#for now imma just enjoy my dash/catching up on what I missed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

world-of-fire-and-flight · 1 year

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I posted 709 times in 2022

That's 621 more posts than 2021!

169 posts created (24%)

540 posts reblogged (76%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ambiguouspuzuma

@heroes-villains-side-blog

@selene-stories

@writingonesdreams

@smuwfy-side-blog

I tagged 642 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#writeblr - 297 posts

#author appreciation - 267 posts

#not my writing - 219 posts

#heroes and villains - 182 posts

#hero x villain - 116 posts

#writer appreciation - 104 posts

#my writing - 93 posts

#fire & flight - 78 posts

#b's reading recs - 69 posts

#bookblr - 63 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and also because i'm curious how necromancy and healing powers would work together so...i need a running list of things i intend to write😅

My Top Posts in 2022:

Love Letters: Part 2

A/N: I did not intend to write more than two parts for this, it’s shaping up to be a short series🤦I may not know where this is going or where we’ll end up, but god am I excited for the ride😆

Warnings: intimidation, implied threats, slight interrogation, gaslighting (idk if this counts as gaslighting, but I’m putting a warning in because it felt kinda gaslighty to me), minor anxiety/fear, stressful situations, the author not knowing this was to become a series

Part 1 | Part 3 |My masterlist

Hero spent the days after the gala laying as low as they possibly could without disappearing altogether. They didn’t know what to make of Supervillain’s…proposition. But they knew one thing: there was no harm in heeding the criminal’s “suggestion” to blend into the shadows for a while. Hero knew they couldn’t disappear altogether, for their absence might draw more attention than if they were to take a step back from crime fighting. A small step, an easy step. Stop a low tier villain here, break up a petty crime there, but nothing more. Above all else though, Hero had to keep a finger on the underground’s pulse. They didn’t know when or if they’d hear from Supervillain again, so their best defense against Other Supervillain was to be as in the know as much as possible.

Their mind was still reeling from the revelation that Politician was Other Supervillain. Hero didn’t know if they could wholly believe it…but it explained a few things. It explained how Politician had gotten the money for their successful campaign, how things they seemed to want to improve suddenly got taken care of even when they hadn’t garnered the support to do anything about it, and how they’d remained in office despite multiple attempts on their life by the city’s more ambitious criminals.

So, Hero had reasoned over and over again, either Politician was a chess master, Other Supervillain benefitted from their mayorship, or the master criminal and controversial figure were one and the same.

Hero bit their lip, turning the puzzle over in their head again. It was possible Supervillain had lied to them — about everything. But why? And why would they be working with Other Supervillain? Was it under duress? Were they playing a long game to take Other Supervillain’s mantle? What was the angle, and how did Hero play into it?

“That’s a wonderful question, darling.”

Hero whirled around. Other Supervillain stood in the shadows of the dimly lit street. Hero went stock still, their blood running cold, as the master criminal approached slowly. With all the ease in the world, Other Supervillain backed them against the abandoned brick building. Hero’s lips quivered as Other Supervillain crowded them, trapping them against the rough brick. Their eyes darted to either side. Crestfallen, Hero realized they’d wandered into the abandoned industrial center of town. The old factory was the pinnacle of the city’s devastation, and by virtue, the beginning of masked crime.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Hero,” Other Supervillain said humorlessly. Hero shrank under their gaze, curling into themselves as Other Supervillain leaned in closer. “I didn’t frighten you, did I?”

“M-maybe,” Hero shuddered. Maybe if they hadn’t gotten lost in their speculations, they wouldn’t have strayed so far from the observed streets. Maybe if they had paid more attention to their patrol, they wouldn’t have wound up trapped between a building and the imposing criminal bracketing them in with their arms on either side. Close, crowded, but not touching. There was that at least. That bit of space that teased clarity, and maybe even a dumb sense of safety.

Other Supervillain studied them closely. There wasn’t an ounce of distinguishable emotion on their face. All Hero could do was stare back at them, wide-eyed and with a tight chest.

“You attended my gala the other night. Why?”

“I—”

“Don’t,” Other Supervillain interrupted quietly, “think about lying to me. I’ll know, and I don’t have time to deal with you further. Answer my questions and nothing will happen to you.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that? Trust you?” Hero questioned skeptically.

Other Supervillain’s lips quirked in what might’ve been a wry smile. “When have I ever gone back on my word?”

Hero swallowed. Was there any sense in asking them to clarify what they meant by that? If they were talking about their life of villainy or as a public figure? Besides, Hero didn’t know if Other Supervillain knew what Supervillain had told them at the gala, so maybe they didn’t know that Hero knew who they were — if Supervillain was to be believed that is.

“I was following a lead.” A half-truth, but honest enough that Hero didn’t think it could be considered a lie.

“What kind of lead? I need you to tell me everything, Hero. The harder you make this, the less likely this will end amicably.”

“The stolen artifacts. I received a tip that they might be at the gala, and I went to retrieve them,” Hero hesitated, not certain if that was the answer Other Supervillain was searching for, or if they wanted Hero to trap themselves by allowing them to prattle on under the threat of…well a vague threat of being hurt.

“You’re searching for the artifacts? From the museum?” Other Supervillain asked with what sounded like doubt. Hero’s head spun. Fighting crime was so much easier when they could gauge what was going on in their enemy’s head or their next action, but Other Supervillain gave little indication to help them in any way.

“Yeah,” Hero nodded. “They were worth a lot of money. Could fund…I don’t know, but if a villain stole them and sold them on the black market…”

Other Supervillain pulled back slightly, but didn’t drop their hands from either side of Hero’s shoulders. Hero watched them wearily as the other seemed to study them from head to toe. Their breath coming a little easier now, Hero hoped that was all.

“I didn’t steal them. I’m not a petty thief.”

“I didn’t say you were. That’s why it’s called ‘a lead’, you follow—”

“Hero,” Other Supervillain chastised, “I’m losing my patience. Tell me, why did you dance with Supervillain?”

Hero flinched. “I didn’t know it was them, not until later.”

“What made you realize it was Supervillain?”

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47 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

Love Letters: Finale?

