#I just came across the article and wanted to share

[moonchildstyles]

have you ever thought about doing a third person - not in the relationship - point of view for bodyguard h? like maybe the public's opinion as it becomes clear that they’re together? love your work!

wordcount: 2.3k+

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"Dude, shut up. Look." 

Winnie swallowed her words, halfway offended that Danni had cut her off so rudely. She was about to fire back at him, remind him that she was the reason they had even been able to secure seats at this place and afford more than a crumb of bread—until she followed where he was suddenly gesturing towards.

Under the dim lighting of the restaurant, shrugging out of her taupe coat with a familiar face holding her chair out for her was (Y/N)—the (Y/N). The most notorious socialite of New York. Winnie had just looked at her instagram on the cab ride over here, and now there she was. With her "bodyguard". 

"That's who I think it is, right?" Danni asked from across from her, his voice suddenly hushed. 

"That's her," Winnie confirmed, tearing her gaze away from the now occupied table, fearing she would be caught staring. "She just posted on her Insta story in that outfit." 

Danni obviously shared none of Winnie's qualms with the way he craned his neck, attempting to get a better view around the table sitting between their booth and the now high profile one stationed behind it. "Who is she with? Is it that same guy from the 132 Gala?" 

"I think so," Winnie muttered, chancing a glance in their direction, "She says he's just her bodyguard, though." 

"That's the bodyguard?" Danni blanched, a pinch appearing between his brows with an incredulous look on his face, "There's no fucking way. They're obviously on a date." 

Feeding off of some of Danni's confidence, Winnie pinned her gaze on their table. It really did look like they were on a date. Maybe it was just the lighting of the place or the fact that she is (Y/N), but the way he looked at her couldn't just be that of a man whose job was to be around her. Since when did bodyguards share a table with their client, anyway? Even from where their booth was situated, Winnie swore she could see the hooded set to his eyes and every soft edge to his features as he gazed at her.

It was the way he looked at her in every photo of the pair of them together, every picture that was posted to the feed with articles dissecting everything about (Y/N) and whatever it was that had transpired the night before at whatever party she attended. He was always right there, at her side with something more than professionalism guiding him. 

"You think so?" Winnie asked, canting her head as a bottle of wine was delivered to the spotlighted table.  

Before Danni could make any kind of argument, they watched as (Y/N) had poured herself a tiny glass of the red wine and took a sip before passing it across the table to her bodyguard. They saw him take a drink from the same spot she had pressed her own lips without a thought. Apparently he must have liked the wine seeing as (Y/N) ended up pouring another glass for him. 

"Obviously," Danni said, no room for argument. 

Just then, their waiter came by with his hands loaded with plates. "Is there anything else I can grab for you tonight?" he asked as he passed out their dishes, a pleasant smile on his face. He was the same one that had dropped off the wine at (Y/N)'s table—Winnie almost wanted to ask if he thought the pair of them were on a date, too.

"I think we're alright, thank you," Danni spoke up, fluttering his curled lashes up at the waiter. 

Once they were alone again, Winnie couldn't help herself, she had to take another look at their table . She caught (Y/N) letting out a peal of laughter, her bodyguard looking at her with dimpled cheeks and a smug smile. 

"I just read something that said she was hooking up with this F1 guy, though," Winnie prattled, recalling the professional photos from the speedway and the grainy pictures from the private afterparty where she talked to one of the racers. Now thinking about it, she could remember some of the shots with her bodyguard hovering just out of frame or right at her side—as per usual.

"Maybe, they're open," Danni shrugged, twirling his pasta around his fork, "I don't know, but there's no way they haven't at least slept together with the way they're looking at each other." 

Winnie couldn't argue with that. The evidence was right in front of her. She wished she was a little bit closer, just so she could hear what they were saying. 

"Maybe," Winnie settled, letting the subject go to focus on her own dinner. 

Despite Danni distracting her with another avenue of conversation, Winnie couldn't help herself but to look over every now and then. It was like cinema, a scene in a film she didn't want to miss if she didn't have to.

More than once, she caught (Y/N) laughing with her inhibitions thrown out, her bodyguard looking on with affection in his eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the lighting, but there was a moment Winnie swore she could see (Y/N) leaning across the table and touching his hand or nudging his foot just under the hem of the tablecloth. By the time their meals made it to their table, she and Danni were almost done with their own dinner, but she still caught the way bites of food were shared upon the same fork. 

They were doing everything just short of kissing, it seemed like: sharing food, sharing glasses, leaning across the table, whispering as if there was no one else in the restaurant. 

"I'm going to go to the bathroom before we leave," Winnie said, excusing herself from the table once their plates were clear and the check had been taken. 

"Okay," Danni acknowledged, barely looking up from his phone as he calculated the tip. 

While she definitely had to use the restroom, there was a bit of strategy in wanting to pass by their table on the off chance that she might be able to overhear anything. Was it a bit nosy? Sure, but it wasn't like she was planning on tweeting or posting anything she might glean from the moment—Winnie just liked knowing things.

Stepping away from the booth, she took the long way around, passing by the table with distractedly slow steps as she pretended to be on her phone. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see (Y/N) toying with the small dessert menu. "Did you want to try the strawberry shortcake, mon amour?" 

Winnie's steps almost faltered. Was that French or something? Despite the little knowledge of language outside of her own, even Winnie knew that amour had to be something about love. She was calling him her love?

As much as she wanted to stick around and see what he had to say, there was no way she was blowing her cover any more than she probably already had. Heading to the bathroom, Winnie had to leave her curiosities behind.

After using the restroom, she didn't linger for too long before she was venturing back into the dining area. Passing by (Y/N)'s table, she couldn't help but minutely slow her steps. 

By now there was a small tower of strawberry shortcake in the middle of their table, replacing the candle and votive that had been placed there before. A spoon with the perfect bite of a bit of sponge cake, strawberry slices, and whipped cream was held aloft in the bodyguard's hand. 

"Y'have the first bite, sweet girl." 

Winnie's eyes widened as she kept her pace and passed by. There was no way to misunderstand that. The friends she knew didn't call each other such affectionate names.

Hurrying back to Danni, Winnie was almost bursting with her newly gleaned information. 

"Danni, Danni—" she started, only to be cut off by his own bursting tone. 

"You missed it, I can't believe it!" he stage whispered, gaze locked on her as she slid back into the booth.

"No, seriously, guess what I heard when I passed them," Winnie started, attempting to hook his attention though Danni didn't seem to be taking the bait at all. 

"They kissed," Danni interrupted, his voice considerably lower than before, "Literally right before you came out of the bathroom, they kissed. They're totally fucking." 

Winnie sat back, almost cursing herself for missing out on the perfect moment. Glancing back to their table, they were engrossed in one another while sharing their dessert. The longer she looked at the bodyguard, she couldn't blame (Y/N) at all. Even with whatever billionaire or celebrities were knocking on (Y/N)'s door, she doubted there were any that could compare to the way that man looked at her. (Or just looked in general).

"When I was walking past them, she called him love in, like, French or something, and he called her his sweet girl." 

Danni followed her line of sight and saw them share another whipped cream filled bite of cake. "That's actually really cute. I really hope they're dating, otherwise that's kind of a bummer for him because he's clearly in love with her." 

The longer they looked at them, Winnie had an idea pinging in her head. "Do you think it would be weird if we went and said hi or something?" 

Waving her off, Danni shook his head. "No, she probably gets it all the time." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, Winnie wasn't completely convinced. "I don't know, though. She's supposed to be kind of mean, sometimes." 

"Who cares," Danni answered with a shrug, "If she is, at least we know that's just how she is and that it isn't us." 

While this wasn't usually something Winnie liked to do, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to at least say hello. It was too surreal of circumstances to pass up on—she had been browsing (Y/N)'s Instagram and story on the way to this restaurant tonight, and now she was right there. She had probably learned things tonight that the media had been itching for, for months.

"Okay, let's do it before I get too nervous," Winnie pushed, picking up her coat and bag just as quickly as Danni had his phone put away and was sliding out of the booth. 

Danni took the helm as they approached the table, the bodyguard's eyes catching them long before (Y/N) had. 

"Are you (Y/N)?" Danni asked, ducking down enough so that he didn't have to speak too loud in the middle of the dining area. 

Perking up in her seat, (Y/N) turned around with a swish of her hair. A pleasant expression was stitched on her features with a quiet smile and soft eyes. 

"Yes, hi," she greeted them, looking up from where she was seated with the center of her lips tinted strawberry. 

"Hi," Danni smiled, turning on the performer persona he had been honing since his NYU days, "I hope we're not interrupting, but my friend and I wanted to say hi before we left for the night." 

"Oh no, you're totally fine," (Y/N) chirped, casting her gaze across to take in Winnie as well, "What are your names?" 

"I'm Danni, and this is my friend Winnie," he introduced, gesturing to his side where Winnie could see the less than impressed expression worn by (Y/N)'s bodyguard—boyfriend. 

"Nice to meet you guys," (Y/N) smiled, engaging with her full attention, "Are you having a good night so far?" 

Taking the opportunity to pipe up given the fact that this was her idea in the first place, Winnie gave her own grin to the woman she had only ever seen this close up on Instagram. Weirdly enough, she was one of those people that looked better in person as opposed to photos, which was insane given just how gorgeous she was in photos, too. 

"This is our first time trying this place, but it was really good," Winnie said, catching the assessing glare from across the table as she shifted her weight, "This is so weird, honestly. On the Uber ride over here, I was just looking at your Instagram and looking up the blush you were wearing in your story." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, not at all perturbed by the admission. She actually seemed to brighten at the new avenue of conversation, her lashes fluttering with her posture straightening. "It's a Charlotte Tilbury blush one of my friends is letting me borrow! I can't remember the name, but it's this really pink one with this shimmer circle in the middle. It's super pretty, I'm probably going to have to get my own." 

This was going better than almost every rumor Winnie had ever read about (Y/N). Her smile widened. 

"Thank you! I might get one, too. Then, we'll match," Winnie said, beginning to edge away from the table, not wanting to overstay their welcome, "We have to head out, but thank you for talking for a minute. I hope you guys have a nice rest of your night." 

Winnie shot her smile towards the quiet boyfriend across the table, hoping to soften him some now that they were leaving his girlfriend alone. It didn't appear to work, mostly because he had his eyes on (Y/N). 

"Of course, thank you guys for being so nice!" (Y/N) beamed, wiggling her fingers in a small wave "I hope you end up getting the blush! Have a good night." 

With that, Winnie started heading towards the restaurant's entrance with Danni at her side. 

Once they were far away, underneath his breath, Danni muttered, "You don't even wear blush." 

"I know, but I didn't know what else to say." 

"It was your idea to go talk to her," Danni laughed. 

Winnie only shook her head, feeling a bit rattled at the swift meeting. When she moved to New York, she knew there was a high chance that she was going to run into celebrities here and there, but she had always said she wouldn't be able to handle talking to any of them. This experience only proved right. 

Now she had to go out and buy an expensive blush. 

—————

thank you so much for reading the first elan blurb! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any ideas to share please send them in!

[foreingersgod]

If you can could you do a Caitlin Clark x reader with angst? Thank youuu

votes are in! we’re going with angst to fluff for this one!

Regrets . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin says something to you during an argument that she immediately regrets

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

caitlin was a phenomenal athlete. she was good at what she did, blowing everyone away and breaking records, all while doing well in school and balancing the other parts of her life. you absolutely admired her for it, amazed by how perfect a person could be. she was so good to you, as her girlfriend, giving you equal support and love.

you on the other hand, were never an athlete, your dream was to pursue writing or journalism. you loved to write more than anything in the world and you knew from a very young age that that was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. you often wrote small stories in your free time or touched up on trending articles, trying to write as much as you could. throughout your college years, you’ve been interning and taking classes to get you into a good position for your career.

you’ll admit, it was a very competitive career to go into, but you were determined to succeed. caitlin was always at your side, too, rooting for you every step of the way.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it was a tuesday night, you were at home cleaning and fixing up dinner. caitlin was still out, something about a meeting with a few scouts. she didn’t say much about and said that she’d tell you all about it when she got home.

so you waited patiently, finishing up dinner and waiting for cait to get home. you pulled out your laptop while you awaited her arrival, beginning to work on an important paper you were writing for your journalism course. as you typed away at the keyboard, you felt your phone vibrate. you pulled out your phone, curious to see who was texting you.

cait <3: really big news when i get home, can’t wait to tell you

your heart started to beat a little faster, eager to hear what it was. you knew how hard she had been working to get the attention of some of these scouts so you hoped it was finally paying off for her.

as you were finishing up a paragraph for your article, you heard the lock of the front door jostling, hinges creaking as it opened. your eyes darted to the door right away, watching as caitlin walked in, positively glowing. she hung up her jacket and took off her shoes all with a huge smile on her face. you found yourself smiling too, her happiness contagious.

“hey, babe” you swooned “how was the meeting? big news?”

she came over to you, standing behind the counter opposite of you chair. “YN, it was life changing! you’re never gonna believe it, it’s like a dream come true”

her eyes were wide with excitement, still shaking from receiving the news. she had you anxious as you waited for her to spill. you closed your laptop half way to give her full attention, pushing it aside.

“what?” you questioned “the anticipation is killing me!”

“well,” she took a breathy pause for dramatic effect “a few of the scouts that i was talking to approached me after the meeting. they were telling me about how they’re recruiting for the women’s olympic basketball team…and long story short, they want me on the team! baby im playing in the olympics!”

“holy shit, you’re kidding!” you leaped out of your seat, rushing around the counter to congratulate her “that’s amazing, oh my god, i’m so proud of you!”

you hugged her tightly, smoothing your hands across her back.

“thank you, i’m freaking out still, it’s so surreal” she felt like crying “we’re going paris, YN!”

she was still on cloud nine, starting to text friends and family to share the good news, but you had stepped back thinking you heard her wrong. you? the both of you? paris? while you were aware that the events would be an international occasion, you hadn’t realized it would be that far away. you had just assumed you would do a bit of long distance for the time being, caitlin going to play and you staying here to take care of things and focus on journalism. noticing you had pulled away, caitlin sent her last text and turned back to you.

“hey are you ok?” she asked “went all quiet on me”

“hm? oh yea i just,” you started picking at your nails, nervous to bring up the conversation “it’s just that you said ‘we’?”

her infectious laugh rang through your living room “of course, you’re my girl, i want you there with me”

“cait, you know i’d love to be there for you in person and come with but…but i can’t just go babe” you said, apologetically.

your entire soul shattered seeing the look on her face as you broke the news. she looked defeated, trying to laugh it off as a weird joke “what do you mean you can’t go?”

“don’t get upset” you said, sensing the tension growing “but a trip like that is expensive, and there’s things that i need to take care of, especially if you’re going to be gone…and i’m just in the middle of a really important part of my path in writing…i need to be able to focus on that right now. but we can do it, you know? we’d only be doing the long distance thing for a little bit!”

“are you serious?” she tried to keep her voice calm, instead raising it slightly “this is a huge deal for me and you don’t even want to be there with me?”

“that’s not true! i would do anything to go, but like i said, that’s an insanely expensive trip and i’m in the middle of trying to pursue this journalism thing so i-”

“you’re not going so you can write your silly papers?” she ridiculed “fine, it’s expensive, we can work around that, but you’re seriously telling me you’re not doing this so you can write?”

you were dumbfounded, her calling your passion just some ‘silly papers’ made you sick. you’ve been pushing yourself to every possible limit to work towards this, and you thought she was supportive of that, i guess this was bringing out her true colors.

“silly papers? caitlin, pursuing journalism is my dream, you know that” your nose scrunching in frustration “i’ve always been supportive of your dream, i’m constantly putting my own things aside so you can continue to do this”

“yea well that’s because i’m actually good at what i do” she snapped. her voice was laced with spite, gaze shooting daggers into yours. “i’ve got a real job, with real responsibilities, YN”

your body was frozen, feet glued to the ground, limbs unable to move. the way she was talking to you hurt, any support that you thought she had for you was gone out the window. you wanted to scream, storm out of the house and slam the door.

“that’s really what you think, hm?” you sneered “that i don’t have a real job? that i’m not good at the one thing i’m passionate about? jesus fucking christ caitlin.”

somewhere in your body, you found the courage to move. without letting her get another word in, you grabbed your laptop and stormed up the stairs into your shared bedroom. she could sleep on the couch tonight.

the second you made it up the stairs, you slammed the door and collapsed onto your bed. you were seething with rage. for her to stand in front of you, after you’ve put your heart and soul into helping caitlin succeed, was like a punch to the gut. she knew how hard you had been working to make this happen, how many classes and workshops, how many late nights and meetings with publishers. she knew about it all and she still had the audacity to say such a nasty thing.

you pulled the comforter up over your shoulders, hiding below it, and sobbed in your pillow. you didn’t even bother trying to finish your article tonight, your headache too painful from the tears. about an hour went by, you had assumed, the sun going down outside your bedroom window. not once did you hear anything from caitlin so you thought she had left to blow off steam or made herself comfortable on the couch.

then there was a knock at your bedroom door. she didn’t have to knock, in reality, it was her room too. you didn’t answer at the raps at the door, nor when she called out your name. you didn’t have anything to say.

“YN, can we talk?” her voice muffled from behind the wooden barrier “i shouldn’t have said those things, i didn’t mean it”

you stood up, opening the door for her and resuming your position on the bed, pulling up the covers once more. she followed suit and sat down at the foot of the bed next to you. still silent, you waited for her to continue.

“what i said was uncalled for” her voice cutting through deafening silence “none of it was true”

“so why’d you say it?” she could tell you had been crying right away, hearing the stuffiness in your nose. it made her stomach turn knowing she was the reason why.

“i was mad. the second i got the news, all i could think about was taking you with me. i had the whole thing planned out. but i didn’t even consider what it would mean for you, to drop everything and go to paris with me. and that was incredibly unfair of me to assume.”

you remained silent, listening to her confession.

“baby, i don’t think your papers are silly and i don’t think it’s not a real job” her hands found the way to your legs under the blanket, rubbing at them tenderly to try and comfort you “i’m so amazed by how talented you are. you’ve put in so much effort into making a name for yourself and i admire you for that, i know you’re going to do amazing things. what i said was cruel and purely out of spite and it won’t ever happen again, i’m so sorry”

you sniffled, wiping the rest of your tears as you sat up against the headboard. she had looked horrible when you looked at her. hair messy from running her hands through it, face pale and flushed, it didn’t take much to realize how bad she felt for lashing out at you.

“i know you’re mad, and i’m upset that i can’t go either,” you spoke up “but if you’re going to make a habit out of saying things like that to me, i don’t know if-”

“i swear to god i’m not! that was a shitty slip up, but please, i’m being honest when i say that i’ll never do that again. i have never once believed that what i said was true, im so so sorry” she pleaded, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“i forgive you, but it’s going to take a lot for you to make it up to me”

“anything, i’ll do anything” she said “i can’t live with myself knowing that i made you upset. whatever it takes to gain your trust back, i’ll fucking do it”

you let out a small chuckle, knowing the real cait was already shining through. the caitlin that would go to the ends of the earth for you. her hand was still gripping yours, drawing small shapes around your knuckles and kissing them reassuringly. you tugged her towards you making her fall into the sheets beside you. you reached out, caressing her long strands of hair, silently admiring her.

the two of you remained there in bed without saying anything. the sun lingered in its final hour in the sky as you both soaked in each other’s presence.

you couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

[petpenname]

❤️‍🔥Red Wine Supernova❤️‍🔥

pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverterd(f)reader c.w. smoking, drinking summary: modern college au, dealer!ellie x introverted!(f)reader, slow burn with some sad elements, inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want To Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're a Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: this ones long buckle up

Part Two

Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots

Music filled House 03 in each room as the girls got ready for that night's party. Olivia and Ivy share a room, blasting 2000’s pop throwbacks and club hits as they adorned themselves with low rise jeans and sparkles. Phoebe was playing 70s hits from the living room. Her and Daniel in matching bellbottoms, lounging on the couch pregaming already. Sage was in your room, as you struggled to form an outfit. Sitting pretty in her 90’s basement grunge attire, she questioned you about the night before.

Sage: “So she actually came over?! And you smoked with her! Look at you!”

“No, don't look at me! I don't know what to wear!” You say, holding up articles of clothing. “But yeah, she texted me while I was in the bath!”

“Oh, sensual,” Sage said with a wink. Seeing your distressed look she dropped the teasing and turned her attention to your wardrobe which was strewn across your room. 

“What about those white boots! You could go as a go-go dancer!” Sage pointed at a pair of knee high white platform boots. You had only worn them out once but they were practically perfect for a 60’s themed look. 

You picked them up, “okay yeah, but what do I wear them with?” “I dunno, a mini skirt?” Sage said laughing, she left the room to start pregaming and give you space to get ready.

You end up putting on a pink and orange plaid mini dress that fits your curves so perfectly. You opt to have your hair down and natural, pinning back one side behind your ear. A simple eye look to complete the look with a signature 60s line above your eye, in pink of course.  

You stand in front of your full-body mirror inspecting yourself. You are usually confident in your looks but tonight you feel an extra form of confidence. Something about the spontaneity of last night after a grueling finals week. 

“Hey y/n, you're almost ready?!” You hear Ivy shout from down the hall.

“Yeah! Coming!” You grab a cute white shoulder bag and put your go-go boots on. Grabbing your phone, extra lip gloss and taking one more look in the mirror before heading downstairs. 

