So I Was Thinking .....

so i was thinking .....

a horror au over Gotham. everything has *literally* gone to shit. like being so serious. all of Bruce's biggest and ugliest fears somehow come to real life- blame it on Constantine- and he and you are stuck in the Manor; but it's not *your* manor. no, it's the manor a grief-stricken, ten-year-old. the one Bruce lived in after the murder of his parents. he's never admitted it to you, but he's always been unnerved by the vastness of the manor. it only got better when you came, and then Dick and Jason and so on. but now? it's like he's ten again.

and that's without mentioning the abominations inside.

anyways ill go make myself useful and write a fic about this 🚶‍♂️

What Normal People Do - 3

You've been, frankly, having a shit day. Your boyfriend (whom you don't even like that much) breaking up with you was your final straw. Then two very attractive young men and their service dog walk into your life and can't seem to leave. bit of a rushed chapter- not as finely tuned as i would like it to be. the reader kinda took me by the ear and wrote this chapter themselves, lol ao3! ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

Lately, I've Been Crying Like A Tall Child

You have, frankly, been having a pretty shit day. Firstly you had three difficult patients back to back with varying degrees of Bitching Mothers™️ that insisted on you throwing safety to the wind for a small payout. You heard a lot of:

“No, can we skip that vaccine? I heard from my nail girl that they have red dye 40 in them,” one had said, her springy six-year-old doodling with the crayons and colouring books provided. You feel your jaw tick as you put on your best customer service smile.

“No ma’am, we can’t because the diphtheria vaccine is meant to help her. She’s at risk right now of getting it. She could die, ma'am.” You say. She frowned, a little convinced, but still stubborn.

“I don’t know if I want red dye in her bloodstream-“

“There’s no red dye 40 in any vaccine she'll ever get.” You grit out. “Ma’am.” She sighed as if she was being forced, but she nodded her head anyway.

“Well, I’m trusting you here.” She said, dramatically sighing.

Another was upset you had given her son a purple band-aid after his vaccine. The last openly talked about her tween daughter’s problems- ‘blightin’ useless, she is, scored dead last in her class- surely there’s something you can do to her, lovie?’- she had said while the said tween sat, mortified, on the table after you had told her through gritted teeth that that wasn’t related at all to your job.

After all of that, you were done with your job. Like, ‘I’m going to punch my next patient kind of done’.

You make it through the last bits of your shift with no more rude and/or stupid patients and without assaulting anyone. You make it to your car before texting the one person you trusted to not overwhelm you in your fragile state ; your friend from uni, Emma.

                                                                                                                        Today 2:28 PM

                                                                                                                   - can we hang? please? abt to commit second degree murder

     - always, babes 😘

     - St. James’ Park

                                                                                                                                                       -   give me an hour

And that’s how you found yourself in a strawberry festival with Em, laughing at her as she tried to throw strawberry-shaped bean bags into strawberry-shaped corn holes while wearing a strawberry-shaped hat that was frankly ridiculous. Actually, this entire thing was ridiculous . Perfectly so because you could barely remember why you had been murderous earlier.

When you’ve both got strawberry scones and are walking to your next destination- a strawberry jewellery stall, at her insistence- two very hot, very large men with a dog pass by you. One of them is wearing a black surgical mask that does nothing to hide how pretty his deep brown eyes are, framed with pale blond eyelashes that almost blend into his porcelain-pale skin that’s marred by multiple scars. The other one, who was shorter than the blond but still tall in his own right, had bright blue eyes, a friendly smile and short, spiky brown hair cut in a mohawk. The German shepherd trotting along with them has a harness that reads ‘SERVICE DOG - DO NOT DISTURB’. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Em whispering in your ear:

“Hunks galore.”

“More like a one-way ticket to pound town.” You whisper back. Em smacks your arm and then you cackle together because the two hunks are surprisingly very fast walkers and have already left you in the dust.

Maybe an hour later, Em gets a text from her girlfriend.

