#there' something missing in the chemistry

[littlelamy]

Hii! I love your writing. Do you think you could write one where Rafe is a single father of a 4-year-old son and he meets a reader, and then they start a relationship and she meets his son and well, they start being a family? I'd love something like that, thank youuuuu

lamy's note: sorry that this is so late! i hope you like it <3

rafe cameron’s life revolved around his four-year-old son, oliver. The little boy was his entire world, a bright spot in the sometimes chaotic life of a single father. mornings were a blur of packing lunches and tying shoelaces, evenings a mix of storytime and sleepy cuddles. it was a rhythm rafe had gotten used to, even if it left little time for himself.

one rainy afternoon, rafe and oliver ducked into a cozy little café to escape the downpour. oliver clutched his favorite dinosaur toy, his small hand wrapped tightly around rafe's fingers. the warm atmosphere welcomed them, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around them like a comforting hug. they found a table near the window, where oliver could watch the raindrops race down the glass.

as rafe settled into his seat, his eyes drifted across the room and landed on you. you were seated a few tables away, engrossed in a book, your fingers playing absently with your hair. there was something about you—maybe the peaceful way you seemed lost in your own world—that caught his attention. it had been a long time since he had felt that pull, the quiet intrigue of wanting to know someone.

oliver’s voice pulled him back. "daddy, can I have a cookie?"

"after lunch, buddy," rafe replied, ruffling his son’s hair. "let’s get something to eat first."

when the barista brought their sandwiches and a small cookie for oliver, rafe took the chance to glance your way again. to his surprise, you were looking back, a soft smile on your lips. it was enough to stir something inside him, a quiet encouragement to make a move he hadn’t considered in a long while.

gathering his nerve, rafe stood and walked over to your table, oliver trailing behind him. “hi,” he said, his voice warm but a bit unsure. “do you mind if we sit here? my son has a lot to say about dinosaurs, and i’d love a little adult conversation.”

your smile widened as you nodded. “of course. I could use some dinosaur facts myself.”

as rafe and oliver settled into seats across from you, the conversation flowed easily. rafe learned that you were new in town, working as a teacher at the local elementary school. you asked about his work and how he managed to juggle everything as a single parent. there was a natural chemistry, an ease in the way you spoke, the laughter that bubbled up between shared stories.

oliver, ever the chatterbox, quickly took a liking to you. he proudly showed off his toy, launching into an animated explanation of why the t-rex was the king of dinosaurs. you listened with genuine interest, your enthusiasm making oliver beam with pride.

by the time the rain had stopped, it felt as though you’d known each other much longer than just a single afternoon. before you left, rafe asked for your number, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “maybe we could do this again sometime? without the rain.”

you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect.

in the weeks that followed, the two of you saw more of each other. rafe would pick you up after work, oliver bouncing in the back seat, eager to share his day. dinners turned into outings at the park, where oliver’s giggles echoed through the playground, rafe's hand finding yours as you watched him play. the three of you fit together seamlessly, like a puzzle you hadn’t known was missing a piece.

one evening, after oliver had been tucked into bed, rafe invited you to stay for a late-night movie. the living room was cozy, the soft glow of the tv casting shadows on the walls. you sat close, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, the quiet intimacy of the moment stretching between you.

when the movie ended, neither of you moved, the silence filled with unspoken words. rafe turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "i've really missed this," he said softly. "having someone to share my life with. i'm glad it's with you"

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "me too."

the kiss that followed was tender, a slow, gentle meeting of lips that spoke of more than just attraction—it was a promise of what could be. as you leaned into him, the weight of loneliness lifted, replaced by the warmth of a growing love.

in the months that followed, you became a part of their lives in every way. weekends were spent building blanket forts with oliver, evenings filled with quiet moments on the couch, your laughter mingling with rafe’s as you recounted the day’s events.

the day oliver called you "mommy" for the first time, your heart swelled with emotion. rafe squeezed your hand, his eyes shining with gratitude and love.

you were no longer just a visitor in their lives. you were family, a bond formed through shared moments, love, and the quiet understanding that together, you had built something beautiful.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[meowerswowzers97]

Hi! Could I request a Daryl x Female Reader set in Season 2. Where the reader is Ricks younger sister (she's like two - three years younger than him) and gets confronted by a jealous Shane after seeing how worried she got over Daryl being injured and shot. Like Shane's had feelings for the Reader for years but she has just never felt the same way towards him. And seeing her be friendly to Daryl since he first arrived at the Atlanta Camp and watching the chemistry between them grow overtime has got his blood boiling.

Maybe Daryl over hears the conversation and steps in when Shane roughly grabs reader and causes a fight to where Rick has to step in and break it up. And some fluff between Reader at Daryl afterwards.

Jealousy

Summary- Shane likes the reader, but sees that she’s way too friendly to Daryl. When Shane does something, Daryl steps in.

Warnings- kissing?? Other than that none really.

Theme- fluff

You were Ricks Younger sister, after finding out he got shot, you were pretty depressed. You couldn’t lose your brother. You were with Lori, Carl, and Shane at the Atlanta camp. You met someone apart of the group.

Daryl.

You grew close to Daryl a bit after you guys were in the forest together, you brung up how your brother, Rick, got shot and is probably dead. Daryl wasn’t a huge talker about his past, but he trusted you enough too talk about some stuff, he brung up his mothers death, and he didn’t say much after that. It was understandable, you didn’t bring up Rick that much to anyone. But since you had a major crush on Daryl, yeah, you told him. You guys suddenly grew closer, building a bond. You guys always sat next together durning dinner, always went on runs, and always told jokes to each other.

After you reunited with Rick, Daryl was pretty pissed at you. Thinking you used Rick as a lie to get to know his past.

“ya just lied to me about yer brother!”

“Daryl I thought he was dead!”

“Idiot. God I wish I never met ya”

You haven’t talked since then since the incident. You tried to talk but it was always a grunt in return.

After the cdc, Sophia ran away and went missing, then Carl got shot. The group was making plans about looking for Sophia. Daryl offered to go. 

Later you were currently talking to Maggie 

Maggie: “so, do you like anybody??” Maggie said with a smile

You barley knew Maggie, but you trusted her

Y/n: “yk, kinda-“

You then heard a gunshot go off, and the word “No!” Being yelled.

“Was Rick injured? Did he get shot again?” And many other thoughts when through your mind.

You ran outside to see what was going on.

Your heart skipped a beat, you sat there, wanting to let out a cry and start sobbing.

Daryl, carried by Rick and Shane. Injured and bloody.

You quickly ran over to them. 

Y/n: “is he okay?! Is he dead?! Please tell me he’s alive! What happened?!”

Shane tried to interrupt 

Shane: “y/n-“

Y/n: “WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?!”

After finding out he was okay, you let out a sigh of relief. Even if Daryl hated you, you loved him as much as Rick. You couldn’t lose Daryl.

Hershel came out to say that Daryl was okay, as you quickly ran it, Shane gave you a confused look.

Y/n: “Daryl!”

Daryl: “I’m fine woman, just leave me alone.”

You were pretty stunned, but you slowly nodded and walked out.

You sat on the steps of Hershel’s house. Thinking about Daryl.

Shane took a seat next to you.

Ever since Rick became friends when Shane, Shane’s always said he’s liked you, and has flirted with you many times. You always told him you weren’t interested, but he never tried stopping.

Shane: “you okay”

Y/n: “just thinking”

Shane: “about what”

Y/n: “nothing”

A quick moment of silence passed.

Shane: “what’s going one between you and Daryl?”

You almost blushed, but you gave him a confused look. Why would he care?

Y/n: “wdym?”

Shane: “y/n out of every guy you’ve met the most I’ve seen you care about is Daryl, now what’s going on between you guys?”

Y/n: “Shane why does it matter?”

Shane: “y/n just answer me”

Y/n: “no, Shane, why are you so concerned?”

Shane: “because you know y/n I think you like him”

Y/n: “oh so what this is about me liking him? I can like anyone I want Shane, I already told ya I’m not interested in you”

You started to get up to go inside, wanting to speak to Daryl.

Suddenly, Shane grabbed you and pinned you againt a wall.

Y/n: “Shan-“

Shane: “shut up”

Y/n: “shane get off me”

You were suddenly slapped. You held your cheek about to burst into tears

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Shane was thrown to the floor, someone was straddling him.

Daryl.

Y/n: “Daryl-“

Suddenly a fight between the two happened. Punches were thrown, kicks, Shane had a bloody face and Daryl had a bloody nose. Daryl was trying to get injured all over again.

You then saw your brother, Rick, grab the two and yelled at them

Rick: “Break it up!”

Daryl: “tell him to get his hands off my girl!”

Y/n: “wait what-“

Shane tried to protest but was stopped by a look from Rick. He then shut up and walked away. Rick then followed him. You heard Rick in the other room yell at him

Y/n: “Daryl-“

Daryl: “your sleepien in my tent tonight���

Y/n: “but-“

Daryl: “end of discussion”

Later after having food, you didn’t talk to Shane once. 

When it was time to go to bed, Daryl gestured for you come with him into the tent. You followed.

It felt awkward being in the same tent with your crush, even though he literally hates you.

You both slept to where you weren’t facing each other, back facing back, you rolled over to look at him, you can tell he wasn’t asleep.

Y/n: “Daryl” you said softly 

Daryl: “what”

Y/n: “what did you mean by ‘my girl’ earlier?”

A moment of silence passed.

Daryl: “I…”

Y/n: “you like me don’t you?”

He didn’t say anything else, which meant he had to mean yes.

Y/n: “look at me”

He rolled over and looked at you. You cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. His eyes widened, but he eventually started kissing back.

Y/n: “I like you too idiot” you said against his lips.

Daryl made a guilty face

Y/n: “what’s with the face?”

Daryl: “I’m sorry about earlier, I know you’ve known Shane for awhile, I didn’t mean to ruin your guys relationship”

Y/n: “Daryl Dixon if it weren’t for you who knows what would’ve happened, I’m so grateful that you were there, I don’t ever want you to regret about what happened earlier”

Daryl smiled, then it turned into a smirk.

Y/n: “what’s with the smirk?”

Daryl: “I’ve been ignoring ya because I like ya, I just didn’t wanna talk to ya”

You pushed his chest playfully and started laughing.

Y/n: “Daryl”

Daryl: “Ye”

Y/n: “are we dating”

Daryl: “want too?”

Y/n: “please”

Daryl: “okay well im tired”

Y/n: “can we cuddle”

Daryl: “no”

A minute later, he cuddled you in your sleep.

You smilied, thankful to be in his arms.

(This is my first imagine! Sorry it’s so bad! When I start to write more I think I’ll get better at writing!! I’m sorry!!)

[vacz]

"Who are you looking at?" Bad End Friends (Comic)

I've spent all day trying to finish this comic! AHHHHH

So I present you an idea of a ship... Hunter x Ice Finn

"Why?" Well, if we think in the fact that in Adventure time's multiverse all the versions of Finn always ends up having a romantic relationship with a version of Huntress Wizard, and we take Bad End Friends as a canon alternative timeline where Finn didn't destroy Ice Finn's crown and so he later joined Bipper, how would Farmworld!Finn ends up with his version of Huntress Wizard as Ice Finn? Well the answer is simple: He doesn't end up with directly another version of her but someone who is similar to her... And guess who is more similar to Huntress Wizard?

That's right! Hun- Beast Wirt. I personally think Beast Wirt has actually more similarities with her since they both are like spirits of the forest who almost have the same personality, HOWEVER, I think Hunter and Ice Finn would have more CHEMISTRY and let me explain why:

They both are insane, they MATCH THEIR FREAK.

Ice Finn wouldn't be weird out for Hunter's appearance at all, like he did with the Lich, so Ice Finn would judge him according to his action and god- he gets it, At first he would hate him because Hunter is literally chopping people! But after getting an explanation of why he does this, Ice Finn would sympathize with the feeling of "wanting to protect your family" and want to help Hunter with his brother. Ice Finn proposed to Wirt the chance to save lives without having to change that much, and Hunter couldn't resist it, he could finally do something good for humanity! Maybe he could even redeem himself!

IT'S A KING AND KNIGHT DYNAMIC WITH SOME TONES OF PANTHERS IN CRIME

Hunter would watch around for people, and if he finds them then he should bring them to Ice Finn so he could freeze them. However, most of the time he spent it around Ice Finn himself, sometimes helping him with spells or other stuff like cooking, and other times just hanging around together. Their relationship is more equal than it seems, Hunter is just as enthusiastic as Ice Finn in saving lifes the way they do, Ice Finn constant joy and quick reactions are like fresh air for Hunter, who misses some real emotion in life, while Ice Finn has someone who actually cares about his safety and it's not manipulating him for his own selfish desires. Hunter loves Ice Finn's madness because it is a constant of movement, life and joy! While Finn isn't weird out at all by Hunter's more creepier madness, and actually finds him pretty cool and charming. They both don't judge each other and they are openly crazy together

Hunter is normally submissive, and has a craving for love to the point that he could fall really HARD for someone who shows him affection, of course Hunter would be protective and very jealous if someone tries something with Ice Finn, he thinks Finn as one of his more precious properties so Hunter would not let go this guy. Ice Finn is not innocent either, he was the one who kidnapped Hunter in the first place, Ice Finn makes him sleep on a cage even, you can say he also sees Hunter as a pet, one he loves so much but a thing at least...

However, even if they have these things that for normal people would be very toxic, for them is living a romance, a strange and delusional romance, where both souls lost deep in madness find each other to be their own guide though the black ocean of insanity

So tell me your opinion, I hope you guys like it! ^^

[meazalykov]

eyes on the right

lynn wilms x reader series

last chapter - next chapter

chapter three

being back in your home country feels like a deep breath after a long stretch of holding it in. 

there’s something comforting about seeing familiar faces, hearing familiar voices, and knowing that, for a few days, you can just be yourself without any pressure.

no wolfsburg, no past club drama with arsenal, no jonas. 

just you and your national teammates.  

training had been good today…light drills, laughs with the girls, and anticipation for the upcoming friendlies against south korea and china. it felt refreshing to be part of a team where the chemistry clicked so naturally. 

no one was trying to prove themselves too hard since they’re already here. the olympics ended already. everyone just wanted to play.  

after training, you find a quiet spot on the grass, letting the sun soak into your skin as it edges toward golden hour. you sit with your knees up, teeth gently nibbling on the plastic of your water bottle, scrolling through tiktok absentmindedly. 

the warmth of the evening settles around you, soft and calming.  

“mind if i join?”  

you look up to see emily standing above you, her cheeks pink from exertion. you grin and pat the grass beside you. 

