#i mean other than that they said they loved it and had lots of very kind things to say about it.

[wosospacegirl]

I’m not being mean - Head Coach Leah x Arsenal! r (+18)

Summary: Coach! Leah punishes the reader during a forbidden make-out session.

Warnings: +18!!!!!! dominant!L x lots of kissing x fingering x reader being needy and L being mean x little bit of aftercare.

Word count: 1.2k.

Masterlist here

I'm kinda new to the Woso world, so I don't know if you guys like fics like this... but I'm a slut for dominant woman so yeah :D.

..

Leah’s tongue was wet and warm against Y/n’s mouth, her icy hand gripping the youngest girl’s hip, pulling her closer as Leah deepened the kiss.

 Y/n moaned, tilting her head to give Leah room to explore her neck. The blonde woman found her lips at Y/n’s jugular, sucking it lightly.

“Don’t,” Y/n whined, pushing Leah away slightly. “You can’t leave marks, or the other will see them.”

“Use a turtleneck,” Leah mumbled unrepentantly, pulling Y/n closer, her mouth back on her neck.

“I can’t use a turtleneck for training,” Y/n said, her words and moans blending together. “That’s so good, Leah, more.” She whispered, opening her legs and grinding against Leah’s knee.

Leah smirked. Y/n was just like that, always worried about everything and everyone, but as soon as Leah touched her, she went limp.

Leah had agreed to become Arsenal’s manager after a career-ending injury had shattered her world. It took her some time to accept her new life, but Leah couldn’t say she was unhappy. The ex-lioness had been very successful in her new role. She led Arsenal to many victories, cups, and titles.

Unfortunately, being a manager also meant that Leah couldn’t kiss Y/n, the new Arsenal signing for the season.

Leah and Y/n didn’t get along at first. Leah was too grumpy and Y/n too enthusiastic. Y/n had said they were like a black cat and a golden retriever. Leah disagreed; she didn’t like cats.

The truth was: Leah and Y/n didn’t get on. Leah was rude when Y/n was kind. Leah was confident when Y/n was not. If they spent too much time talking, they would argue, so that’s when the make out sessions came in.

When the two women were making out, nothing else mattered. It was as if their bodies had known each other for centuries. Leah knew where to touch Y/n and the young girl was quick to do whatever Leah wanted of her.

Leah stopped their kiss to pull at Y/n shirt. It was dirty with grass and dirty from the pitch, but she didn’t care. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” Leah whispered, looking at Y/n’s chest. The girl was wearing a smaller training bra, her erected nipples drawing Leah's attention.

The blonde quickly stripped Y/n’s down to her shorts, her mouth sucking on Y/n’s breast as Y/n rubbed herself even harder against Leah’s leg.

“Can I leave a mark here, love?” Leah asked teasingly, grinding in her teeth on Y/n’s nipple before taking it with her teeth.

Love.

Leah only called Y/n love when they were like... this. Y/n didn’t mind, or at least she told herself she didn’t mind that the only time Leah was affectionate towards her was when they were having sex.

Y/n was ripped from her thoughts as she felt Leah’s firm grip on her jaw. “Look at me,” Leah said. “If I ask you a question, you answer it immediately, understand?”

Y/n nodded, moaning as Leah gave her a sharp slap on her ass. It would have hurt even more if she hadn’t been wearing her Arsenal shorts.  

“Good girl,” Leah smiled, kissing Y/n again, more intensely.

Leah was clearly more dominant than Y/n. She liked to boss people around and hated it when they didn’t do what she wanted. Leah fucking loved it having the upper hand.

Y/n liked being told what to do, she enjoyed when Leah treated her like she was just a stupid horny girl.

Leah knew the effect she had on the girl’s body, knew how wet Y/n’s pussy got when she was a bit mean to her.

“I want you, please.” Y/n murmured against Leah’s ear. The throbbing in her pussy was getting too much, it hurt.

“I don’t think you deserve it,” Leah bit Y/n’s earlobe. “You forget your boots again, didn’t you? That’s why you were a bit clumsy on the field today.

Y/n had a bad habit of forgetting things, being late… all the things Leah hated.

“I—I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Y/n promised, whimpering as Leah’s finger finally found its way into to clit. “There, please.” The girl moved herself against Leah’s hand, trying to find more friction.

“You say that every time, love, you never learn, do you?”

Leah noticed that Y/n’s legs were shaking, so she held Y/n tighter against her, teasing Y/n’s wet hole. She put a finger, and then another, Moving them slowly.

“I do learn,” Y/n tried to protest.

“No, you don’t, you need me to remind you of everything, just a little puppy you are.” Leah whispered in Y/n’s ears, her warm walls welcoming Leah’s third finger.

“Please, Leah, let me? Please?” Y/n begged, feeling an orgasm approaching. It was as if her chest was tightening, as if there wasn’t enough air for her to breathe.

“Are you close, love?” Leah asked, cupping Y/n’s face and kissing her mouth softly.

Y/n nodded, moving her hips, feeling Leah’s fingers deep inside her.

Just a little more and she would come, just a little more.

“Too bad, not today, darling,” Leah said, removing her finger from Y/n’s pussy as she held the girls hip firmly, scared that Y/n would fall.

“What?!” Y/n cried. “No, more!” Y/n begged as she closed her hands around Leah’s and cupped them on her pussy. “Don’t be mean, please, more.”

Leah quickly grabbed Y/n’s wrists with one hand while holding her jaw with the other. “I’m not being mean, you were the one who left your things at home, this is your punishment.”

Y/n looked at Leah desperately. She was almost there; her tights were already shaking with need.

“I’ve already said I’m sorry,” Y/n grumbled looking down, her cheeks wet.

Leah wiped away her tears, kissed her forehead and pulled the girl into a hug.

“You know I don’t like you crying like that,” Leah said as she sat in her chair, Y/n on her lap. Leah put a comforting hand on Y/n’s back and let the girl cry for a while.

“Come on, let’s get you dressed, shall we?” Leah kissed Y/n’s cheek as she helped the girl back into her training clothes.

Y/n didn’t say a word, she just let Leah do as she pleased.

The blonde women took some tissues to wipe Y/n’s face. “I’m sorry I cried, I know you don’t like it,” Y/n mumbled, placing her head on Leah’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Leah told her. “Are you all right now?”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I should probably get going.” Y/n lifted herself form Leah’s lap, but the older women held her down.

“You don’t have to go now, you can stay here a little longer, just so I can make sure you’re really ok.”

Leah might be grumpy and distant, but she gave good aftercare.

“I know you have things to do,” Y/n gave Leah a sad smile. “I have to go home anyway.”

“All right then,” Leah agreed, taking her hands off Y/n.

Y/n was still a bit shaky, but she didn’t want Leah to see it. It was hard to let yourself be vulnerable with someone, and even harder when your feelings weren’t reciprocated.

Leah got up and opened the door to her office, taking a quick look outside to see if anyone was around. No one could know about Leah and Y/n, or well, now about their sex arrangement.

“No one is here, you can go,” Leah said, no more softness in her voice. She was back to being the team’s Manager. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Y/n walked out the door. “Yeah, bye,” she mumbled.

“Don’t forget your boots again.” That was the last thing Leah said before closing the door, leaving Y/n alone in the corridor.

[mrspiastri]

I would like to request a desi girl x lewis fic

desi munda 🪅

pairing: lewis hamilton x desi!reader

cw: fluff, lewis being a bit negative etc etc

wc: 2k words

an: thanks anon, hope u like my first lewis fic!

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

“The last time I felt like this before a race was probably in 2008. It’s madness,” Lewis lamented in his driver’s room as he put on his fireproofs, getting ready to review the final data before hopping into the car.

“Well, it probably has to do with the fact that you’re racing in India after more than a decade. Unfamiliar track and all that jazz,” Y/N responded from where she was seated on the couch, filing her nails and adding the final touches to her makeup.

“I think it might be more because my gorgeous girlfriend won’t even look at my face,” he commented with a slight grin as he shimmied into his race suit.

She playfully rolled her eyes, snapping her compact mirror shut and stuffing it into her purse before looking at him. “There, now I’m all yours.” She smiled up at him as he walked across the room, towering over her.

“I think you’ve got a lot of pressure on you today, and not just from Fred and the team,” Y/N stated, making Lewis groan before plopping down next to her on the couch in a less-than-graceful manner.

“If you’re talking about your family, then yes, it’s probably that. I think I saw all your cousins and your aunts in the first three rows of the grandstands,” he muttered pitifully, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. She took pity on him, wrapping her arms around him as he continued ranting.

“I know they’re excited to see their future son-in-law doing what he does best—” Y/N let out an incredulous grunt at this—“but this is INSANE! I might die of stress, honestly.”

She laughed at him before holding his chin and making him look up at her. “You’re going to do wonderful, Lew. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. They all know you’re the best damn driver on the grid; they’re just excited to see you in your element.”

“But if I don’t win, they’re going to think I’m useless. A washed-up, no-good idiot who can’t even win a stupid race,” he sighed, slumping further down, letting his negative thoughts take over.

Y/N sat up straighter at this. “I know you’re not talking about yourself like that. Lewis, you are an amazing driver, and you know that very well,” she said firmly, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Besides, my whole family loves you! You could come dead fucking last, and they’d still cheer. Heck, you could DNF, and they’d cheer as you brought your car into the pits to retire from the race.”

Lewis let out a dry laugh at that. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“I just... I don’t want them to think I’m a loser. I want them to see me as a part of their family—as your future husband. If they see me lose, they’ll think I’m not good enough for you,” he finally admitted, revealing what had been weighing on him ever since Y/N told him her family would be attending the race.

Y/N was silent, emotions warring inside her. On one hand, she was shocked he thought so lowly of himself and his reputation in front of her family. But on the other hand, the fact that he had thought so far ahead about their future made her want to grab his face and kiss him until he forgot every single doubt in his head.

“Lew, I promise you—whatever happens today won’t change their perception of you. To them, you are the coolest, most enigmatic person ever. And you’re *definitely* the best catch out of all the other partners my family members have brought home. I mean, come on, who can beat a seven-time Formula One World Champion?”

