#And I like that they went ginger for Anya.

[sofasoap]

A quiet moment - Lastochka

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish) + Taskforce 141 + König

Summary: Little Anya getting all the love from her family.

Part I , Part II, Interlude,Part III,Part IV,Part V,Epilogue, Night

WARNING: Mature theme, talk of pregnancy, swearing, slight hint of sexy time

Thanks to @homicidal-slvt for planting ideas into my brain. this whole series is all for you :)

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Nikolai can hear you groaning over the headset, in discomfort. But he couldn’t see what was happening. They are flying over a danger zone, he can’t afford to lose his concentration nor tear his eyes off from the sky, no matter how much he wants to turn around, and check up on you physically. He has noticed you haven’t really been yourself in the last month or so. Often wake up groggy, exhausted all day, and losing appetite. He is seriously starting to worry there might be something wrong with you. You are currently bending over, head in your hand and legs curled up in your seat, trying everything to distract yourself from the nauseating feeling that hits you in waves every time there is a slight turbulence, shaking the helicopter.

“Um… Uh, You ok??” König asked, trying to pat you on the back clumsily. Letting out another groan, you threw your headset to the side, curling up even further into your seat, into a foetus position. Slightly panicking, König reached into one of his side pouches, where he brought out a little tin container. Opening it up, he took out a piece of candied lemon ginger from there and stuffed it into your hand. “Ah, have this, I , um, get motion sickness sometimes, and um, this usually helps.” he stammered as he explains, encouraging you to put the candy into your mouth, hoping to give you a bit of relief. Turning your head slightly with watery eyes, you nodded your head, and quickly putting the candy into your mouth. Getting slight relief from the tanginess of the lemon and spiciness of the ginger, you turn onto your side, leaning your head against the back of the pilot seat. “Give me comfort to have my wife as close to me as possible.” Nikolai said once when you question why he always insists on you sitting right behind him. Now you are glad you have something to lean against, other than trying to lean against König, which you are sure the giant soldier probably will get a panic attack if you do that. With a shaky hand, you pointed to the med kit on the other side of the helicopter, mumbling something. König leaned closer and asked you to repeat.

‘.... ondansetron…..med kit… pass it to me please…” you said weakly. You knew you should have taken it this morning before boarding the flight.  But went against it because you didn’t want to fall asleep during the mission. 

Quickly unbuckle his seat belt, passing other soldiers as he stride over to grab the medication you needed, and pass it onto you. Breaking the foil and putting it under your tongue, try to let your mind wander, and think of everything else other than the breakfast and bile that is threatening to come back up, at the same time praying the anti-nausea medication will kick in ASAP.

König took his headset off, leaning closer, trying to be discreet, “Not trying to be nosy but um, my wife.. She had similar symptoms when she was… you know.” motioning with his large hand, indicating a large stomach. 

You feel like someone has dumped a bucketful of cold water over your head. Shit, you forgot that might be the possibility. But… you have a birth control implant. That’s when you realised, it has expired. For quite a while too. CRAP.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Fidgeting with his hand as he reassured you,you nodded your head with gratitude, thanking him for looking after you.  He pressed the small tin box with the candy into your hand. “Here have this, just in case um, you need it again.” Opening your eyes wide, you shook your head, trying to decline.

‘It’s ok. I can make more.” “You, you made this?” Gosh, that was a surprise.

Twiddling his thumb, he confessed, “I .. I like baking. And um, carving.” Your eyes brightened up. Two of you spend the rest of the flight discussing recipes, and exchanging your famous chocolate biscuit recipe for his Oma’s mouth watering apple strudel recipe. It was a welcoming distraction until the helicopter came to land.

Nikolai found you lying down across the seat, lazily waving goodbye to the soldiers as they departed for their mission. 

“Hey.” You greeted your husband with half closed eyes, the medication has finally kicked in, so has the side effect.

Frowning as he gently moves your head into his lap and caresses your face, “What’s going on little bird, I am seriously worrying about you lately.” “Nothing. Just getting a bit air sick.”Closing your eyes as you enjoy his loving touches, and trying to dismiss his concerns. Not wanting to fuss about you and letting him in on the news until you are a hundred percent sure. There is a chance maybe you ate something that doesn’t agree with you, or maybe you are getting a bit old, and motion sickness gets you easier now. But deep down, you are pretty certain the cause of the discomfort. “You never get motion sickness. At least not when I am piloting.” He puffed with pride. “I know how your brain works, little bird, tell me what is wrong.” He can always read your thoughts. When you are hiding something. When you are uncomfortable. When you pretend to be strong. “I really don’t know.” You are scared. Scared by his reaction to a possible new addition to the family? Or are you scared that after finally working your way back to active duty, you will be pushed back to sitting in the barrack again, that feeling of uselessness coming back to you again. Taking a deep breath and circling your arm around his waist, “Maybe it’s something I ate. I’ll get it checked out once we are back at the base.” 

“Promise me you will?” He gave you a look of warning. He knows you too well. You will put things off until the last minute or until necessary.

“Yes love. I will.” burying your face into his abs, taking in his scent, giving you some comfort. Not yet. Just to keep it to yourself a little bit longer..

“Positive?????” “Positive. Congratulations.” 

Chameleon passed you the pregnancy stick and blood test result. “Now you know what that means right?”

Your shoulders drop. Rubbing your forehead, you know you have to stop all active duty pretty much from now on. You are going to miss looking after the team from the frontline. 

“How did you do it?” You asked after staring at the piece of paper in front of you. Signing off another few documents,she replied,“ Well,I guess my situation is slightly different, I rarely get sent out, so it was easier for me. But.” passing the prescriptions to you, “You know how much John fusses over things, he was texting every hour, if they weren’t going dark,asking how I was feeling.” She sighed. 

You can just imagine the Captain hovering around his wife, nagging away like a mother hen. Letting out a snorting laugh, you took the documents from her. 

“Anyway, go get some rest. I’ll file the reports to the HR tomorrow. But it’s up to you to break the news to the boys now.” She smiled. You gave her a big hug before you left the infirmary, back to your shared room. You don’t know how long you have sat there for, zoning out, thinking of ways to break the news to the team. Or to your husband first. Also trying to fully come to terms with the situation, another big twist to your life. The two of you have briefly talked about the possibility of starting a family when you first got married. You were quite reluctant to jump into it after trying to recover from your ordeal, and Nikolai never mentioned anything again, and you assumed either he wasn’t too keen to bring up the subject or he had given up on the idea. You heard the soft click of the door unlocking, before seeing Nikolai stepping into the room. Calling out to him with a wavering voice, lips trembling, trying hard to contain the tears that are threatening to drop from your eyes. Those damn hormones are already wrecking your emotions, you thought. Why are you even crying???? It’s a happy occasion isn’t it? That self doubt starts to appear again. What if he gets angry at you? What if he doesn’t want the child at all? On that thought you bursted out crying. Nikolai immediately closes the door, taking a few steps forward and kneeling in front of you. “What’s the matter Lastochka, was it bad news from the doctor? Please tell me?” He gently wraps his larger hands around yours, encouraging you to talk. 

Trying very hard not to hyperventilate, you closed your eyes, taking a few deep breath before Letting out the news. “I .. I can’t be with you anymore….” you hiccuped. You feel his hand tighten around yours. Opening your eyes, you can see flashes of fear before staring at you with hardened eyes.  

Realising your mistake, you quickly explain, “ No. nono, that came out totally wrong.” you quickly pull back his already retracting hands, guiding it towards your now slightly showing bump. “I can’t go on missions with you boys anymore. Lady Fortuna is officially off active duty now.” you let out a weak chuckle. “ and you.” Patting his hand and softening your gaze at him, “Have to start learning to be a Papa.” He was still staring at you, you couldn’t figure out his emotion at all. You chewed on your lip, waiting anxiously for his reaction. Pulling one of his hands away, his eyes dropped down to your stomach, slowly caressing it as he started mumbling words in Russian. Your eyes fill up with tears again as you see him showing tenderness towards the unborn baby.

“...Boy or girl?” he whispered. Shaking your head. “I am not sure yet. I am going for the scan in a few days.” “How far along?” 

“I am guessing I am still in the first trimester….” You didn’t want to say, but you had a pretty good idea when this happened…. 

That night was the first time he showed his full possessiveness towards you. Filling you up again and again.“That Сука has tainted my beautiful Lastochka with their filthy hand…” “I have told you before, you will only crave for me, no one else.”

“My beautiful bird,sing for me again.. I know you can do it..” 

Your face starts burning when you think back to the night. “From that covert mission?” he chuckled. “We were.. Quite busy that night.” standing up, he moved himself to sit beside you, and pull you into his lap. 

“Thank you.” He whispered as he slowly and gently kisses you.

“For what?” you murmured.

“Carrying our child.” You chuckled. “Hey, you were part of the production as well.” you teased. “It’s only the start of the journey. We still have a long way to go.” Caressing your bump, he cooed, “Well, can’t wait to meet you, our little nestling.” 

“COME ON Anya, come to uncle Gaz!!!” “Nonono Anya, come to your REAL uncle here!!” 