Your roommates are pregaming in the kitchen when you come down too hoots and hollers about how great you look. You return the girls compliments taking in everyone's looks. Phoebe hands you a shot and a lime and you all take one for the road. The walk to House 09 takes less than 10 minutes. You and Sage take up the rear of the group adventure.

“So are you going to see Ellie tonight?” Sage nudges you in the side playfully 

“I don't know, probably, she said she would be here?” You are looking down to hide your obvious blushing. You had confided in Sage the most about your sexuality. Having come out as bisexual last year you've only had two girlfriends, which didn't end the best. You had a tendency to shut yourself away and you guess that didn't sit right with partners. But you also felt like they never respected your space. You decided to focus on yourself but sometimes, stoned, late at night Sage would get you to confess how lonely you were. You yearned for someone to love you, and for you to love them back.

“Wait, Sage, did you set this up or something like some blind date?” You remembered how Sage introduced Phoebe to Daniel and their relationship was solid. 

“No dude!” Sage chuckled. “I promise, Ellie asked for your number, practically begged for it! And plus she's been dropping off to the house for months now, don't you think I would have set you up sooner if i thought about it?”

Ellie begged for it? Intrusive thoughts of Ellie on her knees looking up at you with those emerald eyes flash through your mind, making your heart skip a beat. You sigh, pushing the perverted thought away. “okay yeah i guess not, I don't know she seems cool, i hardly know her though.” 

“Well get to know her!” Sage jumps ahead of you and turns down the path to H09, music already blaring into the street . You take a breath of air before following your roommates into the loud college party. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few hours are a blur of colored lights, dance music, and drinking. You don’t drink alot but you are also more familiar with the taste of liquor than smoke. So in the company of your roommates you take another shot and accept a mixed drink from Daniel, the designated bartender for the house. 

“Do you guys want to go dance?” Ivy shouts over the music

You all exchange nods, leaving Phoebe with her boyfriend at the makeshift bar and head to the living room to dance.

Whatever was in your cup tonight let you let loose a little more than usual. You worked up a sweat dancing to hits from the 50s to the 2000’s. Before you know it the room was getting a little too hot and you were a little too out of breath. You gestured to Sage to get her attention,

“I'm going to step out back for some air!” you say fanning yourself, still stepping to the beat

“Okay girl! Do you want company?” Sage responds over the music

“No no keep dancing! I'll find you guys!”

“Dont Irish Goodbye on us again y/n!” Ivy points and dances in your direction. “I'll come find you if you're not back in twenty minutes!” she blows you a kiss.

You laugh, “I won't leave! Promise!” Dancing your way out of the mass of moving bodies you head through the house and out into the back yard. The cool air instantly gives you a sense of relief as the commotion from inside gets muffled by the closing door. You choose to sit on the porch steps, staring up at the sky and you start to look for stars.

 Due to the light pollution you are only able to see a handful of stars at the moment. While you are looking you hear the back door open and close. Glancing over your shoulder you see none other than Ellie step outside, face flushed and hair slightly damp clinging to her neck. She wore a white tank top, blue flannel and blue jeans, the same dirty converse from last night. 

“Oh hey whats up cutie! You made it!” Ellie says when she catches your eye. She fumbles over to you and sits down next to you, letting out a sigh. “Oh my god it's hot in there, yeah?” “Hey, yeah it is” you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. She called you that name again. You both avert your gaze from each other, a beat of awkward silence before Ellie says, “you want to smoke with me?” and pulls out another immaculately rolled joint. 

“Only if you tell me what decade you're supposed to be dressed up as?” you joke, looking her over. Most of the guests had gone all out with their fits. 

Ellie chuckles “Whichever decade that supplies this party with weed.” 

“Sooo 90s?” You say as you watch her face light up as she sparks the joint. 

“Sure let's go with that” she exhales, turning her body towards you, with one leg bent on the deck and the other stretched out down the steps. She leans towards you slightly as she hands you the joint.

“And you are…. No don't tell me…. 70’s?” Ellie guesses as you take a drag from the joint.

You let the smoke out as you giggle, “no! 60’s! I'm wearing go-go boots”  You stick a leg up and gesture to your boots

Before you could think Ellie reaches out and touches your boot, sliding her long fingertips, from the ankle up to the top. “Oh wow, yeah now i see them” flicking her eyes from your leg to make eye contact with you. 

Your ears become hot at the sudden contact and you put your leg back down, take another puff before handing it back. There are those flutterings, they are much lower tonight.

“Wow and you're smoking more tonight! You're like a totally different person than who I met yesterday.” Ellie jokes as she takes the joint and leans back on her other hand. “Miss never goes to parties”, she teases.

Still feeling her gaze on you, you can't bring yourself to look at her so you look back at the night sky, leaning back on your hands. “Don’t get used to it, this is my one outing of the semester.” 

“Yeah me too, honestly.” Ellies tone turns a little serious as she too looks up at the night sky, taking another drag of the joint and using it to point.

“The Big Dipper should be right there, you can see the start of it, but there's too much light to see the rest.”

“Mhmm” you hum, “I wish i could see them all, I could in my hometown.” 

“Yeah me too” Ellie says, “Do you want another hit off this?” 

You look back down and the simple motion of your head moving in space brings your awareness to just how fucked up you are. You know alcohol takes a bit to have an effect but you have also never drank and smoked together. 

“No, thanks, ugh I'm feeling a bit light headed.” you say.

“Oh shit” Ellie puts out the joint and flicks it away, “Do you need some water?” 

“Yeah that would be cool, I just need to catch my breath” You say as cooly as possible.

“Okay stay right here!” Ellie gets up and is gone in a flash,

Your head is spinning and you grab onto the railing for some stability, willing yourself not to throw up in this back yard. Deep breaths in and out help you regain a bit of your strength and feeling. You hear the backdoor open and shut as a few pairs of feet hit the deck. 

“Hey, hey girl you okay?” Sage is next to you with a glass of water, you take and sip it slowly.

“Hey dude yeah, i'm good, I don't know if i'll go back inside though.” 

“Yeah that's understandable, did you smoke too?”

You nod, and take another sip of water. Sage gives you a sympathetic look through her own blood shot eyes.

“I'll walk her home” you hear Ellie say, who you realize had been standing behind you the whole time.  

Sage looks up, “oh yeah, I mean if you don't mind? You cool with that y/n?  

You finish the water and hand your cup back to Sage, “Yeah, you stay Sage, tell Ivy I'm sorry for leaving again”

“Sure babes, and hey it's not an irish goodbye if you say goodbye!” She helps you up and says bye to Ellie and you before going inside. 

“Are you sure you're feeling okay?” Ellie turns to you, a look of worry on her face.

“Yeah I'm feeling better now, I just have never smoked and drank together before.” 

Ellie laughs, “damn what are you a virgin too?” 

Such a direct joke caught you off guard, “uh no, i'm not.” you say defensively, turning away feeling your cheeks flush.

“I'm kidding, I promise! Sorry, come on let's get you home hun”

You curse yourself for being so quick to defend yourself, you were actually quite experienced, at least with your own body. You just didn't know exactly how to express that to your partners. 

Ellie led you out the back garden gate holding it open for you, you felt her hand cup the small of your back as she guided you to the sidewalk. You let her hand rest on your waist as her warmth warms you up in the cool night air. 

“Are you going to go back to the party?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Nah probably not, i dont really hang out with a lot of people. I just go to sell.” Ellie responds matter of factly. 

“What about your roommate?”

“Oh Dina? She’s with Jessie, I love hanging out with them but I have the dorm all to myself tonight!” She gives you that stupid sideways grin again

You smile back at her before looking forward, feeling a bit nervous realizing how close you two were walking. Her hand still on the small of your back, and her index finger tracing small circles, like she was nervous too. 

You walk the rest of the block in silence and she walks up to your front door, stepping away from you before saying, “You sure you're okay to be left alone? I feel like I need to see you drink another glass of water.” 

Maybe it was the joint, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the feeling deep inside of you wishing for someone to be close to you again. You missed her warmth. Either way you find yourself answering before thinking

“You could just come in? I'll drink a glass of water to prove I'm good!” You hold a hand to your chest like making a royal promise. 

Ellie chuckles, scratching the back of her neck and looking down, “Oh shit, yeah sure, I’ll come in” Did you just make her nervous?

“Cool” You say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You enter the house, flipping on a few lights and tossing your bag on the table. 

“I have to get out of my shoes first!” you exclaim, taking a seat, suddenly out of breath again.

“Here allow me!” Ellie says, skipping to your side and kneeling down, before you could protest she has your right leg in her hands, inspecting for a zipper. “It's on the inside” you laugh at her willingness for chivalry, pointing at the zipper on the inside of your ankle.

“Inside huh?” Ellie said in a tone that made your stomach flip. She finds the zipper, pulls down and slides the boot off your leg. Revealing fuzzy pink socks adorned with a Kirby embroidered at the top. Holy shit you forgot you had those socks on?!

“Oh my god Kirby!” Ellie laughs, “I didn't know what socks to expect but i dont think these were it.”

“What's wrong with kirby?” You counter teasingly, the alcohol giving you some courage post sock reveal.

“Nothing! I just feel like i'm finding out little crumbs of information about you”, Ellie laughs again, “You're like a puzzle, or a riddle? I just want to get to know you.” she looks you in the eyes when she says that. 

That last sentence felt so personal. You sat back in silence as Ellie removed your other shoe, revealing a second, pink kirby sock. She looks up at you and you realize she's on her knees, in front of you. Did you dream this into reality? How did such a pretty girl just fall into your life like this? You almost lose yourself in her eyes before she speaks again.

“You still gotta drink water for me, pretty girl.” 

You nod, as she rises from the floor and looks around for the kitchen. Rising too and guiding her in the dim lit kitchen you grab a glass of water and return to stand in front of her to drink it. Finishing strong with a sigh and a smile, you set the glass down on the counter and turn to her.

“All done” you say

“Good girl” Ellie says with a smirk, staring into your eyes. Your stomach does a flip again, she is way too comfortable calling you pet names. 

Like magnets the two of you slide closer until you are inches away from each other in the dim kitchen light. Both of your breaths hitch as you watch Ellie's eyes dart from your eyes, to your lips, and back up. You swear you could stare at her like this for hours, but you wanted nothing more than to closet the space between you two.

*DING DING*

The ring of Ellies phone sounds off in her pockets, startling both of you away from the tension boiling between you. 

“Ah fuck what now” Ellie says under her breath. She quickly checks her phone and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuckers need more weed at the party. I should probably let you get your beauty sleep huh?” She says, shoving her phone back in her pocket.

You involuntarily let out a yawn as she makes the suggestion and you hide your face from her gaze. Partially from the yawn, mostly to hide your disappointment “yeah, I should probably sleep this buzz off, I'll walk you out?” 

“Sure thing” she says.

You both head for the door, Ellie lingers a bit, swaying side to side before saying bye and dipping fast down the steps. You say bye and close the door behind her. Stealing yourself upstairs to take off your makeup and outfit. A quick self care routine later and you are passed out in bed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie lights a joint in frustration as she walks out of H09. She really didn't want to go back there but ended up staying another hour because Jessie and Dina guilted her into drinking more. Thoughts of you swirl in the girl's head as she makes the walk to her dorm. Your eyes, your legs, your lips, your kirby socks. Ellie laughs to herself, and pulls out her phone. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up the next morning with a headache. Checking the time on your phone you're shocked to see you slept in until 11!

You have a few unread messages:

Ellie: want to meet for coffee? Ivy: I made pancakes! Sage: how can you have so much energy all the time? Be right ther Olivia: shhh sleeping

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Meet for coffee??” Sage said, mouth full of pancake. You and your roommates are sitting around the kitchen eating room-temperature pancakes and discussing the night before. 

“That's what she said?!” you say, pouring some syrup over your breakfast.

“Well are you gonna go?” Ivy asks from the pantry

“I mean, yeah? I should, right?” “Only if you want to girl” Olivia say beside you

“Oh she wants to” Sage says with wink in your direction

“I do!” You say blushing, “I'm just nervous! The last times we interacted were so spontaneous. And this is like, she's asking me out!” 

“It's just coffee babes you'll be okay! Its casual” Olivia says with a reassuring rub on your back

You smile at your roomates as you pick your phone up, responding to Ellie

y/n: “Okay :) when?”

30 seconds later you receive a text;

Ellie: “Sweet :), 1pm at the cafe?”

y/n: “I'll see you there!” 

You smile at your phone for sec before your roomates all join in on a group “oooooooooo” 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1pm comes fast. After breakfast you help clean then retire to your room to shower and get ready. It's a little chilly out this morning so you opt for a chunky sweater, comfortable wide leg pants, and sneakers. After checking yourself in your mirror and in Sage’s mirror, with her approval and luck, you head out the door. 

The walk to the cafe felt like it took forever. You become hyper aware of yourself, your outfit, anxieties bubbling up in your mind as you try to stay calm. You round a corner and can see the cafe now, and something in you stops you in your tracks. 

Memories of your past relationships flash in your mind. How hurt you were, how misunderstood you felt. Being lonely was familiar but it always stung when someone left your life. You will yourself to take a chance, your roommate’s comment in your mind for comfort. You’re just meeting for coffee, it's casual. With a deep breath, trying to gain some confidence you continue forward. You open the door to the cafe stepping in, warm cinnamon and coffee bean scents fill the air while a lofi beats track plays over the speakers. You look around and it takes you just a moment to find Ellie sitting at a table in the corner. She has a baseball cap on, looking down so she didn't see you come in. 

You take in her appearance while walking over. She's manspreading comfortably in dark green cargos, a gray t-shirt, a black zip up hoodie and black converse. You knock lightly on the table to get her attention, startling Ellie who shoots up, almost knocking her chair over behind her. 

“Hi there” you say sweetly

“Oh y/n! Morning! Er afternoon, hey” She composes her surprise and smiles at you to sit down. “I got you a coffee!” 

You realize there are two coffee cups in front of you on the table. Ellie slides one over and you see your order written on the side in black ink. Medium mocha, with half chocolate. She remembered? 

“Oh wow thank you! Do I owe you anything?” you ask, accepting the drink.

“Of course not,” Ellie says leaning back, “I just made it before I finished my shift.” 

You take a sip of your coffee, and set it down, taking in the girl sitting before you. You realize that Ellie looks exceptionally tired, she has bags under her eyes and her lips are slightly crusty. She seemed to have energy, although that must be from the caffeine she's been having throughout her shift. 

“Did you have a good night?” Ellie asks, breaking your fantasy

“Oh! Yeah, i just passed out after you left and slept so long” You laugh, trying to hold eye contact. 

“Good you got your sleep, I wish I did, i forgot I worked this morning and got woken up by my boss calling me” Ellie sighs and sips her coffee

“Oh shit, we don't have to hang out if you're tired?” You say, secretly wanting to invite her back to yours to cuddle up and watch movies. But your body does not allow the thought to come out.

“No! I want to hang out! I actually wanted to show you something, if you're down?” Ellie asks

So many thoughts fill your mind with what this thing could be. Your curiosity is endless and quickly leads to images of Ellie pulling toys out of her backpack. 

“Yeah sure, I'm not doing anything today” You say, leaning forward on your hand with your elbow on the table. Searching Ellies expression for any sign of what her intentions were. 

Ellie just gives you a big grin and leans forward too, flashing her eyes from yours, to your lips, and back up. Instantly you're reminded of last night, you hadn't even thought about your almost kiss in the shadows of your kitchen. You feel your ears going hot and instinctually pull back to drink your coffee, hoping your eyes didn't display any of your shock from the memory. 

“Sounds good, if you're ready we can head out” Ellie suggests, keeping her eyes on you.

You nod and swallow, “sure, ya” you say, your voice a little quieter. 

Ellie rises from her seat, grabbing her coffee, waits for you to rise and follows you out of the cafe. “Here follow me!” she says when you two are outside, pointing behind her. You skip up to her side and follow her through campus. Making small talk, asking each other about your coffees & the weather. You realize that Ellie is leading you into the College neighborhood, the street that you live on. 

“You want to show me the street I live on?” You ask, laughing because as far as you know, this street is a Dead End. And you have been to that dead end. Maybe she was bringing you to a house? 

“I mean yes? And no, we are going to the end, there's a spot over there.” Ellie says, taking another sip of her coffee

You were pretty sure the dead end was fenced off with a thick forest behind it. Not being very adventurous you had never thought to explore past it. You and Ellie walk the length of the block, passing other college students. You approach the end of the street, the sidewalk seemingly ends and you wait to see what Ellie will do. 

She turns around to face you, “Do you trust me?” 

“I have no reason not to you” you giggle, “you're not going to murder me are you?”

“No! Oh my god, come on, this way” Ellie smirks and nods her head to the side of the street. 

House 10 was the last house on the street, and there was a thick hedge that ran the length of the house and the fence. Ellie walks you over and the perspective change reveals about two feet between the hedge and the fence. Ellie slips into the gap and takes a few steps before making sure you are following. You're right behind her, and comment “there are no spiders right?”

Ellie laughs, “dont worry ill scare them off. It's not too far.”

You walk maybe 10 feet between the hedge and fence before Ellie stops and crouches down. Ducking through a large hole in the chainlink fence and popping up on the other side to face you. “Here hand me your coffee!” she says, sticking a hand through the hole. 

You hand her your coffee and crouch down to do the same, almost slipping on a few leaves on the ground. 

“You good? Here you go” Ellie hands your coffee back and says “i promise its not far now, just through there.'' She walks into the forest. There's a makeshift trail probably formed by other students exploring back here, and you follow her for a few minutes. Listening to the sounds of birds and wind through the trees, you start to hear the sound of running water. The trail winds around, sunlight flashing through the leaves onto Ellies auburn hair. You can't help but get lost in her figure. Your mind trailing off to things too embarrassing to say, you have no idea how long you've been walking. Ellie turns around flashing you a smile, breaking you away from your bedroom thoughts.

“Its just up here! Come on!” She picks up a bit of pace, excitement getting the best of her. 

You follow her around another corner and see a pretty amazing sight. Large concrete structures from half of a building, overgrown with vines and graffiti painting the crumbling walls. There are steps leading up to a large concrete platform with two walls in the back. You take a sec to take it all in, Ellie bounds up the steps, turns to you and puts her arms out framing the scene.

“Ta-daaaaa! What do you think?”

“This place is so cool!” You say, following her up the steps and looking more closely at the graffiti. You read “smoke em if you got em”, & “JC’11” probably from a Jackson College graduate. One catches your eye, it's smaller and closer to the ground. A black heart with red lettering that says “girls kissing girls”. 

“Ya, right.” Ellie looks around with you at “her” spot -atleast she likes to think she's claimed it. “I found it a few months ago, I come here pretty often but don't really bring anyone. I don't want everyone to know about it.”

“Yea i can understand, its peaceful out here” you respond, focusing your attention back on her

“And you haven't seen the best part!” Ellie walks across the platform to the other side, where the other wall is missing. You follow her and realize that the water you heard had gotten a bit louder since you tuned into it. As you approach the opening in the wall you are perplexed with the beauty you see. A small waterfall cascades over moss covered rocks, flowing into a stream only a few feet wide and away into the forest. All the stars aligned for the sun to shine the most on this spot in the forest. The foliage was lush, moss covered all surfaces, and tiny flowers and mushrooms dotted the scene. 

“Yeah, it's pretty great, my own secret hiding spot.” Ellie beams, stretching her arms behind her head, trying to be as casual as possible. 

You looked in awe at the scene and Ellie looks in awe at you. Taking in your features, your soft lips, your beautiful skin. She wished she could capture this image of you forever in her mind. Never had she taken someone here before, but as soon as she met you, she wanted you here, with her. And there wasn't anything she wanted to do more than to kiss you.

“This is so beautiful” you say, “want to sit down?” You say turning to her, blushing at the strong eye contact youre met with.

Instinctually Ellie takes off her hoodie, stepping back and setting it down on the ground for you and her to sit on. You are able to see a large tattoo on her forearm, looks like a fern? You both position yourselves on the makeshift blanket, with your legs hanging over the side of the ledge. 

“Do you want to smoke? I haven't since before my shift.” Ellie says after a moment of silence. 

“Oh yeah, sure! But if you keep smoking me out and buying me coffee i'm going to have to make it up to you!” You say with a smirk, playfully nudging her with your elbow.

“I'll take whatever you give me,” Ellie says as she takes out a joint box from her pocket. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the possibilities of what your ‘repayment’ could be. 

You take the lit joint from Ellie and you two make small talk about the graffiti and nature surrounding you. Conversations turn more personal when you ask Ellie about her family. You learn of Joel, and the farm back home where Ellie spent most of her time shying away with her journal and guitar. Ellie spoke about coming out to Joel in highschool and how he was one of the only people who supported her through it. Her hometown wasn't the most accepting so she did not have many friends let alone relationships. You share your life too, realizing that you and Ellie have more things in common than you thought. Your family came around after a year or so of coming out but you only ‘came out’ to friends and the public when you moved to college. You had a boyfriend in highschool that ended badly and 1.5 relationships with girls since coming out. You say 1.5 because the first one was really a situationship that ended with the girl deciding she was straight. 

At this point the joint was dead and tossed in the brush. The sun was drifting behind the trees, casting a cool hue across the forest. 

