#you revived my love of characters who mean so much to me

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[beautyinflight]

I finished rereading @zoe-oneesama’s Scarlet Lady AU!!

This panel from episode 51 part 20 was too cute not to draw! Thank you so much for sharing your Scarlet Lady comic with us, it has soothed the frustrated miraculer in my heart. <3

[nachosncheezies]

In defense of late-canon x files (including the revivals)

I was thinking about this poll after I commented on it, and I kinda want to be brave and say more.

Short answer to the poll's question before I go any further: If you're a new fan and a sensitive sort who thinks you'll struggle with your blorbos Really Going Through It and you really need a happy ending, I suggest you stop at the end of season 8. Do not pass go, do not look at spoilers. Disregard this post entirely, close the internet, and go look at something that makes you happy. (Also fuck every part of society that characterizes sensitivity as inherently weak and bad and some kind of personal failing, you are valid.)

That said, "quality" as a concept is entirely subjective, and the question of whether or not there's a decline in quality for any story is wholly subjective, too. In the case of x files? I'm not convinced there is a decline. I am going to be upfront that I haven't yet watched past season 8, though I am almost completely spoiled on events after that - and the reason I haven't watched yet is not because of how I know events are going to unfold, but simply because I don't want it to end!!! Ohh, the tension between "I CAN'T WAIT!!!" and "Nooo don't be over D:"

When I first came to txf fandom on tumblr and gradually became spoiled about what happens in late canon though, I was often left uncomfortable and tbh kinda queasy about it. As I said in my comment on the poll, the hate for especially the revival and IWTB, or to a lesser extent even seasons 8 & 9, is very well documented. But! There are other takes to be found here on tumblr if you figure out where to look, and my feelings have changed!

The thing is, I have yet to find myself in any fandom where there isn't a vocal subset of fans who dislike the story after a certain point. I am not joking when I say that no one hates the things they love as passionately as sci-fi and fantasy fans. In my experience, it often hinges on the extent to which a viewer has strong notions on where they would like the characters to end up. In particular with series where shipping is a dominant component for the bulk of a fandom, I have almost universally found that there comes some turning point in the story where "let them be happy you cowards" is the dominant view, and things that compromise the attainment of a degree of romantic stability and/or domesticity are, to many fans, annoying at best and despicable at worst. But! As one tagset on the linked poll said:

and I think for any fandom, that last tag especially is so so so important. (I think that's harder for people watching a weekly series live, bc you have so much time to analyze and speculate and dream before the next breadcrumb drops, but I digress.)

So why am I saying this and how do I apply it to x files? Well, I eventually found that there are also a subset of fans who find redeeming things right up to the very end and actually quite like the whole thing! The things that I had seen people rage and ventpost so much about honestly never quite sounded to me as "out of character" or "untrue to the story" etc as those same ventposts made them sound. And I've discovered I'm not the only one who felt that way. Do I love that the spooky squad had to go through all of those things? No, those poor guys D: Life is hard and they have been through so much trauma. But do those events and their choices make sense to me in light of everything that came before? Yes! And I honestly can't wait to see them fight to overcome those things, breaking, healing, always learning, always growing, always getting better.

So if you're wondering "where does it go wrong"... well, I'm a completionist, as many people who've answered that post are, but also my personal opinion is that I don't think it does go wrong. If you're new and interested in exploring why I've gone from "vaguely queasy" to "excited" about the whole thing, or want to maybe balance out the impressions you're getting about the later seasons before deciding whether or not you want to see the whole thing, I'll put a few blog names in the comments.

Final admission: even once I started feeling a little more confident in the possibility that "actually ok maybe I'm not crazy, maybe this all kind of is in character and does make sense", there was one big plot point that I was NOT looking forward to and I thought I would never be comfortable about. In hindsight, I think my discomfort came from the negative responses being SO seemingly universal that I hadn't stopped to let myself truly consider other possible interpretations on that point. (I mean my initial instinct when I first read about it was, why are we mad about this?? CSM is literally the most unreliable narrator in history???? it's obviously fake news?????? this must be either a fever dream someone's having or it's a misdirection ploy against whatever shadowy forces might still be lurking?????????????? but for whatever reason I guess I had halfway written that off.) Happily, just last month there's a new post-s11 novel out, and although reviews for the book as a whole are mixed, it seems to have laid the groundwork for resolving that plot issue in a way I think most fans would be broadly happy with. If you're interested in being spoiled about that and seeing how, I recommend searching #perihelion on @agent-troi who liveblogged reading it with receipts, scroll back chronological-style to the first post on the subject and see how it unfolded. (And never forget that Dana Katherine Scully is the queen of denial as a coping mechanism lol)

Everyone's mileage will vary. Each person can feel however they want! But for anyone new, I wanted you to know that the very many ventposts you might be seeing are not all there is to this show or its fandom. Some of us love it despite - or even because of - all the things that went "wrong". I think we just don't talk about it as much.

[temporarytemporal]

cling to me

I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.

Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.

Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence

Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)

Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.

Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.

L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers

Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.

Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy

You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.

Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young

Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.

Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.

Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.

Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses

Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there

Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.

Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.

Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.

Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand

Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.

Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.

Post Revival:

Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.

Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.

Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.

Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.

Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.

Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.

Post DSMP:

The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.

[shslbunnylover]

Can I request a fic where Natasha romanoff and the reader are married for tax pourposes, and nat fogets she's married until someone starts talking about her wife that they met on a mission?

With mean nat, and some smut?

🥝

★ ★ ★ A much needed reminder ★ ★ ★

Character: Natasha Romanoff

Summary: After Natasha forgets about your marriage that was based on convenience, she realizes just how much she loves you.

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, slight angst and mention of unrequited love, Daddy kink, choking kink, slight spanking, rough sex, mean(ish) Natasha, G!P Natasha (with condom), slight dacryphilia,

Genre: Smut

Author's Note: I've been revived!!

Word Count: 4.02k

Natasha Romanoff. Feared Avenger, skilled assassin, and your wife. Well...not so much the last part. Your relationship was mostly out of convenience, leaving you, who had fallen in love with Natasha a few months into your relationship, heartbroken and bitter against the world. You were literally married to this woman, yet she was nothing more than a stranger most nights.

The two of you had lived in the Avengers Tower for around a year when she brought the concept of a convenience-based marriage. She dragged you into a dark room, and you had honestly believed that you were about to meet death right then and there until she had dropped that bombshell.

"We need to get married," She had stated bluntly, looking down at you as you sat in the chair she had practically forced you into.

"Huh-? Natasha, what the hell??" You replied, looking up at the redhead as the slight slivers of light from the window illuminated her sharp green eyes as they stared down at you.

A few long moments pass, the only noise in the room being that of her and you breathing.

She sighed, just blinking for a minute before sitting down.

"Look, Y/N..." Natasha began, twirling a pen on her fingers, the ball point moving quickly as it spun around in her hand.

Your vision fell to the pen, then back up to the assassin.

"Out of every Avenger here, you're the one I'm most comfortable doing this with. This isn't anything romantic, but it's purely for our benefit," She explained, her hands placed on the table as she leaned in.

"Our benefit? How exactly?" You looked at her curiously, becoming intrigued by the offer against your better judgment.

"Tax benefits, credits to be specific. It would also be a way for you to ward off those annoying ass fans of yours," Natasha's head gestured to your left towards the only window (and light source) in the room that gave a view of the city below.

You sighed, you knew that last statement was true. As an Avenger, when you gained strength you would also have creepy and obsessed fans who would devote their life to you in some parasocial relationship. Being single didn't help that either, and with having The Black Widow holding your hand out in public acting as your wife, you knew the amount of obsessed fans (public ones at least) would decrease.

"You don't have to agree to this, but if you want it, meet me in my compound later," She'd said before leaving the room.

You sat in that room for a long while, debating your options.

But eventually you came to a conclusion.

"Natasha?" You knocked on the redhead's door, sighing as she opened the door. "We have a deal."

You barely managed to see the notoriously rude Avenger crack a small smile.

"Alright, we'll figure out the legal shit in the morning," Her smile dropped once again, before gently shutting the door.

The two of you were married in the courthouse after less than a week following the conversation in the room, leaving you married in the eyes of the general public and more importantly the government and tax office.

Nothing had really changed between you two in terms of your emotional connection. Sure the other Avengers would tease you about being married and would constantly compare the two of you to complete rocks when it came to the love in your marriage, but you didn't mind because you and her were only in this for convenience, it wasn't like you actually liked each other.

That last fact however, changed around a year into your "marriage".

You sat alone in the main lounge room in the tower, most of the others out on some minor missions, almost the entire crew excluding you and Natasha, who had been injured in a previous mission and was forced to stay at the compound. As her "spouse", the rest of the crew sacrificed you to stay with her under yet another one of their "funny" jokes against your arrangement. You didn't really mind being told to stay in the building though, it gave you a free day off.

Turned on in the background was some random reality TV show that consisted more of fake tears and drama then any actual real glimpse of human emotion, but it was still your vice nonetheless.

With your feet propped on the couch and a bowl of leftover Chinese food in your hands, you watched the show on the television with lazy eyes. You didn't have any real responsibilities at the moment, Natasha was way too stubborn to even think about letting you take care of her, no matter how "married" you may have been to the rest of the team.

About an hour passed when you heard the assassin's voice come out of the hallway in a groan.

"Ah shit-" She grimaced, walking down the hallway, her stubborn self still refusing any help, even in the form of leaning on the wall.

"Nat?" You paused the TV, placing your bowl of rice on the table before standing up to see what was going on behind you.

"What-?" She gritted her teeth, her bandaged leg faltering her steps and forcing the redhead to slow her pace.

"You know you were told to relax and call me if you needed anything," You sighed, looking your wife up and down in a disapproving manner.

"Y/N, I don't need your help," Natasha scoffed, ever the unwilling to receive assistance.

You let out yet another exhale, and you pulled her to the couch you were once sitting on.

"Yes you do, I'm taking care of this wound," You grabbed a first aid kit before kneeling in front of her to unwrap the old bandages.

You placed gauze on the wound, gentle against the assassin's skin so as to not aggravate the wound.

With gentle hands the assassin obviously wasn't used to, you finished cleaning up her leg, before gently placing Natasha's leg down.

You looked up when you heard her laugh.

"What?"

"You're just like a little housewife aren't you?" She smirked, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

Your eyes widened, and your heart felt as if it was both stopping and speeding up at the exact same time.

Your face broke out into a small blush, and you remained quiet, just darting your eyes away from the green eyes gleaming down at you with a mixture of mischief and teasing.

Fuck.

Later came one of Tony's infamous parties, you'd gotten all dressed up, wearing a small pink dress that highlighted your body, falling right above your knees.

Since the incident that revealed your feelings, you and Natasha didn't even talk, once again returning to strangers. You acted like the other didn't exist, despite feeling empty without the redhead around you. But you attempted to be away from Natasha as much as possible in an attempt to squish your feelings for the older woman.

You stood against the wall, chatting with an old friend who also happened to be a minor acquaintance of Tony's. Your eyes glanced over, and you found yourself staring at Natasha as she discussed...well...whatever she was discussing was some random thing you didn't seem to recall knowing. You assumed her to be another acquaintance of Tony's, most likely an employee or even a news reporter, though you decided on the former.

A small exhale escaped your lips before you turned back to your old friend.

"So, what's been up with you? It's been so long since I've seen you!" You smiled.

"Life's been so chaotic, Y/N, I tell you! But the chaos has honestly all been worth it. After all, I did gain a husband out of it!" They held up their hand, the medium sized diamond on their ring shining under the florescent light of the room.

You gasped.

"You got married??" You exclaimed excitedly.

They nodded.

"I tell you, I didn't see it coming, but married life has been amazing! The man I've loved for 7 years only seems that more special to me, and I didn't even know that was possible!"

In response, you took a sip of your drink, looking down at the hand that held the glass. You internally sighed at the lack of a ring on your finger, but you went back to a smile so as to not give away any sense of the heartbreak you were experiencing.

You were originally okay with the arrangement you shared with Natasha, because you never had feelings for the assassin and it wouldn't feel like you had everything you wanted but at the same time nothing you wanted.

But that changed.

You didn't understand where the feelings began, but now your life felt like an empty shell. On the outside, you were married to the one you loved. But on the inside, there was no love in your relationship.

It was all for convenience.

You two hadn't even come in the same car to this party, what made you think you were worthy of truly being married to the woman of your dreams.

Little did you know that Natasha had begun to match your feelings as well, but hid them as much as possible...

"So, Romanoff, what are you up to?" The man Natasha was talking to asked.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

"Have you finally settled down and got yourself a partner?" He pushed her shoulder jokingly.

Natasha tilted her head, crossing her arms.

"No," She said genuinely, seemingly forgetting your entire existence.

"Really? Damn," He sighed with a laugh, adjusting his lean against the wall and smirking.

"What about you?" Natasha questioned out of obligation; she always hated these parties, especially when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her and asked about her personal life.

"I haven't gotten a partner yet...but, I met this cutie on a mission and I'm gonna ask them out," He replied, his smirk only increasing.

The redhead raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Really? Who?" She asked.

The man pointed his thumb to the side gesturing to you as you continued to talk with the old friend of yours.

"The one in the pink," He licked his lips.

The redhead looked around, before eventually finding who he was pointing at. When she saw it was you he was pointing at, a rush of anger coursed through every one of Natasha's veins, and she felt one of them sticking out of her forehead.

"They're married." Natasha spat, biting the inside of her cheek.

The man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Really? They don't have a wedding ring, and they never mentioned it," He looked over at you.

Natasha grit her teeth, clenching her fists.

"Yeah. They're married," She glared.

"Woah, okay!" The man laughed nervously. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Natasha adjusted her lean, and she looked off to the side.

"I don't have anything in a twist, just giving you the truth," She tossed her braid over her shoulder.

The man gave her an awkward look, but eventually rolled his eyes.

"Alright Romanoff, whatever you say," He replied.

Hours passed and Natasha stood in the back silently, recollecting her feelings towards you and your marriage in general.

When that man mentioned you, she had felt guilt washing through her veins. She actually forgot about your marriage. Why did that make her upset though? She wasn't supposed to actually fall in love with you... She hadn't had a crush in years before she realized her feelings for you. She felt her heart beating faster than normal when she saw you, and she recently felt the need to actually be yours for the rest of your life.

Why did this have to be so confusing?

The end of the party finally came, and Natasha looked up to see you leaving.

It was now or never.

Natasha pushed herself off the wall, and she quickly followed you before grabbing your hand.

You snapped your head to find the redheaded assassin looking at you with an angry and jealous expression.

"Nat-?" You stuttered, feeling your legs go weak at your wife's dominant nature.

"Do you want to come home with me?" She practically growled. "Just answer yes or no."

You blushed, your eyes darting around the room and eventually locking with Natasha's green irises.

You didn't understand where any of this had come from, one moment you were walking home alone and now you were being held by the wrist by the woman of your dreams.

"Yes-" You blurted without thinking, your libido and heart acting before your brain could even process the situation.

Natasha gripped your hand, storming out towards her car faster than she thought her legs would carry her just to be with a person. She'd only moved this quickly to either carry out a mission or to train, never for a person she wanted to be with. No, the feared Black Widow never chased after anyone. But tonight that had changed.

She practically threw you into the passenger's seat of her car, buckling your seatbelt for you before making a beeline for her own spot in the car.

You sat there in shock as Natasha started the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Natasha...what is this?" You asked, pressing your thighs together as a sense of arousal coursed through your body.

"Малышка...I'm in love with you. I can't stand this marriage not being anything more than tax benefits. I want you. I need you." Her hand found its way to your thigh, her palm and digits can eerily close to where you needed her most.

"Natasha..." You repeated her name like a prayer. "I need you too...I can't handle this. Since I took care of you that day, I needed you. Either to kiss my lips or fuck me senseless, I've needed you for too long,"

Natasha's grip on your thigh tightened, and a small moan escaped your lips as her digits snaked closer and closer to your achy and needy pussy.

"Keep talking like that, Ангел, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to utter anything but my name and your beautiful moans," The redhead kept one hand on the steering wheel, practically glaring at the road ahead.

"Maybe I want that..." Your hand overlaps the one on your thigh, and you move Natasha's hand to cup your heated sex, allowing a moan to escape both your lips and Natasha's.

"What are you comfortable with? I want you to enjoy this as much as I do," She said, her voice husky from her heightened libido.

"I want you to do whatever you want, I love anything minus ass stuff, choke me, spank me, do whatever, I just need you,"

The assassin rolled her head back.

"God damn it Ангел..." She groaned, and even in the darkness, you noticed a small bulge sticking out of her pants, *she was hard*.

You knew she had a cock, you'd heard her mention it during her discussion with you about her life in the red room. But God you didn't know it was that big.

"Nat...you're hard-" You blurted, as if you hadn't just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, принцесса," Natasha maneuvered your hand to place it on her cock, her Russian accent bleeding through her words the more and more worked up she got. "Look what you do to me, моя маленькая шлюшка,"

Her husky and slightly strained voice only made your pussy all the more soaked, and you shuddered at the feeling of her rock hard cock under your palm and her clothes.

"I-I..." You faltered, unable to say anything at all as you kept your hand virtual glued to her cock.

"We're almost home, no one else will be there, so I wanna hear your moans get as loud as possible. I want to hear every noise your beautiful voice makes," Natasha groaned, rutting her hard cock against the palm of your hand.

"Yes Nat..." You whimpered, squirming in your seat while your achy pussy sat in its own arousal.

"Good girl," She breathed, finally pulling into the tower's parking lot before unbuckling you and scooping your body up into her arms as if you weighed no more than a feather to her.

She carried you to her room in the compound, throwing you onto her king sized bed that laid somewhat prominent in her bedroom.

"Natasha," You repeated her name for the umpteenth time that night, your brain seemingly already fried enough so that you couldn't say anything but her name despite her having barely even touched you. "Please...take me,"

The assassin unzipped her pants, allowing for her cock to finally be released from the constraints that left both of you frustrated.

You groaned at the sight of her dick as she pulled down her pants along with her underwear, leaving her with an obviously erect eight and a half inch cock in her hand.

She looked over at you, eventually leaning down and sliding off your dress with skilled fingers. The pink fabric was tossed on the floor alongside her bottom garments, leaving you in just your underwear.

"God you know...I've wanted this for so long, to feel like we were actually married. To feel like you're actually mine..." She smashed her lips into yours, her hand finding its way around your neck and squeezing just enough at the sides to make your pussy clench around nothing.

You moaned at the rough treatment your neck was enduring, and your legs remained shaky as Natasha positioned herself between them.

She left hickeys across the sensitive flesh on your neck, moans escaping you every time she released your skin from the grip of her lips.

"You know, I've had my hand stroking my cock for months, wondering how tight this little pussy would be just for me-" Natasha bit down on your neck, slapping your wet and achy pussy to emphasize your statement.

"Oh God-!" You cried out at the spanking on your sore cunt.

Natasha virtually ripped off your lacy white underwear, and followed along with your bra, releasing your tits from the cage that had been restricting her from the sight of your soft breasts for the whole night.

"Do you want this?" She asked, lifting her mouth up from your soft and supple skin that had been littered with blemishes to look straight in your eyes.

"Yes- I want this..." You shuddered under her touch, a small cry stuck in your throat that developed under the constant teasing.

"Y/N, are you sure?" The green-eyed woman looked at you, a sudden but very brief sense of kindness and care flooding over her otherwise angry and horny gaze.

"Yes- Please! Just don't tease any more-! Please Daddy!" You cried, the sinful noise finally escaping your throat as your head rolled back.

You paused right after the moan left your mouth, your eyes widening and your hand immediately slapping over your mouth.

"Oh God- Natasha I'm so-"

Natasha gripped at your throat.

"Don't. Apologize." She growled, pumping her cock with her hand to get it nice and ready for your little cunt. "But if you keep calling me that I will fuck that cunt until you're crying, or do you not want that?"

You looked up at her as she loomed over your body.

"No- I want that..." You panted, your chest slowly rising and falling as the air around you became hotter.

"Give me your safe word," Natasha demanded.

"Red," You replied, your arousal somehow increasing at the kindness your wife showed even in her most turned on state.

"Good girl," She purred, her lips pressing into yours once again, both literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

Natasha grabbed a condom off of her nightstand, ripping the foil and sliding the rubber around her thick and hardened cock.