“....... “ Ghost sits there, opening his arm, staring down at the baby without a word. “Ignore those .. What is the word, bampots? Come to Poppy Price.” Little Anya crawled forward, looking at each one of them, confused. She slowly moves towards Gaz, who is waving one of his latest crochet dolls at her, trying to lure the baby. Anya pouted a little, and looked at her Uncle Soap, currently flashing a brilliant smile at his niece. Anya hesitated, and eyed Ghost, and her eyes went wide with tears in her eyes, and started quickly crawling towards Price. “There there.. It’s ok.” Price cooed and patted the poor baby as she burst into tears, startled by Ghost’s balaclava. Ghost hung his head, shoulders down, feeling defeated. Gaz and Soap gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “ Maybe lose the balaclava and just wear a face mask next time…” Gaz suggested. Stuffing one of the dolls into his hand, “Or maybe try this.” 

The four men were in quite a shock when you called them into Price’s office days after your discovery. 

Sliding the ultrasound picture onto the desk. All four of them stared at it, looking up to you, and back to the photo, and seconds later, Ghost, Gaz and Soap erupted into an argument over who is going to be the godfather to the baby, while Price rubbing his temple, irritated at their antics.

You shifted yourself off base towards the end of the pregnancy, getting ready for the birth.  Price helped you to find a place, close to the base, easy for you to go back and forth for work and visiting. 

The soldiers at the base also have secretly named Ghost Gaz and Soap “Cerberus” as there is always one of the men walking around with you all the time like a guard dog whenever Nikolai isn’t around to look after you.

Little Anya was definitely spoiled by his godfathers and uncles even before she was born.

König and his wife sent a baby gift in a huge crate. You found all sorts of things there. Blankets and winter clothes his wife has made, wooden toys and baby mobiles with aeroplane and helicopter hanging off it made by König. Even a rocking horse. You were really touched by the thoughtfulness of the couple, especially his wife, who you never met before.

This fired up Gaz’s competitiveness when he discovered all the clothing and toys König had sent. He came over one day with a huge bag, inside was all the crocheted dolls of everyone.

Price with his signature boonie hat and little cigar in his mouth, Soap with his mohawk, Gaz with his Union Jack cap, Nikolai and his aviator and headset, and there is you too, in a little combat gear. Konig in his hood and gears. He even asked for photos of your parents crocheting new doll figures afterwards too. 

“You made all these?????” Your jaws drop as he keeps bringing over new knitted items. Now you know where all your previous birthday and holiday gifts came from, you always wondered how everything fits you perfectly with all the unique patterns. Gaz has really surprised you with his unexpected handcraft skills. Soap and Ghost practically decorated the whole nursery full of stuff from the cot and changing tables and the dressers and any supplies you can name? They bought it all.

“.... Boys, you realise you have bought a half room full of nappies that I possibly wouldn’t ever finish using?”

“Hey, they did say newborns pop a lot, better to be ready than sorry.” Soap shrugged his shoulders. “And my niece deserves the best. Doesn’t she??” he bent down and started talking in a baby voice to your very ballooned up stomach. You can see Ghost nodding in agreement behind Soap. 

Price and Chameleon, being experienced parents to two adult kids, provided you with tips and guidance when you needed the most. Especially Chameleon, she knew the hardship of being a soldier’s wife, looking after the children alone. She was there when your water broke, to calm you down when you were crying and worrying Nikolai and the men wouldn’t make it back in time to witness the birth of the baby.

Anya MacTavish ( Nikolai and you decided she would take on your surname, as it was dangerous for Nikolai’s true name and identity to be attached to the child ) was born a healthy baby, inheriting her father’s more calming nature, making minimal fuss when she landed in this world. 

Nikolai tries to be there for the two of you as much as he can. Between assisting the SAS and running the mercenary group, he is a busy man. His heart often drops every time when he comes home, his daughter will clutch onto you, in fear and looking at him as if he is a stranger. It breaks his heart. He decided he needs to start pulling back, spreading his workload to his second in command and spending more time with his family. 

Ghost looked down at the doll he was holding, thought hard for a second, before he went ahead and removed his balaclava. You have only seen once or twice in rare circumstances the real face of Simon, but you didn’t expect him to remove the face covering just for your daughter. Hiding her face in the crook of her Poppy Price’s neck, she turned her face slightly as Simon tried to call out to her, waving awkwardly the little doll of himself. She looks at him, eyes going wide again, trying to make sense of who this “ new person “ is, before reaching out for the doll, Price slowly passes Anya over to Simon, while she is distracted. She let out a little yawn as she fiddled around with the doll, eyes fluttering and fell asleep snuggling in Simon’s arm. Everyone smiled at the scene in front of them.

You can see mixed emotion in Simon’s eyes. Happy that both him and Anya are slowly getting comfortable with one another. Your brother-in-arms deserves every bit of happiness after all the trauma he went through with his life, and maybe his goddaughter will bring him that tiny bit of joy. You gave Nikolai a nudge, reminding him to guide Simon upstairs towards the nursery to put the baby down in the cot to sleep.

“Still sleeping?” Nikolai asked in a hushed voice, as he came up and checked his little princess after all the men had returned to the base. Peering over the cot, he can see she’s holding on tight to the Ghost doll in her arm, while sucking on her thumb as she sleeps.

“Sleeping like a log. Nothing is phasing her even if the ceiling collapses.” You are fortunate Anya has been a very easy baby, sleeping through the night most of the time. A very deep sleeper too. “Just like her mother.” “Hey, I do wake up when I sense danger.” You pouted, referring to the safe house incident where you didn’t even realise Soap and Gaz had entered the apartment.

Nikolai bent over and gave his little baby daughter a kiss on the cheek. Thinking back when he proposed to you. He thought he was lucky enough just to have you in his life, now he has a tiny little precious bird he will give all his life to protect her from all the evil of the world. Letting out a yawn. Exhausted from entertaining the guests you were ready to sleep.  You let out a little yelp as Nikolai scoop you up into a bridal carry. “Time for bed for the big princess.” Kissing you lightly on your forehead, carrying you back towards the bedroom. Ideas pop up in his head. Maybe another baby wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

141 boys often volunteer for babysitting duty.  They were a constant presence in their goddaughter’s life growing up. There is also the constant battle of “ who is Anya’s favourite” going on between the men.

When Anya got married, she insisted her Papa and all her uncles and Poppy walk her down the aisle. 

Anya often changes which doll she is in favour of, one week might be Ghost, next week might be Gaz, or hugging both Price and Soap’s doll to sleep at same time. You tease Price and Chameleon if they are getting clucky again, or they are wishing for a grandkid, Price paled thinking about his little Grace being married so young. You tried out König’s recipe of Apple strudel. And it is heavenly delicious. It became one of Nikolai and Anya’s favourite desserts. 

Yes, thanks to  @siilvan , I am so inspired and might write another chapter in regard how Anya was produced *wink wink * what exactly happened the night of the covert mission (Let’s hope the muse of Smut will inspire me bit more this time )

taglist:

@homicidal-slvt,

@roosterr @preciouslittlecreature

@siilvan @floral-force @kaplerrr

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #könig call of duty #mini mactavish universe #mini mactavish #mini mactavish verse #sofasoap writes

[sapphic-lottienat]

hiii so I saw this on someone else's acc and I rlly wanted to do this!! I am obsessed with Buffy so here we go~

The first character I first fell in love with: Willow Rosenberg!! I mean, is it really a surprise? I think I saw myself in her throughout the show; we're both awkward unconfident gingers who are desperate to feel needed. I had a huge crush on Willow at the start, and I loved seeing her character arc and all of her romantic partners!! She'll always have a special place in my heart <3

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Probably Giles, honestly. I was young-ish when I started watching Buffy, and I didn't really understand or like his character very much. In the first season, he's just so stuffy and librarian-y. But seeing his character develop and change into someone a lot cooler than his season one self was so amazing. Love Giles <3

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: Please, does anyone even like Xander? Like I get that he can be funny sometimes but I just didn't see the point in a lot of decisions that the writers made for him. He was often misogynistic and inappropriate, and that behavior was almost rewarded by giving him love interests WAY out of his league. I never understood how Cordy, Willow, and Anya could have low enough standards to date that man.

The character I love that everyone else hates: Kennedy!!! She gets so much hate just for not being Tara, and I did love Tara so much, but I don't hate Kennedy because of that. Kennedy helped Willow mature into a self-assured adult. She was always respectful of Willow's past relationship with Tara, especially in 'The Killer In Me'. Aahhh I just love her so much, she deserves none of the hate she gets.

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Not really anyone, I love them all!

The character I’d want to be like: Who in their right mind wouldn't want to be like Tara?? She's forever my favorite character, and in season 6, is the glue that holds the Scoobies together. She's so sweet and maternal and loving <3

The character I’d slap:Were he still alive (which I think he might possibly be in the comics??), Warren

A pairing that I love: Omg I love so many pairings in this show, but I think romantically it has to be Willow and Tara all the way <3 They're forever my otp in any show ever. Platonically, it's pretty much a tie between Spike/Dawn or Tara/Dawn. Dawn went through so much and is so overhated by the fandom. Even her own sister (although she was struggling with her mother's death too) didn't properly recognise her sister's pain the way that Tara and Spike did. They also both related heavily to Dawn; Spike had that whole conversation with Dawn about not being able to be good, and although it wasn't really shown on-screen, Tara related to discovering that things she had thought about herself were not true (Tara thinking she was a demon, Dawn discovering she was the key)

A pairing that I despise: Willow and Xander is eternally the worst romantic ship of all time. As I said earlier, Willow was WAY out of Xander's league. Also, with Oz, Tara, and Kennedy, Willow had the most impeccable taste. How in the world did she fall for Xander??

#willow x kennedy #willow x tara #dawn summers #tara maclay #anya jenkins #xander harris #rupert giles #willow rosenberg #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #oz osbourne #willow x oz #spike btvs

[stargazer-sims]

Yeah, it's more of me rambing about characters/writing... sorry.

