#but we will try and we will work things out and muddle through together and it will be worth it

[gloomwalking]

rough week emotionally + period didn’t help but it is finished now + had a big heart to heart w jamie which has cleared the air so much and made everything feel lighter and less huge and terrifying and unthinkable . everything will be okay + we love each other so very much and love really truly is the main thing :’•)

[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 7: You finally find, you and I Collide.

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - Ellie turns 16, and the night goes even better than you and Joel had planned.

A/N: GUYS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH SCREAMING AND GIGGLING TOOK PLACE WHEN I WROTE THIS CHAPTER. TRUST YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, dirty dirty thoughts, masturbation (f+m), language

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Planning for Ellie’s birthday was challenging, but not because of the actual party. No. It was because of how much time you were spending with Joel.

It was really testing you, especially when he’d do things like turn up at your house with flowers or a pastry - jus’ a little thank you for all the help, y’know - he’d tell you, or when he invited you to his house and you’d turn up to him freshly out of the shower, hair damp and skin glistening, the water droplets clinging to him and just begging to be licked off.

Or like right now, as he was almost curled around you showing you the chords to a new song on the guitar.

For Ellie’s birthday, you of course suggested singing something for her; and it wouldn’t just be a simple ‘happy birthday’ (although you did plan on embarrassing her with that at some point during the event), it would be a version of one of her favourite songs - Take On Me.

Joel told you she listened to it all the time on her Walkman and even asked him to teach it to her, but she just couldn’t grasp all of the bar chords it required.

You could though, but still with some difficulty, resulting in Joel having to put his hand on yours to guide you through the motions, resulting in you practically in his lap as he manoeuvres this, and resulting in you being so flustered you can’t help but mess up the chords over and over again, causing the cycle to continue.

“Can we take a minute?” You ask, trying not to huff in frustration as you strum yet another muted note, fingers not quite strong enough for it when your brain is so muddled from the proximity with him.

“Sure, darlin’. Wanna do somethin’ else?” He smiles softly. He’s so at ease with you now, and it makes your heart flutter knowing you managed to secure a little bit of Joel’s affection and companionship for yourself. Lord knows it makes about half the female population in Jackson envy you.

You nod, and the two of you discuss the actual event. You decided on the Tipsy Bison, and easily secured a day there considering Joel’s relations to the 2 in charge, and your status as a performer there. Joel will help get Ellie there at around 5, and you and her friends will surprise her.

For decorations, you’ve made a ‘happy birthday!’ banner and a few hanging streamers. You also put in an order for a chocolate cake at the town bakery - Ellie’s favourite flavour according to Joel.

About 2 hours later, you’ve managed to get through the song a few times with him, and he’s left you with his handwritten sheet music to practice. As he uses the bathroom, you war with yourself in your mind because, you’re staring at the music right now and getting giddy thinking about the fact that he hand wrote the entire song out for you, and you’re blushing because his handwriting looks so good. You know it’s stupid and keep trying to snap yourself out of it, but your heart keeps thumping in your chest, telling you how special this all is and how much all this time spent together must mean.

He comes out of the bathroom and you can’t help but ask if he wants to stay for dinner. He says yes, of course, and you start cooking up some venison.

You sit down and pour some whiskey for the two of you - a risky move, which you’re fully aware of, but you don’t actually mind at this point. What happens, happens, right? You use this same logic when refilling the glasses.

He’s courteous as always, complimenting your cooking, thanking you for the help with Ellie’s birthday yet again, and offering to wash up afterwards.

“No, no, you’re my guest, Joel. Just sit for a bit. I know I’m exhausted after today.” You sigh, picking up the plates.

“All the more reason I should be cleanin’ up for ya,” he argues, and you just roll your eyes, moving to the sink.

You settle into a peaceful silence. It’s late, you’re ever so slightly drunk, and you’ve had a really long evening. It’s so quiet, in fact, that you let your thoughts wander, and don’t realise he’s coming up behind you until he accidentally nudges your hip, making you shriek and almost drop the mug you were washing.

“Shit, Joel!” You gasp, before dissolving into laughter at how much you overreacted.

“Sorry, hon.” He smiles lazily, making your heart flutter. His thumb tweaks your nose and your brows furrow. “Dunno how you got soap on yer face.” He mumurs, and you blink at him before coming back to your senses.

“Oh! Thanks, sorry.” You squeak, turning back to finish the washing and to hide your blushing face. He comes up next to you to help with drying everything off and your heart is about to burst from your chest by this point because you’ve just realised how domestic you’re both acting right now, how domestic this entire evening was. Talking with him on the couch after drinking coffee together, playing guitar before cooking, eating, and washing up, all together. There wasn’t a moment of discomfort or tension, and you realise just how wonderful he really is. And you realise how badly you want to kiss him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He’s zoned out looking at something through your kitchen window, thankfully, so you can look at him a little more clearly. You just want to grab his gorgeous face and kiss him with everything in you. It’s been months of waiting, building all of this tension until you can finally have him. Maybe the alcohol is getting to you, but you’re about to actually act on what you’re thinking when you realise your hands are covered in soap and so are his, and that it’d probably be weird to grab him and get soap all over him, making you sigh and shake your head.

The two of you chat some more about the birthday party before he leaves, and you practically run up to your bedroom, throwing your clothes off and then throwing yourself into the bed.

You hated the apocalypse for many reasons, and one of them was the fact that you still hadn’t managed to find a sex shop with any toys still in working condition. Your fingers would have to do - and right now they were actually working just fine as you worked yourself up, tracing slow circles around your clit and hissing when you finally start applying direct pressure to it, your other hand cupping your breast and teasing your nipple. You close your eyes and imagine it was his calloused fingers roaming your body currently, imagine his lips all over your skin and on your cunt.

Your gasps get higher, louder, and when you finally tip over the edge, it’s his name which floats past your lips. Your entire body trembles as your hips buck from how hard you fuck yourself on your fingers by this point, wanting this orgasm to last as long as possible, your mind conjuring up downright sinful images of you and Joel in this very bed and making you so horny you can barely think.

You finally come down from the high, panting and trembling, and stumble to the bathroom to clean up before falling asleep.

-

Joel’s night doesn’t play out too differently from yours. The whiskey you’d so dangerously decided to supply him with clearly played with his mind, resulting in him getting hard towards the end of the night after bumping into you. He had to touch you in some way, and came up with the weak excuse of something being on your face - there was, but it really wasn’t necessary for him to touch you and get rid of it. He had to restrain himself from cupping your cheek and kissing you right there. Your fucking doe eyes, your parted lips and flushed cheeks were making his efforts to keep from getting hard futile, and he hopes he didn’t seem like he was running away at the end, since he was actually just trying to hide his boner.

He’s thankful Ellie’s already in the garage when he gets home, because he’d genuinely crawl into a hole and die if she saw him in this state - drunk, dishevelled, and horny. He runs up to his room and locks the door behind him, always a little paranoid, before pulling his boxers down and letting his head fall back against the door when he finally wraps his hand around his cock. The precome which falls from the tip already provides some lubrication, but he spits on his hand before continuing to pump himself, imagining what he could’ve done tonight, what could’ve happened in that kitchen.

He could’ve cupped your cheek, pulled you closer and kissed you hard. Your tongues would clash together and you’d melt in his arms as you let him dominate. When you parted from the kiss, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy, you’d look up at him through your eyelashes and-

“Fuckk.” He moans, breaths coming quicker as his mind jumps to the main event of this little fantasy, knees almost buckling as he quickly squeezes the base, trying to stave off his release just a bit longer.

It seems to work and he continues letting his mind wander.

You’d look up at him, wide eyes peering into his as you asked to suck his cock. He’d never make you - in fact, he’d probably just eat you out instead before fucking you - but if you wanted it he wouldn’t deny you.

He’d nod and you’d sink to your knees in front of him, getting to work fast and wrapping those plump lips around his tip, starting to bob your head. His hand matches the pace that your mouth is at in his mind and he groans, hand working over himself even faster and faster until he finally comes, spurting release onto his hands and stomach as his brows draw upward and he gasps your name.

-

July 28th finally rolls around, and you get out of bed unbelievably excited. You love Ellie, and you can’t wait to give her the best surprise ever.

The entire plan works perfectly, and she arrives just after 5 with Joel to the surprise at the Tipsy Bison. After everyone greets her, they sit to listen to your performance.

“Now, before we begin, I just wanted to say a few words for the girl this song is dedicated to,” you start, smiling as your eyes meet Ellie’s, she’s sat at the front of the crowd of course. “Ellie, you are the most wonderful kid I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You never fail to make my day better, and you always make me laugh - even with that terrible joke book of yours.” She rolls her eyes playfully and there are a few chuckles from the group - clearly she submits everyone she’s close with to the torture of her puns. “We’re all so grateful to have a friend like you, and you deserve the best birthday ever. Hopefully we did a good job.” You chuckle. A few cheers from the crowd, Ellie already beaming before you start playing the song.

When you do begin the song, she actually squeals from excitement, bouncing on her feet. You didn’t know her to act so excitable, especially in public, but it just makes you even more proud since you’d clearly done well by surprising her with this song.

Talking away,

I don’t know what I’m to say

I’ll say it anyway

Today’s another day to find you

Shying away

You don’t want the mood to be too low, although you smile softly at the sight of Ellie and Dina holding hands and murmuring to eachother about something, clearly having a little moment together.. but this is meant to be a party.

So, your strumming gets faster, singing louder and increasing in speed too, as you get some cheers from the crowd, a grin spreading across your face when you hear Joel’s encouragement too. Some people sing along, and people eventually start swaying and dancing. You take a little pause afterwards as people socialise, putting a song on the jukebox and setting your guitar down, sipping some water.

Ellie comes up to the stage with Joel, her smile so wide it prompts your own. You love making people happy, especially kids, and especially this kid.

“That was so fucking awesome! Thank you so much!” She beams, coming up to you and hugging you tight. Your brows raise and you hug her back, meeting Joel’s eyes. He has that look in his eyes you’ve noticed a lot more recently. You refuse to believe it’s the look of love, but.. what else would it be, really? It’s definitely some sort of affection for you, seeing you bonding so well with his surrogate daughter.

“That’s okay, honey. I’m really glad you liked it.” You say, and she thanks you again before requesting another song by A-ha, and you nod, recalling how to play it thankfully, before she leaves to go talk with her friends.

You sigh happily as you watch her go, beyond pleased with the outcome of the party, almost forgetting Joel who still stands before you.

“You were amazing, sweetheart.” He says, still smiling, making you blush when you thank him.

“‘s all thanks to you, Joel. You taught me the song.”

He hums, hands in his pockets. “But you played it up there, and you did it so well.”

“I guess…” You mumble, still a shy reciprocant of praise even after playing and performing in Jackson for all these years.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You’re a real star.” He says, voice a little softer now, just intelligible over the music. You meet his eyes, so earnest and warm as they gaze into your own, and your breath catches.

“Thank you.” You say at last, smiling bashfully.

An hour later, some alcohol in pretty much everyone’s systems (even Ellie’s, after much pleading with Joel, arguing that 16 is basically 18 and that it’s the apocalypse anyway, man!) and your singing session over, the jukebox takes over and plays songs randomly. You sigh wistfully when ‘Collide’ plays, reminding you of that night not so long ago with Joel. The first of many perfect nights spent with him. He seems to have the same thought as he meets your eyes across the room.

Thank fuck for the alcohol, you think, when he comes up to you and boldly asks for a dance. There are people still on the dance floor, mindlessly chatting and dancing, so it wouldn’t be too obvious or embarrassing, you figure, nodding and taking his hand. You almost shudder at the feeling of it - have you even held his hand until now..? You don’t think so. But you still manage to control yourself.

That control flies out the window when you actually start dancing. The song isn’t exactly made for slow dancing, but you’re still close, and you know you’re close enough for him to see you blushing. You don’t really know what possesses you, because after a few murmured words, looking up at him as you dance, you’re taking his hand and somehow dragging him outside. Nobody even notices, and you’re thankful for it, unsure of how to navigate things after you finally do it.

You finally kiss him.

You get outside of the Tipsy Bison, soft orange light painting your faces, a cool breeze in the air. You exhale shakily, thinking of what to say before looking back up at him. All logic and thought fly out of your mind when you meet his eyes. They’re glowing in the sunlight, yet his pupils are so dilated as he looks at you. You can’t think straight and all your mind - no, your heart - is telling you to do is to just kiss him.

So you do, and it feels perfect.

Months, months of torturous waiting for this moment, and it’s actually fucking perfect.

He’s stunned for a second before he’s kissing you back hungrily, a hand tangling in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist, spinning and pinning you back against the wall. You moan softly as he presses into you, forgetting himself briefly.

The soft sound brings him back, though, and he parts from you, forehead resting against yours as he pants softly. You giggle, adrenaline high, and he smiles, huffing a little laugh.

“Well, shit.” A voice comes from your side, and you squeak, eyes shutting before you turn to see Ellie. She’s grinning as you squirm, the cheeky little bugger.

“Ellie-” Joel begins, suddenly sobering up, worried that Ellie won’t be comfortable with this at all.

She is though, laughing to herself before muttering “fucking finally” and heading back inside.

“She’s not wrong,” you murmur, still smiling, “that took us way too long.”

He nods, agreeing before kissing you again, a little softer this time, but it still makes you weak in the knees.

If he wasn’t drunk, and it wasn’t Ellie’s party right now, he’d definitely ask to take you home.. But he can’t tonight. You don’t ask either, probably in the same thought process as he is.

That doesn’t stop you from spending the rest of the evening together, chatting with friends here and there, but being inseparable otherwise.

It definitely doesn’t stop you both from darting back outside at least 5 more times during the night to make out like a pair of horny teenagers, either.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @dendulinka6 @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @roryfuckedurmum @s0meoone @joyfulllittlething

[eponymous-rose]

Some (many) thoughts on Arcane s2 while it's still fresh in my mind:

(tw: discussion of fictional depictions of suicide)

I'm gonna do some nitpicking here, but only because I really did like it overall - I think for me s1 was a solid 10/10 and this season was an 8.5/10, so I'm certainly looking forward to rewatching it! The animation was a big step up from s1's incredible work, the music was great, the performances were fantastic. I do think the overall writing/story fell down a bit, though.

It's weird, because my go-to when character arcs feel rushed is to want more episodes, but I don't think that necessarily would have solved my issues with this season.

Cait turned on Ambessa on a dime - we love to see it, but I think we maybe needed a few more overt hints of her discomfort with her position, maybe a sense of wrongness in their adoptive relationship and some parallels with Jinx & Silco given what Vi says early on ("why are you the one acting like her?"). Ambessa believes her daughter to be lost, and Cait has lost a mother - they were certainly playing on that substitution, but the eventual turn, while fun, felt a bit quick and unearned. I saw someone joke about the word "Cupcake" flipping Cait back like a sleeper agent, but that's kinda how abrupt things felt.

I think Mel's plot largely hung together okay, although it was pretty disconnected from everyone except Ambessa - would've loved to have seen some acknowledgement that Cait was filling her shoes as Daughter for a while there.