A knock at the door interrupted them, a staff member reminding Lewis that he had to check the final corrections made to the car after qualifying before the formation lap started in 15 minutes.

“I’ll meet my parents in the garage; you go on ahead,” she said, standing up and adjusting the red dress she wore, showing her full support for the Ferrari driver.

Lewis got into the car, checking if the throttle and steering were working fine. “Seems good. Wanna start the lap?” he asked his engineers, receiving an affirmative response.

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on his skin. “A kiss for good luck—and to remove the stupid thoughts in your head.”

“I was hoping for a proper one,” Lewis playfully pouted up at her.

“That’s for after the race. You gotta have something to look forward to, na?”

He simply laughed before putting on his helmet. The sound of his car revving up echoed in the garage as he exited. Y/N, meanwhile, made her way to the back where her parents waited for her, smiling at the conversation she had just had with Lewis.

“He seems stressed. Hope it doesn’t affect his performance,” her dad pointed out, making her sigh in worry.

“He is. Honestly, he’s more worried about disappointing the family than he is about losing,” she confided.

“I hope you told him he’s crazy for even thinkingthat,” her mother gasped.

Y/N winked while putting her headphones on. “You know it.”

🪺🪺🪺

It was the final lap of the race. Lewis had overtaken Max at the start of lap 37, after tailing him for more than half of the race. In the Ferrari garage, tensions were high, with both drivers in podium positions.

As the checkered flag waved, Lewis soared past it, clinching victory in front of his girlfriend’s home crowd and further cementing Ferrari’s Constructors’ Championship title contention.

The announcers’ voices boomed throughout the grandstands, the crowd erupting into cheers. Everyone at the Ferrari garage ran out to celebrate with Lewis and Charles in parc fermé, the latter having placed third. Y/N and her parents were escorted to where the podium finishers had gathered their cars.

Lewis stood on his car, bowing to the roaring fans with his palms pressed together in a namaste pose—just like she had taught him.

The team cheered him and Charles on, with pats on the back and massive hugs. Lewis was all smiles, scanning the crowd until his eyes found Y/N, waving at him from behind the barriers.

He ran up to her, lifting her off the ground in the biggest hug he could manage without hoisting her over the barrier. She hugged him tighter, his helmet getting in the way.

He pulled it off, handing it to a team member before pulling her in again. “Now, about that kiss you mentioned earlier...” he grinned.

“You are impossible!” Y/N laughed, playfully pushing his chest.

“Good thing you love it.��

She rolled her eyes but didn’t let him suffer for long. She leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slow and lingering, as if they wanted to memorize the feel of each other. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his race suit, anchoring herself in his warmth.

The crowds, the cheers, the cameras—it all faded into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads rested together, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I forgot we were in public for a second.”

He chuckled, fingers tracing her back. “Me too. Hope your dad doesn’t beat the shit out of me.”

Her parents decided to turn a blind eye to the couple, instead focusing on congratulating Lewis on his win. However, he couldn’t help but notice her father slapping his back just a little harder than necessary, a certain look in his eye that made Lewis straighten up.

🪺🪺🪺

Later, in the Ferrari hospitality, Y/N groaned as Lewis reached for her.

“Please shower! The champagne and sweat combined make me want to puke.”

Lewis, of course, ignored this, chasing her around until he finally caught her in his grasp—sweat, champagne, and all.

“You’re so disgusting. I just washed my hair, yaar.”

Her smirk, however, gave her away.

“Well, Lewis,” her cousin quipped, “you’ve definitely earned your spot in the family now.”

Lewis grinned. “Well, I’d hope so. It was very nice of you all to come out today—really motivated me. And scared the living shit out of me.”

The whole room burst into laughter. Her father cleared his throat, eyeing the two of them. “You’ve done well today, beta. You’ve got speed, skill, and determination—but most importantly, you make my daughter happy.

Lewis straightened slightly, sensing the weight of the moment. “That means the world to me, sir.”

Her father studied him for a beat before nodding approvingly. “Good. Now go shower before you suffocate us with that champagne stench.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “I told you.” Lewis laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s temple before heading off. “I’ll be back—don’t have too much fun without me.”

🪺🪺🪺

The afterparty was in full swing by the time Lewis and Y/N arrived. The upscale venue was buzzing with energy—team members, rival drivers, and VIP guests mingled over glasses of champagne, the hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the music playing overhead.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, celebratory drinks, and the undeniable electricity of victory.

When the doors opened, all heads instinctively turned toward the couple making their entrance.

Lewis Hamilton, still glowing from his win, walked in with Y/N by his side, her right arm slotted in the crook oh his left one. They were well dressed as always — Lewis in a well-fitted, deep blue kurta, a nod to Y/N’s heritage, and Y/N in a breathtaking red saree that shimmered under the golden lights. The rich fabric draped over her in a way that left little to the imagination, her bangles softly jingling as she adjusted her hold on his arm.

“Well, don’t we look like a power couple?" Charles teased, raising his glass as they approached.

Y/N smirked. "You’re just jealous, Charlie."

“Of the matching outfits or the fact that you two have already stolen all the attention?" Carlos chimed in with a grin.

Lewis chuckled, placing a protective hand on the small of Y/N’s back. "Can’t blame them. My girl does clean up pretty damn well."

Y/N turned to him, eyes dancing with amusement. "Only fair, considering I dressed you."

Lewis leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor by looking this good." She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she tugged him toward the bar.

"Come on, Mr. Race Winner, let’s get you a drink before you get too cocky." The bartender barely had a chance to ask before Charles called out, "A whiskey for the champion and—Y/N, what are you drinking?"

"White wine," she replied.

Lewis took the glass from the bartender and handed it to her before raising his own in a silent toast. "To surviving your family’s initiation," he joked.

She laughed softly, clinking her glass against his. "Oh, you’re not done yet. This is just the beginning. But let’s talk about that later, because the only thing I’m focusing on is how good you look in this kurta.”

He laughed, “Well you’re the one who said I should wear this instead of the red one I wanted to go with.”

“It’s called contrast, and we’re pulling it off well. Besides, you look much more handsome in this, like a proper desi munda.

Lewis narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "That sounds both adorable and terrifying. Should I be worried?"

Y/N smirked, "Don’t worry about it.”

Before he could question her, the music shifted to something slower, more sultry, and Lewis took that as his cue. Handing his glass to Carlos, he turned to Y/N with a familiar glint in his eye.

"May I have this dance?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You? Dancing at a public event?"

Lewis smirked, pulling her toward him without waiting for an answer. "For you? Always."

And just like that, in the middle of the celebration, the world shrank down to just the two of them—spinning, laughing, and getting lost in each other, a champion on the track and in love.

never written for lewis before so hope this is nice anon. honestly not very proud of this one but like fuck it we ball <4

[gold-onthe-inside]

blind date

who? spencer reid (s8) x blake!reader summary: you finally give into your godmother's insistence on going on a date with her colleague, if only to get her off your back, and find yourself having to break the heart of someone who could have been the love of your life. content warnings: not a happy ending (i warned you, you don't get to yell at me), reader is blake's goddaughter and a therapist. word count: 2.1k

You let out a slow breath before entering the restaurant, smoothing down your dress, still second-guessing your outfit - a purple dress matched with a dark velvet jacket and a black purse with a gold chain belt - as if you hadn’t spent your day looking up what women in their 30s wore on first dates. Not like it matters, you told yourself. You’d get through the date, politely tell the guy that he was great but you weren’t interested, and hopefully be home by 10pm. You turn your gaze to the maitre’d, telling him the table was under Reid’s name.

You had told yourself on the way that you couldn’t hold it against him if he was late — you still remember the coffee meetings your own godmother never turned up to — but it turned out he was earlier than you. Where you showed up to everything ten minutes in advance, he showed up twenty-five minutes.

You saw him first, looking into the silver ware and flattening down his hair and adjusting his tie, clearly nervous, looking up when he heard you thank the maitre’d. Spencer almost stumbled over himself as he stood up to pull your chair out for you and you feel an overwhelming urge to reassure him. “H-Hi,” he said, matching your awkward smile. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, taking the seat and watching him take his, his hand splayed against his chest to keep his tie back. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”

His laugh is nervous, God help him, and he corrects the displaced silverware so they align perfectly before he looked at you again. “I, uh, I get that a lot.”

“Go on a lot of blind dates then?” you asked, sipping the water within reach, and you can see panic flash across his face.

“No! I mean, I’ve-I’ve been on dates before. Just um—” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I meant I get the-the height thing, quite a bit. Not that there’s been a lot—”

“Breathe, Spencer,” you feel compelled to say as his face flushes. You’d meant to tease, not give the man a heart attack.

“Sorry,” he murmured, trying to get a grip on himself. God, how did Derek do this? “Um… Blake, sorry, Alex, told me that you’re a therapist,” he said, focusing on something concrete.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, not sure how much information you wanted to tell him. Though, to be fair, he was a federal agent. He could have it found out anyway. “I work at a clinic in Georgetown,” you said, folding your hands in front of you and overthinking whether you should be crossing your legs or not. This was usually the point where the guy would ask if you could read his mind, or attempt to educate you on how mental health was a sham and everyone just needs to get some exercise, and that would be your cue to fake an emergency exit. Maybe you’d get home in time to watch some decent TV.

“Is it hard?” he asked, taking a sip of water before he leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. It was endearing, and surprising.

“It can be,” you answered, leaning in slightly. “Some days you get really, really good sessions, you know? And other days it’s…”

“Hell?” he offered and you let out a small huff.

“Try having a seven year old drawing on furniture with chalk,” you told him, watching him wince.

“I, uh… have a confession,” he said, leaning even closer, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I did that as a kid.”

"Understimulated in class, huh?" you asked, smiling at him a little more.

“A lot,” he admitted. “I learned to read very young, and… well, then everyone wanted me to read, and it wasn’t as fun anymore, you know?”

“Mm,” you say in agreement, but before you continue, the waiter comes, and you both order a glass of wine, and appetizers to split. “So, you must be dealing with a lot worse than pre-pubescent vandalism, right?” you asked, pulling apart the fried mozzarella balls with delicate precision, and you watch him think for a moment.

“I’m just trying to decide if the last case we worked would be preferable to handling a toddler, and I honestly think I’d prefer the serial killer,” he said thoughtfully and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you.