“My maiden!” Em exclaims as she looks down at her phone while chatting with you about nothing over strawberry tea cakes.  “Her car broke down!” Em says. “Oh, I’m sorry babe, I’ve gotta dash. I’ll see you later, mmkay?” She kisses your cheek and then she’s off.

Thinking of Em’s girlfriend reminds you of your significantly worse love life. You have a boyfriend right now, but it isn’t like you’re head over heels or anything. He’s nice but a little boring- admittedly, you’ve dated worse. Maybe that’s why you’ve stayed for half a year.

You decide to wander around the fair for a little longer, needing some extra cheer to make it through the work week and you more or less get pulled into getting your hand read by an elderly woman in a strawberry dress unwittingly. She’s small, definitely shorter than you, but her eyes are wise and her smile is knowing.

“Come, sit,” she frets, pulling out a wooden chair for you. So you do. Then she demands you give her your hands. So you do. She puts on reading glasses while she hunches over your outstretched palm, peering down at the fine lines. She makes a contemplative noise before tracing a wrinkle. “Misery soon,” she observes. “Oh, dear, within the hour.” She stares down some more. “It’ll be repaid tenfold with good karma, don’t worry your pretty heart.” Her face brightens. “Oh-ho, companionship! Soon! Oh- my, very good friends.” She says, gaping for a moment at your hand. “Hmm. Maybe some bumps on the road but that’s to be expected. It’ll be worth it, dear.” She pats your hand with one of her old, withered ones, slipping a strawberry bonbon into your hold with a wink. “Now shoo!” 

You leave feeling a little confused. Just an old lady with a complex, you rationalise. And just as you’re finishing up making your last rounds, passing by stalls, your phone rings with a text. So you pull over and read the text from your boyfriend.

                                                                                                                             Today 6:52 PM

     -  hey

                                                                                                                                                                                                        - hi babe

     - i need 2 tell u smth

                                                                                                                                                                                                        - okay?

     - i wanna break up

     - idk i feel like things hv gotten stale

     - u dont mind right

     -u can come get ur stuff 

So surely it’s no surprise to anyone when you turn into an alleyway, slump against a concrete wall and start ugly crying while staring down at your phone. While admittedly you weren’t that upset about being broken up with, you were upset about so suddenly moving out. Going out onto the housing market, so soon and so late in the day, no less, was sending you down a panic-induced spiral.

Then there is a large, comforting weight on your lap, like someone had covered you with a weighted blanket. You open your eyes a little, tears still falling, and you see a German shepherd on your lap, nudging your elbow with its muzzle. Then you see the service dog harness and remember the dog as the one that had been side by side with the hunks that passed you and Em. You gawk for a moment before determinedly trying to stop your tears; if the dog is here, surely the very hot, otherworldly hot owners are nearby. You’d hate for them to see you snivelling.

You focus on the big, fluffy body on you and, damn, whatever the hell the dog’s doing is working because you no longer feel like the world is ending. You just need a new apartment. Worse has happened.

Once you take some deep breaths, you immediately see one of the hunks standing there. Just… watching. You panic, because you can’t fully read his expression from under his mask, and surely he must be mad that his service dog had pounced on you. You try to convince the dog to move but it’s having none of it.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, your dog sort of- um, trapped me here, I didn’t mean to-“

“No.” The hunk says (he’s hotter up close). He’s gruff and big and truth be told he does not seem like the kind of person you wouldn't want to argue with, so you stay quiet. “She wanted to help you. ‘S fine.” He says.

“Um,” you say. “Okay. Are you sure?”

The hunk merely grunts. “Are you okay?” He asks, and perhaps you’re being persuaded by his sheer mass and your new-found single status, but you swear his voice has softened a little, to not spook you more.

“Oh, um. Yeah.” You say, internally wincing at your overuse of ‘oh’.

The hunk stares down at you for a long while. Did you do something wrong? Shit. Maybe he does really mind. You shift underneath his dog awkwardly and feel the urge to explain yourself.