“of course not.”  

emily plops down with a groan, stretching her legs out in front of her. 

“how was training?”  

you lock your phone and place it on the grass beside you. 

“it was fine, i believe. you?”  

she leans her head on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. 

“i’m tired, honestly.”  

you chuckle, leaning your head lightly against hers. 

“same.”  

the moment is quiet and peaceful, the kind of moment you don’t realize you need until you’re in it. then, your phone buzzes on the grass, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. 

the name makes your stomach flutter.  

“vivianne?” emily asks, glancing at your phone.  

you nod, quickly swiping to answer. 

when the call connects, it’s not vivianne’s face filling the screen. 

it’s lynn.  

“hi!” you blurt out, a little too enthusiastically. the blush that creeps up your cheeks is instant, and you hope the phone’s camera isn’t clear enough to catch it.  

lynn grins at you, leaning slightly into the frame. 

“viv’s here too, don’t worry,” she says, and sure enough, vivianne’s face appears next to hers, her expression amused.  

“i told her to call you,” vivianne says, smirking. 

“she couldn’t wait to talk to you, though.”  

lynn playfully nudges vivianne. 

“don’t listen to her. she’s making things up.”  

you laugh, the sound light and genuine. 

“so why do you have her phone? why am i talking to you, lynn?”  

“because i’m better company,” lynn teases, her grin widening.  

vivianne rolls her eyes. 

“don’t let her fool you. she’s been talking about you being at wolfsburg since we got here.”  

your face heats up again, and you try to play it cool. 

“well, i’m flattered,” you say, raising an eyebrow at lynn.  

“you should be,” lynn says with a wink, her voice dropping into a tone that makes your stomach do a little flip.  

the three of you chat for a few minutes, catching up on your respective breaks and any other life stuff. vivianne and lynn tease you about being so far away, and you tease them back about how much they seem to miss you.  

“i do miss you,” lynn says suddenly, her voice softer now. 

“can’t wait to have you back in wolfsburg.”  

“jeez, i’ve been gone for two days so far.. you are not in wolfsburg either.” you giggle. 

“yeah, but we are not on the same team right now.” 

“true, at least i’ll see you on the 27th!” you say. 

it's currently the 20th. 

the sincerity in her words catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget how to respond. finally, you manage to say, 

“i can’t wait to be back either.”  

there’s a pause, and then lynn adds, “you better be ready to train hard. i’m not going easy on you when we are back.”  

you smirk, finding your confidence again. 

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll make sure you can keep up with me.”  

vivianne groans dramatically in the background. 

“oh, great. now you’re both insufferable.”  

you all laugh, and eventually, the call comes to an end. as you hang up, your cheeks still feel warm, and you realize you’ve been smiling the whole time.  

“well, that was cute,” emily says, breaking the silence.  

you blink, looking over at her. 

“what?”  

“you and lynn,” she says, smirking. 

“it’s nice to see you’ve finally gotten over your crush on viv.”  

you frown, though your stomach twists with nerves. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

emily raises an eyebrow. 

“oh, come on. it was so obvious back at arsenal. you couldn’t even look at vivianne without turning red.”  

“i—” you start to protest, but she cuts you off.  

“and now? your eyes were glued to lynn. like, completely on the right side of the screen the whole time.”  

you bite your lip, trying to push away the fluttering feeling in your chest. 

“i was not—”  

“you so were,” emily interrupts, grinning. 

“and honestly? i think it’s a good thing. at least you actually have a chance with lynn.”  

you scoff, shaking your head. 

“she’s not interested in me like that.”  

emily tilts her head. 

“really? because it seemed pretty clear she was flirting with you.”  

“she was not,” you insist, though your voice lacks conviction.  

emily gives you a pointed look. 

“oh, yes she was. and you were flirting back.”  

you let out a laugh, trying to brush it off. 

“you’re ridiculous.”  

“no, i’m right,” she says firmly. 

“and i think you should stop overthinking it and let yourself like her.”  

next part here

[darcytaylor]

When “Just Looking at the Evidence” Becomes a Problem

Before I get into this, I want to be clear - this is not directed at shippers who simply enjoy Luke and Nicola’s chemistry, those who appreciate them as people, or those who respect their private lives.

Shipping is a natural part of fandoms, and when done respectfully, I think it’s fine.

This post is directed at the people who have taken shipping to an extreme - those who have convinced themselves they are "just looking at the evidence" while weaving together wild, invasive, and often insensitive theories. At that point, it’s no longer shipping - it’s something entirely different.

Shipping vs. Fantasizing: Know the Difference

There’s a huge difference between harmlessly shipping people - whether fictional characters or even co-stars - and creating elaborate fantasies about real individuals. While shipping can be a fun way to engage with a story or fandom, projecting detailed, speculative narratives onto real people can cross into invasive territory.

Shipping: Enjoying the chemistry, friendship, or dynamic between people, often in a fictional or lighthearted context.

Fantasizing: Constructing speculative stories about real people’s private lives, often based on incomplete information (and flawed so-called "evidence") without regard for their boundaries.

Why Fantasizing About Real People Crosses the Line

When fans create elaborate narratives about real people, it can:

Blur the line between fiction and reality: Making it harder for others to separate speculation from truth.

Perpetuate false narratives: Leading to harassment or invasions of privacy.

Disrespect individuals: By reducing their lives to a storyline crafted for entertainment.

People are far more nuanced than the curated glimpses we get online or in public. Social media posts, photos, or even patterns of behaviour aren’t a roadmap to someone’s inner life or relationships. They’re just snapshots - fragments of a much larger, unseen picture. And often, those fragments don’t connect the way people want them to.

The Loophole That Isn't a Loophole

I’ve seen some people claim that Nicola saying "If you have an opinion about me, that's ok. I understand I'm on TV and people will have things to think and say, but I beg you not to send them to me directly" somehow gives them permission to speculate about things like pregnancy.

Let’s be real - that is absolutely not what she meant. She’s literally acknowledging that people will have opinions, but she’s also making it clear that things like that make her uncomfortable. Saying "Don’t bring it to me" doesn’t mean she’s fine with people debating her body - it means she knows shitty people exist, but she’d rather not be subjected to it.

And sure, maybe you’re not sending it to her directly - but you are still doing the exact thing that makes her uncomfortable. And by putting it out into public spaces, you’re making it far more likely that it gets back to her indirectly. So whatever justification people think they’ve found? It’s fucking moot. It’s still insensitive.

Belief Doesn’t Equal Truth

Believing you’ve pieced together the “truth” because some moments appear to align is misguided. It overlooks the unknowns - the context we’re missing and the layers that exist in people’s lives. Just because something can seem a certain way doesn’t mean it is that way.

Humility matters. Recognizing that no matter how much you think you know, you actually know very little. Taking a step back and saying, “I don’t know what’s really going on” is not only more truthful but also shows respect for the people involved.

It’s okay to want people to be together - innocent shipping of loving chemistry between people is okay - but it’s not okay to create wildly speculative stories that exist only in your own mind.

Humility in Speculation: Knowing What We Don’t Know

Here’s the truth - I don’t know the full picture. None of us do. I don’t know Luke and Nicola as people, and I don’t know the ins and outs of their personal lives. And that’s okay. I'm not going to piece together and come up with my own flawed story about other peoples lives.

What I do know is that certain theories and speculation can be harmful, even when people think they’re harmless. Just because something is being discussed publicly, or even “positively,” doesn’t mean it isn’t invasive. (Cough spreading invasive pregnancy rumors cough). It doesn't mean it is kind. The line between curiosity and intrusion is thinner than people think.

Even if you think you've “figured something out,” there is always so much more you will never see, hear, or understand. Just because an idea feels compelling or fits a certain pattern doesn’t mean it reflects the truth.

So before engaging in deep speculation, it’s worth asking:

Am I respecting their privacy?

Am I letting curiosity turn into entitlement?

Am I remembering that these are real people, not fictional characters?

On the Idea of “Being Duped”

I’ve also noticed some frustration in the fandom, with people feeling like Luke and Nicola somehow “duped” the public with their behaviour on tour.

What we saw on tour was not unusual for two people who:

Are comfortable with each other.

Work together (and especially in the acting world).

Have shared an intense, career-defining experience.

This kind of dynamic isn’t uncommon in the entertainment industry or in any field where people work closely together (I know from personal experience). Their bond is unique, but that doesn’t mean it has to be romantic. To me, it’s always read as a deep friendship, a strong professional partnership, and two people who genuinely enjoy working together. And it really is beautiful!

I think some people wanted their interactions to confirm a specific narrative, and now that things aren’t aligning with that, they feel misled. But that’s not on Luke or Nicola. It’s a reminder that interpretation is subjective, and that sometimes, we project our own expectations onto things rather than seeing them for what they are.

The Consequences of Unchecked Fantasies

Making up stories about real people and treating those stories as fact (even when you say that you are okay if you are wrong, or if you say that you are just speculating) adds to:

Noise and confusion: Amplifying drama and misinterpretation.

Unnecessary pressure: On the individuals involved, complicating their personal lives further.

Public harassment: Rumours often escalate, influencing others to unfairly judge or attack. Bringing it indirectly to the main people in your fantasies.

Sure, you can feel like you’ve pieced together a narrative in your mind that makes sense to you. But actors are human beings, not characters in a fan-fiction. They shouldn’t be stripped down to an idea of what you think they should or shouldn’t be doing.

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again - people are nuanced. People are dimensional. If you don’t know them personally, you have no idea what goes on in their day-to-day lives. A few curated moments from interviews or social media will never give anyone the full picture.

I’ve seen a lot of people build theories around what they believe is evidence. But if you really looked at it critically, you would find that much of it is based on assumptions rather than actual confirmation. It’s worth asking - are you trying to make reality fit the story you want to believe?

Public speculation/fantasizing can have consequences that extend beyond the screen - impacting the real people you claim to support.

[stxar-pvnk]

After the events of civil war, Steve had gathered his team to reluctantly sign the updated and edited accords, Tony had accepted his mistakes and so did Steve, but that wasn't going to mend Tonys distrust of steve.

The captain was sad about that fact..but he didn't push it on him he decided it wouldn't be good to push a guy who was housing him and the guy who (unconsciously) killed Tonys parents.

The tower became a strained alliance between Tonys team and Steve's team and for the first month... everything was.

Until Peter Parker Swung into the tower casually walking past them and grabbing a caprisun and a Twix bar

"uh-are-what are you doing here..your like 12.." wilson spoke up startling the kid who had his headphones on, he ripped it out raising an eyebrow

"I'm 16..how old are you" he asked but didn't let him respond when Tony walked in, the older man's eyes lighting up in happiness when he saw Peter, something Steve's team hadn't seen in..awhile.

"kid! What are you doing here it's not lab day?" Tony grinned putting an arm around Peter

The kid shrugged ducking his head away from Tonys hand that was trying to ruffle his hair, "well..I left my chemistry homework here, and Its due tomorrow, it couldn't wait Mr stark" he beamed

"awh, not cause you missed your old man?" Tony teased leading Peter out the kitchen

"no way old man"

Clint turned his head the gears turning in his head as he blinked dumbly

"is that your kid? " Clint blurted out, an uncomfortable silence filling the space.

Tony turned to Clint with a confused almost annoyed look "uh..no. this is my intern. And Spiderman. obviously." Tony said dryly motioning to Peter.

Peter flushed in embarrassment turning his head from the spluttering avengers

"Tony! We fought a kid?! That was 2 years ago he was 14!" Steve said outraged as he stood up

Bucky tensed at the raising voices, Tonys eyes narrowed as Natasha intervened "it's very nice to meet you Peter." She said putting her hand out. Peter blinked "woah..I'm meeting the black widow..your.. awesome!" He gushed then covered his mouth in embarrassment of his fangirling.

So to be fair..there first meeting was astounding..and Clint was still convinced Peter was Tonys kid.

--

it was only when Peters aunt had asked a big favour of Tony, that things changed around the tower

"as you've heard, Ive taken a break from my usual working at the hospital..for a vacation, Peters pushed me into it saying I deserve it I was thinking of taking an actual break for a few months, If its too much I can definitely postpone it-" she stumbled over her words nervously,

tony laughed assuringly "I'd love to have Peter over for a couple of months, you take a well needed break with happy, me and pepper have got this." Tony grinned, aunt Mays relieved smile was all Tony needed.

Oh how wrong he was about that.

On September 13th, May dropped Peter off at the tower with his belongings and a kiss on the cheek, assuring him it would only take one phone call and she'd be on the first flight over.

Peter smiled at that, "I'll have fun here, don't worry aunt may!" He laughed,

That didn't lessen her worries, she slid a tazer into his hands "if any of the rogues give you crap Peter you taze them you hear me? You taze them!" She said getting in the car.

--

The first few weeks of living with Tony was good enough, Peter avoided the rogues as advised from Tony, (though it might've just been personal bias against them that fueled this decision) but Peter didn't question his words only agreed with a small smile.

The first time Peter met a rogue again was when he was sneaking out with his spider suit on one leg out the window as Natasha cleared her throat

"hello little spider. Fancy meeting you at.." she checked her phone "3am."

Peter laughed nervously rubbing the back of his neck "wha-what a coincidence Mrs Romanoff.."

"so what are you doing?"

"nothing."

"sneaking out?"

"yes."

"and your sneaking out because.."

"I'm..patrolling..?" He said nervously,

now on any other day Natasha would've believed that, but the the packed clothes that were definitely not his shoved messily in his bag spoke other volumes.

She rose a brow "be back by 6" she said nodding her head

"your the best miss widow!" He whispered and hopped out the window swinging into the night.

--

The next rogue he met was was a week later and with the terrifying assassin Bucky. Except ..that was strange because he definitely did not catch the winter soldier watching star trek in the movie room...

Did he?

But he definitely was.

"uh..hello Mr bucky." Peter adressed him making his presence known to the assassin who flinched at that

Guilt past Bucky's eyes as he pursed his lips

Silence filled the room at this being there first not hostile meeting

"I'm sorry i-"

"-mr Bucky I can't believe I threw captain America's sheild at you, please forgive me!" Peter interrupted

Bucky stared at him bewildered. Peter was apologising?

"I fought a fourteen year old kid who do you think is worse"

"I was nearly 15" he complained grumpily

"still a kid. Sorry about that." Bucky said awkwardly

Peter smiled and shrugged "water under the bridge! I love your metal arm though!" He said plopping down next to him inspecting his arm with narrowed eyes,

Bucky did his own inspecting giving Peter a once over his eyes narrowing at the bruise on his neck..

It could've been caused by a criminal that had gripped his throat but the bruise would be skinnier than that.

