#I think a new wish is alright! I find it a little boring at times and some side characters annoy me

[nyenyel]

Just started watching the show with my sister, we're only 3 episodes in but I like Hazel! I think it's pretty neat so far :>

[oswildin]

Something New (Loki x GN!Reader)

Summary: You have known each other since you were children on Asgard, you’ve been there through everything… And now you’re stranded on a junk planet with the man you believed to be dead for four years… It was time for a honest chat.

A/N: Set during ‘Thor Ragnarok’, no descriptors or use of ‘Y/N’.

“Silent treatment, is it? How juvenile. And a little boring.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, irritation flashing through your features at Loki’s - deliberately - vexing comment. Shaking your head, you stayed looking out the large window of the quarters you and Loki had been forced to share, especially after he had told the Grandmaster you two were married.

“Ah, I see, you’re in the honeymoon phase. Well, we are very progressive here on Sakaar.” The Grandmaster had mused. “We have husbands, wives, consorts, throuples and in-betweens. I can give you a leaflet if you like-“ To which quickly you had held up a hand, shaking your head, overwhelmed by the junk planet you’d ended up on, let alone the intricacies of their… escapades. No, you were much more focused on finding a way off of the planet and to Asgard to stop Hela, and then back to Midgard to live your life in peace.

It had been a few days since Loki and Thor had appeared on Midgard before your eyes, the shock and disbelief you felt still fresh in your mind at the sight of Loki - alive. And finding out he had faked his death for Asgard’s throne… Well, that was just the cherry on top. You forgave him for trying to destroy Jotunheim, you tried to forgive him for attacking New York… Fighting side by side against the Dark Elves had felt right… And then, he was gone. Dead, you thought.

“You seriously think you can go god-knows how long without speaking to me?” Loki inquired, raising a curious brow. “Whether you like it or not, we are in this together.” He nodded to himself. “And I, for one, am not about to let the opportunity to gain the Grandmasters favour, get close and perhaps take his place, slip me by.”

“Oh my god-“ You whirl around, finally facing him as your brows crease. “Are you serious?” You snap, a beat of silence filling the air between you. When you see him furrow his brows in a look that said ‘well, yes’, you couldn’t help but let a tired laugh escape your lips, head falling back slightly as your gaze flickered to the ceiling.

“I fail to see how that is funny-“ Loki huffed, tilting his head faintly.

“No, you’re right-“ You sigh, shaking your head, gaze fixed upon him once more. “It isn’t funny. No, in fact-“ You take a step closer. “It’s hilarious.” Loki blinked, irritation creeping up on him now at your mocking words. “Because, of course, Asgard was simply just… not enough?” You raise a brow. “Having Odin sent to Midgard, his death leading to the unleashing of the Goddess of Death who is now set on ruling Asgard and possibly destroying anyone or anything in her way… Was… not enough.”

Loki averted his eyes, looking down as his jaw twitched, your words hitting him with the harsh reality that his actions had consequences.

“And instead of doing the right thing and wanting to try and leave this hel, you wish to… stay? Ignore that our home is in danger?” Silence fell between you both, giving you the answer you needed as you let out an exasperated breath. “Right, well then.” You muttered, straightening yourself. “You’ve made yourself clear.” You went to move, going to find your own way off of Sakaar, with or without Loki’s help.

“Wait-“ Loki sighed, reaching out to grasp your wrist, stopping your leave. “Just… wait.” He added, tone slightly softer. You looked up to meet his stare, seeing the uncertainty on his features. “I…” He sighed once again. “I’m sorry.” He finally muttered, eyes quickly flickering to the wall before landing back on you. “Alright?” He slowly let go of your wrist. “I didn’t think.”

“No, you’re right, you didn’t.” You grumbled, folding your arms over your chest, your own eyes moving to stare firmly at the wall behind Loki. Loki could see the tension in your frame, the hurt he had caused by faking his death still clinging to you like an old wound. He clasped his hands into fists at his sides briefly, before letting them fall naturally, letting out a slow breath whilst doing so.

“You can’t be too surprised by that.” Loki tried, tone wry. “Whilst my intelligence may be high, it seems my… ability for considering others emotions is somewhat lacking.” You scoffed at that. “‘Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself’.” Loki mumbled to himself, making you glance at him. He let out a breathy, quick laugh as he shook his head lightly, lips pursing. “Yet it seems my perception can be… also lacking when it comes to those closest.” He added quietly.

You stayed silent, unsure on what to say - on what he wanted you to say. Instead, you sighed, unfolding your arms, moving towards a nearby seat as you felt Loki’s eyes watching your every move. “I’m tired, Loki.” You finally spoke, sitting down, elbows on your knees, hands clasped together. “You’re supposed to be my dearest friend, and yet… it feels as though you are intent on creating distance between us.”

Loki raised his chin faintly, before taking close calculated steps towards you, a slightly awkward aura surrounding him. He wasn’t one to be open with such matters as friendship and emotions. But perhaps… it was time he tried. Tentatively, he took a seat beside you, leaving a respectable distance, knowing he had to earn the right to be close to you again.

The truth was, whilst you may have been dear friends once, over the years it had… changed. Ever since Loki discovered the truth about his heritage, maybe even before that. When he chose to lie to you about the Frost Giants entry into Asgard, he had made his choice. He had chosen self-preservation. Something that in his time ruling Asgard, he realised was… hollow. And you never truly were just a dear friend to him. Nor him to you, even if it was unspoken.

“It was truly never my intention to cause you pain.” Loki spoke lowly, side-glancing at you, trying to gauge your every reaction to his words. “Thor… on the other hand.” He added wryly, raising a brow. “I suppose apart of me… wanted him to feel it. So he understood.” It was spoken as if he was processing it in real time. Your gaze drifted to Loki, eyeing his profile as he spoke. “And when you came to Odin… to me…” He corrected before pausing. “And asked to return to Midgard, to live your life among the mortals I once sought to rule…” He let out a quiet breath. “I could do nothing but allow it. Knowing the hurt I had caused, the rift I had created…”

Loki’s words hung in the air, a subtle tension hanging with them as you bit your lower lip lightly, unclasping your hands to sit up straight, keeping them resting on your knees. “Midgard…” You began softly. “The time I spent there after New York, aiding them rebuild their city… It gave me purpose.” You turned your head to look at him properly. “Odin had forbidden me from seeing you in your cell, Thor was with Jane and I…” You sighed. “I just wanted to do something… good.”

Loki listened intently, his expression neutral, if not slightly more tender than his usual look of indifference. He waited for you to continue, not wanting to interrupt. “And then after… thinking you were dead on Svartalfheim…” You shook your head. “I just… couldn’t bear being home.”

Loki felt a pang in his usually guarded heart at those words, his head dipping as he moved a hand to the bridge of his nose. Odin’s words when he sent him away still clung to the corners of his mind.

“You will not see them again, you have done enough damage there.”

In his own way, he thought he was protecting you. Stopping you from being hurt anymore by making you believe he was dead.

“I thought-“ He cleared his throat, lifting his head. “After everything I had done…” He trailed off, not daring to look at you.

“That what?” You blinked, furrowing your brows. “I just… wouldn’t care?” You breathed out, disbelief in your voice. Loki finally then took the risk of glancing at you, seeing the bewildered look on your features. “You think… that after everything, the good and the bad, that I wouldn’t care if you were gone?” Loki stayed quiet, but the look on his face told you all you needed to know. “You’re an idiot.” You huffed, shaking your head, pushing yourself to your feet as Loki blinked at your reaction. “You are… an A-Grade idiot.”

“I see Midgard has also taught you some rather interesting language-“ He quipped wryly, brows furrowing as he stayed seated, a hand moving to a small shrug. You turned round to look at him, hands on your hips.

“Midgard taught me a lot, thank you.” You snapped slightly, letting out a breath as you looked out the window across the room once again. “I could’ve left you to your own designs in New York, let the others handle it, but when Thor told me you were alive, what you were planning, I demanded to go with him.” You looked down at him again, searching his upturned gaze. “When Odin forbid me from seeing you in your cell, sending me to Midgard to clear up your mess, all I could think about was what you were thinking, how you were feeling.” You saw Loki’s brows begin to unknit, a flash of emotion going through his ice blue eyes. “And then when we fought side by side on Svartalfheim, I thought it was a fresh start. Us, fighting side by side…” Your voice wavered faintly, but Loki noticed as he gracefully got to his feet. “To watch you die.” You whispered.

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat, taking a tentative step closer, one hand slightly outstretched, as if he was approaching a startled animal. “To find out, you were alive for four years. Four years, Loki.” Your voice raised slightly, anger surfacing. “And even now, you are plotting and scheming. It never ends, does it?”

Loki’s eyelids fluttered briefly, face lowering to look down at his leather boots as he tried to think of what to say - what you would want him to say. “What can I say? I’m an opportunist.” He finally spoke, words quiet. Usually, those words would’ve been laced with wry humour, but instead they were almost honest sounding. He lifted his face, eyes flickering to your hands on your hips as he took a leap of chance, reaching for one of your hands. He was surprised when you didn’t snatch your hand away, but didn’t let it show.

“You…” He breathed out. “Are… a defender. Just like you always wanted to be.” He spoke softly. “I am… proud…” The words felt slightly foreign on his tongue, such open sentiment. “-of how far you have come.” His words were almost a whisper, as your own gaze threaten to soften. “And I… am still searching.” He gave a brief, solemn smile. “Searching for what I want to be.” He paused. “I do what I do because… it’s what I know how… to do.” His eyes searched yours, as if you had the answer, but knowing that ultimately, it was he who needed to work it out. “I don’t enjoy hurting people. I do it… because I have to, because I’ve had to.”

Your gaze finally softened, shoulders relaxing slightly as you took in his admission. You always knew that the Loki he portrayed to most was a mask, a defence mechanism… Yes, he was mischievous and cunning, but he was also multifaceted. You had seen it yourself. He was capable of so much more than the hollow quest he strived for.

“I know.” You whispered, squeezing his hand lightly. “But going round in circles, it’s never going to give you what you’re searching for. You can’t… discover if you don’t do something new.” You continued lowly, raising a brow. “Maybe, whatever you’re truly searching for isn’t a throne, or to rule or whatever else that falls under that umbrella, but maybe what you’re really looking for is-“

But before you could finish your thought, Loki’s lips had pressed to yours. You froze for a moment, taken back, before feeling yourself relax, his hand gently squeezing yours as his free one came to gently cup your cheek. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss - a kiss you had been waiting centuries for. His kiss was as tender as it was passionate, reverent even. It was a kiss that took your breath away - at the risk of sounding cliche.

After a moment, you broke apart, Loki pulling back to observe your face, eyes flickering over your features in a questioning way, wondering if he had overstepped, if he had done the right thing by… being vulnerable. When your eyes finally reopened, finding his, the look on his face was a mix of nerves and contentment, a strange contradiction… Very Loki.

“What… what was that for?” You breathed out, still slightly in awe at the way your heart was beating in your chest. Loki blinked, raising his brows.

“Well, you… did say that I couldn’t discover if I didn’t try something new…” He said lowly, tone holding a hint of his usual cheekiness that made your lip twitch, threatening to smile.

“And?” You asked quietly, his hand still in yours, his other still cupping your cheek gently.

“And I…” He cleared his throat. “I- uh- think I rather like this… ‘something new’.” His lips quirked up into a faint smirk, eyes glimmering with hope and care, possibly even excitement. “If you like it as well, of course-“ He added, slightly rushed, a little awkward.

“No, yeah- I mean-“ You nodded, clearing your own throat. “Yeah. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Loki raised a brow, voice breathy.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly, once more squeezing his hand in assurance as Loki let his own lips be tugged into a small, almost bashful smile.

“To something new.”

[logan-lieutenant]

i didn't win the wheel: episode 5

why does this episode make me feel like i'm missing something?

alright, here we go. logan's landed on something here. he's really good at finding something that'll annoy alex, no matter how many times he does it (with the utmost affection from both sides, ofc). but now he's found one particular bit that alex will literally always laugh at. and my favorite part is the williams camera crew genuinely seem to not know. they don't do it in here but as soon as he starts doing the "And The Winner Will Get The Chance" game show host act there's literally scenes where they do like a super-zoom on his face, because he's finally playing to the camera. he's playing by the rules, but he's not doing it for the show– he's doing it because alex will laugh even if he doesn't mean to. which he does, right here. it's like their own little inside joke, something that they can do right in front of the crew and pretend like it's an "everybody" thing when it's not. it's just a them thing. and alex laughs like he can't help it, like it's an instinct he's lived with and won't bother questioning, he's literally leaning his head towards logan as soon as logan starts The Bit and then his far-off expression turns into that helpless try-not-to-laugh smile. and they literally cut him off there. but i wish they hadn't because i love this intro so much– not just because of this new dynamic but because of how they look with each other. alex is fidgety and playful and distractable as always, but it's not because he's bored. he's just genuinely excited to play and can't sit still or make himself focus. and logan isn't teasing him or trying to draw him back to reality or make him participate or force him in anyway; but isn't quite ignoring him either. he's leaning back towards alex, half-turned in like he's trying to play to both the camera and alex even though alex is a million miles away. he's letting alex be in his own hyperactive little world like, "it's okay, i've got the intro, you do your thing" but "wait this is your favorite part" and then he leans back in waayyyy closer and when alex hears the change in his tone of voice he finally looks up and logan calls it "The Williams Racing Wheel" full government name and alex just– yeah every time

okay but can we talk about just how... comfortable they are with each other? it's like the collage episode but also not like that. because yeah they're both super focused on getting the ball in the basket (and then finding the balls when they go all over the deck). and it's a little chaotic so they're not quite as smoothly coordinated (logan has a moment of blatantly considering stealing the ball from alex's hands before he thinks better of it). but they're not just focusing, it's not just logan honed in on getting a task done. they're playing. alex is laughing, making comments, there's a short period where he stops for a bit and then logan steps in listing how many baskets he has and they have these out-of-breath half-exchanges with each other throughout the game... but also logan is SO much more expressive than he usually is. not like last ep when he was in some specific lovestruck mood where his nerves were showing on his face; he's just showing normal expressions for this normal situation. it's not just deadpan dead-eyed focus, he's laughing a little, frowning a little, just generally moving more. he's more in touch with the world around him and the people around him. you'd think this ep and last ep were shot weeks or months apart because it looks so much like alex has been rubbing off on him, even in the way he stands... they're not just silently doing an activity together they're in tune. there's a desire to connect, to stay talking, to narrate the events the other can clearly see for themselves because this is what makes it fun when they're together

nothing much. just alex panicking about the stupid plastic hoop and saying in the most unmanly high-pitched voice ever "put the basket down!!!" even though he's the one closest to the basket, and then he turns and nearly runs straight into logan and logan is just muscle car boyfriend era "i got you babe" with that hand on the side to run forward and shove down the fucking basket while smiling and licking his lips and yeah sure NOTHING MUCH THO

but of course logan can't be too nice about it it's like he's just been reminded that alex exists and now he has to go block his shot from the net and then when he jogs back he's not even looking at alex he's looking down but ends up so close anyway that he's like "i'm just gonna block this one too" (not really) and then they're both laughing. like stupid out of breath going back to the game immediately after but still laughing. and yeah they're not touching because they're focusing on the game but they're not being mindful of each other's space not because they don't notice but because they don't care. it's fun and it's carefree and suddenly they know how to be fun and carefree with each other like it's been their dynamic this whole time i feel like we've skipped years

Alex: [makes a pretty outrageous shot, it goes out of the camera frame]

Logan, o/s: "That's in!"