“I just, um- I have an, um. A thing.” You say quietly. It’s not an entire lie- yeah, you were half-convinced you had a ‘thing’ from Em’s insistence that ‘you’re not okay, babe!’ multiple times over. You can’t help the guilt of telling a lie when you weren’t diagnosed with anything, however.

“Are you okay?” He asks. Again. “Riley doesn’t start DPT on total strangers for no reason.” He sounds dry, but… insistent. Somehow. It leaves you with no way to squeeze out a lie. His pretty eyes stare two dead holes into yours, and you’re sure you’re gonna get vaporized, Terminator style. Unease creeps into your gut.

“No, I’m OK. Just… got a little upset.” You say weakly, forcing out your best smile. You’re proud that you don’t grimace instead. He just keeps on staring at you, showing no inclination of answering. Then, just as you’re about to force the dog off, the other hunk- an Amazon gladiator, holy hells- walks in, excitement in his eyes.

“Si, ‘ave found a strawberry sex stall-!“ He says, but then he notices you and his expression goes into something you can’t read.

“Well, hello, there.” He says. You surely must look like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hello,” you squeak out, because not one but two superhumanly hot men are paying you attention. You gently push the dog off of you, mumbling a ‘bye’ before you scurry away and straight to your car. You don’t look back.

——

The next morning, you’ve just packed up your every belonging from your ex-boyfriend’s flat- he didn’t even bother to help- and rented out a storage cube, packed in everything single-handedly, and then got the best sleep of your life in a hotel. You had woken up and then gone to a coffee shop because your entire day would be filled with hunting down an affordable place to rent. You had Em help you fill out a few applications while you were driving from the ex’s flat to the storage cube to the flat and then storage again .

You’re reading through an email one of the landlords of one of the nicer apartments sent you this morning as you walk inside, give the barista your order and pay. Your reading quickly becomes scanning- you got the place!- for payments to make, forms to fill, people to contact, etc. But you’re stoked! This new apartment is better than the ex’s, and the one you had before him, so you really can’t help yourself from smiling like a dork.

“Seems like ye’ve got a love-hate relationship wif’ that thing.” A masculine and not too unfamiliar voice says from your right.

You startle, almost ready to throw hands, and then remember that the voice is familiar. You stare at him- shit, it’s the Amazon from yesterday. Everything had been so chaotic you had forgotten about that embarrassing encounter with the hunks, but you had no such luck. It’s fine. He doesn’t seem too disgusted with you. 

“Oh! No, um. I got broken up with yesterday.” You say, reading his expression to see if there’s any hatred there , that you accidentally made his service dog sniff you out and take him away from his boyfriend. “Had to move out and find a new place on short notice.”

“And ye got the place?” He says, pretty blue eyes soft and inviting. It’s like he cares.

“Yes. It’s really lovely . Rent’s maybe a bit much but I’m sure I can budget it… It’s such a great stroke of luck that I’ve found it under 24 hours.” Ouch. Overshare. You cringe inwardly.

The Amazon nods.

“O’ course. ‘M glad fer ye.” Hot and nice. If he wasn’t a taken man….

“Thank you.” You say, smiling shyly. He smiles- big and bright and genuine.

“Och, no need tae thank me.”

Your brow furrows and you’re about to explain how your thanks are very much deserved- you should be thanking him for breathing the same air as you, much less hold a conversation with you- and then the barista calls out a poor butchering of your name and you leave because you’ve got some new-apartment paperwork to do.

It’s only halfway through scanning PDFs that you realise you hadn’t even gotten his number.

——

You’re going grocery shopping because it’s been three days and you’re frankly getting sick of takeout. You had written a list and you were considering if you needed apples when, for the second time this week, a masculine voice shocks you out of your train of thought.

“Well, lookit tha’!” The Amazon exclaims (you haven’t even gotten his name). You look up from your pondering. He smiles the way he had at the cafe; big and bright, and he claps your shoulder with his big hand.