Ellie and you listen to the stream in comfortable silence for a second. The joint is settling in nicely and bringing all your hidden thoughts to the surface. You wanted to kiss her, touch her. Your fingers are a mere centimeters from each other and you could feel the electricity through your whole body. 

Suddenly Ellie takes a breath, like she had been holding hers for a second. “CanIaskyousomething?” she says, in almost all one word. 

You turn your body to her, leaning forward slightly on your arm. “Anything” you say.

“I know… i know we just met, but, you’re really pretty and I was just wondering… canikissyou?

She rushes the last part but you hear clearly and your heart skips a beat. Ellie turns to look at you, searching your face for anything you're feeling. 

You're lost in her eyes again, your mind screaming yes but all you can do is nod at her, doe eyed and longing to feel her warmth.

Ellie breathes in looking at your lips before she leans forward, cradling your face in her hands and setting her lips on yours. The kiss is hot, passionate, slow but needy as your combined lust mixes together right there in the forest.  You feel like hours have gone by before you separate, looking into eachothers eyes, a line of spit connecting both your lips. Ellie looks like she's even higher than the joint made her and you can't help but giggle a little before going in for a second kiss. This time your hands go for her, brushing through her hair and grabbing at the nape of her neck. 

Separating for the second time ellie breathes, “wow, that was… wow”

You hum in approval, untangling your hand from her hair and resting it on your leg. You're both breathing a little heavy, lips tingling and palms sweaty. 

Ellie feels a buzz on her thigh and pulls out her phone to a string of texts, all from buyers hoping to make their Saturdays better.

“Ah fuck, im sorry, i wish we could stay here longer but, work calls…” She says with a sigh. She wishes she could stay here all day with you but Ellie was a business woman, plus she had been saving up for a few things and was so close to meeting her goal. 

You laugh, wanting to stay with her too, but you are getting hungry, probably from the joint. “That's okay, will you walk me back to the house?”

“Of course doll” Ellie says with a smile, making your already hot face burn with desire. You both stand and after grabbing her hoodie and coffee, without asking Ellie grabs your hand and begins to lead you back out of the forest. 

You walk hand in hand down the street in comfortable silence. The touch shared between you said more than you two could manage at the moment. You are submerged in your feelings and barely notice you getting to the walkway in front of your house. 

Ellie stops and turns to face you. Giving you a kiss on the back of the hand she says, “have a great day beautiful, i'll be thinking of you.”

You linger your hand in hers for a moment, blushing, mind blank but you know you need to respond. “Thanks for today Ellie, i'll talk to you soon.”

You start backing up the walkway, both of you not wanting to separate from each other's gaze. You both give one last little wave and you turn to walk into the house. 

Sage greets you from the couch, seeing the look on your face she jumps up and runs to hug you in excitement. Bringing you over to sit with her as you tell her about your time with Ellie. You feel this could be the beginning of something beautiful. Although hesitant to get close to someone again, you feel right with Ellie. You can’t help but imagine what life would be like with her. 

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a/n: AHHHHHHHHH thank u sm for the love :3 I'm actually so excited for part 3... might even open submissions for other fandoms? idk I'm just having fun! Tag List: @vqxen @bready101 @sourgummywormsss @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[ms-demeanor]

Hi there! Firstly, wanna say a huge thank you: your blog has inspired me to become more educated about cybersecurity and nutrition, and it’s the reason my brother and I now use Firefox! I came across this article and… it seemed to raise a lot of valid points about Mozilla, but I have no idea if they are true or not since I’m not that knowledgeable about tech, and they go against everything I’ve ever heard about Firefox. Wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving it a quick read, if that’s not too much trouble, and explaining why it’s false/true? If you can, ofc, I realise that is a weird request, and I promise it&: not something I’d usually ask someone. I just thought I’d ask since you’re the only sort of ‘tech’ person I can think of whom I’d trust to know stuff about this. https://digdeeper.neocities.org/articles/mozilla

So this is a great example of someone reading a ToS uncharitably and extracting the most paranoid bullshit possible.

Aside from the absolute classic "oh noes they are storing info about what devices you use" (if you use firefox logged in mozilla will collect information about what device and OS you use to connect; they do this for a lot of reasons like figuring out what stuff the bulk of their users are using but also because *they can't display on your device without that data*) I want to zoom in on this as an example:

BTW, there is one really funny thing inside the account ToS (MozArchive) that I just have to mention: "We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including [...] our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable." The fuck? If you stop bringing them profit, you're gone. They really said that! To me, this is a roundabout admission that your data is being sold. And if it's not worth much (for whatever reason), then you get kicked out.

This person is highlighting the idea that they may cut you off from services if the provision of those services is no longer commercially viable. This author is saying "FIREFOX WILL BOOT YOU WHEN YOU STOP BEING A PROFITABLE LITTLE PAYPIG FOR THEM"

But. Okay. Let's go look at that section of the ToS:

These Terms will continue to apply until ended by either you or Mozilla. You can choose to end them at any time for any reason by deleting your Mozilla account, discontinuing your use of the Services, and if applicable, unsubscribing from our emails. We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including, but not limited to, if we reasonably believe: (i) you have violated these Terms, (ii) you create risk or possible legal exposure for us; or (iii) our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable. We will make reasonable efforts to notify you by the email address associated with your Mozilla account or the next time you attempt to access the Services. In all such cases, these Terms shall terminate, including, without limitation, your license to use the Services, except that the following sections shall continue to apply: Indemnification, Disclaimer; Limitation of Liability, Miscellaneous.

Bud. This says "we are not obligated to provide services to you and we may stop providing services that cost us more money to maintain than is viable." This isn't about selling your data, this is about backwards compatibility and sunsetting projects. They don't have to keep providing access to services they're no longer developing nor bend over backwards to make sure that you can keep running a version of the browser that uses the extensions they dropped support for ten years ago.

Ugh. I got to the section where they talk about cucking for manifest3 and jesus this asshole. Manifest 3 is a defacto set of web standards that are changing because google has so much market share as a browser that if they do something everybody else has to follow or they're going to break basic functionality; if they don't make these changes eventually a shitload of websites just will not work on firefox. WAY more than currently experience this problem. Nobody is happy about manifest 3 and the fact that mozilla put out a press release about coming manifest 3 changes (that was not positive!) doesn't mean they're happy about getting dragged along by the nose; this blogger would prefer something like them refusing to adopt those standards, but all that would happen is that they'd lose more users because less shit would work on firefox browsers since people write their sites for chrome first and anything else second if at all.

This writer also gripes a lot about things like "mozilla took away this functionality for the sake of security and SURE you can change that by going into the configurations but it should be an option right in the first panel of the settings what are they really trying to hide???" and they're not trying to hide anything bud they're trying to make a functional browser with intuitive menus for people who aren't power users.

Like they want to be able to do everything they want and they want to be able to see the option in front of them at all times. It's a weird combination of "I know how to configure everything about this browser" and "if a setting is ever hidden behind a readmore it's a dark pattern and is an attack on user privacy." Like they gripe a lot about privacy and then link to a bunch of pages on mozilla where they explain their privacy settings and link to tutorials on how to hide the data that they just explained they collect.

Yeah this is someone I would walk away from in order to avoid getting into a fistfight.

"FOSS licenses are nice but they don't ensure quality" nobody said they did.

"FOSS licensed softwares don't always accept user participation in development" nobody said they did

"I can't change the actual code of firefox to remove things that I don't like don't tell me to fork it it has to be all or nothing mozilla specifically has to do what I want or it's user hostile" I can see why it would be hostile to you as a user fuck you dude this is why forks *exist* (also the "spyware" discussed is basic browser tracking stuff, the realistic necessities of how email work that make it not private by default like the PROTOCOLS are not private you can't get around that, and a lot of the stuff is opt out but improves functionality for day to day users, AND a lot of the tracking is specifically for people with logged-in accounts which are not necessary to use firefox like if you hate pocket don't use it my friend! I also hate pocket it is quite simple to never use it thanks)

"There's no justification for making the source code unavailable" my dude. https://hg.mozilla.org/mozilla-central/

"If they really cared about an open internet they'd work toward killing capitalism." Friend. I think there's very little more that a web browser could do to undermine the capitalist nature of huge chunks of the web and maintain a broad userbase than what firefox is doing.

I'm reminded of the time that I saw someone losing their shit about a linux distro that included chrome as *a* browser - not the default browser, but *a* browser.

It is an unpleasant fact that a lot of firefox's funding comes from google. That's part of why google is still the default search engine in Firefox and I read some similar articles decrying mozilla's residence firmly in Google's pocket a few years ago. I don't think there's anyone at mozilla who is genuinely pleased that their cheques are signed by google, but there are a ton of people at mozilla who are happy they can keep the lights on because getting paid by google means that they can do as much as they possibly can to create a functional browser that has a significant interest in privacy by default and that can be made *VERY* private by a dedicated user.

Anyway a lot of the stuff on this post is things like "a certificate expired five years ago and broke extensions and that means that mozilla is incompetent and hates users" or "eleven years ago there was a slapfight in the bug reporting forums between a user and a mod and the fact that the user was kicked after repeatedly being told his fix wasn't going to get made is censorship."

The big beefs at the center of this post are:

Mozilla collects data on users

Mozilla limits functionality that should be up to the users

Mozilla takes money from google

and my refutations are:

it does, and it is less than any other mainstream browser and is much much more transparent about what data is collected and how to prevent that data from being collected

A lot of the functionality they're discussing is still there and the stuff that isn't is allowing unsigned extensions which, dude, put a fork in it. They're not going to budge on unsigned extensions but the bar you have to clear to get signed is really really low; like this guy is LITERALLY saying "allow the installation of malicious extensions."

Yep. They do. This point reminds me of a lot of the people on tumblr who hate ads but also hate it when people pay for tumblr. As it turns out making things costs money, and making things used by millions of people costs *A LOT* of money.

I mean FFS one of the things this writer complains about is that Mozilla has a YouTube page.

This isn't just letting perfect be the enemy of good, it's letting perfect be the enemy of *functionally existing as a large organization in the modern world.*

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoy my blog, thank you for letting me know!

[my-castles-crumbling]

Joking- A Rosekiller microfic

Rosekiller - rated T for suggestive jokes - thanks @starchasersunseeker and @beautyoftheships for the inspiration and @starchasersunseeker for letting me use a pickup line!

It started as a joke. Barty had found an article in Witch Weekly about the “Worst Pickup Lines in History” and was reading them aloud to Pandora, who was curled up like a cat on the end of Regulus’s bed, giggling hysterically.

Regulus was only half paying attention. Until Evan walked in.

“Oi! Ev!” Barty called to him, looking up and grinning. “Are you my wand?”

“Erm. No?” Evan replied, looking thoroughly confused. “Why?”

Barty chuckled and smiled smugly. “Because I want to hold you all the time.”

Pandora, predictably, burst into giggles in the background, but Regulus looked up curiously to see Evan’s reaction. He was shocked to see the taller boy smirk and say, “Hold me where?”

Barty’s mouth popped open audibly, obviously shocked that Evan was flirting back.

And so it began.

-

It quickly became obvious that Barty had taken Evan’s reaction as a personal challenge. A dare to push Evan until he finally broke and admitted he was uncomfortable, or at least just joking. But Evan never wavered.

“Ev! Evan!” Barty yelled across the Common Room one day.

“Yeah?” Evan grinned, looking up from his game of chess with Dorcas.

“I’m not a Seeker. But I’d gladly catch you if you fell for me,” Barty called, eyes sparkling.

Evan surveyed him, face blank, before breaking into an evil grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re not a Beater, either. But I’d let you beat me off.”

Regulus couldn’t help but laughing at how flustered Barty looked as he left the room.

-

The jokes got more and more lewd, as if Barty was desperate to find the line that Evan wouldn’t cross. But somehow, Evan just threw even more hilarious quips back, all while straight-faced, making the normally-confident and unaffected Barty blush and stutter.

To Regulus, it seemed like some strange game of ‘Chicken.’ But neither of them was calling for mercy. And really, that suited him, because it was entertaining to watch.

-

The whole thing came to a head one night at a party, where alcohol had been flowing for a few hours before Barty decided it was again time to try to make Evan blush.

“Evs!” Barty called, smile a bit crooked and eyes glassy.

“What, Barty?” Evan asked, rolling his eyes, clearly knowing what was coming.

“‘re you a Dementor? Because you look like you want to kiss me!” Barty slurred, tripping a bit as he spoke.

But Evan’s response made all who were nearby go still.

“Maybe,” he murmured slowly, “I do want to kiss you. What’re you going to do about it?” He retorted with a shrug and a smirk, folding his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

“I-what?” Barty asked, eyes wide, and looking a bit more focused, now.

“Gonna kiss me, Barty? Or was this all just talk?” Evan asked tauntingly with a soft smile.

His smile grew triumphant when Barty began to stutter, unable to string two words together. Regulus chuckled to himself, entertained by the idiocy of his two best friends. He wondered briefly if they would ever do anything about their game.

-

Of course, his question was answered just a few short hours later. Barty came barging into their shared dorm room, eyes wild, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, coming to a stop in front of Evan. “What was that last night?” He demanded, ignoring Regulus completely.

“A party. Ever been?” Evan asked lightly, looking up from his Transfiguration book.

“I-” Barty seemed to shake himself and tried again. “No, I mean, what you said. About wanting to kiss me.”

Evan chuckled. “What, you can say things to me, but I can’t to you?”

Barty looked truly tortured, now. “But were you…you were joking, yeah? Like I always do with you?”

Regulus looked on as Evan seemed to consider his answer. “If I wasn’t?” he asked, jutting his chin up defiantly.

Barty made a strangled noise and lunged for the other boy, connecting their lips together in a way that suggested Regulus ought to get out now. But as he left, a shirt flying above his head, he swore he could hear Barty ask desperately, “So, you’re not joking, right?”

[catmomjudy]

I’ve often wondered if Buck is the actual introvert and Eddie is the extravert in their friendship.

I was trying to find something else over the weekend, and came across some articles on PTSD/trauma and damaged extraverts (who then appear to be introverts because they become afraid of trusting people). Eddie certainly presents as an extravert:

He seems to have a wide acquaintance/friends group (other firefighters, like Julie and now Tommy; the poker group; the basketball group; the dispatch ladies).

His first day at the 118 was classic extravert behavior—he fits in quickly and chats easily with everyone.

When Buck is standoffish on Day 1, Eddie pursues HIM. He wants to get along with everyone and wants to be friendly with all of his coworkers.

He chats easily with others about THEIR deep subjects (his conversation with May in season 5 comes to mind).

Extraverts tend to have a lot of people they know and are friendly with. They’ll still have deeper relationships, of course, but they’ll consider any number of people to be “friends,” and they are approachable and easy to talk to.

That doesn’t mean that they share their own inner thoughts, though—it’s often surface-level. It actually makes selecting and nurturing people/relationships where they can develop enough trust to share that innermost-feeling-stuff more difficult. And it’s that trust issue that made me wonder if Eddie was an extravert who had trouble diving past the surface relationships because of past trauma. He does trust people, but it’s a select few (Buck; Bobby). Otherwise, people only see the surface. An example would be his coworkers not knowing that he had a son and, later, a wife, until it became necessary (worried during the earthquake and asked a direct question) or beyond his control (Shannon showing up at the firehouse).

Buck appears to be an extravert, but I was actually thinking about Myers-Briggs types for the 118 at one point (while driving in my car, of course!!) and realized that Buck isn’t an extravert at all.

Think about HIS first day at the 118–he was shy and hesitant.

Buck being a “player” in season 1 was more about making connections—reveling in being Seen. Plus he’s incredibly awkward when HE tries to approach new people—I’ve always assumed that the women he slept with approached him because Buck-in-pursuit is just embarrassingly awkward. See his first conversation with Taylor for the cringe of it all.

The women he’s dated have, in most cases pursued him—or at least put the first step forward. Abby called him repeatedly. Ali must have given him her number, or he wouldn’t have been able to call her up. He met Taylor and Natalia on calls, and they were both inviting and forward. The one time HE tried to pursue dating, we got Veronica.

He doesn’t appear to have any close friends (or even people he hangs out with or activities he goes to) outside of the 118 circle.

Buck is outgoing within his friend/family group, but that’s common introverted behavior—they build that group and keep it close (they’ll fight for this—lawsuit, anyone?), and are comfortable being chatty to people in that select group. Outside of that group, and the awkward conversation and stuttering starts. They don’t necessarily have poor social awareness (particularly when observing OTHER people—I.e. people-watching), but they overthink and internalize it, making them self-conscious.

P.S. A true extravert would have gone to hang out at basketball with Eddie even if he sat and cheered (and razzed) on the sidelines and then got to go out for beers afterward with the group.

(My Myers-Briggs/Keirsey geekiness is showing again.)

(Expanded from comments on a reblog, so yes, you may have seen this before.)

[tom-whore-dleston]

for the event how about snooze with steven grant <3333 they just fit so perfectly together !!

Snooze

Pairing: Steven Grant x f. reader

Word Count: 1.5k

This fic contains: fluff, neighbors to lovers, insomnia, meet cute scenario, confessions, kissing, corny play on lyrics of Snooze

Summary: You are the main constant that helps combat Steven’s insomnia. This night, things are a little bit different.

Notes: omg Sil you are so right about how Snooze is Steven-coded!! Thank you bb for the request and I hope you enjoy 🥰🫶🏽 Thank you to @potatothots for beta reading and sharing your insight 🩷

Spotify Wrapped 2023 challenge | send a request here

Steven glared at the blue squares of his Rubik's Cube. It had been the third time he solved the three dimensional puzzle since the moon illuminated the night sky. The toy tumbled into his lap as Steven’s groggy eyes flickered towards the shimmering sphere that tauntingly gazed back at him. 

The classical record that was meant to aid his sleep came to an end. Steven lost track of how many times he played that record. When his insomnia began many moons ago, the record did wonders for his sleep. Now, it basically is a broken record because of how often he played it at night.

Yet, there was one constant that always helped him fall asleep. And that was you.

You were new to the apartment complex and moved in right next to Steven. The way you both met was one for the books. Your flat mate was running late for work due to lack of sleep from the night before. He rushed out the door, struggling into his coat. Without realizing, his shoelaces dragged carelessly across the floor. Steven, as clumsy as he was, crashed into you carrying a box of clothes, and you both fell to the floor.

The British man’s eyes widened. “Oh my- I am terribly sorry! Are you alright?” His eyes widened even more after one glance upon your beauty.

You sat up chuckling, unaware of his gawking. “No need for apologies. I am perfectly fine.” Then, you noticed the items scattered on the floor.  “Although, I’m not too sure about the pile of clothes.” The man mirrored your movements as you crawled towards an article of clothing.

“Allow me to help you ma’am,” Steven began tossing shirts and sweaters into the box. As you reached for your favorite scarf, a strong hand slightly brushed against yours. You stared into each other's eyes, smiling softly. You could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Oh heavens, I am late for work!” He checked the time on his watch and began to panic. “I missed my bus, too!”

“Perhaps I can take you to work?” You helped him to his feet, and your cheeks grew hot as he began to tower over you.

“Oh no, I-“

“It’s okay. I want to.” You paused. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” 

Steven unclenched his jaw and let out a quick laugh. “Thank you ma’am! I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

“It’s my pleasure…” your voice dropped upon realizing you didn’t know the name of the British man before you.

“Steven. Steven Grant.”

It was a typical late Saturday night when you arrived at your apartment complex. Your watch peeked through your cuffed long sleeve, catching a glimpse of the time. 

3:00. That was a record time for the latest you came home from a shift at the local bar. Your body, especially your legs, yearned to crash into the coziness of your bed and sleep until the sun was at its peak in the sky. As you approached the door to your apartment, you stopped in your tracks after meeting your neighbor’s hazy eyes.

“Steven?”

The gentleman in question half smiled. “Hello, darling.” 

“Rough night?” You interrogated knowingly. Steven nodded with closed eyes.

You fumbled your key into the lock for a moment before opening the door and stepping to the side. “C’mon in. I’ll make us some tea.”

Steven walked into your apartment and headed towards your couch, as he had done many nights before. He wrapped himself in the blanket you knitted yourself as you fixed a pot of tea. The blanket smelled like you, which always brought him a sense of comfort. A kind of comfort he couldn’t find in his own home. In fact, Steven couldn’t remember the last time he felt any sense of security before meeting you.

“You really fancy that blanket, huh?” You giggled, admiring how adorable he looked being swaddled in your own creation. The day you moved in, you decided to knit a blanket to combat your boredom. Once it was finished, you didn’t dare touch it as you were too afraid it would get ruined. The first night you welcomed Steven into your apartment, he was immediately fascinated with the blanket that he cozied onto your couch bundled in the blanket before falling into the best sleep he had in a while.

“I do, indeed. It helped me sleep when I had no other way of falling asleep.” Steven peered down at the wooly fabric, tracing over the patterns as if his next words were hidden between the stitches.

“Well, I’m happy to have helped you in a subliminal way.” The rest of your surroundings blurred as Steven became the focus of your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat as the dim light in your living room accented his structured face and wavy dark locks. Even with the blanket draped over his frame, his plain white t-shirt did little to hide his muscular arms and broad shoulders.