[the ball goes in]

Alex: "OOHHHH!"

my absolute favorite part of this is alex's disbelief. like, he has this sort of naivety and innocence about him that is impossible to believe, because you can't be that successful as a racing driver and be innocent. but he seems so surprised by so many things. when he laughs at something it's like he's hearing it for the first time. and he has this almost childlike joy and exuberance that he slips into so easily, just give him literally any vaguely competitive task and he's over the moon. and i think it's exaggerated in logan's presence, consciously or unconsciously, because logan's such the opposite of that. but even just having alex nearby is good for logan, it's like carrying a little bit of the sun around in his pocket. and that's just alex without even trying. not like oscar and the shoey in silverstone, sweet and empathetic and Aware of a Bigger Picture. alex just is a comforting person as he is and he brings out this silly side of logan that's such a blessing to see

this is what i mean about missing something. because on the surface, this is a pretty familiar scene– an activity wrap up with one of them (usually alex) not focused at all while the other carries the whole script. but it's different. and none of it's spoken (it usually isn't with these two) so it's gonna take me a bit to break down the body language BUT. logan's mannerisms are so much more like alex's now. he talks with his hands, looks back and forth between alex and the camera and the ipad, he shifts as he stands; all in all he's just way more dynamic. even as he's delivering the dryest part of the video. and alex has got most of his excess energy out through the game but not quite all, making himself stay still is a visible effort. but logan is leaning into him, tilting his body, holding out the ipad at the right angle so alex can see it even when alex isn't looking. and even with the hand gestures it's like he's gently but assuredly bringing alex back to the present, trying to ground him. and alex is huddled up next to logan making himself focus and he's still hyper enough that for awhile the only thing he says is just to confirm what logan's saying. logan's describing the wheel and the prizes and alex is just going "yes. yep. yep." like he's pretending he knows what's going on but really he's just following logan's voice, because logan is keeping them both going through the activity while giving alex a space to be scattered and distracted. it's not "you have to focus on me right now" it's "i'm here when you're ready to focus". and alex is literally leaning closer and closer to him as they talk even when he forgets to look at the ipad because logan is keeping him tethered to the flow of this whole video. even alex just giddily saying "ooh strong spin" and logan responding "big spin :)" and alex just echoing him "big spin :D". it's so mundane and so sweet and so i'm going to let you be excited and i'm going to take care of this and alex is so effortlessly comfortable in his own skin and logan is comfortable taking the guiding role for once and they both settle into these roles so comfortably and seamlessly it's like that's how it's always been. it's like i've missed something!!

so much of what happens between them seems to happen in their own little world. completely in their own world, not like charlos who don't always say it out loud but whose feelings are always plainly decipherable from their facial expressions. if you're not looking you will definitely miss it. because the way they connect doesn't make sense, it's unexpected, and from a logistic point of view it should never work but the connection they have just goes beyond words, beyond verbal communication. they just fit each other and it's accepting and it's welcome and it's going to be torn away and fuck

[shadowsingercassia]

The Gate To Home | Chapter 2: "So, you are not just a bitch, but also a blood-drinking witch"

RhysandxreaderxAzriel (because I like to keep you all in suspense with not telling you who our reader ends up with)

Summary: You are an Ironteeth witch and one of Manon's Thirteen. During the third Valg war, all the Thirteen were dead, and you - heavily wounded - fell through a portal. Landing on a far away land, in a war camp, everyone seeming petrified by your iron teeth and nails, you see three males. Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel, your only hopes. But which one of these hopes will help you find your way back into a new home?

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of blood (not graphic), injuries, abuse and wing clipping (let me know if I missed anything!)

Words: 3.3k

This part is dedicated to the readers who could read a whole book in one night and wish someone would be there and watch them 💗 (you'll see where I'm going with this)

Reading over this later so right now there may be some mistakes!

Other parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 3

You still haven't adjusted to Windhaven. Even with Rhysand assigning you to train with them and at nights, he teaches you how to defend your mind from his daemati powers. He finally explained to you what a High Lord was and showed you a map of the Courts and a brief historical backround.

It was the most boring thing you had to listen to. You had almost fell asleep. Almost. Because Rhysand noticed you drifting off and every time he tapped on your weak mental shield. Wake up and fix your mental shield, he would say. Again and again.

While training, you had to deal with lustful stares from every male at the camp. They probably wanted you as breeding stock as they keep the other females here. Each time that happened, you flashed them those iron nails and a toothy grin and then, silence. Most of them still soiled themselves if you got closer than ten feet from them and it was absolutely hilarious. You relished every second of it.

Of course though, some others were fearless and approached you. The even braver ones flirted. You had drank the blood of some of them, after using them, exactly like you did back in Erilea. Except that these males are different, their blood tastes different. Perhaps it's because they are a different race entirely. Illyrians, they called themselves.

But the sudden disappearances didn't go unnoticed. A man - who Rhysand mentioned to you that he is the Lord of the war camp, Lord Devlon - had gripped your shoulder and shoved you into a wall. Your back screamed with the impact of the roughness of the surface.

Iron claws replaces your fingernails but his other hand grabbed your wrist. "You little bitch, what's happening to my men?" He snapped at you. Without thinking, you spat in his face. He just gripped you tighter.

"Let's just say they were brave," you say, a cold expression finding it's way into your face. Lord Devlon's features were twisted with anger. How much you wanted to drag your iron claws down his face. "What did you do to them?" He wouldn't budge or take sass as an answer. Alright then, no sass it is, just for this time.

"I used them for my personal pleasures and once I deemed you weren't useful anymore, I drank their blood."

He froze and you noticed the flicker of fear, but his grip didn't falter and neither did his rage. "So not only are you a bitch, but you're also a blood-drinking witch."

You nod, the corner of your lips tugging upwards into a vicious smirk. Go ahead and challenge me, big guy and then see what happens, it seemed to say. Releasing you, he turned your back at you and walked away.

Rhysand nudges your mind. Shields. Also, you drink blood? His voice echoed in your mind. For witches drinking blood is like a mortal drinking wine, you explain and he retreats from your mind as you fix your mental shield.

Going back into a training mat, you pick up some throwing daggers from the weapon rack. Turning them over and assessing them, you decide they are good enough to do the job you want them to do.

It's not like you're planning to aim on the males here and kill them. No, today you're in no mood for a mass murder. So instead, you start throwing the daggers into different things. Trees, gaps on the wooden walls of cabins and a few birds passing by.

As you were about to throw another dagger, a person winnows in front of you. Azriel.

You had gotten closer with Cassian and Azriel, mostly because you trained with them. Your iron claws stayed retreated when you trained but you could still beat them and get away with a few bruises and tiny scratches.

They were trained in combat, yet, they still couldn't beat you. You've been training since you were six and the training was much harsher than that. Here, they just trained under supervision. But back in Erilea...

Your first years of training were the worst, constant beatings, whippings. Always, you ended up covered in blood, other times with a broken bone. Then, as you got better, and pleased your grandmother more, it wasn't so constant.

"What?" You snap at him. "What the hell was that with Devlon?" He asks.

"I haven't exactly been behaving," you shrug and he rolls his eyes. "When have you ever behaved?" Rhetorical question, of course. You've never behaved before. Then he speaks again, "Does it have to do with the disappearances of the males?" You nod.

"Mhm, how do you know?" A shadow tendril snakes up your leg all the way up. "Oh, the shadows again," you sigh. "Will they ever not pry into my business?" He chuckles.

"Business? Bedding men and then dining on their blood is business?"

"Your shadows are too curious for their own good," another shadow tendril moves up your arm. "Just... try to keep it to a minimum, Devlon isn't known for being kind." You roll your eyes. "Don't underestimate me, Az, my nails can do more damage than his sword. I sharpened them last night."

His eyebrows furrowed. "You sharpen your claws?

"Of course, what did you think?" You answer him.

"I think that you are insane," you chuckle, but like always, it's humorless. After everything, no matter how much you laugh or smile, it's not out of joy or because life is all happy. No, this is just another challenge, but you'd go back, you had to go back to Erilea.

Shields up, you hear Rhysand's voice in your mind. Shut up, you answer him and fix your mental shields, once again. You weren't exactly fond of it, you hated him being in your mind all the time, reminding you to put your shields up besides, no one else in Windhaven had daemati abilities other than him.

"I'm going to go train with Cassian, feel free to join us," Azriel says and then after a moment, walks away.

You didn't join them for training. Instead, you had gone to their cabin. You walked over to a small bookshelf and checked if they had any books on magical portals.

Of course there aren't books on magical portals, what did you expect? And there it is again, Rhysand. This time you don't bother to answer, only locking your shields in place and returning to your search.

"What are you looking for, dear?" Rhysand's mother asks. Her voice was soft as if she was speaking to her child and not to a stranger in her cabin. You haven't met her yet, therefore, it's confusing that she hasn't asked who you are or what are you doing in her cabin.

"I'm not looking for anything in particular, I simply wanted to see if you has any interesting books," you answer, and for the first time since you came here, the upward tug of your lips is genuine. "Are you interested in books then?" Her smile mirrors your own, except hers is a lot more bright.

"Very much so," you answer. It feels off lying to Rhysand's mother. Although, your words are a half-truth, you can't help but want to outright tell her why you are here.

"I'll leave you to be, dear. I hope you find something that piques your interest," and with a bright smile, she departs, leaving you alone to rummage through the small library space. You didn't find specifically what you were looking for - a book on hoe to travel through portals - but, your gaze caught on another book, 'The Myths and Legends of Prythian.'

Taking it in your hands, you ran your fingers over the worn cover, the leather slightly damaged. You flip through the first pages, the paper seeming crinkled at certain parts, as if someone had read it, over and over again.

Your feet carried you to the kitchen in order to find Rhysand's mother. "May I borrow this for a few days?" You bold up the book for her to see. "Of course dear. This is Rhysand's favorite book, I'm sure you'll love it, I'll just tell him you have it," so that's was why the pages were like that.

Nodding in thanks, you left and returned to your own cabin. The sky was bathed in golden, orange and pink as the sun started setting behind the mountains.

Opening the door, you find Rhysand on a chair. "That's my favorite book," he said as a way of greeting. "I'm borrowing it," you answer as your own way of greeting.

The ghost of a smile tugged on his lips, as always when he was with you, you tried to brush it off as nothing but something about the sight of it felt... intimate, not that you'd ever admit it to him.

"I thought you told me that we wouldn't have a lesson today," you spoke after a few beats of silence. He placed his elbows on the desk in front of him. "Plans change," he replied nonchalantly. "Indeed they do, but I still wasn't planning to have a lesson today," he chuckles and you roll your eyes and take a seat opposite to his.

"If you don't want to have a lesson then what do you suggest we do, ironheart?"

"I suggest you leave and I get to read the book I borrowed from your cabin," you say, placing the book on the table for emphasis. He chuckles again.

"If you wanted to know about the myths and legends of Prythian, you could have just asked." You started to ignore him now, standing up and moving to the uncomfortable couch of the living room.

It was better than nothing, you supposed, the cushions weren't comfortable, not in the slightest. The color should've been a dark dusty red, but it worn off over the probably too many years, now leaving only a faint pink that's almost grey.

"Ignoring me now, are you?"

You didn't speak, or better, weren't in the mood to speak to him. Actually, you were never in the mood to speak to Rhysand, and since he invaded your mind all the time telling you to keep your shields up, you hated him even more.

But it's not like you were listening. You had dozed off into the words written on the books since the first page.

Once upon a time, when the faeries danced and the darkness was long ago lost, magical creatures came across.

It talked about different myths and legends. About witches and wyverns and goblins and sirens. You found yourself completely enamored by each and every word. You were so lost into the book that nothing could have distracted you at that moment.

You don't know for how long you had been reading, perhaps it was an hour or maybe it was five. You couldn't care less how much time had passed. After reading the last page, and closing the book, you noticed a tear drying on your cheek. Gently, you placed the book on the table in front of the couch and then your eyes lock with Rhysand's.

"Were you watching me read for I don't know how many hours straight?" His gaze softens and you glare at him.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Why should you?"

"You can keep the book if you want, I've read it countless of times," he stands up to leave. That ridiculous male had moved his chair so he could be watching you when you were reading. Who does he think he is?

"No, it's your book, you will take it back," you call after him and when you don't hear a response, you shoot up to your feet. Reaching the front door in a few seconds, you open it and throw the book at him. It hits him on his back, between the shoulder blades, exactly where you had aimed it.

"I said it's your book you will take it back, bat."

His laugh is deep and it echoes through the silent camp. He turns towards you and picks up the book. "Well I didn't have you as the type to be kind, ironheart," he teases and you flip him off and close the door.

Such an arrogant bat.

***

The leathers were suffocatingly hot, as always. Your skin was already slick with sweat underneath them and the late summer heat didn't make it any better.

Even if the leathers were sleeveless, the sweat glided down in thick rivulets down your back. You rolled up the leather pants just above your knees, exposing a few fading bruises.

Approaching Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand, they didn't stop training and then a man tapped your shoulder. You turned to face him.

His dark hair was slick with sweat and he ran a hand through it, pushing it back from his eyes, who were a vibrant green. Under the gleaming sun, his golden brown skin seemed almost as if it was glowing and you blamed it on the sweat that was covering the expanse of his exposed chest.

Of course he was shirtless, all the males were and the only reason you didn't train in a training bra was because you didn't want the other males ogling your breasts.

"Hello, witch" his smirk is smug, too smug for your liking. Just another disgusting brute then.

You turn and walk away but he is bold enough to grab your wrist. You look at him over your shoulder. So he thinks he's so brave, hm?

Iron claws replace your fingernails and you almost scratch him but he grips your other wrist in his grip.

"What do you want?"

His smirk widens, you already hate him. "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spar with me, but without the iron claws. Or the iron teeth. I want a fair spar with you."

You raise your eyebrows. "Why?"

He only shrugs, which annoys you. "They're probably going easy on you. Let me give you a good spar."

"I'm fine, you can go back to your training," you say.

"Just one spar."

"Fine."

He leads you into a spare training mat and takes a fighting position. You notice his shoulders are somewhat tensed.

"If you want to fight me, at least have a proper fighting position." He chuckles but his laugh, it feels off, a hunt of something that seems so off. But you brush it off as your thoughts and take your fighting stance. His broad shoulders relax.

"So, come at me, tough guy," the male doesn't hesitate to lunge. His fist goes straight for your sternum but you block it with ease. Such a poor technique.

You duck under the fist coming at your jaw and land a punch on his gut. He doubles over and you straighten up your position, throwing another punch to his temple but he recovers and blocks it.

It goes like that for a few more moments. Block, punch, attack, block et cetera. He managed to land a punch to your jaw, not strong enough to black out but you still felt blue blood pooling in your mouth.

Recovering from the powerful blow, you spit the blood on the side before twisting and dodging another attack. His side is left open and exposed so you take the opportunity to kick him. But he's fast enough to grab your ankle and yank at it, making you lose your balance and fall face first onto the mat.

You roll on your back and he is on top of you in a second. He pins your forearms on either side of your head but leaves your legs unattended. Grasping the chance, you flip him over and let yourself slide until you're seated on his chest.

He still has a grip on your wrists but he can't get free from you now. You place your one foot on his bicep, pressing down on it with the heel of your boot. His face twists into an expression of pain and you smirk in satisfaction as a hiss escapes him.

"I yield, I yield!" He says, his voice almost breaking. Oh how much of a mess you made. A bruise was starting to take place on his eye and one of his jaw. And probably several more on his chest tomorrow.

You release him and stand up from where you were seated on his chest, brushing off he flecks of dust on your leathers. Touching your jaw, the place where he had punched you was sore, and so were your forearms. He sure does have an iron grip.

Extending your hand for him, he takes it and stands up as well. "You sure can hold up well in a fight. I admit, I underestimated you at first but you've proved yourself as a worthy opponent."

He flashes you a smug grin that you absolutely hated. But you couldn't deny that this spar was very interesting.

You walk away from him, not wanting to be close to him ever again. But perhaps his blood tastes good. No, you wouldn't think like that you had enough males' blood over the past month.

Changing your mind about training with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel, you find another spare mat and train until the sunset.

You're sweating buckets, Rhysand says into your mind. It's the leathers, you reply and then lock your mental shields in place but he taps on them twice, so you open them for a second. There's a shop in the village of Illyria, you can go visit maybe the shopkeeper can make you something. Locking your mental shields back in place, you head to the village he mentioned.

Rhysand had shown you the map of Windhaven, Illyria, the Night Court and at last Prythian. You had only paid attention to the male of Windhaven and Illyria, for the other two, you didn't give two shits about them.

Heading towards the village, the walk wasn't too time-consuming and in half an hour at most, you caught sight of a shop. The faelights of the shop still twinkled brightly as the woman, who is probably the shopkeeper is cleaning the space.

Approaching it yo realize that it's closed for the night. Damn it. The shopkeeper though tilts her head slightly and walks to the door to the shop and opens it.

"You're not from here," she states leaning against the door. Her dark hair is tied into a simple briad and a few strands had come loose, framing her angular face.

Brown eyes bore into yours and your gaze scans her wings. Damaged, cuts along the center. She wore a simple brown dress, loosely hanging off her slender frame.

"It's a long story, what happened to your wings?" She sighs at your question, most likely sensitive to the topic. "Never mind, don't answer me, it's not my business."

Her gaze quickly scans you from head-to-toe. "Here in Illyria they clip a female's wings when she gets her first cycle. I was lucky I kept mine, usually they cut them off completely." That same rage simmered beneath the surface again, and you clenched your jaw, trying to keep yourself from going to Devlon and shoving a dagger through his very inviting throat.

You didn't feel pity for the female. Likewise, you found yourself sympathizing with her at a certain extent. They scarred her wings so badly that she couldn't fly literally, but back in Erilea, your grandmother did the same to you metaphorically.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity."

A brief smile tugs at her lips. "Why are you here?" She changes the subject completely and you can't exactly blame her, you would've done something similar.

"I was wondering whether you could try to make the leathers more lightweight for the summer and perhaps make the design similar to a tank top, but with enough cleavage so the males won't be ogling my breasts?"

She chuckled at the specific request. "I'll see what I can do, you can come by in a few days," you smiled briefly at her.

You extend your hand to her.

"I'm Y/n"

"I'm Emerie" she takes your hand.

------------------------☆------------------------

a/n: I am literally going hyper for this series I am falling in love with it as I am writing it and I actually enjoy it so much! I have a vision that it's going to be about 10 chapters but I don't know exactly maybe it will be more but I am so glad I decided to write this series! ❤️

series taglist: @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @anarchiii @saltedcoffeescotch @blackgirlmagicforever

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc

comment '🤍'to be added to this series taglist!

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia! ❤️

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Hello, everyone! Hope you're all doing well. I'm sorry for taking forever to update. There was moving and chaos and continued chaos that I will not be getting into, but I just wanted to thank everyone for their patience and support. It really means a lot to me that people actually enjoy my writing and my story.

