#i show up every blue moon with 2k words and then i’m GONE

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Marie Presley, interview for Rolling Stone Magazine, 1997, introducing her film TLC: The Presley Way

A Sarge & lil Mama blurb, 2nd generation: Marie. word count 2k, PG rating, mentions of divorce

Marie: “You know, I’m used to being asked how it impacted me being the child with the least ‘parental involvement.’ But I really don’t get it, not even when my siblings joke that Elvis was more like Santa to me than dad, a merry-making stranger who showed up once in a blue moon to spread love and cheer before rushing back to the workshop to make more goodies the rest of the year.

“Maybe there’s some truth in that but how was I to know? I didn’t know anything differently than what I had, just like lots of kids you don’t know what else you could’ve had, just like I didn’t know anything different from being very privileged, um, just as my dad didn’t know any different from being very poor.

“But what I do know is that I was very loved, I have been my whole life, and what I have are a treasure trove of memories, extensive amounts of time spent with him at all ages. I look at it this way, we wouldn’t say someone is fatherless just because their dad is gone every day of their life from seven in the morning to six in the evening, that’s a whole lotta time to be gone.

“Whereas I had months on end where I saw Dad from sunup to sundown, slept in my parents bed, ate and played and read with them. Spent time on homework and perhaps most personally impactful, I had my own interests nurtured by them. Dad spoiled me, there’s no question about it, but it wasn’t in the way of rich men giving their kids toys and telling them to then run along, leave them alone.

“Dad engaged with me on everything and anything interesting to me, anything that interested my siblings he would spend hours on it, not even the fun part of say -photography. But the boring details, too. If there was a new camera he would get it for me and together we could figure out how to make it work, how to develop the film, how to get the perfect exposure.

“We’d pour over artists' work and do our best to mimic them. It was play but it was always constructive, and when I think back on those late Vegas afternoons that were his mornings, that he would spend tirelessly engaged with me and my siblings, only to then have to go out and perform multiple times into the night, the adult in me is exhausted and grateful that he took the time. That he did it all so cheerfully that I had no idea how worn out he was.

“The divorce years were hard, I was an eight year old and definitely attuned to the different dynamics in my family. I was very close with my sister Ella who was extremely unhappy at the time, maybe more so than most of my siblings. So her discontent rubbed off on me a little, confused me. But for the most part I didn’t notice a big change, mom and daddy really tried to keep it under wraps, multiple times they insisted there wasn’t a team to pick, and maybe that was too nuanced for the older kids but I got it, I chose not to pick teams.

And before it had lasted very long, we were all back together again.

“Daddy didn’t have a tour, what with Colonel Parker being under investigation, and he stayed home because of Danny, and Daisy and then they got remarried. It was a blip for me really. I got to live with Ella, I got to travel around with Jesse and dad, I got to visit Rosalee out at college. It seemed more like a vacation bouncing than banishment. I was really fine with it, maybe I’m just built that way, it wasn’t as devastating as it might’ve been for another child.

“I do remember my ninth birthday being the single bummer of it all. Or at least, the day started off going decidedly down hill.

“I was the baby who made it after the tragedy of them losing Jo, and you beat believe dad always made a huge deal of my birthday. He’d always tickle the Angel kisses on the back of my neck and remind everyone how Jo and Gladys sent me, mama would recount the story of my birth and my siblings would recall how they laid hands on mama’s belly and prayed I’d come out safe every day for eight months before I was born.

So after nine years of this, when I came downstairs in ‘77 to find that the earth and divorce proceedings hadn’t screeched to a stop just to celebrate me, I was pretty miffed.

I remember just feeling like the vibes were really off at the house, even though dad had come back to celebrate, it was obvious he was very upset with mom. I remember Jesse took me riding on his bike that day, we got out of the house and had fun and I remember when he put me on it, mom and dad were in a deep discussion on the porch, apparently about the fact that I was having a meltdown over not being treated special enough. I've already admitted I was very spoiled, OK folks?

“But the real big thing for me was that by the time I came back from that ride and opened my presents and we ate dinner, things seemed perfectly fine, normal and natural. That night we went through our usual routine and I climbed in the bed with mom and dad like old times. Now that I think about it, that was probably the first time in months that they slept together, and they did that for me. And they did it so naturally and it was really a happy evening, even for them, I think.

“It’s funny how professional you can get at getting along when you’ve had to endure so much like they had, one night of harmony in the middle of a divorce wasn’t a big hurdle for them. There was so much love still there and so much practice, just a lotta confusion. You can see why I wasn’t very surprised when Mama showed up with a baby and a wedding band back on her finger. It might sound bizarre to outsiders, and it’s certainly been portrayed like that by some of our closest friends, but in this film I’d like to set the record straight. It’s what I saw lived out.

Love can be very chaotic sometimes, complex and bizarre but it tries its best. It seeks the good of others. It’s the catalyst for great things and produces generous hearts. And my family certainly did just that.”

Thanks for letting me bug ya with a blurb, and slowly but surely I’m putting faces to the kids, and their stories too. So much thanks goes to my girlies who hash this out with my for hours on end in the chats. The chats are the new trenches, ok? It’s where ya make your Bestest buddies.

@paradsol000

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@prompted-wordsmith

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#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #sarge blurbs #blurbs #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fan fic #elvis presley fanfic

[hpkinktober]

Almost a month after HP Kinktober ended, I have finally created a complete masterlist of the wonderful Drarry works we were gifted with from this astoundingly creative community. Since I am only human, please let me know if anything is wrong with this post (broken link, mispelled author name, etc). 

Day 1: Foreplay 

Love Me Like Red Wine by @triggerlil​ (M, 290) 

Harry prepares a meal, but Draco can't focus on the food. It's not his fault that Harry's so damn attractive.

Foreplay by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100)

In which Draco wears sky-blue, lacy bikini knickers. 

Kiss Him All the Way Up by @chuckweasley​ (M, Digital Art) 

Is Harry into feet? Does he want to kiss Draco on every square inch of his body? Is he kissing a trail from his toes up? You decide!

Water Spirit by @laurisophi​ (E, 703) 

Harry wants to surprise Draco for their anniversary and show more of himself.

"You look like a lake spirit, bath by the moon, covered in green.” He kisses your shoulder and one hand slides over your back, your side, your hip.

A ficlet for the first day of HP Kinktober 2020: foreplay.

Day 2: Instant Darkness Powder 

Under the Cover of Darkness by @manixzen​ (M, 2k) 

Thanks to Pansy, Draco's stuck at a party with a whole bunch of drunk Gryffindors. And now they want to play party games. If only Draco can slip out unnoticed before this gets any worse.

Instant Darkness Powder by @ladderofyears​ (M, 116) 

Auror Partners Harry and Draco are trapped in the dark. Flirting ensues.

A Smoke Afterwards by @chuckweasley​ (M, Digital Art) 

I wonder who’s holding the lighter...

Day 3: Polyjuice 

Prompt: Polyjuice by blackswingsblackwords (T, 349) 

In which there is (supposed to be) roleplaying.

Polyjuice by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100) 

Harry takes Polyjuice Potion so Draco can fuck himself. 

Polyjuice by CuriousEmWanders (E, 985)

In which Draco lets his curiosity and obsession get the best of him. He just needs to know what Harry looks like. How else is he supposed to find out?

Day 4: Amortentia 

Occupational Hazard by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100)

Potions Master Draco has been brewing Amortentia. 

Prompt: Amortentia by blackwingsblackwords (T, 463)

In which there is a secret relationship. 

Smells Like You by CuriousEmWanders (E, 3.1k) 

Draco may not smell anything in his Amortentia, but that doesn't stop him from taking it to help him submit to his Dom de jour. 

Day 5: Spell Play 

A Magic Number of Orgasms @ladderofyears​ (E, 100) 

Harry and Draco experiment with a sex spell. 

Just Let Go by @manixzen​ (E, 3.4k) 

Draco struggles with letting go of his need for control, both at work and at home. Harry can help.

Prompt: Spell Play by blackwingsblackwords (T, 1.1k) 

In which an exhausted dad dates a smitten hero.

Day 6: Parseltongue 

Lucky Bloody Serpent by @ladderofyears​ (G, 100) 

When Harry gets a pet snake, Draco gets (a tiny bit) jealous.

a simple thank you can go a long way by @crimsonhead-ache​ (E, 2.7k)

The one where Draco needs to thank him and Harry allows him.

Also Parseltongue.

And dicks.

Draco’s Favorite Thing by CuriousEmWanders (E, 1.2k)

Draco has a thing for when Harry talks to him in parseltongue, and he's glad Harry doesn't know. Or does he?

The Hottest Parselmouth by @chuckweasley​ (T, Digital Art) 

Draco cannot handle how hot Harry is when he’s speaking parseltongue, even though he has no idea what Harry’s saying.

Day 7: Creature!Fic 

I’ll Huff, And I’ll Puff, And I’ll Blow Your House In... by @ladderofyears​ (M, 100)

There’s a Werewolf on the loose and he’s out to get Draco! 

Thirst by @fluxweeed​ (E, 4.4k) 

The path of Malfoy’s scent is obvious; Harry hasn’t fed for days, so his senses are sharp. Deadly.

And Malfoy smells so good.

Day 8: Imperius

Imperius by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100)

Harry and Draco are put under the Imperius Curse.

Non-con warning 

Day 9: Legilimency 

Legilimens by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100)

Draco shares his sexual fantasies with his lover Harry. 

Day 10: Dark Magic Ritual 

Reanimation Ritual by @ladderofyears​ (M, 100) 

Draco performs a Dark Magic ritual to bring his dead lover Harry back to him. 

A Moment of Intent by @manixzen​ (E, 4.6k) 

Auror Harry Potter and Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy are on another case, this time a Dark Arts Ritual gone wrong. Surely, they won’t botch up yet another crime scene.

Day 11: Invisibility Cloak

Tryst Behind The Tapestry by @ladderofyears​ (E, 1k)

It's Eighth Year and Harry and Draco enjoy some very sexy - and very invisible - fun after dark has fallen at Hogwarts.

Invisibly Arouse (E, Digital Art) by @chuckweasley​

The boys get frisky under the cloak!

Day 12: Duelling

Duel by @ladderofyears​ (M, 365) 

Harry and Draco practice duelling and things get a little heated.

Prompt: Dueling by blackwingsblackwords (T, 534)

In which a lesson is learned.

Cut Me Open (and use me) by @triggerlil​

Draco is the heir to the throne of England. Harry is a nobleman who wants to reclaim his honour. Somehow, these two things are intimately linked. Enter a sword, a dagger, and the hands of God, and you have a story about two men with tongues like knives, learning to lick love off sharp edges.

Day 13: Mirror

Deep Dark Truthful Mirror by @ladderofyears​ (E, 2k)

Draco shows Harry a very old, very powerful magical object: a mirror that will show his deepest, darkest sexual desires.

Getting Ready for Harry by @chuckweasley​ (G, Digital Art) 

Harry likes Draco in glitter and cozy sweaters...don’t we all?

Day 16: Magic Sex Toys 

hot damn, hot water, hot shower by @crimsonhead-ache​

Harry was more than ready for a long soak, a nice glass of firewhiskey, and twelve hours of sleep.

Too bad life never works out the way it's planned, or is it?

Colour, love?  by @choulatte​ (E, 7.7k) 

Holding Harry’s gaze, Draco took out the lube and let his fingers dance over the golden cockring he'd previously kept hidden, liberally coating it in the slippery substance. He watched how Harry’s eyes followed his movements, a desperate groan escaping the other man when he finally recognized his fate.

Draco merely smiled.

Both by @chuckweasley​ (E, Digital Art) 

Harry knows Draco likes to be filled.

Day 17: Room of Requirement 

No Fantasy Required by @manixzen​ (E, 4.1k) 

The Room of Requirement has never quite recovered from the war. It seems hell-bent on fulfilling every need of students and faculty alike, in or out of the room itself. Professors Potter and Malfoy really wish it would stop trying to do the students’ homework, though.

The Room Of Requirement Always Provides by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100)

Just a hundred words of Draco and Harry having some smutty fun in the Room of Requirement.

Day 18: Herbology 

Knowledge by @ladderofyears​ (E, 100)

Harry and Draco inhale sex pollen.

Day 19: Hair Pulling 

Yeah, Pull it Harder by @chuckweasley​ (E, Digital Art) 

The sex is very good. 

Day 20: Veritaserum 

Neither Of Us Have To Say A Single Word by @ladderofyears​ (T, 365) 

When Draco is being badly bullied, Harry steps in and looks after him. Pre-slash.

A Bit of Honesty by @manixzen​ (E, 3.6k) 

A Hogwarts ball, a spiked punch, Professor Potter and Professor Malfoy on chaperone duty… what could go wrong?

Day 21: Dragonhide 

Dressing Up by @ladderofyears​ (T, 333) 

The Potter-Malfoy family negotiate the tricky issue of Halloween costumes.

All Wrapped Up by @chuckweasley​ (E, Digital Art) 

The boys take care of each other the best they can. 

Day 22: Gillyweed 

The Shape Of Love by @ladderofyears​ (E, 200) 

Harry and Draco take Gillyweed and make love in The Black Lake. 

Day 25: Tattoos 

Tear it down piece by piece by moonstruckmuse (E, 7.8k) 

Draco just wants to get rid of this stupid Dark Mark. Why is this so complicated?

His to Adorn, to Cherish, & to Keep by @maesmora​ (E, 1.4k) 

Draco Malfoy is many things: calm, collected, in control. At least until Harry Potter gets his hands on him, and those aren't the only things Draco lets Harry put on his body...

Day 26: Exhibitionism 

how can anybody have you and lose you and not lose their mind too? by @crimsonhead-ache​ (E, 3.8k) 

As soon as he received that letter in the post last week from Potter’s boyfriend, he knew he would be in for it. 

Day 27: Formal Wear 

I guess that’s just me, honey, I guess that’s how I’m built by @crimsonhead-ache​ (E, 4k)

The way they adorned Potter’s body like they were made for him made him want to kiss his seamstresses’ feet. The lines, the colors, brought out his skin tone like nothing ever could.

Well, except perhaps the ropes Draco keeps in the bottom drawer of his bedside table.

Harry Potter and his Great Big Suit Kink by @swisstae​ (M, 2k)

Harry really doesn’t want to say it. Not because he thinks Draco will judge, mind you, but because it’s so embarrassing. Harry Potter—Saviour of the Wizarding World—turning into an incoherent mess at the sight of his boyfriend wearing a suit.

Waste Not, Want Not by @dragontamerdame​ (M, Art) 

Harry may have gone a bit too far. 

Day 28: Floo 

the rush I get touchin’ you is somethin’ else by @crimsonhead-ache​ (E, 3.1k)

Harry frowned though; instead of feeling his joggers that had adorned his lower-half, now he felt the air hit his bare legs.   He was going to murder Draco.

come through the fire my love by @triggerlil​ (T, 534) 

Harry prepares for date night with Draco... until the man calls him through the floo to tell him he'll be late. Draco's just lucky Harry has a thing for fire.

Day 29: Wandless Magic 

Without a touch by moonstruckmuse (M, 207) 

Learning to do wandless magic. 

#hpkinktober #hp kinktober #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco/harry #harry potter/draco malfoy #draco malfoy/harry potter #drarry #kinktober drarry #drarry master list #drarry fic post #fic recs #drarry fics #drarry fic list #drarry rec list #harry/draco

[spacebeyonce]

and wip wednesday time part 2, the remix, botw edition

another 2k taster. obviously it’s the Long Link Oneshot, it’s the only botw thing I’m working on lmao. the central theme is changing a little, and I’m still struggling with it, but it’s slowly existing. that’s something, right? so anyway - blood moons, am I right.

After that day, more of the Rito began to go to Vah Medoh now that it was calm, to explore the Beast that was supposed to protect them, and to visit the spirit of the Champion that still piloted it.

Link decided to spend a couple more days in Rito Village; there were a few things that he wanted to do before he returned to the east. He ran around completing a few errands for people. He spent time with Kass’ wife Amali and their daughters, joining them for their singing practice and discovering a shrine along the way. He found more shrines on top of that, venturing out a bit into the Hebra tundra. Link could start to feel a weight in his chest and knew that he would have to make some time to pray to the Goddess for stamina, for strength. He would need all the strength he could get to complete this task. Though he did accomplish calming a Divine Beast, that didn’t mean he was done – far from it.

On his third day in Rito Village, Link woke up and knew that it was time to leave.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something in the air; it felt electric, made his hackles rise and his base instincts whisper that he needed to run. Run from what, he didn’t know, but he was…unsettled. It felt like the presence that had possessed Vah Medoh when it had been taken, but more.

So he packed his bag. Quickly said his goodbyes and went to the stable to request that they send his horse to the stable at Dueling Peaks. It would be faster for him if he used the slate, and he doesn’t mind traveling by foot once he gets to his destination. He wonders if everyone else can sense that feeling hanging in the air, and if they felt as skittish as he did.

He gives Chestnut an apple and a skritch behind her ears, promising in whispers that they would see each other soon, and then he was gone, whisps of light carried by the wind.

Kakariko was quiet when Link appeared, and he stared over the small village at the top of the hill, listening to the faint clink of wood chimes and wondering if this foreboding feeling that hung in the air today would follow him wherever he went.

Dorian and Cado gave him sharp nods of greeting when he approached, their faces drawn and wary, and Link pressed his lips into a thin line as he went up the stairs.

Impa looked up from the scroll she was reading as he entered, and she smiled. “I was wondering when you would show up.” She said in greeting as he took a seat at her feet. “I take it your journey west went well?”

It did. Link nodded, a pleased smile curling his lips. Vah Medoh has been freed. And I remembered a few things. It’s been…productive.

Impa smiled, and it looked like his news had taken some weight off her. “Good,” she sighed. “Very good, Link. And you remembered something? Excellent – come here, help me up.”

She held out her hand, and Link quickly scrambled to his feet to help Impa down from her tower of pillows. Her hand was so small in his, and it was thin and soft; it reminded him of the softness of the tunic he had to wear when he woke up, like one touch would send it crumbling. But Link could feel Impa’s strength in the way she gripped at his hand, and how warm she was, and he knew he didn’t have to worry.

“There, now.” She pointed at a chest up on the shelf. “Grab that for me so I can open it.”

Link was about to say that she didn’t have to bother, that he could do it, but a sharp glance had him quickly grabbing the chest and placing it at her feet. “Thank you. Alright, here –”

The chest opens with a soft creak, and Impa places a soft bundle of blue cloth into his hands. It was a tunic, dyed a shade of blue that reminded Link of the sky, with an embroidered pattern on the chest shaped like a sword. The mere sight of it sent Link’s heart twisting in his chest, and he tried to keep his hands from shaking as he held onto it. He could feel it, how important this tunic was to him.

“I’ve kept it all this time.” Impa explains quietly. “It had to be repaired in some places – it was a bit worse for wear by the time I had gotten it – but the embroidery…that’s still the same.”

Link traced a finger along the pattern, feeling the bump and ridge of every stitch.

“Princess Zelda made that tunic herself, you know.” She continued, a small smile on her face. “Down to the stitching.”

It felt like an electric shock, the realization that he was holding something that the princess had made, something that she touched. It was surreal. He pulled the cloth to his chest, throat working as he tried to find the words.

“…Thank you.” He finally whispered.

Impa’s smile grew at the sound of his voice. “It is my pleasure. Take time to rest before you go. And –”

Her smile dimmed some, eyes tightening at the corners. “If you do leave the village, be careful. I can feel it in the air; tonight…tonight will be a Blood Moon.”

A Blood Moon? Link didn’t know what that was, but judging by the look on Impa’s face, it wasn’t anything good. He had planned to start heading to the Zora today, but…he would take Impa’s advice, and rest for the day instead.

He bought a room at the inn for the evening and decided to spend the day walking around the village; he ran into one of Dorian’s daughters, Koko, who was running down the hill from the shrine. She looked anxious, and it hurt Link’s heart, the thought that whatever was hanging in the air was affecting her, too. So to take her mind off of it, they spent a few hours cooking, Link showing the little Sheikah a few recipes he learned in Tabantha. He saw Pikango painting by the Goddess statue and got a lead on another location for a memory; he made sure to make a reminder for himself to seek it out when he was able, making a note in his journal and placing a marker on the slate. After that, he went up the hill towards the shrine and the forest beyond it to pay the Great Fairy Cotera a visit to make a request to strengthen his clothing.

He liked Cotera; she was always nice to him and really fun to talk to, and her grove was always full of flowers and vegetables that never seemed to run out. Link wondered if the whole place was magic. He showed Cotera the tunic he just received, asking what he needed to make it stronger, and the fairy pointed him towards a small cluster of flowers – silent princesses.

He couldn’t explain it, but – there was something about those flowers. Looking at the flowers and their vibrant blue petals, Link felt…nostalgic.

Sad.

It probably had something to do with his murky past; Link hoped he would find the answers soon.

He admired the tunic after Cotera worked her magic, sitting at the base of the fountain and admiring the way some of the threads glimmered in the light, like they were made of fine metal. Cotera rested against the edge of her fountain and stared down at Link with an indulgent smile. “If you want me to strengthen it more, then you will have to bring me more of those flowers,” she says, “and shards from the horns of dragons.”

That quickly stole Link’s attention away. Dragons?

A shiver of nerves slipped down his back; he didn’t know Hyrule had dragons. Would he have to fight them to get a piece of their horn? He didn’t think he could do that, no matter what was expected of him.

His thoughts must have been showing on his face, because Cotera threw her head back with a laugh. “You worry so loudly, sweet boy! Yes, dragons – guardian spirits of the land. They’re quite harmless; there are three – Dinraal, Naydra, and Farosh - and they travel across all of Hyrule. You’ll know one when you see it. Though -”

Cotera tapped her chin with one long nail, a concerned frown on her lips. “No one has seen Naydra in decades. It’s worrisome…but hopefully nothing too serious.”

Link stuck around and kept Cotera company for a few more moments, but that comment about the dragons stayed in his mind as he returned to the inn, putting a worried furrow in his brow. The dragons…Cotera said they were spirit guardians; that must mean they were very powerful in their own way. The missing dragon…it couldn’t have been harmed or – or worse. Could it?

It was well into the afternoon when Link returned to the village, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the rest of his time. He would go exploring if this was a regular day, but the tension in the air…he didn’t want to go too far.

Squinting up at the sky, Link considered his options. The weight in his chest pressed down on him, reminding him of his need to pray, and he decided to do that next. Besides – he had noticed something, the last time he kneeled at the foot of the Goddess, and he wanted to see if that feeling would come again.

He could feel the presence of the Goddess rippling around the statue as he approached, and he made himself comfortable as he carefully kneeled down, lowering his head as he began to pray.

And – there. There.

Link could feel it – there was this…sensation that he’s been trying to find the words for. A presence just at the back of his mind, sitting there, watching. Waiting to see what he was going to say. He had wondered about it; thought that it was just the presence of the Goddess Hylia, but –

But it felt like Her, but also…not. There was something different about it. He thinks that, well.

Maybe it’s the princess.

Just the idea makes him feel a little smug – he knew the connection went both ways. He wasn’t entirely sure, but just in case, Link made sure he was good and settled.

He has a lot to tell her.

-o-

Link…

Link stirs from a fitful sleep to the sound of the princess’ voice in his ears, clearer than it’s ever been. What is -?