"Yeah, no, I don't blame you," you replied, sipping your wine.

“What about you?” he asked between bites. “Did you know you wanted to be a psychologist from day one?”

"Uh... No, I actually thought I would go into linguistics, like Alex, but somewhere around my first year into undergrad, I realised that psychology was my calling," you said.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning his elbow on the table. You liked the way he gave you his full attention; his eyes hadn’t strayed from you since you’d gotten there.

“Uh, we used to have to do these case studies and we’d do these role plays where everyone had a presenting concern to work with, and I used to get this… high whenever I’d figured the client out. Like that moment where everything just… clicks into place. And I got addicted to it,” you said, your words and love for your job captivating.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said, his smile widening. “I’m sure Alex’s told you that I have an… impressive memory. The cases we work on-the ones they don’t put in our files on purpose-I remember every single piece of information. It’s like the details don’t leave me. So when we finally catch the unsubs, the-the serial killers…” His voice lowers, leaning further over the table to you and he’s so close, you can almost smell his cologne. “That’s when it clicks.”

You stared at him for a beat, like everything else in the world had gone still, his soft hazel eyes looking affectionately into yours, and then the waiter comes over and the bubble between you two pops, springing apart like two teenagers being walked in on. You can see the flush come over his skin, just as the waiter places his plates in front of him, and focus on ordering your dinner, Spencer agreeing to whatever you ordered.

“So,” you started as the waiter left, and you could see the hint of a smile cross his lips. “Spencer, what do you do for fun?”

He hums a little, thinking. “I read, obviously, and I play poker, although I think half the team suspects I’m counting cards.” He leans forward. “Don't tell them, but I am.”

“You can count cards?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief.

He tilts his head to the side, and he looks like some kind of adorable dog, and your cheeks flush a little darker. “Is it that surprising?” Spencer asks. “I mean, if you know the math, it’s-“ He seems to stumble a little, like he’s worried he’ll bore you with the explanation.

“Keep going,” you prompt him, interested.

“I mean, it’s not foolproof,” he starts, the words flowing quickly from him. “You can’t really predict probability with any certainty. It’s just… really good guessing.” He smiles proudly. “I’m actually banned from a few casinos in Vegas.”

You sipped your wine, shaking your head. "You've gotta teach me how, cause I swear, Alex beats me every time."

“You play poker?” Spencer asked, and you nodded, taking another sip of wine. “Of course, you do,” he added, smiling. “You’re perfect,” he blurted, then started, his face flushing a deep colour.

You could fall in love with this man if you let yourself, and it’s a scary thought. Alex hadn’t been kidding when she said that Spencer was perfect for you. Then why was there this horrible pit in your stomach, like an anvil hovering over you?

The rest of the dinner went perfectly, Spencer pulling out your chair for you as you both prepared to leave. The air was crisp, just a little chilly — spring wasn’t quite ready to fully come out of hiding yet. There was a certain energy between you both; a sense of hope you had long forgotten, and as he walked you to your car, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking up and meeting his eyes.

You'd felt this way before... four years ago when you met the man you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with, and suddenly, the idea of going through that again... It scared the living daylights out of you. "This was really nice," you managed, looking at him.

“It was,” he agreed, his hands shoving into his pockets. “I’d like to see you again.” He said it casually, but his eyes betrayed him, like he was afraid you were going to refuse.

You swallowed, reminding yourself to take a breath. "Spencer, you're... really great. I mean, seriously, any girl would be lucky to go out with you," you said slowly. "But if I'm honest... I only came out tonight to get Alex off my back."

You can see the way it crushes him; the light in his eyes dimming. His shoulders drop and his head lowers, and you feel a wave of guilt overcome you, but your feet stay rooted to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but you know his words are meant more for his own failings than for you - you can see it in his body language, how he’s withdrawing into himself. What you expect is for him to walk away; instead, he looks back up at you, and you feel your heart break as your eyes meet his pained ones.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," you said softly. "I should never have..." You took a sharp breath. "I like you, Spencer. A lot, probably more than I'm ready for. But I just got out of a long-term relationship. I'm not ready to jump into another one, especially with someone who... who deserves a lot more."

“I-I don’t mind taking things slow,” he said, his voice soft as his eyes searched your face, and you knew he was telling you the truth. But he doesn’t deserve to be some kind of… emotional training wheels for you, as you work through a bad breakup. He deserves more than you’ve got to offer.

"Of course you don't," you said, with a tinge of fondness. "You're perfect."

"I think I'm far from perfect," he says, with a self-deprecating grin. "But I'd be happy to be, um... whatever it is you're ready for."

You don't want to say it, but he's really, really, really hard to say 'No' to, and the fact he was so genuine in wanting to be around you made your heart clench. You wanted to say 'yes' so desperately.

Maybe you should say 'yes'. Just to see what happens.

"It's a bad idea," you said reluctantly, your resolve crumbling.

"But it might be just what you need," Spencer said, and he's right - you hate it but you can feel the way he's pulling you in. The way those hazel eyes hold you; the way you just want to spend more time with him.

A mistake, you think to yourself, just as his hand slides down, his fingers slotting with yours. A glorious mistake.

"I don't want to do that to you," you murmured, even though all you wanted to do was kiss him and take him home and ruin him.

"Please," he murmured, stepping just a little closer, as if you had any resolve left at this point. "I'm a big boy. I can make that decision for myself."

The way he stepped so close to you made your skin tingle, and something deep within you tightened, and you were sure that Spencer could see it in your eyes. Your free hand lifted, sliding along his cheek. "I can't," you said, thumb gliding against his cheekbone. "I'm sorry."

Spencer stepped back, and you watch the way his face falls, your hand falling away to your side, but he nods, and the part of you that wasn't ready for this, was happy you'd made that decision. That he would stay safe and away from you - but then he leaned down, and before you can process what it was, he presses a warm kiss to your cheek. "I had a really nice time, tonight," Spencer murmured, and you can hear the sound of his footsteps leave before you can get your mouth to work again.

"Me too," you murmured into the air, sinking against your car, wondering if you'd just made the biggest mistake of your life, letting him slip through your fingers.

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I absolutely love your PA series! And I'm craving some jealous Jamie :) Could you maybe write something like that? 🫣 Maybe Edwin Akufo or Shandy make a comeback and try to stirr shit up for the team? Thanks 🤭

A Nice Guy

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes

Being Jamie Tartt’s PA meant dealing with a lot of things—his ridiculous schedule, his forgotten appointments, and the occasional existential crisis when he’d suddenly decided he had to go on a juice cleanse and then immediately regret it.

What it didn’t include?

Dealing with a jealous Jamie Tartt. That wasn't in the job description.

But here he was, sitting stiffly across the room, jaw clenched, arms crossed so tightly across his chest it looked like he was physically holding himself back from doing something stupid.

Which, to be fair, was likely.

His glare was locked onto Y/N like she had personally offended him.

Which was insane, because all she’d done was laugh at something Ewin Akufo's assistant, said.

It was a post-match event—some fancy dinner, media, sponsors, the usual. Edwin Akufo was there again, this time he was scouting players from the other team, Westham United, and his assistant and 'hand-shake-guy' Francis was with him. Y/N and him have started a great conversation, both having very eccentric and needy bosses, that's why they kind of bonded. He also bought her a drink.

Jamie had played brilliantly, scoring two goals and basically running circles around the other team. He should’ve been basking in the attention, flashing that cocky grin at every camera in sight.

Instead, he was a table with some Richmond players...sulking.

Y/N caught his eye across the bar, raising an eyebrow. What’s your problem?

Jamie just stared.

Isaac, sitting next to him, nudged his arm. “Mate, you alright? You look ready to kill that man.”

Jamie exhaled sharply through his nose. “Fine.”

He was not fine.

Because Y/N was still smiling at Edwin Akufo's assistant—Franky something?—Jamie did not know his name. Edwin Akufo was the enemy and therefore this guy was too. Especially because he was talking to her like she was the most fascinating person in the world. And Jamie hated it....him.

"Oh, no Edwin is here? That is going to be a weird night," Sam interrupted his thoughts. "Uhm guys, why is Jamie staring down Edwin's assistant Francis?"

"Jamie's jealous because that guy's talking to Y/N," Isaac smirked at Sam and the whole situation, knowingly.

"Ah, I see... I mean Francis is a smooth guy," Sam said, having fun in riling up Jamie some more.

And Jamie was not having it.

She was his.

Wait—no. Not his his. But, like… his. Kind of.

She worked for him. She spent more time with him than anyone else. She put up with his antics, laughed at his jokes, rolled her eyes at his stupidity in a way that made Jamie’s chest go all warm and stupid.

And now some random bloke thought he could just—what? Make her laugh? Charm her?

Not happening.

Jamie stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. Isaac and Sam barely had time to react before Jamie was already moving, striding toward Y/N with a forced, polite smile.

“Oi, who the fuck are you, then?”

Francis looked up, blinking in surprise. “Oh, Mr. Tartt. My name is Francis. Y/N has told me a lot about you. Great game tonight, man.”

Francis put out his hand for one of those manly handshakes. Jamie looked at Y/N and she gave him that warning 'be nice' look.

So, Jamie played nice and gave him a hand. And fuck that handshake really was smooth as fuck. He was a smooth motherfucker, fucking prick.

"Well, Jamie. You are lucky you have such a beautiful assistant like Y/N." Francis said, about to put an arm on Y/N's shoulder.

"Ain't I a lucky guy, huh? Y/N's actually pretty busy, so we have to leave now." Jamie ignored his antics to start a conversation completely, eyes locked on Y/N as he tugged at her wrist. “You ready to go, love?”

Y/N sighed, clearly catching on. “Actually Jamie—”

But he was already tugging her away, ignoring Francis's confused stare. He didn’t stop until they were near the entrance, away from the crowd.

Y/N yanked her arm free, stepping back to face him. “Okay, what’s wrong with you? I had a great conversation with him. I also have your schedule memorized and we both have the rest evening off, so...”

Jamie scoffed. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Nah, what’s wrong with you?”

She crossed her arms. “Oh wow, great argument, Shakespeare. Real convincing. Please, elaborate!”