We like to say that the characters tell their own story and we're just along for the ride, and to some extent, that's true. We may have creative control, but anyone who has any experience with character creation knows that the writing won't work if you try to force a character into doing something they wouldn't do. That's how you know you've created a good character, a dynamic, three-dimensional and real character. They'll tell you who they are, what they believe in, and what they're willing (or not willing) to do.

It's that sort of thing that got me thinking about Nikolai and his indecisiveness over his relationships. I made a joke a while ago while answering one of those "ask the writer" memes about whether or not my characters fight me. I said they don't usually fight me because I know them well enough to know what they want, but in Nikolai's case it was more like he didn't know what he wanted and went, "You're the author. You decide." So I did. And I may have been wrong.

Nikolai and Ginger are great together. They're best friends and they connect on a fundamental level, but I'm starting to think they're not meant to be a couple. Or if they are, they're going to be a platonic couple because neither of them is entirely comfortable with the idea of romance and intimacy with one another. To be clear, they're both very comfortable with romance and sex in general, so that's not the issue. They know they love each other more deeply than a typical friendship too, but they've come to realize they can't seem to get past the hurdle of being besties.

And Nikolai still thinks about Mishka. A lot. And he feels guilty about it sometimes, and doesn't know what to do.

The upside to Nikolai and Ginger's relationship is that Anya has finally decided to stay away from Nikolai. She might've been able to intimidate Mishka, but Ginger won't put up with her shit.

But still, it's not going how they (or I) imagined it.

#sapphire notes

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, October 15

Kyle: Come on, we're gonna check out the Hyena House. Lance: But I think it's off-limits. Kyle: And therein, my friend, lies the fun.

~~The Pack~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Dead End Plots, part 6 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike & Xander vs. Riley, NC-17)

Eclipse by EllieRose101 (Buffy/Spike, G)

A Vampire's Handshake by JayeMaru (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

She really came back wrong by cmduhura (Buffy, Scoobies, FR21)

Collide by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, collection rated R)

Autumnal Shorts, part 15 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, collection rated R)

Surprise! by scratchmeout (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Colonial Bride, Ch. 16 by Feanix88 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Ties to the World, Ch. 27 by The Danish Bird (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Presumably Dead Arm, Ch. 23 by tragic (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

A Love That Defies Space and Time, Ch. 21 by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Edge of the World, Ch. 4 by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Destiny or Choices Made? Ch. 15 by charmed4lifekaren (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

A Marriage of Inconvenience, Ch. 18 by all_choseny (Buffy/Spike, R)

Amara Time, Ch. 2 by Joan963z (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Transfer, Ch. 1 by Blackmysteria (Buffy/Spike, R)

Once More With Feelings, Ch. 1 by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

LA After Midnight, Ch. 4 (COMPLETE!) by MayhemManaged (A-Team crossover, FR15)

With Sprinkles, Ch. 31 by dogbertcarroll (anime crossover, Xander, FR15)

Shall We? Ch. 7 by Ginger (Buffy/Spike, R)

A Place in the Sun, Ch. 33 by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

A Place in the Sun: Epilogue by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

A Marriage of Inconvenience, Ch. 17 by all_choseny (Buffy/Spike, R)

Use It or Lose It, Ch. 4 by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

6.09 «Smashed» You know this moment 😏 by lialivingart (Buffy/Spike, worksafe if your coworkers are unfamiliar with canon)

Ink drawing: The Master (in Spooktober Day 12 to 15) by philipreadart-blog (worksafe)

Drawing: Buffy and Angel by chxrcasm (worksafe)

furry angel arts by fblckt (worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

the wolf 359 writers understood the main principles that made buffy’s writing work. which I would say are... by all-seeing-ifer

"Halloween" analysis by linkspooky

Entropy S6 E18 (Buffy and the Art of Story Podcast) - Lisa Lilly

Episode 108: Spiral – Myth Taken: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Podcast

Emma Caulfield also brought it in the audio drama by oveliagirlhaditright

Mothman's Buffy Rewatch: Season 2, Episodes 2 and 3, "Some Assembly Aquired" and "School Hard" by mothmansweddingphotographer

Least favorite jokes? by sadhungryandvirgin

Does anyone like slayers? I've seen some negative posts. Wondering if any positive? by ji1288

Slayers is disappointing (Minor spoilers up to episode 5) by speashasha

[Recs & In Search Of]

Any fanfics where Angel and or Spike get to the age where they become like The Master & Kakistos? by suikofan80

[Fandom Discussions]

[A theory about what the Council told Kendra before sending her to Sunnydale] by buffy-targaryen

Discussion of Giles in "Slayers" by girl4music and confusedguytoo

[Redacted] was never a romantic pairing I would have ever thought of... But now that I have it [in Slayers]... by girl4music

Re: Spike for the character bingo by kitkatt0430

There’s the scene back in the crypt in 5x14 (Crush)... by winterlovesong1

Let's remember the moment when Faith stepped into Buffy's life by pugzillarex

If Buffy went dark like Willow, what would stop her? by pinenutty23

I feel like the mom from The Witch would have been a compelling villain to bring back by cre8ivemind

Between Willow and Buffy who do you think Anya liked more/felt closer to? by SafiraAshai

Who would swear the most if they were able to? by young_fire

Favourite guest appearances you recognised from other shows by Sea-Medicine-411

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

James Marsters & Juliet Landau's Hal-Con 2023 Schedule via dontkillspike

Slayers' Audible star James Marsters didn't think he'd get another stab at Spike - UPI.com

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#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #slayers: a buffyverse story

[heybeybey]

Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

--

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

#rivetra #levi x petra #rivapeto #levitra #petra x levi #levi ackerman #petra ral #lolo levi #skater petra #rivetra fic #rivetra fanfic #rivetra fanfiction

[usergrantaire]

Lights Will Guide You Home: Chapter V

A/N: my birthday’s in two days, on the fourteenth, so fuck yeah! i would update then, but i’m going to be on a plane for most of my birthday :/ so here’s another update

READ IT HERE ON AO3

previous chapter: xxx

Despite the fact that it was nearing the end of March, a snowstorm took Les Amis by surprise on the day they were going to accompany Éponine and Enjolras to pick out clothes for the wedding, and all of them were freezing their asses off once they had met up in front of the multi-level wedding boutique Enjolras had booked appointments at. Once Joly, Musichetta, and Bossuet had arrived, Éponine was quick to rush inside, desperate to get out of the freezing cold. Without another word, she whisked Musichetta, Cosette, and Azelma off to the third floor of the boutique, leaving Enjolras there in the lobby with everyone else.

Once his fiancée and the other women had disappeared into an elevator somewhere, Enjolras turned around to face the others, suddenly nervous. This was a huge, massive deal. “So I guess we’ll be looking for tuxedos, then! Shall we establish some rules?”

“Jehan’s not allowed to pick out any of the clothes,” Courfeyrac piped up immediately, earning himself a little “hey!” of protest from the ginger-haired man in question.

“Bahorel gets the final say,” Grantaire added.

The look on Enjolras’ face was quick to turn incredulous. “Why is he getting the final say? I’m the one getting married.”

“No offence, Enj, you’ve got excellent taste, but it’s just not as good as Bahorel’s,” Feuilly told him, apologetic.

“You don’t get a say in this, you’re dating him,” Enjolras retorted a little too snippily.

“He’s right, though,” Combeferre chimed in, walking over to stand beside Enjolras and place a calming hand on the golden-haired man’s shoulder. “How about this—what if you get the final say but Bahorel has to approve of it first?”

“It’s really fucking hilarious to hear you guys arguing about me, honestly,” Bahorel drawled from beside Feuilly, arms crossed across his chest and a smug smirk on his face. “It’s kind of flattering.”

“Okay, fine,” Enjolras relented, unable to keep himself from petulantly glowering at all of them. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but he supposed having Bahorel’s input would prove to be valuable, especially since he was the best dressed out of all of them, always looking so effortlessly fashionable with everything he wore. If Bahorel approved of what Enjolras picked out, then Éponine was sure to love it. “Can we just look for clothes already?”

One of the shop employees escorted them off to an area absolutely bursting at the seams with tuxedos of all different kinds, Enjolras feeling as if they were being swallowed by the place as most of the others went to sit down on the couches provided. How the fuck was he supposed to choose between all of these different choices? He’d never been too indecisive of a person, but in that moment, he was completely overwhelmed by the choice he probably had to make in the span of two hours.

Enjolras, unsure of what to do, followed his instincts and went over to one of the racks to pull off a tuxedo made of red velvet in his size, but before he could go and try it on in one of the dressing rooms, Bahorel immediately declared, “No. Fuck no.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” Enjolras asked in confusion, completely at a loss.

“It’s hideous, for one,” Bahorel replied scathingly, eyeing the tuxedo as if it had insulted him personally and spat in his face. “You are not getting married in that. It’s ugly as sin.”

Enjolras sighed and rolled his eyes, putting it back on the rack. He grabbed a different tuxedo off the rack, and so it began.

Meanwhile, Azelma, Musichetta, and Cosette were comfortably seated on a plush sofa on the third floor of the boutique as Éponine spoke enthusiastically with the consultant, Anya, a bright-eyed young woman about their age who bore a striking resemblance to Musichetta. “What kind of dress would you like, ma’am?” Anya questioned, a sunny smile spreading across her face.