Link!

He sits up, blankets slipping away, and swipes at his eyes, wondering what’s happening to make her call for him so. Is something happening? Is the Calamity –

Is it happening? Was he too late?

Panic’s icy grip wrapped around his heart, and Link’s eyes snapped open to see crimson light streaming through his window. The feeling in the air, the tension – it was hitting a crescendo, stirring his blood into a panic, forcing him to move, to ­act –

He was out of bed and on his feet before he could think, rushing out of his room and the inn. Malice rained from the sky like ash, and the clouds churned in the sky, moving faster than they should around a swollen, crimson moon.

A Blood Moon.

Be on your guard! Zelda pleads in his ear. Ganon’s power grows. It rises to its peak in the hour of a Blood Moon. By its glow, the aimless spirits of monsters slain in the name of the light return to their flesh.

It makes sense now, Link thinks numbly, why Impa advised him to stay within the village. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if he had experienced this while on his own in the wild. All the monsters he had dispatched so far in his journey flashed through his mind, and Link spat out a curse; no wonder monsters are running wild – who would bother facing them when they just come back to life every month?

Link –

His attention sharpened; the princess’ voice was softer, now, fading. She was leaving him again – for now.

Please be careful.

It was gradual, the violent red giving way to the calm blue of night, the moon returning to its soft, silvery glow. Lingering flakes of Malice fluttered around him before disappearing, and Link shivered a little as the cool wind blew against his nightshirt, soaked with sweat. When Impa warned him of the Blood Moon, he wasn’t expecting…that. He still felt a little shaky, a tremble to his limbs as he slowly turned and went back into the inn. The snap of his door closing sounded overly loud when he returned to his room, and he pressed his back against the door, dragging his hand down his face with a ragged sigh.

Across the room, his bed waited for him, soft and inviting, promising comfort. But Link wasn’t sure how he would be able to go back to sleep now.

#wip wednesday #botw

[evak-fic-rec-turtleanon]

Evak Fics - Christmas 2017

Christmas fics posted for 2017

*** Non-English Fics *** Under 20k fics (Smutty, Angsty, Fluffy)  *** Over 20k fics

***** NON-ENGLISH FICS ***** 

Deilig er jorden by pagnilagni (Norsk, 3k words) - Et lite bakteppe: Tida etter at Maria og Fredrik ble født høsten 2029 ble ikke som Even og Isak hadde tenkt. Ungene sov ikke, fedrene sov ikke, Even ble deprimert, Isak måtte ta seg av hele familien. Nå er det snart jul... 

det kommer att regna på fredag, den tjugoandra december by vesperthine (Svenska, 4k words) - Isak har försökt säga att det inte är något att prata om ( – att mamma är dålig och pappa är feg, att han bara vill glömma allt vad förväntad familjelycka betyder och snylta på deras – ) men varje gång har Even bara tystnat och tittat ned; sett så sorgsen ut att konversationen helt har stannat av. Vilket han vet är en dödsstöt ( – en kommunikativ härdsmälta – ) som leder till allt det som han velat undvika; skrik och bråk som påminner för mycket om allting som han vill glömma.

En fantastisk julaften by pagnilagni (Norsk, 4k words) - God jul fra Maria og Fredrik og resten av familien Evak anno 2035 

I midvintertid by champagneleftie (Svenska, 8k words) - En saga om en Even, en Isak, och en magisk snöglob. 

En helt vanlig enkel dag by Always_and_ever (Svenska, 18k words) - Detta skulle bli den första dag, på länge, då han skulle känna sig ok. En dag spenderad med goda vänner på julmarknad. Han hade planerat och längtat. En helt vanlig enkel dag. Ja det var vad han föreställt sig i alla fall. Eller en historia om flera enkla dagar som inte blir så enkla som Isak hade hoppats på. ELLER en historia om att finna sin väg tillbaka. 

den mørkeste tida by pagnilagni (Norsk, 45k words) - Vi er i 2025. Isak har jobbet på Svalbard det siste halvåret. Han holder på med doktorgraden sin i astrofysikk og jobber som forsker i Ny Ålesund. Even jobber med en filminnspilling og har reist mye de siste månedene. Nå skal de feire jul sammen på Svalbard. 

Isak og Even -en julekalender by evakyaki, Frieda Echte (Plommesill), pagnilagni (Norsk, 55k words) - En Evak-fanfic-julekalender, fra oss til dere! God advent! Dette er en spesialskrevet desemberfic der vi følger Isak og Even dag for dag fram til julaften, desember 2017. Hver dag fram til jul poster vi et nytt kapittel her. 

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***** UNDER 20K FICS *****

SMUTTY

O Helga Natt by u_d (3k words) - It's Christmas Day. Isak and Even are far from holy.

santa, baby by empty_venom (SERIES, 14 fics) - Most of these are smutty fics but not all. 

Mistletoe and Type O Negative by riyku (6k words) - Isak Valtersen: vampire hunter. Kinda has a nice ring to it. 

Where the Lovelight Gleams by Sabeley (8k words) - The one where Even and Isak are stuck at different Christmas parties, but they're determined to have sex anyway. 

Uncover Me by Maugurt (13k words) - Now, Isak’s had his fair share of moments that could possibly be considered kind of gay, but those moments could always be regarded as curiosity or something else not homosexual. But straight up making out with some guy at a party couldn’t. There was just no way he could no homo out of that one. It was very homo. 

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NOT ALL FLUFF / ANGSTY

Love Actually by evak1isak (684 words) - Isak is engaged to his high school boyfriend, Chris, until things change when Even, his high school friend, shows up one day at Christmas, with an important message to tell through some posters while "Silent Night" plays in the background.

Blue Nights by Evak2121 (1k words) - "Still, he missed him more than he thought he could on a Christmas Eve." 

I'm not an asshole? by rumpelsnorcack (2k words) - Not Chrismassy. Jonas takes a few moments for himself to consider his reactions to his best friend being gay. It occurs to him that he maybe hasn't been the most supportive friend in the past. 

I'll be there, baby by Wolle19 (3k words) - All Isak want is for his husband to be home for the holidays. Even works making documentaries, so being home for the important dates is not a easy task. Isak just want a miracle. 

Oltre i confini del blu by Stria (Asia117) (3k words) - Five times Isak's Christmas is completely ruined and one time it goes completely right. 

it's going to rain on friday, the twenty-second of december by vesperthine (4k words) - Isak has tried to tell him that there’s nothing to discuss ( – that mom isn’t well, that dad is a coward, that he just wants to forget everything about family and expected happiness and just leech off of theirs – ) but every time Even has gone quiet and looked down; looked so sad that the conversation has just died. 

Soul Mates by orphan_account (5k words) - A misunderstanding before Christmas leads to a bit of angst and a whole lot of hurt/comfort. Then lots and lots of Christmas fluff!!! 

The Disaster Christmas by tusktooth (6k words) - It's now Isak's turn to meet Even's extended family over the week of Christmas.

my heart held a ledger by cynical_optimist, strangetowns (8.6k words) - A hitmen AU, wherein Isak and Even hate their jobs but love each other. 

i wrote you a song, hope that you sing along, and it goes: by traumatic (10k words) - Like a lot of seven year old boys, Even dreams of catching Santa Claus. He dreams of meeting him and shaking his hand, of asking him to show him how he does it, of thanking him for all he's done. When he actually does, Santa is exactly like he'd imagined. Both fortunately and unfortunately, by the time of Even's 23rd birthday, Santa no longer looks like that. He's no longer old or jolly; he doesn't have a large round belly or half-moon spectacles. This Santa is young, lean, and as beautiful as the world itself. 

tell me it's a good start by teatrolley (12k words) - A sequel. Even's POV of It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, before during and beyond. And a New Year's Eve. 

It's a Wonderful Life by kapplebougher (13k words) - t's a Wonderful Life AU, where Even believes the world would be better off without his existence. With the help of an angel though, he comes to realize that just maybe - that may not be entirely true. 

Life is better with you by charlyflowers (16k words) - A oneshot of Isak and Even during several Christmas times together. Childhood friends. 

I Just Want You For My Own by Twinklylightseverywhere (19k words) - Even loves the holidays, really. He loves spending time with his friends and family, drinking hot chocolate by the fire, exchanging gifts, the like. He loves leaving his apartment to see snow falling from the sky, children’s eyes lit up in excitement, and the general busy bustle of downtown Oslo in December. You know what he doesn’t love about Christmas time? Working in a fucking Post Office. 

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FLUFFY 

the way your eyes sparkle by wyoheartsmusic (501 words) - Isak and Even celebrate Christmas apart and neither of them is very happy about it 

Under the Mistletoe by evak1isak (952 words) - Isak has a crush on Eva's best friend, Even, but he's too stubborn to recognize it. With Christmas coming, Eva has a plan to set the two boys up. 

dance with me by agarina (1k words) - There's always some room for anxiety. And cheesy Christmas music. And dancing. And kisses. 

all i want for christmas is you by stringsinmelody (1k words) - Isak and Even enjoy their first Christmas together with their baby. 

Slowly Starts Sinking In by bri_ness (1.4k words) - Christmas ish. After a Christmas party, Isak and Eva consider their feelings for their friends. 

all the greenery is comin' down by colazitron (1.5k words) - Evilde fic. Vilde decides to try and make a move on Eva, and the mistletoe at the Kosegruppa Christmas Party would be the perfect pretext. If only she could actually get Eva underneath it! 

Christmas Surprises by glbertblythes (1.5k words) - Isak and Even celebrate Christmas together by going to Even's house for dinner. 

You And Me Here by TotallyTinkerbell (1.7k words) - A little Christmas-themed Evak fluff 

I'm FALLing for you by Schedazzle (2k words) - Not actually a Christmas fic but it’s too cute not to include. … the little bell above the door went off and his favorite customer came in. Even couldn’t hide the smile spreading on his face as he spotted the by now familiar golden curls. 

from such great heights by lizziemcguire (2k words) - Isak finds himself scared on a Ferris Wheel, and it's all Magnus' fault. Even is there to comfort him. 

White Elephant by HazyCosmicJive (2k words) - Vilde turns the office Secret Santa into a White Elephant Secret Santa. 

everyone hates christmas music by theyellowcurtains (2k words) - The boys plan a trip to a cabin for Christmas and a group Secret Santa. 

Hope by bri_ness (2.4k words) - Isak and Even celebrate hope. 

The Beginning of Believing by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.5k words) - “Santa’s not even real,” Aleksander shouted, his voice so loud that it echoed down the hallway.“Yes he is! He brings us presents!” Elin whined, her bottom lip pushed out into an over exaggerated pout— something she had clearly picked up from Even. Aleksander scoffed and shook his head, blonde curls bouncing. “No! Daddy and Pappa bring us presents!” Elin’s eyes grew as wide as saucers, and a thin film of moisture clouded her pretty green irises. “No, Santa!” She argued. 

i can't pretend (guess that's love) by wyoheartsmusic (2.5k words) - Even is tired of watching his friends kiss. So is Isak. The plan? Add more kissing to the mix to get them to stop kissing.Foolproof. Right? 

Not so much of a Christmas miracle by Sassy3 (2.5k words) - Isak is trying to earn some money selling Christmas trees. He isn´t doing that well but suddenly the customers only ask for him, who is helping him out? 

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by colazitron (2.5k words) - Even knows Isak's a bit nervous about visiting his mother for Christmas, so he tries to lighten the mood with a joke. 

but cause he really knows me by ourlovelybones (3k words) - Even just wants to plan a perfect surprise for Isak, one where it doesn't go quite as planned and one where he thinks he might have gotten it just right. 

But the prettiest sight to see by imminentinertia (3k words) - Even deeply regrets doing Eva a favour for Christmas, but it turns out there’s a reward for his kindness. 

You Forgot Cranberries Too? by ultimatelawrence (3k words) - "Isak was a romantic deep down in his heart. A fact he never let anyone know. But a fact that was there and seemed to be exacerbated by the festive season."4 Christmas Eve's in which Isak sees Even. 4 Christmas Eve's to get it right. 

Bundle Up Tight! Flurries Tonight by MacksDramaticShenanigans (3.4k words) - Isak obliged and snatched up the first coat of his that his eyes landed on. It was more of a windbreaker than it was a real jacket, and Even quickly pointed that out. “If you wear that you're going to freeze, Is.” “It’s not that cold out, Even. Anyways we’re just walking to the tram stop, we’re not going to be outside very long.” 

Ready to Jingle Your Bells by MacksDramaticShenanigans (3.5k words) - It was truly a testament to how drunk Isak was when rather than vehemently denying the request or furiously shaking his head and pushing everyone away, he set his glass down and determinately rose to his feet. And there was also the fact that Isak— sober or drunk— was never one to turn away from any sort of challenge, and Mikael’s wording certainly posed this as one. (Of course, there was also the fact that Even did sing him a song, and what kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t serenade Even right back?) 

The best Christmas you've ever had by hannakin (3.7k words) - “I don’t hate Christmas,” Isak sighed. “I just don’t like it.” Isak doesn't really like Christmas but Even does and he wants Isak to do too. “I’m going to make this Christmas the best Christmas you have ever had.” he whispered. 

fucking finally by theyellowcurtains (4k words) - It was nearing Christmas and Isak had to do something. He really wanted Even to be in his life forever now. 

Tis’ The Season To Be Grumpy by MacksDramaticShenanigans (4k words) - “Jeez,” Even started, giving Isak a pointed look. “Are you supposed to be using that kind of language around children?” He asked, though he didn’t sound mad— more amused than anything, really. Isak scrunched up his face at that. “What would Santa have to say about this?” 

It's Lovely Weather for a Sleigh Ride Together with You by princeofnothingcharming (4k words) - It had been snowing all day in Oslo and as Christmas was drawing near they had been playing Christmas music in KB, putting Even in such a cosy and festive mood and he’d decided he didn’t want to lose this festive feeling and wanted to something fun and festive with Isak and knew exactly what he wanted to do. 

A Grump for Christmas by Schedazzle (4k words) - Apparently he wasn't as great at hiding his emotions, because as he hastily wiped the table someone behind him said, “Why do you always frown when that one comes on?” Isak looked over his shoulder to where that deep voice had come from. Even. There was a fluttering in his stomach every time his coworker unexpectedly starting talking to him.He rolled his eyes. “It means the CD starts back up again.” Even who had been smiling at him grinned at that and chuckled. “You’re a Grinch.” Fake dating au. 

Books by Aceteroid (4k words) - Even picks up a pre-ordered book for his mother and falls for the employee at the store. 

Just Kids When We Fell In Love by wyoheartsmusic (5k words) - Isak and Even go to university 3000 km away from each other. Luckily, it's Christmas break and they had the brilliant idea to go on a cabin trip together. 

Maybe what matters is being together by evakuality (5k words) - It's Isak's first ever anniversary and he can't imagine anything worse than being forced to spend it with his co-workers. Of course, when your anniversary happens to be around Christmas time, sometimes dates collide. 

He Moves Me by warlocked_mundane (5k words) - A huge smile lights up Isak’s face and there is no trace of sleep to be found anymore. He bites his lower lip to contain the giggle that wants to escape. Even talking about their future like there is no way but for them to spend the rest of their lives together and build a family of their own, makes him giddy with so much joy. He’s never felt so happy in his life before. 

All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by Alene (6k words) - Eva finds her way back to Jonas, but more importantly she finds her way back to herself. Isak just happens to find Even in the process. Also, it's almost Christmas, and they're snowed in. 

(WIP) The Fools Who Dream by Janey_E (6k words) - A collection of moments from Isak and Even's family life, important and not-so-important. Kids, friends, mornings, evenings, weddings, birthdays, bad days, good days. 

18 Secret Santa Horror Stories That'll Turn Anyone Into A Grinch by GayaIsANerd (6k words) - Some secret Santa, some unfortunate google results, a whole lot of complaining and a heart full of gratitude. 

(Baby) It's Cold Outside by himmelsky (6k words) - December is approaching, but Isak isn’t feeling the Christmas spirit. Barista guy, aka Even, wants it differently. 

Cuddle Monsters by sikily (8k words) - One spoke of true love and the other a critic, But Christmas would be the day to believe in magic, A wink of his eye and a tilt of his head, And Isak became a believer instead. 

Make the Yuletide Gay by Sabeley (8.4k words) - Isak has been pining after Even for months. Jonas and Eva decide that a romantic getaway at the cabin is exactly what the two boys need to confess their feelings to each other.  

helpful magic by everythingislove (straykid), puddingandpie (9k words) - Five times Even uses his magic because of Isak, and the one time he actually tells him about it. Or: the one where Even is a Santa’s Helper with special Christmas magic abilities, and Isak is a normal human who he's quickly falling for. 

7 Places I Fell in Love With You by princeofnothingcharming, Victory4 (11k words) - Isak has a unique gift for Even this Christmas. In the form of letters 

SKAM ADVENT CALENDAR by salengedusmiler (SilverySparks) (14k words) - Watch your favourite Skam characters open their advent calendars together with their friends. 24 days of more or less Christmassy friendship and couple fluff!

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***** OVER 20K FICS ***** 

Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough by Amfelia (21k words) - Not sure if this is Christmas centric. Even discovers life is not always shiny and bright, sometimes it is just really hard. Angsty. 

In A Week by allyasavedtheday (23k words) - Not a Christmas fic. But this sequel is a fav. “Fine. I’ll stay at Eskild’s on Friday night. And you can add your 1000kr to our wedding present,” he sniffs. “Or,” Jonas says and Isak doesn’t trust the glint in his eye. “We could make this a little more interesting. ”Isak narrows his eyes at him. “What are your terms?” “You and Even spend the five nights up to Saturday apart. If you do, we’ll pay for your honeymoon.” 

Late December With My Heart In My Chest by LavenderWater (24k words) - In order to stop his mother's fussing since he left for college, Even tells her he's dating his roomate, Isak. They pretend to be a couple over the holiday weekend to convince his family.

The Secret Santa App by Crazyheart (25k words) - Secret Santa AU, Isak’s and Even’s altering POV. In this world, Isak and Even met at Nissen, but they were never brave enough to do anything. Isak (25) is a stressed-out salesman for playground equipment. Even (27) is a freshly educated, burned out and lonely children’s psychologist. They meet again when Sana, Eva and Vilde arrange a Secret Santa party. Without knowing it, Isak and Even end up as Secret Santas for each other and they chat with each other on the Secret Santa App. 

My Very Personal Ski Trainer by Crazyheart (28k words) - This is before Christmas 2016. Even never transferred to Nissen, so he’s doing his last year at Bakka. He has just broken up with Sonja and is recovering from a manic and depressive episode. Sana has invited Even and her other friends to a Holiday cabin trip, and Even needs to get in shape so that he can beat his buddies in Sana’s planned ski race. He tries out a personal ski trainer app and meets the hot ski trainer Isak Valtersen. Even struggles to focus only on the training. On the cabin trip, when Even arrives early, a surprise guest turns up and a snowstorm threatens to snow them both in. Who knows what happens next? 

Under the mistletoe by mazarin01 (30k words) - Isak (23) and Even (24) have been best friends since junior high. The holiday is upon them. Isak hates Christmas, having lots of bad memories attached to the holiday. Even on the other hand loves Christmas, but because of an appendix removal and a closed off mountain pass, he never gets home for Christmas. Being the best friend Isak is, he invites Even to celebrate Christmas with him. Circumstances have them kiss under a mistletoe and neither of them expected the kiss to feel that good... 

(I’ll give it to) Someone Special by nofeartina (31k words) - The one where Isak is oblivious to Even’s true feelings about him, but fortunately it only takes the Christmas holidays to change that. Childhood friends. Fake dating. 

A Thrill of Hope by mlbee (35k words) - “Yes,” Even breathed before pulling Isak in for another kiss. He pulled away and murmured, “This is so weird. I’m kissing a total stranger.” “Really?” Isak asked. “I do it all the time.” The Holiday AU 

Five Dollars by folerdetdufoler (36k words) - You know that one book that changes your life? It just landed in Isak Valtersen's inbox. 

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas by teatrolley (49k words) - So, here’s the thing: Isak moves out of his parent’s house when he’s sixteen and it’s fine, really, most of the time it’s fine. It’s just Decembers. Goddamn Decembers. They’re not exactly his favourite time of the year.This time, though: this time he think there’s someone who has it worse than he does.On the first of December that year, Even moves in. 

Around the Corner (My Very Personal Christmas Shopper) by Crazyheart (51k words) - Isak (22) works in a record shop for Jonas. Isak’s best colleague and friend is Eva, who works in the shop, too. Isak is still in the closet. He says things as he thinks, though. Doesn't like snowglobes. Even (24) comes and asks for a job. The two get off on the wrong foot, although Isak finds Even irritatingly attractive. To complicate things, Isak has just gotten a personal Christmas gift shopper, who turns out to be a very romantic gift shopper, and who doesn't shy away from a little flirting. Holiday movie AU. 

In this bed of snowflakes we lie by MermaidsandMermen (58k words) - Follow Isak and Even in this University Dorm life AU, full of snowflakes, fluffy pillows, and people who are nothing like they seem on the outside. Because people keep secrets. Pretend to be people they are not. And secrets will wear you down if you don't let them out to air once in a while. 

that’s all i really know by cammm (95k words) - Not exclusively a christmas fic. Even and Isak have been dating for a while now. They met at a young age and sort of grew up together. Even lives and goes to school a few hours away from Nissen, so there’s a lot of commuting for Isak to see his boyfriend. But what happens when Even says he moving? And then he shows up at Nissen a few weeks later, to start school?Only thing... Isak isn’t out, yet. And Even wasn’t ever told that his boyfriend was still in the closet. 

717 Miles by MermaidsandMermen (114k words) - The epilogue is the Christmas heavy chapter. Even Bech Naesheim should not be here. Well it was not his plan to be here. Not at all. Even Bech Naesheim, age 19, is supposed to be on a beach in Bali. He is supposed to be on the first stop on his Asian backpacking trip of a lifetime. THAT was the plan. That is where he is supposed to be. Not here. Alone in a house in fucking London. Being paid to look after some troubled 17-year-old. Isak Valtersen has 3 weeks left of school. He has to survive 3 more weeks. Make it through 21 more days of hell. Then he is going to hide out in his room for the rest of the summer until he can figure out how to get his life back on track. Find a school far far away where he can start over. Not make mistakes. He doesn't need a fucking babysitter. He just doesn't. His life is fucked up enough as it is. 

(WIP) You Are Not Alone by TotallyTinkerbell (130k words) - What happened after Isak told us that 'life is now'. 

Family Ties by sadgrlsclub (215k words) - Set between Season 3 and 4. Even gets invited to his first Valtersen family event, and discovers things about Isak's past and his relationship with his parents. The story of how Even and Isak get to know each other's families and deepen their bond along the way. 

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #christmas #2017 #there's a lot

[lost-your-memory]

Hi! For the prompt thing, could you do "Zero fucks given. Next please", supercat? Thank you! Have a nice lockdown :)

Heeey thank you for the prompt and for the lovely words on the previous one! I hope this one will please you as well. After Bhutan, let’s travel to Washington D.C and have some classic Cat Grant, ‘cause we all miss her.I know I was supposed to keep it under the 2K words limit ... Well, this is 3K words but you know ... Oops? ---

Cat is barely ten minutes in when she loses her patience.