"Daddy...God you're so big..." Your eyes fell to her cock.

"I know, принцecca," The assassin smirked, leaning down to blow softly on your pussy, the sudden cold chill sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin raised under the cold breath she let out between your thighs, and you gripped at her braid.

"Please- Daddy- Don't tease," You begged, your voice wavering under her denial.

She smirked, licking a single stripe up your wet slit. Natasha clicked her tongue a few times, and she cooed at you.

"Ohhh...I know Малышка, you just *need* Daddy's cock in you, don't you?" She smirked, looking up at you.

You nodded violently.

"Please Daddy! Please just fill me up! I'll be good, please just fill me up!" You cried, the feeling of her tongue on you making your body ache for more.

"Such a good girl, I love hearing you beg," Natasha kissed your lips softly before sliding her dick between your folds, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

You moaned at the feeling of her rubbing your clit, but your moan only became louder as she pushed herself inside of you, the tip of her dick rubbing right up against your G-spot.

"Fuck-! Daddy-!!" You moaned, gripping at the sheets below as her cock slipped in and out of your cunt.

You gripped at her hair, your fingers finding their way through her tightly braided locks.

Natasha grunted as she rutted in and out of your tight pussy.

“Damn it Малышка, I never thought you'd be this wet for me…you're beautiful…your hair spread out like this, your pretty pussy clenching around my cock…” She panted, slamming her hips into yours, the sounds of sex filling the environment around you.

Sweat drilled down your face, and your hands quickly made their way to the redhead’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling her bra off with the other fabric.

You leaned in, pulling her close as you kissed down her neck, the only thing interrupting your movements being the cries and moans that left your lips.

“Please, please. Oh God!” You groaned against her.

“I know slut, it feels good doesn't it? Doesn't it feel so good? Fucking christ-” Natasha moaned, her orgasm creeping up on her body as her movements got more and more erratic the closer she got to finishing.

“Daddy…I'm gonna come! Please! I'm gonna come! Please let me cum! I've been such a good girl for you! Please!!” You kissed her passionately, your fingers digging into her skin for any sense of support.

Natasha groaned.

“Me too, come with me принцecca,” Natasha gripped your throat, leaving somewhat visible handprints on your flesh. “Боже мой!! Черт возьми, принцесса! Ты мне нужен! Дерьмо! Ебать!!” She slammed her hips into you, her cum coating the inside of the condom as she finished.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy!!” You moaned simultaneously, your orgasm washing over you as you fell back into the bed.

Natasha groaned, barely holding herself up by her arms, just as exhausted as you.

The assassin slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead as you whimpered from the empty feeling in your pussy.

“C'mere beautiful,” She laid down next to you, sliding off her cum filled condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling you into her arms.

“…I love you, Natasha…” You muttered against her neck, burying yourself in her scent as your naked bodies intertwined.

Natasha smiled gently, running her hands through your messy hair, her fingers tangling in your locks.

“I love you too, Y/N,” She murmured into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and using it as a lifeline and a reminder that this truly was real.

“Can we try this marriage for real this time?” You looked up at her, your hand falling to hers and tangling your fingers together.

“Of course we can…I've been waiting to ask you that for so long now…” She laughed softly, kissing you softly on the lips.

You kissed her back, sharing the first of many kisses of your marriage, but this time the marriage was finally real and not just for convenience.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

[noxtivagus]

just thinking abt ffxvi ><

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the mortal emmrich romance path scene

dissecting the graveyard scene

mortal vs lich romance path

emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the romance scene (lich path) emmrich x rook cinematic

welcome back my dears

Emmrich Volkarin - Choosing Mortality/Resurrecting Manfred

gonna start with how MUCH I love rook defending emmrich and therefore instilling confidence in him throughout the game, however it is particualry noticeable in this segment.

more

oh yes

after being knocked on his ass from johanna skeleton construct he is visibly hurt, but this is both physical and emotional pain. I implore you once again to read The Flame Eternal for context behind Emmrich and Johanna.

emmrich's fear of death and cowardice rearing its head in the face of untold danger, until our beloved manfred makes the ultimate sacrifice, and demonstrates great courage.

oh baby, thats the stuff. Rook instilling confidence in her necromancer.

god is real and he is a hot necromancer. look at the confidence surge through him.

moving on

The scene cuts to Emmrich and Rook at the Necropolis asking to revive Manfred. Emmrich seeks out the advice from the Lich Lords of the Necropolis who inform that there are ways to return his spirit, at a cost -

alright here we go. If emmrich chooses manfreds life over accepting his death, he will no longer be able to achieve lichdom as emmrich wouldve have failed to accept death as a natural part of life. in emmrich relinquishing lichdom and choosing to revive manfred instead it delves deep into his character. for emmrich to give up lichdom would mean admitting that some things mean more to him than his fear of death - that choosing to live, that he could choose to be couragous, and face life head on, in spite of inevitable death. emmrich is a known coward, but this - choosing this path, means being resilent, being courageous, overcoming cowardice in the name of love.

it should also be noted that in the lich romance path, during the arguemnt scene, emmrich is not able to accept the inevitable death of rook. THEREFORE -

im telling you. man goes rogue, full blown, scarlet WITCH, rogue.

back to the mortal side -

this is actually tragic. if you know both romance paths for emmrich, you know that regardless of which path emmrich follows, he does not accept death when it comes to himself, his love, or manfred. he just cant. this game portrays regret wonderfully, so wonderfully i cry.

Rook's right, emmrich is much braver than he thinks. he rushes off to help rook FIGHT GODS, facing death every day considering we all know a romanced rook takes him on every mission. emmrich has also mentioned TWICE that rook inspires him, with how they have travelled so much, and how they are indomitable.

dont get me started on how confident he is in act 3. it makes me giggle.

this next line has confused a number of people so let me put my spin on it and break it down -

Death's abyss - referring to the act of dying, and emmrichs fear of death always recedes - the fear of death dissapears with someone to brave it for - inferring to rook, facing death and being brave is easier with rook in his life

these two are made for eachother. mourn watch rook in particular, the love, desire, and connection OOZES that destiny. and my heart, explodes.

This could also be interpreted as wanting to brave death's abyss for manfred, but from a romanced rook perspective, it makes more sense for it be considered as rook. and im unsure what unromanced looks like yet - so im going with that.

this line reiterates my point that the above line is referring to rook. facing alot of things would be easier if manfred was back... like idk, rooks death, maybe.

I cant tell you how much love shoots through my body knowing emmrich wants to face death and brave it for rook. which also makes the argment scene more tragic in a way, but we'll get there dear friends.

In choosing this path, Emmrich demonstrates resilence. and whilst he regrets the lose of lichdom, he knows that he has chosen the life he has always dreamed of. a life of love. a life with his eternal flame, rook. a life with their magic flinging skeleton son, manfred. an undying love that transcends. emmrich has yearned for the love he has in his life now, for a very, very long time. talking 45 odd years here. the man is terrfied, and lichdom was a way to avert his fears, but this, he is truly happy, despite his fears.

@askfordoodles reminded me of a banter dialogue that is available between Emmrich and Davrin. They discuss their sons, Assan and Manfred, and Davrin states, "What have we signed up for?", where Emmrich responds, "Love, I think." and yes, that most defintiely includes rook. emmrich, chose love. whilst it is stated that lichdom is his lifes work and dream. coming from someone who also overworks and grinds out work to get through the weight of the day without a thought of vulnerability. I understand him. When a chance of love opens its doors, its scary, a chance to be hurt. this man took that chance, to have the family he never had growing up. and never believed he would achieve. rook gave him back his heart and made him stronger for it. emmrich chose to pursue the life that his parents would've wanted for him. the thought...the dream.. that confirms his romance.

im not crying, you are. holy shit.

keep in mind this is man who grew up poor and alone. he has low self-esteem and never believed he was worthy, let alone would find the type of soul devouring love he craved. that love that you would go to the end of the earth for.

my heart is full.

He calls himself a coward on a frequent basis. but here? what growth. whilst his fear of death may never leave him, it is significantly easier with rook that loves him as deeply as he does. and manfred, a son to pass his knowledge onto.

it then ends with Emmrich stating that in regards to him giving up lichdom for manfred, he would not exchange the life he has now for anything. his now family -

"The Volkarins"

short-ish post, but the next one will be very long where I'll touch more on Emmrichs personality traits more in the argument scene as this is where his traits really shine through, see you soon ♥

[sully-s]

Batman Quest To Get A Birkin Bag

Ok so I have a very indulgent, SuperBats head fanfic that keeps me company on days that I forget to charge my earphones while walking my dog and to bore my wonderfully accommodating friends over dinner.

Long story short it’s a character study about Clark after his death. Doomsday kills him becuase we do not subscribe to Synder movies in this household.

Mostly its about Bruce grieving and reflecting on his ten+ year marriage with the man of steel with a large helping of the Justice League members bonding and finally getting to know Bruce and in turn Clark. (Kal never really got to say specifics about his life because Bruce wanted to keep his identity secret therefore a lot of Clark's life was private.)

For most of the fic Clark’s dead. But I'm one for angst with a happy ending so he comes back. How he comes back I have all kinds of versions but I just want to share this really silly one that I’m slightly obsessed with.

It’s about two years after Clark died. Currently, Bruce and Hal are off-world for a two-month mission. Shortly after they leave the League are battling some sorcerer who's in possession of a Jinn. During the battle two of the three wishes are used and at the end it's Flash who gets to use the last one.

He wishes for Clark to be revived back to life.

Jinn says he can't do that

Flash thinks of course just like in Aladdin you can't bring the dead back, make someone fall in love or wish for more wishes.

The Jinn is like how dare you think that's not within my power of course I can bring back the dead, I can't bring back Superman because Clark's not dead. he's just in his grave too weak to break out of his grave due to the lack of sunlight.

Flash hears this and immediately rushes over to dig up Kal.

The next month and a half are all about Clark adjusting to the changes over the last three years (Like having a new kid at the manor: Tim) Meeting new members (Green Arrow, Martian Man Hunter), and really bonding with his teammates ect.

While waiting for Bruce's return Clark asks Barry what he'd like.

Barry is confused

Clark clarifies that Barry was able to bring back one of Bruce's loved ones “to life.“ That’s never happened and for a man like Bruce who loves deeply for his family he going to be very grateful and he will not take “I’m just glad I could help” for an answer. So Barry needs to think of something or Batman will.

Barry doesn't know what to ask for but knows that Bruce is rich. He figures this would be a great time to get that designer bag that Iris always wanted but they could never justify ever buying. (Listen I don’t know if Iris is a designer girly but in this fic she really just likes this one bag.)

So Bruce and Hal get back and after the big celebration party, the JL held for Clark and Bruce's reunion. Bruce approaches Barry thanks him and asks if there’s anything he can do.

Thinking Barry is going to ask for a house, pull some strings with his Brucie persona so he can better his life at his job or status. Maybe ask for Bruce to fund or set up a wellness program for people in Central City.

But Barry is just like: Uh well Iris has always liked this bag.

And Bruce is thinking Really Barry You brought the love of my life back to life I’d move mountains (without Clark’s help) for you and you want some designer bag for your wife?

Bruce: Do you have a picture?

And as soon as Barry shows him the bag Bruce knows moving mountains would be so much easier.

The bag Barry wants to get is a Birkin Bag.

Now if you know anything about Birkin bags 1. they’re stupid expensive. 2. If you can afford one that doesn't mean you get to buy one. Hermes the company that makes them has this irate practice that you have to work up a good relationship with the store and the sales associates in said store to even get the privilege to buy a Birkin (usually by buying a ton of other Hermes products you don’t want.) Sometimes you buy half the store but if you’re not a high-profile client or they don't like your image they just brush you off and postpone your chance to ”buy” a Birkin. And if you do all of the above prerequisites You don't even get to pick the bag they "give" you one. Want a pink colorway? Sorry here's lime green you're welcome.

Now Barry has no knowledge of any of this and just thinks a Birkin is just some overpriced bag. The problem is Iris only likes this one colorway ( Size 35cm, Red Alligator Exterior, Gold hardware, Yellow Slik interior ect.)

This is going to be near impossible.

But In Bruce's mind, Flash did the impossible in bringing back Clark (Bruce thinks Clark was wished back to life because that's the story everyone is sticking to. Because the emotional trauma of letting Bruce know that Clark was alive the whole time rotting away in a grave for 2 years is not on anyone’s todo list.) So he will get this bag Even if it kills him. He's the goddamn Batman.

And all this lead up is to what I'm actually obsessed with

I just love the idea that Bruce is running around Brucie-ing it up to try to get in Hermes' good graces but his image of being a drunk playboy is activity stopping him from buying any bag.

He calls up the Daily Planet and starts setting up all these puff PR-boosting articles to up his image. Which starts rumors becuase Burce Wayne doesn’t do interviews so why now?

Gotham elite catches wind that Burcie Wayne wants a Birkin richest man in America can't get one. So they all start getting Birkins. They ware them to his galas, just to troll Burcie. The elite jump on the waitlist inflating the list to stupid long. Hermes starts to wear the exclusivity of Brucie Wayne as a sign of good taste and prestige. Bruce searches the second-hand market and can't find the colorway Iris's wants.

Bruce goes undercover as a worker for a local Hermes store to become his own sales associate just so he can get around the prejudices of Bruce Wayne image and start racking up a sales history. (He just selling and buying to himself lol.)

So Bruce is playing a luxury salesman using his background of old money and Alfred’s butlering to woo potential buyers. Working his first retail job ever. Having to suck up to management so he can plead his case about Bruce Wayne. Using his access to get informed on what bags are currently available, who’s on the waitlist, where they rank, and criteria on how and what moves you up the list ect.

After months and becoming the number one salesman, he makes his case to allow Brucie Wayne to buy a bag.

It’s declined.

So he switches tactics.

He just makes a new cover as a recently won lottery winner looking to burn cash and wants to burn it with Hermes. And starts a new sale history. Using all of his knowledge and intel about what gets you on the waiting list.

He gets stonewalled a few times by former co-workers that he gets around by blackmailing them with gossip and infractions he witnessed or was told In confidence when he was a fellow sales associate.

Finally, his lottery winner persona is put on a waitlist. The only problem is he’s at the very bottom.

So what does he do?

He suties up As Batman and starts intimidating all those who are higher on the list than his lottery winner cover rocketing him up the list.

He hits a roadblock when he tries to scrace a woman on the list who doesn’t believe he’s actually Batman becuase “Why would Batman even want with a Birkin?”

Which leads to an escalation that gets him an earful from Superman who’s called to the scene by said woman whos terrified after Batman strings her upside down over the edge of her high-rise penthouse.

Clark offers to buy the bag becuase who wouldn’t want that kinda of PR endorsement?

Which Bruce vittamently refuses becuase it would cheapen the gift.

Finally, after a week of terrorizing wait-listers, his lottery winner persona is “given“ the opportunity to buy a bag.

But disaster strikes when that lucky break he thought he got because he was next on the list was actually bad luck becuase the person was bumped off becuase they bought the bag that Bruce had painfully calculated to purchase which was the only bag that would be made in the next 3 years that has the colorway that Iris wanted.

So Bruce tracks down and comforts the buyer in the dead of night as Batman. The buyer freaks out and says they didn't even want this colorway and really wanted a Caranery yellow ostrich skin colorway and if he could get her that one she'd trade for it.

This leads Bruce to play matchmaker for a series of buyers that have Birken Bags they don't love and would trade for their dream bag. And after months of fetch questing and matching sad Birken owners around the world with their dream bags Bruce he pulls it off. He finally gets a Canary, yellow ostrich skin colorway Birkin bag trades it for Iris’s dream bag. Only to find out it was ruined in a car crash that was caused by an alien invasion 2 months before that the JL had a particularly nasty time with and it was Bruce’s Batmobile that was thrown into her parked car.

The bag is a mess the zipper borken, missing hardware, leather scratched. But Bruce so done with everything accepts the trade and takes it back to the cave. Where he proceeds to 3D scan the bag then composite a CAD model and starts to collect all the raw components of the bag himself.

Getting only the best materials (much better than what Hermes was using) Talking to Killer Corc on how to find the best alligator pelts. Flying to India to personally pick out the red dye for the color. Mining the gold for the hardware from an asteroid that was threatening the Watchtower.

After he has everything Bruce proceeds to by hand construct an exact replica of Iris's dream bag. Essentially making the most over-budgeted fake to exist. Where he finally gives it to Barry (who has no inkling of the time and effort Bruce has put into this side project that has taken the better part of a whole year) who jokes in saying “Oh wow takes 12 months to run to the store huh?”

[writingonleaves]

i've been yours since you stepped through the door tonight - andrei svechnikov

pairing: andrei svechnikov x original female character

warnings: swearing, drinking alcohol, lotta fluff, inaccuracies regarding anything athletic trainer related (timeline of training, terminology, etc), proofread maybe once, mentions of injuries, author has never been to raleigh, mostly based off the first hald of the 2023-2024 season but i couldn't be bothered to keep track how often svech had been in and out lmfao

title: "almost touch me" by maisy kay, also inspired by "lowkey" by NIKI

word count: 16k

author's note: this idea's been swirling around my head for awhile now, but @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2024 inspired me to really revive it. @callsign-denmark, this is for you, my friend. i hope you enjoy it!

~*~*~

“Chrissy!”

Christina turns around from where she’s restocking ice packs in the training room. She nods at the smiley Russian. “Svech.”

He walks to her and swings an arm around her shoulder in a friendly side-hug. “Good summer?”

“It was alright,” her summer back home in the Delaware suburbs wasn’t anything to write home to. And Andrei Svechnikov is technically a coworker who doesn’t need to know everything. “Good to be back though.” 

“I know what you mean,” he says. Andrei leans back against one of the treatment tables. “You graduated, right? College?”

She blinks. When did she ever mention that to him last season? “I did. Back in May. The week after playoffs ended.”

“Congratulations.”

She smiles genuinely, turning to face him completely. “Thank you. Did you need something?”

“Nope,” he says with a smile that somehow still stuns Christina even after a season of seeing it so much. “I just wanted to say hi and welcome back.”

“Well, welcome back to you too.” As he’s turning away to go to fitness testing, she calls out. “Hey! Come back after you’re done. Should check on the knee before you go home.”

He halts, turning back around with a raised eyebrow. “Is that part of my regimen to get back to playing?”

“Has Doug told you?”

“Told me what?”

Clearly not then. Trust her boss, who’s lovely but also like a purposefully annoying father, to leave it to her to break the news. “They put me in charge of you this season.”

“Me?”

“Well, your recovery. And not completely. Obviously, Doug will still have final say. But if anything’s going on, I’m your person. Especially as you’re getting back into it.”

“Oh?” Andrei smirks and Christina refuses to be affected by it. 

“Is that gonna be a problem?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Of course not. I trust you.”

“Then I better see you before you leave today.”

“Deal.” He shoots her one last smile. “Bye Chrissy.”

“See you later, Svech.” Andrei brushes shoulders with Brady and they exchange excited greetings. She waits until Andrei leaves the room and smiles. “What can I do for you, Brady?”

“Got any tape?”

“Plenty.” She heads to the cabinet. “Take a seat.”

Christina Hawthorne feels very fortunate to even be back in this training room. After a co-op with the Hurricanes last season with their athletic training team, she graduated from UNC Chapel Hill in the spring. They liked her enough to offer her a position on the team for this season while she prepares for her certification test in January. They’re putting an immense amount of trust in her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. 

She loves the guys, so it’s nice to see that they seem to like her enough to keep her around. 

When she has a few free minutes with no players trailing into the training room, she wanders over to the gym. She may have had dreams to be a professional ballerina when she was very young, but actually working with professional athletes everyday is definitely a humbling experience. 

She’s sure to stay out of the way as the players are getting tested, leaning against the wall and sorta zoning out. She takes note of Andrei’s visible frustration at himself for not getting some of the results he wants. She knows that he won’t be ready for the first few games, and he knows too. But she’s sure he’s not happy about it. 

As promised, Andrei does come back to the training room after his fitness tests. She wrinkles her nose as Sebastian ruffles her dyed blonde hair in thanks for helping him stretch out before he leaves. She brushes her fingers through her hair to try and tame it. “Oh good, you’re back.”

