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brighter-by-the-daly · 2 years ago

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Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Four - Part of the Team

Posted: 15/03/23 Edited: 20/07/23

As the alarms rang out you stirred awake as Rachel rolled over and tried to snooze them. She doesn’t need to be up so early but you need to make yourself look good for meeting the team again. Kissing her shoulder you rolled out of bed and into the en-suite, secretly using her toothbrush to brush your teeth. You found her make up and applied enough to make you look decent but not overly done up then brushed your hair and planted it in a messy bun on top of your head then browsed through Rachel’s wardrobe looking for something cute but casual to wear. Your denim shorts had dried from yesterday, you just needed a top, nothing caught your attention so you decided to stick with the Nike Home one as you thought you looked cute. You did take one of her cardigans though and pulled that on while digging out your socks from the end of the bed then tiptoed downstairs to make the teas. Flicking through your phone while the kettle boiled and browsing your friends messages, you’ll have to make time to see them to give them the low down. You carried the teas upstairs and woke Rach up with lots of kisses, “I used your toothbrush by the way” you smiled baring your teeth “and helped yourself to my closet yeah?” she mumbled while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What else am I supposed to do, go in the nude?” you joked “absolutely not, that’s just for me!” pulling you closer, “you have half hour to get ready so drink up”. Rachel was wondering how on earth she had scored a gorgeous woman she’s known for less than 24 hours that can also keep her on schedule, and bring her tea in the morning?! She could get used to this.

Rach strutted off to the toilet as you asked if there was anything else she needed in her bags, she listed off a few things that you packed for her. She came out the bathroom looking tired, a little bit scruffy but a whole lot of sexy made you grab her from walking any further and pull her in for a kiss. “You look hot” tugging on her shirt “what, even like this?” she asked screwing her face up in confusion. “Especially like this - all sleepy and cute, I wanna cuddle you all day” you said wrapping your arms around her so she couldn’t move. “I like this cardi on you” she said wiggling out of your grasp to get ready to leave.

You were half hour early but Rach wanted to stop at Starbucks to grab a coffee and she bought you a smoothie. Riding in the car to St James Park singing along to 90s classics like Mmm Bop and Spice World you both arrived in a cheery and happy mood. Rachel walked you out to the pitch as you were early and no one was out yet then sat in the stands with you chatting about the game next week when your mum called wondering where you were. “I’m at England’s training session mum, sorry I didn’t let you know I wasn’t coming home, I’ve met someone” your cheeks turned a little blushed as you prepared for a barrage of questions. “Oh right, boy or a girl?” she started “a woman mum” “where did you meet them?” “at the game yesterday” “oh I hope they fancy the same players you do so there’s no arguments” you laughed and glanced at Rachel who was also laughing. “Funny story actually, she is one of the players” pulling Rach into the frame “this is Rachel, Rach this is my mum” “hiii, nice to meet you, your daughter is amazing” she gushed “is that Lioness Rachel Daly?!” Mum’s voiced raised. “Yeah, we spent the night together” you don’t hide much from your mum, she always sees right through you if you do anyway. “Oh my god, my daughter is a WAG!” she screeched which made you both burst out laughing. “Mum, we met less than 24 hours ago, we’re just having fun at the moment okay, I’ll let you know when I’m coming home, love you”. You apologised to Rachel who explained that that is exactly how her mum would react if she wasn’t already a famous footballer. “I better go get changed” she kissed you then went back through the tunnel.

This gave you a chance to call your friends who immediately answered without the phone even ringing screaming “TELL US EVERYTHING”. Where do you even start? We had sex in the Wembley showers which we both agree was more like making love than sex, basically inseparable and both falling head over heels for each other and now I’m watching the Lionesses train for the Brazil friendly next week. Anyone that wasn’t involved in your story would not believe what you was saying. “You can’t tell anyone okay, this is between us” seeking assurance from your friends “of course! Besties don’t go spreading each other’s business! Just get us tickets for the game yeah!” they replied cheekily “I’ll try huns, love you”.

With that, Rachel came jogging out on to the pitch in her kit and the butterflies had been replaced by fanny flutters, she looked so damn hot! And she knew it too, giving you a twirl so you wolf whistled her, then you heard other players coming “hey you better do that for all of us!” Beth appeared. After everyone was out you wolf whistled for all of them. “Nice shirt!” Lucy Bronze shouted up at you “oh this ole thing, just something I had lying around!” chuckling as you walked down the steps to greet everyone. “Still here then, it must be serious” Leah said before getting jabbed in the ribs by Millie - “don’t listen to her she’s jealous, and you got her here on time, that is a massive achievement!” Leah rolled her eyes and jogged away. “I’m just here to see my fave team and I wore this to remind you who you are!” Mary piped up with “what team!?” You knew she was a High School Musical kid from her TikToks so shouted “Wildcats!” back at her which won you a high 5. Millie spotted your messy bun and demanded to know how you got the mess so perfect, grabbing your shoulders to inspect the up do “this is the perfect header bun! You have to show me how to do it!” you said that you’ll show her when she shows you how to do hers. Why is blending into this team so easy? They all make you feel so calm and relaxed which is the complete opposite to your usual anxious self. Mary interrupted to ask your Insta handle and immediately followed you then Sarina came out and they all jogged over to her, grabbing Rachel’s arm before she could disappear “you look so fucking hot right now” you said under your breath so no one else could hear but her, she smirked while running her tongue along her teeth then jogged away, you went back to your seat.

Watching the team warm up and start the exercises laid out for them for the day, you kept catching Rachel’s eye every once in a while which made you happy. You decided to take some photos of the team on your new phone, testing out the camera and different settings - they turned out pretty good! You sent one to your friends who replied immediately, “have you seen your Insta?!” Curious, you opened the app to see Mary had tagged you in the dance from last night and your followers had gone through the roof, they included a lot of the England girls too. Scrolled through the comments and noticing there were hundreds of “who is this girl?” ‘That’s me, the mysterious team member now’, you thought. You replied to your friends like wow, a lot has happened overnight! They asked if you’d still remember them when you become famous.

Y - “Of course! I need you guys to keep me grounded 😂 It’s literally not even been 24 hours, she could still get the ick”

T - “I doubt it, the girls have all followed you, I don’t think they’d do that for a one night stand”

Y - “true, maybe she’s told them 🤷🏻‍♀️”

T - “well she did introduce you to all of them while you were wearing her shirt, that seems pretty territorial to me! 😂”

Y - “😂😂😂”

You left it at that and went back to focussing on their training, noticing Millie and Rachel were stood around chatting, you wondered if they were talking about last night. They were smiling and hugging before going back to passing the ball around. You forgot to ask how long the training sesh was, were you expected to stay throughout? You were unsure and decided to head off to find a toilet, spending some time looking in the mirror adjusting your bun before using the loo. Rachel must have seen you leave as when you came out of the cubicle she was propped up by the sinks.

“Hey you” she smiled, you grinned back at her while washing your hands. “So I was telling Millie about you and she suggested a double date tonight?” You were taken back by the offer of a second date in two days, she must feel strongly about you. “That sounds nice, I should probably pop home and grab some clothes and stuff, where are you thinking?” you asked. “We have a rest day tomorrow so we were thinking about Soho?” she shrugged. “That sounds cool, how dressed up are you two going? I don’t wanna look too over or under dressed, is it a bar or a club?” you don’t wanna stand out “a bar, we can’t drink too much until the game is over” she said jumping down from the side. “Okay sounds cool, I’ll run back and get some clothes-” “why don’t we all go shopping after training? We can pick each other’s outfits?” she interrupted your train of thought. “You really can’t spend a moment without me can you” smirking at her as Rachel stared at you deeply smiling and shaking her head. “It sounds fun! When do you think you’ll get off?” “Another hour or two I reckon, Sarina doesn’t like to push us too hard after game day. It’ll be longer and more rigorous on Saturday before the game on Sunday, do you have tickets?” You explained how you’re the organiser of the group and had been a little preoccupied lately as she played with a lose strand of your hair. “Okay leave it with me, I’ve gotta have you there cheering us on” she said defiantly “okay, I’ll go find a drink and come back to the stands. I hope you’ve got a kit at home” you said flirtingly as you pulled on her waistband before walking away in search of the cafe.

You were directed upstairs to the cafe which was in a box that overlooked the pitch. You ordered a tea and sat down in front of the window to watch the girls take shots at Mary. This team is phenomenal, they’re going to go all the way - you knew it. Still in disbelief that this whole scenario was real life, you gazed out the window for a little while before reaching for your book. You completely zoned out and for the first time, you weren’t thinking about Rachel. You read chapter after chapter completely lost in the world of your book until you felt a hand softly squeeze your shoulder, you knew who’s it was and nuzzled your cheek on it before planting a kiss on her finger.

“Do you want a coffee?” you asked as she took the seat opposite you, “I’ll get it” as she went to get up, “no you paid for dinner last night, at least let me pay for coffee, how do you like it?” Rachel asked for her order and then Millie appeared “do you want a coffee Mill?” you called out to her, “omg yes please! Rach knows my order!” as she plopped down at the table you’d stationed as your own, “then you can show me how to do this bun!” You laughed to yourself as you carried the drinks over and asked what the plan was. They explained that they were thinking of going to Oxford Street and picking out two outfits, one for each other person and we have to buy the one we like the best. You saw this as unfair as they didn’t know your style, whereas you could guess theirs from photos. “That’s the fun of it” Millie said. “Is your boyfriend not getting dragged into this too?” you asked her, alas he was at work and getting out of the torture. You hate shopping at the best of times, you didn’t know if these two were slow dilly dalliers or in-out people like you. For some reason you were feeling a bit nervous, Millie has to like you otherwise you and Rach would never work out.