A/N: I’ve loved writing this series and am already planning a spinoff or something because there’re still some things I’d like to explore with these characters. Idk when this is happening, because I have a few prompts lined up, but it’s happening 😊 Also just a head’s up that this is about 3.8k words. Happy reading! Huge thank you to @selene-stories for the amazing prompt that kicked this series off and all of your amazing commentary throughout the series💜

Warnings: Implied torture/past torture, blood reference/blood mention, confusion, healing, injuries, past restraints/reference to having been restrained, implied medical scenario, scars, deserved mental breakdown, angst, some fluff

(This is not a prompt)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Hero inhaled deeply. Their lungs nearly burst from the full breath. Lashes fluttering under their eyes, Hero was almost reluctant to open them, but knew the action was inevitable. They didn’t want to deny themselves the illusion of warmth and comfort of the bed that surely didn’t exist beneath them in place of the cold, damp basement floor and the rough ropes binding their wrists and ankles. Instead, they slipped further into that dream and burrowed deeper into the soft darkness of their subconscious. In the fraying moment between vague wakefulness and unconsciousness, Hero swore their cheek nestled into a cushy pillow that simply couldn’t exist. Somehow, it felt more like a reality to them than the absent chill of the basement that should’ve plagued them.

A sigh escaped Hero’s slightly parted lips. Slowly blinking their eyes open, Hero’s hands curled limply against—Hero’s brows furrowed. Mind swimming, they turned their head to the side and took in the dim room and the nightstand that met their gaze. Like a flood, their memories rushed to the forefront of their mind.

Other Supervillain had saved them. Other Supervil—Politician had saved them and had apparently killed Supervillain and Superhero…

“Dead, probably.”

What was Superhero’s fate? Were they confirmed alive or dead? Which did Other Supervillain prefer? Which did Hero prefer?

Uncertain and afraid of the answer poking around the edges of their mind, Hero curled up on their side and drew the blankets tighter around themselves, nearly burying themselves in the warm comfort of alleged safety. Other Super—Politician had promised not to hurt them, and waking up in a cloud of blankets and pillows surely indicated the truth in that declaration. Soothed for a time, Hero couldn’t fight the heavy closing of their eyes.

The next time Hero peeled their eyes open, golden sunlight peeked through the miniscule part in the heavy curtains of the bedroom Politician had left them in. They couldn’t note any changes in the room, if Politician or someone had checked in on them or if they’d been left to their unconscious state in blissful solitude this whole time. Some part of Hero argued that they could stay here forever, unbothered and unburdened, but the stronger part of Hero knew that they should get up and see just what their circumstances were.

Groaning, Hero forced themselves onto their elbows and fought to sit up against the headboard. Panting heavily, Hero laid a gentle hand on their abdomen. Their eyes widened. Bringing their frail hand to their face, Hero’s eyes narrowed and examined the dry skin of their wrist, and even their nails for any sign of the blood—their blood—that had spilled.

Not even a scratch remained on their skin. By all means, there was no sign of the rope burn or how the rope had peeled and shredded their skin until Hero had believed there was nothing left but bone to scrape at with every shift of their bonds.

Sagging against the headboard with a twist of their lips, Hero studied their limp hands. They wondered, briefly, what had been real and what they’d imagined. Their broken—or were they only bruised?—ribs were real, a fact echoed by the pull of pain in their torso whenever they moved.

Bringing their hands up, Hero went to scrub at their face, but where they thought they’d feel their own skin was only cloth.

Not just any cloth, though, Hero realized with a quick breath. The cloth was strong, nearly solid, the type of cloth used in supersuits. With trembling hands, Hero gently took the cloth from their face and turned the revealed mask over in their hands.

Why had Other Supervillain put their mask on them?

Admittedly, Hero appreciated that the master criminal had put them in something…less blood-soaked and grimy, but why had they given them their mask?

Hesitantly, Hero moved the blankets down the bed and exposed their lower half. The bruises and lacerations they expected to see were gone—if they’d even existed. The most evidence of their predicament lay in healed scars and reddened knees from being forced to kneel for so long. Aside from that, there were no serious injuries. There was only the memory, or the nightmare, of them.

Their lips twisted as they willed their leaden limbs into motion. Their bare toes awkwardly brushed the plush carpet as if they’d forgotten what it was to bear any weight—and Hero hadn’t even stood up from the bed yet. They didn’t know if such a feat was even possible.

Were their injuries truly that bad that they could only be partially healed? Or had more time passed than they’d initially believed upon waking?

Hero’s hands clenched into fists by their sides, the fabric mask crumpling in their fragile grasp. With one last deep breath, Hero hauled themselves to their feet. Their limbs bowed and Hero curled inward, nearly hunched over with drooping shoulders. Too weak to bear the weight of their body, they leaned against the nightstand to steady themselves. Settling a light hand against their stomach, Hero took a hesitant step forward in the hopes that their limbs would remember how to walk.

By the time they’d made it to the bedroom door, a few beads of sweat dotted their brow. Their breaths came in heavy puffs. It took a few embarrassing tries to get a handle on the doorknob and twist it as their eyes dotted with stars. But Hero managed to get the door open and lean against its frame as if they’d collapse.

Squinting out into the hallway, Hero glanced up and down its length in search of a sign—any sign with any meaning. But the hallway was empty except for the light and a long decorative carpet runner that covered its length.

Hero sighed, exasperated by the choice that lay before them. Was anybody here? Was Politician here?

Glancing down at the mask in their free hand, Hero wondered many things. What had they done to Supervillain? To Superhero? How could they be certain that Supervillain was dead but hesitant to declare the same fate of Superhero?

Hero’s blood ran cold. What had they done with the Ancient Sword?

Pushing away from the door, Hero hobbled down the hallway. Stiff and numb all the same, they kept a hand on the wall to keep them upright. More like, the wall held them up as they could not. Slowly progressing down the hallway, Hero sniffed. And sniffed again. Their mouth began to water, but no matter how much their mind urged them on, their body couldn’t go any faster than this snail’s pace.

The warm spice in the air beckoned them. Nearly dragging their exhausted body down the rest of the hallway, Hero stumbled out into a bright kitchen filled with that savory scent and an oppressive heat that billowed from a steamy pot on the stove.

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55 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

The Lair in the Woods

A/N: I wasn’t really planning on posting anything of mine today, but I’ve had my eye on this amazing prompt by @some-messed-up-writing-for-you for a while now and decided today is the day! Prompt is in blue font!

Warnings: Nearly freezing to death, unedited, medical scenario, HIPPA violation because I think it’s cool if people with healing powers can sense old injuries/illness when examining another person

LMK if I forgot anything!

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | The Lair in the Woods series masterlist

Civilian staggered through the knee-high snow. Clutching their arms tightly around their middle, they tried to hunch their shoulders and tuck their head close enough to their chest to shield their face from the biting wind. It was a useless effort. The snow and howling wind blasted their body until they could hardly keep their eyes open. Trudging through the dense snow for what seemed like an eternity, sweat dripped down Civilian’s spine and collected along their brow. Their breaths were more like wheezes at this point.