Jamie ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Why were you even talkin’ to him?”

Y/N blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

She let out a short laugh. “Jamie. It was a conversation. That’s what people do at events. I can talk to whoever I want.”

Jamie scowled. “Yeah, well, he was definitely flirting with you.”

Y/N tilted her head. “And that bothers you because…?”

Jamie hesitated. “’Cause…”

Because you’re mine.

But he couldn’t say that.

Instead, he muttered, “He’s a dick. You know he's Akufo's assistant so he's probably proper evil, like his boss.”

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s your reason?”

Jamie doubled down. “Yeah. That. And—uhhh— Sam was also proper mad at you, because of his thing with Akufo and all stuff.”

Man, oh, man. Jamie used to be so much better at lying... Sam Obisanya mad, at her? Yeah, right.

“Jamie.” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” Jamie shot back, stepping closer. “What could he possibly have to say that’s so funny?”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go. “It wasn’t even that funny, Jamie.”

Jamie threw his hands up. “Exactly!”

Y/N shook her head, watching him. He was all riled up, eyes bright with frustration, jaw tight.

And she realized—this wasn’t just annoyance.

This was jealousy.

Jamie Tartt, jealous.

Something about that sent a thrill down her spine.

She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “You do know I talk to men all the time, right?”

Jamie’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah, but not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you were actually enjoying it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so I’m not allowed to enjoy conversations now?”

Jamie pointed at her. “Not with him.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “You are ridiculous.”

Jamie scoffed. “Yeah, well, you—” He stopped, exhaling sharply, hands going to his hips as he looked at the floor. Then, quieter, he muttered, “I just don’t like seein’ you with people that think they can have you, alright?”

Y/N froze.

Jamie noticed.

Y/N blinked at him, Jamie’s words hanging between them.

'I just don’t like seein’ you with people that think they can have you, alright?'

For a second, neither of them said anything. Jamie had that look—like he’d said something too real, something that made his chest feel all tight and uncomfortable. Y/N knew him well enough to see it, to recognize the way he immediately started backtracking in his own head.

So, of course, she had to make it worse.

She smirked, tilting her head. "Jamie Tartt, are you jealous?"

Jamie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. "No."

"You so are."

"I’m not," he insisted, but his ears were turning red.

Y/N grinned. "Oh my God, you’re actually jealous."

Jamie exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Nah, see, I’m just lookin’ out for you."

"Looking out for me?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, a little too quickly. "’Cause, like, you deserve better, don’t ya?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Better than a nice, normal guy who wanted to talk about my work and buy me a drink?"

Jamie made a face. "Nice is just another word for boring, and you ain’t boring, are ya?"

Y/N hummed, pretending to consider it. "Hmm. So what you’re saying is, I should be with someone... exciting? Like an astronaut, huh?"

Jamie rolled his eyes. "I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t be wastin’ your time on a prick who works for someone like Akufo. And who doesn’t even know that you hate red wine."

Y/N’s smirk faltered.

Jamie caught it, but instead of panicking, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Yeah. Thought so."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are unbelievable."

"And yet," Jamie grinned, all cocky now that he had the upper hand again, "you’re still standin’ here talkin’ to me instead of goin’ back to your nice, normal bloke."

Y/N exhaled, shaking her head. "Well, I would go back, but unfortunately, my very high-maintenance boss decided to have a full-blown tantrum over it."

Jamie pressed a hand to his chest, gasping dramatically. "Me? A tantrum? That’s slander, that is."

Y/N laughed, shoving his arm. "Whatever. I’m going to get a drink."

Jamie grabbed her wrist before she could walk away, his grip loose but warm. "I’ll get it for ya."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Making up for ruining my night?"

Jamie smirked. "Nah. Just makin’ sure no one else tries to."

And maybe Y/N should’ve called him out on it, pointed out the way his jealousy kept creeping into everything he said. But instead, she just smiled, letting him hold onto her wrist for a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

"Alright, then, Tartt," she said, glancing at the bar. "Surprise me."

Jamie grinned. "Oh, you’re in for it now, love."

And maybe neither of them were saying what they really meant. But they were still enjoying the tension.

[elysianholly]

Hey! I had more thoughts.

The first time I was in fandom, Spuffy endgame was strictly a fan conceit. At the time, materials like the comics were not Spuffy-friendly. I phased out of fandom before the canon comics started trending into Spuffy territory, so in general, the Spuffy fandom space felt (to me) more wish fulfillment than anything we'd get to experience through official media.

That is clearly not the case now. The comics went hard Spuffy (and I contend they only ended the way they did because JW is a pansy-ass; but even their ending strongly indicated Spuffy endgame so whatever). We also have other non-canon comics that are very pro-Spuffy. These things would have blown mid-00s Holly's mind. No longer was Spuffy fan wish fulfillment -- we have been acknowledged within licensed material.

Why does this matter? I've seen a lot of concern that SMG's involvement will make Bangel endgame. And it might; we know how she feels about it. But if that's what happens, it will only be endgame in that particular continuation, no longer dominating all of Buffy storytelling. In fact, we have Spuffy endgame all over the fucking place. Not wish fulfillment, real endgame. That's something we didn't have for a long time.

Also, I'm inclined to believe that the 90s/00s shipping wars will be kept out of the reboot. If they're smart, they'll keep Buffy's love life vague. Why?

Spuffy fandom comprises most of the active Buffy fandom these days; I understand they won't want to alienate the old-guard fans who will tune in out of curiosity and nostalgia, but fandom is what keeps properties going.

The JW brand of feminists will reject this outright (i.e., the dudebros you see on Reddit). There will be complaints that Buffy has gone "woke" (with no sense of self-awareness, same as we've seen with Star Trek and Star Wars). Lose the JW dudebros and they'll review bomb it, and we know Disney listens to these assholes. And they WILL lose them. A non-JW Buffy is going to be way more inclusive.

Because of point 2, the success of the show will be decided by the diehards. That's us. Look at what happened with Veronica Mars. They pissed off the diehards and now it's Season 4? What Season 4?

I've said before that Spuffy is the reason we're still here. We're 20+ years old and have two incredibly active non-AO3 fanwork communities that are Spuffy exclusive, never mind the dominance on AO3. Can you point to any other ship where that's the case? (I mean if you can, awesome, but I'm not aware of it)

Anyway, I think that's it but don't hold me to it.

A Spuffy Fan's Perspective on the Reboot

So, as most Buffy fandom knows (unless they’ve been living under a rock in a crater on the Hellmouth), it was announced yesterday that SMG is involved in a Buffy reboot sequel series, one in which she will be a recurring but not central character.

As a lifelong Buffy fan, I’m expected to be overjoyed at this news, and I’m, well, not. Nor are a good number of people deeply entrenched in fandom. I’m super happy for the people who are excited. As a Spuffy fan, though, it’s hard to be jazzed for a number of reasons, among these being that SMG is most definitely a Bangel shipper, and despite being overwhelmingly more popular than Bangel in current times, Spuffy is often overlooked in a lot of key areas of the “official” Buffy promotions, the comics being a notable and welcome exception.

One thing I’ve noticed is a lot of people in Spuffy fandom are more than just “not normal” about Spuffy. I’ve struggled for 20+ years to both identify and articulate why the ship resonates with me so much to the point that news like this can make my anxiety spiral. I understand it’s not an ideal reaction media, but I have lived inside a neurodivergent brain my entire life and that ain’t about to change. And I’m not the only one—I’ve met and interacted with many, many people who feel as intensely as I do and also struggle to articulate why news like this distresses them.

So for everyone who is like me, slightly more than just “not normal” about Spuffy (or any aspect of Buffy!) and distressed about the news, here are some things I keep reminding myself.

Buffy is an Established Multi-Universe Property

We know that there are multiple universes in Buffy; it’s explored in The Wish and then confirmed by Anya later in the series. Not just multiple dimensions, but divergent/adjacent worlds to the one we saw in the show. This has been later explored in the comics, such as The Lost Summer, the Boom reboot, and The Last Vampire Slayer, never mind the plethora of authorized novels and the recent audio play. These were all officially sanctioned, licensed productions that exist outside the official canon.

All of these stories matter, regardless of whether or not they’re considered “official.” For my Spuffy people, some are Spuffy friendly and some are not. We acknowledge what we want to acknowledge and leave the rest behind. Me? If I find the sequel reboot upsetting, I’ll mentally shove it into one of those other worlds, the same as I’ve done with the comics for years (yes, even if they got Spuffy friendly).

One of the points that was brought up yesterday when I suggested just giving the sequel reboot the comics treatment was it’s harder to ignore if SMG is involved. And I get that; I felt the same way about the Slayers audioplay, because significant OG cast members were involved so it felt more official. But upon reflection, I do still think it’s the same as the comics, which were spearheaded and overseen by JW and still considered (until this sequel reboot happens) the official post-series canon. If the involvement of original artists is what makes or breaks something’s authority, then the medium shouldn’t really matter.

And on that note…

Star Wars Legends, Halloween, Terminator, & Other Reboots

For years—decades—following Return of the Jedi, the official Star Wars canon was continued in novels, the same as Buffy was. There was a rich tapestry of intergalactic politics, Leia and Han’s Force family, Luke and Mara Jade, and characters like Grand Admiral Thrawn that proved so popular he’s been recanonized.

These books existed and still exist. The new movies, the reset of canon, all things involving Rey Palpatine Skywalker and Kylo Ben Ren exist alongside established, official property. I know plenty of people who were upset that their investment in the extended Star Wars family was essentially nixed with the sequel series 10 years ago, and others who chose not to acknowledge the sequel series but maintain their post-Jedi canon.

In an era of reboots and sequel series, canon can become a bit diluted. You can’t just erase everything that came before you decided to hit the “start over” button. The recent Halloween trilogy flat-out ignored multiple movies to tell the story it wanted to tell. Terminator has done the same thing, multiple times, with the Sarah Connor Chronicles being officially licensed and more or less officially scrapped, and the last Terminator movie retconning like, what, four or five that came out after Judgment Day. That is to say, established canon doesn’t really matter in this era, because the people making these decisions are doing what fan artists have done for decades; keeping what they want, tossing all else aside, and focusing on the story they want to tell.