“Just Éponine is fine,” Éponine replied, rather flustered. Instinctively, her hand went to her locket to fidget with it as she tended to do whenever she got nervous. “I… I’m not really sure, now that I think of it. I’ve been looking at some wedding dresses online, I think I have a bit of a vague idea of what I want.” Thinking back to the dresses that had tickled her fancy, Éponine amended, “Actually, all I know is that I want sleeves with my dress. Like, long sleeves. Either lace or appliqué.”

“Well, we’ll start with that, then!” Anya said brightly, leading Éponine off to look at billions of dresses. Éponine felt like she might faint at the sight of them all. How the fuck was she supposed to choose?

After ten minutes of browsing the racks, Éponine picked out a long-sleeved off-the-shoulder gown with a sweetheart neckline and a layered skirt of tulle, the skirt tapering away into a magnificent chapel train. When she came out of the dressing room to show her bridesmaids the dress, Azelma immediately nodded yes, giving her sister a double thumbs up. Musichetta and Cosette, however, weren’t as easily convinced.

“I don’t know…” Musichetta’s voice trailed off as she pursed her lips at the dress.

“It’s not really you,” Cosette told her gently, giving her an encouraging smile when Éponine’s face fell. “Eppy, it’s okay, you’ll go through a lot of dresses before you find the perfect one. That was the case for me.”

Éponine mustered a wan smile at her friend, though inside, she was rather horrified at the thought of trying on a gazillion more dresses before she settled for the perfect one. Turning back to the small consultant, she asked, “Anya, if you may?”

The next dress Éponine tried on wasn’t quite as extravagant as the previous one—this one had appliqué sleeves instead of lace, with a sheer overlay and a strapless undershirt with a sweetheart neckline attached to the tulle skirt, which had a sweep train. Éponine tried not to frown to herself as she exited the dressing room to show the others, finding the sleeves itchy and bothersome. The three women immediately shook their heads simultaneously upon seeing Éponine in the dress.

“Hell no,” Azelma said, making a face.

“Nope,” Musichetta echoed.

“No,” Cosette added.

Éponine sighed and went back with Anya, picking out another dress to try on. Only two dresses in and she was already tired.

Well, she supposed that was what came with having a big white wedding. She did want to look her best on what was going to be one of the happiest days of her life, the other day being when Victoire was born.

This time, she was going to rule out appliqué sleeves; they were much too itchy and she refused to be uncomfortable all day on her wedding day. With Anya’s help, she took off the previous dress and slipped into the next one, observing herself in the mirror—it was much like the previous one with the white sweetheart-neckline undershirt, but the overlay had a boat neck and the lace sleeves reached her wrists, the cinched waist flowing into a lovely taffeta skirt that tapered off into a luxurious chapel train. When she came out to show the others, their reactions were mixed.

“We’re getting closer!” Cosette told her encouragingly, a bright smile on her face.

“Not this one, but like Cosette said, we’re getting closer,” Azelma chimed in, smiling at her sister.

After what felt like a million dresses later—in reality it was only about seventeen—Éponine found herself in a dress that she realised she never wanted to take off, observing herself in the mirror and feeling like she could cry at the sight of herself. Anya was beside her in the dressing room, beaming at Éponine through the mirror as the two of them stood there in the dressing room, Éponine transfixed by how she looked in the dress. It didn’t only just look nice either; it was comfortable as well, and she absolutely adored how she looked in it.

She knew this was the dress she would pick had she gone shopping alone, but still, she needed the others’ input, needing to see if this really was the perfect dress. When she went out of the dressing room to show Azelma, Musichetta, and Cosette, their jaws all dropped in tandem.

“Yes,” Azelma declared without hesitation.

Cosette’s entire face lit up as she squealed, “Eppy, this is it!”

Éponine’s eyes lit up, as did her entire face, hopeful. “Really?”

“Yes, definitely,” Musichetta confirmed, feeling tears beginning to sting her eyes at the sight of one of her best friends in the dress. “It’s perfect.”

Éponine felt like she could cry, having finally found the perfect dress, and she turned back to Anya with a watery smile on her face. “This is the one.”

“No.”

“Are you seriously thinking about getting married in that monstrosity?!”

“What are you, straight?”

“I know I have bad taste, but even I can tell that that’s terrible.”

“We’re all going to be wearing matching tuxes, right? There’s no fucking way I’m wearing that. It’s atrocious.”

Enjolras groaned and stepped back into the dressing room after the cutting remarks he had received from the other men, ready to take off this tux and start all over again. This was the twenty-second one he had tried on and the others still weren’t satisfied, frequently insulting his choices and telling him to try on another one. He was beginning to wonder if they were just pulling his leg, trying to see which one of them could push him to his breaking point, as he pulled off this tux to put on another one. Then again, he had chosen to try on a tux in a hideous shade of vomit-green, so he supposed the others’ reactions were more than justified. They didn’t have to be so mean about it, though.

His previous choices had been a whole variety of velvet, wool, satin, and God knows what else, the colours ranging from firetruck red to midnight blue. They had all been rejected by the others, though in hindsight, Enjolras supposed his choices so far have been… questionable, to say the least, so he was determined to stick to the sensible-looking clothes Combeferre had helped him pick out. This particular tuxedo was made of pitch-black wool with silk-satin peak lapels and silk-covered buttons along with a satin leg stripe, a wine-red vest underneath along with a matching bowtie. He liked how he looked in this one—now if only the others would approve of it.

Holding his breath in anticipation, he stepped out of the dressing room.

To his shock, everyone else’s mouths fell open, almost simultaneously.

“Finally, something that isn’t fucking grotesque.” Bahorel clicked his tongue before his contemplative frown morphed into a grin and he nodded. “That’s it.”

Enjolras’ blue eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“Yep,” Feuilly piped up. “We really can’t argue against this one. It suits you.”

“Finally,” Enjolras huffed, feeling as if a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders at finally finding the right tux, looking back at himself in the mirror to make sure it really did look okay. It looked more than okay, actually—it was perfect. This was the one.

After placing the order, making a deposit, and scheduling his first fitting, Enjolras was all too glad to get out of that stuffy area of the boutique and meet Éponine and the other women back in the lobby. His entire face lit up upon seeing Éponine again, immediately making his way over to her as she grinned the moment her eyes found his. She linked her arm with his as the others traipsed out of the boutique and into the snow, the two of them close behind.

“Did you find a dress?” Enjolras asked quietly once they had parted ways with the others, bidding them goodbye. Snow was lazily drifting down towards the ground, falling sporadically and dusting Éponine’s brown newsboy cap white as they walked towards the subway together, arm in arm.

Éponine looked up to smile mysteriously at him. “Yep.”

She said nothing else on the matter, the two of them walking down the steps and descending onto the subway platform to stand there, waiting for their train to come by. “We’ll probably have a warmer autumn season, with this snowstorm we just got this morning,” Éponine mused as she swayed slightly from side to side, humming to herself.

“Well, that’s good, right? We won’t be too chilly on our wedding day.” Enjolras unlinked his arm from hers to put it around her shoulders, pulling her close and turning his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Less than eight months to go, my love.”

“Still feels like such a long time,” Éponine mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder as their train arrived, zooming past and screeching to a halt. “I just wanna marry you already.”

“So do I,” Enjolras murmured in reply as the train doors slid open and people began pouring out before they could step inside, “but I promise we’ll be getting married before we know it. Patience, ’Ponine.”

Once they had found seats near the end of their train car, Éponine slipped her hand into his and laced their fingers together, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m going to be Mrs. Enjolras,” she giddily thought out loud, laying her head on his shoulder once again.

“You’re taking my name?” Enjolras asked, hints of surprise showing through in his voice.

“Of course I am.” Éponine lifted her head briefly to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve wanted to get rid of the name Thénardier for a long time now. This is literally the perfect opportunity.”

They spent the rest of the train ride in comfortable silence, the sun having gone down by the time they got home. The lights in their apartment were on, alerting them that Angela and Victoire had come back from their day out, and once Éponine and Enjolras had trudged up the steps and opened the door, Victoire came running towards them as fast as she could, launching herself into Éponine’s arms and nearly knocking the young woman off her feet. “Mommy!”

Éponine steadied herself, holding Victoire in her arms and laughing as the little girl carefully brushed some melting snow off her mother’s shoulders. “Hi, Peanut! How was your day with Nana?”

Victoire babbled excitedly in response as Éponine took off her cap and kicked her boots off, waiting until Enjolras had taken off his boots and his coat before passing Victoire to him so she could do the same with her own coat. Angela approached them from the living room, a little smile on her face as Éponine took her coat off and hung it up, leaving her in just one of Enjolras’ hoodies, skinny jeans, and fuzzy socks.

“How did everything go? Did you find a dress, Éponine?” Angela asked in interest as they walked back into the living room together, Victoire tugging on Enjolras’ curls and laughing to herself as he restrained himself from grimacing.

“Yes, I did,” Éponine replied happily, sitting down on the sofa as Enjolras sat down beside her with Victoire in his lap, Angela taking a seat in a nearby armchair. “Signed the contract and put down a deposit and everything. The boutique says my dress will arrive in sixteen weeks and they’ll call me when it comes in.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Angela beamed, clapping her hands together. “What about you, Gabriel?” she asked, turning her attention to her son, who was rather occupied at the moment with trying to pry Victoire off of him, her chubby fingers tangled in his hair.