They were never going to make it back to their cabin.

Supervillain let out a long sigh, dropping the papers they were studying back on their desk. “Come in.”

“Uh, Boss?” A henchman they hadn’t seen before poked their head into the office, not even daring to step over the threshold of the door. “We…found someone in the woods…during one of our, uh, one of our patrols.”

“And I care because?” Supervillain sat back in their chair, tilting the seat back slightly to stretch their legs out under their desk, and clasped their hands over their stomach.

“Other Henchman believes they’re a civilian and Right Hand can’t identify them, so t-they sent me to tell you.”

Supervillain studied them for a moment, turning all the different scenarios over in their head. It could be a hero. It could very well be a trap, an attempt to infiltrate their lair, but if Right Hand couldn’t identify them…

Their lair was fairly isolated, and in a storm like this, no one in their right mind would be out and about. By all accounts, their base was impenetrable today. Even if someone from one of the few vacation homes scattered across this mountain had lost their way in the woods, they would’ve known better than to go out on a day like today.

“Where are they now?” Supervillain stood from their desk and pulled on their jacket. Their winter fortress had a notorious heating issue in the sense that the hallways were freezing and only the rooms with a roaring fire or space heater were in any sense comfortable.

“In the infirmary with Right Hand.”

“You’re dismissed.”

The lackey bobbed their head and left without another word. Supervillain shook their head, lips pursed as they put on their weapons belt. They wouldn’t last long in Supervillain’s organization if they couldn’t make a report to their superior without shaking in their boots. Perhaps it was only the cold. Maybe they were still pretty new, but either way, Supervillain expected their resignation on their desk sooner rather than later.

With slow, deliberate steps, Supervillain crossed their office and locked the door behind them. They clenched their jaw against the cold air of the hallway that assaulted them as soon as they’d step foot over the threshold. The shock trailed down their spine, making them grateful for the fur-lined collar and thick fabric of their coat.

They had every intention of ransoming whoever it was that had shown up on their doorstep. Unless it was Mentor. They’d be more than happy to rid the world of the likes of them.

Quickly, they wove their way through the converted ski lodge they’d purchased for a bargain until they reached the infirmary, and with it the warmth of a space heater. The infirmary was on the main level of the lair, and therefore in one of the original parts of the old ski lodge. Supervillain doubted any patients would find must peace given how the wind howled right outside the thin windows did nothing to dampen the sound.

Right Hand had their feet kicked up on Medic’s desk, their laptop balanced on their thighs and their brow furrowed in concentration.

“So, who was dumb enough to brave this storm?”

At the sound of their voice, Right Hand glanced away from their screen, their eyes flashing with annoyance but the frown of their lips faded into an amused smirk when they realized it was only them.

They raised their brows. “I’m surprised Henchman didn’t pass out,” Right Hand laughed. “They might just survive in this job.”

Supervillain chuckled, stripping off their jacket and draping it over a spare chair by the doorway.

“As far as our human popsicle goes, I have no clue. There’s nothing on them personally to indicate any kind of association, hero or rival. I’ve checked every record we have on hero IDs and hacked the Union but so far nothing,” they grumbled. Their attention shifted back to their screen. “The Guild has better cybersecurity, so it might take me awhile before I can get into their system and find their personal records.”

Supervillain nodded. “And their condition?”

“Unconscious, but not hypothermic,” Right Hand said. Sighing, they added, “Medic says the patrol found them just in time. We just have to thaw them out and wait for them to wake up.”

“Lucky them.” Supervillain took a step closer to the medical bays, seeking out their prey.

As they approached the last medical bay, Medic swept through the curtains and ensued they were drawn, their focus entirely on the patient chart in their hands.

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59 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

Love Letters (Part 1)

A/N: I had to search high and low for this lovely prompt by @selene-stories because I knew I had it saved in my drafts and it was a MOOD. So glad I found it again because I distinctly remembered the gist of it and needed something more flangsty than angst😅 Prompt and prompt lines (I repeated a line later on) are in blue font!😊

Warnings: betrayal, manhandling, violence, physical assault (in the form of hand-to-hand combat), gunshots/gun references/being shot at, threats, dangerous situations, emotional distress (not necessarily a panic or anxiety attack, but similar emotional state to both)

Part 2 | Part 3 | My masterlist

~ ~ ~

“Dear Hero,”

-the back of the invite read, in beautiful calligraphy; Not a smudge or hint of a trembling hand in sight.

Hero held the paper tighter, not quite sure what it was about it that made their heart flutter and their lips to curl upwards.

“I am delighted to know that you are attending the event. However, it is better to get in with an invitation.”

Hero had trailed their fingers over the letters too many times, even found themself doing it right at this moment. They had frowned the first time they’d read it, but now it brought them an odd sense of excitement.

“With growing fascination,

a potential friend.”

Perhaps attending it wouldn’t do them any harm. They did plan on snatching the artifacts the villains had stolen, anyway, so this way they wouldn’t even have to sneak in.

Besides, they should find out which one of their teammates (or even co-workers?) had left this on their doorstep, shouldn’t they?

Out of sheer curiosity only, their thoughts had lied. Nothing will go wrong, it is just a gift and an invite.

But of course it did, as always it all crashed and burnt, but Hero hadn’t thought it could ever go thisbadly.

“Stop trying to help,” they finally snapped.

But all Supervillain did was beam at them. “But then,” they purred, “what kind of potential friend would I be?~”

There was simply no rock big enough to hide under.

Hero stiffened. Their feet faltered, already weary of the dance they didn’t know but struck completely dumb by Supervillain’s implication. Supervillain tightened their grip around Hero’s hand as their words registered in the shocked mind of the city’s golden savior. Limply, Hero let the master criminal lead them through the steady movements, seemingly undeterred by their sudden stillness and sputtering. “You — what did you just say?”

“I said,” Supervillain started slowly, eyes scanning the crowd of party guests over Hero’s shoulder as they yanked them closer by the waist, “‘what kind of potential friend would I be?~’”

Hero’s veins seemed to strain from how tightly they’d coiled at the non-threatening forcefulness in Supervillain’s voice. This wasn’t at all what they’d expected of the master criminal. And they certainly hadn’t expected them to be the author of the mysterious invitation they’d received for this party. Vigilante, maybe. Teammate, most likely what with all their connections from having grown up in a mafia family. But Supervillain?

They should’ve known. The stationery they’d used was simply too nice to belong to anyone Hero knew and trusted. They should’ve known this invitation was a trap.

“And where,” Hero said through gritted teeth as they tried to regain their bearings, “did you hear that?”

“I wrote it,” Supervillain grinned. “Didn’t you recognize my handiwork?”