If what came before and what has been long established doesn’t matter (and I actually do love this; it opens up worlds and essentially gives us licensed what-if fics), then canon itself is kind of nebulous. It doesn’t matter what is or isn’t established, because established canon is a moving target, subject to personal interpretation. Don’t like the Halloween reboot? Ignore it. There are other movies out there. Don’t like the clusterfuck Disney has made of Star Wars? There is a fully developed alternative. Don’t like any of the options? Come up with your own. Comics do it all the time with superhero stories, and Buffy is nothing if not a superhero.

It’s All Fiction

This is what drives my husband crazy when I try to explain my beyond not normal feelings about Spuffy. It’s all fiction. We’re not talking about historical events here. All fiction lives in exactly one place, ultimately, and that’s between your ears. If you don’t like the way a fictional story went, you can do what fanartists have been doing for years and create your own fix-it. Or find a ready-made fix-it; I promise it exists. And the more I think about it, the less stock I put into “official” stories that are told primarily to make money. The people who are here telling these stories because they love the characters and know the characters on levels that frankly outperform most licensed stuff.

In Summary

So I’ve rambled a lot, but here are the key points to take away:

Buffy is canonically a multi-universe property so the world we’re shown by official licensed sources see isn’t the only one that exists. I didn’t say this in the section, but in this way, all fanfic is canon, because each exists in a different universe

If canon is not sacred in the world of reboots, then what they try to sell us as canon is debatable, negligible, and ultimately fine to just not acknowledge

Official canon doesn’t really matter all that much when you can pick your own, which you can and should

I hope this helps my fellow Spuffys and anyone else who is struggling with the news. My siblings in beyond just not normal. Your feelings, even if you have trouble explaining or understanding them, are valid. You’re not silly. It’s never silly to be upset about news that impacts something important to you. And there’s still so much we don’t know, so speculation abounds, but whatever comes of this, I hope you find some comfort in the freedom of being able to do exactly what the for-profit storytellers do all the time and just fucking ignore what doesn’t suit them.

In the meantime, Elysian Fields Archive will remain a Spuffy exclusive safe space, and I imagine will be home to a shitload of fix-its if the pilot gets picked up, so you’re free to join us there.

Until then, be good to yourself, and to somebody else.

[nonightingalesinberkelysquare]

WARNING FOR GOOD OMENS SPOILERS!!!!

FURTHER SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING BOOKS: The Bone Clock by David Mitchell, You Only Call When You're In Trouble by Stephen Mcauley, and Bibliomaniac by Robin Ince.

So I'm sure a lot of the fandom have seen the pictures posted by a very lucky fan who saw the production of good omens happening out in Scotland today!!

However what I'm not seeing people talk about is a hidden gem in the reblogs.

SOMEONE HAD MANAGED TO GET A PICTURE OF THE BOOKS IN THE WINDOW!!!

Naturally, I had to go and do my research to see if these books give us any clues or serve any other purposes other than decorative purposes

AND LET ME TELL YOU

These are the the books visible in the window:

I'll go through them one by one

(Please bear in mind, I haven't read any of these books personally!! The only information I have on them are the little bits I found online in a very rushed attempt at research!!!)

Okay firstly

"The Bone Clocks" by David Mitchell

Now, this is the one that I struggled to make sense of the most out of the three.

The story appears to follow a runaway teenage girl who is a "lightning rod for psychic phenomena." These visions are said to reorder reality and send her into a real life nightmare.

However,

It also states that there is a boy who eventually crosses paths with her and who's story "comes together in moments of grace and extraordinary wonder"

As I said, I've never read these books and the only link I could begin to make with this is the idea of a "supernatural being meets another supernatural being and what they can do when they're together defies anyone's wildest dreams" story, similar to what we have seen and could see in GO3.

The next book is where it gets FARRRR more interesting (in my opinion)

NOW

THE TITLE? INTERESTING ASF.

IS AZIRAPHALE IN TROUBLE? OR EVEN CROWLEY?

The quotes are literally taken from the amazon listing itself, but I'll just point out the bits that stuck out to me personally.

☆ "is it ever okay to stop caring for others and start living for yourself?"

And I'm skipping a HUUUUGE chunk of the story here so apologies

☆ "Tom does what he's always done - answers the call."

☆ "Thus begins a journey that will change everyone's life and demonstrate the beauty or dysfunction (or both?) of the ties that bind families together and sometimes strangle them."

THAT LAST QUOTE REALLY STICKS OUT TO ME. Personally, I'd say that could possibly relate to the heaven and hell divides?

But furthermore, we were told prior to the whole NG situation that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking.. so could that mean that as soon as they begin speaking once again, they have the power to leave heaven and hell behind? Perhaps stop the divides?

And last, but certainly not least

Now, keep in mind that this particular book is nonfiction and appears to be written from the authors own point of view as he aims to visit 100 bookshops in 100 days.

This has a relatively short description from what I can see right now so I'll put it in here

"Bibliomaniac takes the reader on a journey across Britain as Robin explores his lifelong love of bookshops and books - and also tries to find out just why he can never have enough of them.

It is the story of an addiction and a romance, and also of an occasional points failure."

This one interested me SO much because it SCREAMS Aziraphale character development sort of thing? You know?

I really struggled to find any spoilers for this one whatsoever but one website did mention the author's love for vintage books, which he only ever reads as and when, as opposed to focusing on just one book.

I just thought this was SO SO SOOOOO interesting, and if anybody has any differing thoughts/interpretations or has even read the books, the comment section is a safe space to do so!!! All theories/suggestions are welcomed (any hate WILL be blocked, don't test me).

OR MAYBE THIS ALL MEANS NOTHING AND IM JUST CLOWNING FAR TOO HARD?!??!??!

[ezrasxfics]

abstragedy fic where caine figures out zooble likes gangle and keeps pestering them about it? (like a parent would react to their child getting their first crush lmao) /nf :3

i’ve never been prouder…

-

abstragedy (ft caine)

-

zooble pov

it’s just another day in the circus, and by that i mean, another day of being surrounded by total DIPSH*TS. jax.. bubble.. and probably the biggest of them all, caine. hell, he’s harassing me right now. absolutely f*cking relentlessly.

“oh, zooooblee~!” he calls out, floating down the hallways in an attempt to find me. by now, everyone else had left for an adventure. i stay completely silent, praying that he doesn’t fine me. until—

he’s right in front of me.

“what do you want!?” i snap, maybe a little more aggressively than i meant to. it was just.. something about him. something that aggravated me to no end. that loud voice, that ‘can-do’ attitude.. it reminded me of someone, and i couldn’t put my finger on who.

“oh, zooble, i just wanted to talk to you!! have a little chat.. because i’ve noticed that you and gangle have been quite friendly recently - almost like.. what do humans call it.. you’re ‘down bad’ for each other!”

“….WHAT!? where the hell did you get that idea-!?” i stammer, unable to deny that he was absolutely right. but his wording..? “and don’t say ‘down bad’ again. my god…”

caine stares at me blankly for a few seconds, as if he’s buffering, before cocking his head to the side. “isn’t that what you are? when two humans love each other—“

“okay- okay, shut up- no- don’t finish that f**king sentence. we’re just friends, okay?? that’s it.” raising both my hands defensively, i take a small step back. “we’re just close friends, okay??”

“i hate to accuse you of lying, zooble, but that can’t be true! the way you look at each other, the way your voice deepens a little and hers gets higher when you talk to each other, the way your pupils dilate, it’s all key symptoms of human love!”

“…symptoms? love, or whatever, isn’t a disease—“

“moving onnnnn- i’ve developed a foolproof 5 step plan on how you two can finally admit your feelings to each other!!” he says, a wide smile on his face. or.. his teeth. how can teeth even—? whatever.

“no.” i say simply, folding my arms as if to display my disapproval. “no f**king way.”

“so, firstly, i’ll set you two up on a special adventu-“ he cuts himself off, before continuing. “what do you mean, no? you haven’t even heard my plan, zooble!”

“i don’t need to. caine, you’re an ai. you don’t understand.. feelings. they’re more complicated than just statistics and predictions and plans, you just.. nevermind. forget i said anything.”

“okay!!” he replies, but his energy faltered slightly. i almost felt.. bad for him.

“..fine. tell me the damn plan. no promises, though.” i mutter, after a small hesitation. he may be an ai, but i know that even caine has.. basic feelings. i wouldn't want to be an a** and hurt him.

almost immediately, that spark of joy in him returned as he began to relay the plan. “so, zooble, firstly, you’re going to go on a special adventure for just the two of you. then, she’s going to end up in some sort of.. sticky situation. and you’re going to save her!! once you’ve saved her, you’ll say a little speech you prepared.. and happily ever after!!!!”

“……that’s only four steps.” i say, entirely dumbfounded. he couldnt seriously expect me to go through with THAT, right?? then again, it’s caine we’re talking about…

“happily ever after is step 5!! so, what d’you say, zooble? i worked very hard on it, it would be a shame for my plan to go to waste-“

“FINE— fine, i’ll f**king do it. if you leave me the hell alone.”

“done deal!!!” he sighs, clasping his hands and bringing them to the side of his face. “i’ve never been so proud..”

-

thanks for the request!! i had a lot of fun writing this!!!

reblogs appreciated!!

[paingoes]

Crash Out - Love

(Content: fever, drug mention, bruises, discussions of past abuse, guilt)

He was in and out of sleep for a long time. He remained supervised. They didn’t trust him with as much rope as he could hang himself with. 

Vi had lied to him, essentially. Paris was a prisoner just as long as he was here. But, as she reminded him frequently, he could leave at any time. They’d give him his sword back at the door. They’d take it away at the next base they crashed into. 

Lorelai was in her element, though. She was one of them now, clear as day. There was a little medallion around her neck, the gold markings which he recognized as distinctly imperial.

“Did you scavenge that off a corpse?” he asked.

He had meant it as a joke.

He got the distinct sense that he had killed something beautiful. Like setting a butterfly on fire. Had she been changing all this time?

And yet she didn’t leave him. She changed all the time, but that didn’t. Over the border was still the goalpost. CTRL sheltered them at most stops. She’s their own now, of course she can stay. He offered what he could — intel when he had it, labor when he didn’t, when his body allowed him to. Sometimes he merely slept, looking sheepishly at the night guard for the time they were both wasting.