With that being said, I hope this chapter is okay. I was having a hard time with it. For some reason when I'm writing it just feels like the words are so repetitive and boring. Hoping that isn't the case. Also, forgive me for any mistakes there may be. At some point when this story is all done I plan to edit things I may have missed going through the first time around. Enjoy!

Ps, my wifi kind of sucks so i couldn't veiw the gif I picked very well. Hope it's okay for all of you.

Chapter 21:

-Los Illuminados, 2004-

The relief you felt when you finally saw Ada as she hurried through the church gate was immense. The villagers had been circling the area, and were a little too close for your liking. You had, luckily, managed to keep yourself hidden.

“Ada!” You whisper-yelled, gaining her attention without the other villagers noticing. As she locked eyes with you, it was clear to you that you both were equally relieved to see each other.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” She studied your figure in search of any obvious injuries. Finding just slight scratches, she seemed satisfied enough with your current state.

“I'm fine. But I have some bad news.” A particularly loud shout from a villager nearby spooked you and made you walk further away, dragging Ada along by her arm.

“Relax, dear. I took some of the ones surrounding the area down. Only a few stragglers here and there, but they won't be any match for us.” She said calmly. It helped soothe your nerves for a moment, until you remembered the bad news you were trying to share. 

“What happened?” Ada asked. “What's the bad news? I assume it has something to do with Luis, considering he isn't here with us right now.” 

You sighed in defeat. “You're right. It is about Luis. He got jumped by the villagers just after I got here. I wanted to help, but there were just too many for me to even attempt to take down. He told me to wait for you to get here before we go after him. I'm sorry, Ada.”

She gently placed a hand on one of your own and squeezed it reassuringly. “Don't apologize. I don't blame you. I believe you when you say there were too many. I found out from Wesker that the heightened activity is likely due to the president's daughter being in town.” She explained. Your eyes widened.

“The president's daughter? They kidnapped her?” 

Ada nodded in confirmation. “They did. And not only that. We have a friend who happens to be in Los Iluminados as well.”

A friend? Confused, you asked her, “Who?”

“You don't want to guess?” She sarcastically responded. The playful attitude and the smirk upon her face would be endearing and entertaining, if you weren't so crunched for time.

“I doubt we have time for that.”

“Not like we have many friends, dear.”

You shrugged with a nod. “Good point. Has to be…” you rack your brain, going through all your danger prone friends. Could be Jill. But you highly doubted that. Last you heard from her, she was on a mission with Chris Redfield. That was only a couple of weeks ago. Claire? You didn't think so either. It's been awhile since you've kept tabs on her, but you couldn't think of any reason on why she would be here.

“Leon?” You guessed.

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner. First guess too. I'm impressed.” 

You hadn't seen Leon Kennedy since after Raccoon City, when you both had gone your own ways after he decided to risk asking the military for help. Since then, you and Ada had heard things about him here and there. How he now worked for the government as a sort of super soldier. Given his prior experience with his police training and the infected in the city, they decided he would be a valuable asset. Someone they just couldn't part with. 

This was all supposed to be top secret, but your girlfriend is Ada Wong. She could get whatever information she wanted.

“He must be here for the President's daughter.” 

“My thoughts exactly. I'm actually glad he is here. His presence provided a nice distraction to keep the townsfolk occupied while I made my way to the church.” She explained. Those gunshots must have been his then. Never the subtle one.

Speaking of gunshots. You and Ada both startled when you heard them once again, only this time the sound was closer.

Ada grabbed a hold of your waist with one arm and used the other to aim with her grappling hook. She hooked it to the church steeple and then you were both zipped up, landing on your feet with practiced precision.

She put away the grappling hook as the gunshots continued. “Sounds like he could use a little help.” Ada said, quickly jumping down to grab the rope to the church bell. You followed shortly after her and covered your ears in preparation of the noise.

Ada pulled the rope once and let it ring. Both of you watched as the townspeople made their way to the inside of the church. They acted as if they were in a trance. Or moths to a flame. From where you stood, Leon was just as confused by their behavior as you and Ada were.

“That's weird. How did you know that would happen?” You wondered.

Your girlfriend shrugged, “I didn't. I just figured the sudden noise would confuse them, giving him enough of a distraction to get out of there. Worked better than I thought it would.” She finished with a smirk. More of a confused, yet proud, smirk rather than amused. 

With all the villagers inside, you and Ada both went to return to the mission at hand. Just before you were fully out of earshot, you heard a comment that amused you greatly.

“Where did everyone go? Bingo?” Leon snarked.

You were so unprepared for it.

“HA!” The sudden cackle that lame comment got out of you was far too loud for your comfort. And Ada's, judging by her reaction. She covered your mouth with her hand to muffle the sound, giving you a stern glare. But her lips, too, twitched with amusement.

You watched as Leon looked around for the source of the noise, but quickly moved on after having no luck.

“Don't worry, Leon. First time's free.” Ada muttered. She removed her hand from your face after she deemed it safe enough to do so. “You could have blown our cover with your unworldly cackle, my love.” 

You huffed another quiet laugh. “Sorry. I just wasn't expecting it. I usually expect comments like that from you.” 

Your response to her gentle, and clearly not too serious, chastising made her smile as she grabbed a hold of your waist once more and zipped you both back down to the ground. She continued the conversation once you've both landed.

“As if you don't tend to also make inappropriately timed jokes during stressful situations. I admit, I am a little jealous that he got such a reaction out of you. Should I be worried?”

Her hand gently brushed some of your hair away from your face, before dropping it back down to her side. You blushed, shaking your head and snorting at her joke. 

She grinned again. “Clearly I shouldn't be. I doubt he could get such an adorable blush and a snort from you.”

Your blush deepened and you sighed. “Stop it.” 

“Why? I practically live for your reactions. Don't know how I ever survived all those years without your little huffs and sighs.” Her grin turned mischievous, knowing damn well what her flirty tone and words implied. 

And knowing that your blush will not go away because of it.

Evil. Ada Wong is beyond evil.

A sudden ring from the radio in Ada's possession interrupted your, admittedly, completely off track conversation. Ada frowned and answered the call.

“We just lost Luis's signal somewhere in the vicinity of the forest. Expect the worst.” 

You hear Wesker drawl, frowning at the implication. You hope Luis isn't dead. Your guilt at getting distracted just a few moments ago worsened at the thought. Now wasn't the time to play around.

“That's near Méndez, isn't it? He has a house there. Could be worth taking a look.” Ada suggested. You nodded in agreement when her eyes met yours in a silent question.

“Do it. I'll see what I can find from my end.” With that, Wesker hung up the call. Ada put the radio away with a sigh.

“Should have known this entire mission would be trouble. We should get going.”

“Agreed.” 

With that, you two went on with your mission, away from the church.

—

Clemente's Appeal

Master,

If you pay it some thought, it is unusual that Isidro let me go.

Ever since that beast in the black robe struck me with something, I have been feeling strange. I have started seeing things, having visions. The sky itself looks like that of another world. 

And then, that thing comes. Only now there are many. Hundreds.

Master, I beg you! Please! Is there a way to escape this horror?

“Find anything interesting?” The sudden voice broke your concentration. You jumped, startled, looking up from the letter in your hands to Ada. She was taking anything of interest or value from the room you were in. 

The room itself was creeping you out. The light fog on the floor, along with the candles and human skulls set almost casually in crates and tables, made you feel on edge. Or maybe it was just this village in general making you feel so on edge.

“A note about a beast in a black robe. I was thinking it might be the one that attacked us back at the castle.”

You paused, remembering the moment Ada covered you from the exploding substance that had, in turn, hit her. Just a couple drops, but enough to worry you after what the letter said. “You aren't seeing things, are you?”

“Seeing things?”

“You know, seeing things that aren't there. The note mentioned seeing multiple of the same beast in the black robe. And a weird sky. Did you see anything like that?” You asked, handing the note over for her to read.

She paused, avoiding eye contact with you as she took her sweet time reading the note you'd found. She can read much faster than that. Already you knew something was up.

Looking back at you, though still avoiding eye contact, she shook her head and smiled. That smile would fool anyone else into thinking everything was fine, but it didn't fool you.

“No. Haven't seen anything like that.” Her tone was off. Only slightly higher than usual. 

She's hiding something.

“You're lying, Ada.” She sighed in defeat, knowing there would be no convincing you otherwise. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Truthfully… I don't know. After you left is when the visions happened. My surroundings became distorted and that black robed thing multiplied in the middle of the fight before it disappeared.”

“So you didn't kill it?” 

“No. It left before I could.” Ada clarified.

“And have you seen anything weird since the fight?”

“Define weird? We're only completely surrounded by it.” She joked weakly, attempting in vain to lighten mood.

You frowned in disbelief. “Stop it. You know I don't joke when it comes to your wellbeing. Have you seen any visions of the creature since the fight?”

“No, I haven't.” She shook her head. “You know, it could have just been a one off thing.”

“Possibly.” You tiredly responded. You softened when Ada placed her hand on your shoulder, attempting to bring some sort of comfort. “Just tell me if you have any more visions.” 

“Yes ma'am.” You shoved her arm in response to her sarcastic salute. She smirked and put the letter away with her other belongings.

—

Ada eventually led you both out to the empty town center, where there appeared to be the charred remains of a man that was quite recently burnt at the stake. The sight gave you pause. 

“So, they're just burning people alive now? Is this a sacrificial offering to the Plaga or something?” You wondered out loud, not expecting an answer. Though, you still turned to face Ada when you didn't hear any comment from her. 

She was looking around frantically, a slight look of fear on her, normally stoic, face.

“Ada? Are you al-” Your question was interrupted by her gripping her head in pain, stumbling in place. You immediately bolted to her and held her steady by the arms. 

All too suddenly, she pushed you away and did a roundhouse kick to the air, as if something was behind her. She backed away in confusion when she realized nothing was there. “How…?”

“Ada. You're seeing it, aren't you? It's here.” You looked for it, turning around and making eye contact with the giant insectoid in the black robe behind you. 

“Help me out, dear, and point me to the real one.” Ada gasped, taking her gun out, ready to destroy the creature that was messing with her head.

So, with a shotgun in hand, that is exactly what you did. You did your best to help Ada differentiate between the visions and the real deal while simultaneously avoiding the attacks it sent your way. Especially avoiding any mysterious goo it attempted to shoot your way. You both didn't need to be seeing multiple.

Finally, your teamwork weakened the beast enough for one of you to take the shot. The subtle fury on Ada's features made you allow her to do the honors. Pistol in hand, she took the shot…

And missed. How did she miss it? Ada Wong doesn't miss. Your concern grew when she dropped the gun and stumbled once more, clutching her head in pain. 

Angry, you aimed the shotgun at the creature. You didn't even get the chance to pull the trigger before it slapped you with its enlarged claw, knocking you away from it. Your head ached as you crashed it with a painful slam to the ground, right next to the charred human remains. 

You groaned, blinking rapidly to clear your vision and watching as the black robed creature made its escape. Forcing yourself to your feet, you quickly ran over to check on Ada.

She picked up her dropped pistol with confusion clouding her features. And, though she would never admit it, you could tell she was scared. 

“What is wrong with me?” She muttered. She glanced up once she noticed your presence, backing a few paces away from you when you attempted to comfort her. “Stop. Keep some distance.”

That reaction from Ada surprised you. “Ada-”

“I don't want to hurt you.” She firmly stated. “Clearly I'm not in full control of myself. That thing stopped me from killing it somehow.”

You hummed, understanding her worries, but not wanting her to distance herself from you either. “I guess it does more than just show you things. But it's gone for now, Ada. You don't have to worry about hurting me.” 

Slowly, as to not make her back away, you walked forward and grabbed her hand that wasn't holding the pistol. Nothing bad happened. You held her hand in a tighter hold. “See? Nothing. You don't have to worry so much. We'll figure this out together, okay?”

She nodded. “We will. But first, we find Luis.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cause of Action 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Your first week is tame. Boring, even. Your desk mates are quiet and cold. They barely even talk to each other. You suppose they have a lot of work to do, a lot more serious work than you. Your own tasks are rather tedious but menial nonetheless.

You find your sight blurring as you scroll through a case brief. You have your elbow on your desk, cupping your chin at your mindless perusal. The subtle click of the mechanism slips through your trance but doesn’t quite register. It isn’t until a dark shape stands in your peripheral that you finally break your near-comatose state.

“Mr. Barber,” you greet, barely able to conceal your surprise, “hi.”

“Just checking in,” he says as he rests his hand on the cubicle wall, “and I had a favour to ask you.”

“Uh, sure,” you keep your hand on your mouse, tapping the wheel nervously.

“Think you could start late tomorrow? You’ll see in the calendar there’s a late meeting and I won’t be in until noon anyway,” he explains, his free hand hooks on his belt. He does that, he stands like a disapproving dad and it makes your bones rattle.

“Right, uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Great,” he smacks the cubicle wall and it shakes just a little, “you grab a donut from the break room?”

“Donut?” You pique at the mention of sugar, “oh, well… I’m tryna cut back.”

“That’s too bad. I got ‘em from this place about a block down. They’re great. I love the boston creams but the crullers aren’t bad either.”

“Hmmm, maybe at lunch,” you shrug, “thanks, Mr. Barber.”

“No problem, just a little pick me up for the office,” he looks around as the office drones continue on without acknowledgement. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Alright,” you smile and swivel back to your screen.

He lingers for a moment before he strides off. You glance over as he enters the break room. The smell of coffee soon stirs in the air and makes your stomach grumble.

“Eh, could use another cup,” Marnie sighs but makes no move to fulfill her wishes.

You ponder a second coffee but think better of it. Caffeine usually has you addled and you’re already restless sitting around at a computer. You refocus on the case brief as Mr. Barber’s shadow approaches the door.

It’s strange. He seems so nice but the rest of this place is so miserable. Well, it is work.

📓

The late start to your day throws everything off. By the time you get to the office, you’re exhausted already. You couldn’t sleep in despite your efforts so much of your morning was spent in anticipation of starting work.

As you get to work Marnie is on her lunch and Taylor is huffing at his phone screen. He tends to be on that more than his computer. Mr. Barber greets you in passing as he appears with a cup of coffee. He retreats to his office as you settle in at your desk. There’s a small container waiting for you with a note.

‘Hope it’s not stale.’

You flick the post-it and tilt the container to see through the clear plastic. A donut dressed up with graham crumble and what appears to be strawberry jam. It looks delicious and dangerously high in calories. Still, a nice gesture. You would feel bad to reject it.

You get started, the day dragging by as usual. You pick away at the donut, trying hard not to get any crumbs or gooeyness on your keyboard. You get a few messages from Mr. Barber about new tasks but he’s mostly cloistered in his office, explaining that he’s on calls all day.

Marnie packs up first, then Taylor. Once they’re gone, the office takes on an eerie hue with the dimming sky outside. The tinted yellow bulbs do little to ease the ambiance. You clack on keys ambivalently, all caught up and anxious.

The door clicks and you spin to face your boss. You have no chill left.

“Oh, hi,” he buttons his jacket, “uh, you ready?”

“Ready? I thought the meeting was here?”

“No, uh, my client changed his plans,” he checks his watch, “you’ll get overtime for the extra hours.”

“Um, alright,” you stand up and stretch out your legs. Mr. Barber nears as you grab your purse and swipe up your phone from the top of your desk. “That’s fine, I guess.”

“Sorry, I know it’s weird hours but the guy’s not exactly a negotiator. Hence why he hired me.”

“No problem. I signed up for it, right?”

“I like that attitude,” he grins, “so, you like the donut?”

He peeks over at the empty container forgotten beside your monitor. You push your shoulders up and bite the inside of your lip.

“Yeah, very sweet,” you say, “thanks.”

“I’ve never had the strawberry so I’ll take your word for it,” he gestures you ahead of him towards the door, “better get going.”

“Sure.”

You lead the way and he locks the door behind him. He follows you down the narrow stairs as you cling to the banister. Your heels make the descent treacherous.

As you come out under the greying sky, Andy exhales heavily and checks his watch again. “I’ll drive.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, Mr. Barber,” you utter. You assumed it might have been just down the block. The mystery of it all is frustrating. You should’ve checked the calendar.

“Andy’s fine,” he corrects, “for tonight. Oh and a bit of advice, you don’t have to put up with my client. He says anything untoward, you let me know.”

He guides you down to a dark car parked by a meter. You near the passenger’s side and watch him come up the other.

“Should I be worried?” You ask.

“No, but he can be… direct.”

“Ah, right,” you nod, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Nice girl like you, I’m sure it will be,” he agrees as the locks slide back noisily.

He opens his door and sits in the driver’s seat. You get in and buckle up as he checks his mirrors and fiddles with a few switches. He seems almost more anxious than you.

“I won’t feel so out of place with you around,” he remarks as he puts his signal on and looks over his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“You’ll see,” he girds as he pulls out.

You wish he would just tell you where you’re going but you’re too embarrassed to ask. If he knew you didn’t even bother to check the calendar, it might not look so good on you. And you need him to give you a glowing reference. You can’t have the only experience on your resume be tainted by your own carelessness.

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Sixteen

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Would the humans never go away?