Isha was sweet and I liked the parallels with the Powder-Vi relationship (LOVED Jinx running with the pink chalk and Isha with the blue), but I think the sacrifice metaphor got a little muddled. The parallels with Powder charging in and killing everyone around her, versus Isha charging in and saving everyone but herself felt a little forced and I struggled to see how they served the greater narrative. The whole point of Powder's failure was a messy combination of bad luck, overcompensating for what she perceived as a lack of confidence in her, etc. Isha had Jinx's confidence on her side, I guess, and now of course we have the foreshadowing of Jinx dying to save someone else, which she's been trying to do since Act II.

Suicide was a pretty heavy concept throughout the first season. We had the parallels of Jayce and Viktor, we had the little-remarked-upon moment where Viktor hesitates before cutting the wire on Jinx's bomb. I actually think this season did pretty well with those two (although I'll talk about a couple things that irked me below), but the concept that we can't escape the things that we've done and we instead have to find salvation in those around us felt kind of contrary to Jinx's finally finding a way to die for her sister. I don't know that Jinx's story was necessarily supposed to feel satisfying or complete, but without another season there's not much to dig through there.

And that brings up the main reason I don't think more episodes would have resolved my quibbles with this season: it was pretty prone to overexplaining. To me, one of the most exceptional things about that first season was how little it explained. You had these gorgeous, evocative flashes of Vander trying to kill Silco, Silco stabbing him and fleeing into the night, and that's all we needed! That's it! We didn't need to know the specifics, we didn't need more backstory than that - the whole point of the season was that these kids are trying to make their own stories, and these guys have set the stage and are in the process of bowing out. Much as I loved the glimpses this season into the past generation's adventures, it felt like it was pinning something down that was more effectively left to the imagination.

There were also some weird fumbles with discussions of disability, especially in that last episode. I loved so much of what season one did with it - the older generation of Zaunites almost all had some form of disability due to the way they'd been systematically poisoned and their constant exposure to danger, and that was a really in-your-face way to challenge the early "why can't we all get along" stuff. And so much of Viktor's and Jayce's arcs are tied in with the sense of time running out and how Heimerdinger's long-term goals are incompatible with helping the people suffering right now. But instead we get this weird "you didn't like your imperfections so you tried to eliminate all imperfections", which doesn't quite ring true.

We just fundamentally didn't get to a resolution that I think was heavily implied, especially in Act II. "No one in power is innocent" is a great, raw line, but we didn't really see it play out. Instead, we have everyone stopping from othering each other in order to band together against an even bigger Other. As a side note, I don't think that Sevika's ending is meant to be a positive thing - we see from the skeptical looks of others that she's got a long road ahead. The revolution we saw coming just sort of fizzled out, and I think it's still on the horizon, which makes things feel incomplete.

There were also a lot of notes that repeated instead of echoing or harmonizing. We had variations on the theme of Vander dying three different times. We had Vi being unable to kill her sister several times. The repetition felt a bit like it was filling time instead of moving things forward the way s1's plot kept pushing.

This season is also the first time I felt the hand of League of Legends Canon shoving the plot into place. We knew Vi was heading for that enforcer uniform, but after the initial conflict it sometimes felt more like we just unlocked a new skin for the character. The Vander-as-Warwick stuff was kind of silly and out of left field, although it was executed pretty well and certainly pulled at the ol' heartstrings. Ekko getting his time abilities was fun and impacted the final fight, but I feel like we were missing something there as well that I'm having a harder time putting my finger on. Some of Viktor's lines felt designed to make the League players in the audience go "HE SAID THE THING". And I hate the feeling of setting up the Next Installment in the Cinematic Universe, probably just because I'm exhausted with Marvel stuff - I'd love for an adaptation like this to be able to really and truly stand on its own.

Overall, it just felt less like the characters were driving the story and more like they were ticking off boxes, which is just something that any good finale has to contend with one way or another.

Anyway, that's a lot of nitpicking. Fundamentally, this felt almost like it was a really strong fic that did a surprisingly good job of wrapping everything up and was stunningly put together in places... but still lacked the spark of the original.

Stuff I loved: Vi/Cait getting a pretty strong arc and certainly the first lesbian sex scene I've ever seen in a TV-14 cartoon. Animation and score was stunning. I did love the what-if of episode 7 - something I've been waiting for them to acknowledge is that literally everything that happens in the show follows from that one break-in during episode one. I actually think Vi and Jinx's reunion and reconciliation felt earned.

I'm curious how I'll feel on subsequent rewatches - the first time I watched s1, I remember being blown away but not in a "this is the best thing ever" way, and it wasn't until the second time that it really clicked for me.

[jeezlouiseoncheese]

yeah, I know that “the Fears work differently in TMAGP” and all, but isn’t it weird how much the Eye (for the most part) seemingly doesn’t? Like, lots of the fears in TMA had cults and roles and practices closely tied to their existence, and only the Eye gets to keep both the Institute (and, assumedly, by extension the Archive, which is already established as something core and closely important to the Eye outside of Jonah Magnus’ involvement) and its Archivist/s? Heck, it even keeps the tape recorders, despite them being so closely tied to the Web in TMA— while the rest of the Fears become more and more muddled together, the Eye as a Power seems to be far more separate and powerful.

The other entities left may have semblances of avatars, but none of them represent one clear Fear anymore, not like [ERROR] clearly represents the Eye. I mean, what is Mr Bonzo? The Stranger? The Flesh? The Slaughter? None of the “externals” fit clearly into one or the other, beside maybe Lady Mowbray. And even then, she’s got cannibalism mixed in, so there’s hints of Flesh again. And to add onto that, none of them seem to understand what they’re doing. Sure, most of them understand that it feels good and they want to do it, but none of them seem to understand what’s behind it. We haven’t met any cult fanatics with strange powers or people who use their patrons to their advantage. There’s no apparent Smirkes or Leitners trying to understand or catalogue them, not counting whatever the OIAR’s trying to do, given that’s probably at least partially led by the Eye itself with jmj and FR3-D1. Meanwhile, whoever or whatever [ERROR] is, they clearly understand their role. Their purpose seems a lot clearer than the other Externals, clearly connected with the tape recorders rather than being done just out of a need to feed or for murderous fun. Not to mention Eye-aligned things have always had more clear roles and purposes as opposed to other avatars— we don’t get examples in TMA of Eye avatars or entities outside of the Archivist(s) and the Pupil of the Eye, to the point (in my opinion) I don’t think there are any. Ink5oul doesn’t know why she does what she does, and she’s terrified. [ERROR] clearly understands why and what it is, even if we the audience don’t know that yet. I think it’s clear to me that the Eye may have been tricked in order to get out, but it still has some power above the other Fears in this universe. It’s still early enough that the other entities don’t have cults who know their names or establishments that serve them in secret, but the Eye already has the OIAR through FR3-D1 and jmj. It’s already watching. It tried something with the Magnus Institute already, it’s already planning things. Usually that’s the Web’s job, but we haven’t really seen much Web-adjacent stuff. A little addiction related things, sometimes a little creepy-crawlers and losing control a little, but nothing obviously Web (at least in my opinion). No spiders (sad. My arachnophobe brain misses being spooked by that in audio form), no manipulation, no grand plan you can’t— okay maybe a little of that. But it’s not as huge a focus as all the Eye stuff is, which is… weird. The rest of the fears seems to be grouped up together as more of a conglomerate of “Externals” that the OIAR (which is very Eye-aligned atm) “works” with in some way (interesting dynamic there. just reinforces the whole “the eye has the power still” idea for me), but the Eye remains separate.

Just makes me really curious how that’s going to develop once these Externals get more clued in on what they’re feeding.

[amuseoffyre]

Just had GO s2 on in the background while I was doing some craft and some percolating thoughts came out of the first Maggie and Nina exchange.

Nina: See anything you fancy? Maggie: Oh. Yes. Coffee. Nina: The usual, then? Don't tell me, it's in here. You're a skinny latte. Maggie: You remembered :) Nina: A lot of people in this head, and a lot of coffees, but I only remember the regulars.

Now bear with me on this mental ramble as I try and put these thoughts in order. I'll divide it into three points:

Mind-altering and memory muddles

There's a running motif through the whole season about memory and the loss thereof:

Gabriel removing his memory ("all the bits that make you you")

Crowley forgetting who Furfur was repeatedly

Aziraphale and Crowley's miracle basically casting confusion over the bookshop and muddling everyone's minds

the threat of erasure of memory and demotion (and am still sure Muriel is a previous demotee on account of the 37th level thing. 3s and 12s! Those are the recurring numbers in the book! 37 doesn't make sense! 36, yes! 37, no!)

putting memories somewhere else (Gabriel's fly but also Aziraphale's journals)

Coffee

As with the memory element, coffee is a running theme through the whole show as well.

Crowley chugging espressos like there's no tomorrow

Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death - "does anyone ever choose death?" asks the Metatron, when the answer is obvious

Coffee's symbolism in the final 15. Let me yell about the symbolism of Coffee = Crowley and all things mortal and living and human and earthly. OR DEATH. ("I have ingested things, you know")

The flavours in the Metatron's coffee order also having allegorical symbolism - almond branches in various parts of The Book are a reminder that God is Watching.

The human avatars of the angelic and divine

Initially when I started watching S2, I assumed the parallels between Maggie and Nina were obvious: Maggie, the sunshine one, is the Aziraphale, while Nina, the grumpy one, is the Crowley. But I was wrong.

Nina is the human avatar of Aziraphale.

Maggie: how can you think about that after all this? Nina: People need coffee, I sell coffee, it's my coffee shop.

Nina defines herself by the place she works, it is who she is and she does it because people need it (coffee), much like Aziraphale defines himself by the place he worked (Heaven), it's who he is (an angel) and he does it because people need it (goodness).

Likewise, when they go and tell Crowley off for the way he's interfered in their lives, Nina says she's just getting out of a messy relationship and isn't ready for something new yet (again, Aziraphale and Heaven vibes because that fully impacts every decision Aziraphale makes through S2) and if Maggie is around when she's ready, then maybe, they can try. ("If she's there" "I will be :) ")

And then we have Maggie, the Crowley avatar. Useless at saying what she wants to say, tries to express herself and her emotions with gestures and gifts, offers her company and time when Nina needs it, happy to help her despite the way Nina is wary of the kindness being shown.

By the end of the season, Nina is caught behind the bar of her coffee shop, working and serving ungrateful people, while Maggie is alone in her empty shop, asleep on her counter, paralleling Aziraphale going back to work in a place where he will run himself off his feet to do the right thing, while Crowley is left with an empty shop.

But now to spin back to the original quote from 2x01, it feels like all of these motifs are tying together and foreshadowing something, very possibly an Aziraphale who has lost his memory/had his memories stripped away.

Let me rewrite the lines with only a tiny couple of changes:

Aziraphale: See anything you fancy? Crowley: Oh. Ngk. Company? Aziraphale: The usual, then? Don't tell me, it's in here. You're the demon Crowley. Crowley: You remembered :) Aziraphale: A lot of angels in this head, and a lot of demons, but I only remember the regulars.

If I'm right, he remembers Crowley, but only the surface level like Nina remembers Maggie. Nothing about who they were to each other, nothing about what has happened. But have no fear, Muriel has the bookshop and the thousands and thousands of years of Aziraphale's memories bound up in text form.

Especially prescient since Muriel is given a book by the Metatron Crowley which is a novel where a man pieces together a story from documents that have been left behind. Schroedinger's journals will be making a return in S3, I have no doubt.

[roosterbruiser]

hellooo!

i have a request - i’m obsessed with your writings (truly a god’s gift to this fandom) 🥹 i’m thinking grey’s anatomy inspired jake x (aviator)reader them having a conversation along the lines of ”stop looking at me like that” ”like what?” ”like you’ve seen me naked” after they hooked up and see each other at work or something ughh 🥵

hope all is well and that u have an amazing day <3

𝟖 𝐎'𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

"If you don't stop staring at me, I'm going to read you the entirety of Title IX on our lunch break."

"That sounds like more work for you," Jake says with a chuckle. He lets all his weight rest on his cocked hip, tutting. He's chewing on a tooth pick, watching your nose scrunch as you squint at the sun to watch them work on your jet. "Besides--what's the harm in me getting a good look at you?"

The sun beats down on your face as you stand on the tarmac before Jake. You're watching your jet get inspected, your helmet tucked under your arm, and Jake won't leave you alone. You can't say that you mind it all that much--but there are appearances to keep up around here, especially around the other flyboys that are horsing around further down the tarmac. You're not supposed to get along with Jake--no one is, really--and the way he's making googely-eyes at you is surely going to give everyone the opposite idea.

But you can't help the certain elation that captures your chest when you feel his aspen-colored eyes outline your form from the point of your jaw to the lift in your boots. Usually, it would be easier for you to effectively tell him to fuck off. After last night, though--things feel a bit muddled.

"The harm is that everyone's gonna know we fucked if you keep looking at me like that," you say curtly, taking a shuddering breath.

Jake barks out a laugh.

"Look at you like what?" He challenges.

You finally turn towards him, trying to maintain that sour look on your face.

Fuck, if he isn't a beautiful creature. He looks even more beautiful than he usually does, entirely sun kissed and proud as he stretches to his full height beside you. The tooth pick he's chewing is making his jaw flex so deliciously, the way you know it had when he was sucking mercilessly on your clit last night in the darkness of your bedroom.

And he is looking at your eyes, the way they dazzle in the unforgiving sunlight, the way you're frowning up at him even though he knows you don't want to. He's thinking about last night, too--of course he is. God, he doesn't know if he'll ever stop thinking about last night. The way your hips felt when they were flush against his, the way your warm walls squeezed him. He filled you up just right--both of you knew it.

The two of you even woke up together this morning--on accident, of course. You pretended not to be embarrassed as you hastily got dressed, but he couldn't help the ease and contentment he felt just from being in your presence so early in the morning. He loved how flustered you were as you tried to roll your eyes and groan through the whole morning-after thing. And he loved that you had little bits of mascara under your eyes and what your hair looked like in the morning--soft, very soft.

Your eyes widen and you poke him in the chest with an indignant pointer finger.

"Like that!" You hiss, locking your jaw. "Like you've seen me naked!"

Jake just grins--something in your chest softens. You fall back on your heels and think fuck. Last night definitely wasn't the last time despite what you told him when you woke up this morning.

"But, honey!" Jake says, stroking your cheek before you can dodge his touch. "I have seen you naked."

You all but growl--he keeps grinning, even pinching your cheek.

"I'm gonna shoot you down myself," you tell him. You turn, determined to have the last word. But then something--you're not sure if it's lust or affection or pity or insecurity or all of the above--stops you. You turn and look at him over your shoulder and he's still watching you, grinning. "Eight o'clock."

He salutes.

"Idiot," you call.

But as soon as your cheek is turned, you're smiling.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞!! 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!! 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬!!