“I promised, no?” He takes a seat on the table and puts his leg up. 

“How did today go?”

He huffs. “Fine.”

She presses her thumb against a particular part of his knee and he hisses. She immediately stops and does the same to the other side. No reaction there. She quickly turns to scribble something down in her notes. “I know this is annoying. But you’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“Not frustrated at you,” Andrei says, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Just myself.”

“Don’t be,” Christina says, gesturing for him to lie down. “Have you been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing?”

“How do you know what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Because I look over your notes and your trainers and the medical staff are in constant contact.”

He chuckles. “Right. Yes, I have been.”

“You lying to me?”

“Never.”

She bends his knee against his chest. “Then believe me. You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“Okay,” he replies simply. “I believe you.” 

She twists slightly. “Any pain?”

“No.” 

Christina grins, then twists it the other way. “How about now?”

“No.”

“Music to my ears,” she gestures for him to sit up. “You’re good to go.”

“You sure?”

“Unless there’s something else you want me to look at.”

He shakes his head. “No. I think I’m good.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets up and flashes her a smile. “See you, Chrissy. Thanks. As always.”

She waves him off. “Just doing my job. Have a good night.”

…..

College was hard, but having a full-time job while trying to study for a certification is a whole new game. Trying to fit in study time while doing a job that already has weird hours is also another thing. Christina’s lucky that the athletic training and medical team understands and lets her study when the players are on the ice or she’s not needed. She even has her own little table in the trainers’ office this year, where she’s often found pooling over textbooks and scribbling notes. 

Training camp and pre-season is a chaotic time for a lot of reasons. There’s more players to keep track of and people are dusting off their rust. No one ever wants to get hurt of course, but especially not during pre-season. Which means everyone is also taking extra precautions. With new faces comes new routines and an adjustment period. 

Christina has a few moments of quiet, the last pre-season game occurring later that evening against Nashville. Players aren’t coming into the arena for at least another hour, and she pours over a chapter in her textbook. She has a pink highlighter in her mouth and a blue one in her hand when someone knocks on the wall. 

She looks up to see Andrei, who looks amused. “Sorry. Are you busy?”

She spits out the highlighter gracefully and caps them both. “Not at all. What’s up?”

“Are you sure?” He nods over to her books. “You look busy.”

“What’s up, Svech?” She repeats. 

He takes the hint. “Can you stretch out my hamstring?”

“Is it-”

“No. It’s not bad enough to need Doug. Just a little tight. And you said I should go to you whenever I need something.”

She stands up as they both head into the training room. “I did say that, yes. Which one?” He points at his right hamstring and she starts. 

“What were you doing earlier? With the books?”

“I’m taking a certification exam in January.”

“For what?”

“To become an official athletic trainer.”

“You’re not one already?”

“I am not,” she says. “Don’t worry. That’s why Doug and the rest of the team do all the nitty-gritty stuff.”

“I’m surprised,” Andrei says. “I thought you were, like, official. You seem to know everything.”

She chuckles, feeling a knot and focusing on that area. “That’s kind of you. I definitely don’t though.” She sees his breath hitch and grimaces. “Sorry. Just a few more seconds.”

“It’s your job,” he says in a strained voice. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Well, I still feel bad when my job elicits pain in others,” she says. After two minutes, she nods. “Need more?”

He moves his leg around and shakes his head. “I think I’m good. Thanks.”

“Of course.” She looks at the clock hanging up on the wall and furrows her eyebrows. “You’re in early.”

Andrei shrugs. “I like to come in early.”

“I know,” the right side of her lip quirks up as tilts her head to the side. “This is really early though, even for you.”

“Well, you’re in too,” he says. “So why can’t I be?”

She chuckles. “I’m not saying you can’t, Svech. I’m just saying I didn’t expect to be seeing any hockey player for at least another hour.”

“Was feeling too restless at home,” Andrei says. 

She suddenly gets an idea. “Are you busy right now? Am I keeping you from anything?”

Ha shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Wanna help me study?”

“I don’t know if I can be much help.” Nonetheless, he follows her back into the offices. 

She pulls out a chair for him to sit in and opens her textbook back up. “I study best when I can talk to someone and describe a concept or topic and they tell me it makes sense. I would be a shitty athletic trainer if I can’t tell the athlete what I’m doing.”

“So all I have to do is sit here and listen?”

“And ask questions if I’m not making any sense,” she bites her lip. “Again, if you have other places to be, I get it. This isn’t the most interesting stuff but-”

“No, no.” He assures before smiling widely. She has an urge to poke her finger in his dimple. “I’d love to help.”

Christina smiles in satisfaction as she flips through her pages. Andrei sits back and makes himself comfortable. 

Yeah, she’s glad to be back. 

…..

Every year, the players, coaches and staff head out to a bar in downtown Raleigh before the start of the first regular season game. It’s to stir up excitement and camaraderie before the season starts. Christina couldn’t make it last year because she had class, but as she’s looking at herself in the mirror —a fitted white t-shirt under a green leather jacket she rarely gets to wear that her sister bought her for Christmas and light washed flare jeans — she tells herself to call the damn Uber before she backs out. 

It’s not that she doesn’t like her coworkers. She really likes them, actually. But seeing them outside of work in a social situation where she could make a fool of herself is a bit anxiety-inducing. 

Once she thanks her Uber driver, she steps out into the swanky rooftop bar that has her tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator. Once she steps up, it’s easy to find the Canes crew, various familiar faces crowded around a specific area of the spacious rooftop. Taylor, the head of social content, who Christina’s become good friends with, sees her first and waves her over, and soon Christina is enveloped in exciting chatter. Taylor, the saint they are, pushes a White Russian, Christina’s favorite drink, in her hands. 

Christina can’t feel too bad. The organization is heading the bill tonight and she’s gonna milk that for all it’s worth. 

A bit later, when she’s on her third drink of the night and feeling comfortably tipsy observing the people around her, she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns around in her stool and immediately beams. 

“Andrei!”

Andrei laughs and returns Christina’s enthusiastic hug before he leans his hip against the bar counter. “Hey Chrissy. You having fun?”

“Plenty.” She giggles. “Especially now that you’re here.”

Maybe it’s her tipsy self or the bar lighting, but she swears his cheeks become redder. Pair that with his button up shirt that has the top buttons undone and a pair of dark jeans and Christina needs to chill. “I’ve been trying to get to you all night,” he says. “You’re a popular woman. I saw Coach laughing at your jokes.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, leaning her chin on her palm. “I’m a funny gal, what can I say?”

“A confident one too,” he says, nodding to her empty glass. “What are you drinking?”

“You do know that the tab is on the Canes tonight, right? You don’t need to butter me up with drinks.”

Andrei rolls his eyes playfully and Christina bursts out into giggles. “I’m not trying to..butter you up? What does that even mean?”

“Like, uh, flatter me or whatever to get something. Like you’re doing something only hoping that you’ll get something out of it.”

“I’m definitely not trying to do that. I’m just trying to be nice. So what are you drinking?”

She offers a toothy grin. “A White Russian, please.” She pokes his shoulder. “Kinda like you, I guess.” Andrei snorts before waving down the bartender to order her drink. She squints at the drink in his hand. “Just a beer?”

“Don’t feel like getting too drunk tonight.”

“How responsible of you.”

He smiles, and Christina is suddenly overcome by the urge to kiss him. But she shakes her head and refocuses back on whatever he’s saying. He leans in closer to hear her response and she has to swallow roughly so her voice doesn’t crack. 

Talking with Andrei is always so seamless. The conversation may shift between three different topics in two minutes but it feels natural. Christina never has an urge to overthink when she’s talking with Andrei. He’s funny and sweet and makes her feel like she’s actually being listened to. 

In a world where she’s surrounded by men on a daily basis, it’s stupidly rare to feel as heard as she does whenever she speaks to the star winger of the Carolina Hurricanes. 

After she finishes her drink, she realizes she should probably start thinking about going home. They all technically have work tomorrow, even if it’s a later start, and people are starting to filter out, having come by to say goodbye to the both of them in the last 10 minutes. 

She starts to stand up and immediately sways on her feet. “Woah,” Andrei says, immediately putting a hand on her waist to steady her. “Slowly.”

“I’m fine,” Christina says, slapping his hand but ultimately grabbing onto his wrist as she steadies herself. “I should probably get going.”

Andrei’s eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t drive here, right?”

Christina snorts, “Of course not. I took an Uber.”

“Where do you live?”

“The Six Forks area.”

He pinches their empty glasses and puts them on the bar counter, nodding in thanks to the bartender. “You’re on my way home. I drive you.”

“Where do you live?”

“North Hills.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not that drunk to know that that’s definitely not on your way. You’d be overshooting.”

“I don’t care. It’s late, and I’d feel more comfortable if I just drove you home rather than you taking an Uber.”

“Andrei.” She deadpans. “I’m a grown woman. I can get home myself.”

“I know. But just let me drive you. Please.”

She huffs. “Fine. Thank you.”

He grins, “Anytime. Let’s say goodbye to everyone and then we head out.” Christina stumbles again and his hand is immediately back on her waist. “Slowly,” he repeats. 

“I’m fine,” she repeats. 

After they both say goodbye to everyone who’s still at the bar (Taylor eyes her with a smirk, gaze shifting between Christina’s eyes and Andrei’s hand that’s hovering over her back. Christina just rolls her eyes and discreetly flips them off), Andrei leads her to the parking lot. 

Christina’s nose crinkles at the sight of the lamborghini as Andrei unlocks it. “I forgot you drive this.”

Andrei lets out a loud laugh before opening the passenger door. “Don’t worry. I drive extra safe with you in the car.”

“Thanks,” she mutters, climbing in. She’s heard about his questionable driving. She hopes she doesn’t regret this. 

The engine roars to life and Christina rolls her eyes at the sound. Andrei just shoots her a smile before backing out of the spot. He unlocks his phone and hands it to her. “Put in your address.”

She hums, typing it in before putting his phone in the center console. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, before turning her head so that she’s facing him, leaning on the headrest. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re telling me you don’t like me as your personal Uber?” Andrei asks. She watches as he turns the wheel with one hand and rests his other hand on the center console shift. “You feel okay? I can open a window if you need.”

“I’m okay, Svech. Just don’t accelerate like a mad man.”

He laughs and she can’t help but giggle along. “I won’t. Promise,” he says. “You like to talk when you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk,” she mutters. 

Andrei’s hum blends in with the engine. “Sure.”

“Not drunk,” she repeats. “Especially not in front of you all. That would be unprofessional.”

“Why you afraid of being unprofessional? The staff loves you. The team loves you.”

“I’ve worked hard to get here,” she says, forcing her eyes back open so she doesn’t fall asleep. “But the fact that I got this job in the first place is a blessing. I’m not gonna do anything to fuck it up.”

He nods. She closes her eyes. He gently jostles her awake when they’re parked in front of her apartment. He insists on walking her up to the door, and she leaves him with another ‘thank you,’ a tight hug and a sleepy smile. 

He doesn’t move his feet until after a minute of staring at her front door.

…..

Opening night is always so thrilling. Of any sport. Christina has to tell herself to stop grinning so widely when the team is getting announced, making sweater paws with a Hurricanes crewneck she found on Etsy. She rocks back and forth in the tunnel, trying to stay out of everyone’s way on the side while simultaneously trying to see the ice and crowd. 

Once the game is about to begin and the arena lights come back on, Christina shakes her head at herself to focus. It’s go-time. Like last year, she’s not with Doug on the bench — the day she gets on the bench will be the day her heart rate explodes — but she’s closeby in the tunnel or in the training room, making sure everything’s all good and she’s not needed. 

“Hey.”

She turns to see Andrei, in his gray plaid game day suit coming from the bench where he was during player introductions. She smiles, “Hi. Happy season opener.”

“Happy season opener.” He grins. “The red earrings are back.”

Christina automatically reaches to touch the red rose earrings she has on tonight. She puts on a red pair of earrings every game day, whether its a flower, a cool design or ruby studs.

It’s something she just does for fun. For herself. She’s surprised that Andrei has noticed. 

“You heading up to the press box?”

“Yeah.”

They’re interrupted by Bob, the head equipment manager, greeting them with a grin “Miss you out there, Svech.”

“Soon,” Andrei promises. 

Bob turns to her with a playful raise of his eyebrow. “That true, Chrissy?”

Christina grins. “That depends on him,” she jokes. “No, he should be good to go soon. Let me know if you need any help tonight..”

Bob waves her away. “Of course. Can always count on you. See you both later,” He then heads back to the bench. 

She takes one last look at the bench to see if anyone needs anything. No one does. She turns back to Andrei. “Thanks again for driving me home last week.”

“Of course. Did you wake up okay?”

“I don’t get hungover.”

“Lucky you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you heading on the road trip after this?”

“I’m not, actually. I should be on all the other ones though.”

“Why not this one?”

She chuckles. “Funnily enough, because of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my job. I also think it’s because it’s early in the season so I’m not really needed yet. Hopefully.” She grimaces, “I just jinxed it, didn’t I?”

Andrei laughs, while nodding a greeting at one of the assistant coaches passing by. “Maybe. I feel bad you can’t go on the road, though.”

“There'll be plenty of other chances. You can make it up to me by helping me study again,” she jokes. 

“I will do it,” he says seriously. 

“I was kidding.”

“I will do it,” he repeats and clears his throat. “I should head up.”

She nods. “Enjoy watching from above.”

“Thanks. I mean it. I will help you study while you put me through painful stretches.”

“The stretches shouldn’t be that painful otherwise you’re not ready to go,” she admonishes. She internally wants to cringe at her tone switch, but she can’t help it. 

Luckily, he just grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I know, I know. I’m teasing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Leave. I have work to do.”

He laughs, “See you later, Chrissy.”

…..

Last year, when she still had school, she couldn’t go on road trips either — until it came to the playoffs. So she knows what it’s like to come to the rink when no one’s really around. 

Christina’s planning just to come in for a few hours in the morning to gather her own notes and to organize a few things. Also, she might study for a bit, wanting a different environment than her apartment. Andrei also texted her — she got the number of every single player at the start of the season — saying that he’s planning to come in to work on some things with Steven, one of the other assistant athletic trainers who’s also staying behind this road trip. 

She taps her ID to get in, sipping her iced latte as she strolls down the hallway. She smiles and nods in greeting to a few staff members who she passes. Heading into the office, she sets her stuff down and immediately pulls out some of her notes, along with going through notes that the team has been sending on their road trip. 

She hears Andrei before she sees him, the sound of him and Steven talking echoing through the hallway. They come to the office and she gives them both a wave. 

“Good morning.”

Andrei and Steven both grin. “Morning,” they respond in unison. 

“Did you get Doug’s notes last night?” Steven asks. 

“Yeah. I’m in the middle of putting them in.”

“Amazing. Thank you.” Steven pats Andrei on the shoulder. “You’re all set this morning, Svech. Just remember what I said.”

Andrei nods as Steven leaves the room. “Thanks, Steve.” Steve puts his hand up in acknowledgement. Andrei pulls over a chair and sits down. She saves her work. He looks at the pair of old pointe shoes on her desk that she had just remembered to bring in. “What are those?”

“Old pointe shoes.”

“Well, yeah. I know what they are. Are they yours?”

She goes to play with one of the fraying ribbons. “They are. These are the last pair I wore before I left for college. I brought them in as something to put on my desk.”

“I didn’t know you danced.”

“Well, you don’t know that much about me.”

A pause, before the most beautiful smile spreads across Andrei’s face. “What makes this pair so special?”

Christina smiles bittersweetly. “I was pretty good. Like, went to international competitions good. Could’ve maybe done it for a living good. And I loved it so much. But I fucked up my ankle pretty badly when I was 15 and was never the same after that. I still danced and I made a full recovery, but, you know. At my dance studio, every graduating senior got to perform a solo at the yearly showcase and I did mine on pointe. It was a big moment for me.”

“And you did it in those shoes.”

She nods. “Yup.”

“Was professional dancer the first dream?”

“Yes and no. I think as I got older I realized I had other dreams and wanted to do other things. That didn’t fully sink into me until the injury. But it would’ve been cool, you know, be on a stage for a living.”

“Do you still dance?”

“When I can. UNC didn’t have a ballet company, so I tried to take classes out here in Raleigh. I’m a bit too busy these days, but I’d like to get back in a class at some point.”

Andrei hums, reaching to pick up a shoe. He hesitates, looking at her for permission and she nods at him to go ahead. “I just know you’re a beautiful dancer.”

She tries not to blush. But from the knowing glint in his eye, she knows she fails. He places the pointe shoe carefully back on her desk and she looks at the well-worn satin briefly, wondering what that life could’ve been like for her. 

But then her attention is brought back to Andrei as he asks a question relating to his recovery, and Christina knows she’s right where she wants to be. 

…..

The next day, when she’s not scheduled to go into work, she still somehow sees Andrei. 

Christina has just finished grabbing lunch with a college friend and decides to wander into a nearby cafe, its flowery and vine covered entrance enticing her. With a book in her tote bag and taste buds that always welcome coffee, she orders a latte and perches herself at a table by the window. 

She’s staring out the window lost in her own world when she hears his name being called out by the barista. She whips her head towards the counter. There’s not a lot of people you run into in Raleigh named Andrei. Before she knows it, she makes eye contact with him. She hates that he literally lights up before briskly walking over to her. 

A backwards cap and a gray henley has never looked so good before. It’s almost infuriating. 

He stops abruptly in front of her table, right hand bracing the chair across from her and left hand holding his coffee. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Not at all.” She grins as he sits down. “Even on my off days, I can’t escape.”

Andre laughs, putting his coffee down on the table. “I come here all the time but I never see you here before.”

“I was in the area meeting up for lunch with a friend and the flowers outside convinced me,” she says. “Now that I know this is your spot, I’ll avoid it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that.” He nods to her open book. “Reading?”

“Trying. Been trying to read a bit more because I never had time in college.”

“Did you like college?”

Christina smiles. “I did. Part of it was interrupted by the pandemic, but even then, I had a great time.”

“Are you from Raleigh?”

“No, I’m not. I grew up in Delaware, and my family’s all still there.” 

“Where’s that?”

She chuckles. “A small state around Maryland, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The closest NHL teams would be the Caps and Flyers, probably. But my family are more football fans. Dad loves the Eagles.”

“So no hockey?”

“Not really. I honestly didn’t really get into hockey until working with the Canes.”

“So now what? You’re a Canes fan?”

“Because I work for them, sure. And you guys aren’t so bad off the ice either.”

Andrei laughs and it’s such a delightful sound. She puts her chin on her palm and listens as he continues talking.

She was hoping not to have to talk to a single person for the rest of the day. She ends up at that cafe with Andrei for over an hour.

…..

Christina grimaces at her TV as she watches the game end, the Hurricanes now on a three game losing streak. It’s still early in the season, but no one likes losing. She glances at her phone as it buzzes, knowing it’s a text from Andrei. They’ve been texting sporadically all night about the game that he’s also watching in his own home. He hasn’t outright said it to her, but she imagines it’s frustrating for him because he can’t be out on the ice with his teammates. 

Christina looks at his response with a quiet laugh, shoots back a text and tosses her phone a few feet away from her with a deep breath. 

The thing is, when she lets herself really think about it, her and Andrei’s professional relationship from the start has always been different compared to her relationship with the other players. From the first time she introduced herself and saw his smile, she knew this was gonna be tough. 

The athlete part of him doesn’t faze her — she’s danced with and been taught by world renowned ballerinas and she worked in the training room of various teams at UNC. It was his ingenuity and kindness that reeled her in. The accented voice paired with his ability to make things look so easy when she knows it’s anything but, always with a smile on his face. 

Christina would be lying to herself if she says she hasn’t ever considered her and Andrei as…more. She’d be an idiot not to. Obviously, she knows Andrei is incredibly handsome. She’s known that from the very first time she saw him in the training room last season. And it doesn’t help that he’s also so nice with no pretense. Nice just to be nice. 

But it would never happen. Could never happen. He has the entire city of Raleigh falling at his feet and she works with him. 

One night when she was a bit too wine tipsy in her dorm last year, she pulled out the contract she had signed and found the tiny section that addressed romantic relationships among “any members of the Carolina Hurricanes organization” and found some super vague shit basically saying that it was okay in most instances. Which it is. One of their assistant coaches is married to the head of the PR department. 