There are unorganized piles of documents threatening to spill over her desk, all the lights on her phone are blinking red with missed calls and voicemails and there’s not a single cup of coffee in sight.

“Oh for the love of …” Cat swears under her breath, already striding toward her desk.

The sound of her heels hitting the luxurious wooden floor is enough to induce the beginning of a migraine and, not for the first time, she misses the soft carpeted flooring of her carefully designed CatCo office. She drops her purse on the chair strategically placed in between two massive French doors and fishes out her phone and a glass case before moving to her desk. She turns her laptop on and takes one glance at the still blinking phone display before raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, to try to alleviate the ever growing pain.

She slowly sits in her plush, comfortable chair and takes a deep breath before opening her mouth.

“DYLAN!”

She stares at the door across the room, waiting for her exceptionally incompetent assistant to show up.

She’s seething, clearly not having expected that level of sheer laziness and utter amateurism from the cohort of assistants she’s already gone through since she got here.

She would have thought that her position at the White House, as Olivia’s right hand, meant that she would get the best of the best, la crème de la crème but sadly, she’s been stuck with wannabe politician who could barely handle the phone. It is telling that James Olsen, who once manhandled the phone for her, did better than any of the poor, useless souls that she’s been stuck with and at a time, he’d been an editor in chief and awarded photographer.

The door finally opened and young man with short blond hair and deep blue eyes popped his head through, looking downright terrified.

“You called, Miss Grant?”

Cat notices how the pale blue color of his shirt, perfectly ironed and stretched around his tanned neck, clashes with the crimson red tie. That fashion mistake should be motive enough to fire him, Cat briefly thinks. Only Supergirl was able to pull off that god-awful combination of childish colors.

“Come on in,” Cat gestures for her assistant to approach the desk.

The man pales, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere else in the world, but he eventually closes the door behind him and takes a few steps into the office. His real name isn’t Dylan and Cat knows it but so far, no one had been competent enough to earn the right to be called by their actual name.

“Have a look, Dylan,” Cat distinctly enunciate the wrong name, knowing he won’t say anything about it. She gestures for her desk and asks “What do you see?”

The wrongly named Dylan glances down at the desk and frowns, looking utterly confused. He’s almost shaking, Cat can tell from the way he’s tightly holding his hands together in front of the buttoned jacket of his suit.

“Uh, Miss Grant?” Dylan asks, obviously not understanding the question.

Cat lets out a deep and aggravated sigh. She brings her hand to hoover above the blinking phone display and waits but nothing happens. The look of utter confusion in the man’s eyes only deepens.

“For God’s sake!” Cat sharply stands up and places her palms flat on the surface of her desk, leaning forward to be able to stare right into the man’s eyes. “The phone is exploding with missed calls and voicemails, there are piles and piles of paper stacked on my desk and where the hell is my coffee?”

That seems to finally sparkle something in the man’s eyes, a gleam of recognition. He looks almost relieved and then words spill out of his mouth.

“Oh, if it’s a coffee you want I can …”

Cat pinches the bridge of her nose again, closes her eyes and takes another deep breath.

She raises her other hand to signal for Dylan to stop talking. Thankfully, he’s not that obtuse as to ignore that order, and so she takes a moment to count backward in her head. When she finally reaches zero, she opens her eyes and stares into the terrified blue eyes.

“Pack up your things, you’re fired.”

She slowly sits back in her chair and with a typical flicker of her wrists, she finishes dismissing the new former assistant.

---

“Cat, it’s the tenth assistant you’ve fired,” Olivia sighs, accepting the heavy glass of Scotch her friend is handing her. “You’re only six months in the job and my chief of staff is already threatening to quit.”

Cat chuckles and comes to sit in front of the president, in one of the luxurious and comfortable armchairs that match the couch on which Olivia is settled. She’s got her own glass in her hand, half-full of a honey-ish beverage that gently swirls with every move her wrist makes.

“That’s because Russell doesn’t like me, it has nothing to do with the level of turn-over in my team,” She sarcastically retorts.

“Probably, but you still fired Donovan, who also happens to be the nephew of a senator I was hoping to get endorsed by …” Olivia reproaches before taking a sip of her drink. She hums appreciatively. “Oh, that’s good Scotch.”

“Zero fucks given. Next, please!” Cat retorts with a shrug.

That gets a reproving look from the President of the United States.

“Come on, Olivia. You know I don’t like nepotism and beside, that boy was utterly and desperately useless. He once announced that the French president was on the line for me but when I picked up, I got to talk with the king of Belgium …”

Olivia now looks positively horrified. She shakes her head, lets out another sigh and then decides to chase it all with another sip of Scotch.

For a moment, they stay quiet and enjoy their drink, as well as the soft music that plays in the background, a piece of Vivaldi’s four seasons.

The many high windows along the wall let in the fading light of the late summer day.

The skyline view is far away from the one she had from her penthouse in National City but it’s still decent enough so she can watch as Washington bathes in the golden halo of the late afternoon. On the other side of the sky, it’s already dark enough for a few stars to start twinkling.

“You know you won’t ever find someone as good as her, right?”

Olivia’s words are soft and gentle and when Cat tears her eyes away from the view, she falls into a pair of knowing brown eyes. She hates that her friend can read her so easily, but she doesn’t deny that she’s got a point.

“Oh, I know,” Cat whispers, trying not to be overloaded with memories of Kara. “I’m not trying to.”

“Aren’t you?” Olivia counters, leaning forward to place her glass on the coffee table in front of her.

“I’m not, I promise,” Cat nods, bringing her own drink to her lips and savoring a few sips before adding. “I have impossibly high standards but even I know that finding another Supergirl to be my assistant won’t be possible.”

An amused smiles graces Olivia’s lips at that, and she lets herself fall back against the cushions.

“Ah, so the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak …” Olivia muses, extending her arms on either side of her, along the slope of the couch. “I was wondering …”

Cat scrunches her nose and glares at her friend.

“You know I have cat puns,” Cat grits out, slightly annoyed that the President of the United States would even make one in the first place. “And yes, of course I knew. I’ve known since the very beginning but I figured that one day, she’d tell me herself ... "

“Careful, Cat, you sound bitter,” Olivia arches a brow, her smile still firmly in place.

“That’s because I am. I branded her, you know …” Cat retorts, standing up from her armchair and going to her liquor cabinet to pour herself another glass. “I helped Supergirl be the hero she is today, by giving her a name, a platform and a reputation, by protecting her identity … and she never told me who she really is.”

“That may be so, but she doesn’t owe you anything,” Olivia gently replies and when Cat rises the decanter in her direction, she simply shakes her head no. “Beside … you probably left before she got a chance to tell you.”

Cat replaces the alcohol atop her liquor cabinet and comes back to her previous spot to face her friend.

“I didn’t leave because of her,” Cat states, making the Scotch swirls at the bottom of her heavy crystal glass.

“No?” Olivia throws her a knowing look. “You could have fooled me …”

Cat grits her teeth and looks away to the falling night. More stars are now blinking in the sky, neighboring a shy crescent of moon while Washington slowly blurs into an indistinct shadow.

“You should call her, you know,” Olivia offers, checking the phone she just pulled out of her pocket. Whatever she sees on it has her frown.

“Everything alright?” Cat asks, purposely ignoring her friend’s advice.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Olivia replies, already putting her phone back. “Also, nice try but I know you heard me. You might think you’re not looking for someone like her but I know you, Cat. I’ve known you for a long time and despite the fact we didn’t talk for many years, I can still read you pretty well.”

Olivia stands up and grabs her glass, finishing it bottoms up. She then moves to retrieve her jacket, pulling it on and adjusting it before turning back to face Cat.

“Call her, Cat,” Olivia says, flattening the lapels of her jacket. “Do something, otherwise you’ll live with “what if” and “maybe” and I remember how you hate it. Be a big girl and follow your own advice : in order to survive, we must keep daring …”

“Diving,” Cat corrects, despite the fact she did use the word daring as well.

“I mean, that too but what you do in bed is your business,” Olivia smirks and Cat gasps before laughing out loud.

She didn’t see this coming but then again, Olivia Marsden had always been full of surprises, from the pot brownies she used to cook in college to the fact she was an alien.

“Seriously though, give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?” Olivia asks, the malicious gleam in her eyes having been replaced with something far more serious.

Cat doesn’t answer the question and Olivia seems to know that this time, she shouldn’t insist.

“Anyway, I have to go Cat,” Olivia says, already walking toward the entrance door. Cat stands up and follows after her friend to make sure the bodyguards at her door will safely take her back to the car.

“I will see you tomorrow at the office, probably first thing in the morning since Russell asked for a meeting about you going through so many assistants in so little time …”

“Eh, let him barks, it’ll keep him busy while I find someone myself,” Cat chuckles, moving to drop a kiss on her friend’s cheek.

“Call her,” Olivia says again before exiting the loft, the door closing behind her after those last words.

---

“I hear you’re having trouble finding a decent assistant these days …”

Cat smiles around the rim of her glass and looks up to the night sky.

Supergirl’s floating a few inches up, her cape fluttering softly in the quietness of the night and her golden hair flowing freely around her delicate and otherworldly features. The moon at her back gives her silhouette a pale, silver glow that truly makes her look like a goddess from another universe, a mythical creature.

“Good evening, Supergirl,” Cat greets her, raising her glass in a mock-toast. “Care to explain why you conveniently show up on my balcony minutes after I sent a text to my former assistant?”

Supergirl floats down a few inches, half of her body disappearing behind the ledge of Cat’s balcony until their eyes are approximately at the same level. The light that spills out from Cat’s bedroom enlights Kara’s small smile and makes her eyes shine ever so dimly.

“I could spring some lie on you, say that Kara told me that you texted and that it made me want to check on you myself but what would be the point?” Kara asks, her voice soft and quiet but still clear, carrying into the night. “We both know you were never fooled, not even that time you saw Supergirl and Kara Danvers at the same time in your office.”

“To be fair, I never truly understood how you managed such an exploit,” Cat nods and takes another sip of her drink. “Anyway, no you never fooled me. How could you, with the way you were always darting out of the room with the flimsiest excuse, every of those times coincidentally happening whenever Supergirl’s presence was required? It’s like you forgot that I am a journalist, before and above anything else.”

For a moment, Supergirl looks almost outraged, but then she laughs and the sound echoes into the night like a sweet melody.

“That’s fair, I was never good at lying, despite the whole other identity situation …”

“Would you tell me?” Cat asks, searching into Kara’s eyes. “You real identity, I mean …”

Kara looks a little hesitant for a few seconds but then, she flies up and closer.

Her boots softly land on the balcony floor, and she stands up in front of Cat, a hand resting on the symbol on her chest.

“My name is Kara Zor-El,” Kara says, reverence lining her voice.

Cat notices the way Supergirl stands, tall and proud, with her chin up and steel in her jaw. She’s royalty, framed by the stars twinkling behind her golden mane and the moon hanging high above her head.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to finally tell you, but I wanted to protect you, back then.”

Cat doesn’t say anything.

She’s been abducted by the Silver Banshee and Leslie Willis once, so she knows the risk of being tied to Supergirl. She can understand why Kara never told her about her alter-ego. It still stings a little but she understands anyway.

“Why now?” Cat eventually asks, looking up to meet Kara’s eyes.

Kara seems to hesitate for a moment, suddenly looking thoughtful and distant at once.

“Someone very dear to me once told me to put on my big-girl pants and to own up to my power …” Kara eventually whispers. “I think it’s time I finally followed that advice but that’s not all. See … my sister also got good advice from someone dear to her. Someone who told her that life is short, and she should kiss the people she wants to kiss.”

Cat’s heart misses a beat when Kara takes a step forward. The smell of wind and flowers overload her senses, and she almost forgets to breathe, drowning in Kara’s presence.

“That’s … good advice indeed,” Cat whispers, getting lost in the baby blue of Kara’s eyes.

“I thought so,” Kara smiles and then adds “I really, really, really want to kiss you now, Miss Grant.”

Cat can feel her heart go wild in her chest, beating frantically against her rib cage, drumming in her ears and pulsing in her temples. She’s been hoping for this moment for so long she can’t wrap her head around the fact it’s about to happen.

“Then … what are you waiting for, Kara?” Cat whispers, slowly enunciating the right name.

It’s all it takes.

The kiss is mind-blowing, full of all the pent-up frustration they’ve been suffering through for years. It’s deep and a little blunt, with Kara’s playful tongue exploring the inside of Cat’s mouth and hands roaming along the flexed muscles stretched underneath the superhero suit. It lasts and lasts and at some point, Cat eventually feels the need to come back up for some air.

She pulls away, one hand tangled in Kara’s hair and the other clutched around the rim of Kara’s cape. Their breath come out ragged and irregular but Kara’s smile is blinding, full of joy and hope.

“Damn,” Cat whispers, a little dazzled.

“Speechless is a good look on you, Miss Grant,” Kara teases, dropping a kiss at the corner of Cat’s lips.

“Cat. Please, call me Cat,” Cat says, looking up into Kara’s eyes. “Beside, don’t get too smug, it will take a lot more than just a kiss to render me unable to speak.”

“Is that a challenge, Cat?” Kara asks, tilting her head to the side as interest sparkles in her eyes. The way she pronounces Cat’s name sounds like a secret and a promise at once, it makes Cat tingle.

“Only one way to find out,” Cat offers, stepping backward to her bedroom.

She lets a hand slide along Kara’s arm, until it reaches her hand. Their fingers instinctively intertwine and Kara instantly follows, her smile full of wonder and her eyes as bright as the thousand stars shining in the sky behind her.

#Sentences prompt #Supercat #Kara x Cat #My writing #Five words prompt #Supercat fic #Cat just have high standards only Kara can meet okay #I don't make the rules #Olivia is the MVP #I just love Olivia and Cat's friendship

[yoontopia]

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘁𝗵 𝗽𝘁.𝟮 | 𝗺𝘆𝗴

pairing: min yoongi x reader; genre: fluff; words: 2k (lol what was i thinking)

warnings: none!

prompt: “Stay with me” + “Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything” based off this prompt list. requests are OPEN!

Read Part One 

You tried to focus on the work in front of you. It was a regular Tuesday afternoon at the office and your surroundings were quiet – the whirring of the photocopy machine in the background acting as white noise. Staring daggers at the spreadsheets in front of you, your brain refused to absorb any of the information. Your ears were tuned into the humming of a muted rap coming from the cubicle next to you, and a sound that you usually managed to ignore was somehow the one reason you couldn’t focus today.

Ever since a couple weeks ago, when your usually noisy and annoying work neighbour had offered you a hot drink and his spare clothes, you couldn’t get him out of your head. It was after a particularly bad day, what with you being dumped over a text and then ending up getting soaked in the pouring rain. Min Yoongi had gone from being someone you despised to someone you were now constantly thinking about at work.

‘All because he was nice to you once,’ you berated yourself mentally. How pathetic were you? To let one kind gesture affect you like this? Although, to be fair, Yoongi’s incessant teasing had significantly decreased over the past couple weeks. He was almost nice to you – he still joked and teased you, but it was now in the form of cheerful workplace banter and you found yourself not minding it one bit. And as if that was not the worst part, you had started to notice the little things you had somehow overlooked before.

Like how Min Yoongi was actually a very handsome man.

Letting your forehead hit your desk, you let out a light groan. Tapping your feet angrily on the floor you sighed.

“You okay there, squirt? You sound like you’re in pain.” a voice piped up and you lifted your head slightly to see the dyed white blonde of Yoongi’s head poking into your cubicle. One earphone still in, the other hanging down his chest, he had his eyebrows raised as he looked at you. You hated how cute his scrunched-up nose was.

“Yeah, m’fine,” you mumbled, waving a hand weakly at him. The last thing you wanted was for Yoongi to read your mind, he was weirdly good at doing just that. Yoongi looked at you disbelievingly, but he changed the subject.

“You coming tonight?” he asked. You tilted your head, so your cheek was resting on your desk instead, facing him. That’s right, tonight was the monthly work social. The human resources department, in desperate attempt to increase inter-work bonding, had arranged these. The email reminder you’d received yesterday stated that this week it would be laser tag. You usually passed up on these events, not really being too friendly with anyone you worked with.

“I don’t think I will.” You told Yoongi, hoping he’d drop the subject. Was that a flicker of disappointment on his face?

“Well you should,” he said instead, returning his focus to his own computer and typing away. “It’ll be fun and then I’ll have someone to show off my skills to.”

“Skills?” you snickered. The typing sounds stopped and Yoongi’s head reappeared outside his cubicle.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I am extremely talented at laser tag,” He stated, mock offended. “I’ll buy you a beer so you can come, and I can prove it to you.”

“Damn you really want me there to show off your skills,” you said, chuckling, pushing yourself off your chair in order to go make some coffee. When Yoongi didn’t answer you looked back at him. He was looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“Of course, I want you to come, it’s not fun otherwise,” he mumbled, his face unreadable. You blinked, your heart picking up its pace. What did he mean by that?

“Fine, if you insist, I guess I can stop by,” You said softly, playing with a strand of your hair. His face visibly brightened at that, making your heart flutter when he shot you a particularly wide gummy grin. “Do you want some coffee? Black right?” His smile faded again as he looked at you, expression unreadable once more. You desperately wondered what that look meant and a petty side of you wondered if he looked at other women like that too.

“Yeah, thanks, I’d love some.”

You stared at the meeting spot for the social in disbelief. It was a bar. You double checked the email on your phone to make sure this was a place, but you didn’t need to, since you heard your name being called. Looking up, you grinned at perhaps the one person you knew slightly well at work.

Jung Hoseok made his way over to you, brown hair curling, and his signature wide smile on his face. Hoseok worked in human resources, and you had a sneaky suspicion that laser tag had somehow been his idea.

“You came!” he yelled over the loud music.

“I thought we’re supposed to go to laser tag,” you responded jovially. Hoseok made anyone around him feel comfortable, and it was hard not to be friendly.

“We’re going after this,” he grinned, raising the bottle in his hand at you.

“Drunk laser tag? Really Hobi?”

“Please the place is full of like, ten-year olds, we need that extra kick,” You laughed at that and accompanied him to the bar to order yourself a drink. “How come you’re actually here though? Didn’t think this was your scene.”

Your fingers clasped around the cold bottle of Blue Moon that the bartender set down in front of you.

“Min Yoongi made me.”

“Min Yoongi – as in – the Min Yoongi in your department Min Yoongi?” Hoseok stuttered. “The one you got into a yelling match with at the Christmas formal two years ago?”

“Yes, the very same,” you sighed. “Where is he anyway?”

“Excited to see him, are we?” Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You scowled and flipped him off, but he only laughed good-naturedly.

The rest of your time at the bar was spent with Hoseok, Yoongi nowhere in sight. Trying to hide your disappointment, you laughed at all of Hoseok’s jokes and forced him to show you pictures of his dog. What felt like an eternity later, Hoseok said it was time to head to laser tag. Downing your second beer of the night you eyed the boy next to you.

“I’m gonna go round up everyone – wait for me by the doors?” he said before scampering off to go find others from your company. You slapped a few bills on the bar and made your way to the exit. Not wanting to look lonely, you fished out your phone and scrolled through twitter. Not for the first time you mentally berated yourself for not being more social.

“Hey, you,” a familiar voice said, and you looked up. Yoongi stood there, dressed in what you could only call a stark contrast from his usual semi-formal work attire. A cream baggy t-shirt, and ripped black jeans complete with a leather jacket. His ears glittered with multiple earrings, dangling every time he moved his head. His platinum hair shined in the lighting. You blinked at him, dumbfounded, trying not to hover over the fact that his gaze gave you once over. You hoped your casual sweater and jeans were up to standard. “How’s it going?”

You blinked again. You’d never known Yoongi to be the type to make awkward conversation openers. But you played along.

“Waiting for Hoseok so we can head down,” you answered, putting your phone away. Yoongi pursed his lips. “Where were you anyway? I arrived ages ago.”

“With the guys,” Yoongi gestured to a group of people you weren’t familiar with. When had he made friends at work? He had seemed even more anti-social than you, but you had assumed wrong. “I saw you with Hobi and didn’t want to interrupt.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, you heard your name being called for the second time. Looking up, you felt your stomach drop – but not in the fuzzy way it had when Yoongi had arrived.

Your ex-boyfriend stood there, looking surprised. It seemed he’d just arrived.

“It is you!” he said and made his way over. You gulped. “How have you been?” Your tongue felt tied, but you couldn’t help the burning anger that was bubbling up inside you. Yoongi must have sensed your change in mood.

“Hey man, I’m Yoongi.” He said casually, sticking out a hand.

“Hansol,” your ex said, taking it, a questioning look in his eyes. “Are you two--?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi replied casually and you whipped your head to look at him. His face didn’t betray anything. “We are. Let’s go,” he said, the latter part of his sentence addressing you. He grabbed you by the elbow and began dragging you out before you could say anything.

Once you were outside you huffed, pulling yourself out of his grip.

“I could have handled that,” you said angrily. “I’m not a damsel.” Yoongi shrugged.

“That’s him, right?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows. “The reason you arrived soaked to the core that day.”

“How did you know?”

“Your expression,” he shrugged again. “Haven’t seen it since that day, he must be some scumbag.”

“You still didn’t need to do that,” you said, although your anger was fast dissipating. “I wanted to tell him off.”

“Well,” he said. “Do it. Yell, scream. Say something – anything. I’ll listen.”

“I’m not going to scream at you,” you huffed. Yoongi flashed you a crooked smile.

“Don’t take your anger out on people that don’t deserve it,” he said sagely. “But you also need to let it out at some point.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked abruptly. You assumed the alcohol in your system had given you the courage you needed to voice the question that had been plaguing your mind. “You weren’t before.”

“Ah,” he mumbled, scratching his ear nervously. “I’m sorry if I came off as mean. My brother told me that I was going about it the wrong way, but I think it was just a defense mechanism to tease you incessantly. Doesn’t make it ok though.”

“Going about what wrong?” He stared down at you; lips pursed.

“I’ve had a massive crush on you pretty much since I started working,” He said, his voice quiet. Your ears were ringing and suddenly your hands were feeling warm. “And I didn’t know what to do about it – and then I waited too long, and you had a boyfriend.”

“Hansol and I weren’t even serious,” you whispered.

“How was I to know that?” He stared nervously at you. “Have I made you uncomfortable? I could leave—”

“No,” you said, your voice still hushed. “Stay with me.”

Yoongi froze, hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket. You smiled shyly up at him. Before you could say anything else, he was leaning in, his hands coming out to cup your cheeks, tilting your face up.

His lips were soft and tasted like rum. The kiss was full of hesitation, but when you reached out to fist your hands on either side of his jacket and opened up to him, you felt him lean in, hands traveling to your head, fingers gently sifting through your hair. You could stand here all day getting drunk off Yoongi if it wasn’t for the rude interruption that came not seconds later.

“And what do we have here?” Hoseok’s coy voice sounded, surrounded by a few people from work who were emerging out of the bar, and you jumped. It seemed Yoongi was caught off guard too, for he let you go quicker than lightening.

“Shut up Hoseok,” you hissed, your ears going warm. Hoseok grinned as he moved his gaze along from you to Yoongi, who seemed to be suddenly very interested in the night sky. You reached out to hook your fingers through Yoongi’s, much to his surprise, and smiled when you felt his grip tighten around you.