Hero swallowed. “So? You’ve caught me, now what?”

Supervillain’s expression fell. Their darkened eyes met Hero’s for the first time since they’d pulled them into this dance. Frowning, Supervillain said, “I haven’t caught you. I’ve saved you from doing something incredibly stupid.”

“Yeah, right,” Hero scoffed. Their breath caught in their throat as Supervillain spun them out and pulled them back in again, this time with their back pressed to their chest.

Supervillain’s breath tickled the delicate skin of Hero’s ear as they leaned over their shoulder. “Politician is Other Supervillain.”

The master criminal’s words were still sinking in as Hero found themselves being spun out and back in again. Wide eyed, they slowly forced themselves to meet the intense gaze of the master criminal still leading them through the agonizingly slow dance.

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65 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Visitation Rights

A/N: I saw this prompt and my mind instantly… well you’ll see😆Anyway, thank you to @nuttynutcycle for this prompt — this probably went in an entirely different direction than any one of us thought it would (if y’all are looking for something amazing and kinda dark for the same prompt, check out @yourheartonfire's prompt fill), but that's why I love writing prompts - you never know what you'll get!

Prompt is in blue font! | Warnings: minor violence, (verbal) fighting, Villain’s heart melting/wholesome fluff, language, about 2.5k words…. I didn’t mean for it to be this long….

My masterlist

Villain straightened and took a half step back to admire his work. The sunlight glistened over the lake outside, his own little slice of paradise, and warmly streamed in through the unobstructed window, pooling right on the fluffy white cushion. It was utterly perfect.

Crouching down he packed up his tools, sliding the drill bit back into its place amongst the others in the hard case. Pencil, measuring tape, level, and —

Villain reeled back, jumping to his feet. Adrenaline coursed through his blood as his eyes landed on the source of movement he’d scene in his peripheral vision. Spotting the jet-black cat circling around the top of the newly mounted window seat, Villain’s muscles loosened.

Tsking, Villain wagged his finger at the unblinking creature. “Vengeance, what have I told you about sneaking up on me like that?”

Purring slightly, the cat answered with a wide-eyed, affectionate tilt of her head, pausing in her ritual of settling into her seat as Villain had previously seen her do. Who knew he’d be a cat person? Who knew that ruthless, destructive, utterly evil Villain would take pity on a sopping wet cat with fear in her eyes, roaming the city streets just miles away from here?

Certainly not Villain.

Sighing, Villain gestured to the window seat, though more specifically the view outside the window as Vengeance turned her back to the room and laid down in the patch of sunlight streaming in through the window. Villain’s heart melted at the sight.

So small. So precious.

It was utterly devious — not to mention embarrassing — how such a tiny creature had managed to waltz her way right into his heart. And it’d only been a few hours! Not days, not weeks, but hours! And already he’d been convinced to install a permanent fixture in the middle of his picturesque living room all for one little black cat with a sob story.

Pathetic.

There was no other word for what had happened to him and his villainous integrity in the last few hours once he’d managed to get the poor thing washed and dried…

And then he’d had to bandage himself up. Big cats might like water, other cats might like water, but this cat certainly did not.

But once Vengeance was dry and had began to calm down…

She’d started to mewl. And then she’d started to weave between his legs, pawing at his ankles as she looked up at him, staring straight into his soul.

And that’s how he’d sent six henchmen out to find cat treats and toys and this window seat before dismissing everyone for the day and retreating to his lake house for… well he didn’t have to figure everything out this afternoon. He could make adjustments to his schedule to accommodate Ven as soon as he knew how much work a cat could be.

Leaving his tools to be put away later, he bent over so his face was level with Ven’s and scratched behind her ears as they watched out the window together. She immediately began purring and leaning into the touch, and Villain swore, nothing could ever make him happier. People, even other animals, tended to flinch away from him. Though he supposed the mask and cape and his reputation did that. Even his own henchmen, people he’d known for years, had grown weary and antsy around him. But Vengeance didn’t seem to mind him one bit.

Still, it didn’t stop the scratch marks she’d given him while trying to clean her up sting any less.

“Isn't it beautiful?” The villain gestured to the view below. “Your own window. See, when you're good you get treats.”

Not that he’d actually denied her a treat when the henchmen had come back to their warehouse lair loaded down with bags from the pet store. It was the only way she’d get in the cat carrier.

The cat only purred louder, resting her head against the cushion and turning onto her back, exposing her stomach. The ultimate symbol of trust.

“I think we’ll get along just fine, don’t you, Ven?” Villain smiled, indulging her.

They both flinched, coming into full alertness when the door bell rang throughout the entry way and down into the sunken living room. Villain stood and glanced at the cat, asking if she knew who it might be. Vengeance didn’t provide an answer.

Cautiously, he made his way to the door. Staring through the frosted glass, he could only make out the figure of a woman with wild hair and an average stature.

So much for the remote location and lack of neighbors.

The bell rang again.

Pursing his lips, Villain reached for the doorknob, summoning his power to easily infiltrate the intruder’s mind and wipe the memory of this place — and him — from their mind, all before they could get a word out.

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89 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #my writing #finally jumped on the bandwagon🤣#imma consider this my official “I'm baaaack!” post #but we'll see if I can actually get a snippet up this saturday....maybe that'll be next week's mission😅#for now imma just enjoy my dash/catching up on what I missed

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dollopheadedmerlin · 2 years

Note

yo, pretty sure ive sent you an ask before, but can i just say I've been following you for years now (ever since you wrote that giant!merlin fic on ao3 a while back and i fell in love w your writing) and I'm just. really happy to see you still around the web, active and stuff. not even writing, just. i dunno. seeing your posts on my dash are like "oh yeah my old friend, good to see what they're up to, I'm glad they're doing okay" even tho you have no idea who i am and i have no idea who you are.

dunno, but just wanted to say im always really happy to see you active online!!

🥺 this is so nice and lovely

This made my day, imma be honest. I really miss writing and haven't had too much time to do so lately and I'm just really glad to hear you liked my silly giant fic and think about me.

Even though I have a hard time remembering mutuals usernames and don't always catch on to regular rebloggers profile pictures, I really do appreciate the people on this dinky lil website and enjoy seeing familiar icons and old memes

I try to stick around 🥰

#mine #ask #asks #tumblr #anonymous #anon

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eerythingisshaka · 3 years

Text

Ficmas Day #24 “Christmas Ain’t Christmas Without Tre”

[Trevante Rhodes x Reader]

Word Count: 1.8k

Running out of your work building, you curse under your breath as the snow falls heavily to the ground. You have a bad habit of not checking the weather and in the winter time that spells for a potential disaster, much like tonight. The snow, coupled with the fact your car is in the shop, means getting home is not going to be easy.