At the shop you chose a banging outfit for Rach - smart caj and sexy which she loved and felt confident in. Rachel chose a cute dress for Millie and after some guidance about your likes and dislikes they both managed to put an outfit together for you. A long black dress with slits up the legs with a oversized plaid shirt over the top. You felt like it needed a hat and boots though so you browsed those aisles until you found what you wanted, then chose your jewellery and accessories together before getting out of there.

Picking up McDonalds on the way home, they both chose salads as they’re on a strict diet. You however are not and devoured two cheeseburgers and large fries in front of them. To say they were jealous was an understatement! “Perks of not being a footballer!” you said with a cheeky grin. You took a few slurps of your Pepsi then popped the top off and pulled a bottle of JD out of your bag as you glugged it into the cup before noticing both girls were staring judgingly at you. “I’m nervous!” you blushed, “this is just a pre drink to give me confidence!” you insisted. “You don’t need to be nervous” Millie put her arm round you, “Rach has told me how much she likes you, which means we will get along as well.” You were wondering exactly what your girl had told her bestie as you took some sips from your cup. “Right, we better get showered, come on” Rachel held her hand out to you and lead you upstairs “keep it down yeah” laughed Millie who was munching into her salad.

Part Five - Not my Decision to Make

#rachel daly #millie bright #lionesses #rachel daly x reader #beth mead #lucy bronze #mary earps #woso masterlist #woso x reader

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zannolin · 9 months ago

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beyonders appearance headcanons since my brain refuses to draw

literally i do what i want unless it's drawing

rachel has freckles. i'll die on this hill she's got freckles and her hair is wavy maybe curly

jason is NOT blond. #notmyjason he is not blond he can be a brunette tho i'll allow it. i guess i can't fight the canon blue eyes but he's NOT blond

his hair is actually curly if he grows it out it just started Short And Boring

in my heart drake looks like adam beach

cannot picture ferrin without short hair this is just the way it is.

while we're at it canon doesn't say which eye ferrin has a patch over but i keep instinctively drawing it over his right (my left) so i've decided he grafted his non-dominant eye and while he is very much ambidextrous because it's a Displacer Thing he favors his left over his right. thank you for coming to my TED talk

corinne has a roman nose bye

jason's taller than ferrin. this is probably canon anyway but idc

hear me out farfalee should be taller than jasher. she also usually appears older than him (middle aged often) bc his ass is always dying

this actually has basis in canon but i like to think drake got used to wearing his hair in a ponytail instead of the traditional roll/bun until his seed went bad, when he started wearing it fully down more. then he left harthenham and once he was around other amar kabal, started wearing it in a half up half down style to avoid attention.

jasher has scruff :)

i hate galloran with short hair he's not real and can't hurt me

okay that's all. FOR NOW.

#beyonders #mullblogging

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bbraefairy · 1 year ago

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ONLY FOR YOU ( 𝙗𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙘 )

where rachel and garfield are neighbors

WARNINGS: 18+ characters, smut, profanity, toxic relationships, light angst !

𝐂𝐇 𝟏: 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

✩.

“Oh, so you’re finally picking up my call.” a voice over the phone snarled.

“What could you possibly want me for, now, Ace?” Rachel receives her call.

Rachel is sitting on her bed. The shade of evening dismissed the brilliance of the day, and Rachel was preparing to go out. The summer dusk contrasted with her light skin and the outlines of her physique.

“Don’t give me attitude, you’re the one that missed two of my calls.”

“I was in the shower. You shouldn’t be talking, I barely hear from you for about three days if I am not the first one to text you.”

“The problem is you’re too goddamn insecure, and I don’t have the time to deal with that.” Ace responds sourly.

“How is me checking in on you being insecure? If anything, it’s you lacking communication.”

“I told you, I’m busy with work.”

“You’re always busy. Out of the twenty four hours of the day, you can’t take two seconds to say something? Not even a “hi”? A busy man you are. You’re not the only one with a personal life, I hope you realize that.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I’m gonna send you about four hundred dollars in a second. And, maybe we can meet up in about an hour?”

“Babe, I don’t care about the money, I want you. You’re always sending me money, or buying me things, but you’re what matters to me most. It’s really nice that you do these things, but you’re what I want. What I need.”

“Damn, at least be grateful I’m giving you something.”

Rachel closes her eyes, lets out a deep sigh.

“Ace, I can’t do this with you right now. I have somewhere to be in about five minutes.” the girl states.

“Where are you going?”

“My neighbor’s. They’re inviting us over for dinner.”

“I see. You jus’ be doing your own fuckin’ thing.”

“I’m so tired of you!” Rachel shouted, a film of heat entering her cheeks. “You only want me around when it’s beneficial to you. I’m getting sick of all of the phases you are putting me through of wanting me whenever you feel like it. But when I make up my mind that I can’t put up with your crap anymore, and revolve my life around your half-assed plans, that’s a problem!? You can miss me with that shit, to be honest.” Rachel ends the call with a click of her finger.

She exhales again, walking over to her mirror which was lit from her night lamp.

Rachel sports a grey, bodycon dress, under a black, leather jacket that stops right above her knees. She has on fishnet stockings, and black combat boots.

She tucks her short, violet hair behind her ear, right behind her bar piercing. She applies a few strokes of mascara to her lush eyelashes. Rachel finishes her natural makeup look, and hopes that will be a decent facade to hide the hell she’s living through.

Within a short while, Rachel and her parents arrived next door.

The house had a dark green door, one that was unique in the complex. The door opens, and a young man appears.

His complexion is tanned, and his eyes were a tealish-green. His long, brown hair, which had dark green highlights, was coiled back into a man bun. A thick-jagged scar runs from the middle of his forehead, to the top of his left eyebrow. His muscles tone through the fabric of his graphic t-shirt, and to follow are dark jeans and a pair of Vans. Additionally, a few tattoos were etched on his arms.

His mouth is bent into a kind smile, “Good Evenin’, name’s Garfield. Garfield Logan. Nice to meet ya.”

“Hello, I’m Mrs. Roth, but you can call me Arella. A pleasure to meet you.” Rachel’s purple-eyed, gentle mother shook Garfield’s hand.

“Mista Roth, I go by Tony.” the ravenette, hearty father addressed with a handshake.

“And I’m their daughter, Rachel.” her amethyst gaze scrapes against his teal.

He feels tension as Rachel greets him, but doesn’t mind it much at first. Maybe she was just shy.

The Roth’s greet the other residents of the household, who are Marie, Garfield’s mother, and Graham, Garfield’s older brother.

Marie has blonde hair, warm, blue eyes, and was average height. Graham, was about six feet tall, with a close resemblance to his brother.

“Here, have a seat and make yourselves at home. Thank you for spending the evening with us.” Marie’s mouth angles into a charmed smile as she escorts the guests to the dining area.

The Logan’s interior was comfortable, yet elegant. Chandeliers, paintings on the walls, freshly mopped wooden floors, marble counters, delicately expensive furniture.

On the dining area table were portions of appetizers, the main courses, desserts, and drinks.

“No, thank you,” Arella grins, sitting down. “Thank you for having us.”

“A pleasure.” Marie responds.

Everyone starts to put food on their desired plate, eat, and a discussion begins.

“So, how do you guys like Jump City so far? I know it’s only been a couple of days, but hopefully you all have found something nice about it.” Mrs. Logan laughs lightly.

“Over here is a lot better than the last town we lived in. Big space for a small sales price.” Mr. Roth asserts.

“That’s how we like it.” Mrs. Roth chimed in. “The last place we had, we had hostile landlords, always had to hustle for parking, the houses were so packed on top of each other. Plus, the neighborhood wasn’t all that friendly, so it was a tough place to like. But, this, we’ve liked a lot more so far. We’re gonna love it here.”

Marie states, “I am so sorry to hear about that experience you all had. I really hope you do enjoy your new home and what the town has to offer. If you need any help with anything, like finding stores and things like that, we are more than glad to help.”

“What she said.” Graham lazily joins.

Rachel and Garfield happened to be sitting next to each other. Rachel was left handed, and Garfield was right handed. He accidentally nudged his hand against hers while gathering a forkful.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered shyly.

“It’s fine.” came Rachel’s bothered reply.

He sighed.

“Do you mind passing me the lemonade?” Rachel asked.

“Sure thing,” he stretches to the jar, hands it over to Rachel.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” he pauses before continuing, “I’m not a big fan of lemonade, so knock yourself out. Even if I was, it’s only etiquette for you to have as much as you want.”

“How come you don’t like lemonade? It’s sweet and refreshing, and perfect for the summer.”

“I don’t really like juices with pulp in them. Lemonade, orange juice. Well, if I drink orange juice, it’ll be pulp free.” he declares.

“Fair enough.”

“Mhm. So, what’s got you all the way on this side of town?”

“We needed bigger, and better. Plus, my dad got a new job, and this area was suitable for the distance.”

“Gotchya,” Garfield’s tone was friendly.

“Hope you have a blast. Don’t be like me and get tired of everyone on the block. I mean, I’ve been here for years, so it’s only fair, right?”

The corner of Rachel’s mouth arches up, “Give or take.”

“Got any plans for the summer?” he questions, gulping down some iced fruit punch.

“Settling in. I applied for a job, which I am starting next week. Hopefully I can find a library to hang out in on occasion. Nothing much besides that. How about you?”

Slowly but surely, Rachel was becoming less tense.

“Ah, I’m chillin’. Just knocked out another year of college, fixin’ up cars and motorcycles per usual.”

“Oh, so you’re a mechanic?”

“Not quite. I just kinda have it as a hobby, but I’m hopin’ to turn it into a career.”

“That’s valid.”