The border was a stone’s throw away and she wanted to make one last stop. 

He indulged her. He had to. And it was good for him too, to see the last stop before leaving Empire. Some kind of closure. One last goodbye.

It was a tundra. The frozen kind, though some stages were now in thaw. It was painfully beautiful. 

She had an eye for it more than he did. He’d have followed her up into the mountains and along the frozen stream, walked the whole length of tundra ten time over. Anything. Lorelai pulled winter weeds out from the ground to press into the journal she still carried. Small, living things dashed across the dead-land. Foxes and rabbits. Owls and swans. Living things, not so unlike them. Hot blood flowed through all of them, proof they still existed. Alive.

It was her idea to break into the cabin, which to him did not seem very altruistic, but he had no better ideas. Luckily enough, it was empty, seemingly abandoned for a time. They’d get better use of it.

Only in the middle of the night, when they were already tangled in between each other’s limbs, did he realize the fever was upon him.

A real one, this time. Not induced, not even dopesick. An honest to god fever.

Paris stood up blearily, feeling some of the heat recede when he’d detached from her body, but not much. It was still bright outside, something to do with the equinox. The sky was an odd, soft color. It was freezing out, which felt nice against his flushed skin. Lorelai groaned slightly from the bed. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself before she shuffled over to the door. At that point, he’d already stepped out.

Paris was on his knees in the snow. He pressed some of it to his face, still appreciating the contrast between the cold and the burning. It felt nice. It was strange, the things that felt nice to him now. As the last dregs of the drugs cycled out from his body, he found pleasures unmuted in their absence.

“You okay?” she called from the doorway. She was barefoot by the entrance, where the carpet was still warm.

He nodded, though he probably wasn’t. The fever was cooking his brain. 

The blanket hung off her bare shoulder. He hadn’t seen it as well in the dark, but the bruises marked her skin just as much as the love bites. She’d been busy. She’d been through a lot.

“I’m sorry for dragging you out here,” he blurted out. He’d been meaning to say it for a while. 

“What?” She blinked. “I wanted to come. This was my idea.”

“But you didn’t know what you were getting into. I didn’t tell you anything. It was taking advantage.”

“Did you know?”

He shook his head

“I knew it would be bad. I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“It’s my ship,” she said, the same way she ended all her arguments. “I could leave anytime I wanted. Why are you always trying to get rid of me?”

He desperately did not want to be rid of her. 

“I don’t understand you.” he said. He couldn’t fathom the thought of anyone staying with him by choice. If he could’ve left himself behind, he would’ve. He’d have done it in a heartbeat.

“What part don’t you get?” she asked. It tickled him how annoyed she sounded then. Like her clarity was being taken for granted. 

Then, as if reading his mind: “You give yourself way too much credit. I wanted this too.”

“This?” he laughed.

“Not all of it. I never wanted you to get hurt, Paris. I just wanted us to get out. I didn’t know how hard it would fight to keep you.”

A pause. She said:

“I had fun, though. Is that horrible to say? I had fun. I don’t regret it.”

He wondered if he regretted it. Really, he regretted everything.

When he didn’t answer for a while, she sat down on the wooden steps. The blanket shielded her from the cold contact. She lit up a cigarette, holding it delicately between her lips.

Another pause. He said:

“…You know I couldn’t have let him go, right?”

If she was surprised by the change in topic, she didn’t show it. He suspected she wasn’t shocked at all. Delta was on the cusp of his thoughts, all the time.  Everything lead back to him. Lorelai raised one eyebrow at the new proclamation.

“I couldn’t just let him go,” Paris said, because he had been thinking a lot about it. “He was too dangerous. Nobody would ever let that kind of power live in peace. He would have always be wanted, always somebody’s captive. He never could have had a happy life. It’s not his fault. He didn’t do anything to deserve it. But its true. There was never any hope for him. The kindest thing to do would have been to kill him.”

He didn’t mean to say that last part. Because he had killed Delta — and it had not felt kind. The ice felt colder beneath him as he went on.

“I know I didn’t have to treat him the way I did. I’m not saying anything about that. But yeah. I never could’ve let him go.”

Clearly.

“I don’t know. That’s beside the point, now.”

She barely reacted. He thought she might argue. Maybe he wanted her to. Maybe she saw another way out, some path that he didn’t. If he could do it all over, what would he change? Or would he always end up here — and Delta, dead on the ocean floor?

“Why did you treat him like that?” Lorelai asked, leaning forward slightly onto her knees. “…You didn’t have to.”

It felt like being stabbed. But it was a miracle he’d even avoided the question for this long. She’d been patient with him, endlessly. He could afford to be honest. The fever would make it so, regardless.

“I was so angry,” he admitted.

“All the time. At everything. I couldn’t stand it. I hated my life and I hated myself. I still hate myself. The only reason I had to live was to try to keep empire running — and I didn’t even want that. It felt like the whole place was fucking diseased. There was this rot at the center of the machine. He was just the worst of all of it, the worst thing it had ever created. It wasn’t his fault. I know that, it wasn’t his fault.”

“They told me I needed to. It’s his conditioning. He needed to feel powerless, all the time, or he would stop working. I was fucking terrified of what would happen if I lost control of him, if I lost the only edge I had. I was scared of him. And I needed him.”

“I hated needing. I hated feeling like I was losing control. And that’s all I was doing, the entire time. Just losing control, constantly. Over everything. Over myself.”

“It just became a habit, after a while. It started with just…punishment. Then it was just because he was there. Because I could.”

He was acutely aware of how cruel the word punishment sounded in his mouth. He was aware of how absurd it was, without any of the false authority he’d once put behind it. Who had he thought that he was? He’d never had the right.

He forced himself to look up at her, scared as he was of what he’d find. The scars of his body ached in the cold.

“I’m sorry, Lorelai. For everything.