You blow your hand for heat as your other roots through your coat pocket for your phone. Scrolling through a rideshare app, the little map showing your area has no cars available for picking you up.

“Fuck! Why is everyone so scared of the fucking snow?” You look around and see the diner down the street from you is still open and take a chance on heading for it. You teeth chatter the whole time as you run and the wind blows flakes into your eyes. Crossing the street you hop the curb but your heel hits a bit of ice, making you fall flat on your behind.

You wince in pain and get up slowly, walking up to the door and letting yourself in.

“Aw man, lady! You ok? I saw that from back here. That was a damn nasty fall!” The employee behind the counter shakes their head as they bring dishes back to wash. You wave a hand signaling you’re fine.

“I just need to sit here. Warm up and wait for a ride.” You slide into a booth and groan in relief as you sink into comfort.

“You’re not gonna see a car in this.”

You look up and see Trevante standing by you in a camel colored coat looking suave and manicured as usual. You can tell his eyes are a bit nervous though.

“How in the hell, of all places, are you here right now?” you ask harshly.

Trevante looks away with a quick smile. “I’m just here catching some late night eating. Doesn’t mean anything with you. I’m just about ready to head out anyway so-”

You sit up quickly. “Wait, you drove? Can I ride with you?”

Trevante’s eyes widened. “Don’t you have a license?”

“Yeah, but my car is in the shop. Plus no rides for me to call, so...please?”

Trevante’s expression gives you an instant feeling of regret. “Wow, we say please now? You’ve grown up, girl.”

“Ahhh whatever dude, just help me out. We never gotta do this shit again.”

He points his hand out for you to lead the way out the door. As you both walk through the parking lot, your mind runs some scenarios through your head: awkward conversation, awkward silence, his hand reaches for the gear but you think he wants your hand and you catch his and he looks at you funny-

“Why are you so quiet?”

You jump as he breaks your inner monologue. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re kinda acting weird. My car’s right here.”

You go around to the passenger side as he unlocks the doors, sliding into the seat and quickly shutting the door.

“It’s cold.”

Trevante turns his motor on. “No shit it is.”

You adjust the vents in the dashboard so that the air flows your way directly. “I mean that’s why I’m not talking much.”

“Ok.”

The car is silent except for the roar of the heat circulating around you. You wriggle in your seat trying to find a comfortable position but with little progress as your knees hit the dash in front of you constantly. Reaching under the seat, you pull the bar to slide the seat farther back.

“You changing my shit over there?” Trevante asks

You reach for the side of the seat to lean it back a little. “Can I have this one time courtesy? Ain’t my fault you let little people ride in your car now.”

“I don’t let anyone ride in my car or make any changes in my car.”

You scoff, leaning back and crossing your ankles. “You let me do whatever I wanted in this car.”

Trevante grips the steering wheel and looks up through the windshield. “That was before.”

“Yeah, you right. My man has a bigger ride than this so it’s usually not an issue but…” You don’t finish your sentence as you feel the atmosphere change in the car. You look sideways at Trevante but he’s facing his driver’s side window. You silently curse yourself for coming off as boasting and try to change the subject.

“You gonna drive or what?”

Trevante leans back with his hands in his lap. “I’m waiting for this snow to pass.”

“What do you mean? That might take all night, I gotta go home now.”

“You meeting somebody or something?”

“Maybe, like that’s your business anyway!”

Trevante laughs in a way that isn’t funny. “That’s crazy.”

You turn to confront him. “What is? I don’t have all day to be here.”

“You’re coming at me while I’m trying to help your stranded ass!”

“No one asked you to-”

Trevante leans forward waiting. “Say again? No one asked me...to help? Was that what you were gonna say?”

You sit back quietly, watching the snow fall against the window in fat clumps. You ask yourself why you’re so mad and combative but maintain a wall for the time being and hoping for the snow to stop.

Trevante fidgets with a vent that is turned to you, adjusting it to blow in his direction. “What happened to your car?”

You clear your throat. “It’s a transmission thing or something.”

“Damn, it’s still got that issue?”

You nod. “Yeah but, it’s fine. It’ll get handled.”

“Ok. I could’ve looked at it but-”

“I don’t need the help.”

Silence overtakes you both again as the snow entrances you, filling each space of the window.

“Remember when I got you that shelf for your TV? And it delivered that afternoon, but I had to go to work so I said I’ll put it together when I got off. And when I got home-”

You snort laughing at the memory. “It look like someone broke in and destroyed a perfectly good shelf.”

Trevante laughs with you, covering his face. “Girl, don’t nobody fuck that up like you, man I coudn’t even do nothing with it. Half the pieces were missing and it look like you beat it with a hammer at some point.”

“It was frustrating! I did my best! There you go hating!”

Trevante shakes his head. “I’m not hating. Like you said, you did your best. You try a LOT.”

“It’s my best quality! Giving up is not my forte!”

You study the fabric of Trevante’s from his bicep to his wrist. When your eyes land on his hand, you see an old scar from the very shelf debacle.

You lightly smack the back of his hand to get his attention. “Let me ask you for one favor: Come with me to get my car so I know they not tryna charge me out my ass for it.”

Trevante shrugs his shoulders with uncertainty. “I’m not sure. What do I get out of that? Driving you home here, checking your car out there? What’s in it for me?”

“Nothing but a job well done.” You wriggle down in your seat comfortably. As time passes, the snow seems to be getting worse. Trevante turns off the car’s engine.

“Why you doin that? It’s gonna get cold!” Your complaints fall on deaf ears however as Trevante remains steadfast in conserving energy.

“If I don’t have any gas to take you home, then what will happen?”

You groan, feeling the chill of the outside seeping in within minutes. You shiver, pulling your coat tighter around and leaning into your knees so you form a ball.

“It’s not all that! Come on!”

“I don’t have any other choice! You’re freezing me out!”

Trevante sighs, placing a hand on your back to give you a shake. “Come over.”

You peek over at him cautiously.

“Since you’re in my care, I’m offering a heat source. Take it or leave it.” He waits with his coat half open to you patiently.

You lean over to him without hesitation, feeling his strength as you lay against him. Resting your heart on his chest, you hear his heart beating loud and strong. Its percussive hum settles your mind, relaxing you as you drift off to sleep.

When your eyes open again, you barely can tell your surroundings as the area seems darker than before. Your hands slide from around his waist as you look up.

“The snow stopped,’ you say out loud, waking Trevante with a slight jolt.