“I found a tuxedo,” Enjolras told his mother. “I made a deposit and scheduled my first fitting.” Wincing when Victoire’s fingers grasped his hair a little too tightly for his liking, he told Angela, “Thanks for taking care of Victoire for the day, Mother. We really appreciate it.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” Angela assured him and Éponine. “I love spending time with my granddaughter.” Standing up, she announced, “Well, I guess I’ll get going, then! Call me whenever you need me, okay? Anytime at all.”

“Sure thing,” Éponine replied as Angela took her coat off the hanger and pulled it on before she exited the apartment with one final goodbye, leaving the little family alone. Victoire had finally stopped pulling at Enjolras’ hair, simply contenting herself to curl up in her father’s lap and coo softly. Éponine thought it almost sounded like the little girl was singing.

“So what kind of music do you want at the wedding?” Éponine questioned. Enjolras looked up at her; up until that point, he had been gazing down at Victoire, gently bouncing her up and down in his lap and stroking her golden hair as she curled up in his arms. When he gave his fiancée a questioning look, Éponine explained, “I figured we should start planning it out. Make a playlist and sh—” She quickly cut herself off, remembering that Victoire was right there, still very much awake (though it seemed she would be falling asleep soon). Recovering, Éponine continued, “Anyway, we should probably decide on what the song for our first dance is going to be at one point.”

“I don’t really want the reception to be a dance party, but that’s all I know,” Enjolras replied, uncertain. “I have no idea what the music should be. Should we leave it up to Jehan?”

Éponine shrugged noncommittally. “He already gave me a whole playlist of songs to choose from for our first dance, let’s start with that. I don’t want the reception to be a dance party either.”

Victoire let out a huge yawn, one that could rival those of Toby the Yorkie, and she reached towards Éponine. “Mommy…”

Éponine lifted Victoire out of Enjolras’ lap and into her own, holding the little girl in her arms as her eyelids began to droop. “Mommy, Mommy,” Victoire mumbled as Éponine gently rocked her back and forth the way she used to do when Victoire was an infant.

“What is it, Vicky?” Éponine asked lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter’s forehead.

Victoire said nothing, beginning to be lulled to sleep as Éponine rocked her back and forth, eyelids drooping. Éponine scooted closer to Enjolras, curling into him and laying her head on his shoulder as Victoire slowly fell asleep in her arms. Éponine smiled when she felt Enjolras’ lips brush the top of her head as he put an arm around her, the two of them just sitting there on the living room sofa together with their daughter.

Éponine began to softly sing to Victoire as the toddler began to nod off, her little eyelids growing heavier by the moment. Enjolras couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Éponine softly singing “Here Comes the Sun” to their daughter, gently rocking her to sleep, and he pressed another kiss to the top of Éponine’s head. “I love you,” he murmured, eliciting a little smile from her.

She paused mid-song to whisper in response, “I love you, too.”

After a while, Victoire was fully asleep, and Enjolras picked her up out of Éponine’s lap as he stood up. “I’ll go put her to bed,” he told her, his voice soft so not to wake up their daughter. Éponine nodded, staying seated on the sofa and pulling out her phone to scroll through the seemingly endless playlist of first-dance songs Jehan had made for her on Spotify, her brow furrowing at the sheer amount of songs she and Enjolras were expected to choose from. Plugging her earbuds in, she put the playlist on shuffle, pursing her lips as she began to listen to the first song that came up. Enjolras returned shortly after to find Éponine sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a contemplative look on her face with earbuds plugged into her ears.

Going over to sit down next to her, he motioned for her to take one earbud out. When she did so, Enjolras asked quietly, “What are you listening to?”

Éponine handed him the earbud she had taken out so they could sit together and listen. “The playlist Jehan made for us. Just so we can get ideas of what we like. Who knows? Maybe we’ll agree on a song.”

Enjolras listened along with her, though his eyes widened in shock at the sight of how many songs had been put on that playlist. “Are we really expected to choose from over three hundred songs?” he asked in alarm, looking at Éponine.

“’Jolras, calm down, we still have a little over seven months to choose,” Éponine reassured him, pressing a kiss to her fiancé’s cheek. “We’ll be fine. We’ll find a song we both love and that’ll be our song.”

Enjolras smiled at her words as she laid her head on his shoulder, curling into him and feeling his arm snake around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as they both listened to “From This Moment On”, murmuring nearly inaudibly to her, “I love you, ’Ponine. So much.”

“I love you so much too,” Éponine replied softly.

The two of them didn’t end up getting through most of the playlist, falling asleep together on the sofa five songs in.

A/N: lemme know what you think, feel free to creep into my inbox ;)

#kei writes #lights will guide you home #enjonine #enjoninepride #•otp: you are my revolution• #les mis #fanfic #modern au #pregregnert verse #pls reblog

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Footie II

MORE lexa soccer player please and thank you!

Previously on Footie

The ride home after a game was one of the best times on the planet. Coming down from the high of playing, from the adrenaline of winning, from the pressure of the team and herself, from that glorious feeling of her muscles twitching with built up lactic acid from leaving every ounce of sweat and preparation on the field. It was an almost sacred time.

On the flight, most slept. Lexa usually read or relaxed, maybe snuck in a movie or something to numb the very excited and antsy part of her that came with the coming down she adored. It wasn’t often that she kept up on her phone, but something about the flight and her boredom and the antsiness made her scroll.

They were nearly home by the time she found a certain remark that made her pause. Fate did not disappoint her once again.

Anxiously, Lexa sat up as soon as she found the girl. She looked around as if she were about to do something illegal, as if at any moment someone would catch her, though deep down she knew there was nothing wrong about looking, she felt… she felt the tiny jokes and hard time her team would give her.

Satisfied that she was alone,she snuggled deeper into her sweatshirt and plane seat. Outside, the world passed, the night grew darker. The striker rubbed the soreness on her knee though it was not because it was worse than normal, but merely out of nerves.

For a moment she reconsidered, putting the phone into her pocket and clenching her jaw. Her foot tapped at the bottom of the seat in front of her before she sighed, long and heavy and gave up to herself.

When she was a child, her mother often joked that Lexa was her own babysitter. She had a strict moral code, and a police state-like vigilance over herself. While Anya was prone to sneaking out and being generally difficult and rebellious, Lexa was the opposite. NO one knew why. Her father certainly wasn’t like that, according to her mother. And her mother, well she was the one telling Lexa to sneak out with her sister just so she could have something to yell about sometimes. But Lexa was cursed with her own kind of conscious that she was only slowly learning to trick.

For instance, she could now lie to herself about this girl because it was just looking, right? It wasn’t like she was waiting around, and so there was no harm, no risk of getting more attached, no real risk at all.

It was the part of her that wanted to be attached that scared her.

The first few tweets were just silly, random things. One was an innocent retweet of a little video of Lexa’s goals from the game, and that made her smile into her collar. A bit deeper down were videos of songs, a few jokes and replies, some education-based government initiatives and politically motivated snide comments.

And then came the pictures.

Nervously, Lexa looked around again like she’d get caught with porn.

But from the overview, none looked to be that, just colorful squares and a pretty blonde peppered throughout.

She should stop, she argued with herself. But she was too deep.

Instead, she grinned when the first picture appeared. Twirling the end of her drawstring between her fingers, she bit at it a second later.

There was Clarke at a graduation for what looked like elementary students in miniature caps and gowns. There was a picture of freshly baked cookies. There were friends at a cookout. There were little words inked on pale skin, made visible by a slightly lifted shirt. There were car trips and books and music and lots of pictures in an apron at some restaurant. The more she scrolled, the more she grinned.

She stopped at the one of Clarke at a charity race. She stared at the girl who beamed with a medal beside her cheek, and she read the caption about her father

Of course she was, Lexa sighed. She had to be the daughter of one of the best football coaches in all of history, and Lexa’s all-around hero for most of her life.

“Fate,” she groaned and let her head loll back against the seat.

The little restaurant was nothing at all. It had enough tables for the regulars. It had good enough food and cheap enough drinks that it filled and emptied onto the patio. The atmosphere was always genial and calm and quiet. Clarke knew it better than she knew herself. It’d been her first job, her support through college, and even in the summer months, it was a nice reprieve from teaching and stress. It was a quiet slice of familiar for her.

Still, she caught the score and highlights and shook her head at the girl who lead the league in goals. Still, she couldn’t believe she almost thought fate would push her toward a soccer player.

It must have been comical.

“We’re closed,” she hummed as the bell rang and she finished stacking silverware on the side.

“Sorry. I just… I was in the neighborhood.”

As soon as she heard the voice, she knew and sighed before looking at the ceiling and asking the entire will of the world why this was so enjoyable for the forces at work to watch. Soccer players were bad news. It was that simple.

“I thought you were in Germany.”

“Poland,” Lexa shrugged, hands deep in the pockets of her shorts. “But you did figure it out then?”

“Okay, it only took me a little longer than embarrassing,” Clarke shrugged as she resumed her task of cleaning up behind the bar. “Honestly, had I not stopped by to see my dad, I wouldn’t have known. He’s a huge fan. He coaches.”

“An understatement,” the intruder mumbled. “So fate brought us together again?”

There was a bashful kind of grin there as they stood, strangers and nothing more.

“You literally had a game tonight. How are you here?” the waitress shook her head. “Wait. How are you here?”

“I’m running off of that post-game adrenaline.”

“Right.”

“I saw your comment a few days ago. I’ve been trying to usher fate along a bit. I’ve run past this place every day this week, but no luck.”

She had this air about her, this quiet, this calm, this strength, this worry, these thoughts that were impossible to not be endeared by. For a complete stranger, Clarke understood some of it, at least more than she thought she should.

“Isn’t that a sign?”