After several more minutes, the families finish their meal. They all engaged in a hearty conversation with one another while having a scrumptious meal.

The Roth’s get ready to leave, having a fond sensation for their new neighbors.

“It was a pleasure having you all, and you are always welcome to come back if you’d like.” Marie opened the green front door for the Roth’s.

“Please, Marie, thank you for dinner, the advice, and the hospitality. Your sons are sweethearts, too.” Mrs. Roth says.

“That apple crumb pie was delicious, you have a strong baker’s hand, Marie.” Tony states with a bellowed chuckle.

“Oh, it’s no biggie.”

“Thank you for everything, Mrs. Logan, Graham, and Garfield.” Rachel waves.

“No prob, Rachel. It was nice havin’ ya over, you’re good company.” Garfield’s face softens, and he smiles faintly at the girl.

Rachel tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her shy eyes trace away from his.

“You, too. Have a good night.” Rachel begins to walk away.

“Wait, Rachel.” Garfield calls to her.

“Mom, Dad, I’ll be behind you in a second.” Rachel says to her parents, who are already next door.

The other Logan’s retreated back into the house.

It was just Garfield and Rachel at the door.

Garfield pulls out his phone, then glances at Rachel.

“Can I have your number?”

Rachel is thrown completely off guard by the question, and tries to hide her hesitation.

“Just to keep in touch, is all. I promise I’m not a freak or anything.” Garfield gently reassures.

The compassionate twinkle in his smile suggests to Rachel, that maybe, she should take his word for it. He didn’t seem to mean any harm.

Rachel takes out her phone, and they begin to exchange.

In mid-transfer, Rachel’s phone rings in Garfield’s hand.

“I’m sorry, hold on.” Rachel takes the phone in her hand, answers the call.

“Ace?” her disposition changes, she melts into a vulnerable, almost terrified state.

“It’s been an hour, and I’m ready to go out.” Ace abrasively snarls.

“I told you that I can’t tonight, my neighbor’s invited me out to dinner.”

“I don’t care. I want you, and I want you now, you understand?! Tell me your address so I can pick you up.”

Rachel shakes her head, highly irritated, and ends the call again.

“I’ve gotta go.”

She gives Garfield his phone back, and when she leaves with hers, she only has half of his number.

✩.

hi, bbrae babes ! i hope you liked this read 💌 thank you for reading. i will post more chapters soon.

this story is also available on ao3 & ff.net !!

#bbrae #beast boy and raven #teen titans #bbrae fanfiction #beastboy and raven fanfiction #smut #ao3fic #toxic relationship

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winns-stuff · 2 years ago

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LO APPRECIATION:

Lord, I am so upset at myself for forgetting about one of my most favorite character in the series. I’m sorry y’all I’ve been doing so many damn rants that I’ve been lacking with the appreciation side of my page. Anyways, I would like all of you to give a standing ovation to a nymph who’s more than worthy of the spotlight (although I hated the way they decided to present her) and is more beautiful than half of the main cast because she was absolutely gorgeous, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to Leuce.

Listen, I wanna get out one thing. I love her so much, I was literally one of the people defending her when the fans tried to tear her a new one for even being close to Hades. I’m gonna say it now, if Leuce was really into Hades and genuinely wanted him for herself she could’ve had him in any universe. But he honestly doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful as she is. I love everything about her and she didn’t deserve half of the haters she gained from that fucking chapter, it will forever irk the hell out of me. Now y’all know how Minthe felt when Persephone literally did the SAME THING.

But onto the things I love about her, one thing is her personality. She seemed so kind but she had so much self confidence, like in that moment I felt like she could flip the conversation to her at any given moment. I never had such interest in a character, or no that’s a lie I have but it’s been a while since that interest had been brought out. I’m glad that Leuce knew who she was, even when Hades declined her she still held her head high and walked out of the room, unlike Persephone who can’t take no from anyone and starts begging and crying like a literal baby, Leuce was always mature and so sophisticated. She never spoke out of turn or tried to manipulate the conversation to be in her standard, no meant no with her and I’m glad that the “replacement Persephone” was way better than the actual one.

Also speaking of that nickname, Leuce was never a replacement just an upgrade.

Next thing I wanna talk about is her aesthetic, she has one of the most beautiful designs ever and I absolutely hate the fact that she was really just used as more HxP leverage. She’s so much more than that, she was so pleasing to the eye and whenever I saw her it was like smelling a person who bathed in lovely soaps for like 60 years (weird analogy but think about it cause that’s how it felt for me) and whenever she spoke every word made me want to hear more from her. There’s never been such an alluring and captivating character like that in the whole series! Yes, I know it’s a shame that Rachel didn’t try to make Aphrodite more like that but what can you do I guess.

Another thing I loved about her is her dress, I know we’ve seen similar looking dresses in LO but something about hers is just gorgeous to me. I love everything about it that dress is amazing to me. The silhouette, the little corset in the middle, the armband, the way it just mysteriously travels down her body and everything is amazing. I’ve never loved an outfit more, except maybe Artemis’ god form, but none of the outfits in LO have been as good as hers and there’s a few people I can think of who equate to her but not many.

I adored the way her hair looks as well, I’ve never been so mesmerized about seeing curls in so long but everything about it is so amazing and wonderful. The length is perfect, the way the curls sit on top of her head are perfect, everything about her hairdo just exudes perfection. I feel like if they gave her any other hairstyle, believe me she’d still look absolutely amazing, it wouldn’t have the same effect as the bun does. Especially since the little flowers are just decorated in her hair, it’s amazing and even though I wish she were more accurate and not a flower nymph because let’s be real, flower nymphs are not the only nymphs in Olympus I’m still so obsessed with the way they look on her and her only.

Last thing I loved about her appearing in the episode was how many beautiful redesigns came out of it. I personally love seeing redesigns because they’re all always so good and well thought out but the way that Leuce’s appearance brought out so many talented people is crazy. No matter who it is they’re always so good.

Anyways, that’s the end of the appreciation for this post but it won’t be for me of course. I’ll always love and appreciate Leuce, she could’ve been one of the best characters honestly. But I just hate that she was just supposed to be a sugar baby for Hades, not that the sugar baby part is the bad thing I just hated how Rachel tried to make it seem like that was all she was. I hate how Leuce was only used to make Persephone look like “the better woman”, it’s always with women who are either more confident or comfortable in their own sexualities. Like it genuinely irks me so much that no woman is deserving of a good ending or happy love life in LO if they’re not HxP. There’s more things about the way Leuce is introduced that pisses me off but I can’t think of it now and besides, this is supposed to focus more on the appreciation of Leuce not how terribly the comic treated her.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo

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ficklefic · 1 year ago

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nye 7 years post hs!

this one plays with the idea that the industry rachel and quinn share is probably small, so they end up seeing each other again in the same new years eve party (that as the file name says, 7 years post hs). it was a party quinn's college roommate hosts, and this roommate is now a writer and producer for films and tv shows with whom quinn kept in touch.

so now,

“It wasn’t even my bright idea to host this party,” Meyer released Quinn and peeked into her fridge for a bottle of champagne. “Remember April? The casting director for A Boston Marriage that Netflix hired for me? Yeah, it was all her.” Meyer rolled her eyes as she poured champagne into two flutes, one she handed to Quinn. “I mean, I get up and coming actors who somehow found out about this party and really, Quinn, I can only handle so much sucking up.” Quinn snorted and took the champagne. They clinked the glasses together and took a sip. “Who’s in there, do you know?” “Hm, well, I met a few of them. One of them is with Sara Bareilles so now I have half the mind to turn it into a musical…” Meyer trailed off and shot Quinn a look. “If I remember correctly, you can sing.” “I can carry a tune here and there,” Quinn said with an offhand shrug. “I was in glee club in high school though, but it’s not like we won Nationals because of my voice.” Her friend scratched her chin. “I’ll keep it in mind. So anyway, there’s also this woman who’s the perfect height for the role. She’s with some guy called Jesse St. James, and I think I’ve seen her on Good Morning America once or twice…” Quinn blinked. That name sounded familiar. But her attempt to remember was interrupted by a few notes on the piano. “Oh Christ, they finally realized there’s a piano there,” Meyer grumbled. Like a sailor doomed at sea, Quinn heard her voice first before she saw her. “Kiss today, goodbye… Point me towards tomorrow…” “Quinn, you coming?” Meyer asked while she was halfway out of the door. Quinn blinked herself out of her stupor and followed her friend to the library where the piano was. It was no grand piano, but it was pitch black and shiny, and the woman singing beside it was a sight to behold. Rachel Berry stood in an elegant navy blue dress, her hair pinned in a neat bun. Champagne flute in hand, she sang, while Jesse St. James — Quinn remembered him now, and she was baffled that he was there with Rachel — played the piano. “You know her?” Meyer whispered. They were in the far back, far from the performance and hidden from view, but still, through the gaps of bodies, Quinn saw Rachel, if the quickening of her pulse was any indication. “You look like you do.” “She — Yeah, I know her.” Quinn did not notice the way Meyer looked at her, then to Rachel. All Quinn could focus on was the pure, unadulterated sound of Rachel’s voice, matured over the years. No longer did she feel the need to belt long notes to prove the emotional quality of her voice. But still, the song necessitated a long, piercing note at the end that took Quinn’s breath away.

what happens in stories like this? they reconnect, they become friends again. with lesser baggage, maybe they fall in love.