It finally clicked in his head what it was and he flushed in second hand embarrassment for the kid

"uh...kid you've uh..got something on your..ahem neck." He said pointing to it,

Peters eyes go wide in embarrassment and he pulled up his hoodie further up "oh-uh-thi-uh-" he stammered with an excuse resting on his tongue,

It had been awhile since Bucky had been in this situation but he knew enough of it from the little memories he was recovering

"I don't know if they still do it now..but the broads back in the day would cover that up with foundation, If you wanna hide it that bad..I know Wanda has an assortment of them.." Bucky cleared his throat at the foreign notion of giving advice to a kid

The teenager nodded shyly rubbing at it "uh..thank you Mr Bucky.. I just don't want.."

"—tony figuring it out?" Bucky answered his smile a bit more free now,

Peter blushed nodding his head quickly

"I don't think Wanda would want me talking to her..or in her room..or..around her..she seems very..avoidant" he answered swallowing thickly

Bucky put a reassuring not metal arm on Peters shoulder "just go ask, Kid, won't hurt to try." He said sending the teenager out.

The soldier doesn't mention to anyone how from then on he seemed a tiny bit more comfortable in the tower.

--

The next rogue he met was not accidental this time, but nonetheless made him nervous.

He worked up the courage, trying to squish down any remaining embarrassment and knocked on Wanda's door hesitantly.

The bed creaked and he heard the patter of feat against floorboard and then finally the door ppened

He blinked up at her "uh..hi Mrs maximoff.." he squeaked taking a step back,

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion "lunch is not until another hour, Mr Parker..I don't.." her voice trailed off confused and also wary of him

"I kind-of..I need your help? Not life or death help! Or power help.. uhm.. Mr Bucky said I should go to you?..I kinda..I need girl help I suppose?" He floundered nervously as he dragged his hoodie away from his neck to show his purple problem.

She blinked an amused smile creeping on her face, for a minute Peter thought she'd start laughing.

She grabbed him gently guiding him into her cosy clean-ish room, Peter took a seat at the end of the bed nervously wringing his hands and toying with his sweater, anxious looks sent Wanda's way. She grabbed out a few foundations and a beauty sponge dabber thing. She sat diagonal from Peter, cross legged and inspecting his colour of skin "alright kiddo, the hoodie comes off, gotta see what I'm working with" She smiled amused as Peter fumbled with his hoodie pushing it onto the bed and straightening up

His neck was littered with the purple Hickey's some leading down but how had no one seen this yet? Especially stark?-

Oh.

Oh.

"your keeping this from stark?" She asked in realisation

"uh..yeah.."

"the genius Tony stark?"

"that's the one..."

"so he hasn't approved of the relationship your in right now?" She asked incredulously

He rubbed his neck awkwardly "I think he'd throttle me and ...well you get the point, hes a bit..."

"overprotective?"

"yup."

They sat in silence as Wanda dabbed on the foundation that covered his skin easily she sighed shaking her head "if you want to keep this from stark I advise asking your.. girlfriend to refrain from obvious places, parker" she smiled as Peter flushed a deep red ".. noted." He laughed nervously and gave her a quick hug

"your the best Mrs maximoff thank you I owe you one!" He said jogging out her room in excitement

Wanda was a bit..touched the kid even hugged him. She was still feared from alot of people, so she was winded with the reaction of not fear or hatred from the kind boy.

--

The last of the rogues he met were Steve, Wilson and Clint, and this one was twice as embarrassing for Peter, why you ask?

Oh because Peter was half way through his phone call with Ned talking about his date to be when he noticed he was not alone.

He turned around and saw the three stumble around to look casual Wilson tripping over his shoelaces and falling on the couch backwards, Steve wiping down the already clean and dry dishes while Clint inspected the fake fruit on the dining room table whistling indifferently to act as if they hadn't heard about his mysterious dating life.

"you didn't hear any of that... right?" Peter asked with false nervous hope in his voice

Wilson stuck a thumb up "nope all good here, can't even...nope"

Clint put his hands up in surrender "I'm deaf!" He pointed to his hearing aids in assurance

They all turned to Steve who had stopped wiping

"uh..I could recommend you a restaurant for your next date with the gal..?" He shrugged his shoulders with a sympathetic smile

Peter shreiked in horror groaning "my life is over" he walked out loudly hitting his head with his phone to try erase the memory of it all.

"huh..nice kid?" Sam mumbled looking at Steve and clint

"you couldn't have acted like you hadn't heard?" He said unimpressed

"I can't lie to the kid!" Steve defended wincing when Peters superheating caught on and he let out a mortified moan of despair.

--

Tony had been getting considerably good sleep while Peter stayed at the tower, he felt at ease next to his wife..watched over by Friday..it usually kept away the nightmares..not this night.

He woke up in a cold sweat breathing heavily, he ripped the sheets off of him to stop the feeling of drowning he checked to see that pepper was still sleeping, sure enough, after a long week of stark industry meetings she deserved all the deep sleep she could catch.

Tony toed out of bed heading down to his lab, letting the heater warm his frozen toes as he began reworking on ironspider, his concentration unmovable.

It was only when he heard a cup smash from upstairs that he rubbed his head, now aware of the pounding headache he had. It occured to him that it was probably just Peter up there bored and making a hot chocolate.

Tony let his feet drag him off to the kitchen, ready to offer the kid to work in the lab till he got tired but was surprised to see it was just the captain's team huddled around drinking hot cocoa and sitting with eachother, Steve swept up the remaining glassware and looked at Tony guiltily "sorry uh..I knocked it over" he murmered as the rest looked at him

"no I just..was expecting to see Peter up here" he murmered confused as he looked at all of them, it was the first time they had a non passive aggressive conversation in the time they had been here.

"uh..no, the kids been in his room since dinner. Probably asleep" Wilson spoke up motioning to the room. Tony nodded walking to the room, just to make sure Peter himself wasn't having any nightmares, it didn't happen alot but..better safe then sorry right?

The door creaked open and there Peters bed was..but there Peter wasn't.

Tony stumbled out "Friday where's Peter? Friday?" Tony asked hurriedly alerting the others

"I'm sorry boss, he took the tracker out of his suit tonight."

Natasha whipped around "he's gone?" She questioned

The older man nodded hollowly silently freaking out as he paced the floors so much he thought he might burn a hole in it.

"let's stay calm, where could he have gone? A friends house?" Steve questioned tony worriedly.

He looked up "uh-uhm I suppose? Maybe Fred or mj..but at this time it's 2 am!"

Wanda's worried suggestions filled the room suddenly

"what if he's been kidnapped or-or-" she slammed her hand down the rings making a clink against the marble table

"security footage shows he willingly left after taking the tracker out" Friday answered calmly and robotically.

"okay okay okay..so..so someone he knows right?" Steve affirms rubbing his temple

"let's call his friends, then uhm.. well we'll start from there, Natasha Clint you two go out and patrol queens" Steve said and turned to bucky and Sam

"you guys search the tower me and Wanda and Tony will try to track him down" they all nodded at the order and left to look for Peter as Tony freaked out calling the MJ's parents first

"sorry Mr stark, he didn't end up at ours, goodnight."

"goodnight.."

--

Neds parents were next and they couldn't give up any location either "Peter hasn't turned up at ours either Mr stark, apologies, we'll keep a lookout for him, I'll ask Ned if there's any places he likes to hang out.. hopefully we find him." Atleast they had a little hope in their voice,

Tony was wrecked with worry watching Wanda blueprint the city, trying to see where the last string of web fluid ended up at,

It was only when stark had gotten a text from a private number that he felt a slight rush of relief but not that much.

"he has a person he hangs out with alot..I can give you an address but..if it really is that place don't freak out on him. —M.J"

The address sent and before Steve could refuse Tony was in his suit flying to the location with hope but fury.

He landed out an apartment, normal enough with an okay neighbourhood but that wasn't changing his mind, he lifted up in the air again, circling the windows till he reached the apartment seeing a flash of skin, a muffled laugh.

Peters laugh.

"Peter Benjamin Parker. Get out of that apartment right this minute" the suits and Tonys voice sounded out to the apartment, a slightly ruffled and tshirt-less Peter poked his head out the window, shock and embarassment dawning on his face, his jaw dropped

"m-mr stark?! What are you doing here!" Peters voice wavered

"what am I doing here? I should ask you the same damn thing, kid. Get your ass out here now, tell your little girlfriend I'm pissed my kid snuck out at the dead of night to sneak into her apartment too, and that I'm also Tony stark, aka; ironman." Tony barked out dryly, he heard a muffled

"What?!" From inside but ignored it in favour of glaring as hard as he could through his suit

"can I atleast-"

"Peter Benjamin stark get your ass here, I have nearly all the avengers looking all over new York and queens for you." He seethed, accidentally letting stark slip out his mouth, but he was so pent out he couldn't care.

Peter shrugged on a t-shirt that wasn't his with a glum look on his face walking out the apartment with a huff.

Tony landed on the ground "were talking about this when we get home." He said sternly grabbing Peter in a cradle position and flying him back.

Once he was back he called the rest of his teammates telling them that Peter was home safe luckily.

Wanda hurried in "Peter where have you been you had us worried sick!" She said eyeing him up and down catching the hickey before she began to shake her head,

Peter shrugged weakly with a tight smile, Tony sent off Peter shaking his head and muttering thank you's to the exhausted avengers as they all went to sleep awaiting the confrontation tomorrow.

--

The breakfast was awkward. Well. More than usual, everyone was sat down this morning and all staring at Tony and Peter who ate quietly despite the soft scratches against their plates.

"so. Peter. Would you like to tell me and the rest of us why you thought it would be a good idea to sneak out of the tower at 2 am to go see hookup with your girlfriend?" Tony set down his cup of coffee watching Peter.

The boy glanced at everyone awkwardly before clearing his throat "it's..a private relationship..I didn't want you finding out I was doing that typa stuff..plus you said teenage rebellion is good once in a while!"

"I was talking about taking a shot of tequila not going ghost, without a tracker and without protection!"

"I am the protection Tony!"

The both glared at eachother for a minute before Tony relaxed back with a tight grimace

"so..uh..are we meeting this kind soul?" Wanda asked nervously breaking the silence and stares

Peter rubbed the back of his neck grimacing "I guess I can't hide them from you guys anymore..not that I hid it from you guys.." he gestured to the rogues. Tony spluttered angrily turning to them "you guys knew?!"

"he didn't want you to know, we were respecting his privacy" Natasha said calmly

"if it makes you feel any better...we didn't necessarily find out because he willingly told us..we all just found out in awkward times he was dating someone.." Steve smiled supportively,

Tony scolded sighing

"fine. They come over today."

Peter nodded his head and left the day.

--

A quick text sent to the contact "Babe💕" was soon received with a thumbs up.

Sitting in the lounge room everyone sat in awkward silence, awaiting the arrival as Peter cleared his throat avoiding any questioning looks he got.

The elevator let out a soft sound to announce someone was here,

Out popped Harley fucking keener

All grown with shaggy honey blonde hair, peircing blue eyes, a good filled body and a smile "hey tony" he said cheerfully

"ha-harley? What are you doing here kid? Now this is a surprise visit youve come on the awkwardest time! Were meeting Petey pies girlfriend, which speaking of, I should introduce you! Peter this is Harley, Harley this is Peter" he said with a confused yet bright smile, it was a good surprise, just bad timing.

Peter smiled shyly at Harley "hi.."

"hello darlin', now I myself have never been called a girlfriend before but uh..fair enough." Harley smiled sliding his arm around Peter

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks

"that's..thats a guy."

"w.o.w."

"I did not expect that"

"so it's a boyfriend!"

Tony spluttered confused which one to get angry at "your with Harley?" He demanded

"your not angry that he's a guy are you..?"

"what are we in 1960? No! I'm angry I didn't know you knew Harley! How long has this-"

"well old man, he didn't even know I knew you, it never came up since you know..most of the time we were kinda busy.." Harley shrugged wiggling his eyebrows

"gross babe! Not Infront of mr stark!"

Tony was reeling "uh..proud of you kiddo..??"

"definitely not a broad kid" Bucky hummed

Natasha hummed "do I have to shovel talk the kid or.. should I pass the honours to the confused parent?" Natasha teased

"I think I've got it down pat, don't hurt Peter or I die, don't hurt Peter or I'll be hunted down his weird auntie and uncle avengers, be safe, use protection, don't coerce him into sneaking out and getting a belly button piercing again-" Harley rallied off

"PETER BENJAMIN STARK YOU HAVE A BELLY BUTTON PEIRCING?!—"

[echotunes]

hey! What is Tatort Saarbrücken and is there English subtitles for it? (Also where can I watch it?)

hi anon! so. bear with me here,

First you must understand that Tatort ("Crime Scene") (Wikipedia) is the German cop show. A lot of German television is cop shows, but this is the one - it's been running every Sunday since 1970 (making it the longest-running German TV drama), in the prime time slot at 8:15pm on public-service broadcast organisation ARD's TV channel Das Erste, right after the evening news program Tagesschau. Murder-of-the-week style, every episode deals with a homicide case that the characters then investigate and eventually solve (and it's all very dramatic, as crime shows tend to be). So you understand Tatort is very mainstream. The mainstream. Your parents watch Tatort. Your grandparents watch Tatort. It's a Thing. (it's also obviously all copaganda we're aware of this)

(This makes the fact that it trends on Tumblr every year very funny to everyone involved. Because it's, y'know. Tatort. Half the reason people (including me) get into it is because they go "why is Tatort of all things trending on Tumblr what is all this about")

There's different versions of Tatort, set in different cities and all produced by the public-service broadcast services of that region - each focusing on different characters (but all of whom are cops because that's what the show is about). Each location only gets one to three episodes a year, so it switches through every week. There's Cologne, Münster, Berlin, whatever; and then there's Saarbrücken. Saarbrücken is the capital of Saarland, the smallest German state after Bremen, Hamburg and Berlin (all of which are city-states). It's... unremarkable. You never usually hear anything about Saarbrücken. Or Saarland in general really (sorry Saarland). So you wouldn't expect its Tatort to be remarkable either.

Except! This particular set-in-Saarbrücken Tatort has been running since 2020, and people on Tumblr got interested in it because the two main guys have a Dynamic(tm) going on. After episode 3 they also officially added the two women to the main team because they forgot about them the first time around or something (thank you mainstream tv). but anyway our four characters are Leo Hölzer (the buff guy in the holster, kind of the glue of the team), Adam Schürk (dishevelled blond man who is really bad at his job and Angsty(tm)), Pia Heinrich (workaholic in the sports jacket), and Esther Baumann (big football fan, seemingly the only person on this team who actually takes her job seriously).