Fireheart had to admit to his own building frustration as each night had the same answer to if the Clan could go back home: they could not, because the cars and humans were still in the forest. Each announcement from whoever scouted over the moorland elicited a louder and louder communal groan. They could all be grateful for the warm air in the Barn as the slush became snow that did not touch their temporary home, but even that was thinning their patience with how stuffy it could get.

What was also thinning quickly was the rodent population in the Barn. Every night it became steadily more challenging to find a mouse—the wisest of them had hid all this time and were not inclined to be discovered just because there was more room for them to wander. Granted, the added difficulty wore out the apprentices and warriors quicker, giving them all something to spend their energy on. Though, as Fireheart thought with every meal, he’d love to spend that energy on finding a mole or bird.

Bluestar and Speckletail allowed cats to walk around outside after the wrestling between apprentices got too loud and frequent, with the caveat that apprentices were to stay with a warrior at all times. To Fireheart’s disappointment, the kits were not included, and the two litters were stuck inside as the rest of the Clan got to explore the farmland.

“I’m sorry, little guy,” Fireheart said to Cloudkit as he prepared to go out with Greystripe. “I wish I could take you with me.”

Cloudkit, to his credit, did not pout about it as much as he could have. He just looked at the ground with a sigh.

Fireheart gave him a friendly nudge with a paw. “I’ll try to find something fun to bring back for you and your siblings. Is that alright?”

The fluffy kit perked up a little and nodded. “‘Kay. Make it really fun.”

Fireheart used the same paw to ruffle his nephew’s head-fur. “I’ll do my best.”

Bramblekit came up beside Cloudkit, glancing at Bluestar as she flinched walking by him. “What kinda fun will it be?” 

Fireheart ignored the look on Bluestar’s face and said, “It’s a surprise. Try to guess before I come back.” 

He turned and trotted away, catching up to Greystripe, and the pair strode off to the Barn’s right.

“I feel bad for the kits,” Greystripe said, shaking a snowflake off of his nose. “If I’m bored, I can only imagine how they’re doing.”

Fireheart opened his mouth and caught a snowflake of his own, taking a pause to marvel at the ice turning to water on his tongue before answering. “And even if they could go outside, there’s not much to do here. I mean, I know we kind of do the same thing every day at home, but…”

“We get to at least travel all over the place wherever we choose,” Greystripe replied. “And we do it a lot—hunting or marking borders or chasing off foxes—which means the nights we get to stay home and relax are so much sweeter, don’t you think?”

“You have a point.” Fireheart’s paw scraped at the very, very thin layer of snow on the ground. “I hope the humans leave soon.”

Greystripe grumbled, “They better. I don’t even know what they think they’re doing in there. The fire’s out.”

“I still think they’re looking for the dogs.”

“For this long? And they wouldn’t have caught them by now?”

“Well…” Fireheart started, before his eyes drifted over to a pair of cats ahead and to the left. “Ask him.”

“Get him to argue your point for you, sure,” Greystripe said with a friendly (restrained) nudge, and then called, “Hey, Ravenwing!”

Their friend looked up from watching Snowpaw pat and scoop at the snow and frozen earth. “Oh, hi. Where are you two going?”

“Just seeing if there’s anything out here that isn’t a mouse.” Greystripe led the way up to him. “Is this a new training tactic?”

Ravenwing gave Greystripe a dry look. “He’s exploring snow for the first time.”

Snowpaw seemed to just now notice the older toms. He straightened up and gestured with a twitch of his fur, something that Fireheart faintly remembered to mean “cold”, to which he nodded. He used a paw to point to Snowpaw and then to the white-dappled ground: that’s you. Snowpaw gleefully nodded back and scooped at the snow again, pulling it towards him in a molehill-lump.

“I’m glad that he’s enjoying himself,” Greystripe said, giving the little tom a fond look.

“Well!”

Eyes turned to Barley, round and smelling like strange meat, as he trotted over to them from the direction of the house. His patched fur, short though it was, flared out merrily.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen a cat like the snow,” he continued. “I sure hope he doesn’t get tired of it—he’s perfect for hunting in this weather.”

Ravenwing huffed a short chuff and turned to his apprentice again. “He’s going to need that coat, yeah. Hunting outside of the Barn is tough enough as it is.”

Barley blinked, then caught on and sighed sympathetically. “Ah, you’ve gotten the fever. Sick of mice, I take it?”

“A little,” Greystripe said. “Isn’t there anything else out here?”

“Well, sort of, but you don’t have to hunt it.” Barley turned around, gesturing with his tail for the warriors to follow.

Ravenwing nudged Snowpaw, getting his attention again, and was the first to go after Barley. Fireheart and Greystripe walked together, and Fireheart frowned as he sniffed the scent coming off of the loner.

What is that? he thought, narrowing his eyes. I could swear I’ve smelled it before…

He got his answer quickly, when Barley took a turn and trotted for a pair of dishes on the outside wall of the Barn. One dish had kibble in it, and the other had several slabs of pale meat. They were raw and fresh, and they smelled so familiar…

“Chicken!” Barley announced proudly. He took a step back, clearing the path to the food. “I only had one chunk myself. By all means, have at.”

Fireheart chanced a look at his friends, predicting their stunned and revolted faces.

“This is from your humans, isn’t it?” Greystripe said, grimacing. “There’s no way I’m eating that.”

Snowpaw tapped Ravenwing and signaled ‘prey’, tilting his head. Ravenwing shook his and said to Barely, “Er, we appreciate the offer, but… I think we’d all prefer natural-caught food.”

Barley, surprisingly, did not look remotely bothered. He rolled a broad shoulder. “Ah, well. I thought I’d offer. Didn’t want it to go to waste. Surely someone’s hungry enough to eat this, though.”

Fireheart thought for a moment. “Greystripe, help me bring some of this to the kits. They won’t mind it’s not mouse.”

“Seriously?” Greystripe squinted at his friend.

“Seriously,” Fireheart said breezily, and maneuvered past Barley to chomp down on a rather thick slab of meat, pulling it away from the bowl. He didn’t wait for Greystripe, just trotted off back in the direction of the doorway, not wanting to admit that the taste of the chicken was good enough to almost make him eat it himself. Going by the surprised noise Greystripe made, he had the same reaction.

Ravenwing and Snowpaw trailed behind as Fireheart entered the Barn, Greystripe now at his side. He called wordlessly and dropped the meat down at his paws, which Greystripe copied, and waved his tail in greeting as the kits waded through and around a pile of hay to investigate, Goldenflower behind them.

“Got a special treat for you, kits!” Fireheart said cheerfully. “Are you hungry?”

A few squeaks of eagerness, and Cloudkit led the charge as they crowded around the chicken and started biting into it without even sniffing it. Fireheart purred, watching their tails wag.

“What is this, honeymouse?” Goldenflower circled the kits and greeted Fireheart with a headbump. “It doesn’t smell like anything I know.”

“Barley’s humans threw out some extra meat for him,” Fireheart said, and just as she opened her mouth, he added, “I know, it’s from humans, but he’s not going to eat it all and it’d be silly to let food go to waste in winter.”

Goldenflower shut her mouth again with a sigh through her nose, though her eyes were affectionate. “Very well, then.”

“’Wh’zi?” Cloudkit asked, chomping on a chunk.

“It’s called ‘chicken’,” Fireheart replied. “It’s a meat only kittypets eat, because it’s given to them.”

Cloudkit’s rich blue eyes widened, surprised and intrigued. He swallowed his mouthful. “You mean they don’t hunt for food?”

“Right. They just eat what they get.” Fireheart caught the start of a grimace on Goldenflower’s face and hurriedly added, “But their food isn’t very good anyway. It’s way better to hunt.”

Cloudkit hummed thoughtfully as he took another bite.

“Well, at least they have something to distract them,” Brindleface said sleepily, yawning as she came around the corner to join the kits and matriarch. “Don’t tell Dustpelt you got them this, he’ll be furious.”

“About what?” Swiftpaw asked as he popped up around the outside of the door, trotting in with Lizardtail and nearly bumping into Ravenwing just ahead of them. When Fireheart gestured to the kits, he had a briefly confused look at what they were eating before saying, “Oh, yeah, don’t tell him about that. Barley offered me some of that stuff earlier, actually.”

“He didn’t take it,” Lizardtail said, in a tone like that was something to be proud of.

Fireheart decided not to comment on that, instead asking, “Did you go out to hunt too?”

Swiftpaw grumbled a sigh. “And there wasn’t anything out there.”

Lizardtail looked at his apprentice humorously, saying to Fireheart, “He’s trying to prove he’s ready for his assessment.” He tapped Swiftpaw with his tail. “Apparently, catching a lot of prey is the qualifier.”

“Something’s gotta be!” Swiftpaw gave his mentor a frustrated scowl. “You even said yourself that it’s about time for me to get my name! I know we’re not at home, but for crying out loud…!”

“Easy, easy.” Lizardtail gave a ‘quiet’ gesture with his paw. “Your sister doesn’t have a name either.”

“And it’s time for her, too!”

“Well, sometimes seer apprentices take longer.”

Swiftpaw grumbled again. Fireheart watched as his paws tip-tapped and his claws poked at the hard ground. Even with the appearance of mere eagerness to get his name, his jaw was clicking a bit and his tail-fur stuck out.

You just want a distraction while you’re not at home, Fireheart thought sympathetically.

“We’re all a little frustrated and bored,” he said aloud. “I get it. I’d love to see Swiftpaw get his name here, honestly. Think of that: he’d be the only cat in ThunderClan to have his ceremony where humans could see.”

Lizardtail’s lip twitched in distaste. “They better not peep in. We’ve been lucky that they haven’t bothered us.”

“Oh, they looked in here,” Goldenflower said, and though her voice was gentle as ever, her claws sank into the straws. “Earlier, when you all were gone.”

“They didn’t come in, at least,” Brindleface said. “Just looked and then left.”

Greystripe finally spoke up with a snort. “Hey, Swiftpaw, maybe your assessment can be chasing the humans away.”

“I could totally do that.” Swiftpaw chuffed even with the overly confident tone. “They’d see skinny old me and pelt it for their house.”

“You’re not that skinny anymore,” Lizardtail said, gently pushing at Swiftpaw’s side. “Ravenwing is way thinner than you. And you’re not fighting any humans.”

“I could fight Terror right now,” Swiftpaw said, nudging Lizardtail back. “A human’s nothing for an assessment.”

“What’s Terror?” Ashkit asked, lifting his head from what remained of the chicken.

“Oh—” Swiftpaw looked down at him, calming down immediately. “It’s a spirit. Uh, a scary one. It shows up as the most frightening thing you can imagine. Kind of a test, I think.”

“Ohhhh,” Ashkit said, blinking blankly. He tilted his head. “Why’s it test you?”

“A ‘test’ is a way to put it, I guess,” Ravenwing said, adding to Ashkit, “In stories, a lot of cats have to face it down and overcome their fear to continue on their quest. It could be a monster, or a Titan, or a human, or an owl. Whatever scares you the most, it sees, and it turns itself into.”

Aspenkit mumbled something nervously, but Ashkit puffed out his chest. “Well, I’m not afraid of nothing. I can fight it!”

Brindleface nosed his ear. “You don’t fight Terror, baby. You just have to be very brave and stand your ground.”

Tawnykit squinted. “That doesn’t sound very hard.”

“It’s harder when it’s the thing that scares you the most,” Ravenwing said, and gave a dark imitation of Yellowfang’s smirk, muttering seemingly to himself, “I’d love to see my Terror. Big stupid ball of judgement.”

Greystripe bumped his head on Ravenwing’s shoulder. “You’re lucky the thing doesn’t exist, then.”

“It totally exists!” Swiftpaw exclaimed, looking shocked. “Why else would we have stories about it?”

“RiverClan’s got poems about talking squirrels,” Greystripe scoffed. “You don’t say those are real.”

“RiverClan’s dumb,” Swiftpaw said, missing Fireheart’s instant frown. “But everyone talks about Terror. WindClan, ShadowClan, everyone. It’s real.”

“I see it every day,” Ravenwing murmured to Fireheart.

Fireheart turned his head away from watching Greystripe and Swiftpaw argue to whisper back, “I don’t think you see it as much as you used to.”

Ravenwing opened his mouth like he was about to make another sardonic remark, then closed his mouth and turned his eyes to Snowpaw, who was sniffing at the remains of the chicken.

“No,” he said quietly. “I don’t. You’re right.”

Warmth—pride, really—bloomed in Fireheart’s chest and he mimicked Greystripe’s headbump to Ravenwing’s other shoulder. “You’re like a whole new cat these days, you know that? It’s amazing.”

Ravenwing made a very soft and calm version of a splutter. “I don’t know…”

“Would you, as an apprentice, have been able to even try and talk to Snowpaw, much less teach him anything?” Fireheart said. “Or tell a story to everyone in the Clan? Or…”

Or expose murders in a trial?

Fireheart swallowed that thought. “Or anything, really? You were too afraid to even talk to Greystripe when I met you.”

He gauged Ravenwing’s eyes, which had turned contemplative. His face was completely serene—something Fireheart didn’t think he’d ever see in his life.

“I just mean to say I’m proud of you,” he added. “We all are, but me and Greystripe especially.”

Ravenwing twitched his whiskers, his eyes still on his apprentice, tussling with Cloudkit.

“Thanks,” he said, and purred under his breath.

[your-local-bookworm]

Forgotten Faults.

PERCY JACKSON × DAUGHTER OF ARES!READER.

Part 1

Summary: Things get confusing when the son of Poseidon grows an unexplainable liking for a daughter of Ares who seems to be adamant on ignoring him

Request by : @riordanness

Warnings: Well, nothing. Except that this is my first time writing anything and also not proof read so, you know.

Part 2 is out!

Twelve year old and drenched. That was how Y/N Y/L/N first reached camp. Clutching her worn out rucksack to her chest, breathing heavy. That was also how she met thirteen years old Percy Jackson, even if it was a few weeks later.

Unknown to his conscience, Young Percy, harbouring and diving in unwanted emotions after a session with Chiron and the insufferable Zoe Nightshade, raised the tide and without wishing to let it wash over the new camper.

He had no intention to make a girl miserable, really. But how was he to explain that to Dionysus who accused him of disturbing peace with the young girl? How was he to explain to the girl who rushed away before he could gather his senses that he hadn't taken notice of her small form before the waves crashed and his eyes followed?

How was he to make amends with the fellow demigod when he was whisked away to a new quest the very next day.

When he returned Percy had already forgotten. Whatever poison he endured on his little adventure made a mess of his recent memories and he had merely see the face of the girl he dropped his wave on and only ever seen her clothed in water.He didn't even know who her godly parent was for the gods' sake! As given, he was unable to seek out the unfortunate camper with dark hair.... or was it red? Maybe Y/H/C. Surely you will forgive him and forget about it over time. He let it go, for now, and eventually from his memory.

Fourteen year old and Percy Jackson just returned to camp for the summer. That's when he saw her first. The girl who made his legs feel like Jell-O. She was sitting on the steps of her cabin, the ares cabin, dark hair raised by the winds and torched under the blazing Sun. To fourteen year old Percy, she looked magical. He had to tell Grover and Annabeth.

On a fine morning when the Sun was right above his head, making drops of sweat drip down his face, Percy was strolling alongside a lake, looking for company. Grover was away to meet his girlfriend and Annabeth occupied with counselor duties. Even Tyson claimed he had work to attend to! Turns out he was the only one with no jobs other than almost dying every summer.

Now generally, if you ask me I'll say that it isn't the smartest decision to let Percy Jackson, son of the sea god, to be his own devices because trouble truly seeked him out. But he's fourteen! and OH! look closely! Don't you think he's blushing? and a bit lost.

As said, Percy was indeed relishing the memories of a certain Ares girl, arguing against himself whether he should go talk to her.

Maybe the gods were prying into his thoughts, or perhaps Aphrodite was bored or Apollo wanted to mess with him. Only a few steps away, he noticed her small form. It brought back something into his mind: another girl and waves but whatever that was it slipped out when she looked at him.

Her Y/E/C eyes, sparkling under the golden sunlight that peeked through the canopy, strands of hair loosely waving in the breeze. Her hand stop scribbling in her small notebook, that he's seen her carrying around before t--

"Anything you want, Jackson?"

Percy shrugged. The poison might have been really bad. He searched for proper words but his brain denied him the service.

"Uh, no-" he gave his head a much needed shake, "I was just wandering around looking for something to help me pass the time."

"Oh, Alright. I hope you find something soon" and she focused back on your writing- drawing? what was she doing?

Percy wanted to talk to her. But she seemed uninterested. He knew he should leave, but after almost dying multiple times, he knew better than to do just that.

"So, what do you think I can do?" He asked, hoping

"Don't you have friends, Jackson? Why don't you go find Annabeth or you brother, uh Ty-"

"Tyson? He says he's busy. Annabeth had 'counselor duties' or something" he air quoted.

"Grover?"

"With his girlfriend."

"He has a girlfriend??"

"Juniper. She's a dryad"

"In that case take a walk by the strawberry fields, or train, work in the forgery? There's plenty to do in camp."

"Oh" Percy's brain adviced him to leave debating that he's disturbing her peace and this time he obliged "Okay then, I'll go find something to keep me busy. See you later"

"Yeah."