“How’s the new flat?” He asks.

“Oh, it’s better than the photos,” you say. Just thinking about how pretty the flat was during your tour yesterday was enough to make you smile again.

“‘M glad, bonnie.” He says.

“Bonnie?” You ask, confused. Did he think that was your name?

“Don’t worry about it! How about this weather?” The Amazon says loudly , making you blink.

You chat with Johnny in the produce section about whatever comes to mind, and then at some point the Amazon- Johnny, as he introduces himself- shifts your focus from the groceries and he ushers you to a new cafe right next to the grocery store. You buy your drink and find a booth and you spend at least two hours talking with Johnny. At some point, you had to leave because you truly did have other things to do, no matter how nice the conversation was.

——

The next day, you’ve gotten your keys and are moving your boxes into your new flat. The neighbours seem quiet, you think, as you heft a box of plates into the apartment.

It’s been about half an hour before you get all the boxes inside and start fiddling with some deadbolts you’d bought on Amazon, just in case.

"Need help?" A voice asks, materialising behind you and spooking the living hell out of you. You then recognize him as the blond hunk- Johnny’s boyfriend, Simon. He’s staring- waiting for an answer, shit.

"No, I'm okay. Um, thank you, though." You say, still feeling remnant fear from his sudden appearance.

"Did you just move in?" He asks. Blunt, you think. The dog from earlier is there, too, tail wagging.

“Yes.” You hesitate- no way you have enough luck in this world to bag a beautiful apartment and beautiful neighbours. You decide you just have to know. “Do you… live here?” You ask.

Simon grunts. “We’re the flat over.”

“Oh!” You smile. “Well. Thank you for offering to help, neighbour.” You say, cringing a little- 'neighbour'? really?- but you put on a smile that must coax a smile from Simon from underneath his face mask. Then he says bye and you’re quick to reciprocate while the dog trots over to butt its head against your leg, and then they go into the flat over, just like Simon said.

——

The next morning, Johnny and Simon, your new, beautiful neighbours, are at your door at ten. Thankfully, it’s your day off, otherwise, they’d be knocking in an empty apartment.

When you open your door after the second knock, Johnny is standing in front of Simon outside your front door, holding a platter full of blueberry muffins and a still-tired Simon hovering behind him- almost protectively, you think. You probably don’t look the best as your plans today were to rot in bed.

“Hello, you two.” You say, trying to subtly fix your appearance while smiling .

“Hi! Ae made ye muffins. Tae help settle ‘ta the new flat.” Johnny says proudly.

“Wow, thank you. You didn’t have to. Here, come inside- I’m sorry, it’s a mess,” you apologise, inwardly panicking. After you’d gotten all the boxes in, you hadn’t even considered unpacking anything but the essentials yet. And you’d gone digging for certain things, leaving a few boxes open with stuff falling out.

“You got here last night?” Simon asks gruffly while you direct Johnny to set the muffins on your kitchen island.

“Can I make you some tea?” You ask, scrambling for your manners- God, it’d been a while since you last had new people over. You start looking for your kettle.

They start a conversation with you about the weather as you look for mugs and tea bags.

“Sorry, no sugar. Or creamer.” You apologise, making up for it with more tea than normal in their mugs.

Then you talk about leasing dates, the landlord, the best parking areas, the cheapest takeouts, and things to do around.

They manage to get you in their apartment once you become immersed in the conversation enough, just picking back up where you left off on their rather comfy couch. Johnny is more talkative than Simon is, but that’s not to say that Simon is a hulking statue (though that’d be hot, too). He grunts when appropriate, asks you questions, rags on Johnny and seems genuinely interested in the comings and goings of your life.