But she has an inkling that players are a whole different subclause. 

So while they developed a good rapport last season, Christina purposefully kept her distance a bit, sparing little details about her own life and always turning it back to him. To be fair, she was careful around everyone last season, not wanting to get in the way and just wide-eyed overall. But now she’s (hopefully) gonna be around for a bit and will try to let her personality shine a bit more. Push herself to be more casual and comfortable with the staff and team. 

Like texting Andrei about things that aren’t related to his recovery. 

It started with Andrei texting something funny about one of the pregame photos of Brady that had been tweeted. His comment made Christina snort out her tea as she quickly replied back. It’s not like they’re texting often, but it always puts a smile on her face whenever his name pops up on her phone. 

She knows she needs to be careful. But before anything else, she’s just glad to have another new friend. Someone at work she’s comfortable enough to joke around with. 

That’s enough for her. 

…..

Andrei’s long-waited season debut has the fans, his teammates and the whole staff excited. But no one’s more excited than Andrei himself, who’s bouncing around all day from the moment he walks in for his daily check-in.

As she watches him skate around for warmups, she grins at his infectious happiness. He picks up a water bottle and squirts water on her when he comes back to the bench for a moment and she wants to flip him off so badly. She totally would if there weren’t cameras around and if also wasn’t, you know, unprofessional. He’s lucky she’s wearing a black sweater today. Jordan reaches to pull on the ribbon in her hair and that’s when she makes her way off the bench, causing Doug and the other staff to laugh. 

Once the game starts, she does grimace a bit as she’s watching footage of the game from the training room when she sees Andrei go in for a heavy hit. She hears the cheers from the fans and she gets it, but he’s literally just coming off a season ending injury. Yes, he’s a professional athlete, but she’s (almost) a certified athletic trainer. 

They win 3-0 and everyone’s pumped. She’s busy documenting notes as the athletes start leaving the arena. Andrei, as instructed, comes in and she makes sure everything’s okay with his knee. 

“Hey,” she calls out before he leaves. He turns back around with an expectant smile. She beams. “Good game. Glad to have you back.”

“Thank you,” he says with a grin. “Good to be back.”

…..

When you work in such a team centered environment, there’s always someone around. Always someone to talk to and joke around with. She loves it. The collaboration of the work she does is probably her favorite part. 

But she also loves time by herself. So she vows to herself that on every road trip, after some studying, she’ll take the time to explore wherever she is by herself. Whether it’s simply grabbing a coffee or walking around whatever city they’re in or just sitting outside, she’ll carve out some time for herself, while exploring cities that she’s never been to.

The first mini road trip she goes on is to Philadelphia and New York. In Philadelphia, she heads to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Her younger sister Layla is a graphic design major at Carnegie Mellon so she’s filtered some of her love and knowledge to Christina. With her airpods in, she wanders through the exhibits on her own. 

That’s another thing about post-grad. Learning how to do things alone. 

New York has a lot more options. She only has one full day she isn’t working and another half day. During the full day when she’s actually in the city, she meets up with a friend from high school for a nice walk around Brooklyn before dinner. On the half day, after morning skate in Long Island, she wants to just people watch outside for a few hours on a weirdly warm day for November. 

The elevator doors open and Andrei comes walking out, looking down at his phone. When he looks up, a grin spreads across his face and he locks his phone. “Hi Chrissy.”

She nods. “Svech.” The elevator doors close. That’s fine. She’ll catch the next one. “Where’d you just come back from?”

“Just grabbed some lunch with the guys after practice. Where you off to?”

“Honestly, probably also gonna grab a coffee and then sit outside by the water and just daydream. I brought a book, but we’ll see if I’m in the mood.”

Andrei laughs. “Sounds like a great day.”

It is her alone time, but she asks anyways. “Would you like to join?”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Oh. I don’t want to intrude or-”

“You wouldn’t be. I’m asking you.”

“Oh. Well, um, yeah, then. Sure. Give me a minute to use the bathroom?”

“Take your time.” He shoots her a thankful smile as he briskly walks to his room while she waits by the elevators, shifting on her feet. A few minutes later, he comes back out, this time with a backwards hat on. He shoves his hands in his off-white sweatshirt and she presses the elevator button, purposefully not looking at him.

There’s something about a backwards hat. It’s actually really annoying how attractive it is.

“How’s your first road trip been?”

Christina smiles as they step into the elevator. “Good. Went to an art museum in Philly. Saw a college friend in Brooklyn and just walked around the city. The rest of the time I’ve been with you guys.”

“You like art?”

“A bit. My sister’s studying graphic design, so her love for it has bleeded into my life.”

“That’s sweet. Are you two close?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if we’re as close as you and your brother though.” She teases, and she swears she sees his cheeks tinge pink as they walk out of the elevator and out of the hotel. “She’s much cooler than I am, just started her second year at Carnegie Mellon. I was actually just texting her because she’s trying to figure out flights to Raleigh for Thanksgiving.”

“She’s coming down?”

“Yup,” they start wandering to the nearby park. “Usually, we’d go back home to Delaware. But since we have games the day before and after and they’re at home, they’re all coming down to me. First Thanksgiving in Raleigh. They’ll probably come to a game or two.”

“That’s really nice.”

“How about you? Is your mom or dad coming to visit anytime soon?”

“Not sure yet, with Geno now back in Russia. My mom was mainly here to keep me company when I was injured. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her soon though.”

They see a cafe ahead of them and she suggests they pop in to grab something. He opens the door for her and also pays for her, which is really annoying and she takes note of his coffee order so that she can get him back once they’re home. Once they receive their coffees, they’re back outside and in the park, sitting and people watching while petting the dogs that occasionally come up to them.

“Do you miss dancing? Like, at the level you were before getting injured?”

A sad smile automatically appears on her face. “All the time. But it’s changed. It used to be more painful and frustrating to think about. Now it’s more of looking back at the good memories.”

“My grandma used to dance as well. She took my brother and I to a ballet in Moscow once. I honestly don’t remember much of it. I was too young.”

Christina chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not for everyone.” She lets out a deep breath. “God, I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”

“Can I ask how bad your injury was?”

“A recurring stress fracture that required surgery,” she says. “I don’t know if they could ever actually diagnose it officially because it was so fucked up. Or maybe I just block it out of my brain because it was such a painful time.”

“Even after a full recovery, there was no chance to go on as intensely as before?”

“There might’ve been. But I made the choice that I didn’t want my ankles wearing down on me by 25 and like I said, I had other dreams.”

“That must’ve been a hard decision to make.”

Christina swallows. It’s been awhile since she’s talked about this with anyone. “It was. I was heartbroken, honestly. It just felt like my life was over, you know? Obviously, it wasn’t. But I didn’t know that at 15. But if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have thought about going the athletic training route, and in a way, what I’m doing now connects to my dance background, so I’m happy where I am now.”

His eyes light up with hope. “Do you have a video of you dancing?”

She laughs. “I actually do.” She gets her phone out and searches for a particular video. “This was around a year ago. A little across the floor combo we were doing in a class.” She hands him her phone and looks over his shoulder to watch with him. It’s a short video, only about 20 seconds long, but it combines a bit of everything — waltz, pirouettes, leaps and footwork. 

He replays it again. She has no idea what to make of that. “I was right.”

“Hm?”

“You’re a beautiful dancer.”

“Oh. That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he says. “You have beautiful…lines? Is that the right word?”

“Yeah, actually.” He gives her a triumphant smile and she can’t help but laugh. “Thank you. That's really sweet. I appreciate it.”

He watches the video again. She stares at the side of his face, trying to see what he’s seeing. She can’t quite place it. The only thing she can place is her faster than normal heart rate.

…..

A loss against the Panthers at their barn, a win against Tampa on their ice the next day and then a loss against Philly at home. Andrei still hasn’t recorded his own goal, and Christina knows it’s eating him alive. 

It’s funny, because he’s trying not to let it show, especially in front of media. But Christina knows better, especially when he starts pushing himself on the ice even more. 

She’s not usually on the bench during morning skates. More often than not, she’s in the training room or her office, studying or doing miscellaneous tasks until players file in during or after practice for various needs. But once in awhile, she likes to walk out to the ice. Today, she’s taking her studying out there to see if the crispness of the air and the sounds of hockey keep her focused. 

She’s reading over a passage in her textbook when she sees a shadow fall over the page. She looks up to see Andrei drinking some water. 

“If you spray water on this book, you’re paying for another one,” she warns. 

“Of course,” he says with an easy smile. 

“I hope you’ve been stretching out your knee,” she says. “With how hard you’re going at during practice.”

“How do you know how hard I’m going in practice?”

“It’s part of my job,” she responds dryly, backing away and glaring at Seth as he reaches out to mess up her hair. 

“Coming out here to study now?” Andrei asks.

She shrugs. “Trying something new.”

“Is it working?”

“It was,” she says pointedly. 

Brady skates to a stop in front of them and laughs. “That’s her telling us to stop annoying her.”

“You could never annoy me, Skjeisy.” Christina grins. 

Andrei pouts. “What does Skjeisy have that I don’t?”

“The most beautiful smile,” she grins charmingly. Andrei playfully narrows his eyes and Brady shoots her a wink. No one’s flirting. Christina’s met Gracia a few times and those two childhood friends are very in love with each other. But it’s worth it to see Andrei squeeze water out of his water bottle in Brady’s face. 

“When’s your exam again?” Brady asks.

“January 7.”

“That’s soon.”

She sighs, staring down at her book. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’re gonna be great,” Andrei assures her. 

“Sure, if you all actually practice and leave me to study.” As if on cue, a whistle is blown and Christina waves her hand at them. “Shoo. If Rod blames me for distracting you, I’ll be out of a job.”

She takes some notes for a few more minutes before giving up and closing her books. She puts her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on the palms of her hands as she watches them focus on winning board battles and protecting the puck. Practice is more intense than usual today as Christina loses herself in the focused energy in the air, eyes tracking the puck and the players and how they’re positioning themselves around the puck. She almost laughs at herself at how hockey she sounds. Her football loving uncle would be proud and a bit confused. 

Practice is over, and Christina decides to stay on the bench until everyone clears the tunnel, knowing that if any players need treatment, Doug has it. He would text her a random emoji if he needed her anyways. Last game, he took a liking to the red-headed fairy. 

She squints at Andrei, who’s the only player on the ice now, as he takes shot after shot from the blue line. She just observes him and the determined look on his face, the smoothness in his shot. 

As if he can feel eyes on him, he turns around and laughs, before gathering the pucks and skating over to her. “Stalking me?”

“Observing,” she corrects. “How do you feel? Physically?”

“Good.”

“Good,” she says. “You look good.”

“Oh?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She trails behind him as they head to the trainers room. “Don’t forget. Doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“I swear you’re my personal calendar.”

“That’s actually my second job” she says flatly, a smile peeking out after he grins at her. “Go get your protein shake or whatever disgusting thing you like to drink.”

“Sassy today.”

“I want to go home,” she deadpans. “I’ve been up since 5 a.m.”

To his credit, he looks concerned. “Why so early?”

“Studying.”

“Oh,” he says softly. “Well, make sure you sleep. Sleep is important.”

She has to chuckle. “Thanks Svechy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flicks his hand. “Go home.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to tell me that. You’re not my boss.”

“But I am,” they both turn to see Doug peeking out of a doorway. “Get out of here, Chris.”

She narrows her eyes playfully. “You schemers.” 

“Go sleep,” Andrei says, pulling at her ponytail lightly. She whacks his hand away. 

The last thing she sees as she walks into her office is his smirk. 

….

The day before Thanksgiving, she’s preoccupied with her parents and sister flying in for the first half of the day. She picks them up from the airport and takes them all to one of her favorite lunch spots before she has to head to work and they go sightseeing on their own. She offered to get them tickets for the game against Edmonton, but they waved her off. They’ll enjoy their time at a game on Sunday. 

Thanksgiving morning is peaceful, with the Macy’s Parade on the TV as everyone is just relaxing. In the afternoon, as Christina and her mom are taking charge of dinner, someone’s knocking on her apartment door. Immediately, Christina is confused. She’s almost positive her dad and Aimee grabbed her keys before heading out for a quick walk. She calls out a “coming” as the person knocks again. 

“Andrei?” 

He shifts from side to side, flashing a quick but genuine smile. He looks extra cozy in a brown sweatshirt and a backwards hat. “Hi Chrissy. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Not at all. Happy Thanksgiving. What are you-what’s up?” 

He holds out a cake container. “Uh, I’m heading to Staalsy’s for Thanksgiving at their place, and I made ptichye moloko, which is a cake my mom makes for me back home in Russia. I made two. I was wondering if you wanted the other?” 

Her mouth drops open. “Oh, Andrei. That’s…you didn’t need to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” he replies. “And honestly, I hope it’s good. It’s my first time making it and I had to call my mom for help. I made too much batter so, two cakes.” 

She laughs, propping her hip against the doorframe, easy smile on her face. “I bet it’s delicious. Thank you. You’re so-you really didn’t have to do this.” 

Andrei shakes his head. “I wanted to-“

“Honey?” Marianne’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?” She doesn’t bother waiting for an answer before appearing. 

Christina internally sighs. “Andrei, this is my mom Marianne. Mom, this is Andrei. He’s one of the guys on the team.” 

Andrei balances the cake on one hand while reaching out to shake Marianne’s hand with the other, easygoing smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hawthorne. I apologize for showing up without warning.” 

“Oh, no apology necessary!” Marianne smiles, and Christina can tell immediately that her mother is charmed. She wants to roll her eyes. “Are you staying for dinner? You’re more than welcome.” 

Andrei shakes his head. “No, though thank you for the offer. I’m on the way to our captain’s house. I just wanted to stop by and drop this off.” 

Marianne takes the cake from his hands with a delighted smile. “That’s so sweet of you.” 

“He made it himself,” Christina chimes in, smirking in his direction. “Hopefully it doesn’t poison us.” 

Andrei laughs. “Hopefully.” 

The door opens again, and her dad and sister are back from their walk around the block. Christina swallows. Guess he’s meeting the whole family today. 

“Andrei, this is my dad Mark and my sister Aimee. Father and Aimee, this is-“ 

“Andrei Svechnikov,” her dad finishes for her. He and Andrei shake hands and a weird feeling appears in her stomach. “I watch the Canes games from time to time.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He then turns to Aimee and shakes her hand with a small smile. “You too, Aimee. Your sister talks about you all the time.” 

Aimee shoots her sister a look. Christina telepathically tells her to shut up. “Does she really?”

“She does. All good things.”

“It’s good to see you back on the ice again,” Mark says. “How’s the knee?” 

“Knee is good,” Andrei says, before casting a smile in her direction. “All thanks to Chrissy here.” 

“He’s lying,” she deadpans. “I just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Aimee asks with a hopeful look.

Christina shakes her head. “I wouldn’t subject him to that. He’s going to Captain Staalsy’s.” 

“Lame,” Aimee says. Christina elbows her. 

“Chrissy mentioned you all were coming to a game?” Andrei asks. 

“Yup. We’ll be going Sunday.” 

“Have you ever been to a Canes game?” Mark shakes his head. Andrei grins. Christina wants to poke his dimple. “Well, hopefully we put on a good show.” 

She snorts. “Alright, Andrei. Better leave before Dad starts grilling you on the powerplay.” Expectedly, Andrei’s eyes light up. He turns to her as she rolls her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for dinner?” Marianne asks. 

Andrei grins. “I’m sure. Thank you though.” He looks back at Christina. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Bright and early.”

He turns back to her family with a warm smile. “It was nice to meet you all.” 

Christina nods to the door, “I’ll walk you out.” She catches Aimee’s smirk and rolls her eyes. She puts a shoe in the door so that it won’t shut on her as she faces Andrei. “Thank you for the cake. Seriously.”

“Careful,” he teases, and if butterflies flutter in her stomach from his tone that’s no one else’s business. “It could be awful.”

“It won’t be.” She grins and gives him a quick hug before she can overthink it. She pulls away before she wants to. “Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

She watches him disappear from the hallway before she lets out a deep breath.

…..

The crowd at the PNC arena goes nuts with Andrei scores with less than two minutes left in the third against Columbus. Christina herself bounces around on her toes in excitement, her parents and sister somewhere up in the box seats. What a way to get your first of the season. She feels weirdly proud of him. 

She only catches him as she’s heading out a bit earlier than normal to drive back with her family. And by catch him, she only means by eye contact as Andrei’s swept up in media. She stops for a moment and just leans against the doorway of the locker room, watching him answer questions

Christina’s about to push herself off the doorway when Andrei’s eyes meet hers. He’s still talking, but his smile widens, and she just shoots him a thumbs up and a grin of her own before walking to the parking garage. 

…..

Christina groans as she skims the email from the management of her apartment complex. Fixing the water pipes will shut down water for 24 hours. It’s not the end of the world, but how inconvenient. 

She leans back in her chair, mentally going through her mind to see where she could crash for a whole day last minute. The one friend she would go to immediately is away on vacation right now. 

She’s twiddling her fingers as she walks to the locker room, needing to check in with Andrei. But weirdly, he’s nowhere to be found. She’s about to walk out of the room just as Andrei walks in. 

“Oh, perfect,” Christina says. “I was looking for you.”

“Were you?”

She tries not to roll her eyes as he follows her back to her office. “Get your ass on the table.”

He laughs, following her instructions as she works on his shoulder. She must sigh without realizing because his eyebrows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she waves him off. “The pipes are getting fixed in my apartment building for a day so I gotta figure out where I’m crashing for the night. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “That must be annoying.”

She shrugs. “It is what it is, but the friend I usually would stay with is away right now, so that kinda has me scrambling. I probably will have to get a hotel room for the night or something.”

“How about you stay with me?”

Christina has her back towards him to take some notes, before she spins back around and raises an eyebrow. “Andrei, no. I can’t-”

“I have a guest room. Multiple guest rooms, actually,” he runs a hand through his hair. “It’s no problem. Serious. It would be like I’m not even there.” She opens her mouth to protest but closes it again, weighing her options. Like he senses her hesitation, he barrels on. “You don’t have to drop money on a hotel. And only for a night, right? Just stay with me.”

She bites her lip in thought. It would save her a lot of trouble. And he’s right, it’s just for a night. “Are you sure?” She says. 

“100 percent,” he promises. 

“Okay,” she says gratefully. “Thank you. I owe you big.”

“No worries,” he says. “I text you my address. Come over whenever you’re ready. I text you the garage code too in case I’m not home.”

She’s a bit surprised that he just blindly trusts her so much, but he trusts her to handle his body and recovery, which is arguably the most important thing for a professional athlete, so staying in his home is next to nothing. 

But it’s a big deal to her. She’s reminded of that when she drives home to grab some things. She’s reminded that her phone buzzes with a text from him, the garage code like he promised, along with what her sushi preferences are — anything, it’s her favorite food. She’s reminded of that as she drives over, immediately feeling overwhelmed at how nice this neighborhood is. 

She forgets often that these players are earning more than she ever will. Andrei is a multimillionaire. The cost of his living room alone is probably worth more than a year of Christina’s current monthly rent. 

It doesn’t phase her necessarily. It’s just an observation. 

As she pulls into his driveway, she sees Andrei coming out of his garage. He perks up with a wave, waiting for her to park her car. He approaches her as she comes out of her car with her backpack.

“Just in time. I grabbed dinner.”

She glances at the bag in his hands and she tries not to gulp at the familiar (expensive) restaurant logo “I could’ve grabbed it on the way here.”

He waves her off as they walk through the garage, him swinging her backpack over his shoulder. “You’re a guest in my home. Why would I make you do that?”

Christina’s not used to this. The chivalry. The acts of service. It all feels a bit too much, especially as he gives her a brief house tour and shows her the guest room. It’s all so minimalistic and clean and expensive and she was not prepared to be staying the night in Andrei’s house today. Or ever.

She jumps in the shower really quickly to wash off the day. It takes her a moment to figure out how to control the temperature. She’s afraid to mess anything up. When she walks back out into the main room, Andrei’s just finished setting up the table. When she spots the familiar label of her favorite wine, she blinks. 

He notices her silence and chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I asked Taylor what your favorite wine is.”

“You could’ve asked me,” she says softly. 

He shrugs. “I wanted to surprise you, I guess.”