Trevante rubs his eyes and yawns aggressively. “Shit, how long did we sleep for?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna get up.”

Trevante squeezes your arm with sleep still in his voice. “Nah, we’ll sleep better once we out this car.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

Turning our face up to him, you give him a peck on his lips before thinking and freeze in place. You and Trevante stare into each other’s eyes as your lips lock, frozen in fear. You pull yourself back slowly.

“I wasn’t thinking.”

Trevante doesn’t say anything. He just continues to stare, unblinking. “I don’t need a reason.”

Once your gaze fell from your eyes to his lips, your body catapults towards him again, snaking your way around him to let his seat back flat.

As you crawl across to straddle him, Trevante looks around worried. “What about the man you talked about?”

“I lied.” You swing your leg around and start undoing his pants. “I don’t know why, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But-”

You pause unzipping him with a huff. “I don’t need an explanation! You don’t need a reason! That works, yeah?”

His hands reach around you, pulling you in to him. He helps you out of your bottoms, feeling your hottest outside of your clothes than in them. You kiss the familiarity of his hands as they travel every area of you enjoying the ride in his driver’s seat. Your body shakes from being reintroduced to him, unable to calmly enjoy the feast for fear of being hungry again.

When he drops you off at your residence a while later, you hesitate getting out of the car. When he reaches for your hand, you squeeze it tightly.

“I’ll see you later, you know?”

He nods. “Of course. You know where I am. Just text me before the car is ready though so I don’t feel used.”

You laugh quietly. “Come in. Just come inside.”

He looks away with restraint. “That’s dangerous for us.”

“Walk me to the door.”

You get out of the car, waiting for him to follow you. As you get your keys out of your pocket and in the door.

“Imma go now.”

You walk in and leave the door open for him.

#shakafic #ficmas #trevante rhodes x reader

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impala-dreamer · 4 years

Text

Yes, Professor

~ When Mr. Collins asks you to hang back after lecture one day, you know you're in big trouble...~

Misha x Reader

1,730 Words

Warnings: Teacher/Student Play, Masturbation, Oral, Intercourse. Smluff.

A/N: This was a commissioned piece for @letsdisneythings. Hope you all enjoy!

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

“Ms. Y/L/N, hang back please.”

You dropped your bag as he spoke, startled by the deep voice booming from the front of the classroom.

The gallery was already empty as it had taken a few minutes for you to collect your things. Pencils rolled far when you weren’t paying attention and as always in his lectures, your mind was stuck in places other than writing implement locations.

Your hands were shaking as you zipped your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You had done OK on the last paper, not great, but why was he singling you out? Had you done something to catch his eye? Were you flunking out? The questions churned in your stomach as you descended the short but steep carpeted stairs to the front of the room, leaving a sea of empty desks behind.

He didn’t look up as you approached his desk, eyes down and racing over his notebook. A silver pen was balanced between his fingers, dancing as the long digits moved slowly back and forth. The glinting metal caught your eye and you watched it magically wave through space.

You cleared your throat.

He didn’t look up.

It was getting late.

“Mr. Collins?”

He licked his lips slowly and finally lifted his chin. “Thank you for staying,” he said with a gentle smile that did nothing to calm your nerves. If anything, it made them worse. His lips were huge and pink, outlined by a heavy scruff over his lip and around; his blue eyes shone like sapphires in the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Even his stupid bowtie was sexy in some strange way, and you held your breath, waiting for him to explain your staying late.

Slowly, he sat back in his seat, pushing away from the desk a bit as he set his pen down in the crease of his notebook. His eyes narrowed as they took you in, staring at you just as he had his notes.

“How do you think you’re doing in my class, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked out of nowhere, once again jarring you back to reality.

“Uh…” You stumbled to answer, wanting to impress him, to sound smart, but tripping over your own tongue. “Good?”

Mr. Collins nodded patiently, his lips pushing out into a pout.

“You don’t seem to agree,” you cringed, watching his shoulders tense as he looked you over.

“Honestly?” He sighed and sat forward, folding his hands on the desk. “Good isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Great?” you suggested with a little laugh.

He shook his head. “You’re failing, Ms. Y/L/N,” he said firmly. “You’ve been missing assignments and you were late for more than one lecture. I really don’t feel as if you want to be in this class.”

None of it came as a shock to you; you’d been playing it rather loose with your academics this semester, but failing? There was no way you could fail his class and keep your scholarship. Regret and fear churned in your stomach.

“Please, Mr. Collins,” you said quickly, trying not to sound too pathetic, but still garner some mercy. “Things have been a little crazy at work and my roommate moved out, is there anything I can do to make up some points? I cannot fail this course.”

His jaw twitched as he thought over your plea and after a beat, pink lips curled into a slick smile. “We might be able to work something out. Some...extra credit.”

Your hope soared. “Yes, Professor. Thank you. Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything is a dangerous promise, Ms. Y/L/N.” There was a hint of a smirk on his lips and a dash of danger in his eyes.

“I don’t mind dangerous,” you shot back, matching his suggestive tone and running your hand down the strap of your bag slowly.

He turned his face towards the door, then his eyes back up at you. “I bet you don’t.” He waited, unblinking, watching the color rush to your face, the black of your eyes grow.

“Never have, really,” you told him, letting your bag slide off your side and onto the floor. “Danger makes things...exciting, don’t you agree?” Biting your lip, you ran your index fingers across your neckline and downwards, tracing the line of your breasts over your tank top.

“I do.” He sat back again, turning his entire body to you, giving you his undivided attention. “The door is unlocked...there are security cameras...my next class is in twenty minutes.” He paused to watch as your fingers plucked at the hem of your shirt. “Just how excited does that make you?”

The button on your jeans popped easily and you slipped a hand inside them, rubbing it gently across your panties. “Very.”

His eyes were wide as you continued rubbing, shivering as you pulled your panties aside to slide a finger into your wetness.

“It would appear so,” he observed, biting his lip as your face twisted with lust. “Very much.”

You nodded absently and tossed your head back as your body started to tense. “V-very.”

“Ten points towards your final if you can cum in the next thirty seconds.”

Your eyes popped open at his offer, staring down at him as if he were insane. There was no way you could… you could…

He licked his lips slowly, drawing your eyes down to his beautiful mouth. Your hand kept pumping as his tongue swirled around the tips of his teeth, and without realizing it, you reached that sweet spot, your legs lifting up onto your toes, your bottom lip tugged tight between your teeth.

You held your breath.

He whispered your name.

Your cunt clenched down around your fingers and the damn broke.