By the time you leave, it’s half past five and you have a full feeling from companionship. —— You come to realise that Simon and Johnny are the sort of friends you can rely on. You were putting your brand new bed frame up when you realised you didn't have a single screwdriver, so you had tucked your tail and asked the boys if they had one- and to your surprise (and delight) Simon came right over with a toolbox and made the entire frame without being asked to. He even put the mattress atop your new frame. He was just about to fix the hinges on your door before you had to stop him and make him lunch before he remade the entire flat. "Really, you didn't have to do that, Simon," you fret while putting a sandwich together for him while he stares at you, toolbox sitting on the kitchen island. "Sure I did." He says. It's like in their mind they've made up that they have to take care of you- like earlier this week. You'd just gotten home from work and decided to get groceries while you were out and about- you needed milk, anyways. But between the shopping bags and your work bag, your arms were a little overloaded. You didn't want to go through two trips, either, which resulted in you holding five bags and fumbling around for your keys. It was inevitable, really, that your work bag would slip and fall.  You had groaned and just began to bend your knees before you here an 'och, le'me!' from behind you. Johnny is there, taking your work bag and then three of the remaining bags from your arms. "Johnny, it's-" "Nae, I dinnae hear it. Open your door, bonnie." He seems intent on calling you that, too. Even though he knows your name. You'll have to ask about it soon. You just sigh and unlock your door before putting one of the grocery bags down, Johnny following suit.  "Thank you." "Nae sweat o' ma back." He says with a boyish grin before leaving and closing the door behind you. The attention is nice, really. It feels good to be so close to some people you could trust.

my gf

hi!!! i'm vivi and i use any/all pronouns :) ao3 pinterest (has all photo media i use in case you're curious) writing tag masterlist

i am a minor. i do my best to block and not interact with 18+ blogs. i'm also autistic- i struggle sometimes with communication over a screen. choppy, off-putting messages are usually because of that. sorry in advance :) i do not permit the use of my writing being put into an ai generator or a chatbot or anything of that nature. i do not permit the use of my writing being posted under any name other than my own. i try my best to put content warnings on my works when applicable, but you are still responsible for what you interact with.

bruce wayne/reader drabble

i was bored during a road trip and wrote this in notepad. it's not finished and not proofread 😊 i might work on it later, maybe won't.

Batman had never given you anything other than a blank stare or glare, depending on what time it was and what part of 31st Street you were on and whether or not he had saw you eat breakfast that morning. Today was a blank glare sort of day. You’d just gotten off your shift at the hospital, too tired to pay attention to the dark, shadowy streets of Gotham while you walked to the parking lot because these damn New England streets and their limited parking space never felt benevolent enough to give you a spot within a half a mile radius of the hospital. Then the shadows step out from the alleyway, and you manage a half-assed grunt of acknowledgement instead of the scream you let out the first time he walked you to your car. In his defense, though, he had told you that day what would be waiting for you that night. …In yours, you’d been half asleep and he was really warm and all you wanted was some quality time with your husband before he inevitably got up and started the day. You'd been curled up to him as you usually were in the morning, before either of you had to be up and about. He'd just come home from patrol, those blue eyes of his rubbed clean of the eye makeup the Batman demanded. The sun had been up for a while and it came in through the windows of your shared room, finally annoying you enough to make you turn over and seek shelter in Bruce's side of the bed. He had been awake for a while- he didn't need to be out till two, the lucky thing. He rubbed your hair, earning a sleepy sound of affection from you and a smile from him. "Love," he says, his voice deep and hoarse from sleep but also that stupid, husky Batman voice. It's enough to make you stir, blinking at him sleepily. "I'm going to walk you home from work tonight." He says quietly, massaging your skull- and honestly, how could he expect you to stay awake when those big, warm hands of his were so attentive and gentle? He chuckled when he saw your eyes drooping again, resigning. "Go back to sleep, lovey." He murmurs, tucking you close to his chest. You really didn't have much in you to disobey. So truly, it wasn't anyone's fault but Bruce's that you'd hollered when he came out of nowhere and stared. He very nearly broke character then- you swear you saw a laugh in his eyes, or saw a gloved hand twitch in your direction.