He left and over the course of next few days, before he was thrown away into the labyrinth for yet another quest, Percy established to himself that, for whatever reasons, Y/N Y/L/N was not at all keen to form a friendship with Percy Jackson.

[pensat-i-fet]

Selfie partner (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**I got a request recently to do an imagine where Rúben and the protagonist meet, rather than the couple dynamics I’m usually requested. And I don’t even know if I’ve ever done this in imagine format before, how crazy is that? Then I realized I had this little idea outlined and it worked well for the request so hopefully you enjoy reading something cute this Sunday! ❤️**

Word count: 2033

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Alright. Like this…no, the shirt looks bad. Maybe this way…”, Rúben’s attempts at modelling while on the lift were interrupted by the doors opening on the 8th floor.

“Good morning”, you said, holding a laugh after finding one of your neighbours doing a photoshoot there at 8 am. Not what you expected.

“Morning”, he said, slightly embarrassed by being caught.

When you reached the ground floor, you said goodbye and left. He stayed on the lift to go one floor lower to find his car, but you were taking the bus. And all the way to work, you kept thinking about that funny moment. And about how cute the guy from the lift was. No wonder he was taking photos of himself everywhere. All guys who looked like him probably did the same.

“Sorry”, you said when you couldn’t help but laugh.

The next day, you thought about leaving in the morning ten minutes earlier than usual so you could grab a cup of coffee on the way to work. Tea wasn’t enough after staying up late to grade exams. And Rúben…well, he wanted to avoid being embarrassed again so he also left ten minutes earlier so he could get the stupid selfies done. He actually liked the shirt he was wearing that day better so it all worked out perfectly…until the doors opened on the 8th floor again and you caught him taking more photos.

“It’s ok. I just…I have to do this because of my management. I don’t just take photos all the time”.

“Management? Are you a model?”, you could believe that. But also couldn’t believe your luck of living in the same building as a model. Were there more? You were just wondering.

“No, I’m a footballer”.

You cocked your head to the side, confused. “I didn’t know that was part of the job”.

“Yeah…”.

"You don't have to make up jobs, really. It's ok to feel cute and want to take a photo of yourself. I'm not judging".

And now you didn't believe him…

"Look", he said, showing you his Instagram profile and then laughing seeing your shocked face. "You really didn't believe me then".

"Well, men lie all the time to impress girls", you said, shrugging and making him chuckle. "I imagine many pretend to be footballers often".

"Probably, yeah".

When you reached your floor, you left again after wishing him a good day and once you were gone, Rúben realised he didn't even ask your name. Too busy trying to justify his lift antics.

But it turned out he didn't need to ask it because you couldn't help going back to his profile while bored on the bus. He was a legit footballer but also…yes, there were all the photos he had to take because of his management. Or so he said.

He had more than 2 million followers so he wouldn't notice one new follower, right? But he did, of course. Rúben was just checking his notifications when he saw a face that looked familiar. And after clicking on the profile, he saw that it belonged to his neighbour that kept interrupting his photoshoots in the morning. It was a private account, should he request to follow you? Sure, he had nothing to lose, did he? Worst case scenario, he'd have to start walking down the stairs. He could always use the exercise.

After accepting his request, you hoped to find him in the lift the following day but…he wasn't there. Of course, three days in a row would be too much of a coincidence but you couldn't lie and say you weren't at least a bit disappointed.

And so was Rúben. He almost thought about talking to you on Instagram but that would have been too much, right? You barely knew each other. He did check your account to see if you had posted something about that day. Maybe it was your day off? It said on your profile that you were a professor but he wasn’t sure what your work schedule would look like.

When you got back home, you were so exhausted. But when the doors to the lift opened, you saw Rúben there and couldn't help but smile.

"Hi, mister footballer".

"Hello, professor. We see each other on the way back from work today then".

"Gotta spice it up a bit, I guess".

"8th floor, right?”, he asked, ready to press the button and you nodded. "I'm on the 12th".

Why was he telling you that?

There was silence after that. You didn't know each other after all but you both wanted to talk and didn't know what to say.

When you reached your floor, the doors opened and you stepped out after saying goodbye to Rúben. But instead of hearing the doors closing, you heard them open again and saw him leave the lift.

"What…".

"Do you wanna do something together? Like…go for a drink or food or I don't know…".

"I would love that", you said, happy he took the initiative. "I was planning on going for a picnic tomorrow by myself. I wouldn't mind the company".

"That's a great idea. I have training in the morning but then I'm free all day".

"Well, you know where to find me", you said, pointing at your door and making him chuckle. "Pick me up at noon?"

"I'll be there".

                                      **

Saturdays were the days you took off completely unless something came up. And you loved going out to have some food somewhere, either by yourself or with some friends. Since the weather was good for once, you knew you wanted to take that chance to go to the park and enjoy the sun. And now you had a companion for your little picnic.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you liked what you saw. Your outfit was cute but nothing that screamed “I’m going on a date”. Even if you guessed, and hoped, this was a date.

You were putting your hair up in a loose ponytail when the doorbell rang and you walked to open the door and found Rúben there. Well…he really put a lot of effort into his outfit, making you feel insecure all of a sudden.

“I need to get changed”, you said, making him frown.

“Why? You look good”.

“But you look better. I didn’t know we had to dress up so much for a picnic”.

He laughed and shook his head. “Remember I’m the one who takes selfies on the lift, so obviously I’ll try harder. But really, you look great so let’s go”.

This time you both were going to the same floor and soon you were out of the building on your way to the park you had chosen for the picnic.

“I hope you like the food. It’s healthy…for the most part”.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine but tell me what you have on that basket. I’m curious”.

“Oh, you know. The typical things…I got some sandwiches, summer rolls, some pasta salad, lots of fruit and some chocolate snacks. And juice and water”.

“Perfect!”

The park was obviously very busy on such a sunny day, but you found a nice little spot without too many people around. Placing the blanket on the grass, you got comfortable and started to take out the food so you could start eating.

“I’m starving. I didn’t eat after training”.

“Help yourself, then”, you laughed.

“Why don’t you tell me more about you? I only know you’re a professor and that you’re my neighbour”, he paused after trying some of the pasta salad. “And you’re pretty good at cooking too. Good qualities to have”.

“Thank you. I do know a bit about you…I googled you. Don’t judge”.

He smiled at you, trying not to laugh since his mouth was full of food.

And so you told him more about you. Where you were from, what you taught in University, why you had moved to Manchester, …

“And I’m guessing you're single”.

“You’re guessing right, mister Dias. I hope you’re single too. I don’t want to be fighting angry girlfriends”.

“Didn’t you find your answer to that on your Google search?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Oh, I found a lot about your love life on my Google search. Hard to know how much I should believe, though”.

“Only believe the good. Always”, he laughed. And his laugh was so nice to hear that it always made you smile. “But yes, I’m single”.

“So the selfies weren’t for the posts your management wants you to do then. They were for Tinder. It all makes sense now”.

He snorted. “Will you help me choose the one that’ll attract all the pretty ladies? If you like them, then we know they’ll work”.

“I could help you take them too. Maybe we can add some shirtless photos too. You seem to like posting those and…well, I guess they are alright to look at”.

“Already asking me to take my clothes off. Wow! You move fast”.

“Sometimes”.

Anyone who saw you there would have known you two were flirting. The looks on your faces said it all. The smiles, the cheeky looks or the slight blush on both of your faces, but mostly on yours.

“Should we take a little walk around the park now we’re done eating?”

“Sure”, you agreed and with his help, you quickly tidied up and got up to go for that walk.

Rúben took the basket from your hands so he could hold it.

“Not as gentleman-like as you think because it weighs a lot less now, you know?”, you teased.

“Did I just lose points because of that?”

“One or two, yes. You should do something to get them back”.

“Like what?”

“Well, there are a few options. You could buy me an ice cream, you could carry me home later if my shoes hurt my feet or…you could give me a kiss? Your choice, really. Just offering some options”.

“Hmmm”, he pretended to think while turning to face you. “Ice cream sounds like the best option but I don’t see any places where we could buy it and those shoes actually look very comfy so I guess I’ll have to kiss you”.

“Poor you, it’s a big sacrifice but the points…”.

He interrupted you by placing a kiss on the tip of your nose, which made you laugh.

“That’s only half a point”.

“I have to do better then”.

He leaned down to kiss your lips and soon your arms were around his neck to help you kiss him better. One of his hands went to your waist while the other kept holding the basket until he got tired of not being able to hold you properly and dropped it, breaking your kiss for a second so you could laugh. And then you kissed again. Who cared about an old basket anyway?

“How many points was that?”

“Maybe…four? I don’t want you to get too comfortable by giving you too many”.

“Good…I love a challenge”.

                                     **

After that picnic date, there had been a few more. And now you texted each other every morning to know when to go to the lift and spend some minutes together before you both headed to work.

“You know”, you said one morning in between kisses. “We could take some selfies together. Not for your Instagram but for fun. It’s what made us talk to each other in the first place. It’d be cute”.

“Let’s do it”.

And when you were in the middle of taking another photo, the door opened on the 3rd floor and a neighbour looked at you with his eyebrows raised seeing the scene in front of him.

“I could wait if you’re busy…”.

“It’s ok”, you said, trying not to laugh. “We’re done. It’s for his Instagram. Not a model, just a footballer. This is part of the job apparently. Weird, I know”.

The neighbour kept looking at you two funny while Rúben pinched your arm and made you want to laugh even harder.

Minutes later, you were on the bus scrolling on social media when you got a notification for your Instagram that made you smile.

Rubendias

Finally found a selfie partner 📷

[lamelycool]

Done All Wrong

Spock x FemReader

An: uh...this didn't quite go as expected so I'm sorry lol. By time noticed it was off subject it was too late soooo I deciced to go ahead and finish it. But don't worry I'm working on a fic more on subject to what you requested! 😭

Request: Spock x Reader where reader works under Spock and is terrified/attracted to him and thinks he hates her bc of his blunt Vulcan behavior? But in the end discovers he secretly is attracted to her and feels protective of her.

Warnings: embarrassing situations, anxiety, and some adult language.

Summary: You have a certain pointy earred alien on your mind for multiple reasons. You should hate him like he hates you but you can't bring yourself to. Much to your dismay and embarrassing moments ensue as a result.

You sigh staring at the specimen in front of you. A boring plain leafed plant from one of the recent expeditions. Ordinary nothing special. Quite lackluster and disappointing. Not someone anybody would care for. Someone? Gosh you need a break, this is getting sad. Projecting your angst on to a poor little plant is defiantly a new low. You shake your head and sigh running a hand over your face. A few of your fellow science officers send concerned glances your way. You flush slightly embarrassed.

'I need to get back to work,' you think. You know that you can't keep pushing of your work because of your silly angst. Especially since Sp- he would notice. 'Don't need to give him a reason to nag me.' Well not like you'd have to give him one. Lately it seems all he can do is nag and belittle you. Critiquing each and every little thing that you do. And yet you still lov-

"Ugggh, get it together lieutenant and stop acting like a child." You groan under your breath aggravated.

You pick up your pad and look at the plant to continue your observations. Aroma? Earthy and warm. Size? 11.9 inches. Form? Stalky lean. Leaf shape? Spatulate. Flower color? You lean forward, silly black blossom. Your heart races but you take a deep breath and continue. Leaf color? A lovely shade of green. It reminds you of the faint flush of-

"Is everything alright?"

"!" You let out a gasp and whip around. And of course wouldn't you know it, it's the last person you'd want to see. The object of your frustration and affections, Spock.

Spock's eyebrow twitches up. "My apologies I did not intend to frighten you."

"No! No it's fine. I just wasn't expecting you to just show up so sudden is all..." You put a hand over your racing heart. You can feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You wish you could just disappear right now. Maybe if you ju-

"Lieutenant, are you well? You have been distracted since you arrived for your shift. Aswell as your excessive sighing and your flush cheeks. Are you sick? If so I will have to implore you to go to sick bay." Spock admonishes you.

"I- I am not sick! I admit I'm distracted but...It's not- I'm not sick." You stammer. You can't believe he's calling you out like this, so loud and very public. It's humiliating. Your can't even look him in the eyes anymore. Because you're certain if you did he'd peer into your mind and learn as to why you been so distracted. You'd rather die then for him to find out. He's already cruel enough. Gosh, how could this get any worse?

And you to your horror you realize, quite easily is the answer. While avoiding his burning yet apathetic gaze you notice your coworkers glancing at the scene. Judging and knowingly. Some whispering, some pointing. They all know. They know why. They can tell. Your feelings. Oh my god...Oh god...Oh god-

Spock either doesn't notice your panic or doesn't care because he continues to chew you out. "Are you certain? Because it appears you are flushing even worse now. But if you are not sick would you care to explain your actions? Particularly talking to the plant you are supposed to be inspecting. That is certainly not an action a healthy and sane person would take. Perhaps you need to see a counselor or be reliev-"

"Just stop!" You snap you can't help it. You're so overwhelmed. Everything is too much. All the eyes looking at you. And him. Why does he have to hate you so much. Why... Oh god and now you've yelled at him! You've just made this into an even bigger scene. Thank god there's not too many people in the labs this late at night. But everyone will soon hear about this...oh god you're fucked.

You begin to tear up. You look into his eyes finally. His eyebrows are raised almost holding an expression of shock and maybe concern? Who are you kidding as if he could care. Even if he could care he'd definitely not care for you.

"Why? Why do you hate me so...so-" you're cut off by a small cry that escapes. You quickly throw a hand over your mouth to stop any more from escaping. Tears begin to run down your face. You panic, you need to get out as soon as possible and spare yourself any further embarrassment. You dash out of the labs. Leaving behind a shocked and confused Spock.

°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°••~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°

"I simply do not understand why she was upest."

"You don't understand why she was upset? You don't- My god how could someone so smart be so stupid!" Leonard McCoy exclaims exasperated.

"You think that I am smar-"

"That is not the point you pointy eared hobgoblin! Goodness gracious...look." McCoy sighs and leans forward in his seat giving Spock a tired glare.

"You insulted and embarrassed the poor girl in front of all her lab rat coworkers. Hell if I was her I would have done a whole lot more to you then shout and cry. I'd give ya what for." McCoy states plainly punching his palm with his clenched fist.

"I see...it was not my intention to embarrass her nor do I hate her."

"You don't?" McCoy looks at him in disbelief.

"What? Of course I do not hate her nor harbor any ill intentions towards her."

"Goodness Spock... you sure have a way of showing it. Look, I talk to her. We're close and let me tell ya you've been giving her some hell. Ya leave her as ill as a hornet. If you don't hate her then why do ya insist on angering and embarrassing that poor little lady?"

"I- I was unaware I was angering or embarrassing her." Spock says quietly eyebrows furrowed and slightly lowered. Truly he would never wish to upset you. He just wants the best for you and to help you be the best you can be.

"My god...you like her don't you? Heh... Spock you're in deep." McCoy laughs at Spock's expense.

"Please do not tease me. What should I do?"

"Your asking ME for advice? I never thought I'd see the day. My my my you do have it bad."

Spock gets up to leave but is stopped my McCoy's hand that pushes him back into his seat. "Yer not goin anywhere. Sit right there I'm gonna grab some drinks. We're gonna need it."

•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°

"You've got five minutes to explain." You snap at him while leaning in your doorway.

Spock nods, " I am deeply sorry. It was not my intention to anger you or to embarrass you. Nor do I hate you, it is quite the opposite. I- I deeply enjoy your company and I find you fascinating. You make me feel although I do not know how to show it. But I will endeavor to do better if you could forgive me? And if you return my feelings?"

You stand in shock. There is no way this is really happening. "Pinch me."

"No, why would I wish to harm you? Did I not explain well enough I do not wish any form of harm or discomfort to you?" Spock says looking offended and confused.

"Nonono sorry, its just an expression. I just can't believe this is real. I must be dreaming."

"Dreaming?"

"Yes, because there is no way that this is real. That you're basically confessed to liking me and asking me out! No, its too crazy..."

"You are not dreaming. And yes I do 'like you'. I also would not mind if you would allow me to court you."

"I-I really?"

"Indeed." Spock looks at you. Wondering if he's made a mistake. Perhaps you don't feel the same? Or he's hurt you too much. Or any other reason.

"Yes! I mean, yes. I would like that very much. I've liked you for awhile now. Um but just please try not to be so mean?" You say with a bright beaming smile.

"Of course." Spock nods seriously.

"Can I please hug you? I'm just so happy!"

Spock nods and stoops down to wrap you in a gentle hug. You wrap yourself up in his lanky form. Maybe the plant is loveable after all.