Tatort Saarbrücken is also affectionately known as "Spatort" (Spaten (spade) + Tatort), because a lot of Leo and Adam's Dynamic is about the fact that they knew each other as kids when Adam was being physically abused by his dad, and Leo eventually hit the dad over the head with a shovel, putting him in a coma (which, spoilers, he wakes up from at the end of the first episode). And then Adam went missing (left the city) for like 15 years but now he's returned to Saarbrücken for mysterious reasons (it was Leo. Leo was the reason). and now he and Leo are work colleagues and they have queer-flavoured tension going on and this backstory is still very much relevant in between the usual crime-solving. they are honestly not very good at their jobs but well that's part of the appeal. and people enjoy gay shipping them because of course they do. (is this queerbaiting? maybe! but again the fact that this is all in Tatort is very ???-inducing to many)

Pia and Esther were only officially added to the "main team" in episode 3 because I guess the writers forgot about women for the first two. which is unfortunately not surprising but well they're here too now! until last episode they felt like they might have had some sort of queer thing going on too but then in the 2025 episode Pia had a suspiciously-het-romance-teasing scene with Adam (they do not have romantic chemistry this was a weird choice we all agree on this) and Esther was flirting with a previously-unseen French colleague (who was a woman though so win for queer Esther enjoyers) so who knows. but we like them too! even though there's less dramatic backstory for them both, there's still things hinted at (like Pia's sister having gone missing years ago. knowing this show this will be relevant at some point)

Also as you may have already gathered there is only one episode of Tatort Saarbrücken released every year. So basically every January we all come together and tune in to watch our annual 90 minutes of cop show episode, liveblog together, make gifsets about it, trend on Tumblr, and then go back into hibernation until the next year. It's a beautiful event for the German tumblr community

As for watching it: It's public television, so it's available for free online in the ARD Mediathek. The six episodes there have been so far are, in order:

Das fleißige Lieschen (named after the codename for the V-3 cannon (Wikipedia) - 2020)

Der Herr des Waldes (The lord of the forest - 2021)

Das Herz der Schlange (The heart of the snake - 2022)

Die Kälte der Erde (The cold of the earth - 2023)

Der Fluch des Geldes (The money curse - 2024)

Das Ende der Nacht (The end of the night - 2025)

As for English subtitles - there's no official ones, but you can check out this post for info on fanmade ones!

[ellouchi]

One-shot: "Forget me not"- Jimmy (gn/nsfw?)

Disclaimer: unreliable narrator, Jimmy being Jimmy, implied SA in the ending.

Side notes: I knooow I've said I'd post it yesterday, but I was on four hours of sleep and completely exhausted from work so sowwy guys. I've tried my best to fix as many mistakes as I could so sorry again if you see any, I'll probably edit this fic again later but for now... enjoy!

Today, Jimmy would make sure you would never forgot him again.

First he just had to wait until it was the night time on the ship, when it was darker and quieter, without any extra pairs of eyes and ears putting a wrench in his plans. Standing in the doorframe, the man observed you like a beast it's pray — you were writing a report about your performance in the common rooms. You often got out of your own room to sit there, same old walls giving you an eye sore, you once said. You used to turn around, wave at him when he passed by, but now you didn't even acknowledge him when he finally entered the room — Jimmy had to tamper the sudden pang of annoyance that shot through his body and instead appear to be as nonchalant as he could master.

Turned out there really was just a single step between love and hate, Jimmy though to himself. It was a shame things couldn't be the way they were at the beginning.

Before all that, when you first boared Tulpar, you were just a temporary crew member assigned to be babied with until the management decided to throw you on another ship. Something instantly clicked for Jimmy when captain Curly introduced you to the crew, and no wonder: you were smart enough to stick to Jim — not too close to the sun, but not crawling in the dirt.

Jimmy didn't show it, but he quickly noticed how you sought after him more often than the others, turned up to him for advices about work related matters and laughed at his quips and jokes that he made. Hard work really does pay off, Jimmy would think to himself, while laying on the bed with his brand new piloting license gleaming like a precious gem in his hand. Unlike with other people, everything about you felt so genuine, so seamless and easy, Jimmy didn't need to try hard for you to look up to him. He could be himself.

Best thing was, the signs told Jim that the feeling was mutual. You were the first one to greet him with a good morning, last one to part with a good night. Looked at him with shining eyes, smiles lingering longer than they should. If you sitting almost thigh to thigh next to him on the couch wasn't the obvious signal from you, then Jimmy didn't know what was.

Even ship's underwhelming conditions turned out to be a blessing in disguise when the AC system broke down, forcing you to work with your blue jumpsuit peeled off from your shoulders. The man never missed the way you tugged at your yellow t-shirt, suddenly his own coveralls feeling a bit stuffy and uncomfortable to be in. At his playful suggestion for both of you to strip you merely laughed, but never disregarded the idea...That evening Jimmy, however, let his hand and imagination run wild with the thought of your hands exploring everything covered by the pesky blue suit and a plain white shirt he wore.

Problems started to arise when Swansea took a note of your budding chemistry. He usually would run his trap hours on end, complaining about this and that, patronising as ever with his "age and experience" seemingly giving him permission to preach and lecture others.

"If I were a green fool like ya I would stay a mile a way from our "watchful" co-pilot. He's more bark than bite, but all the pain in the ass." Jimmy overheard Swansea call out to you when you two stood together to get the melted sweet treats from the vending machine. Said co-pilot clicked his tongue in annoyance, throwing back a jab at the uninvited mechanic, fortunately prompting a laugh from the old man. Ignorant of both men's concerns you simply chuckled at the sight, not digging any deeper. Despite this, you begun dressing a bit more modesty, robbing Jimmy of the opportunity of gawking at you. That damn Swansea.

Days, turning into weeks passed uneventfully. You concluded your training, which meant now you were officially just another cog in the corporate machine. Same all routine settled on the same old freighter ship, except for a few things. The captain seemed to finally acknowledge his esteemed co-pilot by dropping onto him his own "important captain assignments". Which was false, Jimmy knew Curly was just growing too exhausted to fulfil his daily quota, though the reason eluded him. Another odd thing was regarding you. Jimmy had a feeling he saw you less and less with each passing day, without counting the times you spent actually performing your work. You were the first one to finish the meals, the quickest one to get out from the shower and the space ship manual practically never left your hands. Jim hated it to admit this, but he missed you.

The pieces fell right into their places when Jimmy entered cockpit one ordinary shift to hand in the paperwork he did in captain's stead.

To be frank, Curly was slowly getting on Jimmy's nerves for some time already, this whole "all capable and reliable" act seemingly never ending. However, no feeling of irritation could compare to only what could Jimmy describe as betrayal running through his veins when he saw you bowing and shaking captain's hand with "thank you". His "friend" was standing way too close to you and you — to him, no, straight up leaning in.

Suddenly snippets of you two hanging out in the common room flooded Jimmy's mind, you skipping out of the cockpit with a smile on your face a few days ago, you asking Jimmy out of blue what Curly was like when he was younger and Curly praising you for your efforts during the piloting--

"Am I interrupting something?" escaped Jimmy's mouth faster than he could register. His nails left marks on cheap rough papers he clutched, sweat blurring away the ink, all the boring tedious work done for nought.

"Oh hey Jim. No, not at all. Just helping out our new college with excess workload." Jimmy gaze hardened over the fact that it was Curly who stepped up first to clear things up. "You know how it is with Pony Express: setting high standards with small deadlines and...." Jimmy stopped listening to anything else that left Curly's mouth, his focus shifting entirely to you. You refused to meet his gaze by staring dumbly at the metal floor.

Why were you silent now?

Why did you avoid looking in his direction?

Why did you turn up to Curly for help and not him?

You, who followed Jimmy like a puppy prior, buttering him up with empty talks, asking him a favour after favour. In the end only to abandon him when you raised high enough on the ledder to turn up with your issues to the captain himself. And Curly, whom he considered his closest friend, instead of helping Jim tried to snatch you away. Being well respected captain wasn't enough, he had to lure away you too....

Jimmy should've figured it was all too nice to be true.

The man didn't wait for Curly to finish or you to start, instead he just threw the papers onto the fax machine and waved his hand in dismissal as he left, lessons learnt and mood completely spoiled for the rest of the week.

It hurt. But Jimmy had to keep going forward. Curly crawled back to him eventually like he always did — reminiscent of a dog with its tail hidden between the legs. At least Curly seemed to take the hint and grew distant from you, pushing the professional approach all the way. The captain managed to make amends, he had to, if it meant keeping the peace on the ship.

No, Jimmy didn't care about his friend's betrayal. What drove him up on the wall was your reaction, or the lack of it. Because you pretended like nothing happened, resuming your busy day to day life, but this time avoiding Jimmy almost entirely. Ignoring you in return wasn't an option as the relationship between you two didn't reach the point where you'd feel anxious without his attention. Jimmy felt sick — he grew too comfortable around you and it bit him back in the ass.

Here he was, struggling to keep his composure without hearing a familiar lazy "good morning" coming from you at the dinning table every day. Any attempts at catching your gazes never resulted in anything other than a pit heaving in his stomach. Jimmy begun skipping game nights altogether when you found yourself a new spot at the armchair near the massive screen. The man grew desperate enough to eavesdrop on your unimportant daily chit chats in distant hope to get anything out of them to use. Rummaging through your stuff also proved to be fruitless. Everything to no avail.

Jimmy grew sick and tired of waiting for you to come to him. It was time for him to come to you.

"We've got a fax message from the corporate. You might wanna check this one out."

Luring you out was too easy, the man almost felt bad for abusing your innocence. But it was your fault for being an ignorant fool and trusting a person you slighted. Jimmy never said it was an update about your placement, just a message from the management — everything else was your wishful thinking. You proded co-pilot for any information on your way to the cockpit, but the later remained tight lipped and instead chatting you up about the most mundane things happening on Tulpar. If you hadn't lowered your guard down, you would hear the click of the lock sealing your fate.

"Alright, let's have a look at what those higher ups prepared for me" you said with a sigh, landing on the free seat with a paper in hands.

Jimmy humoured you a little further, standing right in front of you with his arms folded in the waiting stance, observing impatiently how your eyes skimmed through the text.

"Uhh...Jim this is just a general reminder that our haul is reaching it's destination in 30 days."

"I know" he flatly replied.

"Sooo why did you invite me here then?"

"Man, I can't believe some people can be this dense. Goes to show we can't trust others with anything. Even reading the room." Jimmy grumbled, yanking the document from your hands and letting it settle down onto the floor. Suddenly the man buckled over the pilot seat you were sitting on, both strong hands forcing your wrists down on the leather armrests. "Do you still not understand why I've dragged you here?"

This got your full undivided attention — you shrunk in the armchair, trying to slip your arms away from the bruising hold. You were akin to the fish thrown out of water with how your mouth opened and closed, before you gathered back your thoughts to respond.

"W-wait what are you talking about. I don't understand...." Jimmy searched for anything that could resemble a lie in your frighted eyes, but came up with nothing. You really were painfully oblivious to all his suffering this whole time.

"Is it that easy for you to discard people from your life? Hm? Must be nice to go about your day without a care in the world while I'm left to wonder what I have done wrong to be treated this way."

You remained silent, simply staring at the man in front of you in disbelief. God, just why he had to deal with someone as slow as you.

At last it clicked in your mind, your brows knitting together.

"...you don't mean us spending less time together right? Or is it about that one time with Curly? I just have my own work to take care of, and the captain has already told you that we were j--"

A heavy slap landed on you cheek before you had any time to finish. The sting wasn't going to hurt as much as other things Jimmy had in store for you — you didn't know it just yet.

"Don't try to bullshit me now. I know exactly what was your plan from the very beginning" uttered Jimmy, bringing his face right in front of yours. He wanted to see you cry so badly, beg for his forgiveness — Jimmy was almost willing to beat you up with his bare fists if it meant getting what he desired. "If you really think you can screw me up and not suffer any consequences you are dead wrong. I was being nothing but kind and patient, even taught you things no-one else would, and that's how you repay me? By going behind my back to fuck your way up by using Curly? Sorry to disappoint you, but you're not even in his taste."

Once again the man could read complete bewilderment from your facial features alone. Burning pain on your cheek all but forgotten, you raised you face to meet Jimmy's. Tiny drops of glistening tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, you lower lip instinctively bitten and chewed on from the tension. It had to be one of the most beautiful faces you've ever made: full of confusion, fear and submission.

"Jimmy... you got it all wrong, please just listen to me." You've tried, earnestly tried to calm the man down, to find a way out of the situation you were forced into. But there was no reasoning, no bargaining, nothing left.

Jimmy leaned in to where your ear was, letting out hot puffs of air as he spoke. "You had a chance to explain yourself, but you've missed it. Don't forget that you brought this upon yourself. You"

Jimmy saw you gasp in horror before he smashed his mouth against yours with such force your head hit the back on the chair. Your lips have already been parted so he wasted no time tracing your lower lip with his tongue, hot and slick from all the waiting. That wasn't what Jimmy initially planned, but it felt right at that moment. All pent up emotions suppressed for god knows how long suddenly taking a hold of his better judgement. Actually, this would work too — it would make you never forget about him ever again.

You squirmed against Jimmy's hold once again, trying to turn your head away to the sides. Jimmy had to crawl on top of you to secure your head against the leather pad of the seat, fully inserting his tongue to violate your mouth. He lapped at you like a starved man, not caring about his stubble scratching at your skin or about the saliva seeping down your chin.

Jimmy caught a sights of your eyes squeezed shut which he didn't like at all. It seemed like his words didn't get through your thick skull after all, so he dug his knee right into you groin, making you jolt, stilling your struggles momentarily.

"Don't. Ignore me." Jimmy growled staring straight into your eyes. "If you want this to be over then just do what I say. Understand?" he finished, waiting for your response.

If it wasn't for the twisting ache in your throat, you would say something to Jimmy, but instead you gave a jittety nod.

This prompted Jimmy to finally smirk: a dark variation of a smile you were used to seeing whenever the man was about to say something witty. You instantly regretted your choice, cruel hand zipping down the fly of your blue uniform in a swift motion — from your chest to your abdomen, only setting the regret deeper and deeper...

"Then do me a favour and stay still, will you?"