She hoists herself up on the stool of the island, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. “Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Being with Andrei in his home is expectedly intimate. She feels very comfortable at work to poke fun at the players and staff. But it’s different sitting for meals in the kitchen at the office compared to sitting across a kitchen island eating sushi that Christina only has when her parents foot the bill. Something as simple as Andrei’s sushi plopping into his soy sauce and her bark of laughter feels almost too much, especially when he chuckles with her at his misery. Because it’s just the two of them in his home and it’s almost too much. 

But even if it’s too much, she doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, it’s probably weird how comfortable she does feel, as her and Andrei chat about everything from the team to his brother to her college days. When his dimple pops out and his brown eyes brighten with curiosity, she has to remind herself that she works with him. They’re co-workers at best. Friends possibly. 

She gets up to clear their dishes away, but Andrei’s quicker and pushes her shoulder down so she’s sitting again. She gives him a look. “Andrei. Come on. You bought dinner and you’re letting me stay for the night. I can wash dishes.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to do anything but sit there all pretty.”

She just blinks and sips her wine because what the fuck. 

They debate putting on a movie or show, but end up just hanging out on the couch and continuing to talk because he’s just so easy to talk to. Christina stops herself after her third glass of wine when she remembers she has work tomorrow, and she thinks he’s so sweet for grabbing her a glass of cold water without her even asking. 

When they’re winding down for the night, he hovers by the door of the guest room, making sure she doesn’t need anything. When she assures him that she’s all good, he leaves her with a “goodnight” and the cutest smile and Christina knows that she’s fucked. 

The next morning, she wakes up to the smell of coffee. When she walks out, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she sees two plates of waffles. 

“Good morning,” she says with an air of surprise. “This looks great.”

He chuckles. “Eat it first before you say anything.”

She hums, making sweater paws with her UNC sweatshirt and smiling when he slides over a mug of coffee. 

“You sleep well?”

“I did, thank you. You have a very comfy mattress.”

His dimple pops out and Christina can feel herself falling. “You’re welcome anytime.”

That statement doesn’t help either. 

After they finish their breakfasts, she yet again isn’t allowed to help with dishes, so she wraps her hands around her coffee and watches him. “Thank you, though, Andrei. Seriously. For letting me stay over. You saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Of course,” he says over his shoulder, catching sight of her packed backpack in the living room. “Are you heading out so soon?”

“Yeah. I have to get into work earlier than you do, remember?” She teases, as she finishes her coffee, hands him the mug and goes to grab her backpack. “I also wanna stop by my place to drop this stuff off and pick some stuff up before heading to the rink.”

He turns off the faucet, wipes his hands and walks over to her. “I was gonna say I’ll miss you, but I see you in probably an hour.”

She laughs, not quite processing what he just insinuated. “Probably.”

“Can I ask you something before you leave?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

Her jaw drops open a bit. Oh. “Oh.”

He backtracks. “You can say no. I won’t be hurt. Or, well. I just want to ask to see if you give me that chance. I really like you, Chrissy.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…Andrei. We work together.”

“I know, I know.”

She lets out a sigh, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. “Andrei-”

“One date,” he practically begs. “Let me take you on one date to prove that this is real to me.”

She swallows, her resolve starting to crumble down from his pleading eyes. “I could lose my job.”

“You won’t. And I wouldn’t let that happen.”

She can’t help but snort. “Carolina loves you, but not that much.”

He pouts before taking her hands. “Christina,” he says sincerely. “Just one chance. And then if it doesn’t go well, we stay coworkers and friends and this never happened.”

“And if it does go well?” She bites her lip.

The dimple appears on his cheek again. She wants to kiss it.  “Then we figure out where to go from there.”

“There’s just, it’s not- you’re wonderful and kind and sweet, but I’m putting a lot on the line here.” She feels vulnerable, her voice shaking at the edges. “I’ve worked too hard to have this fall apart on me.”

“I know. I understand.” And huh, Christina thinks. He actually probably does understand more than most, because if Andrei is anything, he's a hard worker. He gently places a hand on her waist and she can’t fucking think. “I wouldn’t ask you just to ask you or risk anything.”

“You like me that much, huh?” Christina jokes weakly.  

Andrei squeezes her waist lightly “I do.”

Oh. Okay. 

A few more seconds pass with Andrei staring at her hopefully and Christina blinking rapidly. He’s so gentle with her it makes her wanna scream into a pillow. 

“One date,” she relents. His eyes sparkle and her smile grows with his. “You have one shot, Svech. Use it wisely.”

“Oh believe me, I will.” He says confidently. “When are you free?” 

“My work schedule is the exact same as yours.” 

He lets go of her hands to dig into his pocket for his phone, checking the Canes schedule that’s synched up to his calendar. “When we’re in New York. Two weeks from now.” 

“New Year’s Eve?”

“Yeah. I know we’re already all going out at night but during the day. Just you and me.”

Immediately, her mind goes into planning mode. “Sure, yeah. That works. I have some friends who live in the city I could ask for recommendations for-”

“No,” she tilts her head in confusion at his firm tone. “You don’t worry about anything. I take care of all of it.”

“Andrei.”

“I take care of it, Chrissy.” he repeats, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “All you need to do is show up.”

She opens her mouth and closes it, before, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Will you at least tell me what to wear?”

“Anything. You always look beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s already loading on the charm and they’re not even on the date yet. “Nice try. I’m not wearing my work attire to our date.”

“Seems like you already know what you’re wearing, then.”

She huffs before softening. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

Andrei clicks his tongue. “Of course. I see you later?”

Christina chuckles. “Yup.” 

They walk to his front door, and he hesitates for a second before leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She’s absolutely floored. “Get home safe.”

She gives him one last smile as goodbye. It isn’t until she’s in her car when she leans her forehead on her steering wheel and smiles into it does it fully sink in. 

She has a date in two weeks.

…..

No one likes a loss, and even if Christina is kinda immune to it by now, it’s not fun. But the holidays are near and her heart feels light as she packs up her things. Her flight takes off early in the morning, so she’s hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before then. A knock on the doorframe has her looking up to see Andrei dressed back in his game day suit with a light smile on his face. 

“Hey,” she greets. “Everything alright? You need treatment?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m okay.” He says, shuffling in and looking a bit sheepish.

Christina hesitates. She’s not sure how Andrei is after a loss, if he likes to talk about it or forget about it. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” 

“Okay.” She looks down at his outstretched hand holding a box she didn’t see at first. “What’s that?”

He clears his throat. “It’s, uh, your Christmas present. You fly back home in the morning, yes?”

“Yeah,” she shakes her head. “Andrei, I-I don’t need…I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay.” The annoying thing is that she knows he means that. She tentatively takes the box out of his hand and opens it. Inside is a pair of silver dewdrop earrings. 

“Andrei.”

“Uh, I asked Taylor and they told me you wore silver and gave their approval. But if you don’t like them, I can return them and exchange them for-”

“Andrei,” he halts as she looks at him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to.”

She chuckles shakily, closing the box. “We haven’t even been on our date yet.”

“So?” he shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal. “You’re important to me. I get everyone important to me Christmas presents.”

Christina wants to melt at the soft look in Andrei’s eyes. She’s a bit at a loss for words, so she just gives him a tight hug. She lets herself fall into him as his arms wrap around her securely, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting her eyes fall shut at how safe she feels. 

She reluctantly pulls away and puts some space between them. They are still at work after all. “Thank you. Seriously. You’re so sweet.”

“I’m glad you like them,” he says with a light in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

He shakes his head. “No need.” She gives him a look as he chuckles. “I promise. A date with you is enough presents to last me a lifetime.” Jesus Christ. Where does he pull this shit out of? He just grins. “You heading out? I walk you to your car.”

She swallows and nods, packing up the last of her things, carefully placing the box on top. She makes sure she’s not looking at him when she says her next statement. “You’re way too nice to me.” Silence for a bit besides her rustling her things. Once she’s ready to go, she looks back at him, who’s staring at her thoughtfully. It throws her off guard. “What?”

“I’m not too nice to you,” Andrei says, eyebrows furrowed adorably and sincerely. “I’m just..how I am.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Christina quickly assures him as she flicks off the lights. “I just, uh, am not used to it? None of my exes have ever even treated me this nicely.”

“That’s a shame,” he says. “You deserve someone being kind to you. No such thing as too nice.”

She just swallows as they head down the hallway and to the parking lot. Because what can she say to that? Andrei has always been sweet and polite since the day they met, but she didn’t expect him to be so sincerely earnest. 

She slides into the passenger seat of her car and he leans down, resting his hand against the hood. “You’ll be good to go home?”

“Yeah.”

“Merry Christmas, Christina,” he says with a grin.

“Merry Christmas, Andrei.”

…..

Andrei gets a hat trick against Montreal and looks right at her as his teammates converge upon him. She has no idea how he even finds her so quickly considering she’s not standing where she usually would be, but he finds her anyway. 

She grins at him and he gives an imperceptible nod paired with his signature charming smile.

Three more days.

…..

Half an hour before Andrei’s supposed to be at her hotel room door, Christina is already ready. 

She hadn’t managed to squeeze many details out of him, because he insisted that he would take care of it. It’s not like she doubts him, perse. But she’d at least like to know how to dress so she doesn’t feel out of place. She told him that, and he caved, saying “not a sweatshirt, but a nice sweater or dress will be fine, but not overly fancy,” which, actually, doesn’t say much. But she could work with that. 

And she did. When packing for this mini-road trip, she put thought into what she would wear today. She’s settled for a black-neck long sleeve with her favorite dark green pants, paired with black ankle-high boots and her favorite brown peacoat. 

As she sits on her bed and waits, she starts becoming more fidgety. She’s nervous, yes, but not because she doesn’t know him. She has a feeling that he’s going to be the perfect gentleman and the date will go well. 

She’s nervous that it’ll go too well and she’ll get ahead of herself. 

Before she knows it, she hears a knock on her door. With a deep breath, she grabs her bag and walks over to open the door. 

She swings it open and swallows. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Andrei says softly. She takes a moment to look at his outfit — a navy blue button up with a gray jacket draped over his arm. With black dress pants and sneakers, she’s thankful that it seems like their outfits match on the formal scale. He clears his throat. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says softly. “You look great too.”

“Shall we?”

Christina reaches into her purse to make sure she has her room key, phone and wallet before nodding. “Where are we headed?” She asks as they walk down the hall. 

“We’ll have to head on the train a few stops to Lincoln Center.” Lincoln Center? She furrows her eyebrows. He clears his throat as they step into the elevator, him leaning against the wall. “Today’s the last day they show The Nutcracker. With your dancing history, I figure, I don’t know, maybe it would be fun?”

Suddenly, a frog appears in her throat. It’s probably the most thoughtful first date she could go on. She looks into his earnest eyes, as if he thinks she’ll hate it or not wanna go. 

“It’s perfect,” she manages to get out. He’s perfect. “I-I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”

“I know,” he responds. “You told me, remember?”

Oh. She did. And he remembered. She bites her lip to keep herself from blurting out that this might be the best date she’s ever been on and they just stepped out of the elevator. 

She can tell he’s a bit nervous, quieter than usual. They’re not quite holding hands, but their fingers keep brushing and she feels the ghost of his hand on her lower back as they head down to the subway and onto the train. 

“When’s the last time you were in New York City?” He asks. 

The train lurches and Christina takes a second to find her footing. “It’s been at least two years. I used to come up here for, funny enough, dance intensives and camps when I was in middle and high school.”

“Are you planning on getting back to classes now that it’s been a few months?”

Again, she’s impressed with the things Andrei actually remembers. She shrugs. “I definitely think I’m still too busy during the season. But maybe in the off-season.”

More people pile onto the train, causing the two to move closer towards each other. She can smell his cologne. She looks up in shock at the feeling of a feather-like kiss on her forehead. 

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Saying yes. This will be the best date of your life, I promise.”

She just leans her head onto his elbow as the train runs on its tracks. 

As they walk into Lincoln Center, all Christina can do is gape as they find their seats, Andrei leading the way — in the first row of the second wing. It’s a perfect view of the stage with all the formations, lighting and sound. Andrei plays with her hand the whole time and it feels so good to see a dance performance again. During intermission, she gushes over the choreography and costumes as Andrei just smiles, listening intently to her observations. When she suddenly stops and apologizes for rambling, he tells her to keep going. (“I love how much you love dance.”)

Afterwards, they head to a nearby dessert place and share a bowl of shaved ice and ice cream. She’s having such a good time talking with him that it isn’t until the sky becomes dark does she realize they both have to head back to the hotel before anyone questions them and they can get ready for the team and staff New Year’s Eve party tonight.

She swipes her keycard, closing the door as he steps into her room. “Thank you for this. I had a really good time.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, biting her lip with a small smile. “I did.”

“A good time enough that you want to do it again?”

“I think so.”

“Yeah?” His eyes are practically sparkling and Christina’s elated that it’s because of her. “I didn't blow my shot?”

She chuckles, “You did.” She doesn't want to tell him that if she’s being honest with herself, he had her from the very start. 

“Great,” he grins. “Great. I’m glad you had a really good time. I was really nervous.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh,” she says, walking closer to him and instinctively wrapping her hands loosely around his neck. “You didn’t have to be.”

“You-you always make me a bit nervous, even if I don’t show it,” he admits. 

Christina’s stomach tingles. “Can we go on another date when we’re back in Raleigh? Maybe after I take my exam?”

“Yes,” he rushes out. “Of course. Yes.”

She catches his eyes flickering to her lips for a split second and decides to just bite the bullet. She presses a delicate kiss on his lips, and backs away to see a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I’m gonna go get ready for tonight.”

He chases her lips, causing her to giggle. “Bye,” he mumbles against her lips. “I see you in a bit.”

As soon as her door shuts, she lets out a little squeal into her hands. Happy New Year’s Eve to her, indeed.

…..

Christina’s certification exam happens to fall on a rare week where the Canes have no games, which she’s grateful for because she doesn’t want to miss out on any. There are some practices, but she’s excused from those to study. 

The day after her exam, she feels a large weight lift off her shoulders. She won’t get the results for a few weeks, but she feels confident that she did well and she can pat herself on the back for a bit. 

She comes into practice in high spirits, having gotten a coffee and pastry from her favorite cafe on the way as a treat. She takes congratulatory messages from all the staff and some players with a smile. When Andrei skates up at the start of practice to her on the bench, he just smiles at her, shooting her a quick wink before skating off. She hopes she’s not blushing. 

He’s left her alone in the meanwhile while she’s been studying, but she’s hoping to catch him before he leaves the rink today to see when they can go out again.

Unfortunately, the team is in the video room as Christina heads to her office to pack up for the day. She guesses she’ll have to talk to Andrei tomorrow. She could just text or call him, but that doesn’t feel good enough. 

When arriving at her car, she stops short and squints. There’s a bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper tucked inbetween the door handle, red roses and sunflowers to be exact. 

“Oh good, you haven’t left yet,” she whips around to see Andrei jogging towards her. 

She turns back around to her car, staring at the flowers as he stops beside her. “What’s this?”

“A little gift. To congratulate you on finishing your exam.”

She swallows, suddenly emotional. “They’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful flowers for a-”

She whacks him lightly. “Don’t finish that sentence, you sap.”

He laughs. It’s becoming one of her favorite sounds. “But I mean it.”

“I know,” she finally turns to look at her and grins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you around this week to grab dinner or something?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “You know my schedule more than anyone.” She rolls her eyes as he chuckles. “Of course I am. We’ll find time.”

She hums. “Okay.”

“What should I tell the guys for now?” A sudden flurry of anxiety flashes through her veins. Andrei must see her face change, because he continues quickly. “I don’t have to say anything. We can keep it quiet.”

“Would you mind if we did? Just because it’s so…”

“I don’t mind,” his dimple pops out. “Promise. Let’s just go on another date first. Sound good?”

She bites her lip with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he repeats. His hands itch to reach towards her before he remembers that they’re just outside of the rink and that anybody could walk out at any minute. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers, seriously.”

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he says, backing away. “You’re so smart and you worked really hard.”

She looks down at her shoes, warmth spreading through her body. “Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

(When Christina goes home and arranges the flowers in a vase, she sends Andrei a picture. He responds immediately with the heart-eyed emoji, and she feels the excitement of something new starting.)

…..

Christina’s a smart girl. When she gets a text from Doug a few weeks (and more than a handful of dates with Andrei) later to come to one of the conference rooms, she has a feeling it’s about her and Andrei. Though who would’ve said something? 

Her stomach drops on the walk over, her palms sweating as she fiddles with her staff badge. When she walks in, she sees Doug, Mary, head of the HR department, Coach Brind’Amour and Andrei himself all around a rectangular table.

Mary offers a warm smile. “Hi Christina.” 

Christina tries to smile back while shutting the door behind her. “Hi Mary and everyone.” 

“Please take a seat,” Mary says. The only empty one is next to Andrei. Christina gingerly sits down. “I guess we’ll just cut to the chase. It’s come to our attention that you and Andrei here are in a romantic relationship.” 

She blinks. Well, yeah. But-“From who?” 

“From me.” Andrei says. She whips her head to look at him and he grimaces. “I’m sorry. I know we planned to go together next week, but I slipped up in front of Coach this morning and…yeah.” 

“Of course you did,” Christina mutters. She hears Doug trying to cover a snort. “Um, yes, uh, we are. Seeing each other. Together. Whatever you wanna call it. We were going to come to your office next week. We weren’t gonna hide it or anything, I promise.”

“I understand,” Mary says. “First of all, your job is not in jeopardy. You’re not going to get fired because of this. Especially because it’s obvious you two weren’t trying to hide anything. ” Christina knows that, but she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t a little bit relieved. “Workplace relationships occur all the time. However, as I’m sure you both understand, your particular situation is a bit different. I have to ask when you two started this relationship.” 

Christina lets Andrei take the lead, partially curious about what he’ll say. He doesn’t hesitate. “New Year’s Eve.” 

She smiles internally. It’s nice to know he considers their first official date as serious as she does. 

“You do understand that in the workplace, there are boundaries.” 

Andrei and Christina both nod. Christina continues, twisting her fingers. “Of course. I’ll obviously continue with my responsibilities as I have been since I joined the organization and continue to do the best I can do with every player and staff member. Our relationship won’t affect that at all, I promise.”

“And I also understand the boundaries,” Andrei adds. “This will also not affect my performance on the ice and off. I continue being professional with all staff.”

“You both understand that no matter what happens that your professional relationship comes first?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you both understand that when you come into work, you’re at work and focused on work?” They both nod. Mary looks around the room. “I mean, that’s really all I got. It seems like you two understand. I’ll draw out the paperwork and get it back to you two in a few days. Doug?”

Doug clears his throat. “First of all, I called this and Steve owes me $50.” Andrei lets out a surprised laugh but Christina isn’t even fazed. “Only thing I got is that I should probably take you off as the main person of contact for Svech for his general recovery regime we started in the beginning.”

She kinda saw that coming. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Andrei about to protest but she kicks him underneath the table. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“No worries. I’ll just take over. There’s not much to that anymore anyways, right?” She nods. He grins. “Great. As long as you keep doing the good work you’re doing, no issues here. Coach? Anything to add?”

Christina swallows looking at Coach Brind’Amour, but she breathes easier when he smiles a bit. “Nothing really from me. Svechy, you know what I expect from you. That doesn’t change. And Christina, you’ve done your job wonderfully thus far and as long as that doesn’t change, which I’m sure it won’t, no issues here. Do your teammates know, Svech?”

Andrei smirks. “Some of them have probably picked up on it. Nothing for sure though.”

Coach grins wryly. “You can be the one to tell them then, should you want to.”

“You’re gonna get chirped like hell,” Christina snickers, making everyone in the room laugh. 

Andrei looks over at her with a small pout. “And you won’t?”

“A little. But you’re the one playing with them. I’m just an lowly assistant trainer.”

Doug cackles. “Chrissy, I think you underestimate how much the boys like you. Get ready for comments everyday.”

“But not too mean,” Andrei says. 

Christina snorts. “Down, boy.” She turns back to Mary, Coach and Doug with a smile, feeling more comfortable now. “Is there anything else?”

Mary shrugs. “Besides the paperwork I’ll get you two to sign later, nope. You two are free to go. Thanks for coming in."