“I just don’t have the patience,” she shrugged again. “There was a little bit of fate. I took a little bit of circumstance and made my own luck.”

“But how did you know I was here?”

“I, uh, you know. Um. Internet.”

Clarke shook her head and untied her apron. Perhaps it was pointless to fight fate, perhaps this was the moment, the one where everything changed and nothing stayed the same. Perhaps all she had in front of her was a very bored soccer player who would break her heart like the last. Perhaps it was magic.

“So, what now?”

“I thought of a lot of really cool lines, like if we bumped into each other and stuff. I honestly hadn’t planned this part. You know, with the--”

“Adrenaline, yeah,” Clarke chuckled as she clicked off the lights in the back. “Well, what are they then, champ?”

“Huh?”

“What were you going to say?”

Clarke was distracted by the slope of her nose. The slight Roman tilt to the bridge of it, high and noble. The gentle part of her jaw. The way she dug her thumb into her palm to lessen the nerves.

“Marry me,” Lexa grinned.

“Right for the kill, huh?”

“I can’t think of any of them right now. Just. There’s a bit of fate here, isn’t there?”

Hopeful and eager, Clarke was certain she was party puppy herself. Lexa swallowed and watched the waitress move toward her.

“Do you want to go get a drink before the whole proposal thing?” Clarke ventured, turning off the final light.

“I don’t drink.”

“At all?”

“I like ginger ale.”

With a heavy sigh, Clarke appraised the girl in front of her.

“One ginger ale. On me. That’s all you get to plead your case.”

“I’m pleading now?”

“I don’t date soccer players.”

“Well I’m not sure I want to date at all, so this works out well,” Lexa decided, earning a smile.

She already knew it was too late, but that lone dimple sure as hell was the final nail in her coffin.

The riverfront was quiet. Tuesday was boring, even in July, but the stillness of the water, the quiet of the humidity, the wilt of the leaves, the curls of hair that refused to even battle the elements, the smell that comes at a certain temperature when the breeze picked up that is so innately summer, it strangled the city.

“My niece. She invited me as her Show and Tell object last year, and I had to stand there, in full uniform, while she explained what I did,” Lexa grinned as Clarke picked pictures for her to explain. “Then, she made me do tricks.”

“And you agreed to it?”

“Look at those dimples and those eyes,” she groaned. “I’m a sucker. And she’s my biggest fan. She wears a shirt with my name on it and I’m just… It probably fills me with the most pride.”

“She’s a cutie for sure,” Clarke grinned, taking a sip of her own ginger ale.

The pair leaned against the railing, ignoring proximity and the city and enjoying their own little world, as they had been for the past two hours. It wasn’t how she expected her night to go, but Clarke wasn’t terribly upset with a night like that.

“It was just me and Anya. We had this age difference that always teetered on this line of her mothering me. Then, after our mom passed, it just brought us together. I miss her a lot. My sister. And my mom,” she added, swallowing and chewing her lip before thinking about it too much. “Has anything ever happened to you, where when you look back at the past, you see yourself, and you just… it seems so far removed? You can’t imagine that person anymore?”

“Yeah,” Clarke sighed.

“What was it?”

“I liked it better when you were proposing.”

“It’s fate.”

Clarke took a deep breath and refused to meet those eyes. Those eyes were attached to that mouth, the same one that smiled when Clarke told her about some of her students and the things they said, or that frowned when she explained her dislike of the sport because of a shitty ex.

“My mom’s a doctor. Her father was a doctor. His was a doctor. It went back probably to healers in clans or something,” she shrugged. “And I put a lot of pressure on myself to do it, and I didn’t want to be a doctor. So I sabotaged myself a bit, I guess. Senior year of high school, I was admitted to the hospital for exhaustion. Which spiralled from there. It was a long year. And sometimes I’ll think of me in  high school, and it’s a different person. I’m just… I’m happy now. I can’t remember ever having that feeling before.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

“A year ago we found out my dad has cancer. Things haven’t been the same since that, honestly. But I’m not far enough in the future to separate it yet, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Lexa nodded, fiddling with the tab of her soda can.

“Tell me your deep dark secrets now, World Champion Trophy Award-Winning Superstar with A Million Endorsement Deals.”

“Are you mocking me for endorsing products?” she laughed, twisting her side against the railing and facing the enigma of a girl who made her ache and fixed her up so quickly she hadn’t seen it coming. “I go through a lot of cleats. I have to get some for free.”

“What about sports bras and running shorts that you use on unsuspecting girls in the park?”

“Oh, you remember that?” she grinned, all mischievous and good and Clarke was certain a bit of the devil mixed in for good measure.

Lexa earned a blush. She saw it right there in the evening under the street light.

“Who were you before?” Clarke ignored her.

Lexa took a deep breath as well and tilted her head up to the sky with her eyes closed, enjoying the night and the warmth and the company.

“I can’t remember. I mean. I watch memories happen. I just don’t remember the motivation for much of it. Anya says I get all stuck in my head. I think I used to be happy and loud and she says I would make everyone laugh. But I can’t picture doing it.”

“What happened?” Clarke’s voice was tiny, but such was the appropriate volume to ask such things after midnight on a Tuesday in July.

“My mom worked really hard so that I could play. It was always just us. My dad pissed off sometime before I could know him,” Lexa shrugged. “She picked me up from practice even though she had to go back to work that night. We were talking about dinner. I remember that. She was laughing because I was hungry. I’m always hungry,” she smiled. “And then we weren’t. And I remember opening my eyes and she was just staring at me. Only we were upside down and there was glass and blood and the smell. I remember that a lot.”

“I’m… Lexa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I mean. I. Your’s is so much--”

“It’s not more or less than anyone else’s. It just is,” she stopped Clarke before she could fret over it. “My mom used to be very superstitious. She’d have prayers, toss salt over her shoulder, spit on my cheeks. Everything was meant to be. I never believed in it. Now it’s kind of just habits. But it was nice thinking of her when I ran into you twice.”

“I like that though,” Clarke smiled, leaning closer. “I think the summer is magic. I always have. I don’t know why, but it just… It feels like magic, doesn’t it? It was missing before someone asked me for directions. With my dad and stuff, the magic has been at a minimum.”

“A bit of fate then did us both some good.”

“Something like that.”

By two in the morning, the streets were slumbering despite the wonderings of two strangers who didn’t know where their feet led them, and frankly didn’t much care. If there was magic, it wouldn’t let the night end.

“I can appreciate that, but you’re wrong,” Lexa argued vehemently.

“I don’t care how much you love action movies. Big Trouble in Little China is not a cinematic masterpiece,” Clarke scoffed, unable to believe it.

“What about They Live?”

“What now?”

“I’m here to kick ass and chew bubblegum,” Lexa mimicked, arms out and full of fake guns. “And I’m all out of bubblegum.”

“Seriously?” Clarke laughed, pushing her slightly.

“Okay, but Robocop? Terminator? Lethal Weapon?”

“I mean, those are movies,” she shrugged while Lexa balked at the simple description. “I’ve never really been into them.”

“Oh my goodness,” the soccer player let her head droop forward, shaking sadly. “Out of all of the girls in the universe.”

“I told you I was hard to love.”

“You can just watch them with me. I’ll corrupt you yet,” Lexa offered, nudging the blonde to get back on the sidewalk as one of the first delivery trucks of the morning crept along, turning into the alley they passed.

“Making plans already?”

“I gave up fighting fate when I was hanging upside down in a car,” she shrugged. “Makes those penalty shots a little more tolerable, too.”

Clarke smiled to herself at the words. She wasn’t sure how, but she slid her hand around Lexa’s bicep and rested her chin on her shoulder.

While she was still very unfamiliar with the city, despite the beautiful buildings, despite the quiet and the slow, meandering walk they allowed themselves, Lexa couldn’t look at much else other than the girl who talked animatedly about her students and the state of affairs of her very nosy neighbors.

It was distracting at best, but the city took such a backseat to this stranger who was becoming not a stranger over the course of a few hours.

“When I was seven, my mom decided I needed an outlet for my energy, so she signed me up,” Lexa shrugged, oddly self-conscious when the conversation turned to her. It was easy to talk about movies and stuff, it was impossible to be honest.

“I can imagine you as a bundle of energy.”

“Something like that,” she grinned as she kicked at an old can on the ground. “Our neighbor helped out a lot, Mr. Nash. He’d drop me off at practice, go to games when my mom worked. He’s my biggest fan, to be honest.”

“I bet that’s a long list.”

“He was the original. His wife died a few years before we moved in, and he needed a hobby, so yelling at me when I kicked balls against the fence was his. And then he just kind of… became our family. Mia calls him Pappy. He has his own kids and grandkids, but he always helped us.”

“He sounds fun.”

“He introduced me to your dad.” Clarke cocked her head and paused their walk, making Lexa flustered at the admission. “I mean. Not in person. But this was back when your dad was coaching, and he won three years in a row. Mr. Nash dug out old games and I watched him play. He was… It was amazing. I would practice moving like him.”

“How’d you figure out he was my dad?”

“Pictures on your… you know. I saw him and I got so mad at fate,” she chuckled.

“So this has been about twenty years in the making?” Clarke laughed with her.

“Cosmic long game,” she agreed. “Is that why you don’t date soccer players? Grew up around them?”

“No, most were fine,” she shrugged. “All it takes is one though. A rookie jerk who broke my heart. Swore them off after him.”

“Was he as good as me?”