[nuyhado3o]

Love talk

Warnings: kissing, makeout

Summary: At a glamorous party, the protagonist shares a charged connection with Wi Ha-joon. As they escape to a quiet balcony, their playful conversation turns into an intimate, passionate kiss. The chemistry between them is undeniable, and as the night unfolds, they both sense that this is just the beginning of something deeper and more intense.

wc: ~1.5k

The low hum of the music seemed to vibrate through the entire room, a soft, sensual rhythm that made it almost impossible not to move with it. You leaned against the cool marble countertop, watching the people around you—laughing, talking, dancing—but none of it seemed to catch your attention. Your focus was entirely elsewhere.

The rich, amber glow of the chandelier above caught in the reflections of your glass, the red wine swirling lazily as you took a delicate sip. The party was luxurious, with every detail carefully crafted for perfection, but there was something missing for you. That is, until you noticed him.

Across the room, under the soft lighting, he stood. Wi Ha-joon. The way he carried himself, so effortlessly handsome in his dark suit, made it clear he was used to the attention. But it wasn’t the way others looked at him that drew your gaze—it was the way his eyes, dark and unreadable, were fixed on you.

For a brief moment, time seemed to slow. His intense stare made you feel as if you were the only person in the room. His lips twitched into a small smile, one that made the corner of your mouth curve in return.

You didn’t look away, not even when the subtle smile on his face grew more pronounced. There was something magnetic about him, a quiet confidence that made him impossible to ignore.

The group of people he was conversing with began to drift apart, and without missing a beat, he made his way toward you. Every step he took seemed calculated, yet effortless, and you couldn’t help but notice how the air around you seemed to thicken, charged with something unspoken.

“Quite the crowd tonight,” he said smoothly, his voice low and warm, carrying a hint of playfulness.

You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly as you set your glass down on the counter. "Mm, it’s a little much for me,” you admitted, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I was thinking of finding somewhere quieter.”

He took a step closer, his presence filling the space around you. “I can’t blame you. It’s a bit overwhelming,” he said, his voice dipping lower. You could feel the slight warmth of his breath as he leaned in just a touch closer, his scent—a mix of cologne and something earthy—drifting in the air between you.

The intensity in his gaze deepened, and your heart skipped a beat. “And what about you?” you asked, your voice soft, almost teasing. “What brings you here?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Curiosity,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “Curiosity about you.”

The words hung between you, thick with meaning. The way his gaze lingered on your lips told you everything you needed to know—he wasn’t just being polite. He wanted more. You could feel it in the space that separated you, the unspoken promise of something more thrilling, more intimate.

Before you could respond, he placed his hand lightly at the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of heat through you, and without thinking, you found yourself leaning into him just a little. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but the way his fingers brushed against your skin made the space between you seem impossibly small.

“I think I know somewhere,” he murmured, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your dress, sending shivers up your spine.

The low murmur of the crowd around you seemed to fade as he guided you through the party. He moved with quiet confidence, and you, almost against your will, followed. The tension between you both was palpable, the kind that builds slowly and steadily until you can’t tell whether it’s the anticipation of what's to come or the heat of his proximity that makes your heart race.

When you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air hit your skin like a gentle kiss, but it did little to cool the fire building inside you. The city stretched out below, its lights twinkling like a thousand stars, and for a moment, you felt like you were the only two people left in the world.

“This is better,” you said softly, turning to face him. You could hear the faint beat of music coming from the party inside, but it felt distant now. All you could focus on was him—the way he stood before you, so sure of himself.

“Much better,” he agreed, his voice low, almost velvety. His eyes roamed over your face, settling on your lips with such intensity that you couldn’t look away.

You took a step closer to him, your breath catching in your throat as his hand slid from your back to your waist. “I’m glad you think so,” you replied, your voice a whisper now.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. The air between you both grew thicker, charged with an undeniable energy. You could feel his pulse, steady and strong, mirroring your own as your chest rose and fell with the rhythm of your breath.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, his lips were on yours. It was slow at first, almost tentative, as if he was gauging your reaction. You responded instinctively, your lips moving with his in a soft, sensual rhythm. The kiss was intoxicating, like a long drink of something smooth and rich, a warmth spreading through your body with every second.

His hand slipped to your neck, fingers gently cradling your jaw as he deepened the kiss. You felt the heat of him—his body pressed so close to yours, the slight burn of desire creeping through your veins. His kiss was tender, but there was a hunger in it, a need that seemed to match the pulse of your own desires.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and with a flush rising to your cheeks, he remained close. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, the air between you still thick with longing.

“You’re…” he started, voice hoarse, “unbelievable.”

You chuckled softly, running your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer just slightly. “I could say the same about you,” you replied, your voice still hushed but full of meaning. “It’s almost unfair.”

He smirked, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m more than willing to give you everything you want.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, the heat between you only intensifying. The way he said it, so confidently and with such certainty, made something inside you ache with need.

“You’re very confident,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with the same hunger you could see mirrored in his eyes.

“I have every reason to be.” His voice was low and serious now, a quiet tension hanging in the air. He leaned in again, his lips brushing the soft curve of your neck. The feeling of his mouth on your skin made your pulse spike, and you fought to keep your composure.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he murmured against your skin, sending a shiver of pleasure through you.

“Really?” You tilted your head slightly, allowing him more access as your breath hitched in your throat. “And what exactly have you been thinking about?”

His lips moved to your ear, and you felt his breath against your skin as he whispered, “About how long it would take for me to kiss you like this. To make you feel everything I’m feeling right now.”

You were sure the world could see the heat in your cheeks as you met his gaze, a mixture of desire and amusement in your eyes. “And?”

He smiled—a slow, confident smile that made your heart race all over again. “And I think I’ve waited long enough.”

Without another word, his lips found yours again. This time, there was no hesitation, no questioning. It was pure, raw, and desperate. And you, caught in the moment, let go of any lingering doubts, losing yourself to the kiss, to the night, to him.

When the kiss finally ended, you were both breathless, the sound of your rapid heartbeats filling the space between you. His hand cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing your cheek as if committing every detail to memory.

“This,” he whispered, his voice soft but insistent, “is just the beginning.”

And you couldn’t help but agree.

A/n: requested by someone👅👅 REQUESTED???? AS IN MY REQUESTS??? WHICH ARE OPEN??? AND FREE??? exactly pls request

[biggerbearficrecs]

January 2025 Fic Recs

A list of what I’ve read/am reading this month.

[Note: Sorry for the delay.]

All recs underneath the cut:

Summary:

Teaser:

The Restless One by @bullet-prooflove (Colter Shaw x Reader)

Summary: Colter never sticks around in one place until now.

Teaser:

He sighs, thinking you’ve disappeared again but then he hears the crackle of wood outside, sees the orange glow of a fire peeking through the blinds.

He brings the blanket with him when he steps outside of the trailer. There’s a bite in the Nebraska air that causes goosebumps on his skin, he can see them on yours too as you sit out here in nothing but his t-shirt with a mug of tea clasped between your hands.

The scent of lavender reaches his nostrils, it’s infused with honey and camomile. Nightime tea, he realises, the exact same type his mom used to make when he was a kid.

“Bad dreams?” He questions as he drapes the blanket around your shoulders, squeezing them gently before he sits down alongside you.

“You think I’d be used to them by now.” You sigh, tucking yourself up against him.

“I don’t think it’s ever something you get used to.” He says softly, staring into the fire. “I still dream about the night my father died, finding him at the bottom of that cliff…”

He trails off then because he doesn’t like going back to that night, the guilt that’s associated with it. For the longest time he’d thought Russell was responsible, but then he ran into him again, looked into his eyes he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that his brother had killed their father.

“They say that PTSD changes your brain chemistry.” You tell him as you cradle the mug to your chest. “Mine must be seven shades of fucked up at this point.”

“I’d say we’re both a little fucked up.” Colter concedes as he gathers you up close, shielding you from the coldness of the night. “It’s probably why this works so well.”

A comfortable silence falls, the two of you watching the flames as they lick up towards the sky trying to chase away the darkness.

The Exit Strategy by @waynes-multiverse (Russell Shaw x Female!Reader)

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Teaser:

“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.

Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”

Russell only smirked at that.

Unspoken Words by @winchesterwild78 & @cheekygirl2309 (Jensen Ackles x Reader)

Summary: This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there.

Teaser:

We were walking around looking at everything they had. Lily saw shirts and other items with Jensen on them and immediately wanted them. 

Then I heard a laugh that instantly pulled my head in the other direction. Standing at the Radio Company table was Jensen. 

My heart beat wildly. Lily didn’t hear or see him at first, but then he started talking and she saw him. 

Her eyes went wide and before I could stop her she ran towards him, arms wide and hugged his leg. 

“ Oh, who’s this?” He said as I walked up. Clif was instantly by his side. I was so scared we were about to be kicked out. 

“I am so sorry. She saw you and got away before I could grab her. Lily, let go. Come on baby.” She held tighter. Jensen smiled at me and bent down, “Hello Lily. It’s nice to meet you.” She held tighter. 

“I’m so sorry. She doesn’t speak. She’s nonverbal but loves Dean. We watch the show together as a way to bond. Lily, please let go. He has to leave. We have to leave.” 

She shook her head no. I took a deep breath trying to hold myself together.

1am by @bullet-prooflove (Joe Velasco x Reader)

Summary: You call Joe at 1am asking for a ride

Teaser:

You’re asleep, curled up in the passenger seat of Joe’s car, his leather jacket draped around you. He turns up the heating, reaching over to alter the vent so the warm air blows in your direction.

You’d scared the hell out of him tonight, calling him up at 1am drunk and crying, begging him to pick you up. He doesn’t think he’s ever dressed so quickly in his life. He’d found you hanging around outside that old bar the two of you used to visit, back when you were more than just friends.

He gets part of the story as he helps you into the car. The man you were with, the one after him, he was fucking someone else. You’d caught him in your bed, left the apartment without so much as your jacket.

Joe can’t say he’s surprised, there’s always been rumours about that guy, he’d tried to tell you that but you’d accused him of being bitter, jealous. It’s the reason the two of you stopped talking for a while because you were half right, he was jealous of the man who got to love you, the one that wasn’t him.

Baby, it's Cold by @winchestergirl2 (Alec McDowell x Reader)

Summary: Alec tries to convince you to stay in bed.

Teaser:

There was a crisp chill in the air when you woke, making you want to snuggle back down under the covers. Turning your head, to check the time you realise you are going to have to brave the chill or face the wrath of Normal for being late to work once again. Although in your defence, how were you supposed to resist the charms of the man who was the cause of your recent tardiness.

As you try to twist yourself out of the warm cacoon you were in, Alec woke up and slid his arms around you, mumbling into your neck 'it's too cold, stay in bed'.

Downpour by @klutzygirl (Brooke x Rachel)

Summary: Rachel and Brooke run out into a storm.

Teaser:

Rachel grabbed Brooke’s hand and gently dragged out of the house, ready to soak up the storm. “What the hell?” a laughing Brooke shrieked as the rain started to pour down on them.

“Figured you’d want to enjoy this,” a grinning Rachel told her before they locked lips.

“Okay, you win this round,” Brooke acquiesced.

“Glad you know who the real winner is here,” Rachel snarked at her girlfriend before twirling her around.

They were both soaked to the bone now but neither one of them gave a flying fuck about it - they could have fun drying each other off in a little while.

Sneaking Away by @caplanbuckybarnes (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean catches you just before you leave the bunker for good.

Teaser:

The creak of the bunker’s heavy door echoed faintly in the stillness of the night, followed by the soft shuffle of boots against the cold floor. You barely made it past the war room when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Where are you sneaking off to at this late hour?”

You froze, heart sinking at the familiar gravel in Dean’s voice. Slowly, you turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes shadowed with suspicion—and something deeper you couldn’t quite place.

“Dean…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor, the sound unnerving in the silence. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding toward the duffel slung over your shoulder.

You tightened your grip on it instinctively, your stomach churning. “It’s nothing. I just need some air, that’s all.”

“That why you’ve got your car keys, too?” His jaw clenched, his gaze burning into yours.

You bit your lip, unable to meet his eyes. You’d spent weeks working up the nerve for this moment, convincing yourself it was for the best. But standing here, with Dean looking at you like that—like you were breaking something inside him—it was almost too much to bear.

#11 by @talesfromlissom (SDV Leah x Female!Reader)

Teaser:

Leah looks up and behind the couch again, her grip on her fuzzy blanket tightening. There’s another crash against the door, causing Leah to flinch. You turn to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Leah?” You whisper.

“I heard it again.” She whispers. “The…banging on the door.”

“Banging?” You ask.

Leah nods, her eyes fixed on the door infront of her.

“Do…Do you think-” Leah starts.

“No, I never think.” You chuckle, grinning afterwards. Leah frowns.

“Sorry.” You mutter, clearly not being able to lighten the mood.

Leah scooches over to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“You don’t think someone is trying to break in…right?”

You shake your head.

“In this weather? No. I wouldn’t even go out in this weather. I think it’s just the thunder, dear.” You say, planting a soft kiss on her head.

Hush Hush Behind The Shield by @syrma-sensei (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Being America's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free…

Teaser:

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

"I'd let you if you asked" by @heavysighing-dreamyeyes (Jason Todd x Reader)

Teaser:

Jason Todd always had a habit of being in your space. It's something you didn't mind, but it is something you kept note of. He leans towards you, head angled down to catch every sound that comes through your throat, observing every twitch of your muscles with a sharp, intent gaze.

But even if he always seems to linger in your shadow, even if his eyes darkened with the desire for something more, he was careful. He never touched you before you touched him, and he always caught himself, when his fingers instinctively reached for you.

Something as simple as a hug, a brush over the back of your hand, a tousle of your hair, he denied himself over and over again. It was almost frustrating to see him denying himself something you never held back from him.

He melts into every hug you give, relishes when you thread your fingers together, nearly drops to his knees every time you kiss his cheek.

But then he'll falter, when you pull away, like he's snapping back to reality. He'll remind you that he's not good. In not so many words, he tells you he's poison. That he'll end up ruining you. Breaking you.

You think he's silly for it, because Jason Todd is nothing but good.

Helping Hand by @bensonstablers (Benson x Velasco)

Summary: Prepared to go home for the night, Velasco finds Olivia still in her office and sticks around to check in with her.

Teaser:

He moves closer to where she stands but not too close, afraid to spook her again.

“Here.”

She turns, looking a little startled but not scared. Her eyes narrow in confusion then down to the bag of peas he’s holding up and her face turns to amusement as she raises a brow at him. “Peas?”

“Yeah, I picked them up.” He feels nervous suddenly. “Figured they might come in handy with," he gestures vaguely to her face, "and I wanted to do something.”