They all file out of the conference room while Christina and Andrei linger. Once everyone is out of earshot, she playfully shoves him. “Really?” She deadpans. 

“I’m sorry!”

She chuckles. “It’s fine. At least it’s out of the way. Would appreciate a warning next time though.”

He nods solemnly. “I know. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She swallows, before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek and going their separate ways. 

(Andrei lingers to watch her turn the corner of the hallway, a big smile on his face. Rod watches him)

…..

three years later 

The times that Christina is on the bench has gotten higher and higher the longer she’s been here. Hell, she’s one of few women to this day that has been on an NHL bench as a trainer, which is ridiculous since it’s 2027 and she’s just doing her job. Doug’s son is getting married this weekend so Christina knew she’d be taking over head duties for this game against the Rangers long before. 

It’s thrilling every time though, being on the bench. Everything’s so much louder and things seem to move so much faster, even though she’s been doing this for three years. Since puck drop, she’s been in the zone and thankfully so far, not needed. 

Until Andrei gets checked. Hard. Which rarely happens since he’s the one usually doing the checking. 

Fights break out on the ice, whistles are blown and Christina doesn’t need the ref’s signal — or anyone’s — to know that she needs to scurry out there fast. She’s praying that it looks worse than it is. 

She bends down next to Andrei, who’s crouched over in pain and places a gentle hand on his back. “Hey, baby. It’s me. Can you tell me what hurts?” He’s breathing heavily and doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “You have to tell me what hurts so I can help you.” He mumbles something in Russian and while Christina is 90% sure of what he’s saying, she can’t take any risks right now. “English, baby, please.”

“Chest.”

Okay. Lungs. Maybe ribs. He’s talking and breathing fine, even if heavily. “Okay,” she nods, going through her mental checklist rapidly. “Can you skate off by yourself?” He nods and she just rubs his back, giving him a few seconds. He eventually gets up on his own, which is a good sign, and she tries not to eat shit as they both get off the ice and go straight down the tunnel. 

Once he’s sat down on a training table, she puts her hands on his cheeks. “Drei. I need to hear the words from you.” 

Even in his injured state, Andrei knows. “I’m okay, solnyshka. Just hurting a bit.” 

“Okay. Let’s get your gear off and see what’s going on, yeah?” She helps him get off his gear until he’s completely shirtless. “Lie back for me.” She does her routine, pressing in specific spots and seeing how he reacts. She winces every time he hisses, even though it’s helping her determine what’s wrong. She goes through her questions, quickly determining if he’s done for the day or may be able to head back out. It's the end of the second period anyways, so they have more time to assess. 

“You got your shit rocked.” She says bluntly. She smiles lightly when she gets the reaction she wants, which is a snort out of him. 

“Yeah, which is fucking annoying.”

She swallows. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Think it was more of just an impact hit.”

“Good, good.”

“What are you thinking, Doc?” Andrei jokes. “Am I good to go for the third period?”

“That really depends on you,” she says. “Like you said, it seems like it was more just an impact hit. Beside soreness and tenderness, nothing’s out of place or broken or sprained. But it’s all about how you feel.”

“Then why do you sound unsure?”

“Because I’m trying to talk to you like your trainer, not your fiance.”

Andrei softens and she has to look away. “Talk to me like you’re my fiance, solnyshka.”

“It was just a scary few seconds there, when you didn’t get up. That’s all.”

She swallows as he puts down the ice pack and puts his hands on her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She waves his apology away. “It’s okay. Getting hit is part of the gig. I know that by now.”

He rubs his thumbs on her cheek. “Still. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just hard sometimes. Seeing you go down. Keep icing,” she instructs, backing away. Christina’s not afraid of being caught with PDA nowadays. Everyone in the organization knows they’re together after three years. But she still prefers keeping up a level of professionalism at work. 

“I think I’m gonna go back out, but I do limited minutes.”

She furrows her eyebrows. That doesn’t sound like him. “Limited minutes?” He just shrugs. “Andrei.” She deadpans.

“It depends on me, right? How I feel?” He says, throwing her words back at her as he starts putting his gear back on. 

“Yes. But you’re Andrei Svechnikov. You don’t know what the word limited means because you have no sense of self preservation.”

“Limited minutes,” he says firmly. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“The ring on my finger kinda indicates that I’ll always worry about you,” she responds dryly. 

He laughs, standing up. “Only for tonight, to be safe.” They hear the boys about to head out for the period and start walking out of the room. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“Just doing my job.”

He pulls her in to place a quick kiss on her lips. “And you do it well.”

“Good luck out there. Love you.”

“Love you more.” He runs back onto the ice with his teammates as she follows slower behind.

“He all good?” Coach Brind’Amour asks when she’s back on the bench.

“Yeah. Up to him if he wants to take every shift, but he’s cleared to go.”

Coach nods, “It never gets easier, does it?”

“Hm?”

“The look you had on your face when Svechy went down. It’s the same look I have when my son goes down. Still. And he’s been playing his whole life.”

She shrugs, trying to be casual. “It’s part of the job I signed up for.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

They both watch as the teams skate to center ice to take the faceoff. No, she thinks. It most definitely does not. 

It’s close to midnight when she and Andrei are walking out of the arena together. She yawns as she leans into him and he puts an arm around her shoulder. Luckily they have the day off tomorrow. Maybe she’ll force Andrei to try a new recipe for dinner together that she found online.

It’s not until she’s in bed, listening the shower run as Andrei quickly rinses, does she see her notifications. Fifteen texts from six people.

She clicks Layla’s first. It’s a link to a short Twitter video. She clicks on it. 

It’s a short clip of the broadcast right after Andrei’s injury, a replay she winces at, cameras showing her running out and all the chaos before they head into the tunnel. But it’s what the commentators are saying that Layla — and all her other friends who sent her messages — are freaking out about. 

“Svechnikov seems to be alright, able to get up on his own and slowly skate to the bench, which is always a good sign.”

“Christina, the Hurricanes’ assistant athletic trainer is out there with him, with Doug, the head trainer out for a few games for family obligations. Fun fact, she’s one of the few female athletic trainers in the NHL. Fantastic at her job and an incredible person as well.”

“Another fun fact to those who may not know, Christina and Svechnikov are engaged, getting married sometime next year. And that’s a beautiful Canes love story if I’ve ever heard one.”

“I can imagine it isn’t easy to have to see your fiance go down like that, even if it is a part of her job. They’re both heading down the tunnel now, so we’ll see if he comes back out for the third period. Hopefully he’s okay.”

She locks her phone. It’s been known to the general public that Andrei is engaged. He had posted on Instagram when he proposed. But it had been a silhouette shot and he hadn’t tagged her out of respect for their privacy. Christina’s Instagram is private too, so very few people they don’t personally know had put it together. 

Until now, that is.

“You saw it too?” Andrei says, coming out of the bathroom.

“Yeah. A bunch of people sent it to me.”

“And?”

“They didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. What do you think?”

He slides under the covers and kisses her forehead tenderly, “I love being known as your fiance. I’d ask you everyday to marry me if I could.”

“Sap.” She feels him laugh as she leans her head on his chest, drawing circles on his bare skin. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m always gonna be okay. I have you.”

She kisses his lips before yawning, and he reaches over to shut off the lamp. 

(When Christina goes into work the next morning, Taylor’s waiting for her in her office. With no greeting, they set their laptop down and press play on a video. It’s a compilation of her and Andrei’s little pre-game ritual they had started a few months after they started dating. 

It’s Andrei, usually in his game day suit, and her in the hallway of whatever arena they’re in. He grabs both her hands and kisses her three times. Twice on the lips. Once on her forehead. She always adjusts his collar even if it doesn’t need to be adjusted, and then they’re both off to their separate ways. 

Christina had no idea Taylor had been filming this. For years, apparently, if the description in the bottom right of the video indicates anything. 2024, 2025, 2026 and this year, 2027. 

“I was gonna originally ask you if I could post it the day of your wedding,” Taylor says as the video ends. “But I also would never post it anywhere without you or Svech’s permission. I’m perfectly prepared to just keep this in the archives and never let it see the light of day.”

“You’ve been filming that all these years?”

Taylor smiles softly. “I have. The clip from last night is everywhere, with the broadcast talking about you two while you’re helping him on the ice. Twitter’s going crazy.  And I was thinking, and no pressure at all, but I was thinking that we could post this today. Everyone always loves behind the scenes content, like Marty screaming Svech’s name. I have a feeling everyone’s gonna love this little ritual too.”

The video has been replaying automatically and Christina can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. If you think it’s a good move, I trust you. You’re the social expert.”

“Well, perfect,” they grin. “I’ll catch Svech when he comes in to ask for his permission too.”

Christina snorts. “He’s not gonna say no, I can promise that.” 

He doesn’t. Taylor posts the video three hours later. The internet goes nuts. Andrei surprises her with dinner when she gets home after him, two plates of delicious-looking pasta on the table with a candle lit and a vase of fresh flowers. But the most beautiful sight is his dimpled smile. 

She kisses him. Hard. It feels like the first time again.)

~*~*~

tag list: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lmk if you wanna be added!!)

[jasmines-library]

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left. 

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and  shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly. 

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls. 

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough. 

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room. 

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips. 

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence. 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside. 

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly. 

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment. 

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

~

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls. 

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none. 

You were trapped. 

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor. 

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps. 

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest. 

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance. 

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered. 

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder. 

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed. 

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives. 

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped. 

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind. 

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob. 

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too.  They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

[frvnkcastles]

LIKE HEAVEN ABOVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: After Frank saves your life, you’re there for him through thick and thin.

Warnings: Violence, language, feminine nicknames, implied smut, mentions of death, reader is a teacher, reader wears glasses

Word count: 5.6k (wow)

Author’s note: Omggg y’all, I dug this up from my Pages app, it’s literally almost 3 years old and that’s why I’m a little nervous to post it but I thought it might actually be some of my best writing, so here we go :) It takes place through Daredevil season 2 all the way to the end of The Punisher Season 1, and I have to admit, I honestly feel like Frank was NOT ready for any kind of love interest during Daredevil but I took some creative liberties, anyway. So this is a little out of character on that front. I’m rambling, I hope you enjoy!! I’m gonna get back to your requests soon <3

Frank felt like somehow days passed by in a flurry yet every second dragged on like the worst torture he had endured — which was saying a lot considering the literal war he had gone through, and the fact he was currently lying in a hospital bed; broken, bruised and with a drilling hole in his foot. And yet waiting to see you was the one thing that got his confidence to falter, his brain to shortcircuit.

For a man so stubborn and determined to do things on his own, he had crumbled so fast when presented with the opportunity to see you again. He hadn’t even realized he had ended up caring about you so deeply, not until the blonde journalist had stepped into his room and the words just poured out of him.

”Would ya do me a favour?” Frank asked as the woman was leaving the room, his gruff voice so uncharacteristically meek and vulnerable, and therefore capable of turning her head immediately. ”Please”, he added weakly, ”my girl… I��there’s someone I need to see. Just once. Please.”

Maybe she was curious about meeting the one person who seemed to mean anything to The Punisher anymore; maybe she felt surprisingly bad for him or maybe it was both, but Karen found herself doing as he asked and tracked you down. She reached out and a few days later… you were walking down the hallways of the hospital, uncomfortably shifting the weight of your leather jacket from one arm to the other, your stomach churning in nervous anticipation.

The sight of several armed guards standing outside the room you were being walked to made you gulp, but you weren’t scared of the man inside. You were scared to see the kind of condition he was in, to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, scared of the moment you’d have to walk out in the uncertainty if you’d ever see him again. But not him. Never him.

Something in Frank came to life when you appeared at the doorway; something he thought to be long dead and buried only for you to always revive him. He lifted his head from the worn pillows and sighed in some kind of relief, only for guilt to lodge into his heart when he saw you scanning his body.

He looked awful, no way around it. Littered in bruises so severe you could barely see his face, you struggled not to cry while looking at the multiple machines connected to him and the abundance of bandages on his tired limbs. What really got to you, though, was the handcuffs on his wrists and the straps across his chest and stomach to make sure there was no room for him to move any more than necessary to sit up and lie back down.

”Jesus…”, you sighed breathlessly, your hands beginning to shake as you walked over to him with a frown so deep it hurt his heart. He knew he might have been a selfish asshole for dragging you here, for making you see what he had tried to protect you from this whole time, for letting you get attached right before it would all go to shit, anyway. But he wasn’t strong enough to push you away. He was capable of enduring much, but he was weak when it came to you. He had tried it, at first, keeping you at arm’s length but you got under his skin in a way that was irreversible and it hurt more to resist than it did to give in. For him, anyway.

”Looks worse than it is, sweetheart”, he rasped, and with a scoff, you finally met his eyes only for the depth of them to catch you off-guard and make you choke on your own tongue. He looked just as attentive and kind as the day you had met him — you swore you’d never forget the way he had hid you behind the counter of the diner, looked right into your eyes and promised he’d make sure you’d make it to class tomorrow; what would the kids do without their teacher, after all?

”They said your foot was… that there was a…”, you stammered, hoping to counter his words with an argument that failed as soon as you tried to get it out. He had never judged you for your tendency to stutter, though, and he didn’t do it now, either. Simply nodded and let you process.

”Yeah. Yeah, there was”, he admitted quietly, licking his split lips as he watched you move to the chair next to his bed and slowly sink down. Even with all the pain in your eyes, you looked so beautiful in one of your worn band shirts and the skirt you had promptly tucked it into, your glasses heavy on your nose and the shimmer of your lipbalm like a red thread for Frank to hang onto like his life depended on it. Amidst all the chaos and ache of his recent weeks, he could just close his eyes and think back to you, and somehow he felt at peace. At least for a second.

”I wish I could… make it all better”, you whispered sadly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek as you looked at his bruised cheekbones.

Frank’s hand reached for yours only for the handcuffs to stop him, the noise of the movement alerting the guard outside the door and pulling a swear from Frank. When he settled his hand back by his side, the guard seemed to relax a little, making both of you sigh — the man wasn’t even allowed to hold your hand.

”Oh, sweetheart”, Frank whispered, ”that’s exactly what you do. You make all this shit better.” He managed a small smile as he tilted his head at you. ”I may just make it worse, but you? Christ, you…”, he struggled to put his thoughts into words, keeping you on your toes as he finally decided against it, ”I’preciate you comin’. I just, uh, I guess I wanted to see you before I get dragged into a courtroom and… yeah. Yeah, there’s no happy ending for me. But for a moment there, you helped me believe there might be”, he went on, only breaking your heart with each word.

You wiped your eyes and chuckled softly. ”You don’t give yourself enough credit, Frankie. You’ve really made things better for me, too. And you deserve a happy ending, however that might look for you”, you swore, casting your eyes at your trembling hands. ”I know it might be weird to say, but I’m grateful I met you. Life-threatening danger and all. You and everyone else may not see it the same way, but you are a good guy. You are”, you continued before sniffling and getting up from your chair enough to press a kiss on his forehead.

You were careful and gentle, unwilling to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt. Yet when you moved to pull away, Frank grunted and reached for your wrist, stopping you from leaving. For a moment, you were forehead to forehead, your lips inches away and his breath mixing with yours.

”Sit with me for a bit? Yeah?” Frank pleaded, and when you nodded, he swallowed and smiled weakly. ”That’s my girl.”

He didn’t see you again until the trial. He spotted you right there in the benches, dressed in your finest red shirt that had his thoughts running a million miles while being walked to the stand. He was dressed in a suit, too, and he almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculous thought of a date swirling in his head. Maybe, in another lifetime, that could have been reality — not him being on trial for murder with you trying to tune out the hate speech spewed at him from the other half of the courtroom.

Most of his bruises had healed by then. You found small comfort in that.

You didn’t get to tell him he looked good, though. You didn’t get to say a single thing when he was announcing his guilt with a booming roar, and the next thing you knew, he was being walked out of the courtroom with a prison sentence looming over his head. You didn’t blame him for doing what he did, and you certainly didn’t expect him to choose you over his morals. But nevertheless, you couldn’t help but cry as he was taken out of sight and you were left with the realization you may never see him again.

You were sitting outside on the steps of the courthouse when a strange hand extended a tissue for you. Just as you looked up, nearly blinded by the sunshine, you were glad you hadn’t said your thought out loud when you saw Frank’s lawyer poke his cane at the steps until he figured where to sit. He lowered himself next to you just as you took the tissue and thanked him for his kindness.

”You’re the woman”, he stated matter-of-factly, and when you turned to him in confusion, he chuckled quietly. ”I recognize your perfume. It… stuck to him”, he explained — even if his explanation remained vague — but you had no time to present any further questions when he continued. ”Frank Castle is not a talkative man. But I’ve noticed whenever he does speak, his words carry meaning. He doesn’t do small talk or state the obvious, he… he only shares what he considers important. And if that is the case, then… you are extremely important to him”, he elaborated before drawing in a deep breath and sending a small smile your way.

Your heart both broke and leaped at his words. You hadn’t exactly doubted it, but it meant a great deal to know Frank cherished you as much as you cherished him.

”And he is to me”, you returned quietly, pulling a slow nod from the man — Matt — who then turned his head at you curiously.

”If you don’t mind me asking… how does a teacher find herself with The Punisher?” he wondered, and considering it your turn to chuckle, you turned to your hands and recalled the night that had turned your life upside down.

”He saved my life. I know that’s how all the cliché fairytales go, but he did. I was at my favorite diner to get some grilled cheese after a long day of work. I was so close to making it, too, when these, uh, thugs came in. Looking for him, unsurprisingly. There was only one other person besides us and they managed to escape before the shooting began, so… Frank hid me behind the counter. He told me he’d keep me safe, that I’d get to see the kids I teach again the next day— he’d heard me talking to the cashier. He’d make sure of it. And he did. He took care of those guys and afterwards he walked me home. I—I owed him my life so I figured the least I could do was ice his knuckles. He must have been barely ten minutes in my apartment but it meant everything. We just… couldn’t get rid of each other after that”, you explained, the sunlight suddenly feeling warmer on your skin and the smile on your lips so free of worry. For a second, anyway.

Matt listened intently — not only to what you were saying, but you. And it didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion. ”You love him”, he declared, and with your head snapping towards him, you frowned.

”We haven’t—there’s nothing—”, you began, your stutter seeping through again, and Matt smiled.

”Whether or not you’ve acted on it, I can hear it. You’ve fallen in love with him”, he emphasized before humming, ”and I think, somewhere deep down underneath all that trauma and guilt and unwillingness to face the facts… he feels the same way.”

You stared at him, disbelief all over your face as you thought about Frank and all your brief touches, all your sweet words and reassuring looks.

”Could you tell him I’ll be right here? Please? Just… let him know that even if I can’t be by his side, he’s not alone”, you whispered, and although he seemed to consider it for a second, Matt ended up nodding.

”I’m sure he’s gonna need that.”

And he wasn’t wrong. Prison was no easy feat, not even for The Punisher.

He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to you. One moment he was sitting in court, listening to his vigilante of a lawyer speak on his behalf, and the next he was being dragged out in chains with your worried face amongst the angry civilians being the last thing he saw. And the big bad Punisher had gone so far as to beg Karen to let him see you for the second time; let you see him, but before she could even consider making it happen, he had been shoved into a white onesie and sent on his way to prison with his jagged memories trying hard to recall the last words you had spoken to him.

It had been something kind — that much he had decided on while sitting in his cell. You were always so fucking kind, and so understanding, even when he doubted he deserved it. You were a good person; a troubled one but you had weathered every storm and stuck to your morals, and he admired that to no end. You didn’t have a judgmental bone, not a single ounce of hatred for anyone who didn’t deserve it, sometimes not even those who did. He thought that maybe he was unworthy of your friendship and sympathy sometimes, but you gave it to him anyway, without question and without expectation. You liked him for who he was, not who he had been, and you didn’t try to change his mind and steer his path.

At least he had the message Red had passed onto him to keep him going.

It was those unexplainably good-hearted intentions of yours and the unconditional support he hadn’t realized he missed so much, that made him fall in love with you. He struggled with it for a while, wondering if he was ready; if he should have felt guilty, but eventually the desire to keep you safe and the longing to hold you close became too evident to ignore.

And he truly knew when one of the assholes he had put down had taunted him about his lady, only for his mind to go to you instead of Maria.