@yoursparkdoll @lucycola

[fantasy-mixtapes]

Kristen Applebees S3 Playlist: Side A

Here's Part 1 of Kristen's Junior Year Playlist, I am obsessed with it so far and will probably continue to be. Descriptions and key lyrics below. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10

Genres include: Pop-Punk, Alternative, Punk, Folk

1. Lavender Bones, Stand Atlantic

I know I'm out of my depth, but I just float in it I try to do my best, stop picking fights with it I wanna be upset, you're not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it Try to speak my mind, wish it was by design But I can only confess to having doubts with it Don't wanna feel regret, I'm not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it

So this is a perfect background music for the start of a movie about Kristen's life right now and I LOVE finding those songs. It's perfect on so many layers, it talks about feeling trapped, wanting to fix empty habits, and not to mention how "lavender bones" really hits home to my queer little heart. This entire playlist is really a game of guessing when the "you" in songs chosen mean Tracker and when they mean Cassandra, level: impossible

2. Starchild, Sweet Pill

What do you want from me? I am not a charity Work hard at everything Do it all for free What do you want from me? I am not a guarantee Go all or nothing Lose your money ... Set up to win Wind up disappointing everyone In the end I am disappointing mostly myself In the end Hang your Head

I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS SONG Guys its like it was written for this very specific situation. AND THE TITLE???? FOR A CLERIC OF THE GODDESS OF MYSTERY, DOUBT, THE NIGHT, AND STARS???????

anyways just please please listen to it its so great like even without the connection to Kristen, go support Sweet Pill they have a new album being released tomorrow (March 15th)

3. Uneeda, Deady

What about the bones The bones have no problem Turn them into ash And this never happened Your ashes big asses Your brains on the pavement Oh no! I can feel myself rot Unless I take your hand

Ok so this is kind of a genre outlier on the playlist since it is very very alt punk but for me it represents the rage at the mall, Kristen's relationship to Cassandra, and both of their respective reactions to what happened. It's very chaotic, but it was a very chaotic situation and I stand by it plus I love adding modern bands to things

4. Bite the Hand, boygenius

I can't hear you You're too far away I can't see you The light is in my face I can't touch you I wouldn't if I could I can't love you how you want me to I can't love you how you want me to

Yeah, sorry had to whip out the queer break-up big guns. I don't feel sorry I feel right.

5. Untitled God Song, Haley Heynderickx

When you're drunk near a sunset, look straight in her eyes She's a quick glimpse of heaven, forgetting her headlights are on When you misread her fortune, don't misread the joke She's the note on your lampshade, the honeycomb holdin' you And she spins me around like a marionette Oh, my web is still spinnin' My web is still spinnin', you can't see it yet

Immediately going from having total contact with a divinity figure to having to grasp for straws once again to a memory you hold onto, literally holding onto the shards of your faith. Having to both embrace doubt and faith at the same time. Girlies, I'm ruined

6. C'est Comme Ça, Paramore

In a single year I've aged one hundred My social life a chiropractic appointment Sit still long enough to listen to yourself Or maybe just long enough for you to atrophy to hell ... I know that regression is rarely rewarded I still need a certain degree of disorder I hate to admit, getting better is boring But the high cost of chaos Who can afford it?

I love Kristen, and I think her arc this season is extremely relatable; currently, 90% of what she does are bits, and I KNOW it's a coping mechanism, but STILL, WHY ARE YOU SO MESSY. I love you; keep being 17, but god, keep your clothes on and stop going to the steel plants girlie you're gonna give Riz a heart attack

[jassackles]

The girl from London

Summary: Y/N is a British interior designer and architect who works for a company that has its headquarters in London but is well known in the US. So Jensen wants to surprise his parents and build them a new house at their favourite spot. When he meets her, it’s hard to listen to her when she talks about the design she’s planned, because other things about her seem more interesting.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female!reader

Warnings: fluff, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys)

“The architect really did a good, didn’t they?” Y/N says as she walks around the empty house admiring how it looks. “They definitely did.” Jensen says as he smiles at her. She took a look at the yard, her lip twitching slightly since in her opinion it looks horrible. “You also want me to redecorate the garden?” She asks curiously and politely. Jensen looks outside as well noticing how…how empty and boring it seems. “I’d like that.”

Y/N takes out her laptop to open up the program that helps her visualise her ideas for the interior design. “Do your parents have a special wish or taste?” She asks him curiously. Jensen watches her lips move more focusing on her accent than the words she’s actually saying. “Sorry what?” He shakes his head. “Do your parents have a special wish or taste?” She asks once more still politely because that’s what Britons are. “They like grey a lot.” He says as he thinks, if he’s being honest he has no clue what their taste is, that’s why he hired a freaking professionell. But how can she know? She doesn’t know his parents.

She sighs softly, “Alright.” She says and starts clicking and tapping on her laptop just to show him a little example. Jensen nods as he looks at the little draft she made within a minute. “I like that and I’m sure they’ll like it too.” He says with a smile. She returns the smile and chews on her lip as she gets back to drafting the whole house.

Jensen can’t help but watch her, her glasses are probably the cutest and sexiest thing about her, make her seem so hot and innocent at the same time. The blouse she wears gives him a lot of imagination, her tits seem like they’re perfect for his hands and the skirt? Oh well…the skirt fits her curves so well he couldn’t stop staring at her ass when he was showing her around the house.

“That’s my first draft.” She says a couple of minutes later. He blinks stopping himself from checking her out too much. He nods and looks at her laptop feeling quite impressed with her. She only needed like what, ten minutes maybe? And it’s looks awesome and comfy. A home he knows, his parents will love, especially his mom. His mom has a weak spot for little decorations and details and Y/N only showed him the future living room.

“If you want to change anything, please let me know.” She says softly as Jensen looks through the draft. “It’s awesome.” He says in awe. “Maybe Just the bed could be a different one.” He mumbles distractedly as he keeps looking at the different rooms. “Of course.” She nods and shows him different kinds of beds.

A few weeks later after meeting due to Y/N’s work Jensen finally brings up the courage to finally ask her out after drooling every time seeing and crushing on her. “Hey Y/N.” He says and she looks up from her laptop giving him a gentle smile. “Hey Jens.” She says softly.

If we’re being honest, she is crushing on him, too. But he’s her client, right? But she’s not from here, so no one would find out? Wrong. He’s a fucking actor, of course it would come out eventually, and when her boss will find out, oh well. Y/N chill out, nothing happened. She scolds herself mentally.

He smiles nervously at her, “So…uh, you wanna Hoyt for dinner…with me?” He asks hesitantly and even more nervously. And is he..blushing? She doesn’t know because she’s feeling pretty hot herself, the, the Jensen Ackles really just asked her out, has he?

“I’d love to!” She blurts out before she can change her mind, she’s only going to stay for one more week, so fuck it. But Jensen doesn’t know that she’ll be leaving in a week, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked her out.

He blushes deeply and smiles shyly, “I’m glad.” He says, feeling like a teenager all over again. I’m fucking 34, so get your shit together, Ackles, he thought.

She smiles with the same deep blush, thinking about how cutes he’s acting around her. “Me too. Pick me up at 7?” She asks him softly since she was about to finish work for the day. “Definitely.” He breathes out with a happy smile. Like a teenage boy. He cant believe, she said yes, and she can’t believe, he literally just asked her out, the guy she thought was the most handsome and cutest American guy she’s met. And she has met many American guys. They’re not comparable to the British men. But Jensen’s been a sweet and absolutely nice guy.

“See you then.” She says softly and kisses his cheek before disappearing, biting her lip as she gets more excited about her evening. Dean just stands there dumbfounded rubbing his cheek, like a teenage boy in some movie.

Dinner was great, even more than great, they laughed a lot and he learned so many new things about her. The thing he likes about her the most is probably her smile or her humour. She was so much fun talking to. The way she talks still fascinates him, her accent is so beautiful, kinda making her even more special than she already is to him.

“There we are,” She says as they get to the apartment complex she’s been living in for the past two months. Yes, it took Jensen two months to asks her out. She looks at the apartment building, not wanting the night to end so soon. “Do you wanna come up to my place?” She hears herself asking without thinking about it. His smile widens since he didn’t want the night to end so soon as well, “Sounds like a great plan.” He says as he takes her hand in his again, making her blush slightly.

If Jensen’s being honest, he really really likes her. He’s kinda falling for her, because she’s probably the nicest woman besides his mom. She’s so polite, it’s almost strange. Even his mom already likes her. His mom has already met her, because he kept talking about her and he kinda…slipped, ruining the surprise. Not that his parents weren’t happy, they were, his mom even started crying, but he wanted to surprise them when it’s done. It’s too late now anyway.

Y/N leads him inside her little apartment and Jensen smiles, since as soon as he enters her place her scent fills his nostrils. “Looks nice.” He comments softly as he enters. She smiles softly at him, “Thank you.” She says as he hangs up her coat. He smiles and takes his shoes and jacket off as well. “You want to drink something?” Y/N asks him as she leads him into the kitchen. “Maybe wine?” She suggests.

“Sure.” He says softly and smiles as she grabs two glasses. She fills the glasses with wine and smiles at him as he gets closer to her. She places the bottle of wine back on the counter as he stands in front of her. She looks up at him and smiles shyly, “Hey.” She whispers softly. “Hey.” He whispers back as he cups her cheek admiring how pretty and cute she looks in her glasses. She gets on her tiptoes as she closes the distance between them and presses her lips against his gently. He smiles against her lips as he kisses her softly.

Oh boy…the kiss feels much better than he has imagined, her lips are so soft almost pillowy. He pulls away a moment later resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.” He whispers softly as he smiles with closed eyes. She smiles shyly, “Really? Me too.” She says softly. He smiles and pecks her lips one last time before sitting down on the couch in her living room. “This sofa is so comfy.” She says as she sits down. Even though she sits on it quite often, she likes the feeling of it. “I can agree on that.” Jensen says with a nod holding his glass before taking a sip and placing it on the coffee table.

“So how do you like it here?” He asks a few moments later smiling at her. “Here in the US?” She asks her accent coming through again. He nods and smiles softly. “It’s pretty great, I really like it here.” She says softly her smile faltering a bit as she thinks about that she has to leave in a week. Jensen frowns noticing slightly, “But?” He asks her softly.

She looks up from her glass, “I have to leave in a week.” She confesses finally. His eyes widen and he swallows hard, feeling his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. “What?” He breathes out, causing her to take deep breath. “My visa ends and I have to get back to work in London.” She says softly with a small smile, actually feeling sad about leaving. “Oh…” He mumbles sadly as he looks at his glass of wine. “I’m sorry, I probably should’ve mentioned it earlier.” She says with an apologetic smile and look.

“I-It’s okay.” He says with a kinda hurt smile. Every woman he likes or thinks is great, has to leave or isn’t interested in him. So that she has to leave now too, make him feel desperate since he really has hoped, especially tonight, that there could be more than a date, maybe a relationship. He sighs quietly to himself, since he really was looking for more with her. She notices how sad he looks, “I-I am really sorry, Jensen.” She says softly as she scoots closer wrapping her arms around him.

He hugs her back and captures her lips with hers, wanting to feel her close at least once before she slipping away from him, his dream girl. She kisses him back feeling just as sad as he does, because she really likes Jensen. He’s such an awesome guy and she really wants to know where their ‘thing’ would’ve led them. If she’s being completely honest with herself, there’s nothing that keeps her in London. Her brother lives in Australia, her mom’s travelling the world after her dad dies last year due to cancer and her friends? They’re all busy with being pregnant, taking care of their kids and being with their husbands. So? She’s just the workaholic who throws herself into work, because there’s no one waiting for her at home. But she’s being ridiculous now, if she immigrates to the US, she would have no job, apartment or money for the move.

His lips feel so incredibly good as she kisses him hugging him close as he pulls her on his lap making him sigh at the feeling of her so close to him. She feels perfect just in his arms already. He just wants to feel all of her at least once. His hands move smoothly over her back as she sighs against his lips caressing his chest gently.

He lowers her on the couch as he slowly gets on top of her kissing her gently yet passionately as he caresses her sides. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him closer to her sighing against his lips as she makes out with him lazily. No rush, just two people enjoying each other.

After making out for a while Jensen pulls away admiring her kiss swollen lips pecking them one last time, “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom.” He whispers softly as he caresses her cheek. She bites her lip and nods before getting up from the couch, turning the lights off in the living room and kitchen. She takes his hand in hers as she leads him to her bedroom. Jensen stops in the middle of her bedroom pulling her flush against him as he starts kissing her again caressing her cheek as Y/N slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt.

He helps her by shrugging it off his shoulders, leaving him shirtless. Y/N can’t help but stare at his abs and trace them with her finger tips, he just became twice as hot as he was before. He blushes a bit and lets out a small chuckle, “What?” She looks up at him with a smile, “You’re just really hot.” She breathes out and starts kissing him again. He blushes deeply, kissing her passionately as his hand reaches behind her back to unzip her dress. The dress falls to the ground. Jensen feels her naked tits suddenly brush against his chest and he cups one of her breasts squeezing firmly, twisting her nipple.

Their clothes are gone soon and they’re making out in her bed lazily, touching and exploring each other’s bodies. Jensen slowly gets on top of her whole making out with her and positions himself between her legs. “Is this okay?” He whispers against her lips and she smiles at how gentlemen-like he’s being. “Yeah.” She whispers softly and smiles against his lips when he kisses her again. He slowly enters her causing her to sigh at how good he feels inside her.

He kisses her neck gently as he lets her adjusts and starts moving a moment later, sighing at how well her pussy wraps around his cock. “F-Fuck.” He breathes out already feeling close at how good she feels and it’s been some time since he had a good pussy. She hums in response and wraps her legs around him, “Faster.” She breathes out. He doesn’t need to be told twice when he starts thrusting faster making her roll her eyes back at how good he feels.

They’re having sex for like two minutes and Y/N can tell it’s the best sex she’s ever had. Okay…she’s had sex with like…4 guys, so not so many, now 5 guys though. But Jensen’s been the best at foreplay and during sex. He found her clit immediately during making out and circled his finger right, not like the other guys who didn’t even found her clit.

Jensen sits up ok his knees and grabs her thighs firmly as he starts thrusting harder. She moans loudly when he starts pushing against her g-spot and her back arches off her bed. He groans at the sight of the face she’s making, you literally can see the pleasure written all over her face. He cups her tits squeezing them firmly as he thrusts even faster and harder, making her clench around his cock. “O-Oh,“ she moans as she feels the knot in her stomach tighten. Jensen groans since he’s been holding back since the moment he put his cock inside her.

He circles her clit and she moans his name softly at the feeling, moaning his name softly. Jensen feels his cock twitch at the sight of her and he’s trying so hard to not just cum inside her right then. He circles her clit a bit faster and Y/N feels her toes curl as she suddenly comes on his cock, squeezing so tight around his cock that it sends Jensen right over his edge with her. Her name slips from his mouth so soft it’s barely audible.

Panting fills the room as they both calm down from their highs smiling lazily at each other before Jensen pecks her lips softly. He gets off her and and plops down next to her pulling her tightly into his chest as he starts playing with her. He feels sad about that she’s really leaving so soon, for his liking it’s too soon he just wants her to stay in the States and not go back to stupid London.

There they are, at the airport, saying their goodbyes. Jensen’s gonna miss her so much that it already hurts just thinking about it. They’ve spent the last weeks having sex…a lot and spending every second with each other doing nice things together. So he’s gonna miss her, but he knows their little ‘thing’ won’t be more due to distance.

“You really need to leave?” Jensen asks softly as he squeezes her hand gently, watching and admiring her face one last time before he proudly won’t see her ever again. She gives him a gentle smile, “Unfortunately yes.” She says softly. The last few weeks there has been some thought on staying in the US, but it’s a big step she need to discuss with her mom when she’s back. Y/N really wants to stay, but now is not her time. She’s gonna miss Jensen a lot, he became so close to her in such a short time.

He pouts and sighs slightly, which causes her to pout back at him. “Unless you wanna bloody marry me.” She says playfully since she cants stay because her visa expires tomorrow. Jensen’s head perks up again, “I’ll do it!” He shoots causing Y/N to frown. “Bloody hell…what?” She stutters. “I’ll marry you right now.” He says. “Jensen, I was just kid-“ She starts. “I mean it.” He interrupts her. “You can’t do that.” She shakes her head. “Of course I can.” He tells her.

So what the fuck now?

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me now in the comments what you think and if you want a part two!

Also thanks to Wayne for the dividers! <3 @waynes-multiverse

tags: @leigh70 @jensensgirl @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl2

[mybookstorecarlovinghusbands]

Forever Starts Tonight

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley take on a whole new adventure!

Pairing: Aziraphale x Crowley, Nephilim!Daughter!Reader

Warning: Angst, fluff, the whole shebang. The use of Y/n. Mentions of torture and injuries. ALSO was written based on what information we had back when S1 came out, so this doesn't correlate with what happened in S2.

Notes: THIS WAS WRITTEN BACK IN 2019 and I just logged back into this account after Season 2 so I didn't even realize this was in my draft until now 🙃

It’s kind of a Supernatural!AU, given that their lore is different from Good Omens’ lore so I mixed it up a little. Read the narrative in our Frances McDormand's God voice. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

This story all starts when the demon Crowley is waiting for his angel, Aziraphale, to return to his -now their- flat from ‘an expedition of finding the Holy Grail of exquisite books’... the angel’s words, not Crowley’s. The demon himself was bored while waiting up for Aziraphale, so he ordered Chinese and began to channel surf to see what was on television. It wasn’t long after that did he hear the door open and close within seconds of each other, causing Crowley to look up from the couch to see Aziraphale standing in the doorway with a bundle of pink blankets nestled in his arms.

“Oh, somebody's sake, no. Not again.” 

“I can explain!” The angel squeaked out right away, clearing his throat nervously as Crowley just leans further into the couch while eyeing him expectedly through his shades, eyebrows raised in question.