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 4}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: At the reception, you're in the spotlight in a few different ways. Felix seems to be a little too good at this fake dating stuff, making everyone at the wedding believe you two are madly in love. While you try to figure out your own feelings, your ex certainly doesn't seem to handle it well. // genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut // word count: 5.9k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes //a/n: Thank you for being patient my little cherubs! Life has gotten hectic, but this is a bit longer of a chapter than I expected. 💘 if you're not on the taglist and would like to be, please reply to this post or send me an ask!🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The weather couldn’t be more perfect for this reception. A cool breeze flutters through the cream table cloths in the reception area. Felix has his hand on your lower back as you walk in, looking at the small place cards to find your names. You can tell by the dueling decor of the reception that the bohemian switch was recent. Your arrangements bring that artsy, free spirited vibe with the traces of twine, lace, and grasses, but most of the decor follows the standard wedding trends. The drapery is pressed and pristine, the tableware was white with gold detailing, and everything is shiny. It definitely isn’t unattractive, but you know that it clashes a little in terms of taste.

The table setting for the bride and groom was front and center, currently empty while the wedding photographers took advantage of the golden hour sunset in the vineyard. At one end of the table sits a large light green, tiered cake. The theme of the cake is very floral - there are small bunches of pointy, textured leaves surrounded by a pattern piped on meticulously to look like macrame, adorned with small round sprinkles like scattered pearls in the frosting. It’s a gorgeous cake, complementing the floral decorations you had worked so hard on, as if you and whoever the baker is were on the same aesthetic wavelength.

“I’ll grab us some drinks, go sit down,” Felix says, trailing his fingers across the small of your back before leaving. You feel the loss of heat from his hand immediately and miss it. 

“Something sour for me please!” you call after him as you wander over to the table where you and Felix will be sitting. 

“Y/n!” a voice squeals behind you. Johnny’s younger sister comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your shoulders with a giggle. “It’s been ages! You look fantastic.”

“Lily! Look at you!” you said, spinning around to greet her. “You look like a whole-ass adult now!”

When Johnny had introduced you to his family, Lily had loved you right off the bat. You told her all about the flower she was named after and for a birthday gift one year, she made you a small ceramic garden pot with a pattern of lilies. One thing that Johnny could never take from you was the fondness his family still felt. When the two of you broke up, you were determined to keep in contact with some of them, mostly checking in on them from afar on social media.

“You have to sit right next to me!” she beams at you. Nudging you with her shoulder, she says, “You are also required by law to tell me about the pretty blonde boy you’re with.”

You beam at her. “That’s Felix, we’ve been dating for a few months. I’ve known him for years now but we only recently started dating. It still feels brand new.”

“Between you and me,” she says, leaning in with a whisper, “I like Jenny but I was really hoping for you to be my new sister-in-law back in the day. Johnny’s an absolute ass for losing you. But I’m glad you found someone! Especially someone who looks like they walked out of an elven forest.”

“Who walked out of a forest?” a deep voice questions behind you. Felix smiles down at the two of you, drinks in hand. He sets down a mojito in front of you, the mint and lime perfectly muddled together.

“You, obviously!” says Lily, excitement tugging at her lips as she gestures towards Felix’s appearance up close. “You’ve got a whole Legolas thing going on.”

Felix chuckles as he sits next to you, scooting his chair close enough that his knee touches yours. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine the longer you feel his body heat seep into you at this simple touch. 

The wedding party starts to walk in as the music swells from the DJ’s booth. It’s like a second wedding processional, the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk in, this time a little more loose and casual. 

Felix drapes his arm around you and places his hand at the back of your neck, thumb resting right at your hairline. You look over at him and smile. He’s so good at this, it almost feels natural. The way his hands easily find your body, the way you lean into his touch, it’s like you two instinctively orbit around one another. You fell into this so easily, it’s easy to forget that after the wedding is done, it’ll be over. 

It’ll be over. 

You clench your teeth together hard at the thought, dejection filling your veins. In an effort to drown the bittersweet feeling, you knock back the rest of your mojito, the mint cooling your throat.

Jenny and Johnny make their way in, smiling and waving at everyone as the DJ announces them. Johnny’s eyes scan the room and he falters for a moment when he spots you. At the same time, Felix starts to massage the tense muscles of your neck, fingers gently trailing up into your hair with a light scratch. You lean in to the comforting touch, your eyes glazing over, fully forgetting Johnny’s sharp gaze. The cool sensation of the mojito does nothing to quell the warmth building in your stomach. It’s a bold feeling, a confidence simmering in your body under Felix’s kneading hands. Fuck it, you think. If this is the one night you get to be with Felix, you’re not going to let the opportunity slip through your yearning fingers. If there’s a night to let the delusion take control, tonight is that night. You put your hand on his thigh, squeezing into the muscle of his thigh, mirroring his motion on your neck. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him readjust in his chair, lurching slightly in his chair.

After the couple sits down at their table, the food is served. The vineyard must have a special deal for big events like this, because the food is also fairly boring. The focus is definitely on the wine pairings over the actual dinners served. There’s bland chicken, sauteed summer squash, and some kind of starch. What they lack in interesting food, they make up for in wine selection. A sommelier flits around the room with the medallion shaped tastevin around their neck.

You’re not even paying attention to the meal to be honest, with the way that Felix has shifted his chair so close that his thigh presses up against yours. He seems like he’s attached to your hip, obsessed with the way you brush your fingers up his leg absentmindedly. Even when he’s just chatting with the rest of the table, he finds a way of touching you somewhere, his body needing to be in constant contact with yours as much as possible. Your hand finds its way onto his body just as often, wanting to soak up as much of this feeling to burn into your memory.

A hush falls over the room as the toasts begin. The bride’s mother makes a teary eyed speech about a new chapter in life, the best man makes a thinly veiled sex joke, and the maid of honor gently threatens Johnny’s life if he’s not able to keep Jenny happy. There’s a strange tone the maid of honor has when speaking about Johnny, a sarcastic sneer marring her face that feels a little too genuine to brush off as a joke. Jenny keeps nervously sipping at her champagne, a rosy hue painting her cheeks, eyes downcast. 

Felix’s arm is resting on your shoulders, pulling you into him more and more as the speeches go on, to the point where you have to wrap an arm around his waist to stay balanced. He smells so good, the slight perfume from the glass of wine on his breath and his fresh scented cologne mix together, swirling around you. Every time he chuckles at one of the toasts, it rumbles through you, a feeling more than a sound. Before you know it, you find yourself leaning your head onto his shoulder, tracing your nails over the embroidery of his shirt - your hand having slipped under his suit jacket a while ago. 

As the speeches drone on, Felix leans down towards you, face inches from yours, and murmurs, “Have I told you how good you look this evening?”

You look up at him, focus shifting back and forth between his dark eyes, he’s so close. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well, allow me to mention it again,” he chuckles, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. He whispers even lower, “Did you see the look Johnny gave us when they walked in?”

“Barely.”

Felix hums. “Distracted?”

“Yeah, someone was massaging my neck so well, it made me forget where I was,” you say, a coy smile playing at the edge of your lips.

“Well…” Felix responds, his whisper at ASMR levels in your ear, making your skin tingle. “I could see why he’d be jealous.”

“Time for the cake!” Jenny’s voice squeals out, her volume rising as much as the color in her cheeks. She and Johnny stand as one of the event staff workers brings them the cake cutting knife and the photographer hovers around, flashing pictures as they both grasp the knife. 

They slice into the bottom tier of the cake, the green frosting giving way to a dark chocolate cake inside. They each take a piece on a small plate to feed to the other, Jenny laughing as she takes her fork and boops Johnny right on the nose with the frosting. Everyone in the crowd giggles as Johnny stares at her with a gob of green on his face, cheeks reddening.

The giggles turn to a collective gasp as Johnny takes his small plate, picks up his piece of cake, and smears it all over Jenny’s jaw, smashing it into her face. She yelps in shock as Johnny cackles. 

“Hey babe!” he cries, teeth glinting in the flash of the camera. He points to his chin, mocking her. “You got a little something right here!”

Jenny just stares at him, taking in the situation. No one is cheering or laughing other than Johnny, the room is full of uneasy murmuring. Slowly, Jenny begins to laugh, diffusing the tension only slightly, as she begins to wipe the cake off of her face. Her laughter doesn’t meet her eyes, you can see that much from where you’re seated. Felix looks at you with wide eyes, silently asking you what the fuck just happened. You shrug, just as shocked as he is. 

As the maid of honor rushes up to fuss over Jenny and her makeup, the DJ grabs the mic. He laughs nervously before trying to redirect everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone, line up for some cake! No need to use your face, we will provide you all with forks!”

A cautious titter runs through the room as people get up to join the line for cake. Felix smiles at you, biting at his bottom lip with his teeth. “Want to go get a slice?”

“Sure,” you say as he pulls you up from your seat.

“I won’t smash it into your face, I promise.”

As the two of you wait in the line for cake, Felix gets giddier, smiling wide and bouncing on his toes a little. You watch as different people in the crowd grab their plates, take a taste, and have a strange reaction. Some gasp in delight, mutters of wow echo around you, while others take their bite and their faces twist, bewildered at what they’re tasting. You have absolutely no idea what to expect when you get your plate as a staff member hands you and Felix a slice. The green icing and dark, moist cake look gorgeous, at the very least. You start to lift your fork to your mouth.

“Wait! Don’t take a bite til we’re back at the table,” Felix says suddenly, an impish look on his face. “I want to see your reaction.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, but oblige his weird request. You sit down, just the two of you, and you look at him, silently asking if you can finally take a bite. Felix is watching your every move, smiling with his bottom lip captured between his teeth. He looks like he’s about to unwrap a Christmas present. You lift the fork to your mouth once more, sliding it between your lips.

Mint... and chocolate? Your whole face scrunches up, it’s like toothpaste invading your dessert. One of your least favorite combinations, whoever popularized mint chocolate deserves jail time in your eyes. It dawns on you, looking up at Felix suddenly.

“You made the cake for this wedding?”

He’s giggling now, eyes disappearing into little crescents. “Yes! I told you mint chocolate was a controversial flavor.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” you exclaim. “Is that why you showed up so early?”

“Yeah, this was the delivery I made in the morning,” he says.

“So you’ve known Johnny and Jenny this whole time?”

Felix wipes his eyes from laughing at your reaction to the strange cake combination. “No, no - only Jenny. Johnny never came to any of the tastings, I didn’t put two and two together until today that we were working the same wedding.”

“So he was up my ass about the floral arrangements while he couldn’t even be bothered with any of the others?” you muse. What was it with Johnny constantly trying to undermine you? He neglected other wedding planning responsibilities while making sure he found the time to critique you. Then he stressed Jenny out by implying you’re incompetent. Is this the only reason he invited you?

“I guess. He really seems like an asshole, Y/n. How long did you guys date?”

“Just over four years. It was during college, we broke it off when we started drifting apart. Y’know, career stuff, different future plans.”

“Was he always this much of a dick?” Felix asks, taking a bite of his own cake. 

“Not really, when it ended, it sorta just fizzled out, but he wasn’t angry or rude when it happened. We agreed that whatever spark had been there previously had fully died. It got weird after we broke up when we tried being friends, so we became the kinds of friends you only see at big group functions.”

“He seems bitter. You don’t deserve any of that, whatever it is.”

“Maybe he is, I don’t know,” you say, pinching your brow. “Remind me in the future to never work at an ex's wedding ever again.”

“If it were up to me,” Felix mutters under his breath, looking away, “you wouldn’t have any future exes.”

“What?”

Just then, the mic turns on in the DJ booth, whining from the feedback for a second, drowning out any other conversation.

“Alright party people! It’s time for our two lovebirds to have their first official dance as a married couple!” The DJ says in a corny radio announcer voice. Jenny and Johnny shuffle to the dance floor, their smiles a little too tense to look natural. The DJ cues up their song, some slow ballad. You can’t even tell what it is because the way Felix laces his fingers with yours, squeezing gently, has your heart rate doubling.

Johnny and Jenny start their dancing, swaying back and forth. They’re not looking at one another, their movements stiff and a little awkward. Johnny steps on Jenny’s train, leaving a gray mark on her dress. She starts whispering angrily at him, their expressions fill with irritation. As the song ends and everyone politely claps, despite the awkward tension between the two. The DJ gets on the mic again.

“The bride and groom have requested that we open up the floor to all the couples in the crowd. If you’re in love out there, grab your partner and come to the floor!”

Felix grins wide at you and grabs your hand, pulling you out of your chair. You balk at him, following as he drags you to the dance floor. You join the other couples as another slow dance cues up. Johnny’s parents are there, arm in arm. His mother catches your eye and gives you a wink. 

Felix pulls you into his arms, clasping your hand in one of his and the other wraps around your waist. He brings your knuckles to his lips, placing a feather-light kiss on them. Your heart skips a whole beat, pounding extra hard as it catches up - you didn’t know it could do that. That’s something that only happens in romance novels.

He spins you around slowly, eyes locked on yours, his gaze soft and eyes sparkling. You’ve literally never seen a more beautiful person in your life, your breath catches in your throat just looking at him. The room fades away, you barely even notice the other couples that dance around you, the only person that matters is the one radiating sunshine in front of you. Warmth seeps into you where your bodies are pressed up against one another and you imagine the rhythm of your heartbeats match in this moment. 

You don’t even notice when the song changes and other people join in on the dance floor, filling all the extra space on the floor. Lily comes up and bumps you with her hip, smiling at the way you jolt in surprise. 

“You two look really good together!” she shouts over the upbeat music that blares through the speakers now.

She turns to Felix, who is still holding onto you, affection etched in every crevice of his face.

“We have a very fond place in our hearts for Y/n. You better take care of her, Legolas,” she says, playfully threatening him with a poke to the shoulder.

Felix laughs, pulling you closer, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. “I plan on it, you have my word.”

Satisfied with his response, she saunters away to dance. Felix takes your hand and spins you around, breaking the thick tension between the two of you. It’s so easy to get swept away by him, you almost let yourself believe he genuinely returns your feelings. He presses your back against his front as a sultry song comes on, swaying against you. He nuzzles into your neck, sending a shock of arousal through your body.

“I like putting you on display like this,” his voice nearly growls in your ear. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you decide to lean into the flirting, emboldened by the growl in his throat. Consequences be damned when he’s breathing into the sensitive skin of your throat.

“I like when you put me on display,” you respond.

He leans away from you, throwing his head back as he groans. You smile as you innocently grind your ass into his hips. His hands shoot out, grasping at your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. “You’re gonna get us both in trouble if you keep doing that.”

You laugh as you grasp his hand, spinning away from him like a ballroom dancer, yanking him towards you. He stumbles into you, laughing as he nearly tips over. Your arms wrap around him in a big hug as you both end up a giggling mess as you sway on the dance floor. 

Eventually, you find your forehead pressed against Felix’s, calming down but still beaming at him. 

“Hey…  I want to say thank you,” you murmur. Your voice is low, but he’s so close so you know he hears you.

“I’m a really good dancer, I know,” he replies, chuckling. “No need to thank me.”

You smack him lightly on the shoulder with a huff of laughter. “No, I’m serious. Thank you for being my date tonight.”

“Of course,” his voice dips low again. 

“You don’t have to keep up the act though, I think we’re believable enough,” you mutter, looking down at your feet.

Felix reels back at that, pulling his head away from yours to look at you. There’s a confused frown on his face. “Who’s acting?”

You avoid his eyes. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured to keep up a fake identity. You’ve definitely impressed everyone with the boyfriend treatment.”

“I’m not feeling pressured to do anything, Y/n. I’m acting this way because I enjoy doing it.” he mutters back intensely.