The abrupt screech of the kettle caused you to jolt and you quickly turned off the stove to avoid the sound reaching your other sleeping neighbors. After steeping chamomile bags in two separate cups, you joined Steven on the couch, leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. You handed him a mug and he gingerly peeled it from your grip. Your teeth gritted together as his soft fingers brushed against yours. Steven frowned, noticing your shift in demeanor.

“You cold, darling?” He shimmied out of the blanket, letting it fall to his waist.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal-” Suddenly, Steven scooted next to you before throwing the blanket over both of your laps with one hand. It was the smoothest thing you had ever witnessed, you forgot how to breathe in that moment. 

“There we are. It wouldn’t be right of me to hog all of your blanket.” You couldn't help but laugh. Without further thought, you and Steven simultaneously sipped your cups of tea, the hot beverage instantly calming your mind and muscles. Steven hummed happily as the tea warmed his body. Yet, he was still wide awake.

The grandfather clock that stood strong in your living room ticked loudly to fill the silence of the room. It glared dauntingly into your and Steven’s souls as you drank your tea while avoiding each other’s gazes. The pendulum swung from side to side as if waiting for one of you to make a move. As Steven drank the last drop of tea, he was left with no other choice but to break the silence.

“You know something, love?” You suddenly became more interested in Steven as you set the mug on your coffee table. “Ever since I met you, things have changed.”

“I hope it’s a good kind of change.”

Steven peered down, smiling softly. “Yeah, it was. For starters, you have really helped me combat this insomnia. I couldn’t tell you about the last time I had a good night’s sleep.” Your lips curled into a dopey grin, and your skin grew hot. Yet neither the tea nor the blanket contributed to the warm feeling inside you. 

“Then, there is your kindness. No one has been as nice as you have been to me so it feels reassuring to know there’s still good people out there. You are also extremely bold. To move all the way from across the pond is…It’s brave. You’ve done all the things I’m scared to do.” He rambled on and on but one thing reeled in your attention. “To tell you the truth, I’m quite smitten with you, love.” 

“Steven…” You were at a loss for words. Your heart skipped a beat after learning he felt the same way about you. 

“Forgive me if I am too forward, but-”

“No, not at all. In fact, I feel the same way towards you.” Your hands met in the middle of the blanket, bringing you back to the moment your hands first touched outside your doors. This time, the spark between you two was much stronger.

“Can I kiss you, love?” 

“I thought you would never ask.”

Steven laughed before cupping your face with his large hands and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet yet full of passion. It reminded you of a flame so bright you couldn’t help but reach out and touch it because you knew it wouldn’t hurt or scar you. Your lips molded together like a sculptor forming the greatest piece that’ll be admired for centuries to come. Time froze as your lips danced in unison and space ceased to exist around you and between you. 

Losing sleep was the last thing on Steven’s mind. For how could he lose when he was with you? Sleep will eventually find its way back to him. He couldn’t snooze and miss the moment of you and him in each other’s embrace.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Steven Grant Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

[fyonahmacnally]

Watching Her

Kara stares at the blank screen in front of her. She’s been sitting at her dining room table for what feels like days. She needs to be writing her article, but it seems her brain has other plans. Instead, she’s trying to string together the words that have plagued her mind for months. Well, plaguing her for years really, if she’s being honest. 

Plus, lately there’s this urgent need to explain to her raven haired goddess of a best friend how much she means to the hero. Every time Kara thinks she can speak it aloud, the words get stuck in her throat. So, she thought she’d write them instead. Apparently that’s not working either since she’s been staring at her screen for Rao knows how long. No article and no words for Lena. She’s come up short either way. Since the genius woman left for Newfoundland a few days ago, the blonde hasn’t been able to think of much else. 

Just Lena. Always Lena.

Her time in the Phantom Zone was wrought with the fear of never seeing those mesmerizing bi-colored eyes or touching soft porcelain skin again. Their relationship has weathered storms most married couples haven’t faced. A sentiment that forces her thoughts down a path she’s skillfully avoided for years. Kara knows they reconciled and have swapped both apologies and forgiveness, but she’s still not sure where they stand. What they are. Friends? Yes, but there’s always been more. Unfortunately, dealing with the madness surrounding Lex and Nyxly hasn’t given them much time to sort through things. To truly talk.

There are countless things Kara wants to say. While in the Phantom Zone, she relived almost every moment of her relationship with Lena. The worst of things played out before her on most occasions, but the visions also allowed her subconscious to say things she’s always been too cowardly to say. As much as being there sucked, it also gave her insight into how much is still unsaid between them. Insight into where her true home lies. Who is her perfect partner at game night. 

It’s Lena. It has always been Lena.

She shakes her head with a sigh. The cursor on her screen mocks her. This is what happens every time she tries to put words on the page. Her thoughts instantly drift to Lena and all the words she’s choked back or refused to speak. Then a smile drifts across her lips, thoughts of how close she came to kissing the raven haired goddess. Right there in the middle of the tower when she first greeted Lena. If it hadn’t been for Alex and everyone else in the room, she might have. 

No, she’s sure she would have.

“Rao, stop it Kara!” She mutters to herself, slapping her forehead to punctuate her point. “You have an article to write. Even if it is a fluff piece for Andrea.”

Rolling her eyes at the thought of her boss, she straightens her spine, stretches her arms in front of her, shakes them out, and settles back in to write. 

A few hours later, Kara realizes she’s been writing a stream of consciousness. Her once blank document is filled with words. It’s great that she was able to get so many words on the page, but it’s absolutely, 100% not related to the article she needs to write for her deadline. A deadline two days from now. 

Nope. 

Every single word is related to Lena. 

Kara drops her chin to her chest, blowing out a breath of frustration before sitting back in her chair and dragging her hands down her face. “Okay, I guess I should read through this mess of thoughts. Maybe it will give me something for Lena.”

As her eyes rove over the page, drinking in the words she has written, Kara feels her body grow warm. Before her, on the laptop screen, sits the words she’s been looking for. The combination of things she’s longed to share with her best friend for the better part of six years. Sure, she’s going to have to edit some things and polish it up. However, she’s confident she finally has the words she wants to share. 

Lena comes back early. Kara isn’t sure why, but her raven haired friend doesn’t seem open to talking about it. She can tell something is on Lena’s mind though. The woman’s behavior certainly derails Kara’s plan to give Lena the journal/letter she wrote. 

Just another delay. Such is the life they live. The life of a hero.

They make plans to hangout together. Kara invites Lena to her loft to catch up and eat pie. Because…pie! 

The blonde watches her, drinking in her profile. Strong, sharp jawline. Soft, pouty lips. Perfectly manicured brows, vibrant porcelain skin, and shiny ebony locks cascading down her back, a few strands hanging over her shoulder and resting on her collarbone. Lena is without a doubt the most beautiful person Kara has ever seen, across any and all planets she’s been on. This woman captivates her, steals her breath, and owns her heart. 

She must get lost in her observation because the next thing she feels is a soft hand on her forearm breaking her from her trance.

“Kara?” Lena practically whispers, squeezing the hero’s forearm. “Darling, are you okay?”

She clears her throat, her embarrassment no doubt on display across her cheeks, spreading onto her ears. “Umm, yeah. F-Fine.”

Lena cocks her head to the side, patented eyebrow raise in place. “Want to try again? I know you didn’t catch what I said because you undoubtedly would have responded.” She releases the blonde’s forearm before shifting to face her. “Now, tell me what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

A long, shaky sigh makes its way out of Kara’s mouth. She is unquestionably not going to admit what currently has her distracted. Which means she needs to come up with something that is close to the truth, but doesn’t force her to admit her feelings. Not yet.

“I just, well, I missed you.” She reaches up to adjust glasses that aren’t there before diverting her hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “There’s so much we have to catch up on and it’s a little surreal that you’re here. With me. Right now.” She trails off, the fading blush from a few minutes ago rushing back across her impervious skin. 

A full, gorgeous, dimpled smile spreads across Lena’s face. It’s the smile that Kara used to see all the time during their countless lunch dates and game nights. It makes her heart stutter in her chest, a sight more beautiful than Rao’s dawn on Krypton. 

“I missed you, too. We do have a lot to catch up on.” Lena winks at her before sitting her half-eaten pie on the coffee table. “Do you want me to finish what I was saying or are you ready to tell me what’s got you so distracted?”

“Y-You go ahead and finish what you were saying. We can talk about my scattered brain later.” She gives her most endearing grin, hoping it will persuade her best friend to continue.

It works. They exchange stories for the next couple of hours. Lena shares what she learned about her mother and how apparently she comes from a long line of powerful sorceresses. Kara shares the crazy things they fought and dealt with in her absence along with the plan to get rid of Lex and Nyxly for good. Another night of completely skirting her inner dialogue. 

And so it goes for several weeks afterward. They spend their time working to get rid of the worst Luthor and his psychotic fifth-dimensional girlfriend. In the aftermath of William’s death, losing Lillian, and Alex and Kelly’s wedding, Lena seems to come to terms with her magical abilities and gain confidence in her new identity as the last Luthor standing. 

The good Luthor.

While Alex and Kelly are on their honeymoon, Kara and Lena finally have the conversation both of them have been putting off. 

The two of them are curled up on opposite ends of Kara’s couch, each holding a cup of their preferred tea. They exchange shy, knowing smiles for several seconds before Lena breaks the comfortable silence.

“You know, I used to think the biggest monsters I had to fear were Lex and Lillian.” Lena softly says, running her finger along the edge of her rapidly cooling mug. “Over the past year and especially these last few months, I’ve learned we make our own monsters. We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves.”

A plethora of emotions swirl in the verdant eyes that look up and connect with concerned, but affectionate blue ones. They revel in brief silence, drinking in the intimacy and vulnerability of their shared space. Two battered souls that completely understand one another in ways no one else can.

Lena takes a deep breath, sits her now cold mug on the coffee table, and pats the cushion next to her hoping Kara will slide closer. She watches as Kara places her own mug down and shuffles across the couch, planting herself close enough that Lena’s knee sits against the side of her thigh. A delicate, pale hand rests on top of a warm tan one.

Kara turns her hand to lace their fingers together, gently squeezing Lena’s in a show of comfort. “I get that, at least I think I do. We’ve both been through so much in our lives, so much trauma.” The hero sucks in a ragged breath, all the things she’s lost flashing through her mind. “We both have wounds that will never show on our bodies. Wounds that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. But, as painful as they are, they’ve built us into who we are.”

A soft huff and a chuckle of incredulity sound beside her causing blue eyes to shift from their hands to Lena’s half-amused, half-saddened expression. “You’re not wrong, but I wish there was a better, less painful path to get here.” She rolls her eyes at the situation. “I guess part of my point in saying this about Lex and Lillian is that loving and yearning for love can be blinding. Sometimes, I think, we don’t really see how toxic someone is until we finally breathe fresher air.”

Lena lifts her free hand to gently rub soft patterns into the skin on Kara’s hand still clasped in hers. “When I was in Newfoundland, it reminded me that who I am and where I came from are only small pieces of who I want to be. Being in the fresh air, away from the Luthor name gave me a new perspective. It helped me realize some things.” 

A wistful smile spreads across her face as she pauses her ministrations on Kara’s skin. “There is a home no one can take from you, a home that will last. I think who you are, who you surround yourself with, and what you believe in is your real home. For me, that home is you, Kara.” She takes a shaky breath and makes eye contact with the blonde, hoping to convey how truly sincere she is. The raw truth in her statement.

Kara’s breath catches, her eyes glisten with tears. Lena hasn’t actually said the words she longs to hear, but it carries the same meaning. She does her best to collect her emotions and prevent the epic ramble she can sense coming. There is a journal/letter or whatever you want to call it she needs to share with Lena. So. She needs to get herself together. 

Which is hard when Lena looks so stunning. The happiness and confidence that exudes from her without Lex and Lillian looming over her, it makes her more alluring than ever. Kara’s mind constantly drifts to thoughts of ebony locks and viridian eyes.

Rao, Lena has never looked so beautiful. She’s a goddess amongst mere mortals…

She shakes her head and forces herself back to reality.

“You know, I spent a lot of time thinking about things too. While you were in Newfoundland, I mean. Well, and while I was in the Phantom Zone. Lots of time to think there.” She shakes her head, the urge to ramble growing stronger and she wants to do this right. Blowing out a breath and pulling another in, she tries to calm herself before trying again. “I’ve given a lot of thought to having a home and what it really means to me. I always see the same thing, Lena. Your face, your smile. It’s always you. I, umm, I wrote something about it while you were gone.”

Releasing their connected hands proves more difficult than she anticipated, but she manages. She pulls the folded paper from her pocket where it has been since she finished it. Her hope was the right moment would present itself and she could either let Lena read it or read it to her. Now the moment is here and she’s more nervous than her Pulitzer ceremony.

Clearing her throat, she pauses before locking eyes with her best friend and lightly shrugs. “I guess I’m not sure if you want to just read it or if you want me to read it to you. I mean, I’ll do either. Just as long as you know what it says and…” A nervous chuckle escapes and she shifts herself on the couch, turning her body toward her best friend. “What would you prefer? I’m going to be nervous and jittery regardless.”

Lena tilts her head and lifts her hand to her chin feigning thought. “Well, if you are giving me the choice, I am going to choose having you read it to me.” She pats the Kryptonian on the thigh before leaning her elbow onto the backrest of the couch, propping her head in her hand. “If I can listen to your words and hear your thoughts through your voice, I am going to choose that option every time, Kara.”

They laugh and settle into place as Kara unfolds the paper. She knows this is going to change things, she just doesn’t know how much. With one last look at the woman that holds her heart, she begins to read.

--------------------------

Watching her. It’s something I catch myself doing quite frequently. It’s not that I mean to or I do it on purpose. It just happens. She’s always captivated me. Her wit. Her brilliance. Her grace. Not to mention her eyes. Her smile. Her armor piercing eyebrow raise. There are so many things about her that reel me in.

From the first moment our eyes met, the first time my eyes connected with the deep pools of sea green, I knew she was special. Someone important. And that is the moment my world shifted.

Watching her is distracting. She moves with a sense of surety and power unlike any I’ve seen. Her intelligence is a super power very few possess, she wields it with both caution and tenacity. The desire to help others is so innate to her soul, even the sinister Luthors couldn’t break her drive to do good.

From the first time she helped save the city, I knew she was a hero. A woman worthy of respect and honor, no matter the name she was born under. That was the moment I knew we could take on the world together.

Watching her is awe inspiring. She is so willing to give, to help others, to share her inventions and love of science for the betterment of society, for the greater good of the world. She strives to help others, sometimes even at the detriment of herself.

From the moment she put herself on the line for the safety of others, I knew she was worthy of more than what so many hurl at her. Worthy of love, trust, and respect, leagues beyond what the world has given her.

Watching her is life changing. Life has so many twists and turns, nothing is guaranteed or promised. But when I see her, when I watch her teach her goddaughter new things, when I watch her toss her head back in unrestrained laughter, even when I watch tears drift down her pale cheeks…watching her is life changing.

From the moment I first held her in my arms, I knew my life was forever changed. The gift of her smile is priceless, the gift of her trust is sacred, but the gift of her love is divine.

Watching her has forever changed my life, finding her is how I found my home. --------------------------

Kara finishes reading, but is hesitant to look up. She’s not sure how Lena is going to react and doesn’t want to see rejection reflected back at her. It isn’t until she hears a soft sniffle that her head bolts up and her eyes find teary, sparkling green ones. 

Her eyes widen and she reaches out to wipe the tears away. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The blonde grabs the box of tissues from the coffee table and hands one to Lena. “Are you okay? Do you need me to leave? I can…”

Her rambling words are halted by a soft finger pressing against her lips. She keeps her eyes on the woman the finger belongs to. The mossy pools she’s gotten lost in countless times search her oceanic ones, apparently finding what she needs.

Lena slowly removes her finger, gently lifting both hands to rest on Kara’s cheeks. She presses their foreheads together and sighs. “I guess two lost little girls finally found their home.”

Neither of them know who leaned in first. In the end, it really doesn’t matter. Not when the result is their lips pressing together and a home to call their own.

[lz-didyounotice]

Baking weekends : The surprise

Those gifs do not belong to me.

Heyyyyy! How are you lots ? As promised, here comes another episode of the baking week ends ! This follows up the event of "An hymne to love", as well as the last espisode, "Kiss the cook".

Anyway... Hope you enjoy !

Froggit-

Warning : there's a lot of fluff, mention of making out in the tardis. English is not my first language.

--------------------------

The grocery store seemed to be way too full for a Saturday morning. Paying for the few articles you had in your basket, you got out, frantically searching for your car. There was so little time until the doctor and Clara came back from another of their adventures.

Driving as fast as the law allowed you, you pulled up to your small cottage, sprinting toward your house, paper bags in hand. Your coat was quickly put on a hanger as your shoes went flying in the entry. 

Washing your hands conscientiously, you tried to get your plan straight one more time, making sure nothing was missing. 

You had wanted to surprise the Doctor for a long while now. Back when Amy and Rorry were still traveling with you, a brilliant idea had come to you in the form of a red recipe book. The cover was old and titled with circles and other intricate designs you soon realized, was Gallifreyan. Having seen the notes the doctor tended to leave in the console room for repairs the Tardis needed, it was only ever so obvious.

For the sake of this recipe, you had to go to small markets while on another planet, wanting to find every single ingredient of what the doctor had stated to be his favorite dessert back home. Finally opening the book, you couldn’t help yourself, and shed a tear as you saw the numerous yellow sticky notes on every page, annotations left by Donna, your previous self older sister.

"How can I be sure he ain't as rotten as the last one?" 

Donna was upset to be keeped from such an important part of your life. If you were honest, you were sad to not be able to share it, but it was either that or losing her once more.

On that day, you had asked for her help, but she wanted to know more about that brilliant 

stranger you said changed you in better ways.

"Do you reckon I would be baking for him if he weren't important?"

"Cor blimey, you two had been goin’ out for bleedin’ three years, and I still never met the bloke!"

“I told you he traveled an awful lot.” you let out passing by the radio and changing the station.

“Just spill it if he's scared of meeting mom.” She let out with a small laugh. You could only do the same, bumping her with your hip as you did so.

You missed her dearly, her and her sassy comebacks. Since your new “Regeneration” you haven't been able to see her. What would she even say ? She didn’t know this version of you, you didn’t even look the same, and putting her life at risk would be irresponsible. You had just hopped that may be one day you would meet her once more. 

Putting up some energetic music, you wore your apron and got to work, sleeves put up to the elbow. The adventure only truly started now, something you waited so long to put up.

--------------------------

The doctor and Clara had been off all day, the brunette insisting on going a little longer, still waiting for your signal. The timelord was starting to be suspicious of Claras behavior, wondering what got his companion so energized for such a long adventure, he even was starting to wonder if she wasn’t a clone trying to keep him from earth longer than normal. 

But like the over-excited traveler he was, he couldn’t put down the offer, for all he knew, he was expected back at your cottage by the end of afternoon. Today was a busy day for you, and even if he wanted to have taken you with them, you insisted for them to spend some time together. It saddened him of course, none the less he understood today wasn’t a good day to go off with her.

Right now, the doctor was admiring a beautiful fez he had found within the small shop he and Clara came across, visiting a brand new planet. Soon enough he felt his shoulder being tapped on by the said girl, a tired smile visibly drawing itself on her lips. Asking the doctor to take her home, Clara had just closed her phone, saving it in her back pocket.  

After buying the fez, he seemed proud as he pushed the levers on the console. Rocking his new hat, Clara only could wonder if he would ever come across one without having to put it on. Even if she didn’t dream of seeing him less happy, she wanted the surprise that awaited him back home would light him up even brighter. 

With the Brunette back at her apartment, the doctor had no patience in waiting some more and launched the Tardis. Soon, his foot touched the vast landing of grass, still illuminated as the sun slowly hid behind the clouds.

Without any hesitation, his hand found the ringing bell of the small cottage, his heart pounding harder and harder as the seconds got by. 

Passing your head by the now unlocked window, the doctor seemed to ignite, happy to finally be back. “Darling, the door is open! Come on in!” Your hair was a mess, your glasses hanging from around your neck, beautifully portrayed by the light of the setting sun highlighting your figure. Smiling at you, the doctor entered the house, coming practically 10 seconds later face to face with you. “Well, welcome home Sweetheart”.

--------------------------

“I told you to not cheat! close those beautiful eyes before I smack you.”

The doctor was too curious to wait for the surprise you had put up for him. And right now, all he wanted was to take a tiny peak. But knowing how serious you could be about those things, he didn’t jocked around long before closing his eyes.

Soon you entered the room, a beautiful cake in your hands. Its sunny color, outshining the yellow of your apron. Slowing placing the cake before the Doctor. You gently brushed his shoulder. “Doctor, you can open them… ”

Finally letting go of his face, the man thought he was dreaming. Before him stood something that was supposed to be long gone, never to be seen again. And as he admired the wonderful pâtisserie, he couldn’t help but notice it wasn't just any Gallifreyan cake; it was a homemade one. 

Both his hearts skipped a beat as he realized the significance of the gesture. Turning to his wife with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, he couldn't help but smile.

"Did you...?" he started, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You couldn’t help but beamed with pride when you saw the love in his eyes. "Yes, Doctor. I thought since you couldn't go back to Gallifrey yet, I'd bring a little piece of it to you."

The Doctor's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked at the cake, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of your gesture. At this moment, all he could think of was how much he loved you, and how much you meant.

Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, the Doctor rose from his chair, wrapping both arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck, trying to hide his tears as they got out of control. Pulling you into a tight yet comforting hug, all he could muster was a soft “Thank you” thick with all the love he could let out. "This... means more to me than you could ever know."

Your hand was now passing on his back, soothing him as much as you could. Your other tangled itself with his soft hair as you stood there for another minute. You never wanted this embrace to end. But as you pulled slightly away, you could only see how much the doctor truly meant every word.

With a gentle smile, you reached down, your hand slowly cradling his cheek as you leaned in softly, closing the distance between them. Your breath mingled, warm yet sweet as your lips brushed together in a soft yet passionate kiss. But as you parted, the doctor only tried to reach for your lips, making you snort softly at the surprised look on his face.

“I do believe we still have to taste the cake, now don’t we?”

“I- … yes”

“We will continue… this after…-”

--------------------------

And to say you had outdone yourself was an understatement. You would have expected it to taste funny with the numerous strange ingredients you had to add. It was heavenly, and by the doctor's face, you could only tell he was enjoying every second of it.

“Is it any good ?” Serving yourself another portion.

"Blimey, love! This... this is fantastic! Haven't had a nibble like this in eons... It's not just good, it's utterly brilliant! Delicious doesn't even begin to describe it!" He answered, still trying to shove more cake in his mouth.

Your cheeks flared up, genuinely happy, and proud you had done such good work. In the beginning, you feared it wouldn’t have the same taste as the one that existed back home, and you felt relieved that the doctor could recognize a fond memory in it.

--------------------------

It was safe to say, the cake did not survive long enough. You and the doctor, now cuddling in the softness of the Tardis covers.  

After the cake had been devoured, you had to have a turn. The thankful kisses you gave one another, turned into a heated session of making out against the tardis console, his fingerprints still lingering on your inner thighs. And just like that it was you and him against the world once more. 

His fingers passed through your short ginger hair as a comfortable silence installed itself. You looked up at him and could tell he had some questions about the whole surprise.

“You have a lot of questions don’t you ?”

“I always do…”

“Ask away then, I know you’re curious.”

Shifting slightly closer, the doctor leaned onto his elbow, making his face right above you. “How long did this take you ?”

Your hand reaching out for his jaw, you pulled a small but sad grin. “I started trying back when Amy was still traveling with us. Unfortunately, I died shortly after so… been planning longer than our wedding. ” 

The doctor laughed slightly with you, remembering the chaotic moment. “And the recipe? Where did you find it? The Tardis database is still written in Gallifreyan as far as I’m aware of- ”

“No such trouble when you have learned to read it.”

“What..?”

“Why so surprised? Did you think I would traverse the universe for eons and not try to embrace your culture? What sort of wife would I be ?”

And just when he thought he couldn’t love you more, he did. His hearts swelled with pride as he looked into your eyes. Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead, brushing away some strands of hair still in the way.

“You truly are remarkable (Y/N).....”

“It goes both ways my Bowtie maniac.”

And as the sun rose again on the Tardis, the two lovers intertwined once more, laying one against another as close as you could, afraid time might slip by and take you both apart.

You couldn’t have dreamed of a better outcome.

--------------------------

Bonus : 

“I knew Clara was up to something!” Complained the time lord only now realizing why his companion was so indecisive about where to land.

“Only figured now she had to keep you busy while I was baking?”

“That’s an awful trickery-”

“As far as I’m aware, if you hadn't been off, you wouldn’t have this wonderful fez of yours, now would you ?” Turning around him you swiftly took the red hat off his head, putting it on your own.

“Oi, mine-” He quickly tried to retrieve it, but knowing you it could be easy or involve a lot of running.

Dodging his hand, you took the opportunity to run off in the Tardis corridors singing “Nope, mine now!” as you ran across the control room.

“(Y/N)! ” The doctor was slightly panicked but it was just a matter of time before all of it evolved into laughter. 

[themaclean]

hi i just came from ao3 and firstly, i have read ur vaultghoul fic probably 20 times already it’s just so good with spot on characterization and amazing writing, thank u so much 🙏

secondly, i was reading the comments on it and came across one abt wanting to see a pre-war au where cooper and lucy start an affair and immediately my ears perked up like 👀 all i could imagine is her being cast as his love interest, her being a big fan of his already, and them having a wedding scene where they fuck in her wedding dress after they call cut

n e way so sorry for rambling haha but unfortunately ive got the brainrot now

I MEAN HYPOTHETICALLY -- I'm mobile (and somehow wrote 2k words still wheeze) so I'll finish this when I'm on my PC but I played around with the idea a bit thanks to this ask. :)

...

Summary; Cooper Howard x Lucy MacLean, 2077 AU where Lucy and Cooper star in a movie together.

...

There's a whole host of ways that Vault-Tec could have cracked down on Cooper. Given the infringement of their security protocols and the divorce and the way they choked him out of all the good roles...

It wasn't such a far stretch that he'd have to take place in the biggest circle jerk of a film production where his super-fan shoved his daughter into a starring role using Cooper's connections.

Because, so far as the public knew, he was still a supporter of Vault-Tec and he'd do just about anything to sell that delusion.

Cooper crushed the heel of his palms against his eyes, a limp cigarette hung between his teeth.

The girl was a nightmare.

Stiff, picky, absent-minded. No emotion, either, no semblance of self-awareness. It was like some Disney Princess popped out of the cartoons in the worst way, quick to parrot the lines she was meant to say with perfect diction but nothing more than that.

And it was somehow his fucking job to coach the girl -- Lucy -- into a leading lady. The idea was that she was the daughter of the Overseer, played by her actual father, and Cooper was some vault dweller from another section.

The whole thing was convoluted. He did cowboy flicks and the sort that had a showdown at the end. This sci-fi garbage went right over his head, this future projection of the what-if. He didn't have time for the what-if.

He had a daughter he needed to vy for custody of and an expensive divorce on the horizon. And Barb had the best lawyers money could buy and he'd never thought they'd end up like this. There was no pre-nup and nothing to protect him.

And he didn't have a goddamn lighter.

"You shouldn't smoke."

Cooper near growled around the butt of his cigarette, only just keeping himself civil at the last moment. He turned towards Lucy, unable to mistake her for anyone else. There was something about her vacant, pretty face that irked him, those giant goddamn eyes.

"It's bad for you. I read an article about it."

"Maybe you'd be better off reading your lines again," Cooper said with a wave of his hand. He dug in his jacket pocket, the one he'd worn to set.

Bingo.

Lucy crossed her arms and leaned against the vault railing. It was strange to do the filming down, a hundred feet or so beneath the surface, but it made for impressive sets. They were around the corner from the rest of the camera crew and cast.

And they were alone for the first time since shooting. Most times, Cooper had a few stage hands or interns at his heel. And he didn't see Lucy around much, except for scenes. Didn't chase her down, didn't much think of her.

Except now he's aware she's still in the wedding dress she'd been in earlier. Stage blood soaked the stomach of it, thick streams of blood from where she'd been stabbed. But he'd saved her and they'd shared a chaste kiss for the camera.

And then he hadn't seen her.

"I thought you'd be a better kisser."

Cooper didn't withhold the glare, couldn't bring himself to give a fuck. "Pardon?"

"Just -- the kiss. Didn't really..." Lucy narrowed her eyes at him. "I grew up watching your movies. My dad is a big fan. I always figured you'd be a good kisser, but you aren't."

"You ain't much yourself, either," Cooper said with a raised brow. "Like a fish, sweetheart. Cold."

"I'm not a fish," she snapped back. "That's very mean. I -- I know I was mean first but I just thought you could do better."

Cooper couldn't help but laugh to himself at this miserable brat who'd sought him out to complain about an on-screen kiss. He took a long drag, his gaze slanted across the backs of his knuckles.

"You're here 'cause your daddy yanked some strings," Cooper shrugged a shoulder. "My only obligation is to make a movie for the studio. I'm not your damn boyfriend-for-hire, trying to get you off for the cameras."

Cooper was a professional and on his best behaviour -- usually. But the long days of filming for a corporation rooted in the exploitation of the country he'd fought for... That patience wore thinner with each moment he was alone with this brat.

"I'm here as an actress -- "

"You can act?" Cooper asked, mock surprise as he pressed a hand to his chest.

Lucy had the gall to look offended.

Cooper took another drag, his hip notched against the railing. "It's a movie, darling. I've been doing this shit for years. They ain't gonna let people tongue each other to high hell."

"That..."

"That is exactly how it works," Cooper said as he ashed his cigarette onto the grate beneath his feet. "It's not about you, it's about the shot."

Lucy looked at him like he'd slapped her. "I know it's about the shot."

"Could've fooled me." Cooper huffed out a breath. He'd kissed plenty of women for his films and he was a consummate professional. If the audience bought into it, that was all he needed. He didn't give a damn if his co-star got butterflies over it.

Especially not the daughter of some jackass at Vault-Tec, for a project that was nothing more than an empty propaganda piece. But he didn't have much choice.

"I'm here because it's important to my father. Vault-Tec wanted to keep as many roles as they could within the company -- "

"Nepotism."

"To promote the culture they want within the movie, which is carefully curated -- "

"Cultish."

"To their... Could you stop doing that?"

Cooper crossed his arms, his cigarette nearly finished. The vault had good enough ventilation that the smoke disappeared but the smell lingered. He pushed away from the railing, his expensive smile slack across his lips.

"I had my fill of the Vault-Tec propaganda, sweetheart. Don't make a difference if it's from a pamphlet or a pretty girl, I'm just doing what I'm being paid to."

"Wasn't it your wife -- ex-wife -- who brought you in originally?"

Cooper's neck twitched as he looked down at Lucy, as she smart-mouthed her way right into some shit she didn't know anything about. He tipped his head to the side, the annoying collar of the vault suit biting into his jawline.

"So you believed what Vault-Tec thought originally." Lucy toyed with the stain on her white dress, her fingers tugged at the frayed edge. "What changed?"

"Nothing," Cooper said, his voice flat.

Lucy met his eye, her head tilted to contrast the angle of his head. She settled a hand on the railing, uncertainty replaced her uppity edge from before. "I'm not trying to spy on you or get information. You just -- had your life together, and then you're getting divorced."

"It happens," Cooper said, aware now that she was between him and the crew. The vault split into spidery webs in all directions, though. He could leave her if he wanted. But then he'd end up who knows where, deep in the belly of this steel nest.

But they were alone, and she'd inched closer to him.

Cooper saw the leading ladies he worked with as colleagues. Sometimes they'd have to kiss or imitate gentle moments or intimacy -- but for the most part, he could compartmentalise it. But Lucy didn't act. She couldn't. She was an atrocious leading lady and she read everything as if she were saying it herself.

Like a porn actress, saying shit to get through to the action, rushing through the writing like it didn't matter.

It wasn't her fault. He had the sneaking suspicious she had no interest in acting or in this movie; that she was only doing it because her father asked her to do it. Maybe even so she could have an excuse to meet him, he realized dimly as she looked up at him with wide hazel eyes.

That separation -- of leading lady and of a romantic partner -- muddled with her. Because he didn't even like her. He didn't want to get to know her. He hated her father and he wanted nothing to do with this company.

And she was closer to him than not, and they'd kissed a handful of times, and she'd said he sucked at it.

Cooper rolled his jaw as Lucy didn't have the guts to do more than she had. Her moony eyes fixed up at him like a challenge. And then he felt his resolve snap because it wasn't like he had much to lose. This wasn't a real acting gig and she wasn't a real leading lady.

His hand snapped out, fingers and thumb dug into her cheek. He brought her close, to see what she'd do. The answer was -- not much. She didn't shout or push him away, their mouths inches apart as he hovered close to her, examining her beneath his lashes.

"Bad kisser -- that what you said?"

Lucy swallowed hard enough to nudge his hand. "Well, you were. I'm not going to lie to you to spare your ego."

Cooper made a soft sound from the back of his throat as he kissed her. The distant crack and shift of the crew as they moved their cameras from one vault room to another should be a deterent but Cooper doesn't care.

He's single, isn't he. Has been for a few months. He'd not acted on it, hadn't felt the urge to, but he's as trapped as ever in the shadow of what Barb had done to him. It's only fair he make use of that shadow to indulge, even if it's just to prove a point to this girl Lucy.

There's some inherent amusement to how she melted into the kiss. She wanted it far more than she'd let on, that soft mewing, moaning neediness as he stroked her long brown hair out of her face. He threaded his fingers softly through her hair, hand on either side of her face, fingers combing through her hair.

Her back was arched over the railing as he gave her the kiss she'd probably expected earlier, the one he wasn't about to throw out on camera. There's standards for cinema and he didn't want to waste film or time.

But then her fingers were on the zipper of the stupid fucking vault suit. He didn't stop her, even as she yanked it down and slipped her hand along his stomach.

If anything, he pushed harder against her. The fluffy white skirt of her wedding dress made it hard to get much for himself. But with a yank of her knee and the shift of her weight, he had her seated on the railing. Her shoulder caught one of the metal frames, to keep her pinned in place.

If this were any other job or any other actress, he'd give a fuck.

But it's Vault-Tec, through and through.

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

the rekindling of your relationship continues, leaving a confession of your own pending.

warnings: 18+ | wc: 5576 | 5/8

Was there a name for a honeymoon phase the second time around?

There wasn’t a technical phrase, you checked. Interestingly, among your research, you came across an article that perfectly articulated what you were experiencing with Ruben. It was the stage of your relationship where you now saw their imperfections and flaws, where you didn’t see your partner on the pedestal you initially place them on in the beginning.

He was no longer the one person who could do no wrong in your eyes or the one who held all the answers to your problems. You weren’t the co-dependent and starry eyed girl who only viewed others through a lens of what you wanted them to be either.

You were okay with that and so was he.

After making quite the…mess in your office, there wasn’t much face to face interaction between you two. Ruben was quickly whisked away by his team to another country for a Champions League match. Even though that initially felt like an inconvenience, you shifted the perspective to something more constructive.

It gave you time to sit with your thoughts and emotions. You still had no regrets about getting back together with him, but you had to truly assess the decision from every angle within. The way it transpired seemed relatively rushed at first. In retrospect, you realized it was anything but hasty.

Your previously relationship with Ruben never came to an organic end. There was no fizzling out or love lost, only an obstacle that he didn’t give himself or you a chance to push through. Had things been different and he brought his fears to you then, would you have ever broken up?

All roads you took in that vein lead you to believe that you wouldn’t have. Of course, there was no way to know for sure what the future held for that version of events. Anything could’ve happened over the course of those seven years that might’ve eventually drove a wedge between you. However, as things were, there was no end in sight.

Maybe that was why it still was effortless with him, potentially even more so now than it was then. You’d both experienced a lot of growth as one naturally does when life progresses. The people you were currently and the past you shared left no room for pretense. He came as he was, raw and unfiltered in his accountability. You didn’t feel obligated to give him anything in return - you wanted to. And that carried the most weight.

“What happened to the sofa?”

Cindy’s question brought you back to a startling reality. You tried to reign in your nervous expression, smoothing fallen hairs at the back of your neck.

“I made a big mess with some takeout.” Even you had a hard time buying that. “It was irredeemable. A new one should be here in a few hours.”

Aki came in from the kitchen, munching on the lo mein. “Shame. I really liked that big, comfy thing.”

That nibbling guilt returned to your stomach. Compounded onto the fact that you still had yet to tell her about the first conversation was now the big revelation that you’d gotten back together with Ruben. Your apprehension only grew worse with the addition of the later.

It didn’t stem from a lack of trust or a fear of judgment. She was somebody that you could confess a murder to and it would only be met with a response like, do you need help hiding the body?

You just knew that it wouldn’t be highly celebrated news. The way things ended, her being caught in the crossfire and the absolute wreck you were would be the things playing at the forefront of her mind when you told her. It was no fault of hers, literally anyone else in the same position wouldn’t be able to not think back to that time.

Perhaps stronger than any of that was the worry that your confession would hurt her. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like you didn’t consider the pain she carried silently in regards to Ruben. It was a complicated situation that you were still trying to navigate internally.

Luckily, for the time being, you had the distraction of work. Erling’s project was on its finishing touches. You’d finalized the website and had it ready to launch, Aki aced securing a major partnership and Cindy was working with his assistant to put together a small launch party.

Did they buy the excuse about the “takeout”.

You bit down on a smile as your fingers typed quickly.

I think so. The leftovers in the fridge sold it more than I did.

“What’s got you all giggly?” Aki materialized at your door.

You jumped slightly, startled by not even hearing her approach. The messages app flicked shut and you placed your phone down before feigning business at your monitors.

“My mom sent me another one of those videos of her cat.” You replied with ease that shocked yourself.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. She did often send you videos of Jason being a weirdo. Your pseudo sibling had to be the most uncoordinated and ungraceful feline in existence. The latest snippet shared actually did come in this morning with him leaping up and completely missing a tree branch.

“That little guy is spectacularly peculiar.” Her lips pursed. Another white lie seemed to have passed.

“Tell me about it.” You chuckled. “What’s up?”

She slung dramatically across your guest chair. “Just wanted to know if you were burning the midnight oil again.”

Though certainly not her intention, her words made the ache between your thighs prominent to your senses. You squeezed them together and shut down the flashbacks running through your head as you shifted in your seat.

“I should actually try to rest since we have the party in two nights.” You exhaled lengthily.

It was well into the wee hours when you got home this morning, for obvious reasons. And for those same causes, or singular driver, you were too hopped up on adrenaline to fall straight asleep. It didn’t help that you were giggling on the phone with him like you were twelve either.

“Ugh, you’re right.” Aki groaned, shooting back on to her feet to exit. “About the party and the rest, by the way. Not even my emergency kit can rescue you from those eye bags. Luggage at this point.”

Before you could hurl a playful insult back or a pen from your desk, she made quick her escape. You shook your head and decided to actually start getting a move on your tasks for the day. Being snug under your blanket at a decent hour actually sounded like a fantastic idea.

After a nice, long soak in your bathtub, you threw on a onesie and a sheet mask to really activate the relaxation vibe.

The next order of business was finding something good to eat. As much as you wanted to start munching on those delicious chocolate covered ice ream bars in your freezer, you refrained until you could actually get a meal in your stomach.

Rifling through your fridge and pantry was kind of depressing. You’d been so busy recently that there wasn’t time to do a good grocery haul. Most of the food you ate had been acquired on the go and you wanted to cook for a change, but that didn’t look as if it was going to happen tonight.

You wouldn’t complain about ordering in though. Opening the takeout app was just as exhilaration as going on your favorite retail sites. There were so many options and all of your favorites were right at your fingertips.

Your mouth couldn’t help but water as you scrolled through to decide what your poison was going to be tonight. Just as you were looking through the offerings at an Italian place nearby, your phone screen was taken over by a call.

“What are you up to?” The smile in Ruben’s voice was audible.

“I was mid pasta hunt before you interrupted.” You tutted.

“That’s funny, I’m making some right now.” In the background, you heard a pan meeting a stovetop.

So, he was already back home then. You didn’t watch the match earlier, but you did check in on the result. It wasn’t a shock that his team had won given that they were so dominant in the sport - a fact you came to know rather belatedly.

“I can make enough for two, if you want.” Ruben continued.

“Extra cheese. I’ll be there soon.” You grinned before hanging up.

The sheet mask stayed on until the very last minute after you threw on some sweats. It felt like you were holding your breath as you left your loft. Aki wasn’t some overbearing friend that kept tabs on your comings and goings, yet you found yourself easing the door shut to minimize any alert of your exit.

It wasn’t a lie when you told her you wanted to turn in early tonight, you reminded yourself. That was actually the plan and you were halfway there. But when the pasta gods intervened, well, who were you to shun them?

Your car left the garage with Ruben’s address set on the navigation. He messaged it to you, making you laugh silently. Seeing it brought you back to what you guessed was the first tug on the string that unravelled everything. You’d known where he lived since his name popped up on Nike’s mailing list.

A short and smooth twenty minutes - more like fifteen since you kinda hit the gas - found you pulling into his parking garage. One thing he did provide that you needed to know was the code for entry. You took the guest spot beside his jeep and made your way inside.

“So, this is what making a shit ton of money will get you.” Your brows raised as he let you in.

“Mhm,” Ruben kissed you quickly. Then slower the second time. “Wait until you see the view.”

You jokingly gasped and followed the scent of aromatics to his kitchen. While your cooking skills were described as survivable at best, he always had a talent for putting together a really tasty dish. A moan sounded from you as you leaned over the steaming pan.

“I set the wine out on the balcony. Go get comfy, I’ll bring your plate.” He nudged your hips with his.

“Yes, sir.” You bit your lip and made your way over.

When you first stepped into his place, you thought the air was running but the exterior door was cracked. A wide grin broke of once you stepped outside to see the small setup with the admittedly impressive backdrop of the city. He’d turned on the lowlights and lit a few candles. A bottle of red was waiting for you as promised, along with a blanket folded over one of the seats.

You wrapped the thick, knitted fabric around your frame before pouring yourself a decent amount of wine. As you sipped, you took a deep breath and enjoyed the atmosphere. It must be one of his favorite ways to relax away from what seemed to be a hectic life these days.

“Are you comfortable?” Ruben appeared with your food, as promised.

You nodded, extending a hand to help him out. He joined in on your state of coziness and you poured him a glass too.

“Cheers.” He held his out.

“To what?” Your voice lowered.