After several moments of utter silence, Crowley’s lips caved into an amused smirk, “I’m waiting.”

“Right! Yes, well, um,” Aziraphale cleared his throat again, “I heard rumors. Rumors around Heaven and I was curious, I couldn’t help it. What I’m saying is that it’s not my fault and I couldn’t just leave her there and-!”

“Alright alright, slow down, Angel. No need to accidentally combust and set the child aflame,” Crowley waved off while pushing himself to stand up, leaning on one hip lazily while eyeing the pink blankets, his hands digging into his pockets, “Now what rumor exactly are those panty-twisting winged bastards spreading up there?”

“Oh! Uh... well,” Aziraphale tries to smile, his free hand reaching up and unwrapping the blankets to reveal the tiny pink face that Crowley was expecting to be under the bundles but in all honesty, even he admits that he wasn’t prepared for how disgustingly cute she was. She was definitely cuter than Adam when he was a baby, and he could confirm that as Aziraphale continued, “What I heard was that Gabriel had been with a human.”

“He, what?” Crowley sputtered, utterly shocked, “Are you telling me that that’s a Nephilim? A child of a human and a bloody angel?”

“Technically, an archangel, but yes,” Aziraphale hummed, unknowingly swaying his own body to gently rock the baby in his arms, “I didn’t believe it at first. Gabriel is always against such things, but, now that I think about it, she was conceived around the time Armaggedon was supposed to happen and Gabriel was pretty furious at the time.”

“So he took his frustration out on some poor woman?” Crowley answered his own question with a deep whistle, “That’s low, even for me.”

“I know,” Aziraphale smiled softly, and Crowley wished he could take it back just to spite him, but quickly swallowed down that idea as he watches the angel practically beam down at the baby while whispering sweet nothings to the sleeping infant.

The fact that Crowley thought it was such a beautiful scene horrified him as he quickly clears his own throat to grab Aziraphale’s attention again, “So what exactly are you doing with the Nephilim?”

The angel sighs in defeat, “Well, unfortunately, Y/n’s mother... passed away after giving birth to her and, well, you know Gabriel, so I just thought--”

“Did you seriously name the poor thing Y/n?” Crowley smirked ever so slightly, walking around the couch to meet the angel in the doorway.

“N-No!” Aziraphale stammered, “Her mother did right before she died. I wouldn’t dare change it if that’s what her mother wanted.”

“And so you just decided that we would take her in, a Nephilim, and raise on our own like some normal human family?”

Aziraphale swallowed something sharp in his throat as he looked down at the baby instead of Crowley, absolutely terrified at what expression he might see. Although he will admit, he was curious about the wording of ‘we’ since he said no such thing of the two of them raising this child together. He knows that Crowley has always been about ‘us’ and ‘our side’ but Aziraphale wasn’t sure just how far Crowley was willing to go in doing things together. He would understand if Crowley was against this, given that if she wanted to, one day, Y/n could just burn a demon such as himself alive just by looking at him. Nephilim were extraordinarily powerful beings, and that is why it’s illegal for angels to procreate with humans. They’re extremely dangerous when provoked. Granted, not as powerful as the Antichrist but still, terrifying. 

“I- I- I mean,” Aziraphale flushed, “My thoughts were that if she was left to be adopted by a normal human family, further down the road they would realize that she’s not normal and then we would have a lot of trouble on our hands from both of our sides.”

“Again, we’re on our side now,” Crowley stared down the bridge of his nose at the angel, “And do you remember the last time we tried helping a child?”

“Warlock was different. We thought he was a ticking time bomb.”

“This is a Nephilim. It’s not that much different.”

“But with Warlock, we were trying to force life lessons on him while trying to cancel each other out. We practically broke the poor boy in the process.”

“If you can even call that boy 'poor,'” the demon muttered, “So you’re saying that when a demon and an angel work together to raise a child it would have a much better outcome?” The grin on Crowley’s face was smug, Aziraphale knew it was, given that to counter his question, the angel would have to admit that they do, in fact, make a great team as Crowley’s been saying for 6,000 years.

“Yes,” Aziraphale blurts out sternly, lips frowning in defeat as he pouts, “Go ahead. Gloat. Say ‘I told you so’.”