You roll your eyes. “Be for real, Felix. I know you don’t feel that way about me.”

“Who said I don’t feel that way about you?”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Who’s lying?!”

“Shhh!” you whisper. Your voices weren’t raising too much to be heard over the music, but you still wanted to be cautious. “I don’t need you getting my hopes up like that.”

“Y/n, I swear…” Felix says, clenching his jaw, looking away from you while he composes himself. His hands find your waist, gripping into the fabric of your dress, looking you deep in the eye. “You want to talk about getting hopes up? You want to talk about long nights chatting and trying my baked goods even when I had work at 4 AM? Or brushing up against me and holding my hands while I help you with floral stuff? Being there for me when I need you, knowing you will drop everything at a moment’s notice to help me? Today is the first time I’ve ever felt like you might actually feel something for me after years of being obsessed with you.”

“What?” You halt in your tracks on the dance floor, shock freezing you in place. He leans back into you, pressing his forehead against yours with a sigh.

“I have loved you for ages now,” Felix murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut. “I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You are silent, a thousand different emotions quaking through you as you listen to Felix confessing. Anger that he didn’t do it sooner. Fear that he might be lying. Shame that it took you this long to figure it out. But overwhelmingly you feel elation, your heart soars into your throat. Words escape you, knowing that there’s only one real way you can respond.

You grab him by the lapels and pull him into you, connecting your lips in one quick motion. His lips are plump and malleable, molding over yours as he gets lost in the feeling. He gasps, stealing the breath from your mouth, when he realizes what you’re doing. Pulling back slightly, he checks to see if you really want this, if your desire matches his. All he sees is your fierce gaze, dripping with lust as you lick your bottom lip, waiting for his response. This will change everything, but you’re ready to trust Felix as you fall. 

His hands cup your cheeks as he swoops back down, capturing your lips again. Plush and warm, your lips gliding against one another, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and nibbling lightly. You don’t care that you’re in view of everyone else at this reception, right in the middle of the dance floor. All you care about is the way Felix licks your bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. You surge into him, tongues entwining, falling into him further as you both battle for dominance in this heated moment. Arousal sears through you as you press your pelvis into his as your hands clutch the material of his jacket. You lose track of time and space, all that matters is Felix and his constellation of freckles.

You hear someone cheer, some applause, even a wolf whistle. You detach from Felix long enough to realize that the attention is on the two of you. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you pull away slightly from Felix, sheepishly smiling at those around you. You notice Bobby and Peter off to the side, beers in hand, as the source of the wolf whistles. You’ve never been so happy to be so embarrassed.

The reception continues, the two of you continue to dance and steal kisses throughout the evening. There’s a kind of magic between the two of you on the floor, one that other people notice. After all the stress of the planning, prep, and setup, you feel all that melt away as Felix encircles you once more, singing along to some of the songs in his deep voice.

The night continues, most people are a few drinks in at this point. The dance floor is getting louder and messier. Shoes have been kicked off, faces are red from exertion, voices are slurred. You have been so wrapped up in Felix to do anything other than flitting around the dance floor, depending on the song that’s playing. You catch up with your friends and some of Johnny’s family members that you’re fond of, introducing Felix to them. They offer him warm welcomes and knowing smiles.

 Jenny and Johnny are nowhere to be seen on the floor, staying behind their table for most of the evening. Jenny ventured onto the dance floor a few times for her bridesmaids, but for the most part, there’s a bit of a dark rain cloud over the newlyweds. Jenny leaves her new husband at the table and goes to whisper in the DJ’s ear.

The feedback from the mic squeals again as the DJ starts a new announcement. “Who’s ready for the bouquet toss?!”

You feel bodies move past yours, gathering into one area as Jenny stands at the front, ready to chuck the bouquet behind her head. One of your least favorite parts of any wedding, knowing how hard you worked on the bouquet. You and Felix stand off to the side to give the grabbing hands more room. Felix can’t be bothered to look at anything or anyone else in this room, staring at you with hearts in his eyes as he holds you at the waist.

“Just a heads up, I’m really bad at throwing!” Jenny says, with a grin as she turns around. She goes to fling it over her head towards the crowd, but it doesn’t go in a standard arc up and over. Somehow, physics worked differently with this bouquet. She tosses it over her head, it shoots out to the side, hitting Felix in the face.

He scrambles to pick up the bundle of flowers as it topples to the ground, spluttering through some of the pampas grass that got stuck to his mouth. The laughter that comes out of you is a deep belly laugh, you double over. Felix waits above you as you take a few moments to stop cackling in his face before he hands you the bouquet with a peck to your cheek. Even though there are a few disappointed faces in the crowd, you get another round of applause as you hold up the bouquet.

The mic squeals again, the constant interrupter of the evening, as Johnny grabs it suddenly out of the DJ’s hand. His eyes are bright and his cheeks are a ruddy shade of red, he’s definitely had too much to drink tonight. 

“Yeah! Everyone give it up for Y/n!” he slurs into the mic. “Our florist and my ex!”

There are a few scattered claps of confusion from the crowd, unsure of what’s happening. 

“We’re celebrating love tonight, me ‘n Jennyyyy,” he draws out the last syllable of his wife’s name, trying to sound cutesy. “Y/n, we’re so happy you finally found someone. We were starting…. to get worried!” 

He takes a few gulps of air to calm his hiccups, you start to feel the color rise in your cheeks.

“Cuz…y’know. That clock…. Tick-tock, tick-tock!” He waggles his finger back and forth like a swinging clock pendulum. “And you chose the baker! Give it up for the baker everyone! He made the cake tonight…”

You and Felix just stare in shock at Johnny’s impromptu drunken rant. Your heart drops into your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? 

“Y/n, why’s he so pretty? Too pretty for a guy, amiright? When… you first showed up with him… I thought! You had gone lesbian!” He guffaws into the mic. Peter, Bobby, and some of the other groomsmen start to make their way towards him from the back of the crowd, trying to get to their friend before he makes a bigger ass out of himself. Johnny takes another sip of his drink, “FUCK YOU GUYS, that’s funny! Hope you guys are happy, because I’m REALLY FUCKING HAP-”

Jenny yanks the mic out of Johnny’s hand, arguing with him in a low voice. Peter and Bobby come up to him, trying to grab him by the shoulders to take him out to the vineyard for some air. He tries to wrestle out of their grasp, shouting “HAPPIEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!” as they force him out of the reception.

At the same time as Johnny’s outburst, you’ve already turned on your heel, marching out of the reception through the main hall. You have no idea where you’re headed at this point, you just need to get away from all the chaos. Even though he was drunk, that gives him no right to insult you like that! Who the hell does Johnny think he is? Your face burns as the anger and embarrassment crash through you.

“Y/n, wait!” Felix catches up to you, grabbing your hand to get you to slow down. 

You’re panting, trying to get as far away from the reception as possible, but you stop at Felix’s gentle grasp. As you turn, he pulls you into a tight hug.

“I could go beat his ass for you if you want. I have like… a lot of medals in taekwondo,” he says. Your heart rate starts to slow at the deep pressure he wraps around you. Somehow, you manage a small chuckle as all of the anger pumping through starts to dissipate. 

“No, don’t do that,” you murmur into his shirt. Your eyes prick with tears, but you’re too mad to cry at the moment. “Just get me out of here.”

“Will do!” he says, pulling you in the direction of the main lobby. As you get to the door, he stops short. “Wait! I have to go grab you something! It’s important!”

Felix jogs away towards the kitchens, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You take a couple deep breaths, the summer evening air gentle and breezy still. It makes you so angry that Johnny needed to make himself feel big by trying to cut you down. 

-Putting you on the spot like that and attempting to insult you was the perfect cherry on top of this shitty event for you. You had worked so hard to make their floral arrangement look good, roll with the punches when there were huge changes at the last minute, and take it on the chin when he tried to insult you again and again. Attempting to insult you by bringing up your fertility, sexual orientation, or commenting on anyone’s gender was laughable to you, that wasn’t the issue though. Your issue is that Johnny continued to be the worst version of himself in an attempt to be spiteful towards you. He ruined multiple people’s night, including his new bride, by shining his horrible spotlight on you.

Felix jogs back with a small paper box and fork balanced in hand. He grabs for your hand with his free one as he continues down the hallway. He peeks his head into one room, the groom’s dressing room, finding it empty. Pulling you inside, he whirls around and shuts the door. On the nearby vanity, he sets the box down, opening it gently.

“I made you something,” he says, handing you the box. You peer inside and it’s a slice of speckled cake with a light yellow frosting. “I knew you weren’t going to like the mint chocolate one, so I made sure to grab a slice of the earl grey with lemon before I left this morning. I remembered it was your favorite from that batch I made last week.”

Your eyes water at the gesture. Felix always  remembers all the small details. He cares for you in a way you don’t even think about until it’s been sitting in front of your face for ages, plain as day. Of course Felix returns your feelings, he’s been so obvious about it now that you know! He would ruin his sleep schedule to stay with you, coax you to bed when you were too stubborn to do it yourself, bring you your favorite treats on your worst days without you asking - almost like he knew intrinsically what you needed. All the signs have been there for years that he wants to be more than your friend, your insecurities were just clouding the view. 

“Felix…” you murmur. Setting down the cake, you bring your hand up to his cheek, caressing your thumb over his cheekbone before placing a chaste kiss onto his lips. You pour all of your unspoken feelings into this kiss. Pulling back, you say, “I’ve loved you for so long, I got too comfortable in the unrequited feeling. I always talked myself out it.”

“I know you’ve had some…baggage with dating in the past,” Felix says, gesturing to the outside, as if pointing to Johnny. “So I’ve been waiting for you to catch on at your own pace.”

You smile at him, like dawn breaking on your face. “I’ve caught on.”

He leans down to kiss you again, hands cupping your face gently like delicate porcelain. The crisp, clean scent of his cologne wafts over you, and your hands clench in the fabric of his shirt as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss.

“Wait, wait,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want you to try the cake first.”

You huff out a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” he says, biting his bottom lip with a smile.

With a feigned sigh, you pick up the box and fork, stabbing into the fluffy cake. You take one frosting heavy bite. It’s just like you remembered - the herbal flavor complementing the tender white cake with the tang of the lemon curd and frosting burst in your mouth. It’s a beautiful combination of sour and sweet. Felix watches your eyes flutter shut at the taste.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say.

“Y/n, you’ve got a little-” Felix starts, tilting his head towards you.

“Oh my god!” you lick your lips, trying to get the extra frosting that escaped. Felix’s eyes are glued to your mouth, watching your tongue slide over your bottom lip. You thumb over the area, trying to wipe any excess off. 

“Did I get it?”

“No, not like that,” Felix says as his eyes darken. 

He grasps your chin in one hand, lifting ever so slightly, as his other hand drags a finger through the frosting of the cake, picking up a dollop, and smearing it on the side of your lip. 

The touch is electric, eyes locked onto his as he brings that finger to his mouth again. He licks the rest of frosting off of it, gaze never leaving yours for a second, watching your eyes dilate with want. “Let me help.”

He drags your face towards him, his tongue lapping at the frosting he’s smeared on your lip, pulling your mouth to his. This kiss is different, all the chaste feelings are gone. All that’s left is pure lust, a deep desire to claim the thing you’ve both wanted for so long.

taglist:

@binniesbabe @jeonginsleftcheek @ivydoesit23 @stayatinykatsy @mong---mong

@palindrome969 @dottydarling @chiaki-nanami-aesthetic @minnieprincess85 @jabmastersupriseee

@birdfool @jaquisos

[vaguelyapeanutbutterandjelly]

This isn't over, I hope you know.

Price x Male Reader Requested: Yes! But there were some technical issues. Pt 1 (Here! :])/ ??? Warnings: Break-up, Argument, Angsty angst angst A/N: *Drops this and scuttles away* This was intended to be longer but I'm cutting it in half to see if Tumblr will actually let me post it. If it does the 2nd-supposed-to-be-this-part will be out soon after :]

"Look, [Name], I get you need attention-" John started, following your pacing form as you quickly walked back and fourth in his office. Whipping your head to meet Johns gaze dead on. Your eyebrows raised as you stalled for a second. Jaw dropping as you quickly caught up with what he said, your blood boiling with nothing put resentment and frustration, "Attention? Atten-" Taking a deep breath you summoned all you had to just keep yourself from yelling. This was something that stayed between you, and him. "John when was the last time we slept in the same bed? Hmm?" You snarled, arms uncrossing so you could use them to accentuate your point. Anything to try and convey your anger to him, to somehow shove his own actions into his thick skull. John's eyebrows furrowed as he sat back in his seat. A calloused hand coming up to rub his beard like he did whenever a missions plan changed last minute, or a recruit did something stupid. He looked exhausted, and annoyed. Fucking. Annoyed. Like you were just a child that was having a tantrum over not getting a treat. Not like you were his boyfriend of 6 years. Like you weren't the man he'd laid in bed with, whispering honey sweet words of a distant future where you'd settle down and marry. Like you weren't justified for being upset that he'd been ignoring you for months in favor of his beloved taskforce.

"When was the last time we kissed, John?" You spat, "Do you even remember? It was a month and a half ago. 45 days ago." Throwing your hands up you began to pace again. Quickly walking back and fourth to try and do, something. You weren't even sure why you were anymore, your thoughts too muddled to make out anything coherent even if you tried. You were probably working yourself up, probably making yourself more angry then the situation called for. But at this point? You deserved to be angry. You deserved to be fucking pissed. You weren't even looking at Price, "Do you really have nothing to say, John? Do you-" John stood up, slamming his hands on his desk with a harsh slam. Making you jolt to a stop, eyes wide as you stared at him. Johns usual calm, even soft demeanor around you turning into something you didn't recognize. "[Name] for god's sake I don't have time for your shit. I have things to do and that doesn't include you having a tantrum in my office. Get your fucking act together or get out, lieutenant." John practically yelled through gritted teeth as he glared at you standing there. Probably looking like a deer in headlights. With a long exacerbated sigh he sat back down in his chair. His eyebrows knitted together as he looked down to whatever paperwork he was busying himself with. You simply stood there in shock. He looked so much different now then he did when you'd first met. Johns famous mutton chops were starting to grey and all the stress he constantly held made him look 10 years older. His soft baby blue eyes now were jaded and grey. Filled with a hardness you could only get through time. Then it just, clicked. John, your John, was always a workaholic. Against his best interest he'd work himself into burnout just to be overworked and under-appreciated the next day. Only to wake up in the morning and do it all again. But your John would always make time for you. He'd always make sure, even if it was 10, hell, 5 minutes, some part of his day was spent with you. That John would be the first to seek you out after missions and check you over for injuries. To make sure you were alright. His hand resting on your shoulder just a second longer then it should as he passed you a loving look. Grinning ever-so-slightly before going back to his normal stoic appearance. But the man in front of you wasn't your John. Your sappy lover was long replaced by Captain Price, smothering John with his overwhelming force until there was nothing left of the man.

[zkaus]

Daniel's Journey Towards Armand:

"He had been a young reporter, roaming the bars of the world with his tape recorder, trying to get the flotsam and jetsam of the night to tell him some truth."