“Being yours and getting to call you mine again.” Ruben placed a hand over your own.

You shook your head, calling him corny. but it was impossible to hide the way his words flustered you. It was nice to know that the years apart didn’t rob him of his ability to be so romantic. Also pleasant to note was that his cooking had gotten even better.

Your eyes widened as you took a bite of the chicken. It was juicy and perfectly seasoned. As if you couldn’t believe what you’d tasted, you went in immediately for a second bite with the pasta this time. Your palate was being blessed, objectively.

“I asked one of the team’s chefs for their recipe.” Ruben chuckled at your surprise.

“It’s so good.” You shimmed on your third chew.

Over your delicious meal, you asked him a series of questions that you were curious about. The first of them being whether or not this was a date. Of course. You apologized for being underdressed. Don’t be silly, we’re matching. That was true, those grey sweats of his…

Your mind refocused onto the impromptu Q&A. One thing you were definitely intrigued about was that first night you ran into each other. What was he doing in that area? That time of night and the lowkey look he wore honestly screamed leaving a booty call. If that was what it was, you couldn’t be mad.

“Some friends from back home were staying at a hotel nearby.” He answered. “I thought I was going crazy when I saw you running and called out but-”

“Headphones.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes. And then it became a whole thing when you dropped your keys. Nice swing, by the way.” Ruben tipped his glass to you.

The compliment was returned, “Nice reaction time.”

“Tell that to my back.” He grumbled.

You wrapped up your meal and headed back inside to tidy things up. Ruben knew better than to object because if there was one thing you hated, it was leaving a kitchen a mess before heading to bed. The least you would settle for was rinsing everything and placing them in the dishwasher, which you did as his eyes followed.

“So,” You walked over to where he sat on a bar stool. “Are you gonna give me the grand tour?”

His lips curled as he hummed. “This place looks best in the morning.”

Your body found itself between his legs after he pulled you close. Ruben grinned mischievously before tilting forward to taste you. It was instant, the way you opened up for him. His teeth flashing in between your tongues meeting showed just how much he liked that.

“Are you implying something?” You spoke into his mouth.

“Maybe,” He breathed. “Should I just come out and say it?”

You nodded slowly, hands sliding up the the soft fabric covering his muscled thighs.

“Stay with me.”

“Okay-“

Your acceptance was barely completed before it was replaced with a yelp. Ruben stood up and lifted you into his arms. In the time it took you to get to his bedroom, you could’ve scanned around a bit to see a preview of what was to come in the morning. You were too focused on him though.

The prominent vein running along the side of his neck was begging to be kissed. So you pressed your mouth to it - lips parted and hungry. You felt him shudder under the licks and sucks you gave it and all too soon, you were detached to be placed on top of his sprawling bed.

Ruben crawled over you, lifting the back of your knee with his own to hitch your leg over his hips. You giggled into his hungry kisses and then moaned. A sneaky hand of his had made its way under your hoodie, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple as he massaged your breast.

You bit down on his bottom lip, bucking into him - already on the hunt for some kind of relief for your thrumming core. He used his lower half to pin you still. It only made your urge grow into agony, feeling the one thing you wanted most concealed by too many layers. When you tried a stealthy maneuver of your own, he was quick to catch it.

“Always so impatient.” Ruben tutted as he caught your wrist.

“Always such a tease.” You gave it right back.

He chuckled in a way that said I’m gonna make you eat your words. By God, you hoped he did sooner rather than later. You pressed your palms to the bed and pushed up. The silent request was thankfully met with him at least removing your top layer.

You caressed his head and let your back meet the sheets once more as he kissed down your body. Ruben stopped at the waistband of your sweats, giving it a pull between his teeth. A vexed moan sounded in your throat. He shushed you, curling his fingers into either side of your pants before dragging them down.

“Someone came prepared.” His comment came in response to your lack of underwear.

Your look of annoyance didn’t last long. It was swiftly replaced with one of bliss when you felt his mouth close around your pussy, tongue slicing you open for him to get a taste. He exhaled deeply through his nose and tugged you flush to his face.

“Yes, fuck-“ Your breath caught.

Ruben arched his tongue around your clit in a full circle before settling under to push it upwards. You writhed beneath him. The voice in your mind was chastising you as loudly as your body was crying out. It was never a good idea to challenge him.

He was easily the most competitive person you’d ever met, proving it yet again as he held your swollen bud up with a glint in his eye. Chipping away at your resolve. Waiting for your concession. You knew when to choose your battles.

“Please...” The shakiness in your voice really sealed the deal.

His tongue finally licked up your clit and then all over it on the way down. Your thighs locked him in while he gave it his undivided attention, thorough as ever to avoid missing a single spot. Each nerve in the bundle got its kiss, flick and suck.

There were no other sounds in the room besides your labored breaths and cries, his grunts and wet mouth growing drencher with your never ending slick. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pressing him deeper still.

It was right there. The torturously slow buildup preceding the crescendo. You just needed a bit more. Your hips rolled in circles, side to side and then up and down. When he slurped at your hole before twisting his tongue inside, they stilled. He knew he hit the target then and so he kept going.

You mouth stammered over your words as your body did the same in his hold. They were both saying the same thing nonetheless. Ruben spurred you on, a hand coming down on the side of your ass while his tongue kept lapping at your clit.

A guttural noise clawed its way out of you as you tensed and released into his lingering mouth all over again. Once you were reduced to nothing but limp muscles and jolts of aftershocks, he resurfaced.

“So good, baby.” Ruben leaned over to press his glistening lips to yours.

There was no trace left of him in the kiss. The insides of his cheeks, tops and bottoms of his gums and tongue all tasted of you. It sparked life back into your bones, a physical manifestation of what your glasses met over earlier.

Yours.

Mine.

In an unsuspecting move, you flipped him over until you were straddling his hips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you dragged your drenched core slid over his hardened length. It was him that was left squirming beneath you this time, something you’d delight in if you hadn’t already been pushed over the ledge.

Ruben was in the same headspace. His eyes mirrored your own, nearly black with yearning. The layers of his clothing joined yours in a heap at his bedside. No underwear either. Your brows raised alongside your hips, someone was prepared.

A chorus of sighs and moans filled the air as you sank down onto his cock. Your head dropped back, hands pressing into his chest. The way his heartbeat ran wild under your fingertips made your lips tug.

To test your readiness, you arched your back. More glide than burn. You started building your rhythm, thighs tensing to help you move up and down. The more confident you became in taking him, the more your body loosened.

Your ass rolled like a wave, tempo rising each time your flesh came flush to his. Oh, God, you thought you heard him say. Actually, you were sure he’d said it. The way he looked up at you, hands moving to cup your breasts confirmed it.

Along with his noises and your own came the meeting of the back of your hips on the tops of his thighs. It was the only sound that ever made you understand the term music to my ears. You slammed harder, deeper, more pointed to draw even more of those notes out of his beautifully agape mouth.

His cock was a thing of wonder, the way it filled you up. So snug between your walls that you could feel the prominent vein running along its back as you worked him base to tip and back again. So intoxicating, your mind was stuck like glue on the feeling of how much of you he was coated in.

You folded forward, unsynchronized breaths mingling with his as you gave him a kiss that matched the same energy. A spell of confusion caused your compass to malfunction and made you lose your way. How was it even possible for him to feel this good?

Ruben was right there to guide you back as he so often had been before. His knees bent and his hands settled under your hips while his own raised into you. The vein in his neck swelled thick with rushing blood just like the one fucking into your pussy did with his seed.

Mine.

Yours.

The earth cracked and shattered and you quaked. His arms circled your waist tight, holding you as he weathered both of your storms. Everything around you crumbled and faded out of existence. For the next euphoric moments that followed, only you and him remained.

After a prolonged period of feeling the prick of his facial hair under your fingertips and his own running up and down your spine, he guided you to his shower. The water pressure offered a nice massage, but paled in effort to the relief his hands brought as they glided over your skin.

Ruben held the covers open for you to slip under, a call that would never go unanswered. You molded to him in a way that made you shudder. Your head rested in the crook of his arm that curled around your shoulders, a leg nestled snugly between his - not too spacious and not too compressed, just right.

You blinked slowly, lashes brushing his nearby skin. “Ruben?”

“Hm?” His chest rumbled.

“Promise me that even if this doesn’t last, things won’t end like they did before.”

He stopped breathing for a second and so did you. Back then, you probably would’ve said something like promise you won’t ever leave. You never thought to because you didn’t believe he ever would’ve.

Now, you realized the flaw in that sort of ask. If he said he wouldn’t and then he did, you couldn’t accuse him of lying. No one thought in the moments where they were deeply enamored with one another that they’d part, just as no one who got married for love would only do so to divorce.

Ruben inhaled again and tilted your face upwards, “I promise.”

Your eyes searched his for any trace of disingenuousness. When they were met with a steady, unblinking, challenging gaze, you were finally filled with ease. You kissed him gently and resumed your previous position.

“Besides,” He snuggled deeper into you. “If anything, you’re gonna have to get rid of me. I’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and-”

You pressed a finger to his lips. “I get it. Go to sleep.”

For the first time in ages, you must’ve clocked in more than five hours of uninterrupted rest.

When your eyes peeled open, they were met with a fully lit sky instead of darkness or the murky beginnings of a sunrise. Your back bowed and then froze in position. Instead of being met with warmth, all you felt were cool sheets.

Just when you thought you might’ve lost Ruben to training or something, you heard rattling coming from the kitchen. There was also the faint scent of espresso drifting from under the door. You slid on his discarded sweatshirt from the pile that moved to his armchair and ventured out.

“There’s my beautiful chainsaw.” Ruben smiled as you appeared.

You smacked his bare back to earn a hiss, “I do not snore.”

“Only when you’re exhausted, love.” He handed you a steaming cup. “Did you sleep well?”

Your hand extended, beckoning to him. Ruben bent to meet it and melted under your fingertips that drew him near. You kissed him appreciatively, not wanting a moment to go by where you didn’t show him how grateful you were that he looked after you with care.

“I did.” You took a sip of your coffee and moaned. “Now where’s my tour?”

He shook his head with a grin and whisked you away to the entrance. In true social media giant with millions of followers style, he walked you through his apartment bit by bit. There was the coat closet, riveting and the guest rooms, very spacious. Then his bedroom which you’d already gotten very familiar with, he added.

All that was really left was the main open living space. What you were really interested in was his shelf and the mantle with all of his pictures, medals and awards. He explained the occasion and meaning behind each of them. Premier Leagues, domestic cups, bests of the season. You ran your thumb over the one you knew held the most meaning.

“Champions League…” Though you were infinitely proud of his achievement, your heart was heavy.

Ruben had spoken so much about it from the time when you were kids. He always knew that he was going to become a footballer, and a great one at that. This title was one he longed for vocally on many days.

“When I lift the trophy again,” He hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek. “You’ll be there with me.”

You nodded, wanting that dream to become a reality more than anything else. Well, besides being with him when he won the World Cup. At least that would be a first you got to experience together.

He took you back to the kitchen where he’d already started on breakfast. The toast was ready and after frying some eggs and adding slices of avocado, you both dug in. Such a simple meal that never missed the spot.

“So, Erling’s party is tomorrow night.” Ruben shot you a look.

Of course, the whole team was on the invite list you’d spied over Cindy’s shoulder. You knew what he was getting at and you also knew that it had to be today when you sat Aki down to have that conversation.

“I’ll tell her when I get back.” You promised.

“You don’t have to be nervous. She loves you, no matter what.” He reassured. “Me on the other hand…”

That was going to be the interesting part for sure. You wished you had some words to dispel his fears, but you both knew that they didn’t really exist. Her dislike for him was palatable, nearly a match for your mother’s - which was another bridge you certainly weren’t remotely ready to cross.

“One step at a time.” Was the best you could come up with.

It seemed to be good enough for Ruben, who approved with a half smile.

Wrapping up breakfast and trying to leave to actually get your day started was the hardest thing you’d done in recent memory. All you wanted to do was stay in this perfect little bubble with him - his arms caging you in, lips peppering your face, his deep voice begging five more minutes.

On days like this in the past, you would’ve easily played hooky and called in sick. Alas, that was when you were working for someone you honestly hated. Now that you had your own company, there was no room for letting your work fall behind since it all rode on you.

Ruben gave you one final searing kiss that took up the last of his allotted five minutes before you got into your car. The way you were beaming on the drive back to your place was kind of mortifying once you’d snapped out of your butterfly induced haze.

Almost immediately, it was replaced with sweaty palms and a racing heart. And not in the infatuation sense. You gave yourself a pep talk in the elevator as you headed up, remembering Ruben’s words. He was right and so were you, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Still, you found yourself tiptoeing once the lift got to your floor. You’d adopted his stalling tactic of promising that in just a bit more time, you would head over to hers. Maybe you should tidy up the place beforehand and -

“Ahem.”

You wanted to scream, but instead became that the woman was too stunned to speak meme. Aki was sitting cross legged on your sofa. She’d clearly been there for some time based off the empty plate and drained glass on the coffee table. It was now or never.

“I’ve got to tell you something.” You made your way over to join her.

“Spill! You’ve been acting weird for a while now.” She griped. “Are you having doubts about the business? Is the shitty weather making you moody? Wait…are you seeing somebody?!”

“Yes!” The answer to her rambling barrage came out louder than intended.

Aki stared at you wide eyed and then began going on another spiel, this time of excitement. You reeled her in, literally, by taking both her hands in yours. A silent version of the affirmations you gave yourself earlier ran through your head as you took a breath.

“I am seeing someone, again. Ruben.” You finally admitted. “I know that sounds fucking insane, but let me explain.”

Seeing Aki take on a serious expression was something you’d only experienced a handful of times. Not many things made her completely shed the upbeat, fun-loving layers she wore, but it wasn’t surprising that your revelation was now one of them.

She listened as you started from the day you went to City’s training grounds and the car ride that followed. It wasn’t the most cheerful conversation to rehash, both your emotions and his in that moment still tugging viscerally on your heart. Your gaze dropped for a second, returning to hers when you felt her hands give yours a reassuring squeeze.

The rest tumbled out painlessly. You told her about him coming to the office when you worked late, how you and him realized that trying things again was worth a shot. And then, of course, your absence from your loft from this morning was cleared up.

All that was left out were the parts about the sex, especially the office couch incident. She probably would appreciate not having that visual, though you were sure her powers of deduction would do the work for you.

“Wow, that’s definitely not what I was expecting.” Aki chewed on her bottom lip.

You digested her response with a nod, your head bowing. It was more than a lot to take in, so you weren’t surprised that she wasn’t throwing a parade in congratulations for you reunion with Ruben.

She untangled her hands from yours only to pull you in for a hug. “I know it wasn’t an easy decision and I wish you didn’t feel like you had to make it alone.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” You failed to hide your sniffle.

“Don’t be, I understand.” Aki pulled back, wiping your cheeks. “I only care about two things: are you sure about this and are you happy?”

Something like the grin you wore on your drive returned, “Yeah.”

She groaned and hugged you again, pulling you down to rest on top of her. Aki wrapped her legs around you, shaking your body side to side like she used to when you would try out the moves you’d seen on WrestleMania. You reached up to give her a peck on the cheek and she screamed, pushing you off.

“I bet you still have his spit in your mouth! Ew!” She scrambled from the sofa.

You ran after her, making kissy faces. “I thought you wanted me to be getting pounded religiously!”

That was enough to chase her right out of the front door.

[carppediem]

I just came across this interview Käärijä gave for an Estonian magazine before the Tallinn gig and thought I'd share it with y'all! He talks about saving money to buy a house, why he quit drinking etc. Also, there are some new interesting things he said about Tommy 👀

Since the article is behind a paywall (and in Estonian) I've put a rough, heavily Google-assisted translation under the cut 👇

There are a few minutes left until the concert. How do you feel?

I feel great, but I'm a little tired because I didn't sleep well.

Did you have a party yesterday?

No party, I'm focused on the European tour. Yesterday was a live in Sweden, from there I flew to Finland at five o'clock in the morning and from there to here. But I'm one hundred percent ready for a show. It doesn't matter how tired I am, I give my best on stage.

You recently released the single 'It's Crazy, It's Party' with Tommy Cash. When Tommy met the members of the band Little Big, they drank a lot of vodka. What did you and Tommy drink?

Haha, I haven't had a drink with Tommy yet.

Not even a Pina Colada?

No. Maybe someday Tommy and I will have a drink, although I don't think he drinks much. And you know, I don't drink anymore either. I stopped drinking a month ago. I need to keep my energy up. When you give as many concerts as I do now, you have to take care of yourself. Drinking and performing hand in hand is extremely difficult both physically and mentally, not to mention how bad it affects the vocal cords. I had the biggest hangover of my life this summer, which put the brakes on my drinking. I went to a music festival with a friend where we drank too much. The next day I had to perform at the same festival. The hangover was so bad that I really didn't know how to get myself on stage with the terrible feeling and the summer heat. But I pulled myself together and did the show. This experience is also one of the reasons why I don't drink anymore.

What kind of person is Tommy?

He is a visionary and very witty - a lot of fun with him. And of course he's cute. I think we have something in common, like we both have our own style. Tommy surprises with crazy outfits: extraordinary hairstyles, extravagant clothing, which are complemented by boleros. In short, insane costumes.

After Eurovision, you started a real concert rally - you gave 51 concerts in the summer alone. Do you want to become a millionaire?

Of course I do! One day I will definitely be a millionaire. I don't keep track of how much money I have in the bank and how much I'm short of six figures. But yes, I'm trying to collect a million euros.

Will the goal be met this year?

No, not yet. It will still take a few years. I've had an insane amount of performances after Eurovision, because I was like a kid in a candy store who wants everything at once, but by now I've drawn the line because I can't perform everywhere. I also set myself a price tag, below which I will not allow myself to go anywhere. If you do 300 shows a year, you're screwed.

What do you spend your money on?

I don't just spend it on pretty things. I have a definite goal in mind - I want to buy a house in Finland. Maybe in the future also real estate in Thailand, we'll see. I don't need a Rolex or any luxury, I don't care about that.

What has been the most difficult thing for you since Eurovision?

Everyone in Finland now knows who I am. It's hard and tiring because I no longer have my own private space at all. I can't just go to the store, to a concert, or to a hockey game, people will immediately come up to me and start taking pictures. I hate when they don't politely ask for permission to do this, but immediately start clicking.

What has been the best?

It's great to see people hear 'Cha Cha Cha' and be happy. Or when they hear the name Käärijä and their face breaks into laughter - it's a powerful feeling. And of course to see how happy my family is about this achievement. And me too!

[heartthrobin]

round and round the garden (1)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, limited use of y/n, timeline is foggy but we’re working with s8 sam lookwise, reader is a creature, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), reader is uber tooth-rottingly sweet, highkey dumbification of sam winchester, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, destiel is canon, animals, canon warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: literally just wanted to write something fantastical and cutesy so here it is !!! this is part 1 of (probably) 4 :))) let me know if you want to be added to taglist <33 love y’all

summary: the case was bizarre, but no aspect more so than the “witch” at the end of town with the prettiest goddamn face Sam had ever seen and the long pink scar up her arm that matched his own.

part two part three part four

The house wasn't big.

If Sam could really call it a house.

It was more like a cottage, reminding him of children's illustrated stories he never had the childhood to read. Of picnics and fireplaces.

The cottage dazzled like a water colour painting: green shrubbery seeping into every corner of the canvas, with lush pink and orange and yellow fruit speckled across the page.

Creeping around it, wrapping it's branches over the house like an arboreal hug: was the largest tree Sam had ever laid eyes on. The trunk was almost as wide as the street they were parked on and it's leaves draped low over the windows peeking from inside. It stood like a monolith against the backdrop of the forest leering behind it.

The line of trees were inched back just enough to almost convince Sam that this tree, the one engulfing your cottage, made them nervous.

A stone footpath lead to the door.

"I-- looked away for just one minute ..." the woman was inconsolable.

Jenny Perez sobbed into the arm of her couch. Her sister leered in the doorway.

Sam and Dean watched her from the couch over.

"Ma'am," Sam stepped carefully. "We know this isn't easy, but are you sure you didn't see anything in the moments leading up to Manny's disappearance? Even anything ... strange?"

Washington State. Five kids. Two months. Missing.

Each snatched out their gardens where they played.

Sam and Dean had been in Illinois on the tail end of a wendigo hunt when the news of a sixth missing kid blew far enough across the country to land a tiny column on the front page of the Chicago Tribune.

Manny Perez (7) was taken from the backyard of his home this past Sunday night in Fernglade, Washington.

His mother, Jenny Perez (38), said she heard rustling in the bushes behind their house and her son laughing before going to take some food out of the oven. When she returned, her son had disappeared.

Sure it was a terrible story, but regardless, it didn’t arouse enough suspicion out of either Winchester to make it their problem. To convince them it was anything more than a 53-year old psychopath holding children in his basement.

Not until Dean found the entry. The one in John’s journal.

He’d been looking for a passage he swore was in there on wendigo hunting seasons when the ruggedly clipped article fell from between it’s pages.

“Sammy …” he’d flashed him the clip, “look familiar?”