“Don’t get left behind,” Hoseok said slyly as he turned and walked down the street. You groaned loudly and Yoongi laughed, a tinkling, delighted sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“I live just around the corner actually,” he coughed. “You wanna ditch?”

“I thought you wanted to show off your laser tag skills.”

“Are you kidding? I only said that to try and get you to come. I’m not about to get beaten in a virtual game by preteens in front of the girl I like.” He was smiling his full gummy smile down at you, and dazedly you thought you could get used to this.

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #bts #bts scenario #bts fanfic #yoongi #myg #writings

[sapphicoftheworld]

Okay so I wrote a short story. It’s got some elements of Southern Gothic lit, but I wouldn’t necessarily call it that because that’s just not my writing style. It’s about 2k words so I’ll put just a few sentences above the cut :) 

         The vase of sunflowers that sat on the kitchen table were the center of attention. No mind should be paid to the anemic meat on the counter. Yes, it's fresh, but very insignificant. Even the honeycomb and two halves of a pomegranate, which are to be paired with the meat, are all the more intriguing. They are fresh from the backyard and cultivated to perfection, specifically for this occasion.

And do not at all worry about the bleeding skull in the back. If one were to look closely, it is possible one would find the skull with gold dripping down from the top, much like a vanilla ice cream cone dipped in chocolate, that was in dire need of jaw surgery. Of course its original owner had no use for it anymore, so I suppose it could go without the surgical procedure, but there is something undignified about a skull with a broken jaw, especially if that jaw were splattered with blood. Naturally that blood would match that of the painfully boring meat on the counter; for it would be silly for one to think there would be two different types of blood in the kitchen at the same time. 

       But nevermind those insanely boring details; the real star of the show, as I've said before, are the sunflowers. They lay beautifully in a glass vase in the center of the table, looking absolutely stunning. Almost in full bloom, perhaps this evening or the morrow’s morn will they peak, with the most dazzling, deep golden yellow hue. Strong luscious petals balanced gently but firmly with a sturdy center of deep brown. The seeds these flowers produced made the most wonderful yet distinguishable treat. They grew in a small field just a stone’s throw from the back porch. It was about twenty feet by twenty feet and when the conditions were just right, could rear about 100 plants if all survived. Growing no less than six feet tall, they tower over everyone, creating the most magical place to escape to. A place where one is untouchable; immune and separated from all outside unpleasantries. The world could go up in flames and I’d be none the wiser in the sunflower field. In here the air feels crisper and the sun warmer. It’s as if all of one’s problems and all that is unjust in the world has floated away to some other reality. 

       Today was just like every other day--nothing out of the ordinary and utterly pedestrian. The weather was pleasant enough so one could sit outside with a glass of lemonade (or a Bellini if one is feeling particularly cheeky) and not worry about blisters on one's skin. Inside, the kitchen fan mildly spun about, revolution after revolution, which was sufficient enough to keep flies off the meat and skull. There’s something uncanny about the flies here; they seem rather attracted to blood. This is strikingly peculiar because there are rather quite a few around here. And that is clearly rather mad, for why would any noticeable trace of blood be here? 

       Ah but nevermind the matter; the glory days of complete comprehension and understanding are long past. Furthermore, Mrs. Ignara was at the door now. I knew it was her before she knocked; she had a way of fixing herself up as to be presentable before interacting with anyone. Why, I’m perplexed myself, because she is the most put together woman I know; everything about her seems to exude this attitude of “I am a woman who is functioning at a level that is admirable yet unachievable; you wish and strive to be where I am but you know you could not handle a day in my life”. I think I may be in love with her, but then again most everyone who sees her falls in love with her; yet I do feel as if we share some sort of unspoken bond. Hmm. No matter what is true and what is real, I appreciate and covet her companionship.

       As I walked over to the front door, there was a hint of unfamiliarity in the air. This would have struck me as odd, but one can never be prepared for everything life throws at oneself, and not knowing what lies ahead is exciting anyways. The thrill of being blind.

       Blindness itself is not exhilarating, rather quite melancholy instead. Unable to experience the little joys of life: the joy on someone’s face as they’re given something mind and body numbing; the life leaving their eyes and draining from their body. The absolute power of being in control. 

       At the front door stood Mrs. Ignara, looking perfectly exquisite and holding a nice bottle of white wine with lobsters on the label, and next to her someone I had never met before. A man of perhaps ordinary height and firm but subtle build. He wore light brown slacks and a rosy button down shirt that had tiny crustaceans on it, only visible to those who looked closely. His right arm leaned on the frame of the door, very nonchalant but with a note of desperation, and his other hand rested gently on his side.

       “Hey howdy hey there stranger,” Mrs. Ignara said. “Care for some company and wine?”

       I smiled at the proposal. “Won’t say no to a good time.”

       “This here handsome thing is Jude. You’ll like him. He’s,” she paused to glance over at him, “cool.”

       “Hello,” Jude said. “I’m delighted to be joining you today.”

       “Ah well the pleasure is all mine,” I say, leading them into the kitchen. “Have a seat while I grab some glasses.”

       Mrs. Ignara and Jude sat down across from one another on the far end of the table opposite the kitchen sink. Grabbing the nice glasses from the corner cabinet, I turn to face my guests. The view was remarkable. A long, slender dining table of the finest maple trees fitted with three hideous floral chairs on each side and one at each head. They were upholstered with a wretched canvas fabric, a smothering of blue flowers of various shades and variety that exudes nausea and insanity, supported by shiny silver metal frames. Two guests sat at the end, one of whom I knew absolutely nothing and the other I desperately longed to know. And of course, for who could ever forget, the sunflowers in the vase on the table at the center of attention. My pride and joy. If I saw the view in front of me every day, forever, I would remember this time. I brought forth the glasses and easily poured the wine.

       “I hope you don’t mind I made lunch. It’s impossible to know what everyone likes, but I’ve never failed with bass. They’re fresh from the lake in the back.” I left my company for a second and returned with two plates of fried fish. 

       “My, my, why aren’t you handy in the kitchen,” Mrs. Ignara said playfully. 

       “Oh, you charmer,” I said blushing. 

       “Won’t you join us?” Jude asked.

       I waited for a moment, contemplating my response. He seems the right type.

       “While I do apologize for not being the most courteous host, I am quite content from breakfast and have a most intensive dinner planned,” I gestured to the back counter where the dull, soulless meat lay. “I know it may not look like much, but I am talented with a knife and skillet.”

       Jude looked behind me at the meat and honeycomb and pomegranates. For a moment there I thought I saw the slightest inclination of terror in his eyes, but it must have been the light because it was gone before I could be certain. This, whatever it was, lingered in the back of my mind, not my central point of focus but not so deep I couldn’t recall it. His eyes flicked back to my own and smiled at me knowingly. 

       “You have been nothing but delightful,” he said. “I can only imagine what wonders you can create.”

       “That is awfully kind of you to say of me. Would the two of you care to join me in a stroll through the sunflower field? It really is rather quite magical and wondrous.”

       “Oh! I would love nothing else!” said Mrs. Ignara.

       “Fantastic. And you, Jude?”

       “Thank you very much for the kind invitation, but I must decline; I’m not very fond of enclosed spaces and much prefer to be indoors.”

       “You, my dear, will be missing out, but that is how life goes. Feel free to open any bottle of red wine up. Top shelf is the sweetest, middle the sharpest, and bottom the richest.”

      With that, Mrs. Ignara and I left the kitchen and headed out to the backyard. We walked together in identical stride, passing the beehives on the left and the pomegranate trees on the right. Just before entering the sunflower field, Mrs. Ignara and I stopped for a moment. She looked to me for reassurance and I gave her a gentle nod of encouragement. Taking my hand, she and I stepped into the sunflowers. Immediately, I felt more relaxed. My lungs breathed clearer air and my skin felt warmer sun. The weight of whatever had haunted and plagued me was released from my shoulders. Mrs. Ignara squeezed my hand and I remembered where I was. The look on her face was pure ecstasy. She radiated elation and was the embodiment of joy. I have never seen such beauty. We laughed and spun about without fear of perception. Falling gently to the ground, we laid next to one another with a pleasant sigh. She looked over at me with an expression of bliss I had not seen in many moons. There was something about her that made me feel safe.

      “What is it?” She asked, sensing something was wrong.

      “What is what?” 

      “In your face, there is delight but in your eyes, there’s a note of hesitation.”

      “You know me so well,” I said. “I love it in here. It’s a magical place with deep, strong, true feelings.”

      “But?”

      “But it doesn’t last forever. What is true is not always real.”

      “Hey,” she whispered softly, bringing me in close. “We don’t get to decide what is true, but we have the power to choose what is real.” She touched her forehead to mine and we closed our eyes for a moment, then two. 

      When I opened my eyes on the third moment, Mrs. Ignara stood above me offering her hand. I graciously took it and we walked out of the sunflower field together, hand in hand. My knees felt like they had buckled when I took my first step out of the sunflower field. Evening had been birthed during the few minutes Mrs. Ignara and I spent with the sunflowers; the light of the world had almost dwindled away completely. We moved in identical stride to where we had previously been before, only to find something peculiar. 

      On the floor in front of the table where we sat not too long ago, laid an unfamiliar body. It had on a dark navy, long sleeve shirt and black slacks, both of which looked damp. Upon its head was a thick mound of matted brown hair. A thick pool of red had begun to seep from underneath the body, slowly spreading across the floor. I bent down and dipped my finger in the red. It was a warm, dark color. Slowly I brought my finger to my mouth, it tasted sharp and metallic, but was distracted by the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. As I stood up, the red dripped from my knees where I knelt down and had coated my hand. What I saw had brought a smile to my face and joy to my heart: Jude stood at the head of the table that was made of the finest maple trees. He held a plate in his hands, identical to those which had been placed on the table for Mrs. Ignara and myself opposite one another. They all had three rare cuts of newly inspired meat paired with a honey and pomegranate glaze. Next to each plate was a glass of red wine. The hideous floral chairs had become all the more pleasant, the supple canvas fabric had turned the loveliest shade of violet, and the multitude of flowers radiated euphoria. 

      I looked at Mrs. Ignara, then at Jude and melted. She and I walked to our designated seats on either side of him and sat down. 

      “Everything went alright?” I asked.

      “Yes, very much so. Although, I do have to apologize for the mess; you see, as I was bringing a bottle of red from the middle shelf to the counter to pour a glass, it slipped right out of my hands and smashed to the floor.”

      “Well isn’t this special,” Mrs. Ignara said, placing her napkin in her lap.

      “Every meal deserves attention and devotion. Let’s have a toast,” said Jude lifting his wine glass. Mrs. Ignara and I followed suit. “To this meal, and all that contributed to it.”

      We all gently clinked our glasses with one another and drank. As I went to set my rich red down, something in the kitchen caught my eye. What the back counter lacked in banal meat, honeycomb, and pomegranate seeds, it made up for with two skulls--one with gold dripping down the sides and a broken, blood spattered jaw; the other with a deep crimson stain, originating from the left superior temporal line and spreading outward. It was quite the satisfying sight. 

      In front of me, however, was much more impressive. Two guests sat with me, one of whom I had loved at first sight and the other I was learning to love. And of course, for how could they go unmentioned, were the elegant sunflowers in a case at the center of the table and the center of attention. At the peak of bloom, they set the mood for the rest of the night.

#okay so #i know i didn't need the indents at each para because tumblr breaks them with a space #but i put it anyways bc ~aesthetic~ #lmao anyways #my writing #writing #ok to rb #pls rb #creative writing #txt

[bruciewayne]

in my head

stevetony, college au, mutual pining, getting together, 2k

‘college roommates’ @iron-man-bingo

-

Finals were over, and everyone’s burning their textbooks and workbooks on the roof of their apartment building. Everything that was sellable had been sold, portfolios, important coursework and projects had been safely locked away to show future employers, 'Hey look, I earned my degree’. But everything else - worksheets accumulated over the past four years, textbooks that had been useful for one year and one year only, essays scribbled over with red - everything else is in the fire, happily burning away.

The sun’s starting to set, meaning the fire, bright and orange, and the fairy lights strung between the posts sticking up out of the corners of the roof, as the light. No-one’s in any way sure why the posts are there, but they’re useful. Even if the fairy lights had been a joke at one point.

Steve’s lying on his back on the wall-barrier-thing, one arm behind his head, the other has a half-finished bottle of beer, dangling over the side. He has one leg bent up, foot flat on the wall, the other hanging down the side of the building the unsafe side the part of his brain that sounds suspiciously like his Ma and Bucky, warns, he ignores it for the time being - he’s not a physics major but he’s reasonably certain that he’s balanced, it’s comfortable. He turns his head to face the roof, watching with fascinated disinterest.

It’s quiet, peaceful, there’s not that many of them there, not compared to the whatever’s going on a couple blocks down. He’ll be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure what Sam was on about, but according to everyone who didn’t live in their apartment block (so everyone who isn’t Steve, Tony, Bucky and Clint) there’s a police-level party going on somewhere.

Steve much prefers this, a couple of friends, on their last night together - not forever, of that he’s sure, but for the foreseeable future - music from the ‘everybody’ playlist (something they made the first time everyone hung out together, about a month into Steve’s first year - Tony’s first year of his PhD, and kept updating) floating out of the old stereo Tony fixed up. Clint had brought up marshmallows and skewers a couple hours ago, when the fire really started burning, but by now, they’d been finished, they still have lots of alcohol, though Steve doubts that everyone’s going to get loud-drunk, they’re tired, happy, because thank fuck it’s over, but tired, because it took a hell of a lot out of them. And they all know that.

He’d thought, for a brief moment that Tony would’ve gone to the bigger, louder party, but he’d caught his eye and smiled, don’t worry, I’m staying right here. Bucky’d told him once, maybe last year, that it was creepy how they could talk without saying a word, but Steve likes it, one look and, nine times out of ten, he knows what Tony’s thinking, and it works the same in his end, there’d been many mornings when Tony knew what he wanted for breakfast before him.

And many more, their lease is up soon, which means that they’re going apartment hunting next week, someplace in Manhattan, both of them have internships in Manhattan coming up in the fall, so it makes sense for them to live together, or so Steve keeps telling himself.

Right now, Tony’s laughing about something with Rhodey, a couple feet away from where Steve’s lying, he didn’t catch the joke, but he can see Tony throwing his head back, his curly hair flopping about. His eyes crinkle at the corners, the flickering light from the fire catches in his irises, and Steve feels that familiar pang of love and affection, strong and bittersweet, because, God, Tony’s beautiful, breathtakingly stunning, and bright, in every sense of the word. He lights up any room he’s in, simply by his presence, and Steve feels lucky to even know him, let alone be classed as one of his best friends, but that’s all he’ll ever be to him, nothing more.

Because guys like Tony, wildly intelligent and drop-dead gorgeous, witty and funny, guys who could have the whole world at their feet, just by asking, simply don’t fall for guys like Steve, sickly, small, laughable ugly next to his friends. To the point that when he wears skinny jeans, that are still a little loose on him, Tony pretty much completely ignores him for the rest of the day.

The last time he did, Tony kept leaving the room with some half-formed excuse, practically running away.

And Steve’s okay with it, he is, he understands it, he’s perfectly content with being his friend, admiring from afar, and never, ever, letting Tony know what he feels, that he wishes that he could kiss him, just because, because he had pretty-pretty-pretty, incredibly kissable lips, hug him longer, sleep in the same bed, hold hands, cheesy couple-y stuff he knows Tony doesn’t give a shit about. Tony will never get to know any of this because Steve values their friendship over some fleeting crush, he knows, with absolute certainty that Tony won’t ever look at him the same way if he ever so much as uttered a single syllable of his feelings.

So he’s fine with watching the firelight reflect off his hair, watching him laugh, light and free, as a friend.

His chest feels tight after a couple seconds, not quite asthma-tight, so he tears his gaze away from Tony and shifts his head to stare up at the stars, letting his mind wander from thoughts of beautiful, smart, funny engineers.

He’s always loved the stars, the moon, space in general, everything to do with it, exploration, rovers, planets, galaxies, he’d based his first-year project on space rovers and rockets. He grew up in Brooklyn, which meant that there’d been too much pollution to see all the stars, but he’d stuck up glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling when he was 11, and went to the planetarium every year with his Ma for his birthday, still did.

He loves all of it, the sheer vastness of it all comforts him, he’s simply a guy on a planet in the universe, does he have a purpose? Maybe. That’s up to him. He loves how little humanity, how much more there is to discover, the leaps and bounds in exploration technology - he’d never been the best at CompSci in high school, he leaves all that to Tony, but damn he can appreciate it.

“Star-gazing again?”

Tony’s warm voice surprises him so much he almost falls off, startling and tipping towards the street below, he probably would’ve fallen, but Tony catches him with an arm stretched across his chest, with lighting fast reflexes. His arm stays there for a beat before he slides it around his back and guides Steve, so he’s sitting upright.

“Sorry,” Tony says sheepishly, keeping the arm behind Steve’s back, supporting, he tells himself.

“I’m gonna put a cat bell on you,” Steve grumbles, but the effect is completely lost when a grin spreads across his face. Steve leans in to his arm a little, not so much as to arouse suspicion, but Tony’s always been pretty tactile with him, so it’s not too out of the ordinary, he’s close, so close that Steve can smell his spicy cologne, mixed in with engine oil and coffee. Somehow, he almost always smells of coffee.

“Neither of us want that,” Tony promises, with a tiny, private smile. He jumps up onto the ledge with his other arm, ‘accidentally’ pulling Steve closer. From here, he can see the tiny freckles that are brushed over the bridge of his nose, they only really come out in summer, faint and small, Tony feels a tiny sense of pride that he knows this about Steve. He can also see the hints of green, in the blue of his eyes, another thing he’s positive that most people don’t know. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

He knows that it ridiculously cheesy to say, but Steve, on multiple occasions, has literally taken his breath away.

Steve in skinny jeans was invented to stop Tony’s heart - he’s positive of it, whenever he wears them, which is tragically rare, Tony just Cannot be around Steve, out of genuine fear of popping a boner, because he’s positive that, whilst their friendship has survived a lot, that’s one thing that’ll have Steve look at him differently.

So he’ll stick to mild heart attacks whenever Steve wears something tighter than usual, but Steve in too-big hoodies, also gives him a stroke, because, more often than not they’re his hoodies, because they live together, and they’re not the best at laundry, so Steve sometimes ends up with too-big hoodies in his drawers, and Tony sometimes ends up losing his. It’s a win-win situation, really, now that Tony thinks about it, because Steve gets hoodies and Tony gets to see Steve in his hoodies and feel a wholly undeserved and, on every level, wrong, feeling of possessiveness that he has absolutely no right to feel.

Because he and Steve are just friends, best friends, mind you, but just friends, regardless of the fact that Tony wants to hold him, constantly touch him and kiss his sinfully red lips, and make him laugh, because, holy shit his smile is beautiful, he makes his entire body, and by proxy, Tony, light up like a firework, he’s just, inhumanely gorgeous, all the time. Even in the morning, eyes half-closed, hair tousled, he’s adorable. He even looked good during finals. A godawful mess, no doubt, but a gorgeously beautiful mess.

He’s well aware just how fucked he is.

“You never know,” Steve says shrugging and taking a pull of his beer and then putting the bottle over to the side, still grinning, looking up at Tony, so, so bright, if he was to ask him to wear a cat bell, he’s not too sure that he’d say no, not with the way that Steve’s looking at him. Tony swears it’s the light and the slight melancholy of the evening, that makes it seem like Steve’s looking at Tony like he hung the moon and stars. He’s not. It’s just the lighting; because Steve doesn’t like him like that.

Instead, Tony laughs, and ducks his head, “I guess not.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, Tony still with his arm around Steve and Steve leaning in, both simultaneously lost in their own heads and so, so aware of each other.

Tony’s mind wanders off to a class he was in, maybe a couple weeks ago, entirely by accident, because he’d been in search for his supervisor, and someone’d told him the wrong room, and he’d ended up in some philosophy or epistemology class, about solipsism, according to the powerpoint. No-one had noticed him coming in, so he stayed until his supervisor sent him a strongly worded text to meet him in his office.

Tony overthinks. To the point of panic attacks, he’s gotten better, but still, he knows that he sometimes does, which is why he didn’t really do philosophy, it was fascinating sure, but, it just made him think too much, so he usually avoids it. But solipsism sticks in his mind.

“You ever heard of solipsism?” Tony asks suddenly, quietly, not quite breaking their peaceful bubble.

Steve turns to face him. Tony’s still looking up at the stars, so he probably can’t see the stupidly lovesick expression he knows he has. “Don’t think so, tell me?”

Steve only has one secret he’s kept from him, but times like these he feels it bubbling to the surface - they’re so comfortable and relaxed around each other that it would barely feel like anything would change if were to Steve lean over and kiss him. It’s dangerous, and risky, but Steve can never find a legitimate reason to go, like Tony’s the sun and he’s every damn planet in the solar system.

“A philosopher, Greek, pre-Socratic, Gorgias, found this belief, that, basically, everything around you is made by your own mind,” Tony says, softly, still staring up at the stars.

“Well, if everything around me if my imagination, you’re the best thing I’ve come up with,” Steve says, without thinking. Like he said, risky.

Tony turns to him sharply. “What?”

“I…” Fuck. Steve’s going to lose one of the most important people in his life, all because he can’t keep his mouth shut. Fuck. He can feel his entire face reddening up, he’s thankful for the darkness. Hopefully Tony can’t see it.

Steve looks like he’d rather throw himself off the roof than carry on this conversation, he’s not meeting his eyes. This is the first time in the entire four years that he’s known Steve, that he thinks that he’s going to run from confrontation.

So Tony kisses him. Maybe it’s stupid and impulsive, but perhaps it’s been a long time coming.

And with the way Steve kisses back, full of passion, clutching at Tony’s shirt like he might disappear if he lets go, Tony’s pretty sure that Steve likes him back.

It only took them four years to get here.

--

iron man bingo masterpost

tell me what you thought?

#steve rogers x tony stark #steve x tony #stevetony fic #stony fic #stevetony #stony #my fic #my writing #ironmanbingo3000 #iron man bingo

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Keep Your Eyes On Me Part 2

So this is part 2 of my submission to @waiting4inspiration ‘s 2k follower challenge. In case you missed part 1

Warnings- implied nudity, language, I think that’s it. That good good (smut/lemon) is in part 3 tho so heads up. 

Part 2

You got up and stretched before you took off your dragon armor and dragon wool outer layers and lounged around your home away from home and made yourself something to eat before you got into bed in just your dragon silk under layers, what essentially looked like a tank top and leggings and got into your own bed and read from your ‘journal’ all the “history” you’d be changing if things went according to plan as the fire in your shelter stayed ever burning, keeping things comfortable which lulled you into sleep too before long. 

You woke up only moments before Bjorn did and barely had your dragon wool outer layers on by the time he opened his eyes. 

“Am I in Valhalla?” He asked as he looked around, this..didn’t look like Valhalla. Although he wasn’t in nearly as much pain as his mind told him he should be in, so maybe…

“No,” you shook your head no as you continued getting dressed and put your armor on over your wool layers because you didn’t trust him to not harm you yet. The way any wounded animal bites. 

“What is that?” He questioned as he gestured to what you were wearing. 