For a moment, Clarke considered it and wanted to tease, but she could see the genuine curiosity. They stood on the corner and waited for a light to change despite there being no traffic at all, as if they waited, and time would wait, too.

“He’s rubbish,” Clarke finally admitted. “But I doubt anyone is as good as you.”

“You’d have to watch more than one game to know that though.”

“My dad said you were the best he’s seen. I trust his expert opinion.”

“He said… You mean. Wait,” Lexa stopped walking as Clarke continued. “Jake Griffin said I was-- Clarke! Wait! You have to tell me every word he said.”

With a shake of her head, the daughter of Lexa’s hero rolled her eyes and waited for the soccer player to catch up.

“Sorry,” Lexa swallowed and blushed, averting her eyes from Clarke’s as she finally slid into the bench that they found by the bridges. She handed over a cup of coffee and a little paper bag with some breakfast in it.

Clarke had already mocked her from afar as she got stuck taking pictures with a few apparent fans before entering the café across the street. She gave herself the five minutes they were separated to really think about what she was doing, about how she’d suddenly spent six hours walking around the city with this perfect stranger who was delightfully rambly and perfectly kind and decent and too obsessed with bad movies.

“It’s cute. That little girl was so happy to see you,” Clarke promised as the soccer player sat down.

They sky was grey, was quiet and not really worried with waking, though the streets picked up, the foot traffic growing as the inevitable buzzing of alarm clocks woke the world despite the two who sat on the bench as if they had nowhere else to go.

All down the river, barges pushed and boats moved as much as they could, their pace leisurely and undeterred. Across the water, on the other bank, businesses and buses billowed up and hummed along, as the volume began to be turned up.

“She reminded me of Mia.”

“When do you get to see her again?”

“My sister is bringing her husband and Mia for the playoffs and such, if we make it. Probably in the spring,” she grinned and took a sip of her own coffee. “I’m so excited. I’m going to take her to see a castle and she’ll watch me play.”

“I wonder which she’ll like more.”

“The castle, definitely. She gets bored at my games,” Lexa chuckled, carefully tearing a piece of muffin from inside her bag.

For the morning, right there in the middle of town, as the city woke up and the world failed to realize they were missing, the two just talked, just sat and talked and were anything but what they always were, which was alarmingly refreshing and terribly addicting.

Lexa was already terribly fond of the way Clarke used her hands to explain things. She kind of liked her eyes, too. There was also that terrible problem of her damn lips and how much she wanted to kiss them, but she refused to think about that for too long.

“You still never explained the blind date things,” Clarke pressed, cocking her head slightly. She felt Lexa stretch out her long legs and adjust closer. “That your teammates were determined to set you up on,” she explained when she earned a cocked head.

“Oh! Oh. Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “I um. You know. I guess. I just. They said I was too serious. I needed something outside of work.”

“And none of them stuck?”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Lexa decided. “Now. How do I get around this No Footballers rule you’ve enacted?”

“Switch jobs.”

“There is a pretty significant clause in a pretty ironclad contract that would forbid that,” she wagered. “What if I just promise to never cheat on you and win the championship.”

“Just a championship?” Clarke pfft’d.

“What else can I do?”

It was hopeful and eager, but Lexa meant it. She’d probably try to set a record for goals in a single game if Clarke asked her to, because this girl. This girl.

“I’ll try to think of something.”

The grin that came was mesmerizing and catching. Lexa leaned back and felt Clarke’s shoulder against her own, and she smiled too.

There kept being reasons to not leave each other. There was drinks, and then a walk, and then coffee, and then breakfast, and then slowly meandering toward the closest apartment. But the reasons were dwindling and time was happening despite their insistence that it stop.

The day opened up and early morning dawn became full morning, became traffic and people in suits and two very out of place and sleepy wanderers amidst the chaos of structured society. Lexa just wanted Clarke to hold onto her arm again, like she had the night before, because that was something. Clarke just wanted to stop smiling so much and trying to memorize Lexa’s voice and how her laugh started, soft and deep in her lungs before making it to her lips.

They debted movies. They argued about home. They complained about the future. They mourned the past. They offered assurances and guesses based on just a few hours and a gut instinct. They joked and teased and flirted and forgot what it meant to be part of reality.

But nights end. Days start. Lives happen.

“This is me,” Clarke finally stopped in front of her building. The stadium and the park poked itself out just a few blocks away. Lexa almost recognized the place.

“I. Uh.” Lexa took a deep breath and fidgeted in her pockets again. “This was fun. I had a good time.”

“Better than fine?”

“Much better than fine,” she nodded. “Would it be terrible to ask your number?”

“You don’t want to let fate decide any longer?”

“Listen, you can’t trust fate too much. It’s just a nudge. You make your own luck,” Lexa explained, the self-appointed expert on the subject.

Intense eyes searched her, debated, and Lexa felt very small under eyes like that, very raw and very open. But she stood a bit straighter and she tilted her chin up, ready to fight.

“I can’t believe I’m going to break my no soccer players rule for you,” Clarke sighed and dug in her pocket for some kind of paper. She pulled out a single dollar from the night before and wrote on it.

“I’m going to use this to ask you on a date,” Lexa explained as she looked at it and asked permission once again. “Just so you know. You don’t have to give it to me if you’re uncomfortable with that.”

“I wouldn’t be giving it to you for any other reason.”

“Summer magic, huh?” she grinned, shoving the bill into her pocket.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Still, neither wanted to move. Not even when the door opened and a neighbor came out, carefully shuffling past them on the steps. Both simply leaned over the railing and let her scootch past.

“I should let you go on then,” Lexa nodded to herself.

Before she could register it, she felt arms around her neck and a big kind of hug strangling her. Her own hands remained at her side for a moment before she could translate what was happening. Clarke’s chest was on her chest, her arms were strong around her neck, her cheek was pressed against her own, and all across her body, Lexa felt her. She smiled into Clarke’s shoulder and closed her eyes, taking a big breath of that memory.

“Thank you for giving fate a nudge,” Clarke whispered.

“Anytime.”

Clarke untangled herself and made her way up the steps while Lexa remained there at the bottom one, fiddling with the new dollar bill in her pocket, overjoyed and unsure what to do with it. Bashfully, she waved as Clarke gave her a final goodbye. Tired as the soccer star was, she glided all the way home.

NEXT

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, February 22-Sunday, February 23

BUFFY: Right. Of course, as usual there's something wrong with Buffy. She came back all wrong.You know, I didn't ask for this to happen to me. SPIKE: Not too put off by it though, are you? BUFFY: No! Maybe because for the first time since ... I'm free. Free of rules and reports ... free of this life. SPIKE: Free of life? Got another name for that. Dead.

~~Gone~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Displacement (Crossover with Star Wars, NR) by LittleRaven

Different Kinds of Flight (Crossover with Captain Marvel, T) by silveradept

London (Giles, G) by kiefercarlos

In Shock (Spike, T) by Criccieth

Us vs the World (Buffy/Spike, G) by Ultra

Keep Her (Crossover with Marvel, NR) by Whedonista93

Lurking (Buffy/Angel, K) by SmithJessie62

A Trip to the Store (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by MaggieLaFey

[Chaptered Fiction]

Chaos Continued, Chapter 84 (Giles/Ethan Rayne, T) by Jaspergirl

Maybe It's Just Me, Chapter 7 (Willow/Tara, M) by mmmh_hot_sauce

6 days to air, Chapter 7 (Crossover with South Park, E) by Fridgexoxo

Permission, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, G) by EllieRose101

Wilderness, Chapter 6 (Willow/Tara, NR) by onebuttoneye

Mix Tape, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, E) by VmpyricRose

Yvette, the Vampire Slayer, Chapter 6 (Crossover with Castlevania, G) by TheSovereigntyofReality

Full Fathom Five, Chapter 6 (Crossover with Supernatural, NR) by Authoressinhiding

A Day A The Office, Chapter 4 (Crossover with Jake 2.0, T) by Rod

The Immortal's (sweet) Revenge, Chapter 2 (Crossover with Torchwood, M) by elisi

Unexpected, Chapter 2 (OC, T) by coldhandswarmheart494

Maybe It's Just Me, Chapter 7 (Tara/Willow, T) by mmmh-Hot-Sauce

Sweet El Paso, Texas, Chapter 9 (Buffy/Spike, R) by rkm

Wonderful Tonight, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Miss Marisol

Another New Man, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, R) by All4Spike

Kindred, Chapter 23 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by sweetprincipale

Arpeggios from Hell, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Axell

LA is the Hell You Make It, Chapter 29 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by Touchstoneaf

Trust Misplaced, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, R) by landapanda

Stranger, Take My Helping Hand, Chapter 20 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Cosmic Tuesdays

Bygone Days, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Ginger

The Night When Everything Went Black, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, R) by tbd

The Key is Donnie Summers, Chapter 19 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Girlytek

Episode 100 - The Gift (worksafe) by Buffyverse Poetry

[Fandom Discussions]

man i love the episode titling in season six by impalementation

was thinking about the fact that willow coughs up a snake in bargaining by impalementation

do you ever think about how Anya latches on to her relationship with Xander... by bidet-of-evil