Since then, he's been walking you to your car and invisibly shadowing you- literally- on your drive home. You've grown to be fond of these little walks. Usually, you'd only ever see him in the morning and when he got home from patrol. Though it wasn't a Sunday morning together, a couple minutes to be in each other's presence was calming. You'd never admit it to him, but you've started to purposefully park further and further away from the hospital, just for a few more moments with your husband. You wished that he'd hug you, hold your hand, at the very least say something- but you weren't about to complain. You knew the lengths he went to, for you and Gotham. It was best to keep your mouth shut and be apperciative. You tucked your water bottle underneath your arm as you unlocked your car and got into the car without so much as a goodbye from Bruce. You know he'd properly talk to you once he got him in- you checked the clock in your car- three hours. You started the car up and looked out the window, expecting Bruce to maybe be lingering there, but he already slipped back into the shadows. You sighed silently before starting the drive back to Wayne Manor. Just two more weeks of this, you told yourself. You and Bruce had been married for six months, and you'd be leaving your job in two weeks because, well, the whole 'being married to a billonaire' thing made going to work useless. Thank the gods. It was burning you out at a rapid pace- a domestic life with Bruce was what had kept you going for a while.

You pulled into the parking lot of Wayne Manor, saying hello to Alfred before retiring to the master bedroom. Three hours to kill before you went downstairs to greet Bruce as he got off patrol. You took a hot bath, changed into something more cozy than your scrubs, and curled on your bed and watched your favorite show while waiting for the tell-tale sound of the Batmobile pulling in. You had almost dozed off when you heard the signature rumble of the engine downstairs. With a yawn, you shuffled into your house slippers and slipped through a secret passageway in Bruce's study to the Batcave. You heard chatter downstairs- Dick and the others came for an after-patrol visit, most likely. "Brucie," you said with a yawn, your vison blurred with sleep as you rubbed it away, going down the stairwell. "How was patrol?" You finally take in your surroundings, which makes you promptly freeze on the stairs. There stood the Justice League in all their shiny glory. They looked out of place in Bruce's Broodcave, too shiny and bright for the gloom down in the cave. It made you blink a few times, made you wonder if maybe you were asleep. But no. Green Lantern is the first to break, with an astounded gasp. "You have a partner?!" He all but shouts, his voice echoing around the cave. "Yes." Bruce says gruffly. You pause on the staircase, unsure of what to do, looking to Bruce for any sort of help, but his gaze is trained on his team members. "Why didn't you tell us?" Superman says. He almost sounds hurt. "It didn't seem relevant." Your husband says. Wonder Woman is the first to try to right things. "It's great to meet you," she says kindly, giving you a smile. You return the smile, albeit a little nervously. "You, too." You says, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. Then you share the smile to the rest of the Justice League, wanting at the very least to stay friendly, even if you'd rather hide behind Bruce and go back to your normal nightly routine. "Well… I'll be upstairs, honey." You say finally, going back up the staircase and back into Bruce's study, waiting for him in your bedroom, picking apart every part of the interaction in your mind quietly as you settle under the sheets. It's at least half an hour until Bruce comes into your bedroom, changed out of the Batsuit and into something a lot softer. He climbs into his side of the bed, crawling next to you and kissing your face. "They liked you." He murmurs. "Did they?" You whisper back, unbelieving. "Yeah. They thought you were sweet. They were pissed at me for not telling them I was married, though." He says, cupping your hips in his hands as he rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you with those big eyes of his, black makeup still smudged around his eyes. "Yeah?" You hummed, running your hands through his floppy hair. "Go wash off the night, soldier." You tell him. "Yes, sir," he murmurs, pulling himself off of you, albeit a little reluctantly, and padding over to the bathroom. He comes back with his eyes clean and his hair wetted, the grease he uses to keep it in the cowl washed clean. He settles back on top of you, nesting his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a kiss there, his arms tucking underneath you and holding onto your waist. You hum happily and brush his hair from out of his eyes, twirling it around your fingers and watching it flop back into place.