“It’s my armor.” You answered as you fastined it and ran your hands over it. 

“What’s it made out of?” He asked as he eyed it’s texture. 

“Dragon scales.” you beamed proudly. 

“What?” He shook his head in confusion. 

“I’m a Valkyrie from Asgard remember? Well, more specifically Neveah. Dragons still fly free there, they’ve died out here a long time ago. At home we’ve also domesticated them. Dragons are like…big scaley horses as far as temperament goes. When dragons shed their scales so that they can grow new, bigger ones, we collect them and make armor out of them. When they do, they reveal the dragon’s down, the way a duck or goose has down, like a soft fuzzy hair under each scale. However for some breeds of dragon, we’ve bred them so that the downy hair grows more abundantly instead of the scales, it grows like sheep’s wool, mare dragons, their down is much finer than a stud dragon’s is, mares grow what’s called dragon silk, stud dragon’s down is much thicker and it’s a bit rougher, they grow dragon’s wool. It’s really hard to dye to make different colors, ten times longer than it takes anything else to dye but once it dyes, the color never fades, ever. It’s also super durable while being breathable and depending on how you weave it, it can take the sweat off of you while not letting you get wet like if you’re out in the rain and it’s a bit stretchy. But it’s so tough that only dragon’s teeth can cut it decently well, Thankfully dragons regrow their teeth every shed and then once they reach full size, they regrow a new set every ten years or so. Baby dragons’ teeth, we use those for needles, medium teeth, perfect for small knives and scissors, the larger teeth, swords.” You explained as you pointed to the different layers of clothes you were wearing to show the differences in fabrics as Bjorn reached out to feel the fabric before you gestured to your dragon toothed sword on your hip before you handed him your dragon tooth knife to look at. It looked like rainbow titanium. It was always important to mix the truth in with the lies so that the whole was more believable because the truth was, back at home in the future medical science brought back dragons, all the varieties in ancient lore but with a twist of being domesticated. And you were really from an island nation called Neveah. 

“You really are a Valkyrie.” He breathed in awe before he handed the blade back to you. 

“Well on this plane I am, back home I’m a Dragoner.” You smiled proudly as you put the knife back in its place, and that was true, you and your whole family were Dragoners. Some of the best in Neveah. “Are you hungry?” you asked thoughtfully. As you got another pillow and helped him sit up in bed a bit better and more comfortably.  

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Ok, let me make you the dagmal then.” You offered as you began to make some breakfast for you both. You made him griddle cakes with berries in the batter, drizzled with honey and some ham and sausages, scrambled eggs along with making him a fresh loaf of bread from your breadseed. 

Breadseed was something special that grew only in the poles in your time, it was discovered when some of the ice caps melted and looked like super large milo plants when it grew in the dead of winter, sunlight tended to burn the leaves of the plant so it only grew in the light of the moon and from the northern lights when the temperatures were consistently -50°. Because anything above zero, the plant wilted and turned to mush, but when picked when you harvested the seeds and very carefully and very slowly brought it up to room temperature while you dehydrated it, they were fine, they made a delightful tea when steeped in hot water and was world renowned for its superb and surprisingly sweet and fruity flavor and longevity benefits. A handful of breadseed seeds looked like bronzer pearls, the more pearlescent the seed, the sweeter it was and came in varieties and flavors that most would recognize as bread and cake flavors. How the breadseed itself worked was you took a kernel which had a waterproof husk and once that was peeled away right before consuming since the husk kept it fresh, you put it into water, it expanded exponentially and grew very hot, baking itself and became something that mimicked and perfectly resembled a new loaf of bread and had all the health benefits that bread had and then some including added vitimins and minerals that were easy for everyone to digest, the loaves were the size of a soccer ball with a pocket, the size of your fist, on the inside in the middle, where still more breadseeds lined it. A handful of breadseed could feed an army. Back home they were international currency, but here and now they were just plain food. 

You took the round loaf and split it, one half was two thirds of the loaf and the other was about a third of the size of the whole, you didn’t need to eat a lot, this poor man hasn’t had a good meal in a very long time, he would appreciate the larger half but the action helped you to get at the pocket in the middle and scooped the breadseeds out and added them to your breadseed pouch before you went back to Bjorn and served him his breakfast or simply, his day meal which is what the dagmal was to him- in bed. Using the little table you had attached to the bed to set everything on so he didn’t have to balance it all in his lap. 

“Here you go.” You offered before you got him a large cup of buttermilk. Vikings liked buttermilk to drink for their day meal. Or so you’ve read. 

“Why are you doing all of this for me? There were others there that deserve this more than I do.” He asked as he looked at all the food and hesitated in eating it. 

“Odin has a path for you, I’m here to help you find it, walk in it and follow it. Once you do, I’ll be gone as quickly as I came, because by then, you won’t need me or my guidance.“ You informed him. 

“What is the path?” He asked as he slowly started to eat. 

“I’m not allowed to tell you, because if I do, it won’t happen. But you’ll know it when it’s in front of you.” You gently urged before you gave him a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder with a gentle smile before you left back into the kitchen area of your tent as Bjorn thought over your words and brought your food over to the little table and one of the chairs and ate yourself, drinking your freshly squeezed orange juice and bacon and omelet with pancakes and sausage as you low key looked at him out of the corner of your eye and noticed how he suddenly seemed to try to eat everything all at once. 

“This is so good,” he praised between bulging mouthfuls. 

“Thank you.” You smiled proudly. 

“So what’s your name Valkyrie?” He asked curiously. 

“What would you like to call me?” You returned, knowing he’d probably like you better with a norse name rather than your own. 

“Astrid.” Bjorn decided since you were still, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life and that name suited you perfectly. 

“Astrid it is.” You smiled back.

After he ate, he fell back asleep and once he was out, you took away the dishes and put them in the sink before the automatic washer washed them for you before you pulled up his biometric readouts from him into the simulation model and were pleasantly surprised when he was healing at a much higher rate than estimated before you recalibrated your algorithms to get a better and more accurate prediction for when he would heal. He should be out for the next…2 hours or so. Plenty of time for you to get a bath because your deodorant was dying and you could use one since back on Neveah, you bathed twice a day. Once in the morning to be clean for the day and then again at night, usually a bath to relax and unwind before bed.  

You got undressed and went into the bathroom section of your tent where a large tub was already full of swirling hot water and you undressed and stepped into the water and blew out a breath of relief as you stepped into the hot water and sat down before a tray lifted from the side, showing you a bath bomb and a vile of bath oil. 

You happily took it and dropped the bathbomb in before you smelled the bath oil. Ooh, jasmine with hints of lilac and gardenia. Hell yeah, you poured it in before you took off your face mask that morphs your face to appear however you wanted it to look and took it off and put it on it’s holder before you took the headband off that made your hair take on the long blonde hair Vikings loved and revealed your blue razzberry blue hair in it’s ponytail and pulled your hair down before you took the universal translator out of your ears and the projected screen in front of your face so that to everyone looking on, your face moved with your ranslated words and set them down on the tray and blew out a breath of relief and flexed your face as you rubbed your eyes before you slipped under the water and relaxed for a moment before the inside of the bathtub lit up and alerted you Bjorn woke up early which had you coming up out of the water to hurriedly put on your disguise again before Bjorn hobbled into the room and you ducked back into the water to press the hatch at the bottom of the tub to release an emergency bathing suit which you quickly put on under the water before you emerged because you were running out of breath. 

“Bjorn?” You said as you wiped the water off your face and looked at him questioningly. “You should be in bed, do you need something?” You asked as you moved to be closer to him. 

“A…bath.” Bjorn offered as his mouth went dry because your bathing suit was strapless and it appeared that you were naked because the waters were milky white from the dissolved bath bomb. 

“Oh, uh, sure, yeah,” you nodded in agreement and stood up and noticed the small pout he made when it was revealed that you were not naked and stepped out of the water to help him out of all of his clothes except for his underwear before you helped him into the water before you handed him a bar of soap, a washcloth and a comb. 

“You could join me.” Bjorn suggested sheepishly. 

“Only if you swear not to touch me.” You returned a little warily. 

“On my honor.” He immediately agreed before you joined him but sat across from him in the large tub and watched as he lathered the soap and began to clean himself up. 

“So how did you become a Valkyrie?” He asked. 

“I was recruited and trained like any soldier.” You answered simply. 

“So do you have a family back on Asgard?” He questioned. 

“I do. I have my parents and a sister and two brothers.” You revealed. 

“Is your sister a Valkyrie too?” He prodded, trying to get to know you. 

“No, she cares for the bloodlines of the family dragons as well as helping them lay successful clutches of eggs. My brothers handle the training of the dragons so they can take riders when they’re juveniles while my grandparents mainly care for all the grandchildren of the family and the baby dragons. My mother makes jewelry out of the shed scales of the babies as they grow while my father builds armor as do my brothers when they’re not training. That armor that I wear, my father built it just for me and it has never failed me.” You revealed with a fond smile. 

“Do you have a husband and children of your own?” Bjorn asked. 

“No, as a Valkyrie, I’m not allowed to have a husband or birth any children unless I retire first and I’m nowhere near retirement age.” You answered. 

“Do you want them?” He posed. 

“I’m sure I will eventually. But not at the moment.” You shook your head no. 

“What about you? Do you have a family back home that you’re anxious to return to?” You asked curiously as you tilted your head to the side. 

“I have a sister and her family are back in Kattegat. I haven’t seen her in a year, everyone else is dead.” He answered. “I was hoping to gain a fortune on this raid but so far there hasn’t been much to gain.” Bjorn explained. 

“The places you raid are learning and adapting to you and your tactics and word spreads faster than wildfire.” You surmised as Bjorn found himself nodding in agreement to that. “It means in order to get what you want, you may have to change your tactics.” You hinted which caused you to grin. “By the way, moving forward. There are rules for keeping my company. First, I am your guide to your path so that means when I give you advice, it would be best if you followed it because my purpose in giving it to begin with, is keeping you alive and keeping you safe but if you grow reckless, and abuse my help and support, I’ll call in a replacement and she will not be nearly as nice or as pretty as I am or worse yet, I’ll go back in time and leave you to die the way I found you. I’m as good as it gets. Second. I am not your slave, or thrall as you would call it or anything like that. You don’t boss me around. Third, this is as close as we get. I don’t mind being your friend on your journey, but anything more than that, especially anything romantic is out of the question and if you even hint at anything like that, I’m out and I’ll be replaced. Fourth, anyone who touches me without my consent, they loose their hands, including you. You can walk on your path with just one hand. Understood?” You proposed as you leveled him with a look. 

“Understood.” Bjorn nodded with a gulp. 

“Let’s shake on it.” You suggested before you shook hands with him as your materializer made him new clothes and armour. 

After that the conversation flowed much easier and you both got a better sense of who the other person was in terms of character until the water grew cold and you decided to get out. 

“Here, new clothes for you.” You said as you handed him the freshly made clothes made out a blend of dragon silk and dragon wool with dragon silk boxers which he had to get changed into himself. 

“This is really nice.” Bjorn said as he felt the fabric, nothing he had ever put on his skin had ever felt this good before. 

“Now, when you’re all healed up, I have new armor for you. It’s not dragon scale like mine, because giving you dragon scale is forbidden by The Code, but it’s the toughest thing in this world. Way down south of here, in a place called Africa, is a large lizard that they call the crocodile, it’s large enough that it can kill and eat people. This is it’s hide. It’ll stop most weapons. It’s the best I can give you.” You offered as you showed him his suit of armor. 

Getting him travel ready only took you four days rather than the seven you thought it would at first because he took the serums you injected into him better than anticipated and continued to make improvements and he surprised you every day by how well he was able to progress. This mission may take less time than you anticipated. 

Once he was ready, you set up a neural link between both of you, that way you could keep communicating without talking which would come in handy if you were in a form other than human and  transformed back into a horse, your tent changing in appearance to that of a normal tent of the time period from the outside and you were able to make it so that Bjorn could easily set it up and take it down before he put it on your saddle and rode you back to the camp where some of the survivors were and still nursing their own wounds and regrouping. 

“What happened to you?” They asked Bjorn. 

“I got caught in this horse’s reins and it dragged me north, I was able to tame it a little since she’s still green broke and half wild but obviously I was able to bring her back.” Bjorn answered since that was the answer both of you had agreed upon would be the most believable as he got off of you and lead you towards the rest of camp. 

“What are you wearing?” They asked as they eyed what he was wearing now. 

“Oh, this is what the dead fucker that was tied to her saddle was wearing, once I got him off of her and got her settled down, I saw that it was still good, I tried it on and it fit and it was better than what I was wearing.” Bjorn shrugged. “I think he was deserting the fight because she was packed with a tent and a bedroll and food.” He explained as he gestured to everything on your saddle. 

“Serves him right, filthy coward.” his surviving friends sneered but beamed proudly at Bjorn as they eyed you appreciatively as the shield maidens who had survived came over to you curiously as you greeted them sweetly and endeared yourself to them. 

Getting Bjorn and the others back home to Kettegat was more arduous than you expected but you and Bjorn grew closer as friends along the way, only appearing in your human form when you were alone with him, otherwise you were a horse and because of your senses and abilities you were always the first to alert the group of wolves and bears and even other people before you joined back up with another raiding party and traveled back home to Kettegat.

#Vikings #Viking imagines #Vikings crossover #OC viking #history vikings #viking reader insert #Keep Your eyes on me #Keep your eyes on me part 2

[pinespittinink]

[ Aubra/Victory smut ]

I said I would deliver and 2k later, here we are. I’m sure there are errors in this but it’s after four am and it’s all in the name of fun and Aubra smut, so I can’t care much. 

I actually started writing this last year, but thanks to the anon the other night, it’s now finished! 

___________________

“Let me,” Aubra murmurs, his voice warm on Victory’s ear.

The trees are green above them, full around them, summer pulsing alive and sun-verdant through the woods. Yellow light spackles through the leaves, dappling red and brown hair and wide, feathered wings, warming Aubra’s back. Victory is seated in his lap, his own white wings spread and pressed back against Aubra’s broad chest.

Aubra tucks his chin into Victory’s shoulder, carding his forearms through snowy feathers to run his hands over soft, supple hips. Victory’s shift is hiked up high around his waist, pale cotton bunching over a slightly trembling abdomen. Aubra strokes his stomach, soothing with gentle movements, nuzzling his hair.

“It’s all right. Are you nervous?”

They are alone out here, sequestered under a benevolent canopy, but Aubra has always been an attentive friend. Victory draws a deep breath, lean stomach contracting and releasing under Aubra’s spread palms.

“A little,” he says, “but it’s all right. I want to.”

“You want me?” Aubra teases lightly, nosing Victory’s hair further.

“Yes, please,” Victory breathes. His voice is summer sweet and keen, light as slim sunbeams. “I want you to touch me, like you said—”

He cuts himself off with the softest moan as Aubra kisses his neck, eyes falling shut. Aubra hums against his skin, lips curving in a smile; he traces his hands down Victory’s stomach, back to the vee of his hips. Victory clutches Aubra’s thighs where they support his own, spread strong beneath him, and Aubra noses his ear. With his shift rucked up so, Victory’s cock is completely exposed and untouched. He inhales sharply as Aubra runs a finger slowly up the length of his shaft.

“Look at you, so pretty for me,” Aubra murmurs, smiling as Victory’s wings flutter, nearly melting in his arms. He nudges the side of his head against Victory’s, brushing red bangs out of his eyes as best he can, and kisses Victory’s temple when the boy presses back against him.

“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Aubra asks, sun-browned voice barely above a whisper. He strokes Victory’s cock with just the tips of his fingers, drinking in the bodily shivers of the full-wing in his lap.

“A few times,” Victory says breathlessly. Aubra hums approvingly.

“Let me show you.”

Victory gasps as Aubra wraps his left hand fully around his cock, thumb smearing the shining drops of precum that had pearled at the head. Slowly, Aubra draws his hand down Victory’s cock, pressing deftly against the veins and plush lip of the crown, already glossy with more precum. Victory seems to be holding his breath, and Aubra chuckles gently, rubbing softly at the taut, tight muscle over his pubic bone with his free hand.

“Relax,” he tells him, kissing below Victory’s ear as he continues the massage. He’s rewarded with an exhale as Victory untenses beneath his kneading fingers. Aubra squeezes the base of his cock, grinning quietly at the gasp it elicits.

“How is it?” he asks, mouthing further along the side of Victory’s neck. He strokes up the shaft again, the skin warm and silk-soft within his grip.

“Good,” Victory exhales, the word twisting into a gasp as Aubra pays special attention to the head of his cock, brushing the precum around and pressing gently at the slit. “It feels good, it’s different than when— than when I do it.”

“I should hope so,” Aubra teases. “Relax, Victory.”

Softly, Victory slumps back against him, resting his head on Aubra’s shoulder as the other boy continues to work his cock over. His wings are fanned out still, draped across the ground on each side, long, pale feathers trailing in the grass. He sighs as Aubra touches the tips of their wings together, powder-blue twitching over white, like a summer sky.

Aubra holds him close, taking in the soft tremors of the body draped against his own as he works Victory more intensely. His breathing has grown louder, and when Aubra turns his head he can see Victory’s eyes screwed shut, tiny whimpers seeping past his lips as Aubra repeatedly presses at his cockhead.

“Watch me,” Aubra tells him. His nearly sings in triumph when Victory opens his eyes, whining at the sight of the hand wrapped around his flushed cock. “Good?”

“Mm-hmm,” Victory gets out, whine barely stifled. Every noise he makes it like a treasure, some tiny jewel or pearl, and Aubra wants to collect all of them. He jerks him even more thoroughly, his other hand wrapping around the interior of Victory’s right thigh and hiking it over his own, effectively spreading his legs further.

“Please,” Victory gasps, twitching in Aubra’s lap. His thighs are tensing, breath jumping in his lungs. Aubra can feel his cock pulse in his hand. “I want to, it feels—”

“Are you going to come?” Aubra asks with a smile, tucking his chin into Victory’s neck as the boy nods, whimpering a little. He whines in protest when Aubra removes his hand, hips twitching up into the air.

“What are you—”

“Not yet,” Aubra tells him, nipping lightly at Victory’s ear. But Victory pouts, wiggling a little in Aubra’s arms to give him an unhappy look. Aubra can’t help but laugh.

“Stop that, I’m not going to leave you like this,” he says smiling, all twinkling eyes. “Be patient a moment.”

His words do little to dissuade Victory, who has become a cranky, pretty bundle tucked close to his chest. Aubra pets his hair, heart swollen warm. He can feel Victory’s pulse with his cheek pressing into his neck, sense the high song in his veins. He jerks back to attention as soon as Aubra smooths his hands down his thighs, ignoring his cock.

“Aubra—”

“Shhh.” Aubra dips his fingers lower, parsing against the milk-white skin of his inner thighs, just barely brushing the soft, spread region below his cock. “Do you ever touch yourself here?”

Victory stills, but there is no way Aubra could imagine the red-handed hitch in his breath, or the pale blush in his cheeks.

“Yes,” he whispers. Aubra grins, rubbing his thumbs into Victory’s thighs.

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how.”

Victory is putty in his arms, gone utterly slack but for the slight shiver under Aubra’s fingertips.

“I use…my fingers.”

“Good,” Aubra hums. Victory has turned his face in towards his chest as though trying to hide, and Aubra nudges his head with his own, coaxing him to open up. “How many?”

Victory’s cheeks are moon-silver, eyes wide. It’s cute, Aubra thinks, how embarrassed he is.

“Two,” he says meekly. “Sometimes three.”

“And you like it?” Aubra traces a finger down slick folds, so soft and delicate and warm. He takes careful note of how Victory shudders, shoulders and wings slackening even further as he makes an affirmative noise.

“Do you like it more than this?” Aubra asks, bringing a hand up just slightly to cup Victory’s cock. The boy is trembling like harp strings, even more so as Aubra brushes lower with his thumb, touching him in both his most sensitive spots.

“Yes,” he breathes, barely more than a whisper.

“Good boy,” Aubra murmurs. He lifts his hands away, stroking Victory’s exposed stomach and tucking a strand of dark hair away from his face to see his expression clearer. “Victory?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to finger you.”

Victory swallows, heedless to stop the small noise that escapes him. A special kind of heat curls in Aubra’s stomach at the sound, the knowledge that he is the one who caused it.

He kisses Victory’s cheek as he slips the first finger in, feeling the spring-petal softness inside him. He absolutely relishes the sweet sigh Victory makes, drinking in every hitch and murmured moan.

“Aubra,” Victory pleads, and Aubra cinches an arm around his waist, squeezing a little closer to him. He knows what a beg sounds like, even before the words have come. “Keep going, please.”

He gets three fingers in him soon enough, knuckles vanishing until his hand is hilted between Victory’s legs, the boy keening and sweating against him. His wings are fluffing up, and Aubra makes soft cooing noises, rubbing Victory’s chest as he curls his fingers, pumping them agonizingly slow.

“So good,” Aubra praises, pressing kisses into his hair. “So good, you’re so wet for me, so pretty. Does it feel good, three fingers filling you up?”

Victory stutters, sniffles, barely able to get the words out as he nods against Aubra’s collarbone, face turned back into the comfort of his chest.

“mm’I like it, feels good,” he mumbles, hot and wet, sweet as summer apples.

Aubra works him more thoroughly, fingers curling just so, surrounded by such soft, slick heat. Victory is moaning openly now, whimpers escaping into the rest of the woods as much as he tries to muffle them against Aubra’s chest. Aubra wonders for a moment what it would be like if someone hears them, if anyone can; if they would follow the wanton sounds to find Pulvia Queen’s son being fucked beneath the trees. The thought stirs something liquid in him, a growing heat of his own, and Victory squirms as he picks up the pace, fingers moving faster.

“Aubra,” he gasps, his name watery in Victory’s mouth. “I’m— I’m gonna—”

Aubra knows.

“You close?” he asks, fingers crooking and spreading, rubbing inside him incessantly. Victory nods, wings twitching. His hand travels up his own chest to grab Aubra’s, holding tight as he clenches. He convulses in Aubra’s arms, cunt squeezing around those fingers, comes with something like a cry, a dry diamond sob that Aubra locks away in a vault in his chest to be revisited at later hours.

He kisses Victory’s head as he comes down, gently removing his hand from between his legs to gather him further into his lap, wings moving closer around them, a soft blue blanket. Victory tilts his head up against Aubra’s chest, meeting his close gaze. His dark brown hair is messy, damp at his temples, and his eyes are half-lidded, emerald irises gold-lit. It’s a good look for him, silver-flushed and sated, and Aubra swallows.

“Kiss me,” Victory says. He sounds like crushed velvet; who is Aubra to refuse?

         It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, not by a long shot, but Aubra never tires of it. Post-coital Victory is a special kisser, languid and warm, somehow hungrier after his climax than before, as though it rejuvenates him. It gets Aubra going as well, a little undeniably awed by the apt, avid attention of Victory’s mouth. If he somehow wasn’t hard before, he is now. There’s no way Victory cannot notice it, seated as he is, and he pulls back from Aubra’s lips, earnest intent already forthcoming.

“Can I—”

“You don’t have to,” Aubra tells him. “This was for you.”

“But I want you to feel good too,” Victory wheedles him.

Aubra can’t help the heat curling up his stomach, wants to whine himself.