#asks #anonymous

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dehydratedpercy · 2 years ago

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hey hey hey!! i'm about to finish my umpteenth reread of preserve or raze and i just wanted to shower you with love because you literally cannot imagine how much i adore your fic oh my gods

first off. the characters sir. the characters. i like every single one of them more than in canon and that's saying something because i loved them a lot in the first place

jason grace? absolute perfection. hazel levesque? frank is the most relatable character ever because i too am such a damn simp for her. frank himself? ultimate best boy. and percy? *fanboy sounds intensify* yeah that should be enough of an answer. i love him your honour. nico di angelo? adored him back then adore him now. also long hair in a bun!nico lives rent free in my head. and annabeth? she's one of the only characters i didn't like much in the original books anyway but such kudos to you for writing her denial arc about percy, it was so amazingly written and god. truly all i can offer is admiration

not to mention how much i long to take part in those cuddle parties and movie nights with the gang

also hell yeah lesbian piper and rachel. you were doing god's work fixing the former character's writing tbh

and the plot itself is SO GOOD. like. it's not a coincidence that it can fully hold my autistic ass's attention all the way through even though it's 277k words at this point. it's truly one of the best things i've read and that is saying something because i read A Lot

so. god. thank you so much for this masterpiece!! and please keep going!! this book means more to me than you can imagine

(but ofc, please only do so within your boundaries and while putting yourself first - just in case it wasn't obvious /gen)

i hope you're doing well and that the rest of your day is gonna be great <3

all the best, jay

Hi jay!! This is an old ask, but that is only because it delighted me so much that I wanted to keep it in my ask box for a while to appreciate it.

"first off. the characters sir. the characters. i like every single one of them more than in canon and that's saying something because i loved them a lot in the first place"

YES let's talk characters. Rick did a great job setting up the basics, okay? Okay. He did great. It has been my honor to just EXPAND upon the basics, which, also, were mostly 13 year olds who didn't cuss. But they were SO badass, they really deserved better-- like, idk, to be in their 20s, to have mature relationship drama/hookups, to be even more dramatic and less goody-two-shoes, and yes, of course, to swear up a storm. FRANK DESERVES TO SAY FUCK.

You know those first few chapters of Mark of Athena (told from Annabeth's POV) where she sees Jason acting all regal (and yet still kinda fucked up), she sees Percy acting all buddy buddy with Frank and Hazel (and it makes her feel nervous/worried), she interacts with Reyna (and there's this weird underlying tension)? And its generally just about... two cultures combining and problem solving together and a bunch of characters we love acting hesitant around each other because they don't know who's a threat and who's not? Well, PoR was VERY inspired by those chapters. I read those chapters and went "You know what would be nice? 250k words of this" and then thats what I spent the next three years writing.

"jason grace? absolute perfection. hazel levesque? frank is the most relatable character ever because i too am such a damn simp for her. frank himself? ultimate best boy. and percy? *fanboy sounds intensify* yeah that should be enough of an answer. i love him your honour. nico di angelo? adored him back then adore him now. also long hair in a bun!nico lives rent free in my head. and annabeth? she's one of the only characters i didn't like much in the original books anyway but such kudos to you for writing her denial arc about percy, it was so amazingly written and god. truly all i can offer is admiration"

Hazel is chill but also lowkey magical and wonderful. Frank is 100% right to feel such strong admiration of her. And yes, Frank is DEFINITELY the best boy, and not only because he turns into a very cute pug. PERCY. Love of my life, waterer of my crops.

"and annabeth? she's one of the only characters i didn't like much in the original books anyway but such kudos to you for writing her denial arc about percy, it was so amazingly written and god. truly all i can offer is admiration"

Okay, the Annabeth thing is so interesting because I've heard a LOT of people say they didn't like her in the books?? Which shocks me, because I thought she was great. I really projected heavily onto Percy, but I liked Annabeth and their relationship a lot. I think fanon Annabeth gets a little messy, so maybe the issue is that people struggle when figuring out how to interpret her-- they either see her as really basic, or really controlling and mean. Personally, I think Annabeth is a lot more than either of those things: she's the type of person who's in touch with her emotions, but is constantly fighting between logic and emotions, deciding what is the smartest thing to do versus what is the thing she is most called to do. The people surrounding her at camp pigeonhole her into being logical, because "Annabeth wouldn't do something irrational" "Annabeth is smart, she should act like it" "Annabeth should always think things through". That's why she works so well with percy-- he DOESN'T think things through, he totally flies by the seat of his pants and acts on his emotions every time, even when its going to fuck him up. Percy shows Annabeth that it's okay to act emotionally instead of rationally-- that you can still get places that way. Annabeth lived a life where everyone else was holding her back, and then met Percy, and Percy was one of the first people who didn't try to hold her back. If anything, he encouraged her to push further, yell louder, and just-- be more.

So yeah. I do, genuinely, love Percabeth. And I'm glad this fic has made you appreciate them-- or at least Annabeth-- more ;)

"not to mention how much i long to take part in those cuddle parties and movie nights with the gang"

HELL!!!! YEAH!!!!

"also hell yeah lesbian piper and rachel. you were doing god's work fixing the former character's writing tbh"

THANK!!!! YOU!!!!! Look all I'm saying is. Piper and Rachel should've been canon. Piper's SUCH a hippie. The way she dresses, the way she thinks-- yes. She needs, NEEDS, an artist girlfriend. And Rachel-- UGH, you don't understand, she wants Piper so bad. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

Should've been canon, I'm telling you.

"and the plot itself is SO GOOD. like. it's not a coincidence that it can fully hold my autistic ass's attention all the way through even though it's 277k words at this point. it's truly one of the best things i've read and that is saying something because i read A Lot"

I'm honored 😭🥰 The true miracle is that it held my autistic ass's attention for long enough to write that much in the first place, holy shit. This was a special interest to rival God. I have really, really loved writing it though, so I'm glad you've enjoyed it so much :') ❤️❤️❤️

"so. god. thank you so much for this masterpiece!! and please keep going!! this book means more to me than you can imagine"

🥰🥰🥰 Thank you!! And good news for you, these upcoming days/weeks I will be writing the remaining chapters and continuing/finishing this story! My current job gives me a LOT of free time so I think it's only right that I use it to give PoR the conclusion it deserves.

Thanks so much for the ask and all the love. I wish you wonderful reading and a wonderful day as well!

-Atlas

#preserve or raze #ask

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kenziejustquietly · 9 months ago

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Lent & Asceticism Journey: Journalling

Friday 23 February

I'm writing this from the blissful comfort of a rainy Saturday morning, with the love of my life softly sleeping next to me and my sweet puppy in her crate jiggling the locks, trying to get out for a cuddle.

Yesterday was Friday.

I woke up and worked the morning from home, wrestling with Facebooks ad centre. I took a shower and used my new auburn brow pencil so my eyebrows don't immediately give me away as a fake ginger.

I searched for the source of weird smells in our bathroom and bedroom and found nothing but removed all bedding, washing, towels, and old things anyway, just in case.

Grace picked me up and we went back to her place to see her dog. I met her flatmate, she was lovely. Grace gets out a lot. She has a lot of third places. I felt like I am not doing enough to enjoy my city hearing her talk about all the bars and friends she has in her back pocket.

We went to get lunch and get some to take to Rach. I had to get the most boring thing there - brown rice maki sushi - because of lent. The others got my favourite food, poke bowls.

We arrived at Rachel's and Charlie was having a feed. He was so cute and looks like an old British man sometimes. I love Him. He cried a lot and also sharted which was fucking hilarious.

We hung out for ages talking to Rachel about how her life is going now. I confessed I missed her a lot when she left.

We left and Grace dropped me home. I put my hair in sponge rollers. Connor arrived home and made fun.

I also read quite a bit more of Sorrow and Bliss. It's a good 3 star read so far. There's a difference between a good 3 star and a bad 3 star. This one is definitely good. It's engaging.

We had skyrim food for tea. I only had two buns instead of three. I felt guilty because it was so delicious. It was meant to be rustic.

I drank a lot of sparkling water, read some more, and fell asleep next to my husband. Joy and Bliss.

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nottinghillhq · 2 years ago

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welcome to notting hill heather, neen, alyssa and luigi, we’re super excited to have you here, you’ve got twenty-four hours to send in your account!

RYAN GOSLING. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of VOGUE by madonna, well, it describes NATHAN ‘NATE’ YOUNG to a tee! the forty year-old, and PHOTOGRAPHER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more cocky or more FREETHINKING instead? anyway, they remind me of a desk filled with empty coffee cups, sunglasses hooked on his shirt front, a constantly buzzing mobile phone and a playful smile and a wink, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ HEATHER ]

SIMONE ASHLEY. SHE/HER / have you ever heard of HELP by the beatles, well, it describes ELLORA ‘ELLE’ CHARI to a tee! The twenty-five year-old, and ZOO KEEPER AT LONDON ZOO was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more reserved or more GO-GETTING instead? anyway, they remind me of preferring animals to humans, hair pulled up into a scruffy bun, an addiction to sour patch kids and dirty boots by the door, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ HEATHER ]

NICHOLAS GALITZINE. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of DEATH WITH DIGNITY by sufjan stevens, well, it describes ELIAS PARLOUR to a tee! the twenty-eight year old, and PEDIATRIC PSYCHOLOGIST was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more impulsive or more COMEDIC instead? anyway, they remind me of a hockey stick freshly spray-painted white, a disheveled typewriter desk with disorganized reports, and an absurdist sketch show playing at a low volume during a badly-timed nap, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ NEEN / SHE/HER / 28 / EST / EATING DISORDERS, SUICIDE & DOMESTIC ABUSE ]

ALP NAVRUZ HE/HIM / have you ever heard of TWICE by the catfish and bottlemen , well, it describes ZEKAI OZDEMIR to a tee! the twenty-six year old, and FBI AGENT was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more headstrong or more INDEPENDENT instead? anyway, they remind me of likes a constant scruff on their face, hands bruised from a rough night before, thick brows knit together whenever they’re deep in thought, open or closed fists they aren’t afriad to speak their mind and living in the shadows, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ ALYSSA / SHE/HER, PST ]