"Well, one night in San Francisco he had found a magnificent subject for his investigations.

And the light of ordinary life had suddenly gone out."

"Now he was a ruined thing."

"He was an expert on Armand, wasn’t he, he had studied every detail of Armand’s youthful body and face."

"He had never been revolted by Armand, he had to admit it. What he always felt was ravening and hopeless desire."

"Everything would go all right for months as Daniel felt compelled to move from city to city, walking the pavements of New York or Chicago or New Orleans. Then the sudden disintegration. He’d realize he had not moved from his chair in five hours. Or he’d wake suddenly in a stale and unchanged bed, frightened, unable to remember the name of the city where he was, or where he’d been for days before. Then the car would come for him, then the plane would take him home."

"You came back to me because you wanted to, Daniel,” Armand always said calmly, face still and radiant, eyes full of love. “There is nothing for you now, Daniel, except me. You know that. Madness waits out there.”

"I’d rather die than see you die, Daniel.”

“Then give it to me! Damn you! Immortality that close, as close as your arms.”

“No, Daniel, because I’d rather die than do that, too.”

Armand on the pain of loving Daniel

"In time I conceived another love naturally, a love for a mortal boy Daniel, to whom Louis had poured out his story... I later made into a vampire for the same reasons that Marius had made me so long ago: the boy, who had been my faithful mortal companion, and only sometimes an intolerable nuisance, was about to die."

"Daniel himself had no use for the world, and had come to me hungering for our Dark Blood"

"Heaping every luxury upon him, I only sickened him with mortal sweets so that finally he turned away from the riches I offered, becoming a vagabond. Mad, roaming the streets in rags, he shut out the world almost to the point of death,"

"I, weak, muddled, tormented by his beauty, and lusting for the living man and not the vampire he might become, only brought him over to us through the working of the Dark Trick because he would have died otherwise."

"My love for Daniel had never been entirely honest, and always viciously possessive, and quite entangled with my own hatred of the world at large, and my confusion in the face of the baffling modern times"

"That is no mystery unto itself, the making of Daniel. Loneliness will always inevitably press us to such things."

"I was a firm believer that those we make ourselves will always despise us for it."

"There was never any innocence for us, there was never any springtime.There was never any chance, no matter how beautiful the twilight gardens in which we wandered. Our souls were out of tune, our desires crossed and our resentments too common and too well watered for the final flowering"

On Marius caring for Daniel while he was mentally unwell

“. . . I took Daniel with me because he needed me. I took Daniel because it’s unendurable to me to be utterly alone."

“Daniel is very good at putting together the houses. See how intricate they are? This is all that Daniel does now.”

"I’ve come here with Daniel alone. Daniel always needs someone to look after him. It suits me to be near Daniel. Daniel doesn’t have to speak. That he is here is sufficient.”

David on seeing Daniel sane again:

"Quickly, he locked in on his companion: the tall thin boyish young man with the violet eyes and the ashen hair whom Lestat had so aptly called “the Devil’s Minion.” It was Daniel who had interviewed the vampire who was Louis de Pointe du Lac, thereby giving birth unwittingly and innocently enough decades ago to the collection of books known as the Vampire Chronicles.

It was Daniel who’d captured the damaged heart of the Vampire Armand and been brought over by him into Darkness. It was Daniel who had languished for many a year—shocked, deranged, lost, unable to care for himself—in Marius’s care until only a couple of years ago when his sanity, ambition, and dreams had been restored to him."

On Marius loving Daniel

"Marius loved Daniel. He had salvaged Daniel from the aftermath of that storm, and never for one moment regretted it. Marius knew that Daniel had also salvaged him from the same chaos, becoming for Marius someone Marius could care for, someone Marius could personally love. It meant the world to Marius that he was not walking on this beach alone, that Daniel was walking at his side."

"Daniel was a disciplined hunter, master of the Little Drink in a crowd, and a slayer of the evildoer only. Marius was certain of that."

Louis on the reunion of Daniel & Armand

"Armand and Daniel Malloy were out hunting alone in the gentle warm rain."

"[Marius] he'd lost his longtime companion, Daniel Molloy, to Armand again, and these two remained at Court only because of the threat to the Prince, and hoped some night to be free to go to Trinity Gate in New York."

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We (Chuuya x Reader) (slight Dazai x Reader)

Pairing: Chuuya x Reader//Dazai x Reader

Description: Y/n left the Mafia, along with Chuuya, behind. She made her choice and it was most definitely her choice. There is no escaping the consequences.

Next Part: Coming Soon

Warnings: Angst, drinking your feelings, Port Mafia cannon stuff. You guys know the drill. I think that is it, please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 2,103

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Bungou Stray Dogs Master List

A/N AHHHHH! I am actually so excited to start posting some of my other work here. I wrote this little fic back in november (ish?? I think??) and it is what I have decided to start with in my reposting of wattpad stuff here because it is short and sad and under-appreciated on wattpad. Enjoy!

Chapter One: bug like an angel

Y/n sat alone at her favorite bar, turning her mostly empty glass of liquor slowly in her hand and watching the reflections of the dim lights in it. To anyone else, it would appear she was waiting for someone and maybe, somewhere behind those cold eyes, she was. After all, this is where they'd always come to be together, the three of them. Anniversaries were supposed to be a happy thing but in this moment, she couldn't feel anything but emptiness and loss.

"You dug your grave and now you must lie in it silly girl. Made promises you broke, so they broke you right back. Amateur. What else did you think was gonna happen?" she scoffed quietly beneath her breath before downing the rest of her drink.

With sudden assertion, she set the glass down on the bar and stood. Having already paid her tab, she gracefully put her coat on and, with a blasé wave of thanks thrown over her shoulder to the barkeep, took herself out into the cool night.

—— Did I make him a promise I couldn't keep? or am I going to be a man and do something about it?

Dazai looked around the room that had been his home for almost as long as he could remember. There were memories woven into the very fibers of the deep red carpet and the grains of the wood floor. This had been his childhood, his whole life, the only one he'd ever really known.

 Looking around, a myriad of minute details caught his eye. It was as if some part of him had already made the choice he was mulling over in his grief muddled mind and was trying to memorize it all, trying to take in every inch of it before he couldn't anymore. 

Look there, it said, that bottle of wine is empty because you shared it with Chuuya just last week. And there, that's the rose Y/n gave you randomly one day that you hung up on your wall till it dried. Somewhere in one of those drawers is a scalpel, in the back of that closet, there's a loose board that hides a scrap of Akutagawa's old coat you two found him in. There is a bit of your first coat there too, and Chuuya's from when you found him. And Y/n's she left here of course. Look here... see there... notice this... this plaguing infestation... this gap... this raw, bloodstained history you call a life.

He sighed again, turning his eyes away and running a hand through his already messy hair.

"I am so tired of this." he mumbled aloud, knowing no one was there to hear it.

Taking a step over to the dark wood dresser, he picked up a slip of paper worn with age. The pencil marks on it were blurred from the oil on his fingers, having read it again and again in the past year.

Thoughts continued to swirl around his head as he looked down at the blood soaking his frame.

"But what would I do with all this rage if I were to? Would it have a place to go?"

Dazai found his thoughts drifting to a time a few years ago. The three of them had snuck out into the night and found a bar, a little safe haven in all their madness. Y/n, mediator as she was, had smoothed out any disagreement, any anger spawned from snide remarks. Her exhileration at being out in the air that sharp January night had been all they needed. He had fed on that infectious joy of hers, a spot of light in the darkness that consumed them all and somehow, never went out. Not once in the six years Dazai had known her had he ever seen it even falter.

After dropping the drunken Chuuya safely back at his door, he had walked with her to her own room. They were less than sober themselves and Dazai couldn't help but laugh at his companion as she skipped down the hall, humming softly.

"What is it? Do I look weird?" Y/n asked, suddenly rather self conscious as she heard Dazai laugh behind her.

"Not at all." he smiled, catching up to where she had stopped in the hall, "Just a little unbecoming for the Port Mafia's youngest executive."

"Watch your tongue, dog." she joked, shoving his shoulder lightly, "I could have you drawn and quartered for a comment like that."

"Ooh, how medieval. I'm soooo scared." Dazai sarcastically responded, rolling his eyes as they started to walk once more.

"You better be, I am the notorious wielder of bacchic frenzy and hedonistic release after all." she teased right back.

"I'm too hedonistic as it." Dazai mused happily, "Your power would have no hold on me."

"That's just because no ability has power over yours which means it is cheating. I, Y/n the great, do declare my subordinate, Dazai Osamu, to be a cheater."

"Hey!" he pouted back for a brief moment before they both dissolved into giggles.

Before he knew it, they reached her door. It was an all too familiar thing to him, covered over with little notes and drawings he and Chuuya had left for her over the years that she had refused to take down for sentimentality's sake.

"Thank you for letting me convince you to do this." she said, turning to face him in the dark hallway.

Surprised, Dazai stood silent for a moment before taking a hand from his pocket and placing it on her head.

"Your hope shines in this dark place." was all he said in response.

"I've always known I was too full of feathers. My mother used to say it to me. She said it would kill me someday." Y/n mused softly, pushing the taller man's hand from her hair and holding it in her own, examining it as if it were some precious jewel.

"How do you do it?" he found himself asking, the alcohol coursing through his veins.

"It's just who I am. Plus, if you're just asking that in order to mimic me, remember: my mother was right. I'll be bent over from wishing and surrounded by false promises before long."

"You're too good for that."

"I am not good."

Y/n dropped Dazai's hand and looked up at last to meet his wide brown eyes. His frown only deepened with her gaze.

"I'm not good!" she insisted again, with a slight smile "I am full of all this rage. No one who is good should ever be as angry as I am. Besides, I know my place and I have learned to be content with it. I have learned to find the sun where it is shining."

"You're my sun." he said softly.

Y/n didn't respond but met his eyes once more and Dazai found them to be full of a grief he hadn't seen before. Maybe it had always been there and he had just never been close enough to notice.

"How do you do it?" he said gruffly, sticking his hands back in his pockets and looking away momentarily.

"Do what?"

"How do you deal with all the rage."

Y/n's eyes grew wide for a moment.

"The wrath of the devil was also given to him by god." she said after some thought.

"I never took you as the religious type." Dazai chuckled, lightening the mood slightly.

She smiled and shook her head.

"I'm not but this anger is a part of me whether I want it to be or not. I can sit and let it fester, or I can embrace it and learn to love it as it loves me."

"Aren't you afraid you'll be hated for it?"

His question came out as barley a whisper, a breath with substance.

"You and Chuuya have stuck around, haven't you?"

He turned the paper over in his hand. The backside was empty save for his name, written in that achingly familiar script that had plagued him since the first time he saw it. Dazai had never encountered another person who's handwriting suited them as perfectly as hers did. He shook his head slightly, placing the paper back down. His mind was made up. After all, she had left, she had made it out and, as far as he knew, lived to tell the tale. If she of all people could be redeemed, then why couldn't he?

——

Y/n woke up the next morning with a terrible hangover. Sluggishly, she pulled on her usual attire and dragged herself to work. Grabbing breakfast on the way, she somehow managed to make it to the office only an hour late and with her headache having subsided.

"Morning everyone, sorry I'm late." she managed through a yawn as she stepped inside, "I somehow managed to sleep through my alarm."

Her new life was no place for lies and secrets, Y/n knew that, but when your raised a certain way, things follow you. She couldn't help it and sometimes, her little lies even surprised her.

"Just don't do it tomorrow." said Kunikida, lightly hitting her on the head with his notebook.

"I won't, I won't." she hummed in response, draping her coat over the back of her chair.

As she went to sit down and start on the paperwork from her last mission, Kunikida spoke once more.

"The boss wants to see you in his office." 

"What for?" Y/n asked, looking up at him with surprise evident in her eyes. 

Kunikida shrugged. 

"He's speaking to a potential new hire, apparently he wants your opinion on the matter."

"Mine?"

"Seems like a waste of time. The man has an irresponsible, lazy air to him." Kunikida continued as if he hadn't heard her question. 

"I guess I'll go see what he needs."

Y/n knocked gently on the boss' door and did not move to enter until she heard the command from inside.

"You ask to see me sir?" She said with a respectful bow once the door was shut. 

"Yes, sit down."

Y/n nodded and moved to take the empty seat in front of his desk before noticing a strangely familiar person sitting beside it. Her eyes grew wide with disbelief for a moment before she quickly fixed her expression into a small, pleasant smile.

"What is it I can help with."

She could feel his eyes on her as she look straight ahead at the boss who took a sip of his tea.

"Y/n, this is Dazai Osamu but I'm sure you know that already."

"Yes, of course." she nodded, still absolutely avoiding the man beside her.

"He wants to work here."

"And why should you?" she asked, suddenly fixing her strangely cold attention on Dazai. 

"My, haven't you changed." he smiled back at her. 

"Your coat is different."

"And your feathers appear to have gone."

Y/n was silent for a moment. 

"Not gone, just quieted. This is my hiding place, why are you here?"

"I thought you might know one another, it appears however that you two even have a history." the boss chuckled warmly, bringing the attention in the room back on him, "Tell me Y/n, this man claims to have been a Port Mafia executive. He says he wants to leave it behind, to 'be on the side that saves people.' Can you confirm his story? Back up his intentions?"

"You never asked anyone to back up my story or my intentions, why bother with this one?"

"You were sincere." the boss answered cooly, "This one appears to have something to hide."

Y/n rolled his words over in her mind for a moment, sparing Dazai a fleeting glance before she answered. 

"Dazai and I grew up together. He was my subordinate and must have been promoted to take my position when I left. I do not believe there is any reason to not trust his intent in this situation. In fact, I had a feeling something would happen and he'd follow me someday."

"Thank you Y/n, that is all. You may return to your work."

"Yes sir."

Y/n stood and bowed once more. As she turned to leave however, Dazai grabbed her wrist lightly. She looked down at his still seated form, her eyebrows raised.

"How's that wrath of yours?" he asked with a seemingly harmless smile. 

Y/n took a deep breath before moving her hand carefully from his grasp. 

"How's your hedonism treating you lately?" she threw back and the door clicked shut softly behind her.

[pradaxstyles]

“Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?” 

This would totally work for Ellie, after Santa Barbara, cause I think she'd be a complete and total emotional mess and wouldn't know how to handle her feelings..

Collateral

Pairing -> Ellie Williams x Fem Reader

Warnings -> Some game dialogue (second game, Tommy made me so mad when he came to Ellie with this. like let the girl live in peace please), brief mention of Ellie's missing fingers, swearing, end is a little rushed, not proofread, fluff at the end bc I said so <3

Word count -> 1.3k

Playlist -> Unbroken, Gustavo Santaolalla

Alexa's notes✨ -> Caroline!!!!! Thank you so so much for requesting something! It means the world to me. I really hope you enjoy this and that I did it justice! As always, please come chat or leave some feedback! love yall xoxo

Your relationship with Ellie wasn't something that was clear cut. It didn't have clear lines, it wasn't black and white. It was more of an array of muddled colors that somehow worked together seamlessly. You knew how she felt about you, and you her, so there wasn't a question as to whether you would go with her to Seattle in search of Abby and her friends.