“All right,” he says, “Do you—”

“I want to put my mouth on you.” If a person can look simultaneously serious and bashful, then Victory has mastered it. He is so close, sitting in Aubra’s lap with large, dilated eyes, flush still high in his cheeks. Aubra thinks he might die.

“Oh,” he swallows.

He ends up with his palms splayed in the grass beside him, Victory lying between his legs, mouth plush around his cock, green eyes gleaming as he looks up at Aubra.

“Fuck,” Aubra whispers. Victory is an absolute vision; lips damp, mussed hair sticking to his cheeks, eyes so big, staring with an innocence combated by the wet suction and heat of his tongue.  

“Fuck. So pretty, Victory, you’re so pretty.”

He sucks harder and Aubra almost loses his mind. One hand finds its way into Victory’s hair, pulling back dark curls, better to see those eyes. Victory moans at the contact, a reverberation that shoots straight through Aubra, who tightens his grip just the slightest bit, conscious of how Victory’s mouth slackens at the tug, fingers loosening around the base of his cock.

He won’t last now, not at this rate. He feels hyperaware of every sound and sensation; the playful breeze in the trees, the sun dappling Victory’s wings, the grass blades bent and crimped by his fingers, the chirping calling birds so independently passing their day. Victory’s mouth is so warm and wet, flushed and full with his cock. Aubra is wet too, he knows it, can feel it there, damp against Victory’s hand where he steadies the base of his cock. He hums a moan at another tightened grasp of his hair, and Aubra groans, arousal spilling through him unbridled. He’s not going to last, can feel it cresting—

“Victory,” he warns desperately, tugging the boy back, “I’m going to come, I—”  

“Come in my mouth,” Victory tells him, shining lips touching the head of Aubra’s cock. He does, not a moment later, gasping heavy as Victory takes him down his throat, swallowing around his length.

Aubra is speechless as Victory crawls up over him, arms bracketing his sides until they are slid close together. His arms link under Aubra’s, planting all his weight in the ground and over Aubra’s hips, and he hums as Aubra kisses him, a full, happy sound. Aubra can taste himself on Victory’s tongue, smiling against his lips.

“Good?” Victory asks, pulling back the slightest bit to meet his eyes. His whole face is sparkling, absolutely radiant, and Aubra nuzzles him, pecking quick, soft kisses over his lips.

“Good,” he murmurs.

#bloodlines #my writing #oc: victory #oc: aubra #they should have a ship name #oh well

[juniper-and-lamplight]

2019 Femslash February Recs

It’s Femslash February! Which means it’s time for some RECS. Here you’ll find multifandom femslash fics, as well as a few not-quite-femslash fics that focus on female characters. My femslash reading is all over the place, and this list follows suit: some recs are new, some are collected from earlier rec posts; all are in alphabetical order by fandom, at least. Recs below the cut, and please remember to show your love with kudos and comments! 

Code Name Verity Wind, Sand, Devotion - montparnasse, read by fire_juggler - 6k, 53min, T, Maddie/Julie "Empty spaces want for filling, and Maddie Brodatt is overflowing." A gorgeous, sensitive pod of a hauntingly lovely fic.

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency A Moment of Clarity - electricteatime | @kieren-fucking-walker - 7k, G, Farah/Tina “Farah is saved from answering when Tricia promptly throws up on her own shoes. She would be more annoyed, but in the moment she finds herself too preoccupied to care. Girls with girls. There’s a thought." If you believe that Farah Adrienne Black deserves ALL the love and acceptance, from herself and from others, then you absolutely must read this fic.

real and okay and beautiful - embraidery | @blueandnoah - 2.8k, G, Farah/Tina/Amanda (but mostly just friendship) "Mona's feeling down in the dumps (body insecurities) and her friends try to help her feel better about it all!" Do you love awesome women supporting each other and feeling free? If so, read this!

Keep the Home Fires Burning - @flightinflame - 16k, M, Farah/Tina, AU "Bergsberg is a small town off the beaten track. For Project Vesta, a Blackwing runaway, it offers a fresh start and the chance of a friend in the town's sheriff." A painful, cathartic fic that gives Tina’s character some real attention, and gives Farah and Tina the happiness they deserve.

pray for the thunder and the rain - inkyfishes - 7k, T, Farah/Amanda "A Farah-centric slice of a possible future. Everything has gone wrong. Everything is broken. Farah works through her anxiety whilst beginning their lives on the run. Her place in the universe is, as yet, undecided." An excellent and all-too-brief glimpse into Farah’s psyche, with a steady undercurrent of Faranda.

i was born in a summer storm (i live there still) - janeseyre - 10k, G, Farah & Todd & Dirk "Farah confronts the vestiges of her past as she, Dirk, and Todd travel east to visit her mother. It turns out Farah isn’t as over her father’s death as she thought she was." A deeper look into Farah’s families, both biological and chosen; full of lovely little smile moments and Farah getting the closure she deserves.

Never Played It Cool - @lavellington - 1.8k, T, Farah/Amanda "Dude," Amanda says, squeezing her tight while her hair tickles Farah's face. "It's so good to see you." "You too," Farah says, meaning it, and when they break apart Amanda's hands linger on her shoulders for a second longer than they have to, and that's nice. That's enough to feed her borderline pathetic crush for a week, at least.” Short, sweet, a tiny bit steamy, and beautifully in-character.

Hold Her Fast - Lynds | @gold-from-straw - 11.9k, T, Farah/Amanda, AU "Farah Black is the new girl in Amanda's school, and she's captivating. Everyone has a story about her. Amanda just can't quite figure out why her entire being is so totally aware of her, why her skin prickles when she's around, why Farah looks more real than anyone else she's ever known." I’m not typically into high school AUs, but this one is funny, moving, angsty, and gloriously DEFIANT.

Firearms Proficiency 101 - @nekosmuse - 3k, T, Farah/Amanda "I can't believe you took me to your private shooting range on our first date. That is so punk." Do you enjoy awkward Faranda? ME TOO. Especially stuff like Farah saying: "I... I am... into you as well." These nerds <3

you will soothe my worried looks - orphan_account - 2k, T, Farah/Amanda “Farah sees a therapist. It's a strange journey, but not one she needs to take alone." I would read many thousands more words of Farah in therapy, honestly.

there's cell reception on this widow's walk - strix_alba - 2k, T, Farah/Tina "In which Tina sort-of-kind-of asks Farah to stay with her in Bergsberg, and Farah kind-of-sort-of wants to say yes." Clumsy flirting, Farina styles! Tina mentally describes the Jacket Team as a “bunch of hot, uptight weirdos,” which is p e r f e c t.

Coincidental - tastewithouttalent - 3.7k, M, Farah/Tina "It turns out that blue is a ridiculously good color against the dark of Farah’s skin, and also that that shirt fits her better than any shirt has any right to fit anyone, and also apparently Tina has more of a uniform kink than she realized she did." You just have to love a babbling, awkwardly-crushing Tina.

(Note: this rec list isn't meant to be About Me, buuuuut if you’re into DGHDA femslash, I’ve written a few Farina fics you might enjoy.)

Ghostbusters (2016) Celebrate the Me Yet To Come - Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), read by @revolutionaryjo - 6k, 37min, M, Jillian/Erin "She is deeply strange and strangely deep. She looks in the void and the void blinks first. This is how Jillian Holtzman makes herself." Holtzmann is such a fantastically odd character, it's so enjoyable to dig into her past and her passions.

i don't wanna give you up (i don't wanna let you love somebody else but me) - @notcaycepollard, read by RevolutionaryJo - 3k, 20min, E, Jillian/Erin "Erin Gilbert is not the second or even the fifth straight girl Jillian’s ever fallen for, and it’s kind of getting to be a problem, except when she sees Dr Erin Gilbert, she thinks, maybe, this woman might be a statistical outlier." Closely observed, funny, hot, and the narrative voice is perfect.

Gilmore Girls Suggestions (And Mallomars) - Mosca | @moscarific, 3.3k, T, Rory/Paris "Identity, chocolate, mother-daughter relations, and the importance of voting: scenes from the first 90 days." Hands down, this is a more plausible (and enjoyable) romance than any of the ones that actually occurred in canon.

Harry Potter Library Solicitation - @gracerene09 - 1k, G, Cho/Hermione "It's not as if it's unusual for a solicitor to spend so much time in the Law Library of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione has a lot of cases to prepare for, after all. It certainly has nothing to do with how helpful and interesting and surprisingly funny their newest librarian is." As a librarian, I'm verrrry picky about librarian fics, but this was adorable.

The violets and the bloodroot - @lbmisscharlie - 908 words, G, Hermione/Luna "Luna strokes the underside of one tentacle; the plant hums. Hermione’s skin feels warm, her breath humid. The Room of Requirement offers up many things." Short, but vivid and memorable.

Winter Like a Balm - Lomonaaeren - 2k, T, Ginny/Luna "The first winter after Fred's death, Ginny escapes into the Forbidden Forest with Luna and her unicorns." A gentle but deeply felt story about grief and loss that brings Ginny through to the other side, to the terror/joy of allowing herself to feel hopeful again.

Grazed Knees - montparnasse - 5k, T, Luna/Ginny "The war is over, except that it isn't, and Ginny is done fighting, except that she's not." The mood in this one is so evocative, and I love it so much.

Blood Magic and Rebirth (or, The One Where They Are All Feminist Academics) - notcaycepollard - 1k, G "Moon cups, Luna thinks. Moon cups and blood magic. And she remembers the old itch under her skin, and a music box fluttering into a flock of birds, and wonders just how powerful it could be." Not femslash, but this fic is 1000% headcanon for me now.

Trust A Few - @violetclarity - 13.2k, T, Hermione/Pansy "Hermione has a pregnant adopted sister, parents who don’t believe she’s bisexual, and a crush the size of the Great Lake on Pansy Parkinson. Taking Pansy up on her offer to be Hermione’s fake date to her parents’ Christmas dinner could solve at least one of those problems...but it could also make everything worse." Half holiday romcom, half character study of adult Hermione her relationships (both romantic and familial).

Independent Love Song - @writcraft - 6.2k, E, Ginny/Millie "Millicent Bulstrode is a tailor and Ginny is losing her mind over a woman in a tweed blazer and burgundy brogues." I saw the summary and thought “hell yes,” and then I read the fic and upgraded that to a “FUCK YES PLEASE.” I love dapper butch Millie, and just-out but all-in Ginny, and also I would like to own ALL of Millie’s clothes.

His Dark Materials Selected Moments in Introductory Symbology - @kaydeefalls - 5.6k, G, Lyra/OFC "Lyra in Oxford after the Fall, relearning the alethiometer and discovering a life of her own." A poignant yet hopeful follow-up to the original trilogy, with characterization that feels very authentic while still allowing for growth.  

Merlin A Statue Strong Enough for Two - @theladyragnell, read by exmanhater - 39k, 3hrs 30min, E, Elena/Mithian "Elena is a street-level superhero. A visit from an old enemy forces her to step up and see what she might have to do with the Sidhe who invaded and were sent away twenty years ago. Luckily, she has fellow superheroes to back her up, and a new girlfriend in her regular life to make things feel more normal." I admit that I was skeptical going in, but the characterization and world-building in this AU is strong and absorbing.

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries Rise and reprove the insolent daylight - lbmisscharlie - 3k, E, Phryne/Mac "Mac takes a breath; Phryne exhales. The trailing skirt of Phryne’s shining dress – starlight and sparkle – brushes the backs of Mac’s hands as she slides them up to Phryne’s knees. Her stockings are soft; her thighs fall open, softly, under Mac’s hands, which clench, just slightly, with the heat that sends to her gut." Lush and laden with sensory details and weighty emotion

Every Day's Most Quiet Need - @tiltedsyllogism - 22k, unrated, Phryne/Mac, Phryne/Jack "Doctor Elizabeth Macmillan does not traffick in regrets...if Mac occasionally longs for a time before her friend became somehow distracted by the stiff shoe that is Inspector Jack Robinson— well, one must always endure some bad with the good." I love everything about this fic, but especially the closely observed characterization, of both individuals and relationships. There's a moment where Mac recognizes that she and Jack share a certain kind of "well-tailored" intensity...I almost shouted "YES THIS" when I read it.

et faisons la grasse matinée - mazily | @ylizam - 1k, M, Phryne/Mac, Phryne/Jack "'I do love you,' Mac says. She's not fond of saying it." Quiet, atmospheric, and sensual.

Sherlock How the mouth changes its shape - breathedout | @havingbeenbreathedout - 132k, E, Sherlock/Johnnie, AU “1955. A hidden London; the clandestine love between women. To Sherlock Holmes, struggling private detective and mistress of disguise, it’s a realm she renounced. To Johnnie Watson, daredevil ambulance driver turned auto mechanic, it’s too familiar.” Not only is this a deliciously plotty mystery with complex characterization, it’s also well-researched historical fiction. (Also recommended: HBBO’s Femslash and sex-writing essays.)

In the palms of the hands, invisible - lbmisscharlie - 3k, E, Sherlock/Jo "'I touch myself here, in this room, stretched out on the sofa, when you’re asleep, or showering, or – or in the kitchen –' Sherlock's breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, when Jo’s hand skitters, startled by the deep, rumbling rush of lust that pools low in her cunt at Sherlock’s words." The voice and characterization in this fic absolutely destroys me. It’s so uncomfortable and fascinating and real.

Diversionary Tactics - ShinySherlock, read by @fffinnagain- 2k, 16min, E, Molly/Irene, AU "Oh. This could be interesting. Irene’s fingers moved to the third button of the dress and paused. 'Shall I just . . . check the rest of you, then? Make sure you’re quite all right?'" A brief, hot, historical PWP, Mollrene style. UNF. Finnagain's performance is very...impassioned--maybe don't listen in public ;)

Supernatural To know what's under the floor - beckaandzac, read by exmanhater - 4k, 21min, G, Charlie/Jo, AU "No one here is like me, Jo thinks, and she knows it’s what every eighteen year old on the planet thinks. And she also knows in her case it’s completely justified. But then she meets Charlie." A college sorta-AU in which Charlie and Jo get something a lot closer to the lives they deserved.

Wonder Woman (2017) be yourself my ally - imperfectcircle - 15k, G, Diana/Etta 'That’s all very flattering,' Etta says when Diana has finally run out of steam, 'but surely you have more qualified candidates than me?' 'You are of the world of men.' Diana looks a little embarrassed. 'But not a man.' Diana and Etta go back to Themyscira." Did you wish for more Themyscira in the Wonder Woman movie? Did you think that Etta Candy was delightful and underutilized? ME TOO! Hence, my love for this fic.

Etta Candy's Last Stand - sanguinity - 2k, T, Diana/Etta "This is the way Etta is going to die: trapped between a bed and Diana Prince’s breasts." Bless Etta Candy and her dorky, romantic heart.

Beyond Belief - thingswithwings - 14k, E, Diana/Peggy, crossover "Diana finds her for the first time in 1947, underneath a rather heavy pile of fallen masonry." An unapologetically sexy crossover fic about camaraderie (and attraction) between two badass women.

Further fic recs | Fic bookmarks

#fic recs #femslash #Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency #Harry Potter #miss fisher's murder mysteries #bbc sherlock #code name verity #ghostbusters #gilmore girls #merlin #supernatural #his dark materials #wonder woman #dghda fic #hp fic #miss fisher's murder mystery fic #bbc sherlock fic #code name verity fic #ghostbusters fic #gilmore girls fic #merlin fic #supernatural fic #His Dark Materials fic #wonder woman fic #my recs #femslash february

[isakvaltrsen]

Skam fic love fest | Day 6: Recommendations

I’ve read lost of wonderful evak fics. fics that made me cry. fics that made me laugh out loud. fics that i couldn’t stop reading until I was done. I’m happy to share my favorites (arranged by word count, ascending). I put a heart in front of those fics that are my absolute favorites.

before it's all too much by thekardemomme | “It's in the past, Even. You can keep it there if you want to.” | 1.6k

Take this lonely heart by Tchell1 |The tears would not stop. They had kept coming since Even realized what had happened. Even was not normal. His terrible brain would highjack his body and do with it whatever it wanted. Isak would never love him. Even couldn’t even blame him. Even was never able to love himself. | 1.7k 

other lives and dimensions and finally a love poem by iphigenias | "Marry me," Isak says. Even almost drops the can of tuna he's holding. | 1.9k

The Study Buddy by wordsarelifealways/ @isaksredscarf | In this universe, Even meets Isak when he pours Red Bull into a black coffee at 7.15AM to cope with a morning class. Even's inner barista is horrified, but damn if the boy isn't cute. | 2k 

Must Be Love on the Brain by flowerbedofsouls | On Thursday 8th, Isak follows his friends' advice and takes a bus to Even. | 2k

The Hot Muffin Thief by @bellakitse | There is a magical muffin at the café where Isak's buddy Jonas works. It's Isak's lifeline, he has it every day and then one day some hot art hipster steals his muffin. | 2.2k

you are a kaleidoscope by grinsekaetzchen | The first time Even sees Isak across the schoolyard, his own magic grips him so tight, he has to sit down to get it under control again. Still, he doesn’t stop looking at Isak. | 2.4k

when i’m close to you (we blend into my favourite colour) by Behindthecities/@vanqoh | the the 5 times Isak forgets that he’s not dating Even and the 1 time he does something about it. | 2.5k

kiss me thru the phone by kaleidxscope | Even always forget to turn on his Wi-Fi and he has the bad habit of replying his phone company's texts. | 2.6k 

i'll paint the picture, let me set the scene by mmxii/@isakissyvaltersen | This might very well be the stupidest idea Isak has ever had. And he’s had his fair share of stupid ideas, so he knows what he’s talking about, okay. | 4k

Quidditch and liquorice wand kisses by @bellakitse | The first time Isak Valtersen meets Even Bech Næsheim the seven-year Ravenclaw chaser, it’s because the boy saves him from a bludger to the face. A Hogwarts AU | 4.2k

and you're the moon, i'm the water by gravinnen | turns out things like negative feelings and insecurities don't actually disappear by never talking about them to anyone ever and Isak's not too excited about that. time to face some fears. | 4.2k

it's going to rain on friday,  the twenty-second of december by vesperthine | Isak has tried to tell him that there’s nothing to discuss ( – that mom isn’t well, that dad is a coward, that he just wants to forget everything about family and expected happiness and just leech off of theirs – ) but every time Even has gone quiet and looked down; looked so sad that the conversation has just died. Which he knows is a fatal blow ( – a communicative meltdown – ) that leads to everything that he wants to avoid; screaming and crying that reminds all too much of the things he just wants to forget. | 4.3k

new beginnings by skamz | Isak moves into his new place and meets his new neighbors, a boy named Even and Satine, his cat. | 5k

and so i happily concede, this is all i ask, this is all i need by lovedisak | Even is fucking owning this marriage proposal thing.(with a little help) | 5k

let's have a team talk by colazitron/ @fille-lioncelle | Even is out for some non-alcoholic gløgg with his friends when he catches sight of a pretty blond boy. His friends do what all good friends would: play matchmaker. | 5.2k

scanned the skies with rainbow eyes by imminentinertia/@skamskada | He closes his eyes for a while, listening to the gentle whooshing sounds the waves make on the wet sand. The seagulls and the geese squawk a little and from afar he can hear a child laughing.He can also hear the soft padding of feet on the sand. Not goose feet, human ones. Close by. | 5.2k

❤️Spaces Between Us by allyasavedtheday/@littlespooneven | A fix-it fic for Even's storyline in season 4. | 5.6k

In Haunted Attics by GayaIsANerd/ @greathalesonfire | Isak meets Even a little earlier, a little more broken, a lot more lonely. | 6k

let me count the ways by anathema/ @azirapha1e | The worst part, the humiliating part, is that he’d thought he was over all this.He had been. He hasn’t thought about any of it in months – but sometimes life fucks you over, and sometimes a boy you tried to kiss, a boy who pushed you away, shows up to your first-month-of-living-together party unannounced, and sometimes you end up bolting out of your own apartment to have a panic attack where nobody can see you. | 6k

Sju Minutter by nusmag | It’s a love exercise, Isak supposes, shoving two people in the small, dark room under the tribune for seven minutes at a time. | 6.1k

we've built a home by skamz | after a bad breakup, Isak moves in with his new roommate, Even. He tries not to fall for him, and fails. | 6.2k

Large Americano, Extra Milk and Sugar by daigina | It's almost Valentine's Day. Mikael has a new job. Even has a new crush and no courage. This makes for lots of pining Evens, frustrated Mikaels, and spilled coffee. | 6.5k

The Boy Who Likes Isak's Smile by wyoheartsmusic/ @julian-dahl | Isak is heartbroken and there is a boy who is very determined to make him smile. | 7.6k

❤️ open the pod bay doors by iriswests/ @juilawicker | Even's trying to write a script for his class, Isak happens to catch a glimpse of the shit show, and they fall in love over a story of parallel universes. | 8.4k

Fall for You by Sabeley | If Isak could just stop embarrassing himself in front of the ridiculously attractive guy in his psychology class, that would be great. | 9.1k

ride with me, i'll ride with you by skamz | In an ideal world, Isak would spend this ride sitting by himself at the back of the train. In the real world, however, he has to allow this stranger to sit next to him.(A stranger whose shoulder he soon finds himself falling asleep on.) | 9.2k

baby we've got new love by itjustkindahappened | Isak is hella fucking gay and desperately single, and Eskild wants to change that. Even just has a thing about timing. Coffee shop AU with an ironic amount of tea enthusiasm and a whole lot of pining. | 9.5k

a constant state of closeness by chevythunder/ @icelandcurry | It starts with a hug. | 9.7k

Love Me Harder by tech_ftw | In which accidentally being added to a group text has unexpected consequences. Like falling in love. | 9.8k

❤️hell yeah, you the shit (that's why you're my equivalent) by colazitron | Even can't keep it in his pants, or his heart.or: Sometimes your boyfriend proposes and you just really want to sit on his dick. | 10.3k

it's mostly butterflies by hippopotamus/ @evenshands | “I’ve told you before,” Isak says, without looking up at Even. “The modern world relies on science and technology, Even. There’s no place for magic, it’s dangerous and unnecessary.” Little does he know, Even’s a witch. | 11.7k

LØRDAG 10:38 by wyoheartsmusic | Isak tries to understand what's going on after Even leaves their hotel suite butt-naked. Or: It's Saturday, 03.12.16, 10:38 and some things are the same while others are a little different. | 12.4k

It's a Wonderful Life by kapplebougher | It's a Wonderful Life AU, where Even believes the world would be better off without his existence. With the help of an angel though, he comes to realize that just maybe - that may not be entirely true.  | 13k

The Balloon Intervention by lovelycarcass | Even wants to get Isak's attention and the Balloon Squad decide to take matters into their own hands. | 13.3k

when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by cosetties | Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else. | 13.5k

Never be the same by nofeartina | It starts with a bet - one of those really stupid ones: can they last an entire month without any kind of sex? It’s been 22 days – and Even is dying. | 14.2k

❤️Somewhere I’ve never been by MinilocIsland | The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan. | 14.6k 

turn my blue heart to red by allyasavedtheday/@littlespooneven​ | Because we need a doctor au. | 16.5k

as if by magic (thoughts of you are gone) by hippopotamus/ @evenshands | Isak hates being the third wheel to his best friends, until that means he gets to sit next to a handsome stranger on a rollercoaster. | 16.6k