ALEXANDRA BRECKENRIDGE SHE/HER / have you ever heard of STILL INTO YOU by ashley tisdale , well, it describes MORGAN KOZLOV to a tee! the forty year old, and OWNER OF THE GRIND was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more pessimistic or more FAITHFUL instead? anyway, they remind me of perfectly manicured nails, majority of their closet is covered in lace, soft voice drips off of their tongue like honey, hello kitty bandaids, and reminding everyone to put a coat on. maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ ALYSSA / SHE/HER, PST, N/A ]

SINQUA WALLS. HE + HIM / have you ever heard of PIZZAZZ by akintoye, well, it describes JAYDEN ‘DENNY’ LEWIS to a tee! the thirty-seven year old, and PASTRY CHEF was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more childish or more ENTHUSIASTIC instead? anyway, they remind me of late nights spent dancing under streetlights, the low hum of a motorcycle, tilting your head backwards to bask in the sun, and a lingering whiff of expensive cologne, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ LUIGI / HE/THEY / 25 / EST ] CYNTHIA ADDAI – ROBINSON. SHE + HER / have you ever heard of LIVED IT TWICE by rachel grae, well, it describes VELIANE OSEI to a tee! the forty-one year old, and DIRECTOR OF FINANCE was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more aloof or more CHARISMATIC instead? anyway, they remind me of a lonely mansion on top of a hill, scattered rose petals left to rot, the loud clacking of a keyboard, and newspapers draped across half-eaten breakfasts maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ LUIGI / HE/THEY / 25 / EST ] ⸻ FIN ARGUS. THEY + THEM / have you ever heard of HOLY WATER by noah davis, well, it describes KYLE DOE to a tee! the twenty-three year old, and BARTENDER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say THEY are more reckless or more OPTIMISTIC instead? anyway, they remind me of drumming your fingers against your thighs, creating intricate latte art in the middle of the night, honey jars filled to the brim, scraped knees and bloodied knuckles, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ LUIGI / HE/THEY / 25 / EST ]

#nottinghillaccepted

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

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no matter what (2)

part 1

John made a vow to get you back, he just didn't expect it to go like this

"Come on (y/n)," you mutter to yourself. You've been staring at yourself the mirror for the past half hour, getting dressed into a pretty black dress that was just modest enough for the place you were going for dinner at yet just teasing enough to draw the eyes of your first date in nearly four months.

You haven't been single in a so many years. You had very well thought that your last first date was and would forever be just that; the last one. Of course you couldn't have banked on things ending with John the way that they did. Even then, you had actually toyed with the idea of never dating again, but your closest friends were quick to knock some sense into you for sounding like a complete fool. He's not died, they said, he just woke up one day and cast you out on a sudden decision that you were no longer part of his future plans.

It's no surprise that it feels as though a piece of you died that afternoon.

It was important to get back out there, they said. You had been with John for most of your adult life and if you wanted to get out and find the future that you wanted then you couldn't sit around all day in your old pyjamas with your hair in a greasy bun eating caramel wafers while watching reruns of friends and crying at every single Ross and Rachel storyline that cropped up. He was getting on with his life and very probably moving on.

Not that you would know about that. His name was blocked from all of your social media so you wouldn't come into contact with him at all and you weren't the kind to go searching his name only to cause yourself more hurt. You were in enough pain as it was without searching for more. The tears he had caused to you in the time you had been apart still felt futile in comparison to the happiness he brought you when you were together. It was six years of laughter, smiles, bear hugs, soft kisses and a stupid amount of love. It was, in hindsight, probably too perfect to last anyway.

Yet, you still felt so silly dating again. It felt as though you hadn't even scraped the surface of being over him yet. In fact, you hadn't even really accepted that your time with him was done yet. You still lay awake at night wondering how his ankle was. Wondering if his game had gotten better, wondering if he was scoring any goals.

Wondering if he was going home to celebrate those goals with another woman who was not you in the same way he used to do with you.

You missed those passionate, winners kisses and the way he'd hold you like nobody else in the world existed. He treated you like you were the only person he could ever love, like it would be that way forever and maybe it was foolish of you to truly believe that was the case but nonetheless you had. You fell for him like a lovesick puppy and you allowed yourself to devote six years of building what you thought was a future with him only for it to end on a dime on one random rainy Tuesday afternoon with you out on your arse with nothing and nowhere to go.

He would have wanted you to pack your stuff. He didn't know you had nowhere to go and he could never have known that you spent so much time terrified of what you were going to do now. Jobless, homeless, left with nothing but the clothes on your back with the luck of the draw in who you had chosen as friends.

John hadn't kicked you out of the house. He sent you multiple text messages asking when you were coming to get your stuff or if you wanted it dropped somewhere before you finally caved and ditched your old number for a new one. You didn't want anything that was at his house. That house was once yours to share with him and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with that now. Those clothes he loved to peel off of your body at the end of each night, chucking them over his shoulder to be picked up haphazardly off the floor in the morning after he ravished your body.

His hot kisses down your stomach, on the insides of your thighs were still burned into your bodies memory. They refused to shift when you spent nights aching for him in more ways that just to be held. Nobody filled that void. Not the nameless, faceless men who'd fallen into your bed somewhere late into month two or early into month three of the breakup.

And this date certainly wouldn't be any different.

He talked straight about himself for the first 55 minutes before he got up to go to the bathroom and you actually found yourself hoping he would escape through the window and leave you with the check. Your hoping was to no avail in the end, he did come back.

"So, get this- oh my god!" He cuts himself off, almost letting his fork clatter down into the plate as you fight the urge to let out the heaviest sigh you've ever harboured. "Is that who I think it is?" He breathes. You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to turn around as you stab your fork aimlessly into a lettuce leaf to bring up to your lips just before you pause. "I don't know, depends on who you think it is." You want to utter something about the fact you don't actually have eyes on the back of your head, but you end up stuffing that lettuce leaf in your mouth to stop yourself from the snarky response before you have the opportunity to let it escape.

"Turn around, looks an awful lot like John Sto-

This time a fork does clatter down into the plate. Except, the fork is yours and the plate is also yours and your dress is now covered in the sauce that was carefully perched on the edge of that plate and the eyes of the man who's name didn't even fully make it out of your dates mouth are now fully set on the table where the noise had come from.

"Holy shit, that is John Stones, that's so fucking cool!"

You literally want your chair, or the ground or even just the world to swallow you up right there and then. Instead, you immediately raise to your feet, keeping your back to him in hopes that he can't tell who you are from wherever he is and you do not dare chance a look around at him. Summer's just gone and you know he'll have been on holiday. He's bound to have one of those John Stones tans that makes him look absolutely impeccable. There's no way you're ready to face him yet.

"You can get his autograph or whatever, I'm gonna go clean up." You hurry past your date, making a beeline for the kind woman behind the bar who had been giving you sympathy glances all night while she had been serving you in the upscale bar and grill type restaurant. She knew that you were having the date from hell and no you were approaching her, covered in sauce with flushed cheeks looking like you might just burst out into tears at any given moment.

She quickly offers you napkins and hurries off to the back room saying that she's sure she has some baby wipes in her bag that'll be more helpful for getting the stain out of your dress. You keep your head down, back facing John as you pretend to admire the drinks along the back wall of the bar.

"(y/n)?"

His voice is exactly how you remember it, but better. He sets you on fire right away. He speaks to you like he always did before that injury. With kindness, with love and with softness. "Please, please tell me it's you. Please." He pleads, his voice begging and full of sincerity. The hurting can he heard in his tone like he's more trying to convince himself that you're actually there than he is waiting for you to answer.

John feels like he's just conjured this up. He's spotted a woman with hair something like yours and he's latched onto the idea that it could be you. This is Manchester, this is where you lived together. This was a place you had been together. That could be you. He knows you anywhere, even from the back of your head.

You turn around, swallowing the thick lump in your throat. John's heart is in his throat, almost releasing a sigh of relief when he realises that it is actually you. You are actually standing right there in front of him looking like the pinnacle of beauty you always have been.

"I-"

"Don't you dare." You spit, eyes tearful and words sharply pointed. John snaps his mouth shut immediately, taken aback by a tone he'd never heard from you before. "I never wanted anything back from you, John Stones. Nothing. All I ever wanted was your love and a future with you. Six years, six fucking years we were together. I thought we were building a life together!" You hiss tearfully with a quivering voice. John can tell you're trying to keep your voice down so as to not disturb the rest of the people dining. Your date is looking on rather awkwardly at the whole encounter and you couldn't care less. He was selfish, entitled and self important anyway.

"We were," John insists. His eyes glisten just as yours do under the lightning in the restaurant. You scoff immediately. "Could've fucking fooled me. Must've misread the situation when you told me you wanted fuck all to do with me and were no longer interested in any of the plans we made. Do you know how that feels John?" You press, tears streaming freely over your cheeks.

John shakes his head shamefully.

"Well to quote your very own words against you, John; 'you wouldn't know, because you've never had something you love and want as much as I wanted that'. I wanted a family with you. I wanted all our years and you wanted success. You wanted someone to stand by your side like a trophy wife? Not me. Fuck you, John Stones. Fuck every single last bit of you."

Getting you back might not be as easy as John had initially anticipated.