When that was all said and done you both agreed on starting a life together outside of Jackson. The farmhouse had been one your favorite places you've lived in, partly because Ellie was right by your side.

That was until Ellie left for Santa Barbara.

The day Tommy came by, you could see the wheels turning in Ellie's mind. You had done so much to get where you were, and he was threatening that stability. You knew Ellie struggled with what happened to Joel. You knew it. Ellie tried so hard to hide everything from you, even now.

You'd been by her with everything that happened in Seattle, putting your life at risk every damn day because you loved Ellie. You've had the front row seat to everything that is Ellie Williams, and here she was, debating Tommy's words.

"This new guy heard my story," Tommy began. "He told me about a woman that he traded with while he was moving through California." He unfolded the map and laid it down on the table, smoothing out the creases. "Described her as built like an ox, traveling with a kid with scars across his face."

Ellie was hanging on to his every word.

You stood off to the side trying not to eavesdrop, but how could you not? Ellie sat up straighter, leaning in slightly to take a glance at the map in front of her.

"He said they were livin' across this coast, in a beached sail boat," Tommy reached over and pointed a single finger on the dusty map, "Right here."

You could tell Ellie felt torn, her eyebrows knitted together as she glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on you for a split second, and you could see the internal struggle that raged within the girl.

Moving to place yourself next to Ellie, "That's enough," you articulated, "We're done with that and you know it."

Ellie reached to place her hand on the small of your back. Shaking her head, she whispered a small, "I'm sorry."

The scratch of the chair against the wood filled the brief silence, followed by Tommy's scoff. "Reckon it's easy to forget about her. Sitting all comfy way out here-"

You took a protective step in front of Ellie, "Tommy-"

"'I'll make her pay.' That's what you said when we got back to Jackson."

Placing a strong hand against his chest, you gave him a shove. The look in your eyes lethal, "That is enough!" you exclaimed. "Get the hell out of my house and don't come back with that shit, ever again. Do you hear me?"

Tommy scoffed again, "What a joke." He shuffled toward the door while mumbling things under his breath.

You placed a gentle hand on Ellie's cheek and ran your thumb across her lips before stomping after Tommy. The screen door smacked into the side of the house with the force of you pushing it.

"You're a real jackass, you know that? How dare yo-"

"How dare I? She made me a promise! Don't you think that should mean something?"

A sarcastic laugh fell from your lips, "Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not realize what she's been through?" barely taking a breath, "What we have been through? We almost died in Seattle and I'll be damned if you pressure Ellie into going back out there for some stupid lead."

Soft pants came from your parted mouth. You were absolutely seething at Tommy's audacity. Why couldn't he just drop it? So many lives were lost in the search for Abby. It wasn't his life he was putting at risk, it was Ellie's. He'd have to shoot you dead before you allowed that.

Tommy gave you a sharp look before turning his back and leading his horse to the front gate.

You watched him ride off as you caught your breath.

Pulling the screen door shut behind you, you turned to find Ellie still seated at the table.

"Els, I'm so sorry he did that. He had absolutely no right to show up here and treat you like that."

Ellie warily glanced up at you, a bleak look painted her features. A sigh escaped her lips as she grabbed your hand and led you to the seat across from her.

"Babe, I think-"

"Please tell me you're not actually considering this. Please."

Ellie snapped her gaze down to the map and back up to you. "I can't live like this anymore, knowing she's still out there. I don't eat, I don't sleep."

You blinked the tears away that were threatening to slip. "Ellie.." Your voice broke slightly as you rose to stand. "You need to know that I've grown to care for you, deeply. But if you walk out of this house, I don't know if I'll be here waiting for you to come back."

Ellie rose and stood to face you, inches between you both. A pained expression covered her face, "That's up to you."

With that, she took her backpack and walked out the door, leaving you in the beloved farmhouse alone.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆

It had been three months, and there was still no sign of Ellie. You waited every day for her to walk through that door and into your arms. The old calendar in the kitchen had been marked up, serving as a tracker for the days that molded into one.

It was easy to grow weary, to sit in silence most days and reminisce on the months prior. The ache was a deep, constant feeling in your body.

There was one day, the sun's embrace warm as you sat on the porch swing that you saw it.

Ellie's slim figure making its way up to the front gate, backpack in hand.

Your eyes fell into a sharp squint thinking your mind had been playing tricks on you.

The gate clanked open, and you knew she was home.

Standing up, you scampered towards the girl.

"Ellie?! Is that you?"

Ellie's own footsteps broke into a run after hearing your sweet voice. God, she missed that voice so much.

You slammed your body into her strong frame, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. "Ellie," you melted, "I'm so happy you're back home."

She picked you up off the ground slightly, inhaling the scent of your freshly washed hair. "I missed you so much, baby. You have no idea."

Placing you back on your feet, her cool hands met your cheeks and you leaned into her touch, relishing the feel of her skin against yours.

Opening one eye at the unfamiliar sensation, "Uh, Els? What the hell happened to your fingers?" You all but ripped her hand off your cheek and brought it up to your face to inspect.

A deep chuckle fell from her lips and she smiled at you, "I'll explain everything, I promise. Let's go inside before you get cold."

Slinging her backpack across her shoulders, she intertwined your fingers in her good hand and led you back to the house. It felt right being back home with you. Ellie realized a lot of things while she was gone and was finally able to process some of those feelings. Not that she wouldn't tell you eventually, but Ellie loved you from the moment she first laid eyes on you all those years ago in Jackson. It took her a while to decipher those feelings, but she's never been so sure of something as she is this.

Glancing down at you, she gave your hand a slight squeeze, "I love you, sweet girl. More than you'll ever know."

[imthepunchlord]

Honestly, I wouldn’t bother with the Prodigious (Zodiac Miraculous) for the Bugettes AU specifically? The name itself strongly suggests that the bug-themed fairies are THE magical beings of this world off the bat. Beyond that, you’ve already got a solid, stable magical system running here with just the European-inspired seven Miraculous and three Calamitous; considering that system, the color choices and the design symbols, not to mention the not-fully-finalized stuff like powers, weapons and holders, trying to have 12 more unique additions in any of those groups sounds like, if not a massive headache waiting to happen (you of course know your own threshold better than me), extremely tedious/redundant for what you already have going on at the very least, which is one of the problems that canon itself already has. I’ve seen it mentioned on here and other blogs as the show’s continued on that the writers should’ve either had just the yin-yang and Wuxing levels of the Miracle Box in canon or just the Zodiac level, and I agree wholeheartedly. Not nearly every teenager shown on-screen needs to have a Miraculous to “validate” their or the Miraculouses’ existence in the ML world, they just don’t, and canon also ran into the problem I brought up of repetitive and often overpowered versions of previously established yin-yang/Wuxing powers once they FINALLY got around to showing all of the Zodiac Miraculous in action. They never even FINISHED showing what all of the potions do!!! And that’s not even getting into the canon!Prodigious or Native American Miracle Box! And the worst part is that they logistically and pragmatically executed each and every one of these magical systems in-universe ABYSMALLY! All this to say that I’m very similar to that one anon who brought up why they’d vehemently rather see a full-on, no-subversions girl group for this AU in that, while I don’t doubt that you specifically would be able to pull off the writing, canon has soured the idea of having more moving magical system parts than what the main story is focusing on that I can’t even enjoy seeing it in AUs anymore - that I have to literally push through reading it in writing or comics that I really like otherwise just to understand what’s happening in the rest of it that I genuinely enjoy and am there for. My distaste goes ESPECIALLY hard when the established magical systems are inspired by different cultures like European and Chinese as is the (STRONGLY muddled together) case in canon and would be the case for this AU if you included your version of the Prodigious. I would actually love to see how you would write a story where only the Zodiac Miraculous exist as the Chinese Miracle Box too!! Just not existing separately in the same world as the European Miraculous and Calamitous in the Bugettes AU, if that makes sense.

It does, and I feel you!

I fully agree that canon has poured out way more than they know what to work with. And a lot of it you raise a brow at in how it's handled, or wonder why was this included. Or they included stuff at weird times.

Like, s2, we got the confirmation of potions AND Zodiac Miraculous.

Did we really need both confirmed?

And then, before we get to see all of both, they do two Specials revealing NA Miraculous and the canon Prodigious; both of which are up in the air of how covered they'll actually get; and yeah, they just pour out way too much.

Most shows, when introducing a new concept in the new season, that usually takes the focus of the new season. So they did it really weird.

If it helps, the Prodigious are more a concept thought for plausible worldbuilding, as I do like the idea that different countries could potentially have their own magical thing going on, what the potential relations can be, and have it as an open door if I want to try and shuffle up the dynamics of different magic and do something else for any potential villain ideas.

But that doesn't mean the Prodigious will actually ever appear or even be mentioned. It's actually way to early to say yes or no to them even appearing, as I haven't even started on any planning for the idea. Only thing I can say for sure is that the Bugettes will be the primary focus, and the Calamitous will be the main villainous force. At this time, I'd say, IF the Prodigious do appear, they're more likely to be saved as the next big arc after the Calamitous. But I don't even know if I would want to continue to the next big arc.

So, really, they're just present for potential worldbuilding, and are an open door for the future if I want to go through it. They for sure won't be the focus. I really can't say if they'll even get mentioned in Bugettes au.

[dreamlandreader]

Foolish Fire

Chapter One: Little Lights

Merry Christmas! I’m here to deliver one freshly baked fic for the incredibly lovely and wonderfully talented @popjunkie42-blog for the @acotargiftexchange 🫱🏻🎁 Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa! ♥️ I’ve loved chatting with you over the past couple of months! I hope you love this fic as much as I’ve loved every minute of writing it.

Click HERE if you would prefer to read on AO3 Content warnings - Suggestive conversations, bad language and public displays of fae affection 🔥

Word Count - 3201 Words

“Absolutely not, Feyre. No way. Not a chance!” Rhysand insisted for the third time in less than an hour. He may love his mate to the end of his existence and beyond, but his patience was becoming increasingly limited.

It didn’t help Feyre’s case that she was attempting to have this rather alarming conversation whilst Rhys was turning his office upside down, trying to locate an important document that had escaped his attention.

“Why not?” Feyre begged, bouncing her son energetically on her hip and following Rhys across the room as he frantically searched through his neatly arranged files, papers flying everywhere.

“I am not spending a weekend in the woods with half our inner circle, a toddler, and Lucien freaking Vanserra!” Rhys huffed.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not half the inner circle; it’s my sisters and their mates - one of whom happens to be your brother!” Feyre stated plainly, rolling her eyes at her mate’s usual dramatics. “Secondly, I thought you and Lucien were okay now?”

“Well, yes, okay to share dinner and a drink with, not to huddle around a campfire, darling”, he groaned.

“Daddy’s grumpy,” Nyx said to Feyre, hiding a giggle behind his tiny hands. Rhys stuck his tongue out to his son, of course, he would take his mother’s side. The cheeky baby just blew a raspberry back in response.

“I really think this could be good for us, Rhys,” Feyre tried again, ignoring her two boys’ antics and glancing over at her mate’s desk. “I love our lives, and the responsibility we have for this court, but even the High Lord and Lady need a break from time to time. We’ve barely seen each other the past few weeks,”

Feeling the twinges of guilt starting to gnaw at his gut, Rhys looked from his son to his wife just in time to see her pull the exact paper he needed from his desk with knowing eyes. He supposed he had been overdoing it a little the last month or so. Sighing, he reached for the paper with one hand and hooked an arm around Feyre’s waist with the other. 

“I know things have been busy at the moment, but once this treaty is drafted and we’ve managed to convince everyone to sign it, then I’m all yours again, darling,” 

“You need a break, Rhys,” Feyre sighed. 

“When I do eventually go back to it, I’m able to see exactly what I need to do to make it work better,” Feyre said gently, looking at Rhys with such care and warmth in her eyes. “Clearly, all this extra work has your head muddled if you couldn’t find a paper right there on your desk. Give yourself a break, and come back with fresh eyes. The treaty will be all the better for it.”

“And what about Nyx? We can’t take him off into the woods. He’s too young,” Rhys replied, stroking his son’s cheek as he looked at his father with such innocent and loving eyes.

“Mor said she will happily babysit for a couple of days,”

“Aunty Mor! Aunty Mor!” Nyx squealed, clapping his pudgy hands together in excitement.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you, baby? A whole weekend with Aunty Morrigan,” Feyre said to her son, tickling his round tummy.

Rhysand walked over to his plush velvet couch and flopped down theatrically.

“But why can’t we just throw him an obnoxiously large party like a normal Fae male. Why does it have to be in a forest?”

“Because Elain wanted to plan something special for the first birthday he’ll celebrate as part of a mated couple. She knows he loves the outdoors and thought it would be a great opportunity for us all to go on a family trip. Please, Rhys! Do it for me!”

“Oh, for caldron’s sake! Fine. But I’m not sharing a tent with Cass, no matter how much he begs!” Rhys insisted, giving his mate the most adorable of pouts.

Two weeks later, with a backpack full of supplies and her mate in tow, Feyre sludged through the thick mud and jumped over the tree roots which lay intertwined on the forest floor. Rhysand followed behind her, much less enthusiastically clambering through the woods, a solemn look upon his face, as his wife continued to drag him by the hand, and they fell behind the rest of their group.

Lucien and Elain were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, leading the group with an impressive energy that Rhys believed could only be explained by their newly formed bond. No one could possibly be that excited to trudge through the woods, he thought. Bouncing along the woodland route, Lucien had not stopped talking for the five hours they’d been walking. Elain was practically skipping alongside him, giving him her most rapt attention.

In typical fashion, Cassian and Nesta, who lingered in the middle of the pack, had spent the day jumping between arguing uncontrollably and restraining themselves from ripping each other’s clothes off. Rhys swore to himself on hour three that if he caught one more scent of their arousal upon the wind, he would winnow himself and Feyre right back home, damn the consequences.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Rhysand’s poor mood was punctuated by the slow and steady drip drip drip of rain. “I knew this was a terrible idea,” Rhys mumbled, slicking his damp hair out of his eyes.

“Rhysand!” Feyre exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks with a venomous look in her eyes and raindrops dripping off the end of her nose. “You survived the blood rite, have fought in some of the deadliest battles in Prythian’s history, and have literally been brought back from death, yet a bit of rain is sending you over the edge?”

Rhysand looked at his muddy feet, raindrops dripping from his eyelashes in shame. He may be hating every moment of this trip, but he could not stand the thought of letting his wife down.

“I didn’t have a choice with those things. I did them to survive. This is supposed to be … fun,” he grimaced, shivering on the spot. “Why can’t we just winnow to a camping spot?”

“You know why. Lucien and Elain have asked we do everything authentically. No magic.”

“Urgh,” he groaned like a petulant child.

“Rhys, I love you so much, but I need you to stop whining! You’re driving me mad,” Feyre begged, feeling dangerously close to the end of her tether.

“Hey, I think this would be a good place to stop and set up camp,” Lucien shouted, interrupting Feyre’s tense glare. Replacing her frown with a smile, she once again grabbed Rhysand’s hand and dragged him along.

It took Rhys and Feyre roughly forty minutes to pitch their tent. Twice as long as Cassian and Nesta, who, after high-fiving and giving one another a delighted grin, sat back and critiqued everyone else’s technique.