“I could, but then it wouldn’t be as fun now would it?” Crowley beamed, “What sounds even more fun is pinning it against you for the next eighteen years of this little squirt’s life.”

~~~~~~~~~

And so it was that an angel named Aziraphale and a demon named Crowley took Little Y/n in and raised her as their own. Of course, there were a few bumps in the road along the way, but nothing the three of them couldn’t fix together. Over the years, they live the best life that neither angel nor demon could possibly believe could happen to them.

Crowley ends up being the best father a girl could ask for. When baby Y/n was hungry at night, Crowley was already up and ready to feed her. When she asked for a tricycle, in an instant, it was there against Aziraphale’s wishes. Even when Y/n fell off that damn thing time and time again, Crowley either pretended to fall with her so she wouldn’t feel embarrassed or he would encourage the best way that he could... through temptation. So what Y/n had some trouble sleeping those first few nights after getting that tricycle because Crowley had given her candy every time she succeeded?

She first started calling Crowley 'Dad' and Aziraphale 'Papa' by the time she was five, and it was around that time when her angel father consulted with her demon father about her powers.

“Perhaps this is a good age to teach her how to control her gifts?”

“Absolutely not,” Crowley muttered, practically pouting while leaning against the wall and glaring into nothing. And before Aziraphale could blink, that discussion was over. 

When Y/n was old enough, borderline sixteen, she even dyes her hair to look more like Crowley than Gabriel, the girl only ever wanting to resemble the beings who raised her compared to the one who helped create her. When she went to her dads the next morning to show her work, Aziraphale was more fond than angry for dying her hair, commenting on how she looked so much like her father. Crowley, on the other hand, was falling off his chair while laughing, clutching his sides and yelling, “That’s my girl!” He always knew she was the rebellious sort. In secret, he was trying his best not to cry, touched by the influence he had on his child.

By the time Y/n was a teenager, Crowley still did not want to discuss the possibilities of teaching his daughter how to control her powers. And for the life of him, Aziraphale couldn’t understand why. Y/n knew of her abilities. Her dads didn’t hide her from any truths once she was old enough and understood what she was and what she was capable of doing by the time she was sixteen. By then, she had also wondered why Crowley did not want to teach her. After fruitless efforts into getting him to do so, Y/n had gotten angry because she believed that her father was wanting to hold her back from her true potential, or even worse, she believed that he thought she was a monster. And being that she was so close to her Dad, the thought of how he might fear her practically broke the teenager’s heart and she ran away, her special blood giving her the cloak she needed to hide from her otherwordly dads.

When they were unable to find her right away, Aziraphale and Crowley got into the biggest fight they have ever had in their shared existence, and it ended with the angel leaving in a huff to go and keep trying to find their daughter. In his rage, Crowley also left the house to try to blow off some steam and find Y/n. 

He was walking for a while, unable to drive since Aziraphale took the Bentley. It was a little petty, maybe, but Crowley begrudgingly admitted to himself that he was proud of the angel's pettiness. As he turns the corner and walks down an alley, he scrunches his eyebrows and hears movement behind him, causing Crowley to turn around just as two demons appear directly behind him. Before he could react, Crowley is tackled to his knees and restrained, and, to his hidden horror, was restrained with chains that had definitely been dipped in Holy Water, as the cold feel of metal begun to sting and seep into his skin. Looking up, the rogue demon noticed a third figure with his attackers, and his upper lip twitched at the sight of him.

Hastur’s lips curl into a smile while having the pleasure of watching Crowley’s confident demeanor give way when those snake-like eyes look over his shoulder. Knowing what Crowley was seeing behind him, Hastur happily watched the restrained demon's face fall at the sight of two more demons dragging his daughter down the alleyway by both of her arms as she cries out, “Dad?”

Hastur laughs as Crowley’s first reaction is to fiercely fight against his restraints, ignoring the pain of the Holy Water bathed chains as he growls and hisses at the Duke of Hell, snake eyes blazing with hellfire, “You tell them to get their filthy hands off of her RIGHT. NOW! Or I’ll--”

“Do what, exactly? Die trying to get out of chains meant to burn through your fleshy form?" The demons all laughed at Hastur's joke and he just beams proudly, "It's nice to see you're not as immune to Holy Water as you claimed to be. I don't know how you managed to survive that bathtub, but I can assure you that we'll never make the mistake of that again."

Crowley ignores the fact that he's been exposed and tries focusing on his child, “Darling, where’s your father?”

"I don't know!" She cried helplessly, the grip the demons had on her arms slowly starting to cut off circulation, her fingertips growing numb. Her demon father wanted nothing more than to return the favor and cut off their own arms to see how they'd feel. Instead, he tried not to get violent and focus more on her little, sweet, snot-and tear-ridden face while she sobs, "I'm sorry--"

"Don't be, love," Crowley tried to speak as gently as possible, despite the fact he could smell his skin beginning to burn and give way to the chains, "It's not your fault."

"You've been keeping low under the radar for a while, Crowley," Hastur interrupted, "How long has it been? Sixteen years? Now that I look at her," he makes a point to stare at Y/n, causing Crowley's skin to crawl with the expression on Hastur's face, full of ill-intent and evil ideas, "I can see why we haven't heard from you. It’s remarkable, actually. You took in a disgraced offspring of some human and an archangel just shortly after betraying your own kind?"

"Don't listen to him," Crowley didn't mean to snap, immediately regretting it when Y/n flinched. He wasn't sure if it was from his hiss or Hastur's words, either way he wanted nothing more to hold and comfort his child.

Hastur and the other demons continue to laugh, "You have two options. You can try fighting your way through your torturous bonds and allow your daughter to watch you slowly die in front of her. Or... you can tell us what we need to know.”

"Such as?" Crowley growled like a hellhound, pulling against its chains and ready to be released on its target.

"Where is the angel Aziraphale? Heaven has also reported his absence for sixteen years. One could wonder..." Hastur's eyes flick back to Y/n, "That isn't a coincidence. Did you finally move in with the boyfriend, dear Crowley?"

Crowley decided he didn't want to entertain this group of clowns any further, trying to conjure all his willpower and miracle a small, barely conceivable time stop, like the one he made to speak to Adam before Satan's arrival. It wasn't as strong due to his pain, but he immediately spoke directly to his daughter once he noticed Hastur's mouth stopped moving, and the other demons stopped laughing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Y/n's eyes briefly widen. She wasn't sure she could remember the last time Crowley apologized for anything. He sometimes did that little apology dance both he and Aziraphale created whenever they were wrong about something, but those were miniscule apologies compared to this.

Crowley's words were desperate and bled just as deep as the chains currently burning their way through his flesh, "I told Aziraphale that I never wanted you to learn how to use and control your powers because I didn’t want you to be anything like me, like him, or any angel or demon in this universe. I just wanted you to be... to be, like... like YOU."

Both father and daughter had matching tears falling down their cheeks, and through his desperation, Crowley found determination as well. Determined to get Y/n to see herself as he saw her. Strong and sure of herself, as confident as her papa, the very angel he loved dearly and hoped he would get to see again before the Holy Water reached his heart, "But I realize now that I was only holding you back in becoming you because those powers are what make you who you are. And right now, I need you to do that. I need you to focus. Burn away these bonds, and we can get out of here and find your father.”

"I-- I can't do that!" She exclaimed, her words shaking as she noticed the demons around them slowly beginning to move again, her father's intervention starting to fail due to his dying strength. "I don't know how!"

"You can!" Crowley had noticed, too, and the pain was becoming unbearable. He desperately wanted to be free of these chains, but more importantly, he desperately wanted his daughter free and running away, far from here and hopefully to Aziraphale, "You can and you will! Or else they'll take you somewhere your father can't follow. Aziraphale won't know where to look, and without me, he won't ever be able to get into Hell to save you! You have to try, Y/n!"

She was crying again, unable to breathe as the time was slowly beginning to restart. Hastur's movements were almost comically slow, snail-like as he full-bodied, turned to directly face Crowley. By the time Hastur was staring directly down at the rogue demon, time had fully restarted again, and the demons who ambushed Crowley were none the wiser.

Hastur grinned, "So what'll it be, old friend?"

"Even if I knew where the angel was, I wouldn't tell you," Crowley snarled, "I haven't spoken to Aziraphale in years."

"6,000 years on this planet, and you don't seem to know how to lie any better," Hastur snarled, turning back to stare at Y/n, "Very well. You're never too young to watch your dear old daddy turn into a puddle of goo."

"NO!"

A blast of light, blinding as the sun, bursts through the alleyway. Even with his shades, Crowley still had to close his eyes, his ears bombarded with a chalkboard-scrapping screech followed by men screaming in anguish. Even when the noises stopped and the light subsided back into a night sky, Crowley's ears still rang, and his vision was spotted. He blinked rapidly, faintly noticing that his shades were cracked and lopsided on his face. When he was finally able to look around, he couldn't find Hastur or the other demons. Instead, small piles of ash replace where they all once stood. The rogue demon's senses fully return, and he groans when hot, searing pain begins to make itself known. Looking down, he noticed the chains were now beating red and hot to the touch, sparking when the links rubbed together.

"Dad!" Y/n shouts, rubbing her sore arms as she runs to Crowley, who still knelt on the ground in shock.

Her voice snaps him out of it, and he raises his voice in warning, "Y/n, wait, you'll burn-!"

But, when Y/n touched the chains, nothing happened. She didn't pull away in pain, and he couldn't see any burn marks on her hand as she helped him shrug away the restraints. She's careful not to let the chains touch his skin anymore than they already were, and once the chains were removed, she immediately reverts back to crying as she sunk into her demon father's arms.

"Alright. Alright..." Crowley grunts, still in pain but holding his girl in his embrace regardless, taking deep breaths as he tried to relax, "It's alright now, love. You did it."

They stayed there, knelt on the ground of the alleyway for who knows how long, the only sound being a dog barking and car alarm going off in the distance, likely startled by Y/n's outburst.

The car and dog weren't the only ones her burst of energy signaled. Crowley picked up a different car sound, the rumbling of a familiar engine in the distance, quickly drawing closer. A smile finally emerges on his face, squeezing Y/n tighter and releasing her when he hears the sound of a car door slamming shut just down the alley.

"Y/n?!" Aziraphale appeared, eyes widening when he not only found his daughter, but his dearest as well, both collapsed on the ground and surrounded by ash and scorched earth. Immediately, the angel's footsteps pick up, "Y/n! Crowley!"

"Papa!" Y/n cried, sinking into Aziraphale's embrace when the angel sunk to his knees to join them on the ground. The teenager sobs into the angel's lapels, gasping between cries, "Dad... Dad's hurt."

Aziraphale's eyes immediately flick up to Crowley's, although it was proven difficult when the demon's cracked sunglasses got in the way. Keeping one arm around his daughter, Aziraphale leans into Crowley's space, taking the dark shades off to get a good look at those beautiful, snake-like yellow eyes, "My dear... are you alright?"

"Hm," Crowley's grin was lopsided, loopy like a lovesick loon, "Better now that you're here, Angel."

Y/n hiccups out a small laugh, and Aziraphale scowls while rolling his eyes. The sight of their reactions could fuel Crowley another 6,000 years if needed. Recognizing the burn marks of Holy Water, Aziraphale performs a quick miracle with the flick of his wrist, and before Crowley could blink, he's back to normal, tired but otherwise unharmed. He sinks into Aziraphale without a second thought, joining Y/n in tucking their faces into either sides of the angel's neck and staying there with no intent of leaving.

Aziraphale doesn't complain, unaware of what happened, but allowing his two loves to stay where they are, safe under his arms and wings.

[jusvibbbin]

Deep Denial

Ed Mercer x Female!Reader

“Lay in a course for…”

Captain Ed Mercer could barely pay attention to what Commander Grayson was saying as he gazed at the newly transferred navigator. Lieutenant (Y/N). She was cute, a bright and eager smile was on her face when she first came onboard. He’d never admit it, but from that moment on, she took up a significant portion of his thoughts.

It didn’t help that she seemed to be getting along well with the rest of the bridge crew, Gordon taking a shine to her instantly. Which led to him inviting her to get drinks with a few of them after shift. Which led to the events of the previous night…

After a long and fairly boring day, about half the bridge crew was in the mess having a drink. Gordon, in his infinite wisdom, had insisted on saving Ed a seat, so he had to sit in between his helmsman and his new navigator. He walked in while Gordon was telling some long and highly embarrassing story from their time at Point and he tried not to groan as he sat down. 

“Yeah and then Ed totally fell in the pool. It was nuts!” The table chuckled collectively as Ed just shook his head and jerked his thumb towards the new navigator.

“Trying to humiliate me in front of the newbie?”

“Always, man,” the ginger chuckled before launching into another tale. Ed had glanced over to find said newbie eyeing him. She looked flustered at getting caught, burying her face in her glass as he looked back at his friend, the smallest of smiles on his face.

As the night winded down, he offered to walk her to her quarters.

It’s the captain-ly thing to do. I’m just being nice. It’s on the way.

All not quite lies but not total truths as they walked in silence.

“So…how do you like it so far?”

“Oh! Uh, I mean it's only been a couple days…”

“Right, duh sorry.” He kicked himself a little.

“Everyone has been really nice so far, if that’s any indication,” she offered.

“Sounds about right. Can’t be hard to be nice to someone so-” His brain finally stopped his tipsy train of thought dead in its tracks, but (Y/N) had looked at him expectantly as they stopped in front of her door.

“Well uh, this is you. See you tomorrow, Lieutenant,” he had quickly, and loudly, announced before high-tailing it out of there.

“Ed?”

“Hm?” He pulls himself out of his thoughts with a little start, looking over at Kelly and her quirked eyebrow.

“Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He nods but has no idea what she asked him. Kelly relaxes back into her seat so it must’ve been the right answer and Ed attempts to shake off his wandering thoughts for the remainder of the day.

Later that day Ed is in the mess, sharing a beer with the empty chair across from him as he looks over daily reports. His attention is quickly stolen by a flash of orange moving near him. As he glances behind him, he can see his new navigator taking a seat at the table over with some other lieutenant dressed in green. He quickly looks back at his work, not wanting to seem weird, but a small, quiet part of him wishes he could look at her for longer.

“How are you liking it here so far?” The other woman asks.

“I mean, it's okay,” she answers hesitantly. “I’m just worried I’m not gonna find my fit here, Lux.” He can hear the other woman, presumably called Lux, hum in response. He knows he definitely shouldn’t be eavesdropping but he can’t help being a little nosey.

“What do you think of the bridge at least?’

There’s a short pause as she seems to think over her answer.

“I like everyone, I think. Lieutenant Malloy is pretty funny.”

“Sounds like you’re interested. He’s cute!” 

“No, no, no. Not like that,” she chuckles awkwardly.

“Good. I’ve already called dibs,” Lux chuckles, and Ed can almost feel (Y/N)’s eyeroll.

“Have at it. No, I think I would rather wait for Ed.”

Said captain chokes on his beer as the two women look over at him.

“Are you alright, sir?” The navigator gives him a look of concern that he attempts to wave off.

“I’m fine,” he insists. Both women eye him warily before turning back to their conversation.

“Yeah, I would rather wait instead. Someone can approach me, you know?”

Ed flushes a bright red as he curses himself softly. He had completely misheard her and now he felt rather foolish. He quickly gathers his things, deciding it’s probably for the best that he avoids Lieutenant (Y/N) for the time being as he hastily exits the mess, much to the confusion of the two women.

--

Unfortunately for Ed, avoiding social interaction is easier said than done. Gordon’s birthday rolls around only a week later and the captain finds himself heading to his ginger friend’s quarters. As he heads in, he’s instantly amused at seeing Lux chatting up the birthday boy as the bridge crew and a few people from engineering mill about. He scans the room as he moves to drop his present on the table, spotting (Y/N) speaking with Talla. He’s content to look for a moment before moving to get a drink.

“Oh, good idea,” he can hear Gordon say to the woman before addressing the whole group. “Truth or dare,” he calls. Most everybody moves towards the couches and Ed makes his way over to sit on the floor by the coffee table. A few timid rounds pass as he works his way through a couple beers before John dares Gordon to kiss someone. The ginger man grins before grabbing Lux’s face and planting a kiss on her lips. There’s a couple little oohs before he pulls away, and the woman’s flushed face only makes his grin wider. Ed rolls his eyes, finishing off a beer as his friend points at him.

“Truth or dare, Ed?”

He does his best not to groan, tipsiness already taking over his body.

“Uh, truth?”

“Lame!” John heckles as Gordon waves him off.

“Okay uh… when did you have your first kiss?” He grins at Lux who just playfully rolls her eyes.

Ed pauses for a good few moments, trying to really answer the question.

“I was twenty I think? Which I know is pretty late, but I thought it should be like special so I was saving it. I don’t think that anymore. In fact, I keep kissing people when I should be saving them for something special. Not like that’s happened anytime recently… I don’t know.”

He flushes a deep red when he realizes he’d started rambling, sharing way more than was asked or that anyone would be comfortable with. He wants to just about die when he looks up and locks eyes with (Y/N), looking at him with concern. He chuckles awkwardly as his eyes dart to literally anyone else and land on Bortus. “Truth or dare, man.”

“Dare. It is the only option.”

“I uh… dare you to eat that,” he points at one of Gordon’s couch pillows, getting up to slip away during the chaos as the birthday boy tries to wrestle the pillow out of the Moclan’s hands.

--

After the incredibly awkward exit from the night before, Ed is doing his best to avoid as many party goers as he can. He’s doing well, staying at home for most of the day, until Kelly calls him to pick up some reports with no time to drop them off. He groans but gets into some casual clothes to go to his XO’s office. It’s a quick trip, and he’s almost home free when he spots a couch in the middle of the corridor. He pauses, looking around for an owner before Lieutenant (Y/N) pops out of her nearby quarters.

“Oh, captain!” She stands at attention as he waves her to relax.

“Making the place a home?”

She chuckles awkwardly, nodding.

“I’m trying, but clearly it’s not going well…”

He mulls over his next words very carefully.

“Let me help you,” he offers with a smile.

“You don’t have to! I wouldn’t want you to waste your free day!”

“I’ve moved a few couches in my day,” he tries to joke before calling over a few crewmen to help him lift her sofa and move it into her living room area. Once it's in the perfect spot and the other crewmen have left, Ed goes to take his leave.

“Thank you again, captain.”

“Really, it's no trouble, Lieutenant,” he assures with a smile. “What was I gonna do? Let a pretty girl like you move it all by herself?”

The heat rises to each of their faces simultaneously as the silence between them thickens.

“I should uh,” he gestures back to the door.

“Yeah, I really need to uh,” she gestures back into her quarters.

Ed gives her a tight-lipped look and nods as he skedaddles his way home, beyond embarrassed.

--

A few days later and Ed is still doing his best to avoid looking at (Y/N) whenever he can. But it’s even more noticeable on the bridge and Kelly can’t help but mention it to someone else as she heads towards the shuttle bay with Gordon.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” The ginger looks over at her questioningly.

“Ed seem weird with the new girl?”

“Oh thank god, let’s talk about it.”

Kelly chuckles as they get into the elevator.

“Yeah, he’s been really weird this whole week. I think he likes her.”

“No, he definitely does,” Gordon nods as the doors open and they walk into the bay.

“Maybe… No, I don’t want to overstep,” Kelly waves a dismissive hand.

“I do. Are we gonna play matchmaker, Commander?”

“If you’re down, I’m down, Lieutenant.”

And as the shuttle heads towards the planet, Kelly and Gordon come up with a perfect plan.

Ed sighs as Gordon finishes telling him about the night’s plans.

“I don’t really feel up to a party dude…”

“Come on, Mercer. It’ll be fun, aaaand a great way to welcome (Y/N) to the Bridge Babes.” The brunette gives his ginger friend a look at the dorky nickname before shrugging.

“Fine. But I’m not gonna stay very late, I’m tired.”

“Sick! You won’t regret it. Kelly and I have everything all planned out…”

Ed gives Gordon a suspicious look.

“You said that weird.”

“No I didn’t,” the red-head denies instantly, and Ed just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, man. I’ll see you at 1900.”

Far too soon for Ed’s liking the appointed hour rolls around and he forces himself to head to the simulator. When the doors open, he can see the bridge crew milling about a small, 21st century bar. As he walks in, he scans the room until his eyes land on (Y/N). She’s far too busy talking to Kelly to notice his gaze and he quickly turns to order a beer from the bar.

“Hey glad you made it!” Gordon quickly wraps an arm around his best friend’s shoulders as he gives him his best smile.

“I said I would come.”

“Yeaaaah but I’m still glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, me too.” He glances back at the two women again, seeing them move to sit at a table.

“Wanna go sit?” Gordon tries his best to be casual as he turns to get himself another beer.

“Oh, uh, nah. I’d rather sit up here. Can get drinks faster,” he jokes as Gordon chuckles.

“Sure, man. Sure.”

A few downed beers later, Ed is a bit more malleable and Gordon migrates them over to the table. As they take a seat, the tipsy Captain sends his navigator a warm smile.

“Hey Ed. How are you?” Kelly’s voice pulls his gaze and he nods.

“I’m good. How are you two?”

“I’m fine. Gordon and I are gonna get more drinks. Want anything?”

The brunette shakes his head as the Commander stands and looks to (Y/N). She shakes her head as well and the other two head for the bar.

“So, I asked how you were…”

“Oh! Oh, um… I’m okay, captain. Thank you.”

“Ed is fine when we’re off duty.”

“Alright, Ed.” She hums, trying it out as he smiles at her.

“Have you decided if you like it here yet?”

She shrugs a little. 

“I think so,” she takes a sip as Ed moves to follow suit.

“You think or you know?”

She gives him a confused look.

“Capt- Ed… Why are you so worried about what I think of the Orville?”

He blinks for a minute, trying to formulate a good answer.

“I just… want you to feel welcome,” he says honestly. He glances over at her as she gives him a little smile. He can’t help but return it with that signature grin of his.

Their conversation flows easily after this, Ed asking her questions about herself and retelling some of the crew’s best adventures. As they gab and polish off their drinks, Ed offers to get them another round. But as he turns to stand and moves to the bar, he notices the rest of the bridge crew is gone.

“Uh…I think we got ditched.”

(Y/N) looks over and tilts her head.

“Oh…I guess we did.”

Ed moves to get them drinks anyway before returning to the table to find the woman chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” He slides the drink over to her.

“I just am surprised I guess,” she says as she reaches for her glass.

“Surprised about what?”

“About you.”

He looks a little worried and she waves his anxiety away.

“Honestly, up until now, I thought you just weren’t able to talk to me. Maybe you didn’t like me, I don’t know,” she admits.

Ed brow furrows as he tries to think clearly about the past few days. 

“No… No, (Y/N), I like you a lot.”

She gives him a smile as she sets her glass back down.

“I like you too, Ed.”

He takes a gulp of his beer and, feeling brave, speaks again.

“No, I like really like you. A lot.”

Her face definitely heats up as she smiles into her glass.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely, yeah,” he hiccups.

The lieutenant looks around the bar before downing her drink and standing.

“Did you wanna get out of here?”

Ed blinks up at her for a moment then stands, beer long forgotten.

“Yeah. May I?” He holds out a hand to her and she takes it. Ed gives her that damn smile of his as he leads her out of the sim and into the corridor.

They stroll through the ship until they reach her quarters and she releases him. He preps himself to bid her a goodnight once her door is open, but instead she pulls him inside.

“Stay?”

Ed makes a skeptical face.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

She scoffs out a chuckle.

“I asked if you would stay, not if you would have sex with me,” she teases drunkenly as he chuckles.

“...okay sure, I’ll stay.”

She takes his hand and leads him to her bedroom. She disappears into the bathroom to change as Ed takes off his shoes and lays down. When she comes back out, she turns the lights off and slips under the covers beside him.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Yeah, (Y/N)?”

“I really like you, too.”

He smiles at her, tucking some hair behind her ear before getting comfy and falling asleep.

The next morning, Ed groans as he rubs his eyes. When he finally opens them, he sees a painkiller and water on an unfamiliar nightstand. He takes it quickly before rolling over to see (Y/N) peeking at him.

“Hi,” she says softly as his face pales.

“Did we…?”

“No, no…”

“Oh good.”

They lay in silence for about a minute as they each think about what to say.

“I should go…” He says as he sits up, (Y/N) quickly sitting up as well. 

“Yeah, okay…”

“Last night was fun, from what I remember,” he offers as he gets out of bed.

“Yeah it was.” She follows him out of her room and into the living room while he attempts to tug his shoes on.

“See you on the bridge.”

Before the door can swish open, she grabs his hand to stop him.

“Wait!”

As he turns back to her, (Y/N) gives him a quick peck. Ed is sure he’s a bright red as he looks at her, surprised. Before her anxiety can catch up with her, he leans down to capture her lips for longer.

“Think they fell for it?”

“Are you doubting my sim programming abilities?”

“No, no. It definitely looked like the whole bridge was there. But if they talk to anyone besides us they’ll find out.”

“That’s okay,” the ginger shrugs. “Once they figure it out, they’ll be too into each other to care.”

[astriexxe]

Here is my very long post about what I think of Les Misérables (2012) after watching it again recently

Tldr: the music which should be great somehow just isn't, the camera angles are fucking weird, Russel Crowe isn't as bad as I expected, Hugh Jackman was worse than I remembered

When I watched Les Misérables (2012) the first time it was the first experience I'd had of Les mis other than the odd YouTube video of one day more (or occasionally do you hear the people sing). I didn't know what it was about I didn't know many of the songs.

I found it fairly boring, the music was ok, the middle section with the revolution was the highlight. My favourite character was Javert followed by Enjolras (but that's biased because I'm a moulin rouge and n2n fan and it was Aaron tveit).

When I watched it back I entirely expected to hate Russell Crowe as Javert but have more respect for the music and the rest of the film as I have since watched the staged concerts and been to see it live and it's fucking great I love it.

I was wrong the music still sucked and I still found it kind of boring despite absolutely loving the stage production.

The orchestra is too quiet I think which means the music loses a lot of it's grandeur and the bad singing is more obvious.

Russel Crowe has a weird tone when singing (this we already knew) and when compared to other Javert's he sucks but when compared to Hugh Jackman it's a relief whenever it's his part because holy fuck Hugh Jackman was bad. Russel Crowe honestly wasn't that bad, I quite like his Javert from an acting perspective and the singing was alright, I know when I first watched the film stars was my favourite song (just imagine how amazed I was when I heard Philip Quast's version). I wish Javert's suicide was better in the film.

Hugh Jackman was far worse than I remembered him being perhaps I have more to compare him to now, bring him home was awful that's not how that should be sung and he had me bored for like the entire bit at the start where it's basically just him (end of prologue/ VJ's soliloquy).

One day more was a bit messy but not as bad as I was expecting.

The scenery was pretty epic like they had some great cinematic shots (ship at the start, the Seine, the cliff during VJ's soliloquy) like a big musical like Les Mis deserves some cool shots like that.

The camera angles were fucking weird. I find how shows use different camera angles quite interesting but I can't figure Les Mis out, it doesn't enhance the story or characters or anything it's just distracting and adds to how boring it is. I thought the camera angles during VJ's soliloquy looked like he was vlogging. Some dramatic shots could have helped that scene a lot I think. The camera angles got a little more exciting but the weird close ups were a theme and I personally think they were poorly used and distracting.

The Thenardiers were pretty good the first time I watched it but like having seen the show since it just doesn't work they're nowhere near as funny.

When my friend watched Les Mis and said she didn't like how all the dialogue was sung and I was like ok maybe she just doesn't like sung through musicals fair enough. No the film is just weird. They like added bits of sung dialogue but they seem to have forgotten to give these bits any tune.

VJ got a new song which was a bit of a shock because honestly I don't remember it from the first time round, I think the concept of the song is pretty cool but poorly written (it was sort of boring and didn't feel like it fit with the musical).

Les Amis were once again a highlight, the pace picks up, the singing gets better, all in all it's a good chunk of the film.

Fantine was better than I remembered and Anne Hathaway went for acting over singing in I Dreamed a Dream which worked but only because it was a film.

Eddie Redmayne was good as was Sam Barks I enjoyed their bits.

Aaron Tveit was also good you can tell which of the actors are theatre actors because they can act and sing at the same time (/hj). And of course respect to George Blagden.

The child actors (I don't know their names) were also great!

Yeah I think that's it if anyone read this to the end congrats on making it

[weemssapphic]

Hi author! How are you? I hope you are doing well!(I'm changing my vocabulary with translation hoping that it correctly conveys what I'm saying, but I remain skeptical 😅) I saw a lot of messages that people sent you and I wanted to know If you were well, or as well as possible, In any case I wish you to be well and happy, I have also read many times that you are not boring, I do not know where this idea comes from but you are absolutely not boring!I don't know you personally but the little I know about you is that you are kind and nice, very creative and original and that you have a lot of talent for writing great fiction! And grammar, vocabulary, a large repertoire of words, a good command of conjugation tenses (seriously when I read your stories I have the joy of not having to read an old Conjugation time that I don't even remember the name of anymore😅 like really not used at all and that people use haphazardly, it hurts the eyes seriously 😂) And you probably have a bunch of other qualities that I don't know about, but it's always a pleasure to come across you on Tumblr and read everything you post or reblog (seriously, I scroll through Tumblr with A certain boredom these last few days (despite everything I have to read😅) and as soon as I see one of your posts my attention is suddenly completely operational 😁(it is normally directed Towards any new character that I like a lot from a series that I have just started or restarted or discovered, no matter what my mind always finds a new character for which Become kindly and respectfully obsessed 😂)And by rambling on I forget what I want to say or what I was saying, I think I wished you good things and listed your qualities? Yeah that must be it, well then lots of good things For you author! Take care!👍

Hi there 🫶🏼 thank you for the ask!

Thank you so much 🥺 I’m alright, I reblogged something that was maybe slightly concerning but didn’t expect anyone to notice or message me about it 😅 which is okay of course, I’m grateful for every message I’ve received and everyone is really sweet and I’m happy to be apart of a fandom and have mutuals who are so kind and where we can all check in on one another ♥️ I’m okay though, just insecure sometimes I guess, but I really appreciate this message, it means a lot to me 🥺 you’re very kind!!

I hope you’re doing well. Much love 🤍