It was quick and sweet; a little surge of pleasure that flowed through every vein, lifting your mood and clouding your brain. Your clit was throbbing hard as you pulled your hand from your jeans and sucked two fingers between your lips, cleaning them off.

“That was lovely,” Mr. Collins praised. He picked up his pen and jotted something down quickly, paying no attention as you rushed around the side of his desk to his side. “Still need to make up at least thirty points to pass…”

You dropped to your knees and placed your hands on his thighs, spinning his chair towards you. “Perhaps, I can find a few more points...here?” His pants were tight and his zipper gave a little trouble, but you managed.

“I think you might,” he agreed, lifting his hips as you tugged his slacks down. “But, let’s see how you perform first before we promise anything.”

“Oral exams are my specialty,” you smirked, running your palms firmly up his inner thighs.

His cock twitched and your mouth watered. He was big; thick and long laying on his left leg.

He sank back in the chair, stretching out, the tails of his pale pink shirt bright against his hips and ass. “You may begin.”

The taste of him was sublime. Salty and tangy, but fresh. You swallowed around his dick again and again, taking him deeper than you’d ever taken anyone else. The floor crushed into your knees and your jaw began to ache, but you persisted, unwilling to give up the grade or his delicious cock.

The noises he made were incredible. Tiny moans that lingered in the back of his throat, growing louder the harder you sucked. When you cradled his balls, he whimpered as his stomach tensed and you smiled around him, loving the complete abandon of this powerful professor.

His fingers dug into the leather of chair’s arms and he hissed as your teeth scraped at his sensitive flesh.

“That’s…enough, Ms. Y/L/N…”

He sat up as you did, letting his cock drop from your lips with a wet pop. You looked up innocently, wiping a line of drool from your chin, wondering what you’d done wrong.

“Was that...OK?” You batted your lashes and he laughed.

“Oh, that was more than OK,” he said, standing up before you and reaching for your hand. “I just don’t want to ruin that pretty face.”

You stood, hand in his, and he spun you around, pushing you face-down onto the desk. Your breasts smashed against his notebook, palms flat, ass high as he yanked your jeans down.

“I’d rather paint this sweet, young pussy.”

You gasped as his hand slid between your legs, caressing you, clit to ass. He rubbed until your shoulders relaxed, watching as your eyes fell closed as desire flooded your system.

“There’s a good girl,” he teased, moving to stand behind you. “I think this might put you over the failing mark…”

Rough fingers gripped your hips, pulling you back as his cock nudged at your cunt.

“Yes, Mr. Collins, please…”

He rocked forward, warming his erection against your pussy. “Please, what, my dear?”

Your clit throbbed as his head crashed against it. “Please fuck me, Mr. Collins. Please!”

He hummed happily as he pushed inside. “Very well.”

It was strange, the echo of your voices in the big room. The empty gallery gave witness as he fucked you hard and fast against his desk; papers scattering, pencils rolling.

He collapsed over you when it was done, pressing his firm chest into your back and kissing your neck again and again. His breath was hot and staggered as he suckled on your ear.

“I think you pass,” he said with a laugh, finally lifting up.

Pushing up on your arms, your lower back screamed as you shot back. “Oh, ya think?”

“Hey, don’t get snippy with me, Missy.”

You spun and glared. “You got your professor fantasy, Misha...now let’s go before someone actually comes in here.”

He laughed fully, head knocking backward as you pulled your jeans up. “No one’s coming in,” he assured you, moving forward to wrap you in his arms. “They’re not filming in here until Thursday.”

“Baby?” you cooed, sliding your hands upwards to cup his stubbled cheeks. “It is Thursday.”

His smile faded quickly and his eyes flashed, wide and worried. “Shit. Let’s get out of here.”

A quick kiss and then he was gone, backing up to pull up his slacks and grab his stuff.

You sighed happily as he scurried, shaking your head at the goof. “Yes, Professor…”

2020 FOREVER TAGS:

@67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @i-love-superhero @imjustadrummer @impala-1979 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#spn fanfic #misha collins x reader #misha x reader #role play #commissioned

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

Dashing through the snow

12 Days of Christmas: Day two

Pairing: Cordelia Chase x fem!reader

Request: Hi! i have loads of Cordy ideas but I dont want to overwhelm you, so imma just send one! could i please have “How can you possibly look good with snow in your hair?” with Female Reader? Could i also have like a lil bit of angst? like they had a fight and Reader like makes it through a snow storm, because of course it snows on the hell mouth, and ends up at Cordy’s door

Requested by: @onehellagaykid

Warning: Some arguing/angst but a fluffy end. Reader is feeling low at the start of the fic.

You sighed, not listening when Cordelia pleaded with you to get out of bed and do something with your day. It broke her heart to see you feeling this way. But you just grumbled and turned over in bed, pulling the bedclothes back up over your head.

You were feeling a little low. You had definitely not caught the holiday spirit. You had been laid off. Just in time for Christmas. You had insisted that you wanted to find your own career, not just some desk job at a PI firm that your girlfriend had sweet-talked the boss into giving you. Cordelia insisted she knew him from where she used to live, that he was more of a friend who would be happy to help her girlfriend out. But you weren’t sure. Her boss (Angel, his name was) gave you the creeps. He was silent, pasty and you wouldn’t be surprised if he grew fangs one day and told you he wanted to drain the blood from your body. Needless to say, you assumed Cordelia and her boss worked for rich men that wanted to catch their twenty-something new partners cheating. Not demon-related-save-the-world-type cases.

You were a little cynical, unfortunately especially so at this time of year. It made it so much worse now you had lost your job. It wasn’t even a good job, which somehow made it sting more that you had been let go.

When Cordelia sees a problem with someone she loves, she tends to overcompensate. And, because of the time of year she had gone overboard with seasonal activities and tasks to make you ‘feel less bored’ around the house. She loved that you had moved in, you were the only person apart from the ghost that she actually liked sharing a home with. Having her girlfriend in her bed every night was bliss. However, ever since December came around she could feel your mood worsening almost by the day.

One morning, she left for work and asked you to make a start on some of the Christmas tasks. Suggesting a long list of ideas to give you something to do. It wasn’t right to her that you were just staying in all the time. She stopped short of just shaking you by the shoulders and telling you to cheer up already.

By the end of the day, Cordelia had fought two vampires whilst her mind being distracted by you the entire time. She was excited and kind of hoping that you could have takeout and enjoy the new decorations you had hopefully put up. You smiled as you heard her put the key in the lock, pleased that she was home. You had got yourself up and dressed a few hours ago, but you had become distracted and you really didn’t want to make paperchains. It was only really fun if you did it together. You had only started to enjoy Christmas again since you had started dating Cordy.