The copse of trees under which they set up camp didn’t do much to shield them from the rain that was teaming down in buckets. Still, once the storm began to subside and a fire was built, they could at least start warming themselves.

Rhysand had decided for his mate, and his mate alone, he would try to seem more enthusiastic. So when Lucien suggested he could teach the other two males how to catch fish from a nearby river with their bare hands, Rhys was the first to roll up his sleeves and jump in the freezing water.

Feyre and her sisters, who chose to watch in amusement from the edge of the water, did not even attempt to stifle their laughter. After all, you rarely get front-row seats to watch the High Lord of the Night Court and his general splash around aggressively in water to bolster their male pride.

Lucien was successful in his endeavour and caught a good amount of sizeable fish, which would easily fill the bellies of the entire group. Cassian and Rhys, however, were slightly less successful. Cassian had managed to catch a fish, but it was barely as big as his thumb. Rhys, on the other hand, had caught everything but a fish. An old boot, several empty bottles of fae wine and numerous twigs now lined the bank of the river and stared mockingly at Rhysand, who was beginning to doubt his own skills.

Feyre was right. He had survived much worse conditions than this, he’d even been through much more severe forms of camping than this. During the blood rite, he had been separated from his brothers and had to fight his way back to them, all whilst trying to keep himself alive in the process. He hadn’t thought twice about it back then. He was getting too comfortable with his life in Velaris. Getting used to the calm of a post-war Prythian. Yes, he and his mate had piles of work to keep them busy, treaties to sign, and alliances to make, but all in all, they were in an excellent position, a period of great contentment. That thought made Rhysand’s stomach squeeze. He should not, could not, let himself get complacent.

From then on, Rhysand decided to utilise this trip as an opportunity to re-engage with his survival instincts. Perhaps he could even learn a trick or two from his Autumn Court companion. He would never admit it to Lucien, but some sly observation of his obvious skills would harm no one. And, if his active participation in the group kept his mate happy, then Rhys was even more convinced to oblige.

With his newfound vigour, Rhysand pulled Feyre into his lap whilst dinner was roasted over the campfire. Her suspicions about her mate's sudden change of heart soon disappeared as the fae wine that Elain had snuck into her travel sack began to flow, and laughter echoed around the campsite.

A few hours later, giddy from the wine and encouraged by the slowly setting sun, Rhysand dipped his head into the crook of his mate's neck and began to plant gentle kisses against her soft skin. Within seconds, Feyre turned in his lap, eyes alight with craving, and her lips pressed against his own. His hands slid down her spine and cupped her backside as he let out a low groan.

Just as Rhys slipped his tongue between Feyre's parted lips, the lovers were jerked harshly back into reality by an unamused Nesta.

“For the love of the mother, please stop before I puke up the remains of dinner,” Nesta drawled, giving her sister a pointed look.

“Oh come on, Nesta, as though you and Cass haven’t been giving each other sex eyes all night,” Feyre laughed, as Cassian shrugged in agreement, and Nesta elbowed him in the side.

“At least we are holding back until we get to the tent,” Nesta retorted, raising one eyebrow in a blatant challenge.

Although the sisters were debating who the horniest couple was, there was none of the bitterness that used to linger between them. Since Nyx’s birth, Feyre and Nesta had worked on repairing the fractured parts of their relationship, and though things had been tentative for a while, this sisterly teasing was a clear step in the right direction.

Rhysand’s heart swelled for his mate. He knew just how much this newly developing relationship meant to her, and from the warm smile radiating from his brother, he could tell it meant a lot to Nesta, too.

“All that steamy smut you read and your sister sharing one kiss with her mate is sending you over the edge?” Feyre retorted, a quizzical grin brightening her beautiful face.

“That smut doesn’t require me to watch my sister getting her ass squeezed!” Nesta huffed, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“Pfft, as if Elain and I aren’t painfully aware that you and Cassian have fucked on every available surface in the House of Wind,”

An awkward cough interrupted the quick retort that was teetering on the edge of Nesta’s lips, and all eyes swung to Cassian, who was rubbing the back of his neck in evident discomfort.

“I hate to break it to you ladies,” Cassian said, low and quiet, as though he was revealing his most precious of secrets. “But I don’t think either of you is the Archeron sister that needs worrying about!”

Nesta and Feyre, along with their mates, all readjusted their gazes towards Elain, who was sat in her mate’s lap, sharing kisses and sensually moving her fully clothed hips against his. She was blissfully ignorant to her sister’s shock as Lucien’s hands slid up both sides of her dress, and she threw back her head in pleasure, allowing him to kiss down her exposed neck towards her chest.

“Oh gods, that’s enough socialising for today. I’m going to bed!” Nesta cried, almost tripping over herself in an effort to unsee what was now burned deeply into her mind.

“Yeah, good plan. Great plan!” Feyre squeaked, cheeks getting hotter by the second, as her desire to winnow away as far as possible grew exponentially.

Rhysand had to laugh as his mate clumsily hurried away towards the tent. What did she expect going away with a freshly mated couple? Even if the initial frenzy had eased off, the first year of a new bond was filled with passion and numerous instances where all rational thought went out of the window. Even now, three years after his own mating bond was cemented, Feyre and Rhys often struggled to resist each other.

Catching up to Feyre, Rhys wrapped his arms around his mate's middle and tucked his head into her neck, nipping at her earlobe.

“I didn’t know you were so easy to make blush, my love,” Rhys chuckled in her ear.

“I didn’t expect to see my sister dry-humping her mate tonight, that’s all,” Feyre replied, laughing too.

"Let's go for a walk, Darling," Rhys purred.

Feyre turned in his arms, a sly grin on her face as she clasped Rhysand's hand in her own, and together, they wandered deeper into the woods, away from the prying ears of their fae brethren.

Breathless from excitement, Rhys twirled his mate towards him, picked her up and pushed her against a nearby tree. As their lips met, teeth clashing in their eagerness, Feyre scraped her nails against Rhysand’s scalp in the way she knew always made the male shiver with anticipation.

Rhys nipped and sucked at Feyre’s lower lip, sliding his hands under her thick jumper and lazily working them up her body. Tracing the bottom of her lacy bra around to the back, Rhys was moments away from undoing the clasp when a sharp sound perforated the heated silence of the woods.

The snap of the twig had the lovers on instant high alert. Rhys tried to reassure himself that perhaps it was just one of the other couples from their party, who, like Feyre and himself, felt like a midnight tryst under the stars. But then, in the distance, a soft flickering light melted through the frigid black of night.

“What is that?” Feyre faltered, peering around her mate’s shoulder to better see the potential danger ahead.

"I don't know, but it's coming this way. Perhaps it's time to leave." Rhys replied, gripping Feyre's waist more firmly but lowering her to the ground to give her the chance to run if needed.

As the light drew ever closer, it became apparent that the source of light did not come from the lamp of another weary traveller or even as the result of a predator out in the dead of night ready to catch some unsuspecting prey. Instead, it appeared that the glow was produced by a small, illuminated, floating creature.

"Fireflies?" Feyre asked, squinting into the distance. The couple's fae hearing picked up the sound of tiny wings fluttering against the brisk autumn air as the light danced closer.

"No, they look like-"

"Butterflies!" Feyre gasped as dozens of dazzling butterflies swirled around them like autumn leaves on the breeze, leaving a gleaming trail in the path behind them.

Feyre reached out a hand and let out a small laugh as one of the creatures landed on her index finger, its magic bouncing off her own, sending a warm tingle throughout her body.

Then, as quickly as the golden butterflies appeared, they began to drift off and were, one by one, swallowed by the shadows. Only the gentle butterfly on Feyre's hand remained, casting a glow that lit her face with wonder.

Slowly taking flight, the beautiful creature seemed to beckon Feyre to follow it deeper into the woods. Feyre felt in her very soul that it was of the utmost importance that she went with it, and she shared this thought with her mate. Rhysand, however, was uncertain. He scoured his memory for any recollection of a creature quite like this, with luminous wings and a beckoning pull, but he came up short. The only tale he could remember was of the Will-o'-the-wisp, tricky little beasts who masqueraded as distant lamp lights, only to deceive weary travellers into getting lost, often leading them into mortal danger, delivering them to foul monsters who would gladly tear them apart. But, in all the stories he had heard of these characters, they had never taken the form of such placid creatures.

"Come on," Feyre beamed, striding forward, sparkling eyes wide.

"Feyre no!" Rhys replied, reaching a hand out towards her, but he merely blinked, and his mate had disappeared into the inky night.

✨ Click here to head to the series master list ✨

[thekristen999]

Writing Patterns

I was tagged by @exhuastedpigeon Thank you!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I set-up the tone of the story right at the get-go, at least, I think I do. I'm not best at analyzing my own words :)

..

All Buddie.

A Light in the Darkness  (one-shot, just vibes, post-apocalyptic)

His coordination is off; fat-feeling fingers fumbling with his turn-out coat, the snaps refusing to work. Exhausted, Eddie gives up wrestling with the damn things, yanking at the bottom until all the snaps come undone like the rest of him.

Follow You Into The Dark (one-shot, hurt/comfort, suspense,)

The moment the alarm blared, all the hair along the back of Eddie’s neck stood on end. He didn’t need to check his watch. It was after midnight, maybe one or two in the morning. It was always around the same time. He’d bet a month’s paycheck this would be a three-alarm fire at an abandoned building under suspicious circumstances.

Cutting The Ties That Bind (multi-chapter, mafia AU,)

It’d been three days since the brakes on his car had gone out. There was an active factory recall regarding the master cylinder on the same make and model Buck owned, but his uncle didn’t believe in coincidences. So, Buck suffered the indignity of being chauffeured in the back of a giant SUV like a teenager.

We All Fall Down (one-shot, missing scenes, post 6.18)

Sounds filtered through his muddled brain. Radio static. Heavy breathing. Metal creaking—no groaning. Or was that him? Was he groaning? Why was he—

Tick...Tick...Boom (one-shot, hurt/comfort)

It was a good day when all their calls ended in success. An automobile accident and an incident involving a large sinkhole resolved with only minor injuries. If they took 10th street back to the firehouse, then his and Eddie’s shift would end, and they could find some alone time.

We’ve Got Fun & Games (one-shot, humor, Amazing Race)

Giddiness ran through Buck’s veins. He stretched his arms, his hamstrings, even his calves.

Eddie, on the other hand, leaned against a tree wearing a lazy smile like he was waiting on a weather report.

Not Today  (one-shot, backstory)

The first time Eddie encountered death was at his Tía Lula’s bedside. He held her limp hand, whispering thanks for all the times they baked cookies together, for the days spent outside in her lazy hammock, or playing with her cats.

bro·ken (multi-chapter, S3 AU, diff first meeting)

The last place in the world Buck wanted to be was in one of the worst neighborhoods in the middle of the warehouse district. But his rent was due in a couple of weeks and his savings account was already depleted. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

The Shape Of Water (one-shot, backstory, hurt/comfort)

Pennsylvania was made up of trees and mountains. Every day was just another shade of gray.

We're In This Together Now (one-shot, hurt/comfort)

Eddie stared out through the window of the fire truck counting the number of billboards rushing past. Occasionally, he risked a glance in Buck’s direction, confirming that Buck was also staring out a window. Both trying to ignore the other.

no pressure tagging: @shortsighted-owl @shyaudacity @ci5mates @fleurdebeton @mellaithwen @andavs @renecdote @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @the-likesofus @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus @sherlockcrossing @diazsdimples @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life

[messyyythoughts]

the funny little things.

criminal minds Dr. Spencer Reid x female BAU reader

author’s note: oh dear... a new obsession, i fear! in all seriousness: this series single-handedly got me through the end of 2022, so what better to do than write something for it?! summary: your relationship with Dr Reid of the BAU is a good one, so good that there’s these little funny things that you both do with one another... warnings: working on murder cases (reader is part of BAU)/trauma from working on cases --> so read at your own discretion! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

when you first joined the BAU, you were nervous but who wouldn’t be?

you’d put your heart, blood, sweat and tears into passing those profiling classes and you’d passed with flying colours! your parents were very happy for you, knowing it had been a lifelong dream of yours

on your first day you didn’t have a desk set up, and you were mortified that the BAU had forgotten about you on your first day

you almost turned around and walked back out of that office, until you bumped into Spencer Reid, that absolute charmer.

“oh, sorry,” Reid smiled apologetically, “hey, is your name–” you both said your name at the same time. Reid’s face broke out into a smile, and he held out his hand. “I saw your reports, impressive work for someone so young.” he had his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “not that you’re too young for the job or anything.” he added hastily. “oh thank you, uh, I’m just doing my best really.” you were trying to not stumble over yourself as you spoke, recognising Dr Reid as he stood in front of you. he asked where your desk was, secretly hoping he’d be able to talk some more with you, until you admitted there wasn’t a desk ready for you. a flush of embarrassment crept up your face, and Reid pressed his lips together in thought. he motioned for you to follow him to his desk, which he pulled a spare chair to and presented it to you proudly. “we can, uh, share,” he said, “until they find you one.” you smiled shyly, placing your bag on your lap as you took one chair and he took the other. he really liked your energy, so quiet, but he knew once you realised you could do the job he’d see the other side of you. when JJ called the team to the briefing room for a meeting, you found that your legs were cemented to the seat. this was it, your first case, what you’d been waiting for your entire life. Reid was up and gone, and you followed after a second of muddled thinking. inside the room was a team of faces you hadn’t met yet, but you knew all about them. Reid had a spare chair by his side, and after realising JJ was waiting for you to sit, you hurried over. as you sat down, JJ started bringing up the pictures of the victims and crime scenes, reading out the background information. you finally felt like you were getting somewhere.

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you were exhausted to say the least when you returned to the jet for the journey home. you’d followed Reid like a lost puppy on this case, but the others had been kind to you. Emily asked how you were doing each time she saw you, always privately checking in. JJ would text you for updates, giving you a smile whenever you crossed paths. Rossi made you feel like you were being included by asking for your thoughts, coming to you for second opinions. Morgan never left you behind anywhere, always on guard as you two went around together. Hotch carefully watched your body language and facial expressions throughout the case, jumping in when he thought you were beginning to fall behind. and Miss Penelope was always gushing at how polite you were when calling her for help, and promised to see you as soon as you returned. you obviously felt very welcomed, and even as quiet fell across the jet, it was comfortable. you text your parents that you were done with your first case, and closed your eyes to doze. 

you didn’t even realise that you had leaned a bit too far across and had your head on Reid’s shoulder

he shuffled down a bit so your head rested easily, before taking out a book of his and picking up where he left off

the others soon noticed and couldn’t help but smile, because for once Reid looked content in the company of another person

after that, it was an unspoken rule that no matter where you sat on the jet, Reid was next to you. you almost always slept, unless a case had been particularly harrowing and it kept you awake thinking, and each time your head would fall onto Reid’s waiting shoulder. it was also another unspoken rule that when the jet lands, no one wakes you up, except Reid.

he’s the only person you’ll be happy to let you wake you up on the jet

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the drive home is always longer than the drive to work, you find, but this changed when Reid offered to help save the environment by carpooling!

when in Virginia, Reid likes carpooling with you to work, and dropping you off home at the end of the day

he’ll take you anywhere really if you ask him too :)

after a case, he has to see you walk in and lock the door behind you before driving away to his place

it gives him peace of mind that you’re safe without him there, not that he could attempt to physically fight a random intruder away, but he could certainly talk them into confusion!

to pass the time between being at home and going to work, where you’d see Reid again, you picked up the habit of reading.

when you bring a book with you anywhere, Reid makes a point of taking interest in it, then looking into it after you’ve finished it just so he can talk to you about it over the following weeks

even with the oddest of books, he’ll put himself through reading just so he knows what you’re talking about the next time he sees you

he would never have read The Hunger Games trilogy without your influence.