Several articles actually: eight kids missing from the little town of Fernglade. Every Autumn, every twenty years out of some poor mother’s backyard. John had only scribbled one lonely note amongst all the newspaper staining: THE TREES

“No! It’s like I told the police … I just heard him laughing.” Her voice came out as broken shards between the heaving and the hands clutched close against her chest. “I thought I heard another child’s voice, but that was—”

“Jenny, enough.” Sandra Perez piped up from the doorway, clearly enflamed. She turned from her sister to face the brothers on the couch. “What my sister is refusing to consider, and what the rest of us know to be true, is that Manny was taken by that witch.”

“Hermana … she isn’t a witch—”

“A witch?” Dean’s calibre had twisted to intrigued.

“She lives on the edge of town. By the forestline.” Sandra’s arms were crossed tightly. “Jenny always used to let Manny go afternoons out there, God knows why—”

“A lot of the neighbourhood kids did too.” Jenny interrupted, desperate in her approach: hands outdrawn. “She’s not a … a witch. She’s a bit strange but the kids loved her and she was kind to them—”

“And now look. All those children are gone, Jenny.”

The woman deflated back into the couch again, her tear-soaked sleeves came up to find purchase against her cheeks again. They muffled a sob.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Dean shrugged with a look that said “maybe?”

Dean turned to the sister, “What has you convinced that this woman is a witch?”

Sanda Perez looked affronted by the question. Like Dean had slapped her clean across the face.

“Oh! Well she’s … there’s always things burning at that house and people have said they’ve heard … like, chanting at night over there.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, grasping at the straws of gossip that had dripped down to her willing ears. “And her house is strange and she’s always in the forest at night when it’s unsafe. Who knows what … what rituals she’s doing out there!”

The brothers nodded. “Sure. Would you mind giving us that address?”

Now that Sam was faced with the house, getting his first view through the grimy passenger side window, he’d stray from the description of “strange”. He might have agreed that “enchanted” or “mystical” fit the description of the cottage better if he didn’t resent the magic clichés.

Dean’s finger pressed into the open journal page, tapping along the stained ink of John’s nearly illegible handwriting. THE TREES.

“Now that’s a tree if I’ve ever laid eyes on one.” He leaned over so his eyes could find the top of the tree from under the cover of the car.

Sam nodded. Something felt off when he watched the house, his stomach was twisting up past his other organs in his throat.

“I don’t know man …” his finger reached up to tug at the collar choking him at the neck. Maybe the fed suit wasn’t helping. “Something feels weird about this place.”

Dean scoffed loudly. He picked up the takeaway cup from the centre console, coffee long cold, and slugged the last of it down in one long sip. He surfaced again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Every place we go to is weird.” It was clear he didn’t share the sentiment. “I’m sure we’ve faced worse.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Well, come on. Let’s go meet this witch.”

Despite Sandra Perez’ less than convincing account of the “witch” at the end of town, it was still worth a visit to know who the townsfolk had decided was guilty in the matter of several counts of child kidnapping. How evil and vile of a person they must be.  

The air was crisp outside the car and the further they ventured up the path, the more delightful the aroma became. There was a thin string of smoke curling from behind the house, it carried a warm woody scent and the tussles of flowers lining the bannister of the porch was making Sam’s head spin happily. He managed a small smile.

“Nice garden.” He whispered offhand.

Dean seemed unconvinced, eyes flashing over the shrubbery with skepticism. “Yeah, well don’t get too close to anything. And don’t touch anything either.”

The door was tall, intimidating and clearly made of some fancy wood. It was slot between the white brick on the face of the house. The feeling from the car had only tripled on the walk up and Sam had his hand against his stomach. He could feel his blood rushing past his ears.

“Dean, I’m really not sure about—”

Dean’s fist connected with the door three times. Curt and professional, like a fed’s would be.  

There was an obvious shuffle behind the door, by then each beat of Sam’s heart was like a foghorn against his vibrating ribs and for a moment he was sure he was going to be sick.

Suddenly, there was sniffle by the foot of the door. A dog? And a voice, caressed gently by a giggle, ushering the animal away.

Sam’s brain was swelling too large for his head, the doorknob creaked from inside – his fists grew ice cold – with a soft grunt, the door was pulled ajar …

It stopped.

With a smile that knocked the wind clean out of Sam’s lungs, you greeted. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

Warmth flooded back in to his palms and the thumping of his head cooled to a dizzy buzz. The nausea subsided to a hot bubbling.

Your frame took up the doorway. It seemed to fizzle around the edges, glimmering like light off a rippling pond.

Sam’s eyes slipped down your body like warm coffee down his throat. Your face was gentle, eyes round and wet beneath a set of suffocatingly black eyelashes. Wide-set thighs rippled all the way down to soft calves and pink painted toenails.

A cream crochet top reached over the expanse of your shoulders, sloping down where the rugged sleeve edges hung off your palms, a sparkling green skirt flirted at the top of your thighs. It’s silk ruffles shivered with your every breath.

If he was momentarily able to lift his eyes from you, which he most definitely was not, maybe he'd notice how Dean didn't seem even moderately as amazed as he was. That might have been the first sign if he did.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I'm agent Alice. This is my partner agent Cooper." Dean dug out the FBI identification from his jacket pocket, flashing it casually. "We just have a few questions regarding some recent--"

"Oh please," you waved your hand airily, "No need for the semantics. I've been expecting you, lunch is out in the garden."

The sound of your voice was sending waves of warmth through his stomach. Like he was sipping hot cocoa at your every syllable.

The ID in Dean's hand wobbled, his face clenched in confusion. "I-- sorry, what?"

In the shift of Sam’s gaze back up your form, he came to find your eyes set on his.

You smiled again. His tongue felt heavy and half-formed words gurgled at the back of his throat: begging to be spat out.

“I-I’m–“

“I know who you are.”

Your eyes flickered back to Dean and Sam felt hollow at the loss of their warmth.

“Not every day you have the Winchesters at your door, now is it.” You finished, stepping aside to allow them in.

“You know who we are?” Dean’s cadence dropped warily, clearly spearheading the conversation where Sam was finding difficulty. But your figure was already disappearing into the darkness of the house.

Despite his sceptic tone, Dean stepped in quickly after you. Sam trailed behind.

The cottage was warm. At least that was Sam’s first thought.

It was quickly ribbed out the way by the sheer visual of the interior.

There wasn’t a single blank wall or spot on the floor uncovered by carpetry.

Rows of paintings and stacks of photographs lined the space between wooden countertops and cherry red couches. Persian rugs and indoor plants spilled from a technicolour mirage of pots.

Desks were cluttered with books, paint supplies abandoned still wet. A dusty chandelier.

But more striking than the portraits and the vinyls and the rugs and the botany textbooks, were the creatures.

“Just watch for Goose,” she waved vaguely at a moving creature that was quickly nearing Sam’s feet, avoiding Dean’s question. “He won’t bite but he will try lick you—”

For a moment, Sam connected that this had to be the dog at the door. But the dog, Goose, was hardly a dog at all. Only once he was licking a stripe up the strip of bare skin at Sam’s ankle did he realize that … it can’t … that’s a fox.

And that wasn’t the start nor the end of it.

Draped over the couch was the largest snake Sam had ever seen. It was curled into the red frilled cushion, fast asleep. On the countertop, two ferrets were dipping in and out of sight behind the fruit basket. A gecko bathing in a sunspot on top of a stack of books. A flock of white budgies perched between the crystals on the chandelier. Three pairs of brown twitching rabbit ears peeking out from a basket of laundry.

It seemed Dean had also taken stark notice of the menagerie that was the cottage, so distracted that he’d forgone mentioning that his question had gone unanswered.

His finger pointed weakly at down at the white boa on the couch. “That’s … that’s a snake.”

You laughed again and Sam was sure he could get drunk off the sound.

“Nothing gets past you boys, hey?”

You kept walking, motioning for them to follow through another arched door out into the garden behind the house.

“Her name is Lydia. She’ll come join us when she’s awake.”

“I sure as hell hope not …” But it was muttered and Sam gave Dean a stern look for his comment. You didn’t turn back.

The garden behind the house was impossibly even more beautiful than infront. Vines creeped up the outer walls, a lemon tree grew along the underside the of the bigger tree engulfing the house. Shrubs and bushes and stark purple flowers. Your whole patch of land seemed untouched by the fingertips of Autumn that was reaching over the rest of town.

In the middle of it all: sat a small white painted table. You’d lined it with sheer cloth and platters of pastries, sandwiches and cakes.

There were three chairs around it.

“Sit, sit, sit.” You were wringing your hands, a light waft of nervousness fluttering off you. “I didn’t know what exactly you hunters eat or don’t eat … so there’s a little bit of everything–“

“Oh, hell yes.” Dean’s initial skepticism seemed to dissolve at the prospect of food and his ass was in the chair before you had chance to say anything else.

You seemed pleased. 

Sam’s face flushed red. He remembered that he still has yet to say a full sentence in your presence.

“Uh,” you turned to the sound of his voice. “T-Thank you.”

The speckles of light through the canopy of the trees drifted over your face. Sam had never noticed that on a person before.

He’d also never paid much mind to people’s hair. Not before yours. It looked like something ripped off the cover of a fashion magazine from the 70’s.

“You’re so very welcome.” Your voice was kind. “It’s more of an indulgence. I haven’t had guests in a while, not since …”

It faded off. “Well, not for a while.”

Jewels jingled around your neck, crystals wrapped in black string: dipping low down between the swell of your breasts that was just visible above the hemline—

Sam quickly swung his gaze back to the table where Dean was scarfing down an icing covered puff pastry.  

His brother was making wildly animalistic groans over the taste. For a moment, it was the only noise filling the space against the shiver of the trees in the midday gust.

Sam didn’t know where to find his tongue. He couldn’t get himself to step away from you.

“Coffee or tea, boys? I have it inside warming on the stove.”

“Coffee.” Dean responded blurrily around a mouthful. You turned to Sam again.

“I—just, I’m—coffee is good.”

You nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

He watched your figure retreat towards the house. The nausea was bubbling back into view.

“This is some fucking good cake.”

When your frame had disappeared back into the house, Sam turned back to his brother who was cleaning remnants of a second pastry off his plate with a tiny fork.

He quickly neared him, pulling out the chair across from him hastily.

“Dean, have you even considered the possibility that this food is poisened?”

Dean’s face twisted to a grimace, but only for a fraction of a moment before shrugging. “Hey. Worse ways to go.”

But Sam was shaking his head. The dizziness had returned.

“Do you feel sick? I’ve been feeling like … like off since we first step foot on this property.”

Dean watched him with hooded eyes, gaze flickering between his brother and the sliced ham and cucumber sandwich resting at the top of a nearby plate.

“Is that your explanation for the fool you’ve been acting since we walked in the door?”

Looking up from wiping sweaty palms down his trousers, Sam stalled. “W-What?”

“Exactly.” Dean gave in, reaching for the sandwich. “You haven’t been able to string three fucking words together since we got here.”

“I—she’s a witch, Dean.” Sam pressed. “I think she put like a … a spell o-or a hex on me!”

“She couldn’t have done that in the five minutes we’ve been here.”

“She knows who we are, she could’ve hexed our motel room.”

“Looks to me like someone has a crush—"

But Sam’s face was earnest. And maybe turning a little cherry red at the accusation. “Dean.”

Dean huffed. “Fine, fine, we’ll interrogate her and see what she says. If she’s a witch, we just gank her. Problem solved.”

“But—”

The sound of footsteps were reapproaching. The brothers fell quiet.

“Here we go.” Ringed fingers clinked against the side of an ornate red pot where you leaned over Sam’s shoulder. Steaming black liquid slipped into the teacup resting against it’s matching saucer in front of him.

His breath caught in his throat.

“You like the sandwiches?” You aimed at Dean.

He nodded, “Yeah, great stuff.”

You rounded the table and Sam worked hard not to make eye contact with the expanse of thigh peeking up at him as you moved.

“I have to admit, I really wish you’d brought along your angel.” You poured into Dean’s cup.

His head flickered up at the comment. “Cas?”

“I’m a big fan of his.” Your voice buzzed with eagerness, “The whole rebellion against heaven thing. I thought it was really cool.”

To label Cas "his angel" was a fair assessment. The matching fleshy red handprint on each of their chests had confirmed it a long time ago.

Dean nodded slowly. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message.”

You smiled and it made Sam’s stomach contents bubble again. He was starting to worry that maybe you really had cursed him.

The chair grumbled against the grass where you pulled it out. “Right, so I’m assuming you guys are here to question me? Kill me maybe?”

Awkward silence fell. Dean and Sam exchanged glances.

“Uh—”

“Well—”

Between another bout of laughter, you poured your own cup. “Don’t worry. You’re not the first, probably not the last.”

Dean took a long enough break from scarfing food down his gullet to look up at you. “Yes. To question you, for now.”

You nodded. Eyes finding Sam.

“What about you, Bigfoot? Here to kill me?”

Sam reached deep to find his voice again. “Uhm, just a few questions.”

Smiling, you sat further back in your chair. “Great. Go right ahead then.”

“How do you know who we are?” Dean leapt right in, repeating what had been previously left unanswered.

“Someone like me’s gotta know when hunters are moving in and out of town, don’t you think?”

“Someone like you?”

“Yep.” You nodded, seemingly unwilling to offer more than what was being asked.

Sam leaned forward. “So you are a witch then.”

You chuckled under your breath, leaning forward to stir your coffee as if he hadn’t tossed an accusation in your lap. “I see you’ve been speaking to people around town.”

Nobody answered.

So you filled the space again.

“No, I’m not a witch. Slimy bunch them, but then again, I guess you’re not too far off.”

“So what then?” Dean’s voice held that rough edge that dripped through when he was growing annoyed.

Grinning, you shrugged.

A chime, like a ringing sleigh bell, filled the space. Sam’s eyes were drawn just past your shoulders where a tall pair of opal pearlescent wings had appeared behind your head.

“No fucking way.”

Sam choked around nothing. There was a long pause, interjected with a long stare between the brothers across your table.

“Fairies don’t … they don’t exist.”

You reached for a sip of your coffee, looking unperterbed. “Dryad, actually. Give it a google.”

The wings shivered against the movement.

"So what," Dean's glare was heated over the set table, "Evil fairy godmother is that it? What did you do with the kids, eat them?"

For the first time since he'd lain eyes on you, Sam could make out a shine of something unkind crossed your features.

You set the teacup down slowly and your eyes met Dean's with the same heat of the sun glaring down into the garden: "I had nothing to do with those children going missing. I loved them."

Sam wanted to interject, but his chest was tight ... a straining grip of guilt was tightening his throat. She's cursed me, she's cursed me, she's cursed me--

"A couple of the parents said their kids used to come visit around here. Visit the witch at the end of town. That true?"

Gathering a breath and another sip from your cup, your face distorted from indignant to disconsolate. Sam could feel the tightness in his chest ebbing.

You nodded.

"Yes. That's true." From behind your seat, accurate to your predictions, the wide white outline of a snake-- of Lydia-- was creeping through the grass.

Dean's eyes fixated on her approach, all way up until she bound the foot of your chair up into your chest. She rested her head there like a lap dog. You stroked a hand over her head like one too.

"They used to come visit," you continued, "after school some days. I'd make them tea and cupcakes, and they'd come to visit my animals. I taught them about the trees."

A fond look had crawled onto your features. There was another tinkle of bells and the wings behind you disappeared.

"Now nobody comes. Parents are scared. They think I'm ... hiding their children in my basement or something."

Dean surveyed you for a few moments, seemingly deciding you were of little enough danger to dare another piece of white chocolate cake.

"Yeah, you can spare us the pity party sister." He muttered around his fork.

Sam sent him a short lived look. "Well, then if it's not you--"

"We haven't yet decided that it's not you, just by the way."

"--then what is it? Surely you have some idea?"

Lydia was curling up around the back of your neck now. Your eyes found Sam's - he momentarily felt like he was melting - and you sighed softly.

"I've heard some things, nothing definitive." Your hand stroked over the section of the snake still draped in your lap. "It's coming from the forest."

"And you heard this where?" Dean's tone dripped with skepticism.

"The trees told me."

Where Sam was sure would normally be laughter echoing from his older brother, instead, his hand stilled over his plate.

THE TREES.

His eyes flickered to Sam. It was quiet. Dad's journal.

"You can speak to trees?" Sam question was clement.

You seemed refreshed by it, watching him for a moment before nodding. "Part of the gig."

Another silence fell. You sighed. Sam could smell Dean's thoughts from across the table.

"Let me get this straight." Dean cleared his throat, leaning forward in his chair. "You're the garden fairy and you're telling us that the trees have something to do with this? Not really working your best angle here, if you ask me."

The garden rustled again. A white duck emerged from one of the bushes followed by a string of ducklings. You shrugged tiredly.

"I'm trying to help." Your voice was soft. Melancholic.

Your hand reached for a strawberry sitting on a tower of others just past Sam's cup, crocheted sleeve slipping back to your elbow to reveal the scores of golden, beaded jangling bracelets and--

Sam's blood ran all the way icy, turning to a slurry in his veins.

"Care to explain that?" Dean's voice came passing over him as if said from the end of a very long corridor.

Twisting your wrist to look, you shook your head. You grabbed the strawberry and brought it to your lips with the other hand.

"Oh, this?" A jagged scar peaked from the edge of your elbow up into the palm of your hand. It shone pink with marred tissue. "You think I got this from kidnapping children?"

Sam's heartbeat was ringing in his ears, he gripped the edge of his seat with whitened knuckles. His eyes chased up to the side of your face, finding the little spot by your eyebrow where ... the end was split with the mark of the edge of a blade in a fight gone wrong.

"Not mine unfortunately." You continued, dissolving the strawberry to pieces between your lips. "My other half's. I swear they're a bull-fighter or a boxer the way they bang me up."

Somewhere a bird chirped. There was a turbo washing machine in Sam's stomach on full blast and he thought he was about to be sick. At the same time, he was washed over by a feeling of inexplicable warmth. Like a cooled stream of bubbling champagne down his gullet. Like how they always said it might feel. Only now he could put a feeling to the talk.

"Listen, if we find out you've got something to do--"

"D-Dean," Sam's voice tripped over pebbles, "We should go."

The hands now released from the edges of his seat were shaking and his palms were scorching.

Dean looked at him, confusion tugging on his hardened face. Sam thought he might argue, but he nodded slowly. Maybe he noticed his brother's red, sweating face. Again, maybe he was just bored.

"Uh, yeah." He started to push the chair out, but his eyes drifted on a ham and cheese sandwich lingering on his plate. He hesitated.

You jumped up quickly, wrapping Lydia like a scarf, all in the same motion. "I've got a box you can take some food, if you'd like? I could just run inside--?"

"That would be great--"

"No, that's really not necessary--"

Your eyes drifted to Sam, waving him off with a smile that buckled his knees now that he was standing. "Don't be ridiculous. Let me go grab them."

Figure disappearing into the house again, Dean surveyed his brother. "What's up with you?"

Sam didn't answer. In fact he didn't say anything at all until you'd returned, Dean had stuffed as many sandwiches and pieces of cake he could fit into the tupperware and you packed Sam a box against his will.

Not as soon as he would have liked, they were standing at the door again out on the porch front.

"We'll be back, probably." Dean quipped officially, but he lifted the box of food all the same. "Oh, and uh ... thanks."

You were smiling again. "Sure. You know where to find me."

Not for the first time that morning, Sam was struggling to peel his gaze off your face. Your eyes were a swirling mess of colour and the light was flickering off of them at him.

"I'll see you around, Bigfoot."

Your shoulder peeked at him from under your top, a deep red welt matching his own left collarbone.

He nodded curtly, turning back down the path even before his brother. His collar was sticky against his neck and his brain was firing off signals the whole walk down, it begged him to turn back.

Dean jogged to catch up.

"What the hell is going--"

Sam slammed the door on him, crashing into the passenger's seat. He began ripping off his suit, the black jacket flung mindlessly into the back of the Impala.

By the time Dean fell into the driver's seat he was already fighting against the button securing the shirt to his right wrist.

"You have been acting all sorts of crazy since we got here, Sammy. What the hell is--"

Sam pried back the sleeve: bunching it at his elbow. He stuck his arm out to his brother.

Dean glanced between his face and his arm only once before pausing. The long jagged scar from his palm up his arm was impossible to miss. The one that sat identical on your arm.

"Oh."

Sam was sucking in deep breaths through his nose.

Dean's eyebrows rose into his hairline. He let off a disbelieving laugh.

"Well, I'll be damned."

-

taglist:

@firstsnowdrop @writerofthewinds @aria1245 @nyx22-blogs @lucysaloser @britishscum @pookiesnatcher @music-keep-me-sane @cryptid-with-a-cane @sammys-concubine @i-live-for-fantasy @grimbunnie @crystalreedwifey

[folkloresthings]

Okay, I know I said the last one was the last one, but I just keep having ideas and you write so much better than I do, I’m sorry (😭).

That said, can I pretty please ask for a NORTHANGER ABBEY with Fernando Alonso and the sunshine x sunshine protector trope? Like his S/O is super sweet and cheery and he wants to keep them from getting hurt? I just feel like that would be so cute!