15

little Loki drabble I wrote when I was still hyper fixated like, a year ago

883 words

pairing: Loki/gn!reader

pre-established relationship, no background characters, cute fluff and a little Princess Diaries insprired.

It was a fine summer afternoon in the middle of New York, and you and your fiancé, Loki, were out on a date in the middle of nowhere. 

Or, well, the middle of nowhere to anyone that wasn’t the both of you, anyone outside your private bubble. You had found this haven while walking home from work one day, completely on accident. You had been a little late to home that little and nearly drove Loki up a wall, but to make up for it you showed it to him soon after. It’s where you had your first kiss together, you recall as you set out the picnic blanket. 

The spot in question was a little piece of green land overlooking a beautiful, unpolluted stream- truly, a rarity this close to the city. Loki had even caught some fish in it during the spring and shown you how to gut and cook a fish properly. It was nicely shaded from the nearby forest, and it was a welcome change from the summer heat.

As you finished setting up the picnic underneath the biggest tree you could find, Loki began unpacking the food he’d made the night before. You sat down and watched the stream, watching the way the water flowed, almost hypnotised by the way that each droplet of water knew just where to go….

“My love?”

Loki tapped your shoulder gently and you very nearly jumped out of your skin, taken out of your peaceful trance.

“I’ve finished setting up, if you’re still awake,” he said with that casual teasing of his while walking away, hips strutting. You scoffed and contemplated tackling him to the ground- his stomach would hit the grass and he’d shriek about grass stains for an hour or two and then force you to hand wash his 100% cotton, 100% vegan shirt from a farmer’s market from the Amish in Asswhere, Nebraska- before deciding to follow closely behind, your hand brushing lightly over Loki’s. 

You sat down opposite each other, with the food in between the two of your. Loki had set out platters of fruit, sandwiches, cookies and all sorts of tea cakes, and a set of freshly baked muffins- the smells combined made your mouth water. Loki had a warm smile on his face as he looked at you, seeming very happy and content with the look of amazement on his partner’s face.

“You.. made all of this? By yourself? In just one night?” You asked in disbelief and awe.

Loki laughed at how surprised you seemed. Maybe if your expression had been a little less innocent-seeming, he’d pout and whine loudly about how you doubted him. No, he decided to be the adult here.

“Yes, I did.”

“Are you sure? Like, *sure* sure? No magic or anything?” You ask, your eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

“No, I didn’t. Now, are you going to sit here and debate the legitimacy of the food or are you actually going to *eat*?”

“Of course I’m going to eat! All of this looks so good… I don’t think I’d really mind if it was all magic.”

Loki chuckled and shook his head, amused. With all the fuss you made, one would imagine you’d resist more to eating probably magicked-up food. He watched you as you took the first bite of one of the tiny tea cakes, anxious for your feedback. He’d spent all of last night when you fell asleep baking and frosting teeny little cakes and cookies. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw your face melt almost immediately.

“I know it’s rude to speak with your mouth full- but- this is *so good*….” Your voice was muffled from the food but there was sentiment and genuine reverence in your voice, he thought joyously, and he watched as you proceeded to devour the rest of your tea cake. Loki smiled to himself before joining you and eating with you.

Half an hour later, you had both finished off the entirety of the picnic. It was sunset now, and you were packing up to go a little deeper into the stream before going back home. You talked quietly about nothing as you got everything ready to go, leaving Loki with the picnic basket as you walked down to the stream. You simply stood there for a moment, admiring the way the lowering sun coloured the water, looking for tadpoles and minnows in the water. To no avail- but you did find a frog on a tree, and Henry the Soul Crusher seemed an appropriate name (Loki found it fairly amusing- how could such a small creature *crush souls*?).

He sat down underneath a shaded tree while you went into the stream and splashed around, and he warmed you up with their magic when you emerged and shivered from the cold water. The night ended with the both of them on the grass, underneath the picnic blanket, Loki curled protectively around you, the both of you passed out cold.