She visibly softens and when she speaks, her voice is quiet but sure. “You’ve done a lot. I don’t think we could have gotten to Oscar Papa as quickly as we did without you helping to get his driver's name.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugs. “And anyway, I know from experience that frozen peas can sometimes be better, more comfortable, than ice.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re in pain.” He urges the bag towards her. “Now, all due respect, Captain… Take the bag.”

An amused smile forms on her face. “Is that an order, detective?”

“If that’s what works for you.”

There’s a moment before Olivia huffs out a laugh and swipes the peas from him and Velasco can’t help the triumphant smile that crosses his face. There’s a slight roll of her eyes before she presses the bag to her face. He has to bite back a laugh when a groan escapes her and her shoulders sag with relief.

“I’ll let it pass that you gave me an order, if you don’t let it get to your head that this was a good idea.”

He really does laugh then and feeling emboldened he guides her over to the couch, ignoring her protests, and gets her to sit down.

"All that tough talking you were doing and now look at ya" by @daryl-dixon-daydreams (Negan Smith x Reader)

Teaser:

"Whoooa, whoa! Okay—hey, doll. Take it easy. Negan's here," he said, kneeling down beside you. "I'm gonna help you outta here, alright?" One of your pant legs was absolutely soaked in blood and your teeth were gritted against the pain. You had a hand pressed over your thigh but blood was seeping out between your fingers alarmingly fast.

You looked up at him and your eyes were fearful and a little disbelieving to see him there. "Didn't I tell you, about two hours ago, to 'fuck off'?" you breathed.

Negan couldn't help chuckling a little despite the situation. He pulled a spare shirt from his bag and ripped a strip off. "Anything you want to take back?"

You shut your eyes and leaned back against the tree behind you. "I don't know. Let me think about it."

He smiled. "Yeah, alright. While you think about it, I'm gonna save your life, okay?"

Against the Wind by @zepskies (Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega Female!Reader)

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

Teaser:

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you’re able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can’t yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you…

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Forging A New Life by @klutzygirl (Beau x Cassie)

Summary: Beau and Cassie start building a new life once they move in together.

Teaser:

Beau dropped a box on the floor and groaned. “I hate moving,” he complained to his girlfriend.

Cassie glanced down at the box then looked back up at him. “You’re lucky there’s nothing breakable in there,” she teased.

He shrugged. “Eh, fuck it even if there was anything fragile. I don’t care anymore.” He plopped down on the couch, needing to take a break.

Cassie joined him and smiled when he wrapped his arm around her. “Moving sucks.”

The ranch was perfect so that was a point in its favor - as was the woman he loved. He and Cassie were forging a new life together - with Emily and Kai - that they hoped would last. This was a second chance at love for both of them. They didn’t intend to waste a minute of it.

Okay to Cry by @romancingromanoff (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Summary: (request) Natasha romanoff and reader? Established relationship. Reader has a really really bad day and comes home crying, doing her best to hide her tears from her girlfriend but Nat finds out anyway?

Teaser:

You wiped a couple of stray tears off on your sleeves and blinked profusely while fanning your face. Looking in the rear view mirror again you noticed that your eyes were indeed a little puffy but you could just blame it on allergies. Sighing at your predicament, you dragged your way out of your car and tried not to make too much noise fumbling with your keys at the door. You opened it as quietly as you could and stepped into the house.

“Hey, babe,” Nat’s voice came from the kitchen where you could also smell leftovers being cooked up.

“Hi!” you tried to sound like your normal chipper self but then whined at how over exaggerated that came out. She would definitely be suspicious now…

“You’re excited. Good day at work?”

“Um, yeah,” you carefully put up your coat and bag near the door so that you were facing away from your girlfriend at all times. “Addison’s birthday was today so she brought in cupcakes for everybody.”

“Ooh, those ones her boyfriend the baker does with the homemade icing?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you bring me one back?” Natasha eyed you looking up from her food and you did your best to try and just casually shrug before just naturally becoming interested in arranging the vase of flowers in the hallway. It wasn’t your worst coverup since you often went a little OCD and organized random things around the house, but you still hadn’t even looked at your girlfriend which caused her to frown in suspicion.

“Uh, no, sorry. He only made enough for everyone at work.”

“I think you’re lying,” her words pierced you with fear and you froze for a second. Trying to play it off, you fake sneezed into your elbow and then continued to take your shoes off, never looking her way.

“You’re right,” you playfully fussed back. “Sorry, I just got hungry on my way home. You know, in the traffic?”

“Y/N,” Natasha was blatantly demanding that you look her in the eyes. You cringed and took a deep breath in before putting on your best face and turning around.

Sweet Like Chocolate by @raz-writes-the-thing (Venom x Reader)

Summary: Venom's enjoys it when you're his host.

Teaser:

WE ARE NOT A BABY.

You tut and continue about making Venom’s tater tots. It hadn’t really been a genuine thought. It’s just that when you and Eddie trade Venom between you like parents trading a toddler for alone time, it kind of felt that way at times. Not that you were complaining, of course. Any time with Venom piggybacking in your head was time well spent in your own personal opinion. 

It was just a shame that you weren’t a better match. Then he could come around with you more often. But no, that was Eddie’s responsibility, it would seem. 

“I know, V- you know how human brains work. Thoughts just pop in unannounced.” 

I WILL ALLOW IT.

You chuckle and pour yourself a glass of wine. A tendril of Venom’s form spreads from your back to put the wine bottle away for you, and you thank him kindly. Checking the timer on the tots, you frown. They were going to be at least another fifteen minutes. 

“What do you want to do tonight, V?” You ask, plopping down on the lounge chair and taking a sip. 

WE WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU. 

You smile softly, and Venom chuckles in your brain in response. That took some getting used to, actually, hearing someone laugh in your mind. But like all things, you acclimated. 

“We’re doing that, buddy,” you reply.

Whiskey and Cola by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: When Y/N visits Harvelle’s, she’s not feeling her best. It isn’t until another bright-eyed hunter joins her for a drink that things start to liven up…

Teaser:

“Tell me I’m dreaming.”

Y/N gave a start and looked to her left. She hadn’t noticed that a young man had taken a seat on the stool next to her despite the line of empty spots.

She quirked a brow. “Is that your idea of a pick-up line?” she asked, unimpressed.

The man turned away from her to wave at Ellen. “Double shot of whiskey. Rocks!” he called out.

“On it!”

He turned back to Y/N and grinned. “Course’ not. I just can’t believe you ordered a can of Coke at a bar. Just making sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. You know that they sell booze here, right?”

“I like pop.”

“I can see that. Just take it easy on the sugar, something tells me you’re sweet enough,” he said with a wink.

“Dean Winchester!” Ellen exclaimed, placing an amber glass and a red can in front of the man and Y/N respectively. “Quit heckling my customers!”

“I happen to be engaging in polite conversation here, Ellen,” he said innocently. “No harm done. Oh and before you go, how bout’ you keep a couple of beers on standby for me?”

Y/N chuffed in amusement. “I’ll lay off the sugar alright,” she said. “Just as soon as you tone down on the alcohol. It’ll do a number on your liver, you know.”

He tipped his glass forwards. “Touché.”

Stolen Crown by @roonyxx & @jay-and-dean (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: What happens when she is sent in a world that isn’t hers, but with very familiar faces?

Teaser:

Her back flat against the tree, she turns her head a little to be able to see beyond the thick bark, holding her breath and reaching for the knife in her boot. 

A beautiful, massive shiny black horse is nervously stepping on the ground while the owner of the mare pats it on the neck.

“Easy girl” the man says. 

She frowns, keeping the dagger in her hand, ‘that voice… I know it.’ When she dares to look between the leaves, her eyes widen.

“Dean?” she says with a confused smile, putting the knife back in her boot, as she steps from out of the bushes.

“My Queen !” he throws his leg over the majestic black horse and steps off, right away going down on one knee in front of her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I have been looking for you, my Queen” he says towards the ground, not looking up to her once.

“Queen ?” she huffs, still a little dizzy. “Where the Hell are we, Dean ? And what the fuck are you wearing, is that… a freaking armor?” she asks, pointing at his weird clothes.

Dean finally tilts his head upwards. And when he sees her, his eyes nearly fall out of his head, his mouth is open but no words leave his lips. The more he stares at her like she was naked, the more she starts to feel a little self conscious.

His eyes slowly travel up her bare legs, a confused expression on his face, when she bends a little to make eye contact with him he quickly adverts his gaze.

“Your Majesty, what happened to your robes ? Are you harmed ?” he asks, obviously worried. 

“Cut the crap, Dean, what’s happening ? Where are we ?” she asks, annoyed.

“We are in the…” he looks around a little, apparently wondering what to answer. “In the woods… Not far from the Castle, my Queen” he says.

She stares at him, mouth agape, a deep feeling of confusion replacing the annoyance totally. Her tone changes to something colder, more distant.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘queen’ ?” she asks. “And what’s up with the stupid clothes ?”

He dares looking up at her again, a sorry frown on his face. 

“My apologies, your Highness. I do not understand… Is there something wrong with my apparel ?” he stands up, his eyes searching her face. “Did you hit your head or have you fallen maybe ? You disappeared, my Queen. I have been so worried” he turns to his horse to retrieve a big grey fur cloak. “What happened to your gown, did someone attack you ?” 

His head low, he comes closer to carefully drape the very heavy cape around her shoulders.

“I obviously failed at my duty” his eyes are dark and she clearly recognizes that crushing guilt on his features

She touches the floor length fur coat he put around her with a frown. It’s pleasantly warm outside, there is no need for this… 

Everything he does is weird, and why does he look so different ? Was he hit by a spell of some weird stuff like that time he was losing his memory ? 

Unless… 

If It's Meant To Be by @jawritter (Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!Reader)

Summary: Bad things happen to good people, that’s just the rule of thumb. But sometimes, things happen for a reason, and that reason is so you can find the person you’re meant to be with…

Teaser:

“Go away Omega,” he warned, sending a shiver down her spine at the use of her title in his voice. “You’re not safe here.”

Now, normally, that would have sent her running, screaming in the other direction. But she was nothing if she wasn’t stubborn, and fuck if he didn’t smell amazing, and the way his deep voice rolled over made her heart hammer so loud against her ribcage that she seriously thought he could probably hear it through the door. There was no way she could run now if she wanted to. The Omega had gotten his scent, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted her Alpha. Beau was her Alpha, she knew it, she just knew it. 

“Alpha, please, open the door,” she pleaded and he whined as she placed her hand on the cold silver steal of the door. “Jenny said you’ve been sick for days now. I can help. Just let me in.”

“Darlin, you don’t want to be tied to a man like me, and if you come in here, I’m not gonna be able to stop. Leave, please, while I still have the composure to let you,” he tried again, and she flinched at the rejection in his voice. 

He was standing closer to the door now, probably leaning on the other side, because she could swear that she felt the heat of his body coming through the thin steel. 

“You’re not gonna scare me off Beau,” she stated matter of factly, rooted in her own stubbornness. She never was one to give up very easily and walk away, especially not when it took all the self convincing to even come all the way out here to see him. 

“I’m not trying to scare you, I’m telling you the truth,” he growled through the door. “I’m telling you the truth. I’ve got more baggage than I can even handle on a good day. My job is dangerous, I’m more likely to die on the end of some asshole’s gun than I am to retire. I’ve got a child with another woman. I live in a goddamn tin-can that I call a trailer. I’m old enough to be your dad. I’m action packed with issues you will hopefully never see. I’ve got trust issues, and separation anxiety. I talk to fucking much. I promise you Omega, you don’t want me. No one does.”

Y/N leaned her forehead against the cold door, and closed her eyes to fight against the sudden pit that had begun to form in the pit of her stomach. His scent had changed to an almost sour, oppressively sad scent that could have been suffocating, and it told her that he believed every word that had just come out of his mouth. It made her heart ache for him.

Marry me in the battlefield by @herstarburststories (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean decides to propose you in the midst of a hunt.

Teaser:

The surprise stokes him when he recognizes them on your face, moonlight shinning on you as if its only mission is to give you light to search in the dark for more monsters. Lisa understood job, but you understand what exactly comes with it. Not only the anxiety, not having a home for too long, or the fact that there are guns hidding in every inch of places you stay for a couple hours.

You understand the thrill, the necessity to keep going, how the blood in your hands is never going to be washed, so you might as well make it worth it.

And you smile. You smile as if it was a romantic date and you couldn’t wait to kiss him. You smile as if this is a good routine. You smile as if you are excited to crumble into a random restaurant and eat food that will kill you from inside.

And Dean knows you mean all of it. You want this life, you want him. You love how it goes.

Therefore, it’s no shock when the words leave his lips, “Marry me.”

Sam stops on his tracks, holding a vampire’s head as a football ball; he is surprised, and so are you. Ok, this specific moment might be unsettling for normal people, but what would be more fitting than that for you two?

You frowned, unsure of your own ears, “What?”

“I said, marry me.”

Love On the 26th Floor by @wayward-dreamer (Dean Smith x Reader)

Summary: Y/N has been working as a personal assistant to the successful CEO of Smith Construction Co, for just a few weeks. It may not be her field of expertise, but she needs this job to pay off her student loans and live her life as she tackles a part-time Masters degree at the same time. She finds her boss Dean Smith incredibly intimidating and insanely attractive; but an office fling is the last thing she needs, especially with her employer. But you can only avoid temptation for so long…

Teaser:

“Congratulations to Y/N, on her new job at Smith Construction!”

Y/N and her friends clinked their glasses of champagne together, cheering for her as the loud chatter of the bar continued around them. Y/N sipped the sparkling liquid, smiling at her friends.

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping her arm around Annie, who had just given the toast.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be working for Dean Smith,” Emma exclaimed from across the table. “He’s so fucking gorgeous!”

“You get to look at his face any time you want,” Annie said, smirking.

“And maybe even do something else,” Emma suggested, wagging her eyebrows. The girls laughed, but Y/N didn’t join in.

“Guys, come on. I’m not going to sleep with my boss. I need this job and I’m grateful he even gave it to me. So, drop it. Okay?” she told them, looking between both her friends, an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, Y/N. We were only joking,” Emma muttered, a sheepish look gracing her face.

“It’s okay, let’s just forget about it.” Y/N took another sip of her drink, before picking up the menu from the table. “Alright, what’re we eating?”

As her friends continued to decide what they wanted, Y/N’s mind pondered over what they had just talked about. Dean Smith had absolutely had an effect on her, and she knew how hard it was going to be to work for him now. However, no matter what happened, she couldn’t give into the thoughts she was having about him. As much as she wanted him to rip her clothes off and bend her over his desk, she couldn’t let it happen.

She needed this job, and she was determined to keep it.