#john stones #john stones imagine #john stones x reader #john stones imagines #england national team imagines #manchester city imagines #football imagines #footballer imagines #footie fics #football fics #footballer fics

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antiloreolympus · 3 years ago

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10 Anti LO Asks

1. I think the romance in LO isn't very good bc take out Hera, Aphrodite, Eros, etc it's like would these two even talk to each other, much less end up married? Like RS has made it too much that the plot forces them together than actually showing what would make them work as a viable couple and showing them wanting to be together. If anything she's spent more time showing them avoiding each other to now rushing them into a relationship with no build up and expecting us to buy it as "true love" 🤔

2. I really wish RS would stop putting the women of lo in ugly buns. Hera hasn’t been able to have her hair down in so long and I really miss it. I think double buns can be cute but when it’s just a lazy bun it doesn’t look good.

3. so what exactly is unique to persephone now if shes 99% just whatever was given to her by the other goddesses? because all i can gather is her being obsessed over hades and doing whatever he wants that even hera and minthe never did and that's it :/

4. OK BUT I NOTICED THAT TOO why is so much of the merch and promo material for LO ONLY Hades?? Isn't thiss ssuppised to be about Persephone? If I didn't know better it would be as Hades is the lead character while Persephone is a secondary at best character, which is sort of an issue when it claims to be about a "feminist reclaiming" of PERSEPHONE'S story. He has more time spent on him, more history, and all the relationships/development too. Is this a ruse? Was he the actual lead this whole time?

5. lo persephone is so underdeveloped as it is that her now being literally reversed developed to where her own personality, emotions, and ambitions are all from others almost seems like a joke, but it's not, it's rachel thinking this is great writing to make persephone so devoid of any complexity and nuance that she's not even a character, she's just a checklist of being "perfect" and that's it. even the worst example of mary sue characters have more going for them than this.

6. there's no other way to cut it, LO going on for nearly 4 years now with 190 episodes and the main couple isn't even officially DATING is just ridiculous, especially when t's only been a MONTH in all that time. this is not a slowburn, it's writer incompetence combined with monetary greed, there's no other way to put it.

7. not only can persephone not logically ever compare to the queen of the gods anyway (and if RS tries she truly does not get mythology at all) but also its bad writing to make your LEAD CHARACTER only look "the best" by devaluing everyone else, especially when it's women against women, which RS has already done towards Minthe, Aphrodite, etc. If Persephone is truly amazing she wouldn't need RS to constantly tear every woman down and make her double blessed in everything to look even ok.

8. I really think LO should have only been one season. It still would have been longer than normal but if she had actually planned ahead and paced it it would have told a tight story going off on a high note, because it really feels like S2 is just hot mess after hot mess. S1 was not perfect but it was salvageable, but this season (and possibly s3 if it happens) is just too long, too directionless, too full of random plots and twists, and nothing has been wrapped up. It just broke it IMHO.

9. Apollo : "I am the son of Zeus!"

*pretend to be shocked *

Everyone who know mythology : .....We know.....and even in the comic it was obvious because he was purple like Z.

10. The trial felt like the bare minimum but all the characters act like it is the end of the world. Like Persephone can still talk to nymphs and other non god deities. There is no mention of working to help the shades she created or the people of the city who had nothing to do with the farmers who were hurt. But mortals don't count as they are the lost caste in this story where classism is fully supported at about every turn.

#anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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lorenfangor · 3 years ago

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Elfangor/Loren fic prompt (no need to go Full Universe, a snippet is fine!): Tobias & the kids are sent back to 1983 via Sario Rip just long enough for him to meet his parents.

you asked for a snippet, a snippet is what you're getting, lol

"This mall is totally screwy," Rachel said, sitting back down beside Tobias and glancing around the food court. "There's a Chess King, and a Contempo Casuals?"

"Yeah, so what?" Marco asked, putting both his elbows on the table. "What does that tell us?"

"It tells us that we're back in time," Rachel said. "Seriously back in time, you know?"

"I mean, I think the Cretaceous, or the Battle of Agincourt, probably counts as 'seriously' back in time," Jake said. "What's the big deal about the stores, anyway?"

"It means it's the 80s," Cassie said unexpectedly, and everyone looked at her, surprised. "What?"

"How do you know what year it is?" Jake asked at the same time that Rachel said "Obviously it's the 80s."

"There's a Software Etc.?" Cassie said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "They got rid of those in '94, didn't they?"

"And there's an Orange Julius," Tobias said. "I thought those were only through Dairy Queen."

"What is an Orange Julius?" Ax asked. "Is it edible?"

"Yeah, if you really like OJ," Marco told him. "Okay, so it's the 80s. What does that mean for us?"

"It means we've gotta be careful," Jake said, bringing his voice down. "Really careful. Like, is this still our mall, the one in town?"

"Yeah," Rachel said. "The layout is the same even though the stores are different, and the food court tables are the same too, look."

"I don't know what that says about our food court," Marco cut in, eyeing the formica dubiously, "but I don't like it."

"Oh, come on, it's obviously been cleaned," Rachel said. "I mean. I think it has."

All eyes turned to the tabletop. Silence reigned, all six of them staring at the table, until finally Cassie shook her head with a sound of disgust.

"This is disgusting," she said. "You're all being disgusting. I'm gonna be thinking about this forever, thank you Marco."

"A pleasure to be of service to you," he quipped, grinning. "I think we should - !"

"Shut up," Jake said, waving his hand suddenly, cutting off the chatter. "Everybody, shut up, and listen."

"What?" Marco asked. "Somebody asking why there's a bunch of barefoot kids running around in bike shorts?"

The glare Jake sent him made him shut up, and the six of them clustered together, glancing over their shoulders.

"Okay, so what's so special about color graphics?" an unfamiliar voice asked. "It's not like you need color to do things like code, or type, or even play games."

Tobias turned around in his seat, zeroing in on the source of the sound. A woman, maybe twenty years old, was sitting a few tables over from them. She had long blonde hair that waved in the way he knew meant hours of careful hairspray and curling iron offensive maneuvers, and she was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt tucked into peg-rolled jeans that were a shade of blue he knew Rachel was going to hate. It was her voice they'd heard.

Across from her, shoving mozzarella sticks into his mouth as fast as Ax would usually eat a cinnamon bun, was a tall, sandy-haired man who even Tobias had to admit was almost too handsome, rugged and chiseled in that underwear-model way that kind of crossed the line back into beautiful. He swallowed at least two of them at once and answered her.

"What's special is that colorized computer displays are over a thousand years old," he said, leaning forward and taking her hands. "And I'm tired of dealing with obsolete equipment. I already have to pretend like I care about the latest updates from IBM at work, why should I have an Apple II that runs slower than molasses?"

"I don't know," the woman answered, leaning forward to match him, grinning at him. "Maybe I like it when you curse at circuit boards." She slid one of her hands out of his, reached up, and dabbed at something on his chin. "You had marinara sauce on your face."

Something sparked between them when they smiled at each other, something electric that ran through the air. It half-escaped Tobias, but somehow what little he did catch pushed him to put his arm around Rachel while he watched.

"Color graphics are over a thousand years old?" Marco stage-whispered, looking from Ax to Jake to Ax again. "What the hell?"

The man dipped his head down, quicker than lighting, and licked up the sauce from the woman's finger. She burst into a shriek of laughter, almost pulling away from him, but he grabbed her wrist with his other hand and levered his weight onto his elbows, leaning in to kiss her.

<Stop teasing me,> he said, without using words, and Tobias thought his heart was going to hammer itself out of his ribcage. Everyone else was flinching, staring at each other across the table, open-mouthed and wide-eyed; he slumped down out of his chair onto the floor, cracking his head against the linoleum.

He knew that voice.

"Tobias?" Rachel cried as the chair slid back with a screech. "Are you okay?"

He ignored her and rolled onto his stomach, crawling out between the metal legs of the chair, staggering up to his feet and lurching across the food court to the pair of seemingly-human lovers.

"You..." he began, staring at the woman and the man as they jerked apart and looked up at him, fully aware of the fact that he sounded like a crazy person. "You're - you're Alan Fangor, aren't you?"

"... yeah...?" the man said, sounding guarded. There was something in his eyes that spoke of sharp edges.

"I - fuck, shit, fucking hell - I know you," Tobias said. He was hanging on to the edge of the table like his life depended on it, and his eyes were so full of tears already that everything was a brightly colored blur.

"Alan," the woman - mother, he realized, my fucking mother - said carefully, "we should go."

"No!" Tobias answered, shaking his head. "No, please, I just - !" He sucked in air, sinking to his knees, half-certain this was some kind of trap and he was seconds away from death, or else that he'd never left that damnable room with Taylor and her torture device. He shook his head, trying to look up at what he thought was probably his father. Whatever happens, if we snap back, if this is some Time Matrix bullshit, if this is the Ellimist - just let me say this, just let me hear them -

"Elfangor," he said, dropping his voice to a near-whisper. "Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul." His voice lilted as he spoke; Aximili had taught him the counterintuitive pronuciation as it was said aloud. "I know you." He blinked, and for a moment the tears were clear, and he was staring at his father's human face.

"I'm your son," he said. "From - from the future. 1998. I'm your fucking kid."

#replies #nikosheba #animorphs fanfiction #elfangor/loren

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uswntxfootball · 4 years ago

Text

wonderland (kristie mewis x uswnt!reader)

all the memories and suppressed feelings flood back when she gets called up to the national team again.

word count: 2624 ish

rated D for dumb idiots. also F for flustered reader. and A for a little angsty.

——

it was tuesday morning when you had a near death experience.

jordan thinks that you’re being overdramatic but you don’t listen to her anyways.

on your off day of training the team decided to go out to have a nice breakfast together at a cafe.

there was the usual banter, disgusting couple moments (you constantly made gagging noises at them), and general stupidity.

after a bit the conversation dulled a little, but spiked again when jordan said:

“hey doesn’t the uswnt roster drop today?”

oh crap you forgot about that.