Thanks in advance, my love, and I hope you’re doing well!! ✨🧚‍♂️💗

thank you darling dolly 💌

WHATEVER IT TAKES. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

✩⡱ warnings: implied age gap bc duh it’s a nando fic

after twenty—two years in formula one, a driver learns how dangerous it can be. not the cars, not the crashes or the risking your life every time you break a little too late. no, it was much more dangerous off of the track, in front of the prying eyes and camera lenses: the lion’s den.

fernando knew well how he was to blame for this cloud of prejudice that followed him around. he’d quickly made a name for himself as a womaniser in the sport, a different girl at every race and a new one at night. that kind of reputation stuck, even at forty—two years old.

you were different. fernando knew, from the very moment he laid eyes on you, he wouldn’t be capable of treating you like a temporary plaything. you were a breath of fresh air, younger than him and oh so optimistic. he was getting old, losing out hope on ever having more than his racing career, and you had come along, bringing a whole new life with you.

hell, you’d even made his time at alpine fun.

he knew everyone on the grid would love you before they even met you, and his suspicions were correct. you were sweet, tooth—rottingly so, and every single person you came across couldn’t help but love you. nearly as much as he did.

the media, however, was not every person. no matter your heavenly goodness, the press would find any reason to belittle you. fernando alonso’s next playgirl, this month’s challenge, formula one gold digger. from the second things got serious, fernando swore on everything that he was to protect you from all of that mess.

it worked, for a while, dodging cameras and hiding nasty articles from you. the little bubble he’d created around your relationship was perfect. he could love you with his whole heart and not worry about anything ruining it. because, god, he couldn’t let anything ruin this — not the one good thing he had.

it was a few days after you’d arrived in barcelona for the race weekend. in fernando’s favourite little summer dress of yours, you skipped along to the track for the first free practice of the week. standing off to the sidelines, sharing a coffee with alexandra, everything was perfect. the sun, the cars, the feeling that everything was falling into place.

“y/n! y/n, can we get a picture!”

“y/n, any comment on fernando’s romantic past?!”

“what do you think about being labelled as the grid slut, y/n!”

the reporters had swarmed you in seconds, coming out of nowhere. tabloids, you presumed, god knows how they got press passes. alex reached for your arm, pulling you back from the mic shoved in your face. she’d gone through the exact same thing mere months ago.

“get away from them, right now!”

that familiar voice, though hollering, relaxed you immediately. fernando had shoved his way through the mob, standing guard in front of you. his hand reached back to grasp at your arm, securing you close to his side, his shoulders heaving with anger.

“any of you bastards speak to her like that again, and i’ll make sure you don’t have a career left in the morning,” he seethes, sending the reporters backing off in seconds. he takes your hand, charles taking alex’s, pulling you both to the safety of the garages. fernando doesn’t slow down until he reaches the aston martin motorhome, face red with anger.

“are you okay?” he asks, taking your cheeks in his palms, eyes desperately raking across your features for any sign that you might be hurt or upset. in truth, you were just shocked. the whole interaction had sprung up out of nowhere, and it had happened in a flash before your eyes, back in the garage before you knew it.

“i don’t— what they were saying…” you mutter, brows furrowed. the words play over and over again like a broken record. slut. the tears that stung at your eyes were hot, willed away with everything that you had.

“don’t listen to them, please,” fernando softens, chest aching at the sight of you welling up. “i… i tried so hard to protect you from this, mi amor. i should have been there.”

you shake your head, nestling your face in the material of his race suit. fernando’s arms wind around your shoulders, squeezing you as close as he can without fear of breaking you. he’d curse himself forever for not being there to stop the reporters, but he would hold you while he could.

“i’m sorry, corazón. you deserve better than all of this,” your doting boyfriend murmurs against the crown of your head, lips moving on soft hair. you shift to look up at him, that familiar light that dances behind pupils making him keel with adoration.

“all that talk is only temporary,” you mutter, stretching up on the tips of your toes to reach his lips. soft and lingering kisses, his hands holding your hips close by. “this, us, is what matters.”

fernando smiles, so deeply you can feel it in your stomach. “i love you, so very much. i’m not going to let anything ruin this.”

he tangles you up in another kiss, pouring every ounce of love he has for you into one searing show of affection. a clear promise: to protect you every day of his life, no matter what it took.

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You decide to go back to that creepy house and things don’t really go as planned

Warnings: Mention of missing person, creepy stuff, mention of blood, lady with an axe and I think that’s all? -> 18+ !!

Other: English isn’t my fist language so I apologize in advance for any mistake

-> Masterlist

-> Part four ; Part six

-> Ugly truth (05)

The living room of the temporary house you were sharing with Bucky was filled with the scent of burgers and fries, the television was on but the volume was down. You sat on the edge of the couch, absently picking at your food as your mind inevitably drifted back to your argument with Bucky just last night. He didn’t even spare a glance in your direction after you stormed out of the room, not that you made any effort to talk to him.

Across from you and Bucky, Sam and Dean lounged in their armchairs, their exhaustion evident in the bags under their eyes. As if they didn’t sleep at all, much like you. There was nothing but silence as you ate the last meal of the day, tired after a day of working on the case just to get nothing. No lead, no idea on where this Adam lived since he was the only hope to know more about Cassandra’s whereabouts before she disappeared.

You, along with the rest of this weird team, had gone to the hospital where Cassandra worked at and asked questions to her colleagues that were as useless as a fish out of the water. Apparently this Cassandra was not keen to have social relationships outside her family, you had learnt.

Family that consisted in her stepmother and biological father. Mrs Miller was… well, you had already met her. Her father, on the other hand, was not in the picture apparently. No one knew shit about that poor woman’s private life and the only resource you had left was Adam - and you hadn’t found where he lived yet.

You and Dean, in all of this, hadn’t had that talk yet. About why he didn’t tell Bucky the truth on what you two had seen at Mrs Miller’s house and, most importantly, why he didn’t seem fazed about it. You never told anyone about the kind of experiments they did in the Hydra base you were raised at, not even Fury. You couldn’t, and for a long time you tried to forget what you had seen with your own eyes.

After you were rescued you figured they’d eventually find out the monsters that were created in there, but you never heard anyone talk about it so you kept your mouth shut. They had told you they rescued every child, teenage and adult Hydra kidnapped and that’s what mattered the most to you. Those things were creatures to forget, but you saw one again. And not in your old Hydra facility. No.

You saw it through the window of Mrs Miller’s house, and a small part of you suspected that Cassandra wasn’t fully dead. You were starting to think she had turned into one of those things and that only meant Hydra was nearer than you thought, but Mrs Miller was nowhere near being the person behind this and she was too far gone mentally to give you a clue about who this person could be.

And you came to the conclusion you wanted to find out yourself. Alone.

You decided you wouldn’t tell Bucky, nor Sam or Dean. You suspected that the brothers knew something already and that meant they purposely kept things from you and Bucky, maybe even Fury. Or maybe Fury himself was involved but then again, why wouldn’t he tell you? You were confused, angry and tired of this whole situation.

“Did you find something?” Dean asked with his mouth full of fries to his brother who was giving him a disgusted look. “What? We’re all friends now, no need for manners.” He shrugged.

“If you ever had any.” Sam mumbled under his breath, before turning the laptop to the general direction where both you and Bucky - and also Dean - could see. “This is a local article about Cassandra’s father, Michael Sawyer. It says he was a successful scientist until he disappeared in 1996 when the outcome of his infidelity was left on his doorstep. Cassandra’s biological mother was never found, not even to this day. Mrs Miller kicked him out and took the child in, raising Cassandra as her own.”

“He suddenly came back in town in 2013, the news spread all over the State. Mrs Miller took him back almost immediately, people believe because she was having financial problems raising her then 17 years old daughter, and he has been nothing but a lovely father and husband ever since.” Sam finished, looking at each of you in the room.

“Where is he now?” Bucky asked, taking a sip from the bottle of beer in his hand - the only thing he touched the whole night, since the burger was still perfectly wrapped.

“No idea.” Sam turned the laptop screen in his direction once again, typing something down. “No news from him ever since Cassandra disappeared. Do you think he could be involved?”

“Could be.” Dean shrugged. “It definitely sounds suspicious.”

“He came back when my facility fell, in 2013.” You informed them. “But that could be a coincidence, I believe the only one that can know something about that family is Adam, since he was her boyfriend. Did you find anything about him?” You asked.

“No.” Sam sighed. “I might do a few calls though, see if a friend of mine can track him down.”

“If you’re still hoping for Cas to answer you’re an idiot, Sam.” Dean grunted, glaring at his brother.

“Who’s Cas?” Bucky inquired, looking between the two of them. “This case is ours. We can’t spill details to friends, that’s the first thing they teach at SHIELD.”

“We know, my brother was just being dumb.” Dean got up from his armchair, putting on his usual green leather jacket. “Let’s go, it’s late and we need rest.” Dean seemed quite dismissive, as he took his brother by the jacked and forced him to get up.

Bucky watched as Dean practically dragged Sam to his feet, a frown made it’s way to his face at the fastness of their departure. Bucky’s gaze flickered to yours for a moment and you shrugged at him, just as puzzled at the brothers’s behavior as he was.

As the door closed behind the two, Bucky turned his his head towards you once again, a furrow forming between his brows. “I think we should do a background check on them. There’s something they’re hiding.”

“You always seem to think people are hiding something and can’t be trusted. We don’t have time for that.” You retorted, your tone full of irritation. “We have a case to solve, James, we can’t worry about those two. Fury says they’re good, so they’re good.” You said. Even if you did agree with him, you also were sure - for some reason - that they weren’t a threat.

His jaw tightened at your words, but he didn’t back down. “I’m just saying we should be cautious.” He insisted.

“And I’m saying we have more important things to worry about.” You said.

With that, you rose from the couch to clear the coffee table where the four of you had dinner on, and you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you. Your heard him sigh before he left the room and went into the kitchen, only to come back with an empty trash bag and start helping you out.

“Can we talk for a moment? About the other night?” He asked after a while, breaking the silence as you both finished cleaning the mess that mainly those two had left behind.

“I’m not in the mood for talking.” You mumbled, turning off the lights of the kitchen. “I’m going to bed, actually, so have a good night.”

“Emma-”

You walked past him upstairs, locking your bedroom door behind you; you had something to do that night, so you pushed aside the slight, almost invisible guilt you felt for not listening to whatever Bucky had to say. Making your way to the bedside table, your reached for the drawer where you kept your gun - you could never know.

You tucked the gun into your holster and sat on your bed, it was still too early. You could hear Bucky downstairs doing God knows what, and you knew that given his enchanted hearing due to the Super Soldier serum he would hear you if you sneaked out when he was awake.

You waited patiently until the house fell quiet, and you made your way to the window. Sliding it open, making sure not to make any sound, you jumped - thankfully you had some kind of super strength yourself, so when your legs hit the ground you didn’t even flinch.

You looked around you to make sure no one saw you, after all you were still Bucky’s wife for the whole neighborhood as a cover and sneaking out in the middle of the night would look suspicious. You passed in front of Dean’s and Sam’s house, noticing the Impala wasn’t there - weird. So much for being tired and wanting some rest, as they said.

It didn’t take you long to arrive to the Miller’s house, but you had to admit that perhaps you walked slower that you normally would. You did want answers, but you also knew that they would only be a confirmation of what you suspected.

With careful precision, you scanned the perimeter of Mrs Miller’s house, hoping to find a way in without having to break anything mainly to avoid someone hearing. Someone, being that thing that Mrs Miller kept locked in a room. Thankfully you saw that a window of the ground floor was left slightly open, so you didn’t let the opportunity go to waste and you slid in with ease.

Balancing on the edge of the window frame, you put a feet on the ground inside followed by the other - you didn’t miss this place one bit. You had to squint your eyes to adjust your eyes to the sudden darkness, but you managed to see how everything was exactly how you and Dean had left it.

Taking cautious steps to avoid getting hurt due to the glass shattered on the floor, you made your way to the staircase. The silence was odd, in your opinion, the only sounds came from you as the wooden stairs cracked under your every step. Sometimes you wished you could fly, but not everyone had that fortune nowadays.

As you reached the top of the stairs, the smell that hit your nostrils was something you wished you weren’t used to. Rotten meat, that’s what it was, but you kept walking. Thankfully the moonlight was filtering through those nasty windows or else you wouldn’t be able to see your nose in there. You entered carefully in what seemed like a bedroom, a girl’s bedroom.

Cassandra’s pictures were shattered on the ground, the furniture was overturned and most of her belongings were broken on the floor. You walked further into the room and the smell got so bad that you had to cover your nose and mouth with your hand. You expected to find a cadaver inside the wardrobe once you walked over there to open it, but you let out a sigh of relief when all you found were dirty clothes and dead flies.

You scanned the room once again and your eyes fell on the ground, where a stack of paper was scattered all over the carpet. Kneeling down, you picked them up.

You couldn’t read anything as the writing seemed frenetic, and surely the poor light didn’t help. You heard a sudden sound coming from somewhere in the house, and your body reacted before your mind could; you tucked the papers in your pockets with the intention of bringing it back home and try to make light of the situation there.

You decided to keep looking for any clue that would give you some answers, and you made your way in the hallway. You kept walking cautiously and you stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed a door that was different from the others. It was made of iron and it had different locks of different sizes, clearly made to keep something inside.

Bingo.

You knew what was hiding behind that door, you had seen it from the window the other day. Before you could process how you were gonna act next, a soft, feminine voice made your blood run cold.

“Help.” It pleaded. “Please, help. I’m hungry. Open the door. I’m hungry. Please help.”

You blinked a few times, taking a few steps away from that door. You knew that whoever talked was probably Cassandra, but you also knew that she wasn’t her anymore. Those things could imitate voices to lure people. Knowing that, you didn’t even know yourself why you hesitated before leaving, all you knew is that it was probably too late as soon as you heard the sound of jiggling keys in the background accompanied by Mrs Miller’s voice.

With quick reflexes you turned to leave immediately, but the next door you approached was locked and the light was nonexistent since there wasn’t a single window in that corner of the house. You heard Mrs Miller’s steps walking closer, and you thought you were gonna be screwed soon enough…

… except that a pair of hands clamped over your mouth, shutting out any sound you could possibly make. You tried to break free but the stranger was incredibly strong, even stronger than you.

The next thing you knew, you were lifted from the ground momentarily, and then you heard the faint sound of what you associated with a trapdoor closing nearby. As soon as the little lightbulb hanging from the ceiling was turned on, you realized that if it wasn’t for your incredible self control you would have killed somebody.

Bucky Barnes was looking at you with his jaw clenched, but what caught your eyes were those two fucking idiots behind him - and Dean was giggling.

“What the fuck is going on?!” You demanded, as you saw those three fuckers looking at you. Bucky, unlike Sam and Dean, was visibly pissed.

“You’re the one asking that?” Bucky spat, as he was still gripping your wrist. “Leaving the house in the middle of the night like an idiot. What? You thought I wouldn’t hear you?”

“Wait, you came here alone?” Sam asked, looking over where you were sitting.

“Yes, I came here alo- what are we doing here? And how did you get here so quickly?”

“I followed you, you idiot.” Bucky said, his voice sharp with anger as he released his grip on your wrist. “You could have been killed down there. That lady is walking around with an axe, in case you didn’t notice!” He was angry but the sounds below made him keep his voice low - you weren’t out of danger yet.

“A what?!”

“A bloody axe.” Dean clarified, with that smug face still on.

“What are you fucking smiling about?” Bucky’s anger shifted momentarily from you to him, his eyes narrowing in frustration.

“This wasn’t in my bingo card tonight. I mean, what were the odds? First we find you, then you find her - what’s next? Us being torn apart by an hysterical lady?” Dean chuckled, but he was clearly tired.

“I wouldn’t take that out of the equation.” Sam said, leaning back on the wall as you all were sitting on the ground. “I’m too pretty to die again.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You could have been hurt.” Bucky turned to you again, after all you were his main concern. He was on this mission together with you and you were his teammate, not them. So it was understandable that he was worried for your safety, whether he liked you or not.

You glanced over at Dean before you sighed, finally relaxing your muscles after almost being found inside Mrs Miller’s house by Mrs Miller herself while she was walking around with a damn bloody axe. “I haven’t totally been honest with you.”

“No shit.”

“Listen, I wanted to be sure about everything before I told you.” You said exhaling. “Mrs Miller isn’t the only problem around.”

“Don’t you think I hear that fucking thing right now? It’s scratching the door, locked in the room below us.” At Bucky’s words, your eyes fell on the ground. With the silence, you heard it too.

“Then now you know what I was looking for! Stop asking stupid questions!”

“Can you guys fight another time?! Whatever problem you have with one another can wait!” Sam huffed.

“I personally have no problem at all.” You shrugged, gaining a death glare by Bucky. “Listen, I didn’t tell you not because I don’t trust you or anything, formally speaking you’re one of the best agents we have and I have to trust you for this mission.” You spoke sincerely. “But I wanted to be sure and… I know what it is. And I know it’s not going to hurt me.”

Bucky was about to say something when he was cut off. “What do you mean by that?” Dean joined the conversation, now serious, as he looked at you. “That’s a Wendigo - they hunt humans for food, Emma. Of course it’s going to hurt you.”

“What the fuck it’s a Wendigo now?” Bucky felt like smacking repeatedly his head against the wall.

“The Wendigo is a former human that turned into that thing downstairs due to cannibalism. Could live up to hundreds of years eating human meat, but the thing I don’t understand is why Cassandra became one so soon.” Dean explained, scratching his forehead in frustration.

“Which is why we came. She had to eat meat - human meat in order to transform, so someone must have been… you know… giving it to her.” Sam continued.

“Not necessarily.” You shook your head. “We suspect she was taken due to her knowledge about Hydra since probably she got too close to the truth about the patient she was treating, right? Well, you can also turn into a Wendigo through a bite or if its blood it’s mixed to yours and in that case, the transformation requires a few days if it doesn’t kill you first.”

“How do you know that?” Dean frowned.

“Hydra made me watch.” You shrugged.

“What doesn’t make sense is… we suspect she was taken, as you said, due to her finding the truth about what Hydra does to people - but they’re the ones who keep leaving corpses around so they must be the ones that want people to know. Why take her if she did what they wanted?” Sam asked

“Maybe those bodies weren’t meant for her to find” You suggested.

Bucky stayed silent for the whole conversation, processing everything he was hearing. He wasn’t even surprised, it was perfectly in line with the other atrocities Hydra did. “Are you guys sure it’s Cassandra the thing downstairs?” He didn’t question much considering that for the first time ever since he met the two brothers, he was actually believing what they were saying.

“Not really.” You answered. “But it’s a possibility. I don’t see why that woman would keep it locked in her house if that creature didn’t use to be her own daughter.”

“What do you know about the Wendigo?” Bucky narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing you. He couldn’t recall you ever mentioning such creature before. “I’ve been with Hydra for seventy years and not once did they mention anything about this. So how come you know?”

You took a moment to look at his face, before finally giving him an answer - and probably one he didn’t expect. “I am one.” You said. You couldn’t hide it any longer if you wanted to move on with the case.

[certifiedlibraryposts]

re the palestinian bird thing: different anon here, idk what they meant but it’s worth noting that, in addition to political fuckery, that the campaign to remove the word “palestine” from the bird's name might have partially been an attempt to correct a bit of historical revisionism. the only reason that region of the world is commonly known as palestine today in the first place is because the roman empire renamed the area to “syria palaestina” after the roman-jewish wars. they had previously allowed the province to be called judea/judaea, as in jews and the jewish kingdoms that existed there before being conquered. and it wasn't until much later that the arabs now known as palestinians came to be. (disclaimer: I don't speak hebrew and can't be bothered to track down hebrew articles from a decade ago to translate by hand to fact check how much this played into the bird thing but it is a reasonable possibility and an understandable one, as jewish heritage has been so often destroyed and erased. regardless, the palestinian response to make the bird a symbol is equally understandable.) relatedly, be careful about the phrase “from the river to the sea”, because while it's sometimes about palestinian liberation, it's also often used as a dogwhistle that means “kill all jews in the levant”; and the dogwhistle version has become increasingly common as of late. look into the organization called standing together for antisemitism-free activism and jewish/palestinian solidarity.

I see what you mean, the history you mentioned seems to check out and it's unquestionably been a tumultuous part of the world that's been given a lot of different names over time. However I don't really feel comfortable in agreeing it was combating revisionism because it happened during what I understand to be a violent occupation. Without a source or truly knowing the intentions it's just kind of speculation.

"From the river to the sea" was used in that post in the context of Palestinian freedom and peace. Related to that point, I also received another ask concerned with my use of the word "zionist" as it has historically described a very wide range of ideas, and has also been used as an antisemitic dogwhistle. That was not my intent, it's the word I was most familiar with to get across my point that I don't support violence against or the erasure of Palestinian culture. Those using violence and calls for peace to excuse antisemitism are despicable. One can and should be an ally of both Palestinians and Jewish people.

I looked up Standing Together, I can certainly get behind their message of peace and cooperation, and people in Israel who are working to end the genocide deserve so much respect and admiration. It seems like reception to the movement has been mostly positive, but I feel it'd be irresponsible not to mention that the PACBI wing of the BDS movement has taken issue with it in the past week. I don't feel qualified to take a definitive stance either way, especially as I also can't read Hebrew or Arabic to get more direct contex. I encourage anyone interested to learn more and come to your own conclusions.

My overall point is that I do not support the genocide the Israeli miltary is enacting on the Palestinian people. I want to share more posts about Palestinian culture, art, and joy in a time where there is effort being made to erase it.

Finally, while I do my best to make sure what goes on this blog is accurate, I just wanna make it clear that I'm neither an expert at research, nor am I able to be a definitive resource for this topic (or frankly most things).