Too Close To Gone by @jawritter (Huntercorp!Dean x Reader)

Summary: Dean’s been gone for a year. You have been gone from the Bunker for just about as long. When you finally get the guts to go back “home” after leaving, someone you never thought you’d see again stumbles into your life, and now you have to figure out how to move on with a constant reminder of what you’ve lost following you around in the flesh.

Teaser:

Slowly, you peek around the wall, and stop in your tracks, nearly  dropping your gun at the sight that was waiting for you. 

At first, you were  in utter shock at seeing Dean’s face, albeit battered and more than a little banged up, but it was his face. His eyes stared bewildered back at you as he raised his hands slowly, using the sidewall of the building to brace himself. 

Once the shock faded, anger took its place. You fired a shot at the ground close to the creature’s feet before you even realized what you were doing. The damn idiot just sank to the ground and covered it’s face. 

How could this creature, whatever the fuck it was dare put on your dead boyfriend’s face. How dare it imitate him. You were going to destroy it, whatever it took. 

“Y/N! Please, it’s me! It’s Dean!” It yelled at you from it’s cowered position on the ground as you fired off another round, this time one much closer  than the previous one that had landed in the dirt. You hadn’t intended to taunt the creature, but whatever the fuck it was that was trying to act like he was your Dean, that shit  wasn’t going to fly. 

Tears were rolling down your face in  anger. You had never been so sick. So angry. The last time you had seen that face was when you had spent hours washing off the blood that had dripped from his lips, and you wrapped him up so carefully to be burned. Now, it was calling your name a damn look alike? You couldn’t think. All you could see was red. 

“Don’t you fucking dare imitate Dean, you sick son of a bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you, you understand me. You’re going to fucking die. Dean is dead. I buried his ashes myself, and you’re going to come here and try to act like him! After you sons of bitches took him from me!”

This time you sent a round straight to it’s thigh muscle, and it screamed in pain, it’s voice an exact echo of what Dean’s had been. It was silver bullets in the gun, a devil’s trap carved into the blunt tip of the bullet. If it was a werewolf you would have gotten a hell of a lot more than a scream, and if it was a demon it wouldn’t be able to try and roll away from you like it was doing. Silver would have proved it a shifter too, but something wasn’t right.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m not imitating Dean. I am Dean goddammit! From the other world! The one Chuck destroyed! Remember? You were there when my brother Sam and I left  here!”

You froze on the spot, completely unable to move. 

Meet Cute by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader)

Summary: Reader is surviving in the apocalypse alone, until she meets a stranger who needs her help, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. This is a reimagining of when Daryl gets hurt trying to find Sophia in Season 2, in which the reader shoots Daryl instead of Andrea. This can be read as stand alone, but can also be read as a prequel fic to “Your Fault,” describing how reader and Daryl met for the first time.

Teaser:

You hear a strange sound behind you and as turn around, bag in hand, you notice that the man isn't on the ground anymore. He's standing, crossbow drawn, pointed directly at your chest.

Great.

"Where the hell am I?" The man growls.

Your chest tightens in fear. By the time I reach for my gun he’ll shoot me.

"It’s okay." You force the tremor from your voice, trying your best not to look frightened. The bag drops to the ground  and you hold up your hands in front of you in a gesture of surrender. "You're at my cabin. You're safe."

"Why?" His eyes narrow as he takes another step forward.

This was such a bad idea.

The One That Got Away by @justwhisperingfantasies (Jensen Ackles x Reader)

Summary: You thought you had left Supernatural and Jensen in the past, but almost 6 years later you get roped back in when your job is on the line.

Teaser:

“I don’t think I can do this.” A nervous Jensen admitted walking up to the curtain on the stage between you and Jared.

“Jay, you got this,” Jared assured him.

Jensen took a deep breath. “Did you get the seat?” He looked over to you.

“Yes, I’ll be right in front of you. When you get nervous or overwhelmed just look down and I’ll flash you or something.”

Jensen let out a laugh lifting his face.

“Um, (y/n) I’m feeling a bit nervous too. “ Jared professed

You and Jensen glared at him. “I think you’ll be alright.” You told him walking over to the  stage entrance

“You guys got this.” You kissed Jensen on the cheek. “I love you both.” You then kissed Jared on the cheek. “Have fun!!” You said as you turned to walk away.

“Love you too.” They said at the same time. You could hear the boys talking, but you couldn’t make out the words.

Lily was standing by the wall. She started walking with you as you passed. “Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?” You rolled your eyes and looked back at Jensen.  He blew you a kiss and mouthed thank you. You nodded and gave him a smile.

“Probably not.” You said facing forward and continuing walking.

Princess Treatment by @storiesofsvu (Terry Bruno x Reader x Joe Velasco)

Teaser:

You tugged your lip into your mouth, glancing toward the bathroom once again and were just about to slip your fingers into the waist band of your shorts when a beep echoed from the door and you nearly jumped, reaching out for your cocktail again.

“Hey.” Joe flashed a tired smile in your direction as he let the door fall shut behind him, already tugging the shirt off his body to toss in the direction of his bag. He stalled slightly, glancing back to you as his hands came to his belt buckle, “you mind?”

“Huh?” You barely pulled your eyes away from the television and he chuckled.

“Who am I kidding, you’re already in your underwear.” Another couple of seconds and he was stripped down to his briefs, wandering to the mini fridge to grab a beer while you drained the rest of your cocktail. He looked up at the sound of your straw scraping the bottom of the glass combined with a muffled noise he couldn’t quite make out, “what?”

“Neighbour’s got company.” You explained, nodding your head toward the wall.

“Great.” He muttered, grabbing a beer, “you want one?”

“Please.”

He tossed you the chilled can before retreated to the other bed, dropping against it and you couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as he rolled the can against his neck to help cool down as he settled in. Right as he cracked open the beer there was a rather loud moan from the other side of the wall, followed by the sound of a spank and an even louder noise from the woman. An exaggerated chain of swears and moans began to come through the wall and Jose chuckled.

“Someone’s enjoying themselves.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, “she’s showing off.”

“Yeah?” He raised a brow in your direction and you rolled your eyes.

“Yes.”

On the other side of the room the shower finally came to a stop, Terry stepping out wrapped in a towel a few minutes later. He was about to greet the two of you when the bedframe from the other room began colliding with the wall, the woman’s wails nowhere near natural and he huffed.

“Are they seriously still going at it?”

“Still?!” You whined, “it sounded like they just started.”

The banging on the wall increased, louder with each hit and you barely had time to wince before Terry pounded against the shared wall with his fist. Silence overtook the room for a couple of seconds, followed by muffled laughter until the moans started up again.

“Looks like no one’s getting any sleep tonight.” Bruno groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Great.” You muttered, taking a swig of your beer.

Stoking the Flame by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior (Beau Arlen x Jenny Hoyt)

Summary: Jenny and Beau have been ignoring the spark between them for a long time. How much longer can they continue?

Teaser:

It had been there from day one.

Under the cover of antagonism and teasing, behind the barriers of obligations and professionalism, there had burned the embers of a fire she knew would quickly flare to life if they ever dared to stoke the flames for even a moment.

Beau broke their locked gaze, as he usually did, looking away into the fire. But he squeezed her knee gently, letting her know without words that he wasn't pulling away completely.

She leaned into him a little closer and laid her head on his wide shoulder, his jacket slightly rough beneath her cheek. He kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek against it.

They stayed that way for a while, knowing that they could continue on like this, simply giving each other comfort and staring into the flames; they wouldn't be going any further, they wouldn't be risking anything, they could still make believe they were just partners, just friends.

They could stay like this and stay safe.

But as though by silent, simultaneous agreement they pulled out of the easy embrace, turning to look at one another. Their gazes connected again and Jenny knew Beau wasn't leaving tonight.

Oh, and before I forget…

Thank you!!! 💕💕

all dividers by @saradika-graphics

[hiddenxrituals]

"Yale!" Scout flushed deeply, wishing he could just bury his face in her neck. There was no denying their sexual chemistry, but when they were no longer in the bedroom, Scout was very shy when it seemed like Yale was incredibly brazen. "You really know how to make a guy blush." He liked the way her body felt against his, and he sighed softly as she pressed into him. "I try to socialize with others. I just feel old, awkward and uncool. Maybe I should dye my hair or something." He gave her a very soft look when she mentioned missing him on tour; it was nice. He didn't think he'd make much of an impact on anyone's life to be missed. "It's sweet. I'll be missing you like crazy, too." The kiss caused Scout to pull her even closer, a low moan escaping his throat as she pulled back. "Mm; no. I was making us some omelets with sausage and veggies."

"i do my best not to gag around you unless it's for sex reasons," yale teased, a mischievous smile forming, but disappearing shortly after it appeared. she had to remind herself that it was okay to have a conversation without making some sort of sexual innuendo. but as scout finally turned to face her, yale stood up straight as he wrapped his arms around her, her body flush against his as she looped her arms around his neck. "well, good, because i want you to be part of it. and eventually you'll get to know all the people i surround myself with, and you'll have no excuse but to socialize with them. as for tour, there are at least ways that we can communicate daily so i don't have to miss you constantly, even if i hate admitting that's what'll happen." standing on her toes, yale pressed a slow, needy kiss to scout's lips, lingering there for a long moment before she pulled back just enough to speak. "did you ever tell me what you're making me for breakfast?"

[naetles]

[n1ghtwr1ter]

At the end of my latest TLT reread and it’s been physically painful attempting to read the last 40+ pages of Nona. Like, the short shrift that Gideon/Kiriona gets given by the people in the story…the theoretical good guys who honestly only see her as a thing, as a means to an end with an inconvenient dead soul attached to it… It makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest.

Nobody has cared about Gideon her whole life. Most people, in fact, if they remembered about her at all, went out of their way to tell her how much they wished she didn’t exist. In the final chapters of Gideon, she finally gets the thing she’s been desperate for her whole life: somebody telling her that they need her, they care that she exists, and they badly want her to go on doing it. This allows her to make peace with the prospect that at the ripe old age of 18, she needs to die so that that person can go on living and living and living, using the castrated remnants of her soul as fuel to do so. Not a great way to go, but at least Gideon would get to be useful to somebody, would get to be remembered for something.

And then she wakes up in the wrong body, and finds out that her sacrifice - her attempt to be useful in the most selfless way possible, in that her self will no longer exist - has been rejected. And not only that, but the person she tried to give herself to - the one who was supposed to care about her - went to extreme lengths to make completely sure that she no longer remembered about Gideon.

She literally cut Gideon out of her brain.

And now, drifting along in the worst sort of half life where she’s inhabiting her body but it’s no longer really hers, in very obvious fashion - there’s holes in it, her heart is missing, and it’s got her shitty father’s handprints all over it (not even touching how much of a violation that is), indelibly - she finally meets back up with the small group of people who could theoretically be relied upon to be glad to see her again.

But then the one who was supposed to care about her most tries to kiss her (massively OOC for Harrow), and turns out to not even be there - it’s some weird baby inhabiting her body, and doing a really shit job of it too. The rest of them won’t stop talking about how they need her to break into the Tomb - as if she was just another key, same as the ones they worked together to acquire in Canaan House, just bigger and more inconvenient - and/or how they both fucked and killed her mom, who also (surprise, surprise) wished that Gideon had never existed, but saw her as a thing that needed to be done for the good of the mission.

Ultimately, they all make it abundantly clear - Palamedes, Camilla, Pyrrha, and especially Nona, all these people who are supposed to be kind and good and right - that they would prefer she wasn’t there. That it just be her body, with no Gideon attached - at least not Gideon the way she is now, broken and rejected and miserable. They would all far have preferred that she not have her own inconvenient thoughts and feelings and desires and impulses - that she just be inanimate and let the important people, the grown ups, get things done.

They wish she didn’t exist. Same as everybody else in her life, save one, and now she’s left wondering whether Harrow really meant it at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have left Gideon to Kiriona’s fate.

And honestly? Really, truly? I know everybody in the fandom loves Pal and Cam and Nona and Pyrrha, but in the end I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. They are fucking side characters, and as intriguing as Nona has been from a worldbuilding standpoint, I ultimately resent having been forced to read 400+ pages of filler bullshit about fucking side characters. I am a butch, and I’m here for my sarcastic, loving, angry, vulnerable, forgiving, and yes, inconvenient sword butch. I’m here for Gideon. But Gideon has been fridged for the last two books of the series in which she is supposed to be a, if not the, main character.

And it feels like almost nobody else in the fandom feels the same way, which, fine. I’m used to that. I’m also used to being told I’m projecting; and I’m used to being told that I’m inconvenient too, in my thoughts and my opinions and the mere fact of my existence. I spent the first eighteen years of my life being told I was inconvenient. Yet another point of overidentification with Gideon.

But in case anybody still thinks that Nona proves that Gideon was an asshole all along, think about all of the above. Think about how it would make you feel to come back from not just death but from the erasure of your existence, something you chose in order to save the life of someone you loved, and be told that you’re inconvenient. Think about how you’d feel if you’d been told all your life that it would be better for everyone if you didn’t exist. And then tell me that Kiriona isn’t in the right and that I should give a rat’s ass what happens to literally anybody else.

It’s Kiriona Hours up in this House, butches. We’ve spent long enough caring about people who would prefer we weren’t around. For once in our entire lives we were told we were important; we were told we mattered; we were told we were the main character. We were going to, if not get the girl and save the world, at least get to do something real, something important, something like being the hero.

But that’s over now; we’re back to being wrong and bad and inconvenient thanks to the simple fact of our existence. So it’s time to embrace it. Let’s be a little shit. Let’s be kind of a dick. Let’s have our own agenda, let’s play our cards close to our heartless chest, let’s allow our circle of empathy to contract to ourselves and maybe one more person. That’s where I’m at right now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

[kiwibirbkat]

I love that basically the entire Amphibia fandom collectively agreed Anne was trans.

Were there hints in the show? No.

Was this revealed after the finale? Not to my knowledge.

We just all agreed that this teenager is trans coded as shit and nobody questioned it

[sapphosremains]

Okay, so firstly I think I ought to clarify some terms a little because they overlap. So if I assume that you're responding to my post in the way I meant it, you would be suggesting that non-Christian theologians couldn't publish things because they didn't believe them religiously, and I'll assume that's not what you meant and there's just been overlap of terms, as you seem like a nice person and I've followed you for a while. I believe it academically, as I'm sure all theologians who publish work believe academically in their work, but I think it's wrong to expect people to believe things religiously.