“oh crap yes it does.”

you were pretty sure you were going to make it again.

you’ve been very constant with your playing, scoring goals nationally and at the wsl alike.

still you couldn’t help the nerves that crept their way up your skin, and you handed your phone to jordan to have her read the list .

“read the list of midfielders aloud for me would you?”

the forward accepted it without hesitation, this being a usual exchange between the two of you.

jordan scanned the page a few times before smiling:

“i am proud to present the midfielders for the 2020 netherlands camp-“

“oh stop it just get on with it.”

“well i was before you rudely interrupted me-“

“alright whatever well keep going then.”

“julie ertz.”

“ditto.”

“lindsey horan.”

“also a given.”

“rose lavelle.”

“obviously.”

“catarina macario.��

“i’m not surprised.”

“sam mewis.”

“uh huh”

“and yours truly, y/n y/ln.”

the table cheered a little and you blushed, taking a bite of your avocado toast to hide your smile.

“oh and kristie mewis.”

and then you inhaled sharply, choking on your bite of food.

“who?” you managed to get out through a fit of coughing.

your inquiry was met with an array of exclamations.

“do you not know who kristie mewis is?”

“sam mewis’s sister?”

“won the challenge cup with dash?”

“dated rachel daly?”

“how do you not know who she is?!”

“you’re american for god’s sake!”

you ignored them all and instead said to jordan:

“can you hand me the water?”

jordan furrowed her eyebrows and handed you a glass of water as you coughed away.

you shot her a thankful glance before it was broken again by your nonstop coughing.

daan turned and slapped you a few times on the back which helped slightly.

for the rest of the breakfast jordan noticed you were much quieter, resorting to staring off into space instead of filling the silences with bad jokes.

after breakfast she caught up with you.

“alright spill.”

you shot her a look of confusion.

“spill about what?”

“you and kristie.”

“there’s nothing to spill.”

“that’s a lie and you know that.”

“i- hey would you look at the time i gotta go!”

you glanced at your wrist quickly before running off.

jordan shook her head before yelling out:

“you don’t even have a watch on!”

steph watched the two of you and shook her head.

you and kristie were bickering about something across the field, too caught up in your own world to pay attention to the fact that training had ended.

steph and kristie were both boston college grads, and the two had been close friends before signing together.

kristie had taking a particular liking to you, and within the first week of training you found yourself included in everything the they did.

the three of you played for the boston breakers, sharing an apartment, a car, and consequently all your personal spaces as well.

and so it was only fitting that the three of you bickered.

a lot.

you and kristie more than anyone.

“that is the worst show in existence!”

“no it is not the cinematography is fantastic it’s-“

“no the acting is so bad!”

“no it’s not i-“

“you just have bad show choices.”

you gasped in offense.

“take it back.”

kristie grinned and stuck her tongue out at you.

“never.”

“well then you better run.”

kristie’s eyes widened when you lunged at her.

she took off but you, being faster tackled her to the ground.

your fingers dug into her sides and through a fit of laughter she relented.

“okay okay! i take it back! you have good taste in shows!”

you grinned triumphantly and stopped, your hands on both sides of kristie’s head as you looked down at her.

kristie’s cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved slightly as she looked up at you.

you were briefly aware of the pounding in your ears and butterflies in your stomach.

your eyes locked onto hers and unbeknownst to you you were leaning in but kristie was very, very aware of it, and just as she was about to lean in as well, steph’s yell broke the two of you out of your trance.

“hey training is over idiots!”

you shoot up so fast that your vision goes a little bit black.

you stumble a little bit before finding your balance.

“shut up mccaffrey you almost gave me a heart attack.”

you look down to see kristie still on the ground before you stick a hand out to help her up.

“what were the two of you even fighting about?”

you gave kristie a pointed look before saying:

“this idiot said my show choice was bad.”

steph thought about it for a minute.

“well i mean she isn’t wrong.”

kristie lets out an exclamation after hearing that.

“see?! i told you!”

“hey! you took it back!”

“doesn’t mean it isn’t true!”

“i’m being bullied.”

“oh shut up y/n.”

adjusting your mask and sunglasses, you made your way out of the plane with a few of your teammates.

you had just landed in the netherlands, and coming from england you had a shorter flight compared to most of the team, who would be landing in an hour or so.

you were brimming with excitement at meeting up with your us teammates, as you hadn’t seen them since the beginning of the pandemic.

even then you didn’t get to see them often as you played in the wsl.

you had signed with arsenal in 2017, after the league folded and the boston breakers disbanded, as you were done with the american soccer system.

england had welcomed you with open arms, and you soon made a home there, flying back every so often for national team camps and games.

so when the pandemic hit and a handful of your teammates signed for international clubs, you were ecstatic.

even if they signed for opposing teams.

at least none of them signed for chelsea.

christen gave you a little tap when she saw your suitcases, and you gave her a thankful look before going to grab them.

when everyone was settled, you made your way to the bus and set off on your way to the hotel.

“sam how excited are you that kristie is coming?”

your head snapped up at the mention of the midfielder’s name, an action sam noticed but didn’t comment on.

“i’m so happy! she’s happy too on being called back and can’t wait to see her old teammates again!”

your cheeks flushed a little when sam’s eyes met yours at the end of her statement, and you suddenly found the ground very interesting.

it was a little later when you arrived at the hotel and rose kicked your foot that you looked up.

making your way into the hotel was an interesting experience.

on one hand you were beyond excited that you were back with the national team, yet on the other hand the prospect of seeing kristie made you want to throw up a little bit.

it’s not that you didn’t want to see her.

you were nervous because you liked? like? her.

of course this you realized way after you had left the us.

or rather, just as you were about to leave.

you stood, heart racing as you stood in front of kristie’s door.

your hand hovered above it for a little bit as you tried to swallow and breathe normally.

you had already told steph and the rest of your friends but why was it so much harder to tell kristie?

were you afraid of what she was going to say?

that you were going to leave the country, leave the nwsl, and leave her?

you take a deep breath to calm down and you gave it a little knock.

the door flies open in less than a second.

“y/n! what are you doing here?”

kristie’s cheery demeanor rattled you a little bit.

upon seeing your face she frowned.

“what’s wrong?”

“i-“

your mouth was so dry and it trembled a little.

you could feel your heartbeat in your ears, tears threatening to spill.

kristie’s looking at you with a face full of worry now, and you couldn’t get the words out.

“i-“

you close your mouth again and take a second to look at her.

noting the ways her eyes sparkled and the way her hair was falling out from her bun in little curls over her shoulders.

and then it comes out in a hushed whisper when you least expect it.

“i’m moving to england.”

kristie looks at you too stunned to speak.

she whispers:

“when are you leaving?”

you look down at the ground.

“tomorrow.”

you keep your eyes trained on the ground, too scared to look up at her, knowing that when you look at her the tears you’ve fought so hard to hold back are going to spill.

the silence that falls between you is too heavy. too thick. too constricting.

you find yourself lunging forward towards the midfielder, wrapping her in a hug as the tears spill.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

kristie doesn’t say anything.

she just hugs you harder.

you break away when you have to, but as soon as you turn kristie grabs your wrist.

you turn to ask her what’s wrong but her lips are on yours in an instant.

before you can even process what happened she pulls back.

“you’re going to kill it in england.”

and then she walks into the apartment and shuts the door.

ironically you walk into a door when you see her.

to be fair it wasn’t your fault.

it was hers.

well maybe it was yours.

your head had been all over the place in the past few days, ever since the prospect of seeing her was brought up.

when you had left five years ago, you couldn’t help but replay that kiss over and over in your head.

you couldn’t believe all the signs you had missed.

so yeah.

you were nervous.

and so with music blasting in your headphones, you were prepping for a run, and subsequently not paying any attention to where you were walking and she opens the door right in your face.

you stumble a little bit backwards, before falling down.

you haven’t even looked up, instead sitting on the ground rubbing your forehead and cursing.

it’s when a pair of sneakers appears in front of you that you look up.

and you actually choke on air.

before you stood the woman you had been thinking about, sporting an amused smile and quirked eyebrow.

she says something you don’t hear and it’s only when she leans down and takes your headphones off that you notice them.

your cheeks flush and you mutter an embarrassed “oops” which elicited a chuckle from the midfielder in front of you.

she extends her hand out to you and you take it, sparks shooting up your arm at the contact.

she pulls you into a hug and the two of you quickly fall into conversation.

here up close, you can spot all the changes and similarities of the girl you left 5 years ago.

the five years had been great to her, she was now even more breathtaking than before, no longer the awkward kid but a gorgeous woman.

she almost looks like a completely different person.

almost.

but you notice the same ways her eyes sparkle when she talks, the way the corners of her mouth tug up slowly when she smiles, and the way she tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear and you know this is the same girl you were so smitten with 5 years ago.

“you done checking me out now?”

your gaze snaps back up to her face and blush, a little surprised by her statement.

kristie gives you a teasing smile before saying:

“come on i’m just joking.”

she even has the audacity to wink at you.

and this behavior continues.

for the whole training camp she flirts with you.

you’re a little taken aback by the confidence in the girl.

with the constant winking and flirting and fleeting touches you’re pretty sure she’s trying to kill you.

“y/n. y/n!”

sonnett’s voice snaps your gaze back onto her face.

“sorry what?”

“you were so far into la la land i almost had to get ryan gosling to come get you.”

you shoot her an annoyed look.

“oh shut up no.”

your eyes drift back to the other side of the field, to where kristie was.

sonnett rests her chin on your shoulder and says:

“so who are we checking out today?”

you turn to her and scowl.

“no one.”

“you’re no fun.”

“no.”

“come on you love me.”