Sideways and Slantways by iriswests | Isak gets stuck in an elevator with the one person he's vowed never to speak to again. This eventually prompts a conversation long overdue, but not without the memories flooding his brain like a broken dam first. | 17.6k

And they were right in front of you the whole time by Ihavecoldhands |  Isak and Even meet as children, but it takes them a while to become friends. It takes them a little longer to become more. | 18.3k

something in the language of trees by scarletbluebird | AU where Isak's job really was to be Even's friend. | 20.8k

Eight Count by bri_ness/ @brionbroadway | Isak is a dancer who is losing his passion. Right when his best friend, Eva, needs his help with her struggling dance company. But when the famous Even Bech Næsheim joins their company, Isak thinks he might find inspiration again. | 21k

All the climbing, all the falling by Alene/ @tristealven | Isak and Even never saw each other after that night at the Plaza. Five years later Isak studies molecular biology in Bergen and keeps running into someone tall and blond.It rains a lot, there are mountains to climb, and some things start to fall into place. |  21.8k

snow and dirty rain by grinsekaetzchen/ @hotchocolatenthusiast | In which Vilde starts a book club because someone else already started kosegruppa, Even is a book nerd, who recites poetry, and Isak struggles to see the point of reading boring books when he could just watch the film versions; except, that he meets Even, so maybe book club isn't that much of a waste of time as he's previously thought. | 23k

No Rain, No Roses by @fxckxxp | Science brains and art brains were meant to fall in love. Or: Isak and Even restore a house together and make it a home. | 23.2k

Let go when you give it by unsungyellowraincoat/ @isaksbestpillow | Isak is a tired biology student who has no time for love, he barely manages to take care of himself. Until two small dogs and a tall handsome stranger change all of that.Or Isak and Even meet at a dog park. | 23.5k

❤️i guess that's destiny doing it right by allyasavedtheday/@littlespooneven​ | the alternate universe where Even originally went to Nissen and became friends with Isak and Jonas when they started first year but moved away after his episode at the end of first year only for Isak to never hear from him again. Fastforward to the summer before Isak starts college when he’s travelling around Spain and bumps into a certain someone in Barcelona. | 26.4k

Dear Friend by bri_ness/ @brionbroadway | Isak and Even work together in a failing video store, and they cannot stand each other. Isak and Even both signed up for the Love Letters dating service, and they’re both falling for their anonymous pen pal. | 26.8k

please hurry leave me, i can't breathe by cosetties | For the first time in his goddamn life, Isak is focusing on himself. Trusting people, loving people, has never worked out well for him anyway. The last thing he needs is Even, who looks at him like he sees right through him, like Isak is worthy of something more. | 27.3k 

❤️in better light, everything changes by TimeInABottle | Isak accidentally texts a stranger (Even) while trying to text Sana. | 31k 

you're gonna sing the words wrong by strangetowns | In which Even is simultaneously the biggest loser and the hottest teenager on the planet, and Isak is simultaneously super gay and super pressed about it. Or: a marching band AU. | 32k

Guru Knows Best by StMisery | Isak grumps, and Eskild schemes. But it's all in the name of love. For their gorgeous new neighbour (and a little for each other too). Even moves into the apartment across the hall, and Isak's just trying to make it another day without dying of embarrassment. | 36.6k

❤️Play That Song by kapplebougher | Every day, Even catches a boy in a snapback who sneaks in to play the piano at the summer camp Even works at. Even's never seen him before. But if the boy's good looks hadn't already captivated him, then his phenomenal piano-playing ability certainly has. Even doesn't know much about love at first sight, but he thinks that this is pretty close. | 41k

Things Look Different in the Morning by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespooneven​ | In which Even needs a place to stay, kollektivet gains a new roommate, and Isak just really wants to sleep. | 46.8k

I'll Be Coming Home, Wait For Me by dahlstrom | The diner AU. Even and Yousef open a 1950s American-style restaurant together - Even is the creative genius in the kitchen, Yousef keeps the trains running on time, and Isak, Chris B, and Magnus are all along for the ride. Falling in love over food while Elvis serenades from the jukebox. Welcome to the Throwback Diner. | 47.9k

four movements on a first wedding by chevythunder/ @icelandcurry | Isak's spent years keeping his distance to Even, worried that any kind of closeness could trigger feelings he won't be able to suppress. Waking up married to Even after a blurry night in Las Vegas throws a slight wrench in those plans. | 48k

❤️Though our parts are slightly used by Teatrolley | Isak is pining for Jonas, and Even is pining for Mikael. Jonas and Mikael are dating. Isak and Even meet Or: Isak thinks love is a risk, and Even thinks it's tragedy. That's the beginning, anyway. | 54k

❤️a mental archive of love unwanted by chevythunder/ @icelandcurry | Even moves into a new flat, gains new friends and tries not to have his heart broken. He nails the first two. | 71k

❤️sua lumina; sidus series by shoulderbone/@odeto-psyche | What he wants to say, and cannot bring himself to admit: Before you there was no real me. Only a person pretending to be. Or, alternatively: Isak comes back to face death, and in the meantime, finds rebirth. | 101k

❤️with love, from anonymous by cosetties, iriswests | Isak just wants to get his coffee in peace, Even has a crush, and there's a secret admirer on the loose. | 136k 

#sflf2018 #evak #isak x even #fic rec #skam fic love fest #my post #pls let me know if any of the links don't work #i worked on this list so long everything is blurry at this point #:D

[lady-thor-foster]

Take Me Home // Thor x WOC AU P1

Pairing: Thor x WOC 

Word Count: 2k+

Warning: Angst, smut, alcohol mention, drugs mention, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR WILLY BEFORE YOU DILLY)

A/N: This was actually posted on my teen wolf blog but I loved the story so much that I adapted it to Thor because I felt like it would fit really well. Don’t worry, the final chapter is already written and queued up for next week so you don’t have to wait a million years for me to post again lmao. I hope you like it! 

Inspiration: “Take Me Home” ~ Jess Glynne

“Came to you with a broken faith, Gave me more than a hand to hold Caught before I hit the ground Tell me I’m safe, you’ve got me now

…

Could you take care of a broken soul? Oh, will you hold me now? Oh, will you take me home?”

Next Chapter

Another night of getting shitfaced and absently fucking some already forgotten person. Another night of pretending my life isn’t spiraling out of control. Another night of pretending I’m not a complete failure while all my friends are out graduating college, getting married, having families and living their dreams. Another night of temporarily drugging my demons and pretending I don’t hear them scream. Another night of struggling to hold my head above the water; it’s another night of failing to pretend my problems away.

Every voice around me is muffled. The party shows no signs of ending soon. People are attached by the face and hip in every corner; I’d see more modesty in a brothel. Navigating the sea of alcoholic debauchery, I manage to find my way to the front porch. The cold air bathes my overheated skin and for one small moment, I can breathe. I lift my thick curly hair from the nape of my neck and close my eyes to savor the fleeting peace. Opening my eyes, I fumble in my jeans pocket for my phone. It’s 2:48am. I can barely focus. With nothing but sheer drunken will, I locate the one name I’m always looking for. Thor Blake. Sleep is beginning to overtake me; my eyelids have never felt so heavy. Pressing the call button, I bring the phone to my ear. It rings twice before a sleepy voice picks up.

“Hello?” How does one person bring me so much comfort? Even in my drunken stupor, his voice resonates in my soul. Thor is home.

“I need you,” I whisper. The scent of rain fills the air and the wind blows in warning.

“Where are you?” He’s completely awake now. I can actually hear him rushing out of bed to put on pants. His keys jingle softly in the background. He’s coming.

“Strange’s. There was a party. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please.” My throat constricts and my chest fills with an aching emptiness I might never be able to fill.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” The line goes dead and a sigh of relief escapes my weary body. Sinking onto the porch bench, the party rages loudly in the house behind me. I look up at the moon with sleep laden eyes; so full and beautiful.

Lying down, I try to take small comfort in knowing I’ll see him again.

It’s been 3 years since I broke up with him. It was the worst decision I ever made, but I did it for him. It killed me every day. He deserved better than me; the broken girl with no idea how to make her dreams come true. Eventually he started dating again. Jane seemed like the best thing that ever happened to him…until she died. I saw him at the funeral. I’ve only ever seen that look of despair on his face once, the night I stupidly shattered his heart because I was afraid he’d leave me. It was the worst decision I ever made, but I thought I was doing it for him.

I don’t remember calling him. I don’t remember passing out on that uncomfortable rickety bench. I don’t remember Thor picking me up, kissing my forehead and tucking me into the front seat of his car. I don’t remember making him pull over and vomiting on the side of the road. I don’t remember him making me drinking my favorite Gatorade to keep me from getting too dehydrated. I don’t remember him carrying me to his shower and helping me wash the night away. I don’t remember him drying me off, dressing me and tucking me into his bed. I don’t remember him whispering “you’re safe now” into my ear as I fell asleep in a bed full of heartbreaking memories. But he does.

I’ll never forget the haunted yearning look on Thor’s face when I woke up the next morning. He must have been watching me from the doorway as I slept. His side of the bed was bereft with cold; I was alone last night. I’m not surprised at all. Sitting upright, my hangover bitch-slapped me. I groaned and clutched my head in my hands.

“There’s aspirin on the nightstand.” His voice, normally filled with sunshine and love, was devoid of emotion. I looked up. Gone was that desperate look; he wore his stoic mask beautifully. The ache in my chest hurt more than any hangover ever could. I missed him.

“Thor? How did I-?”

“You called me last night drunk off your ass. I found you passed out on the bench in front of Strange’s house. What if something had happened to you? What the fuck were you thinking!?” 

His anger was majestic. The way his cheeks flushed with red made the blue of his eyes stand out strikingly. If I squinted, I could almost see steam coming out of his ears. I didn’t even care that he was yelling at me just as long as he kept talking to me. I missed him. I winced as his voice gained another octave. He noticed. Looking at me sheepishly, he sat on the farthest corner of the bed from me. That haunted look was back. Another knife sliced my chest as the weight of breaking his heart settled over me. There seemed to be no mercy from the consequences of my actions.

“I’m sorry.” The simple fact that he felt he had to apologize to me spoke volumes. I’ve never met anyone with a greater capacity for love.

“Please don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re right; it was foolish of me to get wasted like that. Thank you for coming to get me.” Something shifted in Thor. His mask of stoicism slid back into place and he stood up. Turning his back to me, he headed towards the master bathroom.

“I have to get ready for work. You can stay here if you wish; your clothes are on top of the dryer.” He closed the door behind him and I hugged my knees to my chest.

Gathering my strength, I pulled the comforter from my body. Looking down I was surprised to find he’d dressed me in my favorite red shirt of his. I couldn’t believe he kept it. The cotton fabric felt so soft against my body; a thousand tender kisses and feather-light touches caressed my brown skin. The sound of the water running graced my ears and I headed towards the bathroom. Not stopping to consider the consequences or the high possibility of his rejection, I walked in.

Thor didn’t notice I was there until I’d stripped, stepped into the shower and wrapped my arms around his waist. For a fleeting moment he allowed himself to relax into me. For a fleeting moment, we were us again. I missed him. Detangling himself from my grip, he turned around to face me. Tension hung thickly in the air as neither of us said anything. Water gently poured down this face; he was beautiful. His gaze swept my body and he sighed heavily. Before I had the chance to react, his lips were pressed firmly against mine and his hands were tangled in my hair. Heaven: that was the only way to describe how it felt to kiss him again. He was still my home. I bit his bottom lip and he moaned into my mouth. Moving his hands from my hair to the back of my legs, he picked me up and locked my ankles behind his back. Only Thor could make my body burn this way. I gasped as he slid himself into me, filling me perfectly. His lips moved to my neck where he sank his teeth into my skin. God, he felt so good. He pinned me against the shower wall and we rocked into each other. The hot water only fueled our anguished desire. With every thrust, kiss, bite, and moan we poured ourselves into each other. Sex with Thor was always intense but this was something else entirely.  It was like everything we couldn’t say had somehow been unleashed. Every sorrow, wish, hope and love filled us both. He pulled away and met my gaze.

“I love you.”

I wasn’t sure who said it but in this moment it didn’t matter. We both felt it. I clutched him tightly as a furious orgasm tore through my body. His thrusts lost their rhythm as he emptied himself into me. We were connected by something more powerful than either of us could understand. This was more than lust, more than love. With one last kiss, he pulled himself out of me. The empty feeling made me ache to have back immediately. He handed me the bottle of soap and turned away. We showered in silence. The weight of our broken hearts weighed heavily in the air.

He didn’t look at me as we dried off and dressed. He actually went out of his way to avoid my gaze. I don’t know what hurt more: him ignoring me or knowing that I deserved it. Thor tossed me another one on his tee shirts, grabbed his camera bag and headed for the door. He turned back and paused momentarily.

“I’ll be home at 7pm. Your key is still on the hook by the front door.” Without another word, he hoisted has bag onto his shoulder and left. The slam of the front door reverberated through the apartment and I was alone again. I crawled back into his bed, my hangover a distant memory.

“What do you mean she’s at your apartment right now?” asked a very confused Darcy Lewis.

Thor was currently sitting at a bar with two of his closest friends, trying to figure out what exactly do with the fact that you were back in his life. He was suddenly glad he didn’t tell them he fucked you in his shower.

“Okay, what is the point of her?” he asked. He rolled his eyes at his annoying friend and took another swig from his beer.

“She makes a good point, Thor…why is she in your apartment?” Brunnhilde questioned. The bar they were sitting at suddenly felt stifling. Feeling claustrophobic, he downed the last of his beer and sighed heavily. He’d always hated alcohol but, in moments like these, he could understand why his father drank himself half to death.

“I couldn’t bear to see her leave just yet,” he whispered. Thor was at war with himself. He shouldn’t have kissed you. Kissing you again awakened a part of his soul he fought so hard to bury. It might shatter him if you left again…when you left again. He shouldn’t have had sex with you in his shower. Getting to lose himself in you even just for a little while soothed his aching heart that always seemed to miss you. It might shatter him if you left again…when you left again. He shouldn’t have let you stay. Seeing your face in his apartment again made it feel so much more like a home. The realization that you thought he turn his back on you after screwing you in the shower this morning sucker punched him. He shouldn’t have left you alone.

Even though last night was the first time he’d seen you in a long time, he knew you were struggling. When you lost your mother last year, he went to the funeral. You were the only one standing there as they lowered her into the ground. You didn’t cry. He studied you from a distance as you stood in silence while watching her grave be filled. When it was done you walked away, downing a flask. He meant to go up to you then, but he wasn’t sure you’d want to see him. He was the only one who knew how abusive your mother had been to you. She was an angry, bitter woman who lashed out at everyone. When her illness finally took her, you were the only one who seemed to care. He loved you for it.

As the months went by, it became harder and harder to pick up the phone and dial your number. He’d heard from your mutual friends that you’d taken to partying heavily. He was terrified of receiving that phone call that said you shared you mother’s fate. After Jane, he couldn’t bear to lose another person he loved. When you called last night, he was so relieved to hear your voice. You were his home. He shouldn’t have left you alone.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Brunnhilde

“I wish I knew.” Darcy and Brunnhilde nodded in understanding. They knew you were more than just an ex for Thor. You were, and still are, the love of his life. Thor flagged down the bartender to pay his tab. He had to face you sometime.

“Alright ladies, I should be getting back. Thanks for this.”

“Anytime, buddy. You know that.” Brunnhilde pulled him in for a hug and Darcy patted his shoulder in encouragement. Grabbing his things, he headed to his car.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t follow him? They could kill each other,” Darcy told Brunnhilde.

“They’ll be fine. They’re soulmates.”

Tag List

@emilyevanston  @arrow-guy @morgandakotaq @avengersandlovers  @fangirlingisloud @melonshino @myluvislikewow @daisykane535@palaisaurus64 @quicksilverbells @zuni21798 @thesaraaaaahpfan @itsmarshalltime98 @rebelslicious @nbaku @seargantbcky @mypanda-kun @redgillan @anotherotter @melaninmarvel @blackgirloneshots @brandnewberettaa @cheekylilspaff @memyselfandmaddox

#thor x reader #thor x woc #thor x oc #thor odinson x reader #odinson x reader #my fics #foster writes

[ankhlesbian]

FE Rarepair Week: Day 6

Prompt: Balls, from @ferarepair-week

Fandom: FE Echoes

Pairing: Celica/Mae

AO3 Link: Here

Length: ~2k words

Title: my feet to the beat of yours

To celebrate the alliance of Zofia and Rigel, Celica and Alm decide to throw an extravagant ball. Mae is, as Celica's best friend, of course invited. It's a little difficult being in love with your best friend, but Mae's been managing, even though the unrequited look doesn't really suit her. But, as it turns out, her feelings aren't as unrequited as she thinks.

“WOAHHHHHHH!” shouts Mae. “This place is A-MAZING!” She earns herself the disapproving stares of the guards on duty. Boey slaps his hand over her mouth.

“Quiet!” he hisses into her ear, too little, too late. Celica just looks amused, so Mae figures it wasn’t the worst offence in the world

“Sorry,” she whispers back, a little sheepish. “It’s just so different!”

Zofia Castle has changed a lot in the year or so since the last time they stepped foot here, in the midst of their journey to find Mila. Back then, it had been a little dusty and decrepit, freshly freed from the evil Chancellor Desaix. He clearly hadn’t taken good care of the place, a symptom of the times that even royalty couldn’t escape.

Now it’s freshly polished, newly furnished, and filled with busybody nobles and bustling guards. Celica’s changed too, dressed in elaborate robes with golden lining, a crown atop her head. She hasn’t seen her in forever, only exchanging letters. She looks a lot more stressed than she used to, her face a little more weary, with faint bags under her eyes and a lag in her step.

Celica leads them to a private room where they settle around a small table, and a servant brings them tea. Mae sniffs it warily before making the executive decision to dump a few good spoonfuls of sugar into it. Boey sighs.

“Just because you like gross bitter tea doesn’t mean I do, too.” she sticks out her tongue at him. Celica raises an eyebrow. “I mean, I’m sure it’s of the highest quality for tea and all, Celica, really! It’s just not my thing.” To further prove her point, she pours half the saucer of cream into her cup. Celica giggles, and Mae tries not to preen. Laughter looks good on her. It always has, and Mae’s always been good at inspiring it.

“I believe you. Maybe I’ll ask if there’s hot chocolate in the kitchens for you.” Her eyes twinkle.

Mae groans. “Don’t embarrass me in front of all your fancy friends! They’ll think I’m weird.”

“They probably already do.” says Boey helpfully. Mae smacks him.

“You bully me back in the Priory, we come all the way out here and you bully me here, too. I need better friends.” She takes a swig of her tea and wrinkles her nose. “Anyways, why did you call us? It’s great to see you, it’s just out of the blue, y’know?”

Celica smiles. “I swear it’s important. Zofia is officializing it’s alliance with Rigel, and Alm and I decided to throw a ball to celebrate. It’s open to the general public, of course. It would mean a lot to me if both of you would attend.”

There’s silence.

“Um, isn’t that a little formal for us?” Mae can’t help but ask. They’re not anyone special, just random mages from some random isolated island. Just because the ball thing is technically open to the public doesn’t mean it’ll be acceptable for them to attend. And she doesn’t even own anything fancy, anyways. And Boey can’t even dance, he’ll just look stupid there. She opens her mouth to voice her extremely valid concerns, but Celica cuts her off.

“I thought you may say that, which is why I invited you up here instead of just sending invitations. Alm and I want all the people we fought with there, and I want you there, as my closest friends. Genny’s already here. It’s tomorrow night.”

Mae’s heart flutters a bit at the praise, but Celica’s tone is a little off. Her eyes are dull, and she’s hiding a trembling hand behind her own cup of tea. Maybe the whole alliance idea is riskier than Mae thinks it is. Celica must be genuinely worried, so she can’t just not show up now. She’d be a terrible friend.

“You’ve become so devious,” she complains instead, waggling a finger at her.

“I do what I must to keep you two troublemakers in line.”

“Don’t blame me for Mae’s antics!” interjects Boey, offended. “I’m always perfectly presentable.”

Mae begins to list off all the times he’s made a scene by jumping at small noises, and Celica smiles, for real this time, and Mae hasn’t felt more at home in a while. She’d missed Celica with every fiber of her being before this, always feeling that empty space in her heart and in her conversations with Boey and Genny, all of them cognizant of the person missing from their dynamic, but everything feels right again right now, and that’s all that matters.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next day, Mae regrets her decision. Someone comes by to drop off breakfast for her and Boey, and tells them that a tailor will be coming by later that afternoon to help them pick out outfits.

“This was the worst idea ever,” Mae wails, pacing about the room in frustration. She’s usually not one to overthink things, but here she is. Maybe it’s just that she feels flustered from seeing Celica again. Stupid useless heart. Boey’s watching her carefully. He’s probably onto her, since she isn’t that great at hiding her feelings. It’s a miracle Celica hasn’t noticed.

“Just confess to her already.” Boey says, crossing his arms. “You’re being ridiculous.” Ok, he’s definitely onto her.

“You’re ridiculous. I’m not going to ruin our entire friendship just because I can’t handle a little pining.”

Boey rolls his eyes. “You really thing Celica would shun you for something like that? She’s a good person.” He has a point, but Mae doesn’t like it, so she chooses to ignore it.

“She’s a queen now, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. She couldn’t marry a commoner, anyways.”

He sighs. “I never thought I’d see the day you gave up so easily on something.”

She goes quiet, cowed by his words.

“Anyways,” she says, because when you’re losing an argument, it’s time to change the subject. “What do you think you’ll wear?” Despite her words, she kind of does want to wear something that’ll dazzle Celica. She’s never been the type to dress up, so hopefully this tailor guy will know what he’s doing when he gets here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mae tugs at her new clothes, a little unsure of herself. She takes a deep breath. I look great, I look great, I look great, she repeats over and over again. Boey had given her a thumbs up and a wink, said Celica would love it.

She had decided a dress wasn’t her style, and instead opted for black pants and a pink tunic, complete with a short cape. Boey had chosen something similar, but in green, and was standing anxiously beside her, confidence gone.

“Maybe we should skip after all,” he mumbled, eyeing the fancy outfits of the nobles passing them by. They were holed up in an alcove near the entrance to the chosen ballroom, huddling in a corner to avoid being seen.

“No, we have to now. But you get to go first.” And Mae pushes him forward. He stumbles out of the alcove, earning a few odd looks. He glares back at her, dusting himself off, and strolling to the doors casually. In he goes, and now Mae’s alone.

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, and charges in.

As expected, it’s extremely crowded. The decorations are gorgeous, the walls strung with banners of both Rigel and Zofia. The colors are a mix of reds and blues. There’s probably going to be a similar event in Rigel, too, since it’d be unfair to ask Rigelian citizens to travel all the way to Zofia Castle.

The musicians are playing lively music, starting the night off right. Mae does her best to mingle, and tries to pretend like she isn’t avoiding Celica. Celica looks amazing. Her hair is done up in an elaborate braided bun, held back by her tiara, her face framed with a veil. Her dress is lacey and elegant without being gaudy, and her makeup makes it look like she’s glowing. It’s an outfit worthy of a queen.

Of course, the ballroom is only so big, and Celica finds her eventually. She gives Mae a once over, eyes bright.