Secondly, of course what you write and publish matters and affects people. I hope that very few people think they can publish what they want with no effects. However, at the end of the day, these people exist, and, also, people publish bad theology. It happens. I won't make a judgement on what's bad theology, as no one can do that objectively, and I'm sure many people think my theology is bad theology, but you get my point. However, as far as academics should be responsible for what they put out in print, pastors who, as you were saying, are trained in theology, have the responsibility to choose what they preach from the pulpit. If they do not think critically enough to believe everything that is published and think that all of it is suitable for a congregation (especially when much of academic theology is so incredibly different to preaching material), that's on them. It is not a theologian's job to anticipate that a pastor may preach their research, because research is precisely what it is.

Following on from that - your point on why people do theology. And again I think our different experiences with academic theology (yours in seminary, mine in university) play into this. I can understand your perspective on not understanding seminarians publishing work they don't believe in, but again, this strictly academic theology is a completely different field. In my course, we learn about, think critically about, and write critically about, the theology of a variety of religions, despite not believing them. So what is the point of doing theology? I think a number of different things:

Yes, actually, to further the academic field. In the same way historians research and write and publish and work together to get a more accurate view of history, and chemists research and write and publish to further the field of chemistry, I write and publish theology to further the field of theology. To contribute to a better understanding in different aspects of the field.

Also, because we do care about the effects and the real people involved. There's an excellent bit in Phyllis Trible's foreword to Terror in the Bible where she explains how researching and presenting bits of the Bible that were painful, and sexist, and traumatic actually really spoke to victims of similar things. My Cozbi essay was really important to me and others as it examined where common translations obscured the true violence and sexism of the event, and how her race and gender play into it. I think that's important. I wrote my icons essay because I wanted to combat the idea that icons are forbidden in the Church of England, thereby providing support for people that find them useful.

And yes, for the sake of it. Because it's interesting, and exciting, and academically rigorous. Because it's challenging. Because we love doing theology, whatever that means.

If we only do theology because we believe it, we miss out incredible opportunities to engage with people we disagree with (which is really, really important), and to understand other religions. If we only do theology because we believe it, if believing something is our starting point for doing theology, I think we'd see very little progress in both theology and religion. It also makes us incredibly biased, and makes it difficult to engage with people who disagree with us. I don't think not believing religiously in something you write makes it pointless, I think it makes it personally challenging, which is a good thing.

Should we all publish the most ridiculous things possible to prove a point? No, absolutely not, and I seriously hope no one is suggesting this. But you do not have to believe something religiously to believe it or support it academically.

Also, I think the distinction between liberal and progressive is really important here - it's on my page somewhere.

"Anyway. I just wanted to add in the perspective of someone who genuinely agrees with what I write, because I believe that my work matters. Especially as a queer person doing queer theology, I need to be up front and genuine about my sincere belief in what I write. It's important. The work of theology is important to me, and I (and many other theologians) believe that it is my duty to perform that work responsibly."

I don't like the implication here that I, and other academics, don't believe our work matters, or that we don't think theology is important, or we aren't responsible.

Maybe there are some. I don't know. But I know that I personally, and all other academics I have engaged with, believe our work matters and has an impact, and theology is important. Theology has been a driving factor in fighting against slavery, subordination of women, racism, sexism, homophobia, and a whole list of other injustices. I will always, always argue that theology is important. You won't catch me agreeing with Richard Dawkins on this!! I do feel responsible for my work. But some really incredible Christian theologians have been non-Christian, and I'm sure the same is true of other religions.

Some theology is religious. Some is as objective as it can be. Most is probably a mix of both. And, I think some theology is pretty much impossible to religiously believe. For example, Harriet Lutzky's work analysing the name of Cozbi (https://www.jstor.org/stable/1535280) is so interesting, and academically compelling, and I believe it academically, but it is not something to be religiously believed or not believed. How would I go about incorporating that into my religious beliefs? This is what makes me think that we're not discussing the same theology, or the same type of belief, so I hope we've just misinterpreted each other!

Anyway, hope this makes sense and best wishes to you and your seminary work :)

“i love it theologically but in my personal religion idk how it makes me feel. this is actually a super common phenomenon - christian theologians are often very liberal in their theology and more conservative in their own religion.” Can you please please please talk more about this distinction????

Of COURSE! I’m still trying to find where I got this fact but I always have like 10 books on the go not including journal articles etc so I have a lot to dig through! So firstly, it’s quite an important distinction. There is a massive overlap between theology and religion, and exploring theology naturally impacts one’s own religious beliefs, and vice versa, therefore it’s not a hard line per say. However, it is crucial that theologians can have some separation. For example, one of the first questions they asked me in a certain unnamed university interview that you’re not meant to give any details about picked up on this. I was given a few passages taken from different religious traditions, and we discussed their similarities and differences. A little into the conversation, they told me that the passages had been written sequentially, with each a few hundred years after another, and asked “Could the later ones possibly have been inspired by the earlier one?” One of the later passages was taken from the New Testament, with this question carrying the suggestion that an author in the NT had been inspired by Ancient Greek mythology. If you’re answering that from a religious perspective, no, absolutely not! This is where they start to separate. 

A good part of theology requires looking at religious texts as a piece of literature. In my Extended Essay for IB I wrote about Cozbi, and a significant chunk of my work looked at word choice in a variety of translations, including the original Hebrew. This meant looking at how she had been named (Cozbi was probably not her real name - it means ‘to lie’ and ‘lies’, and the Akkadian equivalent of her name, ‘kuzbu’, means ‘voluptuousness’, ‘sexually vigorous’, and is a euphemism for genitals) to convey a message, and the use of grammar and vocabulary in order to pin the blame on her as opposed to the Israelite man Zimri. So in this, I’m looking at the Bible as literature, and making arguments which are quite tricky to make from a Christian standpoint - to look at my religious text and say ‘The author of this text has chosen these words to manipulate the reader’, when in my Christian head, the author of the text is God (as discussed in earlier posts, expressed by humans). So, I think that interview question aimed to very quickly sort out those who are not able to have that distinction. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it would make it very difficult to study Theology, and be taught Theology, I think.

But this distinction is where the liberal theology vs conservative religion comes in. My argument in my Cozbi essay, that the Bible deliberately uses women as plot devices and scapegoats, is liberal, and, honestly, not something I really want to believe! And arguing something academically, especially in the field of Theology, doesn’t necessarily mean you have to believe it. If you’re arguing something in Chemistry, that’s a bit different! Do I think my Cozbi essay is academically compelling? Yes. I am academically persuaded by it. Do I believe it religiously? Do I think that’s what God’s word is really trying to say? No. Do I think my icons essay is academically compelling? Yes. Do I think it justifies the use of icons in the Church of England? Yes. Would I have icons without it? Also yes. Writing that essay, although informative, did not alter my personal religious beliefs.

I think there’s also this weird overlap in the Tumblr-Christian-Theology little niche that you and I like to sit in. You do it much better than me. Your theological arguments persuade me, and I do think I often believe them religiously. However, my theological arguments aren’t meant to do that. Mine are often purely academic. This also links back to a post you made a few months ago that I wanted to talk about but didn’t have the words for. You talked about not liking people distinguishing between ‘theologies’ ie ‘feminist theology’ ‘liberation theology’ etc etc. And I agree and disagree, once more based on this distinction. If ‘theology’ is your personal theology, what you believe about God and religion, then yes, this idea of ‘feminist theology’ is really weird. However, when I say I’m a ‘feminist theologian’ or I’m interested in ‘liberation theology’, I mean I am interested in the niche in the academic subject Theology that belongs to ‘feminist theology’ or ‘liberation theology’.

So, why are Christian theologians often more liberal in their academic theology and more conservative in their personal religion? I think because we’re not compelled to believe it. You can try out ideas, and argue for them, and find evidence to support them, but none of this means you have to believe it. This gives Christians the space to figure out ideas that they may not agree with religiously, or might get push back from their religious community, in an academic sphere.

[Throwback to this great conversation with my (LDS) coursework supervisor:

Her: *finishes reading coursework* Oh no, you can’t submit this. I hate it, I really disagree.

Me: Oh gosh, sorry! Which arguments are the weakest?

Her: Huh? Oh, no, all your arguments are really strong. I can’t pick holes in them.

Me: Oh, that’s good. How can I improve it then? What’s wrong with it?

Her: I really disagree with it.

Me: That’s… that’s fine… You don’t need to agree with it.]

Also, I think it’s a lot easier to be liberal hypothetically! And academics can argue whatever they want. You could put a claim I hated in front of me and I could still defend and support it just as strongly as something I agreed with. Also, there’s less responsibility. If you’re consciously publishing a religious opinion in a religious space, that’s something people might take away and believe, which comes with an element of danger! Obviously you don’t have control over how people use your academic work, they might well go away and incorporate it into their religious beliefs, but that likelihood is lower, so this throwing out of ideas and ‘what if God meant this’ and ‘what if Paul meant this’ is a little safer, and comes with the understanding that it’s not necessarily your belief or a belief you endorse! 

Anyway yes this was actually a very difficult question to answer and, despite it being true of me, I don’t really know! But this is an attempt for now, and I’ll come back to it after I’ve done some more Theology!! Definitely next academic year after I’ve done some uni :))

[somebluemelodies]

SPIDERBIT WEEK hosted by @smallchaoscryptid !! day six: coffee | nautical IM FINALLY BACK !! i know mer au won my poll from a while back so this is kinda a double whammy? spiderbit week AND poll fic :D

For a while, Roier wonders if he’s ever gonna see the deepsea mer ever again. When he doesn’t see him the night after their initial meeting, he’s worried that the Feds may have gotten to the mer after all, and it pains him more than he cares to admit aloud.

But it’s not the last time. In fact, it happens multiple times, to the point where they have a weird schedule of sorts to meet every third day or so.

Communicating isn’t the easiest, with only Roier able to actually talk, but they make do, and he’s getting a real good hold of asking ‘yes or no’ questions or anything else that permits him to learn more about the deepsea mer.

Except for one thing. The mer’s name.

The mer can understand nearly everything Roier says, but he can’t write it. He can only write in his own strange mer-tongue, which is a series of characters that sends the pirate into a deeper confusion the more he tries to make sense of it.

For a little while, Roier contemplates giving the merman a name himself, but that feels a little unfair to the mer. He has a name, after all.

However, his mouth running faster than his mind produces a nickname, gatinho, as a result of staring at the mer for a little too long and getting lost in his eyes. Thankfully, though, the mer doesn’t seem to mind it, and Roier even swears it makes the creature blush. But that sounds like crazy talk, so he tries not to dwell on it.

Nevertheless, the nickname stays. If only because it’s… well… the truth.

(Mostly. He’s a mer, not a cat. Scales and no legs, not fur and four legs.)

(But God, if he isn’t the prettiest being Roier has ever seen.)

A couple weeks or so after their first initial meeting, Roier is sitting on the flattest rock closest to the water, the mer half out of the water in front of him with his arms resting on the rock. A routine, of sorts. Either here, or the cave.

“So, gatinho,” the pirate starts. “I need to figure out your name. We have to find some way. Because I can’t keep calling you gatinho forever.”

(But he’d certainly like to.)

The deepsea mer tilts his head slightly and shrugs, as if to say, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“What? You like the name, huh?”

A pause, followed by a slow nod. Roier grins. “No mames, wey, this guy likes being called pretty. Like a cat. Are you sure you’re not a cat? I think you’re a cat in disguise.”

The mer looks borderline offended, trying to reach over and slap him. But the pirate pushes back, out of reach, smile growing with a laugh. “You’re swatting like a cat! Holy shit, man, I was right. I’m friends with a fucking cat. A catfish. No mames.”

There’s a growl of sorts from the merman, who definitely looks like he’s blushing now - focus, focus, focus, stop looking at him like that - and shoots up out of the water before Roier has a chance to properly react.

Next thing he knows, he’s flat on his back against the rock, and there’s a solid weight on top of him, two almost-glowing blue eyes staring him down.

(A small part of Roier wonders if he should be afraid right now. He’s seen the sharp teeth and fingers. This mer could theoretically kill him in a heartbeat. Right here, right now.)

(But he’s not afraid, God only knows why. No, he’s… no, no. Enough.)

Roier tries to mask the way his cheeks are rapidly warming up with an accomplished, shit-eating laugh. “Calma, gatinho, calma.”

The deepsea mer huffs, shaking his head before a small smile crosses his face despite himself. He leans down to really shove Roier’s shoulder, but makes no effort yet to get off.

(Not that Roier minds.)

More laughter, and then a lull, and their eyes meet again. Roier becomes acutely aware of just how close they actually are. The mer is staring at him in a way he can’t quite decipher, and it makes him increasingly nervous.

(A look of wonder. Awe.)

(The mer sees the same exact look in those dark eyes.)

The pirate tries to play it off, like his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest and like his thoughts aren’t circling around the fact that if he sits up enough, their lips could brush. Connect. “See something you like, gatinho?”

The mer also seems to finally realize their current position, and with wide eyes, pushes himself off and all but dives back into the water. Roier kicks himself in the ass for mourning the loss of contact.

For a few moments, as the merman doesn’t surface, he wonders if he’s fled for the night, and starts to feel a little guilty for his teasing.

But then there’s movement, and he watches the deepsea mer breach the surface again, blowing out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.”

The mer shakes his head. It’s okay.

(He did see something he liked.)

"Roier!"

The pirate's head whips around, seeing a silhouette in the far distance.

"Oh, shit-- that's Jaiden. I gotta go." He turns back to the mer. "Three days? And I will learn your name, gatinho."

The deepsea mer nods, and three things happen in succession.

One. The mer leaves him a piece of sea glass, a red one.

Two. He hesitates, then hoists himself onto the rock to press a kiss to Roier's cheek.

Three. He dives back into the water without looking back, disappearing in a fleeting glint of deep emerald and leaving Roier to touch his cheek in surprise.

"Roier!" Jaiden calls again, running over to him. "There you are! What're you doing out here?"

Roier clears his throat, willing his cheeks to cool down despite the darkness surrounding them. His best friend was eerily observant sometimes. "I was just... collecting sea glass. See? Look at this piece I found!" He picks up the piece, standing up to show her.

Jaiden looks at it before back to him, her brow quirking ever-so-slightly. "O...kay? Since when do you do that?"

"It's given me something to do recently."

She studies him another moment, trying to decipher the truth. If she doesn't believe him, she doesn't say it. Instead, she says, "fair. But I came to bring you back to the ship, c'mon."

They walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, until she speaks up again. "Y'know, I haven't seen much sea glass around here. You must have some awfully good luck; I see the little pile on the box beside your hammock."

Roier opens his hand, looking at the translucent red treasure as icy eyes infiltrate his mind, the ghost of lips warming his cheek. "Sí. Something like that."