Would you have forgiven Wesley? by MarieVampSlayer

Discussion of 2.13 "Happy Anniversary" - Aired 2/6/2001 (WB-US) by Flannen

Did Fred ruin the show? by nightshade

Old EW interview with Joss Whedon by Btvs fan

Nix Arty Bits! by Nix

Pop Culture References in Buffy & Angel by Buffy Summers

Why didn’t Buffy killed Drusilla in crush by Benz

Nicholas Brendon Trial Starts Friday by Kayrcee

Does anyone wish Cordelia stayed on Buffy? by Benz

Do you find Spike attractive? by Bluebird

What was Tara studying? by nightshade

Where are they now? by nightshade

Characters You're Too Harsh On vs Characters You're Too Easy On by RachM

It finally happened guys! by delinquentsaviors

Does Willow finish moving on in the comics? by yodude4

Enjoying a classic episode in honor of my new apartment - even the Gentlemen approved of my choice. by Saint-Huntress

limited editionI hope are you like it by Samuel-Wilson584

Rather than a reboot, how would you feel about a Buffy reunion with the original cast? by Cat-mommie

Buffy vs Angel by beeboppee

Favourite moments/interactions/trivia from comic cons? by AgressiveAnalysis1

Just rewatched Restless, captivating every time by limbsakimbo_

Any other Buffy/Angel diehards that don't own a single bit of merchandise? by anothername1145

Finished Buffy a few weeks ago and moved on to Charmed, and I think the differences in the way they handle “exposure” are very interesting. by inkcakeandtelevision

Buffy and Xander were supposed to end up together? by AgressiveAnalysis1

Xander in I Was Made to Love You by AgressiveAnalysis1

Willow and should be able to fight vampires better than they do onscreen by Jacob_wallace

What was Darla's nationality? They never said by jdpm1991

My buffy collection may not be huge, but it is pretty awesome. by Elle_Sabotta

I'm losing interest in this show by JasonFuckBoyDean

Lornette Fred by deadinhollywood

Buffy reviews on YouTube by Havefuncinema

Professor Maggie Walsh was supposed to be the big bad for S4 by barre_chord_reality

I Like the Annoying One by Moon_Logic

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PODCAST: Charismatic Vampires by Sci Fi Fidelity

PUBLICATION: Buffy The Vampire Slayer: The 10 Most Annoying Things Xander Ever Did via Screen Rant

PUBLICATION: Family Guy, Tasers and cooking millionaires – what Buffy The Vampire Slayer cast did next via Infosurhoy

[kevoreally]

#BuffyAt20 - S03E09 “The Wish”

Okay, so the irony is that I actually did this #BuffyAt20 a week EARLY so I wouldn't post it late. Then vacation got away from me. Oops. I'm doing this for free, go easy on me. Anyway, here it is! Onward we roll through 'Buffy' Season 3 with a true classic - "The Wish"! So many iconic aspects to this episode. Let's dive right in!

> Okay, I’ve been giving Cordelia a pretty hard time this season, and here is her centric episode. Let’s see how this goes…

> NRRRF!

> This squddly demon is so extra.

> “Isn’t he gonna go poof?” Love it

> Oh Xander, you’re really going to be Indignant Guy right now? Eesh.

> “Your logic does not resemble our Earth logic” - a line I use a lot

> Wow, did Xander just acknowledge Buffy’s emotional trauma from Angel in a positive and non-snarky way? It’s almost like growth.

> This shot of Cordy burning the pictures in a bowl was manipulated in the commercial to make it look like her wish was a spell, I don’t know who else remembers that.

> I think it’s that, no matter how melodramatic the show becomes at times, the theme song reminds you of what it is at heart: a light, fun, camp take on horror. It really sets the tone for the show and anchors it to that theme - ha, theme, double-meaning.

> I love Willow saying Amy saw Cordy at the mall, using a recurring character and refreshing our memory on them right before they come back in 2 episodes.

> Wait - why does the whole school know Xander cheated? Unless Cordelia said something, there’s literally no reason for anyone to know outside of the Scooby Gang. THAT’S BIZARRE.

> Do love the Jonathan cameo, though.

> Seriously, Oz is the best character that ever existed on this show so far. How is that possible? I better never see a Buffy remake that removes Oz, y’all. Just make him gay too or something, IDK, lol.

> The “do I have something caught in my teeth?” ploy is still awkward and dumb twenty years later, good to know.

> Okay, but is John Lee really that scummy compared to anything Cordelia has done over the last 43 episodes?

> “a good luck charm my dad gave me” says Anya, aka: D’Hoffryn! :D

> It’s wild seeing Cordelia interact with the character who would BIZARRELY end up almost marrying Xander. Like, it’s SO WILD thinking about the things they never imagined at this point in time.

> Buffy is another one whose emotional maturity is really knocking me out right now, that she’s sympathetic to Cordelia’s plight.

> Gosh, I miss 1998.

> It’s weird to me that there’s time for this “we can’t touch hands stuff” in the same episode as Bizarro Sunnydale. How is there TIME?

> Wait - do we even see Normal Giles in this episode?? Or is it all Bizarro Giles?

> Buffy’s “sneaky” stake toss when the Cordettes walk by after she kills the vamp is hysterical.

> That cut where Cordelia says her problem is Buffy Summers is SO AWKWARD.

> Yeah, we’re 15 minutes into a 45 minute episode - there’s a full 30 minutes in Bizarro Sunnydale. That makes more sense.

> I WAS RIGHT, apart from I think a few seconds at the end we don’t see Normal Giles in this episode once! Huh!

> “She was like… a good fairy.” Oh Cordy.

> Cordelia’s dress in this episode, the blue one, actually is bizarre. It’s like an evening gown.

> “Ted Cherviin just totally went for third with Ginger in front of everybody!” - being 12 when this aired, and also gay, I didn’t fully get what third base was yet. But now I do. And DAAAAAMN!

> This teacher is actually kind of hot, what’s his deal…

> Cordelia is talking SO LOUDLY about being from another reality. Where is her head??

> Is Cordelia even slightly sad that Xander and Willow are dead, do you think? Because we don’t really get much of a reaction there.

> “My auto! El convertablo?” OMIGOD, CORDELIA.

> Wow, once again, they are getting hella use out of this Main Street set.

> Do I find Xander hot as a vampire? Hmm.

> Wow, “Bored Now” is DoppelWillow’s first words.

> DoppelWillow is sort of a refined impression of Drusilla. And that’s okay, even! Just, noteworthy.

> The White Hats was the coolest part of this episode. Oz and Larry and Nancy who would later appear in Episode 19 as a student. Holy shit. I’m not saying I hate it, just that it isn’t entirely *scary.*

> The vampire den of sin trope was already pretty tired by the time this came to Buffy, and “Dead Soul Man” didn’t do it any favors either.

> OH MAN, the Master’s return was mind-blowing.

> The Master was stuck underground for, like, 80 years, and has only been back out for barely 2, and he’s bored of hunting again? What?

> Giles’s little JUMP from the Library’s upper level is intense.

> It’s wild but this episode STARTS as Cordelia centric and then, upon her death, becomes weirdly DoppelGiles’s story? This version of Giles is the hero of this story. All would’ve been lost if he didn’t thwart Anyanka. But we’ll get to that…

> Although Giles SHOULD know that Cordelia won’t be turned into a vampire and doesn’t need to be incinerated, it is consistent with the first episode that he isn’t sure. That’s pretty interesting.

> OMigod I almost forgot Angel is “the puppy.”

> “Yes, I’m aware that there’s a great deal of demonic activity in Cleveland. It happens, you know, that Sunnydale is on a Hellmouth. It is so!” This is literally one of the funniest lines of the whole fucking show, and that Cleveland bit has always been a fan favorite joke, which is why Giles references it in the series finale.

> HOW IS ANGEL’S HAIR STILL GELLED UP AS A TORTURE SLAVE??

> He’s also, like, extra wimpy.

> I might find DoppelXander scarier than DoppelWillow.

> even in Bizarro World, Larry is kind of a misogynist and Giles has a shitty car.

> EEEY! Buffy’s back! She misses about 1/3 of the episode.

> I am always a sucker for wonky alternate timelines that need to be reset, not gonna lie…

> If Giles knows he has to destroy the power source and he has it, why isn’t he just doing it? Like, RIGHT NOW?

> This Buffy is gross.

> Buffy’s not wrong - they know where the vampires nest, they could just firebomb the place during the day.

> Aww the Caged Dude from earlier is dead now. I think they were going for dark but he could just as easily be a different white boy so it’s hard to feel that one. Should’ve been Jonathan.

> Seriously, how does Angel’s hair look like that?

> If the Master rose, didn’t the Hellmouth open? Where’d those demons go?

> Oh man - is the Master’s blood factory supposed to be THE factory?? Like, Spike and Drusilla’s? Holy shit, I don’t think I ever caught that before. I hope so!

> I’m only annoyed that Giles is doing this ritual and summoning Anyanka and all this stuff when he, like, HAD the necklace? And in later seasons, all you have to do is smash?

> WOOF, this blood machine is pretty fucking horrifying, when you really think about it. That chick is very much alive.

> HA! The Master using Xander as a shield is great.

> “your only power lies in the wishing” “WRONG” HA!

> the way Buffy stomps up to the Master is a bit… silly, haha

> this score here, “Slayer’s Elegy,” is why once again I will always love Christophe Beck.

> Wow, so even in this time like, the prophecy that the Master will kill Buffy comes to pass.

> The tiny bits of Anya in this episode really show how the writers could’ve fallen in love with her.

> Yeah, there’s Normal Giles! But only for a minute.

> OH WOW, those last 7 minutes really flew by, to be honest. This isn’t always the strongest episodes, but I definitely think there’s something special about it.

> Next up: CHRISTMAS!!!!

#Buffy #BuffyAt20 #Buffy Watch #Buffy Rewatch #Buffy Season 3 #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #The Wish #Wishverse #Anyanka