“no.”

and of course she scores.

of course.

no matter how hyped the game was.

or how difficult the netherlands defense was.

of course she scores.

she had been on for less than two minutes when she did so too.

you’re so excited you almost trip over your own feet.

she runs to you and you catch her as she jumps, and soon the rest of the team comes to envelop the two of you in a hug.

“i’m so fucking proud of you,” you whisper, and when everyone has relaxed a little, she kisses you.

it’s firmer and more insistent than the one from five years ago.

it’s almost like she knows what she wants and what you want.

you pull away after a few seconds, but only because you have a game to win still.

“come on kris let’s kick some ass.”

you let go of her and the two of you make your way back to your positions.

a few of your arsenal teammate shoot you teasing glances, and you blush when you meet them.

and when the whistle blows thirty minutes later, they make sure to tease you about it after the game.

you see kristie walking towards you and you grin, but before she gets there sam steps in front of you.

you look up at her, and when she doesn’t speak you fill the silence.

“i promise not to hurt her.”

sam quirks an eyebrow and leans in to whisper:

“you better not. or i will tear off your arm and beat you with i-“

“sam!”

kristie gives her sister a little slap in the arm before pulling you away with her.

“hey.”

“um h-hey,” you stammer, rubbing your neck nervously.

“you’re so cute.”

you blush a bit, your heart racing.

kristie catches your hand when it comes down and intertwines her fingers with yours.

“go on a date with me?”

you blush even harder and nod enthusiastically, not trusting your voice at this point.

she gives you a look before leaning in and connecting her lips with yours.

“hey please don’t bang my sister on the field!”

#kristie mewis #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines

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subjecta5newtella · 3 years ago

Text

Glader Cup fic 2, Brenderesa, 1708 words

Her opponent’s name is Rachel, and Brenda has lost to her twice in the last year and a half. She’s a little infamous in their kickboxing circuit—which isn’t saying much, but is still saying something—for being an absolute fucking bruiser despite being the same height as Brenda and not weighing much more. She’s got this sharktooth grin that Brenda would probably think was attractive if she didn’t hate her guts, but she does hate her guts, so she just wants to punch the smile off her face.

It’s down to them for first and second place, her two qualifying bouts out of the way quickly and easily. Those hadn’t been what she was training for, not really. She’d been training for this match. More than that, she’d been training for this point in the third and final round.

She’d thrown a lot at the first one hoping to pull ahead early, and it had worked, at least initially. Two out of the three judges had ruled in her favor, including the center ref, who hadn’t seemed to want to award her any sort of points the last time she was in his ring. She’d paid for it in the second round, though, out of breath and on the defensive. Three of three had ruled in the other direction.

So it’s the third round, and Brenda hates this girl’s guts, and she’s not fucking losing to her again. Minho’s in her corner for this fight since Vince is off with Gally in the other ring, and he’d played on all that anger during the break, using a lot of extremely unsportsmanlike language just quietly enough to not be overheard by the refs.

“Fight!” the center judge calls, and they clash briefly, Brenda leading with a pull double sidekick that Rachel sidesteps, countering with a frontkick that Brenda barely deflects with an elbow. They pull away and circle, tense and wary, both a little worn out from their previous fights and the first two rounds, neither of them ready to admit it. Rachel fakes a sidekick, which might startle someone who isn’t used to it, but Brenda’s familiar with the way she uses it as a stalling tactic by now. Instead of flinching, she throws a side-round-bounce round combination, two clean hits on the roundkicks, but before she can follow up, Rachel’s fist slams directly into her nose.

They’re not technically supposed to hit to the face, but there’s a general understanding that shit happens, as long as it’s not repeated or with too much force, and Rachel in particular is a master of that particular tightrope walk. It’s probably not intentional, but it feels that way sometimes, and it sure as hell feels that way when the blood starts flowing.

“Break! Medic!” the center ref calls.

Minho guides her over to a chair, passing over the towel he’s been using to hold her mouthguard in between rounds. She’s in the middle of trying to figure out how to hold it to her nose with her gloves still on, which isn’t particularly easy, when the medic appears in the part of her vision not blocked by the towel.

And holy shit, she’s the most beautiful person Brenda’s ever seen. Dark hair tied up in a bun, eyes like the sky over the ocean, an odd kind of elegance to her movements that’s enough to make the shitty gray medical staff polo she’s wearing look almost flattering. Brenda’s never thought of anyone as elegant before, especially not anyone she’s seen at a tournament, and yeah, she’s a little dazed, but she’s pretty sure it would be true regardless.

“Can you breathe?” the medic says, as though her presence six inches in front of Brenda’s face is not making that a whole lot harder, but Brenda nods anyway.

“Okay. I’m gonna have to go ahead and touch it, alright?”

Brenda nods again. It might shut down her brain for good, but hey, sometimes that’s a risk that needs to be taken.

The medic runs a latex-gloved finger over her nose, up and down the bridge, pressing just a little, then to both sides. “Was there any sharp pain to any of that?”

“No.”

“Okay. It doesn’t feel like it’s broken, just bloody, which means if it stops bleeding in the next minute or so, I can clear you.”

Sitting next to a beautiful girl while sweaty and disgusting and holding a towel to her nose isn’t exactly Brenda’s idea of romance, but at least she’s sitting next to a beautiful girl, so even if the rest of the fight goes horribly wrong, at least there’s that. Not that she has any intention of letting the rest of the fight go horribly wrong.

The next time she puts the towel to her nose, it comes away clean. She stands, and the medic asks, “Are you okay to keep going?”

“Yes.”

The medic turns to the head judge and nods, and Brenda steps back into the center of the ring.

She needs to hit first. She needs to be faster, because she knows if Rachel hits first, she’s not making it through the round. She watches the judge’s hand, all her weight balanced on the balls of her feet, and the second he says, “Fight!” Brenda pulls her knee in and rams a sidekick into Rachel’s stomach. She only stumbles back a little, not enough to do any real damage, but it doesn’t matter because Brenda bounces up a roundkick that hits her squarely in the side of the head that stuns her for long enough for a followup blitz (jab-jab-cross-hook, Brenda’s preferred combination practiced over and over and over until she can do it half-dazed and covered in blood and partly-blind with fury).

There are forty-five seconds left in the round after that, but none of them really matter. Rachel stays on her feet through the whole thing, but she never recovers a rhythm, too flat-footed to evade, always a little too slow on the counter.

The moment she hears “Thirty seconds!” the mental countdown starts in earnest, and with seven seconds left, Brenda throws a hook kick that knocks Rachel’s guard down, bounces it back up to a round kick, and follows it with a jab-cross-hook combination. It’s fucking perfect.

“Time!” the timekeeper calls, and before the refs can call it, she knows. She’s streaked in blood, and she’s grinning, and god, her whole body is going to hurt so much tomorrow, but right now she could keep going like this forever.

She’s not surprised when they call it in her direction, and she almost never feels that way, but this time she’d scraped out every single point and known they’d counted. She could get used to this, could get used to the feeling of the center judge raising her arm to signify the match victor.

The ref steps away and the fighters touch gloves. Rachel pulls her in to clap her on the back and says, “Good fight,” mostly breathless, and she sounds genuine enough that Brenda feels maybe a little bad about how harsh her internal monologue had been.

“You too.”

“Next time,” Rachel says, which Brenda is pretty sure would be accompanied by that shark smile if she hadn’t still had a mouthguard in.

Brenda matches it with one of her own. “We’ll see.”

She turns back and ducks under the ropes, and Minho wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not gonna hug you, because you’re covered in blood and that’s disgusting, but holy shit. Great fucking fight.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s head over to the medic area, just to make sure there’s no real damage. I suspect you’re fine, given that last round, but I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind talking to her again,” Minho says with a smirk that Brenda would kind of like to punch off his face if every impact from the fight wasn’t starting to hit her, because suddenly he’s far more a childish gay instigator than he is her cornerman.

He’s not wrong, though.

She catches the corner of the velcro strap of her glove with her teeth, pulling that one off, then the other. She removes her headgear, stuffing both gloves and her mouthguard into it, then shoving it into Minho’s hands.

“Can you put this in my bag?”

The smirk grows, but he nods, then says, “Wait, hold on.” He tucks the headgear under an arm, reaching out with the other hand to fix her hair. “Okay. Now go.”

She grins. “Thanks.”

She heads over to the medical table, and the medic motions for her to sit down, grabbing a new set of latex gloves.

“That was a good match,” she says as she pulls them on. “You don’t see a lot of people rally quite that well in the last round.”

“Do you fight?” She doesn’t necessarily look like the type, but some of the best fighters Brenda’s ever met don’t look like they could throw a punch if you meet them in any other context.

“No, but I’ve seen quite a few. I know what I’m looking for.”

“Am I what you’re looking for?” Brenda says, and then her heartrate’s back to what feels like a thousand beats a minute because holy shit, she’d really just said that, hadn’t she? Post-win high was a hell of a drug.

For the first time, the medic’s professional demeanor slips, and she grins. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I don’t know where that came from. Sorry?”

“Don’t be sorry. My name’s Teresa, by the way, before we get any further into ‘Hello, is it me you’re looking for’ territory.”

“Brenda.”

“Oh, I know. Your teammates are loud.”

“Oh, god yeah. They’re super supportive and I love them, but they’re all insane.”

“I believe it.” She strips off the gloves, tossing them in the trash can. “Anyway, good news, you should be fine other than some bruising. Take it or leave it news...I’m free Sunday.”

“Definitely take it.”

Teresa grabs a marker off the table, writes her number on a piece of medical tape, tears it off, and slaps it on the cuff of Brenda’s handwrap.

“Text me,” she says.

Brenda does, but when she fights the next week, she leaves the tape on for good luck.

#the maze runner #tmr #tmr brenda #tmr teresa #brenderesa

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