You leaned in to kiss her when she stepped through the door, but she moved slightly, looking at the bare room. She had been really excited and had hoped that you would have surprised her or something. You moved away from where you had tried to kiss her and looked at the ground slightly. The guilt was creeping in a little. It was only a small thing and you would usually at least humour her with the holiday decorations.

“You’re annoyed with me” You sighed as she stepped into the room further to see you hadn’t even made a start.

“It’s not as if you have anything else to do all day!” She said bluntly. This made you look up, your face set.

“I didn’t feel like it” you replied, your voice neutral. The only time you found the decorations fun was when you were with her.

“Yeah, well, you don’t feel like much right now. It’s like someone swapped out my girlfriend for the grinch” She cut in. You hadn’t spoken about the way you had just been doing nothing other than watching crappy daytime tv and trying to figure out why things moved during the day when it was only you inside. You had set up a camcorder but it mysteriously turned itself off instead of revealing the objects seemingly moving themselves. You hadn’t mentioned the way she had been irritating you by suggesting everything under the sun for you to do. And she hadn’t mentioned how much it worried and simultaneously annoyed her that you weren’t doing anything with your life.

“Cor, I just didn’t want to! You can’t just throw your Christmas crafts at me and expect me to suddenly feel better! Why can’t you just leave it!” you finally snapped.

“Fine. Okay! I will. I’ll leave then” she replied coldly.

“No- I didn’t mean that, I-” you put your hand on her shoulder but she swung around quickly at the sensation.

“What, you meant you wanted me to just stop what? Talking?! That’s, like, one of the only things I’m actually good at!” She shouted, the upset visible on her face although she bit back tears. This had been building up for a while between you both. But you hadn’t expected her to grab her coat and walk straight to her boss’ house though. But she did.

You had both cooled off from your agitation after a few hours and you were both now desperately sad. Missing the other. It was leading up to Christmas and you usually planned out little events to do together. You realised you really had been hard to be around lately. Just as Cordelia realised that her constant needling was reminding you about your situation. How you must wish you were doing something but you were struggling to keep up the effort.

She wished you would just take the job at Angel investigations. She would love to have you around more, she always found herself missing you during the day and she knew you would get on so well with the others. They had been so supportive after she came out to them and she knew for a fact that they would be there for you just the same. Plus, it would mean she finally had a way in to explain about demons as well. She just hadn’t found a way to tell you although she really wanted to.

You sat in the lonely room, a light snowfall had started but you didn’t pay attention. Nothing to look forward to now you didn’t expect her to come back any time soon. You were on the verge of tears as you scanned over the room. The full box of crafts and paper she had cut out herself for you to use. She was so thoughtful and what did you do for her? As you continued to scan the room, something caught your eye. The angel Cordelia had kept with her and put on the top of the tree every year. The last two years you used to wait for the weekend before Christmas day for you to spend the weekend and finish decorating together. She always put the angel up there with you.

Somehow as you were watching the flashbacks of your Christmas pasts with Cordy, it had started to snow heavily. The snowstorm was getting worse and worse, almost as if it were linked with your own mood.

You felt stupid. You missed her desperately. This wasn’t right, you were in love. And it was Christmas. You should have just made the paperchains. She works hard and you hadn’t even bothered to thank her for trying so hard to cheer you up. You had just snapped rather than explained that her repeating herself so often wasn’t helping.

You got up suddenly, zipping up your coat and grabbing the angel. You took a deep breath and ventured outside. You braved the elements and made your way with purpose through the streets. You skidded through the different roads trying to remember the way to the offices. You could barely see several steps in front of you. But still, you kept walking. Until your feet felt numb. The snow whipped around you as you trudged cautiously trying not to take a wrong step that would land you unceremoniously on your ass.

She was too important to you. Giving her this angel, in case she didn’t come back before Christmas, was something that seemed more important than breathing. Than being warm. You knew this meant a lot to her and you didn’t want her to be without it.

When you finally got to the office, you hesitated. Your fist hovering against the door. You really didn’t want Angel to come to the door. Even his Christmas decorations looked as if they had come from the 1800s. Eventually you just bit the bullet and knocked. You were numb from the cold now and almost completely wet through.

“Y/n? Did you walk here?”

“I… didn’t want you to have Christmas without this. She’s your favourite” You explained, taking the little angel out of your pocket to give to her. You were just now realising how ridiculous that sounded. You had walked all that way in a freak, probably curse-related snowstorm to give her an ornament she probably would have come to pick up if she was staying away longer. She knew that this was your apology and you could tell by her reaction that she was touched. She clutched the angel in one hand and reached for you with the other.

“How can you possibly look good with snow in your hair?” she said softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You smiled at the ground at her compliment, it always meant more to when a compliment came from her lips.

“I’m sorry, I know you were only trying to help. But I just don’t think it’s a quick fix” You offered and she nodded thoughtfully.

“Me too” She replied softly. She wished she hadn’t snapped as soon as she did. She ushered you inside grabbing blankets and wrapped you up in them.

As you warmed up, you nestled into her. You told her that you would take the job at Angel investigations if it was still open. That you just wanted to spend as much time together as you could. As well as being able to afford your half of the rent too. And as if he could hear through walls, Cordelia’s boss knocked on the door and confirmed that you were welcome on the team so long as Cordy handles your training. He nodded at you. You shivered, and not from the cold, some leftover predator-prey instinct as he squinted at you and ducked back out again.

It was now Christmas eve and you were back in your shared home with your sweet girlfriend. Back where you both belonged. Your Christmas present that year, along with the other gift Cordy got carried away and bought you, was that you were informed that demons and vampires exist. The only upside was that you were right all along about Angel. When you told Cordy this she burst out laughing and hugged you into her on the sofa you were both sat on. The fire was on and the tree was now fully decorated complete with the angel on the top that Cordy had had since she was a baby.

You didn’t care about the stupid arguments, the squabbling anymore. You just wanted to be with each other over the holidays. She took your hand and circled her fingers softly in your palm before taking your hand properly. She then kissed the back of your hand tenderly as she smiled, gazing into your eyes as she did. You exchanged your love for each other, this moment only sweeter now you had aired your differences and made up. You cuddled into her, wrapping your free arm around her and settling against her. You left two soft kisses against her forehead before your eyes both moved towards the tv. You watched her favourite Christmas film and wished silently that moments like this would never end.

You were happy when you had her by your side again and you had hope for the new year now. Your new job did sound like something you would enjoy. And you knew you would be happy so long as you were by her side. She was your light. Your happiness. You had no room for cynicism in a moment like this. It was too perfect. She was too perfect.

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