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it goes without saying that the BAU job is not an easy one. you’ve seen more mangled bodies than a graveyard, and walked through such gruesome crime scenes you were sure they weren’t real. the persistent nightmares started not long after your first few cases, and you told no one. not your parents, not even Reid, who you were sure had experienced nightmares too. there was one night in particular where you had been tossing and turning, then stretching and walking around your bedroom to try and tire yourself out. nothing stopped you from seeing the images of women that had been torn apart, discarded like they were nothing every time you closed your eyes. and then your morning alarm went off.

Reid noticed that you were off as you got into the car, no “good morning sunshine” or “hey handsome” as you normally said when buckling up

“you’re quiet, no sleep last night?” Reid asked, pulling away from your place and side-eyeing you

“yeah, sadly, it’s just one bad night though.” you half-smiled at him, trying to sleep in the car on the way to work

when you got there, Reid had coffee ready to go at all hours of the day, sometimes preempting your needs and placing a full mug on your desk before you could get up

at the end of the day where you’d only filled out paperwork, Reid saw that you were struggling, and had an idea

“so, I was thinking, there’s actually this new way to fall asleep by tricking your brain. we could try it tonight so you catch up on your sleep.” Reid said casually, as you finished more coffee. “I’ll do anything right now to get a decent night’s sleep.” you sighed, getting up to wash your mug before finishing up the paperwork for the night. Reid smiled as you walked off, the perfect plan in his head. once you were both done, Reid drove to your place, and joined you inside. “now what?” you asked, eyes heavy but brain still ticking over. “the fun part. you get changed, I’ll do the rest.” Reid started messing with your TV, and you just followed his instructions. you showered, changed clothes and met him back downstairs. he had the TV ready and the sofa made up. “I’ll stay for a bit to see if it works,” he then added, “if you don’t mind?” you waved a hand at him, you didn’t care if he slept on your bed, and he settled down next to you on the sofa.

an old Hollywood movie starts to play, black and white, and you glance at Reid in suspicion

he tells you to just relax and watch it, and about halfway through you’re falling asleep to the sound of the famous Transatlantic accent, exaggerated sound effects and old time music

Reid is overjoyed that his idea worked, because this is what he does sometimes to bore his brain to sleep on those difficult nights

he finds himself falling asleep too, but gets up and turns out the lights and closes the curtains before locking your front door

and settling back down on the sofa next to your sleeping form

he tells himself he’ll run home in the morning and change before work

the next morning, you both wake up, late. with less than an hour to get to work, Reid sped home to shower, change and eat before picking you back up. despite being in fresh clothes, with hastily applied makeup on and carrying breakfast in your hands, you both looked awful. you were much brighter this morning though, as you laughed getting into the car. you arrived at work just in time, huffing and sorting out hair and clothes at your desk. Reid’s shirt was half tucked in and your hair was so damn messy. luckily, no one paid much attention to the vibe between you both that day. you two chatted all day about the ending of the film that neither of you actually watched, and you asked Reid to come over again soon and let you choose the movie.

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it wasn’t until a few months in that Reid overheard you talking to your mother on the phone, he loved the way you smiled and laughed when talking to her, and then how you said goodbye so softly. what he’d do to have you speak to him like that for a day. when you caught him staring, you threw your pen at him. you had desks right next to each other, so you often wheeled on over, just to talk to him. whenever you approached, he stopped whatever he was doing and gave his full attention to you. “so,” you began, leaning back in your chair, “seeing as you like listening to my phone calls with my mother,” he held back a smile, “how is your mother doing?” you asked. he handed you a piece of writing paper, and you raised an eyebrow at it. “she’s doing good, I was actually just writing my letter to her.” you scan over his words and smile. he’s telling her about his recent case (as much as he can without getting into trouble). you hand the letter back and watch him finish the rest over the course of the day. on the drive home he thinks of something else to add in before he sends it off tonight.

the first time Reid mentioned you to his mother in his letters, it was nothing but a mention of your first few days in the BAU

all of her replies consisted of asking about you, and if Spence liked you

Reid blew it off as you being work friends and nothing more, but a mother always knows.

now Reid asks you to add in a paragraph to every letter he writes, because his mother likes hearing from you (she thinks you’re smart, and very funny)

sometimes you receive random greeting cards from Reid’s mother through the post, and you reply to them with a smile on your face

you have all of her cards pinned up in the kitchen, Reid saw the collection once and marvelled at it

“oh yeah, your mother is lovely, I get one every so often.” you tell him, smiling at your growing collection. “I’m almost jealous.” Reid admits, with a smirk as you admire the cards. “she wants to meet you, you know. I kind of promised her I’d visit soon, and bring you with me.” your eyes met his, and he struggled to maintain eye contact. “why didn’t you say?” you lightly shoved him on the arm and booked tickets to see Reid’s mother that evening over takeaway and drinks.

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your visit to meet Reid’s mother went well, really well. you didn’t bat an eyelid when she said out of context things and made zero sense, you just smiled and listened. Reid had never adored you more than in that moment, sat across from his mother, listening to her rattle on. Reid was aware that he did the same sometimes, but you also listened to him when he was on one, and he loved you for it. you had the weekend in Nevada, and after visiting Reid’s mother, he suggested going to several different places. you spent all weekend going around Nevada, taking pictures for your parents and videos for your own memory. you’d booked adjoining rooms in the hotel after some careful consideration, but that didn’t stop you from walking straight into Reid’s room in your hotel robe asking to borrow toothpaste because there was apparently none in your bathroom. the truth was there was toothpaste in your bathroom, you just wanted to see Reid. it became a joke for you, and Reid was none the wiser, for a while.

Reid discovered when he was hanging out in your room that it was all a joke

after you had fell asleep watching a really bad movie, he went to turn the bathroom light off

only to find your own toothpaste sitting there on the bathroom sink, untouched

he realised what you’d done with a smirk and turned the bathroom light off

the next morning when you asked to borrow toothpaste again (purely to see him half-awake in bed) he said yes without hesitation and you let yourself into his room with a hidden smile

this was the first time he’d been part of an inside joke, and he loved it

you were in your short pyjamas, the heat of Nevada hadn’t been a joke, even with aircon in the rooms you found yourself hotter than usual. Reid watched as you entered his bathroom, taking the toothpaste, and returning to your bathroom. he smiled as you brushed your teeth, clueless to his newly acquired knowledge. he knew just what to do with it too. when you got back to Virginia, you showed your parents some moments from the trip and they asked some very thought provoking questions. “honey, this doctor guy seems lovely, are you sure it’s just a friendship?” your mother asked, watching you from across the kitchen. you smiled at her and nodded. “we’re good friends, and good work colleagues, I couldn’t ask for more.” you replied, to which your father nodded. “that’s all we can ask for, a good friend in your life.” your father then got up, walking over to you and your mother in the kitchen. he poured himself some coffee, thinking. you knew exactly what was coming. “but,” you started to chuckle, “are you sure this isn’t something more?” you nodded in silence, and he walked away, not believing a word you said. your mother eyed you up as you scrolled through the selfies of you and Spence in Nevada, and tutted. even she could see it, you were falling for this Spencer Reid character faster than you realised. still, she didn’t say anything, not yet at least. perhaps you’d come to the realisation once the trip became a memory and you thought about what a good time you had with your ‘work friend’. you giggled to yourself whenever you thought about the toothpaste stunts you’d pulled, thinking Spence was none the wiser, until he dropped you off home one evening after work and then a few minutes later knocked on your front door.  “Spence?” you asked, opening the front door to let him in. “hi, yeah, I actually meant to ask you something but it slipped my mind until just now.” he said, so casually. “I don’t have any toothpaste at home, could I borrow yours?” your cheeks betrayed you, as did your facial expression. Reid smiled devilishly at catching you out, and you brought your hands to your face. “you knew the whole time? oh why didn’t you say?!” you laughed weakly, as Reid watched you unravel in your hallway. you looked straight at him, eyes twinkling with mischief, but face so hot. Reid closed your front door, leaving his hand on the handle. “so?” he asked, eyes meeting yours. “can I borrow your toothpaste? or do I go home empty handed?” you finally got a hold on yourself, and pressed your lips together before facing him. “Spencer Reid, are you asking me for toothpaste, or something else?” you asked, taking steps towards him. “I think we both know the toothpaste isn’t what I’m here for.” he said it so calmly, looking at you with his beautiful, smart eyes. 

you shared your first kiss with the charming Dr. Reid that night, and things only got better from there

anything toothpaste related was immediately taken the wrong way by you two, whether on your own or with company

you both tried to hide the blossoming relationship, but soon the others in the BAU noticed all of those funny little things that happened between you and Spencer, and it became hard to hide it without feeling like you were suffocating one another. there would be serious discussions ahead, and you were already preparing to be transferred to another team, but you could do it if it meant staying with Spencer. something told you that Hotch may be able to keep things as they were for the time being, if you both behaved. and you’d both never do anything to disappoint Hotch, intentionally.

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messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

[borrowedtimeandspace]

Little Dipper

27. Jewelry

From this list of gt prompts

AU: Undefined Thirteen AU

Note: Finally watched Power of the Doctor, and I already miss Jodie. I do love the idea of these two together, and I hope I can write more for them. Very very excited for Fourteen and Fifteen though! Soon...

p.s. TIL that 'dipper' is British slang for a pickpocket. Go figure.

~~~

“Zepheera!!”

The Doctor’s voice bounced off the jagged metal surfaces around her as she called out for her diminutive companion. She watched every step and peeked around and under every single thing in her path through the wrecked ship to be absolutely certain the four and a half inch tall woman wouldn't be overlooked.

Everything had gone to plan. …Mostly. Sure, being captured and separated from the TARDIS was never ideal, but they had an ace up their sleeve! Or to be more accurate, the Doctor had a borrower down her coat hood, completely undetected by their captors.

Like usual, they played to their strengths to get out. The Doctor ran distraction, letting her motormouth run free while Zepheera snuck around in the ship's nooks and crannies to find ways to sabotage the craft. 

It was a calculated risk. They were still within the atmosphere of a planet and not that far from its surface, and the Doctor insisted there was very little that Zepheera could mess with that wouldn't have some sort of emergency backup that would kick in eventually. It was simply a matter of throwing enough out of whack to cause a little chaos and give the Doctor a chance to gain her freedom and an upper hand. Worst case scenario, the ship got a little bumped and scraped if nobody could stabilize it before they hit the ground. 

And, well…

In the aftermath of the crash, the crew were now more concerned about the ship's status than keeping an eye on the Doctor, so long as she didn't run off on them. That left her alone in her search for her friend, desperately listening for any reply.

Finally, as she approached the bridge, she finally heard it. A faint but familiar voice ringing out distantly over her head.

“Doctor…!”

Blonde hair whipped around as the Doctor craned her neck to find the borrower calling back to her. It was all a bit of a mess to say the least, but she'd been traveling with Zepheera long enough to have really honed her keen eye for the tiniest movements. Up in what used to be the ceiling, a maintenance panel had come off and what looked like several rolls of wire had come undone. A tiny figure waved for the Time Lord’s attention in the hole the missing panel left.

“Oh, you're okay!” the Doctor beamed, beyond relieved to see Zepheera in one piece. She had no doubt that her friend was clever and hardier than she looked, but the crash had been a little more intense than anticipated and she couldn't help worrying. With a wave back, screwdriver in hand, she added, “A-plus work! Got my sonic back, and now we can figure out what's going on here, and how to get back to the Tardis!”

Zepheera gave an exaggerated shrugging motion with her arms as she looked down on the completely knackered bridge. “Got a bit carried away, I guess! Thought you said they had ways to keep it from crashing!”

The Doctor winced. “I may have got the model numbers muddled up. Ooh! Try saying that five times fast. Anyway, let's get you down from there! Can you climb these?” She gestured broadly toward the wires, which were long enough to make it all the way down to the bridge floor. 

The ceiling was quite a substantial height, and at a bit of an angle thanks to the ship being slightly wedged into the ground. That put the panel hole about thirty feet above the Doctor's head. Borrowers, as Zepheera had demonstrated on a number of occasions, were excellent climbers. The Doctor had no doubt in her skills, only the precarious nature of this particular circumstance. The wires all seemed rather slick, and wouldn't be likely to offer much in the way of purchase.

Zepheera seemed to be following the exact same train of thought as the Doctor, having gone quiet as her shape shifted slightly in the opening. Then she piped up, “Actually… I'll be down in a jiff. Get ready to catch me!”

The Doctor didn't have time to wonder what the plan was; Zepheera disappeared completely from the panel, leaving the Time Lord to hurry and get into position near the wires.

To her surprise, Zepheera leapt out of the hole, catching her fall on something draped over one of the wires to slide down like a zip line. The Doctor hadn't seen her use something like that before, and was certain that she would have by now if this was something Zepheera kept on her.

As the borrower slid further down the wire and closer to the Doctor, realization struck her. What little sunlight came in through windows and cracked seams of the ship glinted off the silver material of Zepheera's sliding device, the shape of which was awfully familiar. One of the Doctor's primed-to-catch hands snapped up to her left ear.

Her jaw dropped, and she shot an affronted glare to her rapidly descending companion. “Oh, you cheeky little–!”

She didn't have time to finish her grumble before it came time to actually catch Zepheera. She landed in a heap in the Doctor's right hand, breathing hard after such a leap.

The Doctor's earring chain lay across her lap, having done its job of carrying the borrower all the way down the wire.

“When did you even have time to nick that??” demanded the Doctor.

“Oi!” Zepheera shot back while she gathered the jewelry up in her arms and pushed herself up to stand on the Doctor's palm. “I didn't nick it. I borrowed it.” To illustrate her point, Zepheera took the two studs at the ends of the chain in her hands and held her arms out long for the Doctor to take it back. “Easy to forget when it doesn't come up much out in space, I know, but I am very good at it.”

The Doctor snatched the earring with a flat look at Zepheera before she deposited her to a shoulder to free up her hand. “Smart move,” she admitted. “Ask nicely for it next time, and you might earn bonus points.”

“On top of my A-plus?” Zepheera prodded teasingly.

Rather than rise to the bait, the Doctor simply started to replace her earring. This meant both her hands encroached on Zepheera's space, and she was lightly shoved off of the Doctor's shoulder to slide harmlessly into her hood.

Though she pretended not to notice, the Doctor listened for the telltale muffled “Oomph!” and the light squirming against her back before she started walking. She could already feel Zepheera starting to climb her way back up to the opposite shoulder.

“Right,” said the Doctor decisively on the way to one of the ship's numerous newly opened exits. “Back to business.”