“You look gorgeous,” she says, and Mae blushes.

“You do too!” she blurts, and Celica smiles.

“Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?” she asks, holding out a gloved hand. Mae’s putty in her hands, and places one of her hands on Celica’s hip and links the fingers of her other with Celica’s.

“You’ll probably need to watch your toes. Dancing isn’t my strong point.”

Celica smirks.

“I know. I was there when you learned, remember? So many broken tables.” In her defense, whoever thought teaching children how to dance in an enclosed space was an idiot. Mae huffs.

They keep chatting, swaying casually, and then the universe decides it hates Mae. She’d blame Mila or Duma, except she knows it can’t be, but there’s definitely still someone out there and they have a vendetta against her. The music goes slow and romantic, The sound of soft piano playing and the soulful hum of a violin fill the air.

Her and Celica lock eyes, and Mae goes to pull away, but Celica grips her shoulder tight and tugs her closer.

“One last dance?”

Mae can’t refuse, and so they press close, Mae extra careful not to ruin this by actually stomping on Celica’s exposed toes. The song reaches it climax, and wanting to enjoy this, because who knows when she’ll see Celica again after tonight, she trips her purposefully. Celica yelps and Mae grins, catching her before she hits the ground, executing a perfect dip.

Celica looks a tad exasperated, but then she simply laughs, exuberant. The song ends, and Celica rights herself, but she still doesn’t let go of Mae. Instead, her expression softens, and her eyes take on a determined gleam.

“I need you to come with me.” She pulls Mae by the hand, weaving between the crowd, heading for one of the balconies. Mae furrows her brows, but doesn’t protest.

The night air is cool, and the stars twinkle overhead. The moon is almost full. It’s a beautiful night, not a single cloud in the sky. Celica shuts the doors to the balcony behind them with finality.

“Are you going to return to Novis Isle after this?” Her words are oddly stilted.

Mae shrugs stiffly, not sure what’s happening. “Well, yeah. I don’t know what else I’d really do.”

Celica bites her lip, turning her gaze to the landscape.

“You know, if- if you wanted, you could stay here. In the castle.”

Mae frowns. “I appreciate the thought, Celica, I really do, but I don’t really belong here. All this fancy politics stuff, or the chivalric life of a knight, it doesn’t fit me.”

“It could.” Celica says softly. “You could belong here. With me.”

Surely, she doesn’t mean…

“We can be friends from far away. I’ll always be your best friend, distance or no distance.”

Celica inhales unsteadily, still not looking at her.

“And if I didn’t mean as a friend?”

Okay, that’s enough of talking in a circles. She steps whirls Celica around her. She can’t keep the hopeful look off her face.

“You mean, you like me? Like, like like me?”

Celica’s face goes red. “Well, yes. To put it bluntly. I’ve said it before, but you’re wonderful, and kind, and always cheerful and there for me. I don’t want to lose you.”

Mae beams. “You read my mind! You’re thoughtful, and sweet, when you aren’t tricking your friends into attending your parties.” She clasps Celica’s hands in her own, squeezing tightly. “Oh, this is the best night EVER!”

Celica breaks into a grin. “I had hoped that’s what you would say.” She leans forward, planting a kiss on Mae’s cheek. “You don’t have to stay here, if you really do find all this royalty business that dreadful. But I would greatly prefer if you would visit often.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mae promises, bouncing on her toes. “You’ve got me all riled up. How ‘bout we go dance some more, huh Celica? Show all those snotty nobles who’s boss.”

Celica rolls her eyes fondly, and back into the ballroom they go.

#ferarepairweek #maelica #celimae #mae/celica #celica (fe) #mae (fe) #it writes

[sunlightdances]

Love Laid Down (Part One)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Rating: M Words: 2K+ (this part) Summary: You and the boys are working a long-term case in Indiana that requires you go undercover. It also requires that you and Dean pretend to be married. Author’s Note: This is my first multi-chap on this blog! I’ve tried my best to write the majority of it beforehand, but please be gentle if I don’t upload super regularly. I’ll queue up what’s already written and try to get the rest of it done ASAP. Thanks for reading! (PS - title comes from the song of the same name by Green River Ordinance.)

“No.” Dean says, firm, his voice echoing loud in the library of the bunker.

“Don’t worry about hurting my feelings, or anything…” you mutter quietly, and Sam sighs.

“Can the both of you relax? This is a good plan. It’s only going to be for a week or so, anyway.”

“It’s not our kind of thing,” Dean argues, crossing his arms over his chest. “People go missing all the time.”

“Four people in the last month? All of whom went to the same church in this one small town? That’s weird, Dean.” Sam says.

Dean has that look on his face that he gets when he knows he’s wrong, but doesn’t want to admit it. You look at Sam. “So,” you start, “What does that have to do with us going undercover?”

“The parishioners of that church are mostly married couples. This isn’t the type of town where single people move to for work or something. People move here because they’re trying to start a family.”

You try not to gulp, looking back over at Dean, who is still glaring at his brother.

“How are we going to explain you being there?”

Sam grins. “I’m the super supportive younger brother helping his newlywed brother and sister-in-law move into their new home.”

“This is going to be a disaster.” You say brightly, your calm tone betraying your words. You’ve done undercover with the Winchesters before. It almost never works out as planned. Someone always slips up, or forgets they’re supposed to be someone else for longer than a day, and then you’re left scrambling not to get caught by the local PD. “When do we leave?”

.

.

.

You’re packing some clothes and whatever you’ll need for a week along with your hunting supplies in boxes (“it’ll look more realistic if you’re moving boxes”, Sam said) when Dean knocks on the frame of your door.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure.” You say, shoving a box over so he can sit on the edge of the bed.

“If this makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it.” He says, and his face is so earnest, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

“Dean, it’s a fake marriage. It’s fine. We live together anyway.”

“Make sure you pack nicer clothes. For church.” He clarifies, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. You glare - you hate dressing outside of your comfort zone.

You sigh. “Fine. Since when are you so on board with this, anyway?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Didn’t want to hear Sam bitch about it anymore. Besides, how hard can it be? I’ll hold your hand and we’ll suffer through an hour of church on Sunday, and kick ass the other days.” He tries to grin at you, but it’s forced, and awkwardness settles over the room.

“Are you going to get a suit?” You ask, and he grimaces.

“Why? I already have one.”

You roll your eyes. “You can’t wear your fed suit to church. It’s old.”

“I hate shopping.”

“Just get a new jacket and pants. Wear the blue button up. It looks nicer on you.” You say, folding a few more shirts. You don’t really think about it before the words are out of your mouth, but a lack of response from Dean has you looking up, meeting his eyes.

He grins at you, his head tilted, and you groan.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He saunters back towards the door. “Just glad you take a few minutes out of your day to check me out. That’s all.”

“You are literally the worst. I hope you know that.” You say, flinging a throw pillow at him as he heads out the door, the sound of his laugh echoing in the hallway.

.

The next day, the three of you pile into the Impala and head for Indiana. You and Dean have shiny wedding bands on your left ring fingers, and you sort of hate the way your heart stuttered when Dean handed yours to you. There wasn’t any fanfare about it, he just mumbled something about getting this out of the way and took your hand, sliding the ring on before you knew what he was doing.

He barely looks at you after, and there’s something familiar about the ring he slides on his own hand. You’re hardly able to take your eyes off your hand, the added weight unfamiliar but somehow comfortable.

The car ride takes the entire day. It’s pretty much a straight shot to the other side of Kansas, through Missouri and Illinois, and then you’re in Indiana. Sam says that an area hunter close to Indianapolis pulled some strings with a realtor to find a house right in the middle of the quaint downtown.

Dean pulls into the driveway just after nine, and you’re not surprised to see the town already looks like it’s closed for business. Towns like this don’t have midnight operating hours. The house you’re staying in is just how you pictured it - an old style craftsman home complete with painted shutters and a wraparound porch.

“Probably should have brought a less conspicuous car,” you think out loud, and the glare Dean sends your way as he grabs your bag out of the trunk makes you shrink backwards. “Just a thought. Calm down.”

“Let’s get some sleep.” He says gruffly, and you feel a pang of guilt - he drove the entire way, only stopping a few times for gas and snacks, and you can see how weighed down his eyelids are. “We’ll come up with a plan in the morning.”

As promised by the realtor, the key is under the mat, and Sam unlocks the doors as you look around, feeling a prickling on the back of your neck that usually lets you know someone’s watching you. “You feel that?” You murmur quietly to the brothers, and Dean clenches his jaw.

“We’ll salt the doors and windows, just in case.”

Inside, you take a minute to look around. You have to admit, the house is a lot like the one you always picture in your daydreams about living a normal life. You know it’s stupid to even waste time thinking about a life where you’re not constantly surrounded by monsters and death omens, but every now and then you do think about it.

“There’s three bedrooms, so take whichever one you want.” Sam interrupts your thoughts, and you nod at him. “I’m going upstairs. Lock up behind you,” he says, smiling gently.

You notice that Dean has already gone to bed, and sigh as the faint light from the moon catches on the band on your ring finger. This is going to be a long, awkward couple of days, you think to yourself.

.

.

.

In the morning, you wake up as the sun starts to creep into the room, and you jolt upright. You never sleep this long. You get up and stumble into the bathroom attached to your bedroom, trying to familiarize yourself with the space. You shower and brush your teeth before getting dressed and head downstairs, mouth practically watering as you smell breakfast.

Dean’s at the stove, spatula in hand, and the corner of his mouth turns up as he sees you. “Sleeping beauty,” he says, handing you a steaming mug, and you scowl, taking it from him.

“Someone should have woken me up.”

“Not like we got a whole lot of plans today, sweetheart.” He says, dishing up three plates of potatoes and scrambled eggs.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Went for a run. This whole suburb thing is perfect for him.” Dean says grumpily, and you smile, trying not to laugh.

“You do any research yet?”

“Not yet. Just brought what we had at the bunker. Thought today you and I could go introduce ourselves to the Pastor at the church.”

“Is that how it works?” You make a face. “I thought we could just show up on Sunday.”

Dean sits next to you at the kitchen island, and you automatically hand him the salt and pepper shakers as he hands you the ketchup. “I’ll case the place a little bit while you’re there telling him all about our domestic bliss.” He smirks, digging into his eggs.

“Yeah, okay.” You agree, not liking the idea of splitting up before you know what you’re dealing with, but you figure the church is the easiest place to start.

When Sam comes back from his run, he showers and changes and tells you and Dean he’s going to the library to see what else he can find out about the missing church-goers. The three of you plan to meet up at a diner you drove past on the way in after your meeting at the church, and Sam tries (and fails) not to laugh at you as you struggle to get comfortable in the sundress you packed specifically for an occasion where you need to look like you have your life together.

“Ready to go?” Dean asks, giving you a quick onceover. You nod, and he continues, “Thought we could walk. The church isn’t too far.” Then, quieter, “And you’re probably right about the car being obvious.”

“Score one for me.” You say, nudging his ribs with your elbow, and he rolls his eyes, smiling fondly at you.

“Come on, Mrs. Winchester.” He says, and you make an excuse after you stumble a little bit, the title sounding so strange coming out of his mouth that you don’t really know what to do with yourself.

Dean’s right - it takes a quick five minutes to walk through the downtown and get to the church - five minutes during which Dean goes through a complete transformation. He smiles and says hello to everyone you pass, and even stops to help an old woman load groceries into the trunk of her car.

You’re staring, you know, but it’s just so weird. Not that Dean isn’t a good person. Despite what he thinks, you know he’s one of the best men you know, but it’s never this overt.

“Just trying to play my part, kid. You could try it, you know.” He grumbles when he catches your wide-eyed look.

“I don’t think I could do a better job than you. You’re being more than neighborly enough for the both of us.” You tease, and he flushes.

“Good morning,” a voice calls from in front of the church, and you look up to see a middle-aged woman with pruning shears in her hand coming towards you, a smile on her face. “I’m sorry for being so nosy, but I don’t think I know the two of you.”

“We’re the Winchesters,” you say, introducing yourself and Dean.

“I’m Melissa! I work here at the church doing… well, all sorts of things.” She says, smiling, and that feeling of being watched comes back to you almost worse than it was the night before.

Dean’s smile is tight, but it goes unnoticed to Melissa, who keeps talking about how nice it is to see new faces at the church.

“We’re hoping to speak with the Pastor, to introduce ourselves before the service on Sunday.” Dean says, and Melissa positively lights up.

“That is so nice of you! He’ll be so happy to meet you. Let me go inside and make sure he’s not busy, and I’ll be back in a jiff. You can wait right in here, in the lobby.” She says, leading you inside the classic looking church.

As soon as she’s gone, Dean is looking around warily. “Was it just me, or does she seem a little Stepford to you?”

“She does all sorts of things?” You ask. “Am I just being paranoid, or does that sound super creepy?”

“Definitely creepy.” Dean whispers, looking up to see Melissa coming back with a well dressed man who you assume is the Pastor.

“Hi there,” he says, holding out his hand for Dean to shake. “I’m Pastor Williams. Melissa tells me you’re new to town?”

“Just moved in this weekend.” You say, smiling. “We were hoping to come to Sunday service, but didn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense! We’d be happy to have you.”

He starts asking Dean about work and the move, and you zone out for a minute, taking in the surroundings of the church. It just seems so… dark, inside. For a building that has access to this much natural light, it seems strange that the interior doesn’t match the bright outdoors covered with beautiful landscaping.

Dean says your name, and your gaze snaps to his, where his face is tinged with impatience. You want to roll your eyes, but don’t. “Thank you,” you say sweetly, to Pastor Williams. “We’ll be seeing you Sunday, then.”

“Don’t be strangers,” he replies, shaking Dean’s hand. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around town.”

Dean leads you out the front door, his hand hovering over the small of your back. As soon as you’re outside and out of earshot, you turn to him.

“There’s something weird about that place. Did you notice how dark it was in there?”

“So what are you thinking? Spirits?”

You shake your head. “Have you ever met a spirit that kidnapped people?”

“We’ll have to do more digging. We don’t even know if these missing people are alive.”

“Can we eat first?” You complain, your stomach growling on cue.

Dean glances sideways at you as you walk down to the center of town. “We had breakfast a half hour ago.”

“Come on. I’ll buy you pie.”

Dean grins, laughing. “Now you’re talking.” He slings his arm around your shoulders as you walk to the diner down the street, and you laugh with him, trying to ignore the feeling you haven’t been able to shake since the night before - someone is watching you.

Part two.

#love laid down fic #spn reader insert #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader

[marvelfandomthings]

The Weekend Getaway

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is for @promarvelfangirl’s 2k follower writing challenge. Congrats on 2k followers!

Bucky and reader have a long and established relationship at this point. 

Prompt: Stargazing

Summary: It was supposed to be your weekend getaway with Bucky, but things don’t seem to go your way when you get lost in the woods. That is, until the stars seem to align in your favor.

Word Count: ~1,900 (Apparently, it’s impossible for me to write anything under 1,000 words)

Warnings: Fluff. (Actually, this is my first attempt at real fluff so bear with me.)

Masterlist

“Make sure you have a light jacket with you, Doll,” Bucky calls out to me from the bathroom as I’m putting the last of my camping gear into my backpack.

“I already have one on,” I reply, zipping up my backpack and heading towards the door. “And now I’m all packed and ready to go,” I smile at Bucky as he makes his way out the bathroom.

“Great,” he smiles at me while slinging his backpacking pack onto his back. “You ready for our weekend getaway?” he asks as he slings his arm around my shoulder and leading me out the door, towards the common room.

“Of course! I’ve been looking forward to this all month. A whole two days away from the team after months on the field with them, what more could I ask for?” I say, giving Bucky’s waist a quick squeeze.

As we get to the common room I see Sam and Steve sitting on the couch, their attention on the TV in front of them. Steve notices us first and gives us a wide grin, “You guys headed to that camping trip?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys were doing that. I can’t believe you didn’t invite me Y/N,” Sam accuses me, a small grin forming on his face.

“Well, I didn’t want you to break a nail or something. Who knows how you’d handle that,” you sass at him.

“That’s true. Got to keep these perfect nails of mine in pristine condition. Can’t do any of that outdoors stuff,” Sam replies while bringing up his nails to his face to inspect them, keeping the act up.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re staying at the compound with me for a movie marathon then,” Steve says, nudging Sam in the side. Steve then turns his attention towards us, “You kids have fun.”

“Oh, we will,” Bucky says, waggling his eyebrows.

I let out a laugh, bumping Bucky with my shoulder, “We’ll have to see about that. But anyway, we’re going to head out now,” I say with a wave, heading towards the garage now.

“Be safe,” Steve bids.

“Bring me back a souvenir,” Sam adds.

“We’ll bring you an acorn,” I reply over my shoulder.

“Finally!” I exclaim, jumping out of the car and stretching my arms out towards the sky.

We finally made it to the gravel parking lot of the campsite we were planning on staying at. There’s only a few cars here, so I’m expecting us to have a relatively quiet getaway.

“It was only a two-hour drive,” Bucky chuckles, opening the trunk of the SUV we drove here.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” I say with a shrug.

We both get our backpacks onto our backs. I go to grab the tent but Bucky beats me to it.

“I’ll get that, Doll. This is supposed to be your vacation,” Bucky says, leaning over to give my temple a peck.

“This is why I love you,” I tell him, letting out a content sigh.

Bucky lets out a laugh and closes the trunk of the car. “If this is what has you swooning, I would have done it five years ago,” he says. “You ready?” he continues to asks.

“Since last week,” I holler as we make our way towards the discrete trail that leads to the campsite.

“Bucky, just admit it. We’re lost,” I sigh out, sweat beading on my forehead despite the cool breeze in the air.

“No, this is just a little detour. Don’t worry about it too much, Doll,” Bucky replies with a nervous chuckle.

“I don’t even see the trail anymore,” I try to reason with him.

“It’s because the campsite’s in a hidden location,” Bucky tries to explain.

I give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it is a little further down and I’m just being whiny.

Bucky suddenly comes to a halt, holding his arm in front of me to stop me as well, “Wait, do you hear that?” he questions.

I stop for a second and listen closely. There’s a faint sound of water hitting a shore in the distance. “It sounds like water,” I say, a small smile forming on my face.

“I told you I knew where I was going,” Bucky hoots out while making a sudden turn towards the sound of the water.

We walk for another 30 minutes before we see the shore of a lake. It doesn’t seem to be the campsite we were planning on staying at because there’s no one else around, but it looks like this is where we’ll be camping anyway.

It’s not that large of a lake so we can see all sides of it. The forest we just walked through surrounds the crystal clear, blue lake. There’s a yard or two of sandy shore before it turns into a grassy field that disappears into the trees behind us.

“This is perfect,” I say with a content sigh.

“It is,” Bucky replies, walking towards the sandy shore. “Let’s set up camp here,” he continues, pointing out a spot in the middle of the field, not too far from the sandy shore.

I agree and set my things down so I can help Bucky set up the tent.

“Okay, let’s do this thing,” I say with a loud clap of my hands.

“We did it!” I exclaim as I stand back to look at our work. 

The tent is now standing and we have a fire pit with a crackling fire not too far from it. I took the initiative and set up a picnic blanket in between the tent and fire so we’d be able to use it at anytime. 

“That we did, Doll. That we did,” Bucky says slowly, stepping closer to me and bringing his left arm around my waist, giving me a squeeze. I follow his lead and bring my arm around his waist.

“It just took us, you know, a good two and a half hours,” I say with a laugh, crinkling my nose and looking up at Bucky.

Bucky looks down at me with a laugh, “You’d think us Avengers would know how to set up a tent quicker.”

We both get a good laugh before we turn back to look at our handy work.

“It looks like we finished just in time, Doll,” Bucky says, pointing out the setting sun.

“It’s beautiful,” I breath.

And it is. The setting sun turns the sky into the perfect hue of pinks, blues, oranges, and purples. All the while, the sun is in the perfect position to halo the trees in front of us, creating a silhouette. Everything’s reflected onto the clear water in front of us while the water gently laps at the shore. It feels truly peaceful out here.

Bucky suddenly takes my hand and gently tugs me towards the picnic blanket that’s set between the tent and fire pit. We sit down for a minute just to appreciate the quite nature around us. Living in the Avengers compound doesn’t allow for much time like this.

We sit there in silence, just appreciating each other’s presence. We sit like that until the sun fully makes its way over the horizon. Once the color’s gone from the sky, Bucky lays back on the blanket. I shuffle myself closer to him before laying down next to him, resting my head onto his shoulder.

“Wow,” Bucky gasps out. 

“We found the perfect campsite, hidden away from the rest of the world. We got our perfect sunset and now we have this breathtakingly beautiful starry sky,” I quietly say, fully appreciating the view above us.

It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. The sky’s crystal clear, not a cloud in sight, so we’re able to see the billions and billions of stars that are twinkling in the night sky, flickering in and out, light years away. The full moon casts the perfect light onto us, illuminating the night sky. 

Just as I’m about to look over at Bucky, I see a shooting star soar across the sky. I let out a gasp, this being the first time I’ve actually seen one.

“Make a wish, Doll,” Bucky whispers, tightening his arm around me to bring me even closer to him.

And I do. I close my eye, make a wish, and gently open my eyes again. I look over at Bucky. He has his eyes open and he’s still looking up at the stars. If I look close enough, I can see the reflection of the stars and moon in his eyes. “What did you wish for,” I ask quietly.

“You first,” he asks, turning his head so he can see me.

“I wished for you,” I say sincerely, turning my body so I’m fully facing him.

A small smile forms on his face and a look of adoration fills his eyes.

“Now tell me, what you wished for?” I continue to ask.

Bucky repositions himself so he’s facing me, his head propped onto his left hand and his right hand cupping my cheek, making gentle circles with his thumb, “I wished for you, too. I wished I’d get to see that twinkle in your eyes every time you watch your favorite show. I wished I’d get to see that smile you smile, with the little crinkle in your nose, every morning when I wake up. I wished that you’d be mine as long as there are stars in the night sky,” he confesses. He slowly sits up and brings me up with him so that we’re both sitting, facing each other. “I was going to wait to do this later. I had this whole thing planned out, but I think this works out better,” he continues softly. He shuffles around, digging around in his pocket before bringing up his fisted hand.

I look up at him confused.

“I want you to be mine,” Bucky says again, flipping his hand over and uncurling his fingers so I can see what he held in his hand. And right there in the middle of his palm is a simple diamond ring.

My eyes widen, tears already forming in my eyes, “Bucky,” I breath out.

“What do you say, Doll. Be mine? For as long as the star’s shine in the night sky?” he asks.

I’m speechless, but I’m able to get out a quiet, “Yes,” before I jump towards him, throwing my arms around his neck and tucking my face into the side of his neck.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I quietly chant.

I can feel him chuckle, “Let me put this ring on you, Y/N,” he says, gently pushing me away from him so he can reach my hand.

I nod, bringing my left hand in between us. Bucky brings the ring to my hand and slips it onto my ring finger. It looks even better now that I see it like this, sitting on my finger, looking so delicate.

Bucky brings his his right hand to my cheek again before bringing his lips to mine, gently kissing me. I close my eyes, wanting to be in this moment as much as possible. It seems like forever before we pull away from each other. But when we do, we’re both smiling like lunatics, high on this moment between us.

“I love you,” I declare.

“Not as much as I love you,” he replies.

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