He had been writing a letter to you when his heart-pouring onto paper was interrupted by a taunting laugh outside his cell. ”Writing a love letter to your lady?” one of the gang members in his block teased, and with a grit in his teeth, Frank forced himself to not pick a fight — a successful attempt until the burly man went on. ”Would be a shame if anyone got their hands on your girl now that you ain’t out there to protect—”, he continued, his words cut off with a wheeze when Frank clamored out of his seat and promptly stabbed the pen into his neck. It was a good thing he had already signed the letter.

Realistically, he knew it may have been an empty threat. Nonetheless, as soon as he was out of prison, the letter tucked in the pocket of his jacket, he made his way to you. Making you were safe was priority number one — and if he’d get the chance to hand over the envelope and open his heart to you… Well, that would just be the cherry on top. He had promised to get out and tell you how he felt, to stop being a coward and admit that he wanted to be there for you, that he loved you, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.

Although, things never went exactly as planned.

He had so much determination and courage in his heart when he knocked on your door, but as soon as you opened it and your short figure appeared right in front of him, it all drained from his system. All he was left with was bare amazement and the reserved hope that you’d still welcome him into your home — he knew he had burned more than enough bridges with his little stunt in court, and he had spent many sleepless nights wondering if he had scared you off, too. That worry only now flared into a genuine fear as he watched astonishment wipe across your face, his own expression meek and his large body trying to shrink on itself to seem less intimidating.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he managed, his voice raspy as ever, his dark eyes scanning your face and trying to make sense of the speechless trance you had been stunned into.

It was justified, of course. Who would expect a convicted criminal on their doorstep?

That wasn’t exactly what was on your mind, though. You had never doubted that Frank would get back up somehow; he couldn’t be kept down — but you couldn’t believe he had come to you. A man like him surely had places to be, people to kill, things to do and somehow… he was right there in front of you in all his glory, not bleeding out and in need of stitches, either. Just… there.

You didn’t realize how emotional the sight of him had gotten you until you opened your mouth and the words escaped you with a choke. ”Is it okay if I hug you?” you cracked, and with a deep, even relieved sigh, Frank let his tense shoulders drop and his head bob in a nod as he opened his arms.

He welcomed you gladly, his big arms winding around your smaller body to encompass you against his entirely. He realized then that you were wrapped up in one of the hoodies he had left behind, his confidence boosting but his heart breaking just a little at the thought of you sitting at home alone in his clothes, comforted by his scent and wondering if he’d ever come back to you. And right there and then, he knew he had made the right choice in doing so.

”I missed you”, you whispered into his chest, your heart doing somersaults at the firmness of it, your eyes fallen shut as you breathed him in and basked in his warmth and all his rough edges that only confirmed he was real and not a figment of your imagination, not a daydream, even if he had occupied nearly all of them for the past months.

”Missed ya too, girl”, he muttered into your hair, and as he held you there, grateful to have you again, the doubt began creeping in and the letter in his pocket started to seem like a bad idea. What if it would simply push you away, just when he got you in his arms?

Swallowing, he then decided maybe it was better not to bring it up.

”Hey, I, uh…”, he cleared his throat when you stepped back to welcome him into your apartment. He treaded carefully, like any second now you’d change your mind and turn him away — and he wouldn’t blame you, either. Trouble followed him wherever he went, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming to you every time. ”Look, there’s… a lot going on, y’know? Some shit might go down and I just…”, he continued, uncertain of his own words as his gaze fell to the nervously fiddling hands in front of him, ”I don’t want ya to look at the news and rethink the kinda guy I am, y’know?”

Chuckling, you shook your head at him. ”The news couldn’t change my mind about you, Frankie”, you reassured in a way that had his chest tightening. ”You’re my friend and—and a good guy, even if with… unique methods. But you are. Just because you have blood on your hands, doesn’t make you a bad man”, you went on, but he could tell you were nervous, too. He just couldn’t see past himself enough to understand it wasn’t fear making you tremble.

”I think you are loyal and sweet and protective and… capable of making people feel safe and appreciated. When I’m with you, I feel respected and understood. Never judged or unsafe”, you added, and with an amazed twinkle in his dark eyes, Frank looked up at you. Jesus, that was exactly how he felt around you. His lungs and throat were screaming at him to just tell you, but instead, he gave you a doubtful tilt of his head.

”You’re not scared?” he confirmed quietly, and with a small smile, you gave him a look.

”I’m not scared of you, Frank. I’m…”, you breathed in, hesitating before widening your smile and shaking your head, ”I’m not scared.” What you really wanted to tell was that you were nervous because you liked him — loved him. But you never felt threatened by him.

”Good”, he swallowed, defiance suddenly ablaze in his eyes as he seemed to relax. ”’Cause I’d never hurt ya. Shit, you make me wanna…”, he laughed, unsure where he was going with that thought. ”I just wanna keep you safe, sweetheart. Look after you”, he finished with a sigh, the kind that knew he was officially in too deep. You got him good.

”Then I’ll look after you, too”, you promised, gesturing at his hands, ”starting with those knuckles of yours.”

He was almost amused, but when you seriously dug a small tube of hand cream from your bag and began rubbing the lotion onto his bruised hands, all he could do was stare at you, completely enamored by your kindness and the feeling of your gentle hands tending to his damaged ones.

It was almost ironic, really — you were gentle, he was damaged. In your mind, it was the other way around, and maybe that was why it worked. You were different in so many ways but the bare essentials were still there, making you an undeniable match even if neither of you were brave enough to say it out loud right now. But him being in your apartment and you lotioning his calloused hands spoke in volumes, reassuring you both that it was safe like this.

He hadn’t been wrong, though. Shit hit the fan fast and in a matter of days, Frank Castle was a dead man as far as the world was concerned.

Before that, though, he was coaxed further into the realization of just how important you were to him. He was used to nightmares, in fact, he anticipated them each night. And yet, that night, his hands still smelling like your vanilla lotion, he found himself dreaming of you, your big smile, your sweet laugh and your soft lips.

Jesus Christ, he wanted you so bad. All of you.

It was a little harder to go about his mission then. You occupied his mind constantly now, and he began to resent himself for being such a coward and not giving you the letter, after all.

And when he jumped off an exploding ship, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell you. Once he made it out in one piece, he decided he couldn’t risk losing the opportunity again.

You had just seen the news on the TV, and as badly as you wanted to believe no body meant no death, your stomach was twisting and turning. The idea of Frank being gone, just like that, was one that began chipping at your sanity. Thankfully, you didn’t get to sit with it for very long when there was a knock on your door, and you practically ran to open it, never more relieved to see the hunk of a man.

You tugged him into your apartment and sealed the door behind him before hugging him tight, on the verge of tears as you felt his firm body against yours and consoled yourself. He was there. He was alive. Well? Debatable.

”I’m okay, sweetheart, ’m okay. Can’t get rid of me that easy”, he chuckled darkly, his heart skipping a beat when you pulled away and looked right into his eyes. You looked so beautiful yet so vulnerable, and he couldn’t put his feelings into words when he realized he had gotten you so worked up. He hated to cause you any pain, but to know you cared that much?

”Shit…”, he breathed, licking his lips as he gently placed a hand on your jaw and groaned. ”C’mere”, he whispered before leaning down to kiss you, both your eyes closing as he placed his lips on yours, deep and tentative. You melted closer to him, your hands resting on his vest while he cupped your face and kissed you hard, breathing you in and reveling in the taste and feeling of you.

It was better than he had imagined, all anger and hatred leaving his system for the fleeting moment when he got to have just you, nothing else.

He wanted to take his sweet time with you but the yearning was too great to contain. In no time, you were lying on your back on your mattress with Frank on top of you, trying to hold back some of his weight as he kissed your neck and unzipped your skirt. He muttered words of praise and flattery against your soft skin, eyes blown wide with genuine admiration when he kissed his way down to your thighs and made you repeat his name in desperate begs and pleas.

A part of him was sure he was dreaming again, your head rested upon his bare chest, his fingers carding through your hair as you listened to his heartbeat and basked in the afterglow of the hours spent together. It was the middle of the night by now, the sounds of city never fully gone but toned down, your bed feeling like a safe haven amidst all the chaos around you both.

But Frank knew there was no permanent escape from what he had reshaped his life into. The thing was, you didn’t want to be an escape — you wanted to be part of it.

Nevertheless, he spoke up gruffly. ”Y’know I can’t stay, right?” he was quiet, his words a weak whisper, like a shameful confession he didn’t want the world to know. ”I mean, I’mma be with you tonight if you’ll let me, but I… I can’t leave things unfinished. The world thinks ’m dead, y’know, that’s just… It’s an advantage and I just—”, he went on, but you interjected with a nod and your hand smoothing up and down his chest soothingly.

”I know. I understand”, you promised before kissing his collarbone softly, ”I know, Frank. You don’t need to explain any more than you want to.”

He swallowed then, trying to muster up the courage to say what had been on his mind for so long. ”I, uh, I can’t ask you to hold out hope for me, but uh… I just want you to know…”, he tried to find the right words, licking his lips nervously before sighing and burying his face in your hair with a somber kiss. ”You don’t owe me shit. But you’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Look, I gotta do my thing, but I don’t want you to think it’s easy to walk away from you because, fuck… I don’t wanna lose ya, sweetheart”, he explained further, making you smile against his scarred skin.

”I will always hold out hope for you, Frank. My door will always be open for you”, you replied simply, and even though you didn’t elaborate further, it was all he needed to hear. Just knowing you weren’t ready to give up on him.

And that was why he wasn’t going to do it, either.

He kept in touch in whatever small, Frank-esque ways he could. A note on your door, a novelty mug on your windowsill, a comforting message from an unknown number. Sometimes all you had was the remains of his aftershave enveloped in the sweaters he had left behind, or the slander of his name on the news even when he was presumed dead — it was small but it reminded you that he was, in fact, alive, and as long as he was that, then you had faith that one day he’d be back on your doorstep.

Sometimes he felt like an irredeemable asshole for making you wait for him. If only you had the chance, you would have told him to get his head out of his ass — you had fallen for him, and whether he wanted you to be there or not, you would have thought about him, worried over him, longed for him. He could have tried to distance himself from you if he wanted to, but he was so deeply entwined into your life by now that all the roots simply couldn’t be plucked out anymore.

And he may have been stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. Knowing how he felt about you, how being away from you made him ache, he suspected you shared the yearning and he knew that trying to push you away wouldn’t have healed either of you from it. So he kept in contact however he could, but not too close to keep his enemies off your trail.

You checked the news every day. And when you saw Billy Russo’s face plastered across your screen, his arrest making the headlines, you knew it was a good day.

Accordingly, there was promptly a knock on your door, and you felt your heart soar as you peeked through the peephole and saw the only man worth waiting for on the other side. You swung the door open, and in an instant, a smile stretched across his bruised face as he help up a bouquet of daffodils, making you grin, too.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he murmured, pulling you into a hug that shut off your senses from everything but him — all you smelled, felt and heard was him, your systems threatening to fail as you clung onto him like your life depended on it and felt his lips leave soft kisses on your forehead and hair. ”There ya are. As goddamn beautiful as I remembered”, he whispered, relieved to be holding you again, even a little proud of himself for making it here.

It wasn’t like he needed the extra motivation on all those long nights away — avenging his family was all the fuel he craved, but knowing that at the end of it all, he had someone to fall back on, encouraged him even more.

”I could say the same about you”, you chuckled while pulling away enough to place a gentle hand on his face and observe all the purple and yellow markings left there. It was obvious he had taken a beating, but if the news was to be trusted, Billy had suffered a fate much worse. And despite all the slowly healing scars on Frank’s sharp features, he was alive, and he was right there for you to admire and tend to.

”This ugly mug?” he snorted while kicking the door shut and pushing his hood off of his head, his hair grown out again and begging for your fingers to run through. Regardless of the mangled appearance, though, he seemed almost hopeful, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He seemed exhausted physically, but mentally, a little less tired. And that made you indescribably happy for him.

”I’m proud of you”, you breathed out, a smile crawling to your own face, ”you did what you needed to do, right? You… you did good. You deserve to rest now.”

Frank looked a little taken aback by your words. Not in a bad way, but it was obvious no one had told him before nor had he expected anyone to. But the quiet chuckle that rose from his throat was genuinely flattered, as was the squint of his eyes as he leaned forward and gave you a tiny nod.

”Thank you, sweetheart. Really”, he rasped before taking in a deep breath, ”any chance I’d, uh, get to rest here? With you?” The look in his eyes was almost boyish, almost nervous, and it made your heart soar the same way his gaze had the first night you had met.

”Always, Frankie”, you promised before placing a hand on his chest and beaming up at him, ”I was hoping you’d say that.”

He licked his lips and looked down at you, hand coming to your neck tenderly with his thumb brushing across your chin. ”I feel like shit for the way I left you back then. I, uh, I hope you didn’t feel like I was just… tryna get in your bed, y’know? It was more than that to me. You are more than that to me. It’s, I dunno, hard for me to put it into words but I care about ya. More than I have about anyone in a long time, I guess”, he explained awkwardly, but you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a single second.

You leaned up to briefly kiss him, and the way he leaned forward to get more made your stomach churn. Nevertheless, you pulled apart to speak your turn, your smaller hand still resting on his bruised cheek.

”I know. I never doubted it. And I don’t expect you to be anyone else but you. I want you as you, Frank”, you reassured, and with a heavy sigh, he dropped his forehead to yours.

”Girl… I want you”, he urged, and you smiled as he briefly touched your lips with the tip of his finger.

”I’m all yours, Frankie.”

[odditycircus-2002]

Quan-Chi's Daughter Intros

A/N: Despite NO ONE asking for this. I decided to make these intros based on the reader from this request. Because of her backstory, my mind started concocting scenarios of her meeting certain characters besides her family. So, I hope y'all like this one.

Sub-Zero

Y/N genuinely: Even with your cryomancy, you have a warm soul.

Sub-Zero: Do not think it means I'll make this spar easier.

Y/N chuckles: I would be offended if you did.

/

Sub-Zero: Is it possible for you to restore Cyrax?

Y/N: Necromancy isn't my strongest suit, but I could try it for you, my friend.

Sub-Zero: That is all either Cyrax or I could ask for.

/

Y/N: How is D/N's training with your Lin Kuei faring?

Sub-Zero: She shows much promise but is reluctant to use her more demonic abilities.

Y/N: That's for the best ... for you AND D/N's sake.

/

Sub-Zero: You were there when Quan-chi remade Hanzo and Bi-Han into specters?

Y/N: I was, and while I could help Hanzo, I wish I could've done more for your brother.

Sub-Zero firmly: He is beyond saving, Y/N.

Night Wolf

Y/N: I still feel guilt for all my years working under Quan-chi.

Night Wolf: You’re not the only that harbors guilt for their past actions.

Y/N: Then we’re fortunate to have been enlightened before it was too late.

/

Night Wolf: Why are you so uneasy in my presence?

Y/N: Your Revenant was one of many that left his mark on me.

Night Wolf: I will do what I can to show, he is not who I really am.

/

Y/N: You allowed Hanzo to best you at the Tournament?

Night wolf: As you and I can both see, his path led to you and the revival of his clan.

Y/N sincerely: And for that, you have my gratitude.

/

Night wolf: Do not let your love for Hanzo become blinding.

Y/N: He opened my eyes to a world beyond the Netherrealm.

Night Wolf: I merely caution you to not mistake loyalty for blind obedience.

/

Johnny Cage

Y/N: You defeated Shinnok in Kombat?

Johnny Cage: Are you also going to say that's batshit insane?

Y/N: No, I wanted to thank you for doing so.

/

Johnny Cage: Man, you are hot as hell!

Y/N: That's because liquid fire runs through my veins.

Johnny Cage: Do you not know what flirting is?

/

Y/N: I'm sorry, but I'm happily married to Hanzo.

Johnny Cage: He's one lucky S.O.B to have tied the knot with such a hottie.

Y/N: I'm fortunate to have him in my life.

/

Johnny Cage: If you're a demon, where's your horns, fangs, and tail?

Y/N: I'm told my true face tends to intimidate humans.

Johnny Cage: It can't be as bad as Sonya waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

/

Raiden:

Y/N: As Dark Raiden, you frightened me.

Raiden: I can imagine many others share your sentiment.

Y/N: But not everyone could look at him, and could almost picture Shinnok in his place.

/

Raiden: Your daughter inherited your demonic abilities.

Y/N: I'm concerned about her losing control and doing something she'll regret.

Raiden: I trust you, and Scorpion trained her as well as you could.

/

Y/N: I may know how to keep Shinnok's amulet out of anyone's hands.

Raiden: What would be better than My Sky Temple?

Y/N: If you allow it, I would toss it into the Sea of Blood, far from anyone's reach.

/

Raiden: I wish to trust you, but it wasn't long ago that I saw you stand by your father.

Y/N: I left his side decades ago, and he then tried to have me killed.

Raiden: It's no surprise that Quan-chi doesn't value even his own family.

Spawn

Y/N: I left the Netherrealm for a good reason.

Spawn sympathetically: I'm afraid the Netherrealm is not through with you.

Y/N with a demonic reverb: It shall NEVER have me again!

/

Spawn: You remind me of someone I loved.

Y/N softly: Did you lose her?

Spawn: She's lost to me for all eternity.

/

Y/N: You were sent back to the mortal realm because you wanted to see your wife again?

Spawn: Just as you cut ties with your father and Hell to be with your husband.

Y/N: Now, we're both free to choose our destinies.

/

Spawn: You've escaped the Netherrealm while all its strongest fighters were after you?

Y/N: As my scars can attest, I almost didn't.

Spawn: You're lucky, then, that you didn't have to make a deal with the Devil to escape.

/

Noob Saibot

Y/N softly: I offer you mercy, Bi-Han.

Noob Saibot angrily: You think I need your pity?!?

Y/N: For you to be at peace, I have to free you of your shell.

/

Noob Saibot: You and your daughter fear the darkness within you.

Y/N: Shinnok and Raiden have shown me more than that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Noob Saibot: You are both fools for not embracing your true potential.

/

Y/N: Sareena still speaks highly of you, Bi-han.

Noob Saibot: I am NOT the one she speaks of anymore.

Y/N: I know, so she'll be relieved to have you gone.

/

Noob Saibot: You married the man who killed me?

Y/N: I did, but I know what Hanzo did to you was unjust and unwarranted.

Noob Saibot: Then I'll take your life as retribution for him taking mine.

/

Cetrion

Y/N: Were my prayers ever heard?

Cetrion: Even from the Netherrealm, I could hear a small girl's pleas for a better life, but I could not intervene.

Y/N lowly: Then you know why I am here...

/

Cetrion testily: You assisted your husband in killing your father.

Y/N angrily: Quan-chi has been dead to me long before Hanzo took his head.

Cetrion: It is not surprising that a demon has no remorse for their sin.

/

Y/N: What makes you worthy of my worship?

Cetrion: I know you seek salvation for your compliance with Quan-chi's schemes.

Y/N: I will not seek that from someone who is compliant with Kronika's plans.

/

Cetrion: Your love and appreciation for life is virtuous.

Y/N: Then why are you so determined to end all of it?

Cetrion: Not end it, Kronika will start anew to restore balance.

BONUS: Shinnok

Y/N: Why in the 10 hells would my daughter ever serve you?

Shinnok: Because of your husband, it is her birthright to take Quan-chi's place.

Y/N with demonic reverb: D/N will not be yours to control!

/

Shinnok: Quan-chi should have beaten you as a child.

Y/N: What makes you think he didn't already try his best to break me every other way?

Shinnok: Obviously, it wasn't enough.

/

Y/N: All you have ever taught me about Death is false.

Shinnok: Then I have but one more lesson to teach you.

Y/N growling: I am DONE with your lessons.

/

Shinnok: Quan-chi's little songbird.

Y/N: I am neither his nor your pet bird any longer!

Shinnok: You are nothing more than lamb to the slaughter.

[willthespy]

The Nico is extroverted and Will is introverted argument is both right and wrong depending on what your definition of both terms is and I have to talk about it. I agree mostly with the original post that claimed this, so just listen and bear with me.