I wish I could take it back.”

~~~~~~~

this is effectively the final chapter of Crash Out

paris and lorelai will return in Destroyer

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @whump-queen @sir-fenris

[angelsdean]

hot take maybe but actually i do expect my mom to comfort me and make me an ice cream sundae when i’m sad even when i get to 40 and she’s 70. my grandma does that for her still. it’s not. limiting her. it’s not saying she only has to be my mommy. i have taken care of her too. it’s saying we love each other and want to take care of each other. mary struggling to be able to interact with grown up sam and dean was very very valid and understandable and i love her for it. she also could’ve maybe tried a little more anyway. they could’ve lent on each other. idk.

Yea i've said before that I think it's a bit outrageous the way people seem to think someone stops being a parent once their child reaches adulthood. Maybe it's a cultural thing, I don't know, but the whole idea of "once your kid turns 18 they're out the door and not your problem anymore" is so deeply flawed IMO. But yea I focus more on "debunking" the claim that Dean expects some sort of motherly coddling / babying from Mary because that seems to be the deancrit take I see the most with regards to this arc / the "i'm not just a mom" scene.

But for sure many people seem to have some weird ideas IMO about what it means to be a parent. Like I think you can feel for Mary and understand that parents can and are more than just parents, but also understand that they will never stop BEING a parent either. Their kids will always be their kids. It's why people always say being a parent is a full time job, not something to go into lightly, that you should be sure you actually want kids and understand that having them is a lifelong commitment etc etc. And having kids makes them become your priority, even when you want to be selfish you always have to try to put them first. Obviously that lessens as they grow up but like, if your adult child were injured or had some kind of health issue / challenges as a parent it's still your job to be there for them, to support them, to care for them. That doesn't just end at 18. It's why *I* know that even though I like the idea of kids I probably never will have any because it's so much responsibility and because those kids are always always going to come first, forever! That's kind of part of the parental "contract" IMO. And even when they're adults, a parent should still be the one person in the world your kid can turn to, rely on, seek comfort in.

And I understand these expectations are complicated in this particular narrative by the fact that Mary died young and is not equipped to be a mother to adults. I think that's such a delicious component that I wish they leaned into more. She is grieving her babies. She is allowed to feel those feelings and feel confused and unsure and struggle with accepting this new dynamic with her children. But a big part of Mary's arc in s12, which culminates in 12x22 with "I need you to see me" is that she is the one stuck in the past, needing to accept her reality and "SEE" her children for who they are now. That's what the arc is moving towards, that acceptance. And after s12 we see her and Dean have a better relationship. We see her still getting to be Mary the person AND Mary the "mom." She hunts, she comes and goes, but she's someone Dean can talk to, share a meal with, spend time together. It's what he always wanted most. He tells her in 14x11 that "just knowing you're around, that you're alive has meant everything to me."

Anyways, I won't ramble about all that again because I've made a bunch of posts about it already. But yes, I think it's normal for Dean (and Sam) to want Mary to comfort them, do nice things for them, the way any parent or really a family member in general might do. They are not asking for kisses on their boo-boos and getting tucked into bed with a bedtime story, which is how a lot of deancrit posts read. What they want is some sort of familial reciprocal care. Like the way Dean spends quality time with those he loves. The way he baked a cake for Jack. Cooks for his family. The way he gives people gifts. The way he fixes Cas's truck. The way he calls to check in on people. He doesn't do these things out of some obligation or playing some "role", he does them because he cares. Because he loves his family, and that's just what family does for each other.

Someone in my tags last night said it very well that what Dean really wanted was just, another family member, to spend time with, to share their joys and burdens with. Someone like Bobby, that he could turn to if he needed. Bobby was a parent figure but he wasn't "parenting" them, y'know? He was someone Dean could lean on, but he didn't expect Bobby to shoulder all his burdens. And I think that's what Dean wants most. Just someone he can lean on and rely on, since he's been having to be the strong one for everyone his whole life.

[yorit1]

Glinda could not believe she was working with the goddess Elphaba. She had a massive crush on Elphaba and wanted to get closer to her, but it was hard to approach her and tell her she liked her.

Glinda knew that Elphaba was bisexual, as she had a bi-flag in her office's cup holder. She needed a way to open up to her.

Glinda was so lost in thought that she ignored where she was walking. She ran into someone and spit her coffee all over them.

“I’m so sorry. That was my bad. I hope you forgive m…” Glinda started saying but was cut off when she noticed it was Elphaba.

“Wow, if you wanted me that badly, you could have just asked me out,” Elphaba said.

“What. I. What do you mean?” Glinda asked.

“I was just saying there are easier ways to get my attention,” Elphaba said.

“I’m sorry. Let me pay for your dry cleaning. That suit looks expensive,” Glinda babbled.

“Glinda, will you go out with me?” Elphaba asked.

“Reall, do you want to go out with me even though I spilt my coffee all over you?” Glinda asked.

“I think you’re cute in your pink suits and dresses. I noticed you and thought I would talk to you, but then you spilt your coffee all over me,” Elphaba said.

“Elphie. I mean Elphaba I would love to go out with you,” Glinda said.

“Elphie I like that. Also coffee shop my treat. We have an hour break now and I would love to get to know you. Let me just get changed.” Elphaba said.

Glinda could not believe that Elphaba had noticed her and thought that she was cute. That Elphaba loved her pink suits and dresses. Glinda loved the color pink like Elphaba loved the color black. Today was turning out to be a better day than Glinda had hoped.

“Ready to go?” Elphaba asked having changed her clothes.

“Yea that sounds great,” Glinda said excitedly.

Glinda and Elphaba walk to the cafe that is across the street from their office. Glinda loved the coffee there. It was perfect. She especially loved the cinamon swirl latte.

Glinda and Elphaba sat down at a table waiting for a waitress to come and serve them.

“What would you like?” Elphaba asked Glinda.

“I would love a cinnamon swirl latte and the pancakes,” Glinda said.

“Oh that sounds sweet just like you,” Elphaba said.

The waitress came over to take their order.

“Cinnamon latte and pancakes foe her, and waffles and chai latte for me,” Elphaba said.

The waitress left to place their order in the kitchen.

“So Glinda what do you like to do in your free time when you aren’t at work? Work is pretty hard like fuck the capitalist system,” Elphaba said.

“I love fashion, and giving people makeovers, my goal in life is for everyone to be liked,” Glinda said.

“That’s very noble of you. I think there is good in a lot of people but some people don’t want to be saved,” Elphaba said. “But fashion is cool. I mostly wear black it compliments my skin.”

“Elphie I think you are beautiful no matter what you wear. You are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. I want us to be girlfriends and go on as many dates as we can. Seeing each other at work and after work,” Glinda said.

“That sounds good. I’d love to be a girlfriends. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I’d love to see you at work and after,” Elphaba said.

The waitress brought them their food, and Glinda and Elphaba dug into it.

“Want a taste of my pancakes?” Glinda asked.

“Yeah,” Elphaba said.

Glinda took the fork and placed it in front of Elphaba’s mouth. Elphaba opened her mouth and ate the pancake. Her tongue licked her lips. Glinda wanted those lips and that tongue against her mouth, kissing her.

Elphaba held a piece of her waffle out to Glinda, who opened her mouth and ate it.

“That’s delicious,” Glinda said.

Elphaba leaned over and kissed Glinda. The kiss tasted sweet, like the sweets they were currently eating. Glinda could not believe that Elphaba was kissing her. The kiss was magical and everything that Glinda wanted between her and Elphaba.

Elphaba leaned back and licked her lips.

“You taste delicious,” Elphaba said.

Glinda giggled happily. She could not believe that she was on a date with her dream woman, that Elphaba kissed her like that, and that Elphaba said it tasted good. Dreams do sometimes come true.

Soon, it was time to head back to the office.

“I’ll pay,” Elphaba said.

“I can pay too. I did spill my coffee on you,” Glinda said.

“I invited you, so I” 'll pay you can pay next time,” Elphaba said.

“There will be a next time?” Glinda asked.

“Definitely,” Elphaba said.

Glinda could not believe she would have another date with Elphaba they had a future, and Glinda could not be happier.

The next day, Glinda saw Elphaba in the office and walked up to Elphaba.

“Want to go out again today? Maybe a nice restaurant, my treat,” Glinda asked.

“That would be lovely. If we continue like this, as girlfriends, we must tell HR we are dating,” Elphaba said.

“You want to date me?” Glinda asked.

“Of course. You are the best woman I have ever met. You have a good heart and want the best for everyone. I would be honored to be your girlfriend,” Elphaba said.

“I would be happy to be your girlfriend, that is all my dreams come true,” Glinda said.

Glinda could not believe that she had a girlfriend, Elphaba. She would take Elphaba to a fancy restaurant to show her how much she appreciated her. Elphaba was the best thing that happened to Glinda. Spilling her coffee all over Elphaba was not such a bad thing. After all, it did give her the chance to be friends with Elphaba.

Glinda called a nice restaurant and made a lunch reservation for herself and Elphaba. She was looking forward to today. She could not believe she was dating her coworker, who was the perfect woman for her.

Work was not as bad after all. It brought her Elphaba, after all.

[jellybeanium124]

can't stop thinking about this version of them...

ed joining a local bunny owners facebook group and becoming online friends with stede, before eventually working up the nerve to tell stede that after all the funny and ridiculous stories he's shared about arthur, ed is dying to meet him. stede is very enthusiastic about the idea.

when ed shows up at stede's house the next day, everything seems more neat and tidy than it usually is in stede's pictures. stede himself seems far more pretty in person too. stede excitedly takes him to arthur's large x-pen where arthur is busy gnawing on the pen and pushing and pulling it with his teeth. he's so tiny it's really funny to see all this energy coming out of such a small creature.

when he looks up and sees ed, he runs to the back of his pen to a covered area with his bed, and watches them, on alert.

"sorry he's not very friendly..." stede says sadly.

"'s okay. I know the breed tend to be skittish," ed replies, sitting down next to the pen. stede sits down next to him and starts talking about the bunny shenanigans arthur's been up to today. ed responds in kind telling stede all about the cute and silly and naughty things daisy's been up to, and he shows stede a million pictures and videos on his phone.

arthur eventually comes out of his bed area and takes a drink at his water bowl. stede sticks his fingers into the pen and arthur goes over to him and lays his head down and stede pets his forehead. arthur melts a little at the pets.

"aww, he really likes you," ed says softly.

"it was quite a journey. poor little guy was rescued from a horrible breeder situation after there was a fire. he was incredibly distrustful of people, very nippy. the shelter I was at said they didn't know what they were going to do with him. so I took him home right then and there. I didn't know anything about rabbits. I'd gone there planning on getting a dog. I had to keep him in a crate for the first few nights before I got my hands on an x-pen and some proper bunny supplies. but, well, you learn fast when you introduce a 3-pound ball of fluff and rage into your home... but we got through it. getting him neutered once he was old enough did help a lot. and now... well, he's still standoffish and a bit of a criminal, but he's warmed up to life here. the first time I saw him binky, and then the first time I saw him flop over in front of me... I wouldn't trade those moments for anything."

"yeah... daisy wasn't a total hellbunny, luckily. and I had prep time. fang said she was surrendered by a family who realized they couldn't take care of a rabbit. apparently she was a birthday present for twin six-year-old girls--"

stede grimaced.

"yeah, I know, right? she freaked out a lot initially, but she's chilled out since. she prefers to laze around than cause chaos. I'll lay down on the floor and then she'll lay down on the floor by me and I'll pet her... that's really nice... she's so small and I'm so big... and other people have mistreated her in the past but she's always excited to see me, and she'll flop over and close her eyes and let me pet her and she knows I'll never hurt her--" ed got choked up all of a sudden and couldn't keep talking. he inhaled deeply and tried not to cry. stede put his hand on ed's shoulder.

"oh ed... of course she knows you'll never hurt her. you're so lovely and kind, and you take such good care of her. she knows she's safe with you."

this made ed let out a big sob. arthur froze initially and then leaned forward towards ed.

"oh, ed, no, I--" stede started, as ed started crying. "oh dear, I didn't mean to make you cry more! please stop, I, I'm sorry, I don't know what-- edward, please--"

ed tried to slow his breathing down, and came to realize that stede was holding him. he looked down, and saw arthur sticking his nose out of the x-pen at him.

ed slowly brought his fingers close to arthur's eyes, then his nose. he laid his head down, and ed pet him.

"wow..." stede whispered. "that's amazing... he's never warmed up to someone so fast. it took alma multiple visits of feeding him treats for him to let her pet him..."