Most people categorize extroverts as ‘social’ and introverts as less so, but in reality (depending on what theory) that is not really true. Because I do agree Nico was a social kid who still has the social skills, but has dampened it down because of his own insecurities and the insecurities he’s been fed due to his parentage. Then for Will, he’s got some solitude and gloominess in him for sure (another introvert stereotype), but shows himself as the (I don’t know what word I want to use for it, but I’ll go with) happy head counselor, because he ‘had to be.’

As for the definition I prefer to use, it’s in fact a bit different. Note that it isn’t a black or white thing, and that you can’t be 100% introverted or 100% extroverted. That’s the same as saying you’re 100% autistic, because all of these terms are all created and used to categorize, and you can’t perfectly fit a category. There’s no such thing as ‘perfection.’

Now, it’s been a while since I’ve properly read about cognitive functions, but as a Feeler type myself, I know most about the different types of ‘Feelers’ to say that Nico has dominant introverted feeling (Fi) and Will uses dominant extroverted feeling (Fe).

While Nico has shown to have social skills, he definitely looks to be a Fi user. He knows who he is (again, not 100% - it isn’t black or white) and what he wants and he doesn’t really base his values on others. I think why a lot of characters with Fi are ‘emo’ or ‘weird’ is because they’re authentic to themselves and don’t bend themselves to anyone else’s will that easily. Now, we all know Nico can be a stubborn prick, but we also can see that in PJO he corrects Minos on who he is. His whole thing there is him being ‘the Ghost King.’ He knows he is, he doesn’t need to be told he is that, he just does what feels real to him.

Also that one scene in ToA (I believe) where Nico is very blunt towards Lester/Apollo and where Will tells him he needs to work on his social skills or whatever? Yeah, that shows their differences in Fi vs Fe. Nico focuses on his inner needs and values (which actually aren’t selfish at all, but important to the entire universe in this case), while Will knows the bluntness isn’t socially acceptable (as far as he knows) and, albeit jokingly, tries to control his outer world to bring it to ‘harmony.’

Note that Nico also has had selfish inner values, wants, and needs. For example, trying to revive his sister. But Will was also selfish when he tried to keep Nico away from the Trogs for example. Fi and Fe aren’t inherently selfish, but their different types might make them make selfish decisions.

Will and Nico both are self-sacrificial, but in different ways. Nico does it for his own internal values and because he feels he’s not wanted anyway, and Will seems to do it because he seems to feel the need to be strong and have an image of himself up for everyone else, even if that means putting his own needs second to his own.

Will also showed some eagerness to absorb and ‘fix’ Nico’s negative emotions in a way. He’s a healer, it’s what he does, right? But meanwhile he struggles to accept or even acknowledge his own ‘darkness.’ (Yes, I’ll talk about this as long as I’ll live. I won’t stop. Ever.)

Also very important. Nico was way more accepting of the Troglodytes than Will. And you might say, “well, isn’t that an extroverted trait?” And I’d tell you: “that depends on your definition!” But in terms of Fi/Fe, it’s Nico who’s showing introverted feeling here. He doesn’t judge, as long as they (the Trogs) don’t go against his core values.

Will, my dumb, dumb, dumb son (note: I don’t actually think he’s dumb), whom I love very much, shows Fe here. He’s quicker to judge because of his sense and knowledge of social norms, but also because of his care for his loved ones. I don’t know, I think both are true arguments as to why he was against the idea of the Trogs.

Also this is why I think it wasn’t too out of character for Will to get all bitchy and negative about the Underworld. And also not why Nico got upset about it, because Will being against his ‘home’, went against his inner self. Boo! Fe vs Fe argument! Take that liberals! (joke)

In short:

Nico is the Fi user. He’s authentic, stubborn (in defense of his own values), actually attracts misfits - because he’s not as quick to judge people who go against social norms - as he doesn’t conform to social norms himself. He’s passionate and emotional (very emotion-driven). If I remember correctly, he also shows to solve problems by talking about it, rather than just cheering anyone up.

When he was ‘unhealthy’, he also retreated from society and went into solitude + lashed out. He also strictly followed his internal beliefs that he was unwanted and all that, while Will claimed that he was the only one thinking that.

Will is the Fe user. He is a healer and nurturer, but neglects his own inner self. He is externally friendly, but can be a bitch. (Sorry not sorry fellow Will lovers.) He can definitely be a bit controlling and less expressive for the sake of his outside world and is also more aware of what he thinks are social norms and cares about them more. (As is seen in ToA and TSATS).

I checked PDB (not the best source, but a source nonetheless) right after this, and people seem to agree. Nico is categorized as INFP (Fi > Ne > Ti > Se), while Will is voted to be ENFJ (Fe > Ni > Te > Si). Thank you for listening to my TED-talk.

[misty-slays-blog]

So as promised, here's the translation of the interview Morfydd did with Knack in August. I am by no means a translator but I did my best. It's not too long. Some rather interesting bits about how she views Galadriel (also the author of the interview gets Haladriel lol). If you want to read the entire interview in Dutch, it's here (I archived it since you need an account to read it on the Knack site, this way you can read it in its entirety): https://archive.ph/HekvQ

Morfydd Clark keeps getting calls for freaky roles (like for a Galadriel who flirts with Sauron)

During the second season of Rings of Power, the young elf Galadriel will be haunted by the ghosts of her past. Much to the delight of Morfydd Clark, who previously made name for herself as a possessed nurse in Saint Maud. “I love looking for those extreme roles.”

“I would have to board a plane to go home and I can't do that, I thought.”

When Morfydd Clark arrived in New-Zealand five years ago, she had no idea what awaited her. The production for The Rings of Power was notoriously secretive. She knew she'd auditioned for a prequel to The Lord of the Rings. But that she would be playing Galadriel, was new information. Clark had been introduced to the franchise as a child, during a family outing to The Hobbit: A Musical in London. Throughout the following years, she collected illustration books about The Shire and the Peter Jackson movies in her bedroom in Wales. “Unknowingly, I've been preparing for a role in the Lord of the Rings universe for fifteen years”, she tells us through Zoom.

But no book could have prepared Clark for the massive scale on which The Rings of Power operates. It isn't the kind of production with casual fans who are willing to swallow everything. And on top of that: the production value was through the roof. Costing a total of 465 million dollars, the series is the most expensive one ever made. One didn't have to look hard to see where this impressive budget went. From the underground dwarven kingdom Khazad-dûm to the eye-catching splendor of Númenor: even those finding the prequel rather lacking – the series has some flaws – has to admit that the cinematography is breathtakingly spectacular, paling other fantasy franchises in the process.

On top of that, there was the fact that Cate Blanchett's adaptation of Galadriel in the original trilogy has turned into movie heritage. “It helped that I play Galadriel during an entirely different moment of her life, long before she became the Lady of Lothlórien. I delved into the history of the elves, who were pretty wild actually. Did you know that they used to throw each other off of buildings all the time? I wanted my version of Galadriel to be strikingly different from the Galadriel she would eventually become.”

Clark's version of Galadriel is a young, brave warrior who indeed barely resembles Blanchett's ethereal elf. The consequences of a rather unfortunate romantic experience might change that (spoiler: the hunk Galadriel flirted with the entire first season? He happened to be Sauron. Even elves can miss red flags). “She realizes now that she, too, might have darkness within her. Her sense of self is in shambles. We all experience this feeling sometimes, but not everyone revives the evilest being in all of Middle-Earth in the process.” The second season is all about the consequences of this error of judgment. “Sauron haunts her the entire time. She finds herself stuck in her own horror movie.”

Clark describes this new and spooky chapter of her life as 'coming home.' Before her career took her to Middle-Earth, she was well on her way to becoming a Welsh Mia Goth. She played in BBC adaptations of Dracula and His Dark Materials, and in 2019 she was promoted to indie darling thanks to Saint Maud, a psychological horror movie made by Rose Glass (who continued her streak with Love Lies Bleeding) in which she played the titular character. “My parents keep asking me why I am always cast in those terrifying roles. But I think it's wonderful. I love looking for those extreme roles. Although, it is kind of strange to always receive calls for freaky parts. Is that the kind of vibes I have?”

Her freaky vibes are definitely lucrative. Among future roles are a Hamlet adaptation and a slasher, earlier this year she acted alongside Matt Smith in Starve Acre, a British indie horror movie. “That was a lucky coincidence. Matt Smith just finished his takes for House of the Dragon, he has given me so much good advice”, Clark says. It was the first time being back to a small set “where the entire crew fits into one room.” “I don't think the sets for Rings of Power will ever feel like the norm.” Because while every series goes for as much CGI as possible these days, with Rings of Power, the crew aims to build as many of the sets as possible. “Wandering around in such a magical world still feels like winning the lottery each day.”

Despite her success, Clark's acting career started quite accidental. When she was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of seven, a directionless school career followed. She quit when she was sixteen. According to British GQ, her teachers called her 'hollol di gwilydd', meaning 'completely shameless'. It wasn't until she began acting, that she found some sense of peace. And when playing in paranormal and magical fiction, she discovered a world in which she can be herself. “Fantasy like Lord of the Rings reverses the status quo of how we think the world should be. I wanted Galadriel to be free of the things that were imposed on me when I was younger. She isn't apologetic. She never doubts whether or not she said the right thing. And that might be the best part about playing her: Galadriel is shameless.”

[peachyfnaf]

Nexus: I am going to kill the people that hurt my family :)

The Family: 👿👹👺NOOOOO THATS EVIL!!!!!👿👺YOU'RE EVIL!!!!👿👹DON'T DO THAT!!!!!👹👺

Old Moon: I am going to kill the people that hurt my family :)

The Family: 🎉Yippie!!!💯✨Promise???✨💯That's so cool!!!!✨🎉We love an overprotective king!!!!✨🎉💯

This ask was sent to me with so much salt, but it's okay, I agree and support you KJDFSHDSF

There's a lot of nuance to the situation, but that doesn't stop me from believing the story would've been objectively better if Old Moon just.. stayed dead? he's a very funny character with an interesting story, but his revival makes his sacrifice for KC, which was (in my opinion) the most impactful thing of the entire show, completely void. Him coming back, plus KC dying, plus O.M only having been stuck in his own head for a few hours, in his eyes? I just. Find that so uninteresting and dull.

I also still hold many grudges for him for how he treated Sun, and I don't think that's ever changing. I love Old Moon as a character, but he was an abusive brother. He repeatedly beat Sun with a metal pipe, insulted and demeaned Sun's intelligence until he 'died', and ofc the whole show started from him leaving the killcode in Sun's head.

And I know that Old Moon is regretful for pretty much all of that. Doesn't mean I have to forgive him for it, though.

Nexus never did any of that. His biggest mistake was lashing out-insulting Earth and Sun, and calling Earth collateral. He tried to kill Bloodmoon and Ruin, not caring if Earth got hurt in the process, and that was wrong of him, yes, I can admit that. I love Nexus, adore him, but I'm not blind to his flaws.

But he never repeatedly beat Sun with a metal pipe. He never demeaned Sun's intelligence to the point where Sun thought he was forever going to be 'the dumb one'. He never put a killcode in Sun's head.

People are 100% allowed to prefer Old Moon over Nexus when it comes to who they like better as a character, and i won't stop them lmao. But even with all the good Old Moon's been doing recently, which is a lot, and I'm genuinely proud of him for, I just can't see him as a better person than Nexus.

But that's just my opinion so. Shrugs jkhsfdd

[silverwhittlingknife]

hi Silver! o/ because that fanart made me wonder - would you happen to know when/where Dick's stuffed elephant plush Zitka turns up in the comics?

GREETINGS CAM <3333 THAT ART WAS SO CUTE

Yeah, I think your instincts are right - it's a truly adorable bit of transformative fandom, but I'm 95% percent sure it's not comics canon. Barbara has canon plushies, but I don't think anyone else does.

I got kinda invested in the investigation (it's hard to prove a negative!) and I ended up typing out an entire History of Elinore/Zitka, so, uh, if you're curious, meet me below the cut for:

Where does Elinore / Zitka - the animal - appear in comics?

Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?

Where does Elinore / Zitka appear in comics?

We're gonna go in chronological order!

Dick's circus elephant friend was first created for practical reasons: in Batman 436, Marv Wolfman does a big expanded flashback to Dick's circus backstory as a way to subtly show us Tim before officially introducing him (so that we can have a technically-solvable mystery-of-Tim's-identity in LPoD). In this comic, there's an elephant named Elinore who loves Dick:

Aww. Such a cute elephant!

Batman 436 comes out in August 1989. New Titans 60 comes out a few months later, in November, and guess what? When Dick visits the circus, he is suddenly surprised by an unexpected blast from the past! It turns out that even though it's been years, Elinore still remembers him!

Here's the part where Elinore remembers Dick:

SUCH a cute elephant. I love her.

(Guess who else still remembers Dick even though it was so long ago. Guess which other character is about to be an unexpected blast from the past. Guess which character Elinore is directly paralleling guess guess guess sorry everything is about Dick and Tim in my mind but I can focus I swear)

Four years later, in 1993, Batman: The Animated Series retells Dick's origin story. They like and keep Wolfman's elephant, but they change her name to Zitka:

Wolfman doesn't return to the elephant beyond those two appearances, and a few years down the line, New Titans gets cancelled and Wolfman's not writing Dick anymore anyway. So the animal gets abandoned for a while, until Devin Grayson, a fan of both Wolfman and B:tAS, revives the Wolfman-era Titans team in JLA/Titans and then the ongoing series Titans 1999.

Grayson then brings back the elephant in a flashback to Dick's past in Titans 16 (Jun 2000), where she imports the B:tAS name. Sometimes I'm skeptical of TV-to-comics imports, but honestly, I endorse this one. You lose the alliteration, which is a shame, but IMO Zitka is a better elephant name than Elinore.

Here's Dick with the newly-christened Zitka in Titans 16:

Grayson also briefly references the elephant in Gotham Knights 20 and - in a final angsty callback - in Nightwing 88 (Feb 2004), where Zitka tries futilely to comfort Dick in the midst of his trauma conga line:

... And... honestly, I think that's it for comic appearances? The two Wolfman comics plus the three Grayson comics.

Both Wolfman and Grayson are writing multiple titles - Batman, New Titans, Titans, Gotham Knights, and Nightwing between the two of them, spanning a big chunk of Dick's post-Crisis canon - and both writers use the elephant for heartwarming moments of nostalgia, which means if you're doing a post-Crisis readthrough for Dick, Elinore/Zitka feels memorable. But I don't think she actually shows up that much.

For post-2011, I am not as well-informed - throwing this out to the dash? anyone know? - but I feel like Zitka the heartwarming symbol of Dick's heartwarming circus past is, uh, thematically very at odds with the Court of Owls evil!circus vibes, so my instinct is that this story element was almost certainly dropped in the reboot.

Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?

In WFA, yes; in main comics continuity, no. Technically, I have not read every comic ever published, so I could be wrong!! But I don't think so.

Below, find my rambling reasoning on the tonal vibes of pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, and post-2011, and why this particular story element doesn't seem right to me for the first two.

Pre-Crisis (...okay, mostly the Silver Age): stuffed animal, yes or no?

tl;dr no, requires too much background knowledge on the part of the reader, plus the elephant wasn't a thing until later

Elinore doesn't get created until post-Crisis, but also just generally, pre-Crisis callbacks are more along the lines of this reference in Batman 129 (published in 1960), where, wow, Batman and Robin are hunting jewel thieves - and it turns out Robin recognized this strongman! BUT HOW?!

The comic goes on to recap Dick's entire origin story in flashback, on the assumption that you may not know it.

(BTW, if you'd like to know more about Haly's Circus throughout the years, nightwingology has a great post here summarizing a lot of fun plotlines and characters!)

Basically: Silver Age comics are very self-consciously episodic and kid-friendly; they're not generally gonna do overly-elaborate callbacks because they don't know what comics their kid readers may have randomly picked up or remember.

By the time of post-Crisis, comic books were being written for an adult audience buying from the direct market, i.e. readers who are collecting whole runs & don't need or want Dick's origin story to be recapped to us in full every time it's referenced. That's why in post-Crisis, we get stuff like "hey, neat, this particular soda brand is getting mentioned in several different books!!" or "in order to understand this story arc, buy SIXTEEN DIFFERENT COMICS in FIVE DIFFERENT RUNS and read them ALL ACCORDING TO A NUMBERED ORDER and also you better be following the individual plotlines and recognize these five minor characters who we don't bother to introduce!! Good luck!!" But the elaborate post-Crisis plotlines - and subtler worldbuilding like a stuffed animal callback to Dick's backstory - don't make a lot of story sense UNLESS you're imagining your readers as completionist adult fans.

So IMO a stuffed animal wouldn't be a pre-Crisis thing unless it was The Episodic Story Of the Week, and I don't think a stuffed animal is action-adventure-y enough for the fast-paced storytelling of the Silver Age. (Unless it, like, came to life and tried to eat you or something.)

Post-Crisis: stuffed animals, yes or no?

tl;dr: no, Dick's a manly tough guy, he's not gonna have a stuffed animal, that'd be lame, like something Tim might do

Part of the edgy grimdark adult vibes in 80s/90s comics is that some characters who used to be kinda silly & goofy & lighthearted - like Batman and Robin - get reimagined as Serious and Angsty and Edgy in a Tough Cool Manly Brooding Way. This massively affects characterization for Bruce, Dick, and Bruce and Dick's relationship.

(I obviously love this change & love the tense Bruce-and-Dick interactions, but plenty of fans of the earlier fluffy comics really disliked the edgy retcons of Miller / Wolfman / Starlin / et al.)

The upshot is that post-Crisis is a period when you could have a recurring reference like a stuffed elephant, but you wouldn't have a stuffed elephant, not for Dick. I think a toy like that would be too cutesy / childish / effeminate to give a male character in post-Crisis, unless you were poking fun at him.

Now, you could probably let Tim have a stuffed animal, because Tim is sometimes cool but also sometimes a tryhard loser who is faking being cool and not entirely pulling it off (see e.g. the Robin comic where he practices tough-guy faces in the mirror, or the Teen Titans comic where Conner discovers his cringy Enya CD, or when he's fanboying over Connor and it's awkward, etc etc.). A stuffed animal would be deeply embarrassing, and you'd have to be careful to compensate by having Tim do something cool afterward - but Tim's character concept allows for "he's kind of a loser sometimes."

But Dick isn't!! In post-Crisis, Dick's a tough / impressive / "cool guy" character, the kind of guy anyone would want to be, even in the flashbacks where he's Robin, and even in the stories where he's more lighthearted than angsty. It'd be kinda lame for Dick to have a stuffed elephant, so he wouldn't. I feel like Dick would be more likely to poke fun at it if someone had one, like when he's making fun of Wally for liking the Hardy Boys. Dick could have a Batman action figure, at most, and if he had one he would have it ironically.

Basically: in post-Crisis, a male character hugging a stuffed elephant feels more likely to be a punchline to me, not something poignant. (Even with Tim, Tim could have an embarrassing stuffed animal, but he couldn't hug it when sad - that's too far. Maybe Booster Gold might do this. Probably he wouldn't, but spiritually, he would. Sorry Booster ilu! <3)

Instead, Dick instinctively deals with his inner turmoil like the TORTURED ACTION HERO he is: by punching things and brooding and yelling and joining the mob and sleeping on rooftops and going on obsessive secret missions and acquiring Angsty Stubble!! Just like Batman!

(Technically I don't know if Bruce ever joined the mob but you know he would.)

Anyway as you know this is my favorite continuity and I am poking fun affectionately, but uh, yeah sdfsfdsfs. No stuffed animals.

Post-2011 / Infinite Frontier / Wayne Family Adventures: stuffed animals, yes or no?

tl;dr it's in WFA! Probably not anywhere else, but it could be.

Post-2011 stuff tends to be cutesier overall, most of all in the current Infinite Frontier era. So I don't feel like this would be tonally out-of-line with IF comics. Taylor tends to go for more meme-y references rather than fanfic references, though.

So the obvious best fit is WFA, which is aiming for a rough approximation of Silver Age family-friendly vibes - wholesome, episodic plots, Teaching Good Moral Lessons For The Youth, etc. - plus lots of Easter eggs for fanfic readers and some comic references.

And look, here we are:

Aww.

Whew - that's everything I could find!

Anyway as you can probably tell, I LOVE the elephant, so this was a very entertaining rabbit hole to go down, thank you <3