ed gently stroked arthur from his nose to his forehead. "wow..."

"you're a bunny whisperer, ed."

"pfft. naw. he just wants to assert his dominance as the alpha bun around here. in case I ever come back."

"we'd love to have you back."

"me and daisy will have to have you over first."

"you think they'll get pissed when we come home smelling like different bunnies?"

ed snickered. "maybe. how dare we, really, come home smelling like another bunny. we're monsters."

"the worst kind," stede said, giggling with him.

"but hey... maybe one day they'll meet. and recognize that smell."

"and then they'll start fighting."

"maybe... or maybe they'll realize, 'hey this other bunny is really cool! maybe we could be friends!'"

"I wish! I feel so bad leaving arthur alone, but he seems like he likes being a solitary bun. I'd be worried about him rejecting all other rabbits."

"I feel bad leaving daisy alone too... I have a feeling she'd like a friend."

"maybe she would. maybe they could be friends."

"that'd be nice."

"real nice."

so modern au ed. his employee/buddy(?) fang volunteers at an animal rescue in his free time, and he's always talking about how they have too many animals, and not enough people who seriously want to foster or adopt. and after months of extremely subtly dropping hints to ed about animal companionship and the joys of pet ownership, ed agrees to visit the rescue and see if any of the animals speak to him.

he doesn't like dogs, well, it's not like that exactly. he's met fang's dogs before and they're lovely. he likes dogs when they belong to other people. but they tend to bark and shout at random intervals, and ed doesn't like the idea of a housemate whose favorite hobby is screaming. so he goes in there looking for a cat.

but none of the cats really speak to him. they're cute, sure, but... none of them catch his fancy. and then fang takes him to a room at the back of the rescue, filled with pens that have 1-3 rabbits in them.

in the smallest pen is a lone, tiny little white rabbit with black eyeliner, chewing on the metal bars. it stops and looks up at him.

"that's daisy," fang said. "we got a call about a white rabbit about a month ago and I went and got her. she's not been that friendly with the other rabbits, even though everyone here is spayed and neutered. hence her own little pen."

ed crouched down, and daisy stuck out her nose to sniff at him. "why's she got eyeliner?"

"she's a dwarf hotot. that's just how they look."

"wicked."

daisy hopped to her water bowl and had a drink.

"can I foster her?" ed asked, barely above a whisper.

"sure!"

fang gets ed some reading on bunnies and after about two weeks ed's built a space that he hopes will make daisy very, very happy.

daisy is nervous at first, in ed's home. fang's getting 10 calls a day asking if this or that behavior is normal. ed spends all the time he can with her. he stops working extra-long days because he feels bad leaving daisy alone. slowly, she starts to come out of her shell. she explores more around his house. he sees her binky for the first time, and then flop over for the first time and fully close her eyes. she nudges him for pets. she'll be lying in the corner of her pen and then immediately get up when ed comes home.

after about a month or two of fostering, ed asks if he can adopt her. fang, overjoyed, gives him a big hug, and says of course he can adopt her, fang couldn't think of a better person to adopt her.

maybe this even leads into him joining a bunny owners group, and meeting stede, a bitchy adorable man who owns a bitchy adorable netherland dwarf.

trying to get arthur and daisy to bond ends up being easier than expected...

[toomanyfish2]

les mis fic recs (enjoltaire)

as a musical theatre nerd and nerd in general, behold my exr recs.

The Icarus Experiment - Chapter 1 - stvrkey - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Grantaire's family is the largest collection of idiots he's ever seen exist in one place without succumbing to death by natural selection. They're ridiculous, chaotic, sad, furious, utterly codependent, and, er, they have wings. They're also imprisoned in a secret government facility that experiments on them for unknown (but Grantaire's gonna go ahead and say sinister) reasons. The revolution will not be civilised.

Chapters: 6/6 | Words: 192,710 | AU - Maximum Ride

2. too afraid to love you - Chapter 1 - kkingofthebeach - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

this is probably one of my two favourites - as a recovering addict myself it definitely tugged on the ol' heartstrings. accurate depiction of addiction.

Enjolras is a university dropout and Grantaire is an addict. Between them they like to think they’ve got enough misfit friends to make a difference in the world - or London at the very least - if hedonism doesn’t get the better of them.

Chapters: 31/34 | Words: 215,113

3. Under My Wings You Will Find Refuge - Chapter 1 - Fiver - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

"Let me come with you. It's not smart to go around fighting monsters on your own." "Almost all hunters work alone." "Doesn't make it any smarter." In which Enjolras is going to save the innocent masses from the things that go bump in the night, and Grantaire is definitely either a lot more or a lot less than he appears. Neither of them can quite decide which it is.

Chapters: 24/? | Words: 225,809 | AU - Supernatural

4. Evergreen - Chapter 1 - lyres - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

(Slightly coming-of-age-y college AU that will likely involve R walking into the wrong class in his first week, les Amis as editors of the student paper, an eventual nightly arrest, and a trip to Paris)

Chapters: 14/14 | Words: 160,415

5. these things take time - Chapter 1 - sonhoedesrazao - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

the other of my two favourites :)

He’s always wary of making assumptions; even more so when Grantaire is concerned. He knows he’s not the easiest person to deal with. People either like him or can’t stand him, and it’s easy to respond to those reactions, but Grantaire—Grantaire is hostile and mocking, Grantaire scorns his beliefs, and Grantaire stays.

Chapters: 10/10 | Words: 63,170

6. World Ain't Ready - Chapter 1 - idiopathicsmile - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

(High school AU. Grantaire the disaffected stoner is pulled into a cause bigger than himself. Or: in which there are pretend boyfriends for great justice.)

Chapters: 16/16 | Words: 185,795 | AU - Highschool

7. Lovesickness - idiopathicsmile - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Enjolras swallowed. "I didn't know he had tattoos on his back." "Yeah," said Joly, shrugging. "I mean, he lives with me and before about noon, he's allergic to shirts—" "Why—" said Enjolras weakly. "I always figured he had a bad shirt experience," Joly offered. "Shirts killed his family, or his first dog got hit by a truck full of shirts." Enjolras shook his head. His face was a little flushed. "Ooh, are you experiencing symptoms?" said Joly, brightening. "What's your pulse doing? Are you breathing normally? How do your glands feel?"

Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 11,017

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

Can you do the etymology of the Twisted Wonderland characters names ?

I could... However, there's actually a couple of lovely videos on Youtube by @yuurei20 that explains the etymology of the character and dorm names by translating the Official Fanbooks and giving some context, so I'd suggest watching those because I feel like I'd be rehashing a lot of stuff they said. If you need to find them on YT, the Youtube handle is YuuRei and the titles of the videos I'd suggest watching are "Twisted Wonderland Etymology: Character and Dorm Names" as well as "Twst Etymology: Cater's Name" I'm aware they don't cover all the names, like they don't cover Sebek, Silver, or Lilia, but these are good starting points to look at.

THAT SAID, I will point something out about Idia's name because Idia is my favorite character and this is not mentioned in their videos about Idia's name and a lot of people don't seem to mention this connection.

A lot of people point out Idia could be coming from the word Idea and that's where they think the name comes from because he's a maverick genius, but he is based on Hades, a Greek god with many different epithets.

Greek gods had different epithets that represented aspects they were worshipped under. An example of this is Athena Parthenos, which means Virgin Athena or Athena the Virgin. That particular epithet is what the Parthenon is named after.

Hades has an epithet that could be also where Idia's name came from. Hades Aidis. This means "Hades the Unseen" and it fits really well with Idia being a recluse who hides in his room and usually attends things via tablet. Given Idia's grandmother's name is Aidne, which appears to come from one of Hades other names/epithets, Hades Aïdonefs/Aidoneus, I really think the epithets and Greek myths played a big part in the Shroud names.

This would play into why my Yuu, who I based on Persephone, is called Kora. (If Disney will not give me much Hades and Persephone stuff, I will make my own). The name Cora/Kora comes from the Greek Kore, the name associated with Persephone before her abduction into the Underworld, that translates to "maiden" or "girl".

The reason I did Rook's nicknames rather than sending the person who asked me to YuuRei's video about Rook's nickname was because I was also giving a bit of my understanding on some of the nicknames as to WHY Rook gave those specific nicknames. Such as why Trey is not a Monsieur, but a Chevalier.

If you'd really like me to make a list over the etymology of the names with my personal takes on some of the names, I can, just send me another ask and I'll make the very long list, but heads up, that will take me some time. As in at least a couple of days up to a week's worth of time so I can do more research and stuff and write down all the connections for each characters. But for a starting off point, I really feel like those two videos I mentioned are really helpful for understanding the name etymology.

[a-bottle-of-tyelenol]

agere five hargreeves headcanons !!

— requested by @acpola01 —

— read part one here —

— cw: trauma and food issues

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

❤️ - five had a small collection of regression gear that he scavenged in the apocalypse and, much like he went back to find dolores, he spends a considerable amount of time trying to find the exact ones that he had originally. he’s very particular because he didn’t have a lot of stuff in the apocalypse and he isn’t used to being around people who can touch and take his things. his siblings try to get him more things and he always rejects it, though he does appreciate the thought.

❤️ - little five loves explaining things to other people. he’s a boy genius and does have a genuine interest in science and mathematics. his siblings don’t understand a single thing he’s saying half the time, but they think his excited baby babbles are really cute. luther is the only one that can follow him (in certain areas) and it surprises everyone else because no one expected him to be so knowledgeable about astrophysics. every so often, five does find an interest that the rest can properly engage with him in, but it’s usually super obscure things like his strangely specific love of transportation (it started with him liking race cars and building model planes with luther as a kid and turned into him studying the bodies of cars, boats, trains, and planes throughout the apocalypse. as someone who can teleport, he thinks regular forms of transportation are fascinating and he used to love traveling the world during the peak of his superhero career).

❤️ - he cries when something breaks or when he can’t use it anymore. like I said, he’s very attached to his things (there’s even a bowl of broken watches he collected canonically in his bedroom from his personal tests and training) and he hates having to replace anything. despite his irritation at having to redress in his old uniform, it’s so familiar and it’s his so he really struggles when he starts outgrowing them— to the point where he raids the academy storage rooms for any that might fit growth spurt and he ends up with ben’s old uniforms from before he died. five’s uniforms also make him feel younger so he has trouble throwing them out. he does enjoy sleeping in clothes taken from his siblings, though.

❤️ - he often has flashbacks to the apocalypse and, in the beginning, he’d force himself back into mindset of an assassin and refuse to let it shake him. after a while of being safe and at home, however, his body starts moving out of survival mode and it hits him all at once as his brain processes everything that’s happened to him. this means that there are a lot of times where he regresses during a flashback and cries until someone notices and comes to help him. more often than he’d like, that person was grace, leaving him to clutch onto her like he would when he was a baby while she coos and rocks him. grace doesn’t understand that he regresses, she merely does as her programming dictates and it dictates she takes care of her babies when they’re upset.

❤️ - he gets a service dog (mr. pennycrumb) who helps ground him during his moments of panic and is trained to help five with tasks, like reminding him that humans do, in fact, need to eat every so often (five is used to being hungry and he often forgets to handle his basic needs when he’s too invested in something else). little five loves playing with his dog and the two of them are inseparable. he likes having mr. pennycrumb sit beside dolores so he can play teacher. more than once, his siblings have walked in on him having a VERY serious lecture about the atomic structure of different elements while being no older than six years old.

[tiredgeekgirl]

fellas it has been three months since the beach episode and thinking about neil and eva in any capacity still makes me ILL

[lucydacusgirl]

It was quite worrying walking down the main shopping streets of my city during pride and seeing that barely any of them have any pride flags or anything in the window. Rainbow capitalism will not save us but it is so unnerving when even last year most shops had some kind of bunting in the window and this year it was only three or four. Like idk it feels emblematic of a worsening or idk souring attitude towards queer people that is definitely influenced by rampant transphobia in the uk. Which is why it’s so upsetting when cis queer people join in on transphobia in hopes of distancing themselves from the current social and political undesirability of transness.