#no she's not that deep for Ava absolutely not what are you talking about

[nouvxllev]

Absolutely love your work! And was ecstatic when I found out you also did Emma myers! And you write so well!! 🥹 I don’t know if you’ll be up to this, so don’t feel the need I know your probably a busy bee. But I wanted to know since you do Emma myers, if you’d be willing to to do a cc Walker aged up fic, maybe where cc is in college, and she’s in a relationship with reader (I absolutely loved your jealous Tara fic) but I was wondering if you could do cc, but make it a little more soft, and possessive? Like Cc is more afraid that reader will leave her? And just soft smut? (Sapphic of course) if not then I understand. I also wanted to know if once A good girls guide to murder comes out, will you be doing pop x reader? Because Emma is so cute as pip! ❤️❤️

would it kill you to look at me instead?

Pairing: CC Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!

Words: 5k (i was not expecting that damn)

Warnings: soft smut, slight angst. actually idk if its cut out to be angst, possessive cc aaaaaaa, author forgot how to actually write good stories

a/n: thank you so so sooo much!!!! and i was absolutely in love with agggtm when i read the book (i even got the whole series on my bookshelf!) so ofc ill be doing a pip x reader soon. hope i got to your expectations, anon.

masterlist.

"CC, what's up with you?"

Ava trailed after her, CC's shoes skittering along the hallway like some kind of menace, the slam of her door from her dorm was still echoing in Ava's ears.

Despite having just finished training five minutes ago, CC's steps were quick. Like they were avoiding any sort of conversation, she didn't even know why or where she was going.

"CC, please, you haven't even talked to me in a week!" Ava caught up to her, nearly tackling the girl to keep pace with her steps.

"Okay, what?" The blonde turned around abruptly, wind catching in her hair. She almost could roll her eyes if not for Ava being the sweetest being on this earth. "What, for fucks sake, what is so wrong with me?"

"That." She gestured using her pointer finger while the shorter girl pulled her lips into a thin line, "You keep snapping at everyone, and you've been staring daggers at the squad all week. It was mild at first, but now you look like you want to bury them in front of their families."

Ava leaned in further, squinting her eyes as she crosses her arms, "...Also you have these deep eyebags under your eyes."

CC's shoulder slumped, letting out an heavy sigh while her eyes closed. It burns, burns like fucking hell.

"I—"

Ava jumped forward, her eyes furrowing almost immediately, "Don't say because of exams since you're doing pretty good in terms of academics. You're even top in your classes."

"Well, fine. It's—"

"Don't say soccer too because I know your eyebags only come out of hiding when it's tournament or championship season."

"Okay, Wyatt—"

"Yale is like a million miles from us, CC. Also you don't even text Wyatt unless you need something."

"Well, I..." CC fidgeted under her, her head tilting left and right, "We've, my girlfriend have.... Have been fucking. Sex. Alot. Major, huge sex. Like, up and down, sideways, horizontally, transversally—"

"Alright, no," Ava pulled out her hand and stopped her, her other pinching the bridge of her nose, "Not in any universe would I want to hear about you and y/ns sex life."

CC chuckled, the only laugh she could ever muster. "Look, college's been kicking my ass lately and I'm just tired, really. Nothing to worry about." In all truth and oaths, she was.

She was tired.

For all the different reasons. Might even be petty ones.

So tired of hearing that one name—Clarissa Grey—coming out of your, admittedly so attractive, pretty mouth. She was a transferee yet she already caught your attention with a single 'hey, i'm new here, can you show me around?'

It had been five weekdays, not even counting weekends where Clarissa horribly clung onto you outside of school, of having your presence found nowhere but with that girl.

Normally, CC would spend every waking hour, if not for soccer, with you and you only. Clinging to your arms, holding your warm hands, tip-toeing to kiss your pretty lips she so adored, bringing you to the most expensive places you wanted, and most especially waking up with you in the early morning with your body sprawled atop hers.

It was bliss.

Was.

Now that CC was constantly being pulled to practice she couldn't spend as much time as she wanted with you. Meanwhile, Clarissa had you wrapped around her arms.

In short, Clarissa Grey is and will forever be a pain in the ass.

Clarissa—Insufferable, torturous, agonizing, intolerable, girlfriend-hogging—Grey.

She hated her.

Well, not hated. It's a strong word, a word she couldn't ever describe your, her forever beloved girlfriend, friends. Yet this girl got on her nerves more than ever.

And she's pretty sure this girl's been trying to get into your pants more than CC ever does after a rough game.

Clarissa was fine at first. CC wasn't those controlling partners who didn't allow their other to have friends; in fact, she was happy that you found a friend in the new transferee from across the world.

Now she felt like she was about to butcher the girl from mouth to anus if she ever so much as catching a wind of her presence of how she was constantly stealing you away from her.

CC took months just to muster a hi and introduce herself (through text mind you) and she didn't even check her phone for weeks after it. New girl did it in one damn day.

How could one even out-girlfriend a girlfriend of three years?

Now whenever it hits midnight and CC is finally in your arms all she could hear is:

"I'm so sorry baby, Clarissa made some plans for us."

"Sorry, CC. I have something to do with Clarissa on that date."

"Clarissa wanted to…"

"Baby, is it alright if Clarissa invited me to…"

"CC! Check it out, Clarissa just…

It's ridiculous and all CC could say was a simple yeah sure and a nod like she wasn't going to bash Clarissa's head in with a soccer ball.

She'd admit that even you get the end of the stick with her attention sometimes because of her first-class popularity that always seemed to stick around, but either way she felt really bad.

Jealousy was a stupid emotion which a stupid college girl, mind you, like her was stupidly experiencing. She was 19 experiencing her old 13 year old problems if she met you a bit more earlier. But who wouldn't get jealous?

She had the same interests as you, the same personality, likes the same movies as you, you both had an interest in whatever artist you were listening too.

She practically hung out with you everyday with how the both of you took the same classes and courses. The two of you were perfect on paper.

Clarissa wasn't some soccer-obssessed girl who doesn't spend her time in training for championships that you found yourself spending every second with her if CC wasn't around.

She has a great fashion sense without looking like whatever a 'teenybopper' is or someone dressed like Adam Sandlers.

She's probably great at cooking.

She kept her room impossibly clean as if it were brand new that you found impressive everytime she invited the both of you to her dorm.

She had this amazing ball of sunshine whenever she entered the room like it was a plague.

She probably followed what her mom told her to be when she gets into college.

She was pretty too. Her hair all shiny and she carried absolute grace and poise. Who wouldn't like her?

And that smile of hers? You found it nice. Charming, captivating. Even CC found it enchanting, it was all so surreal.

You liked her, most of all.

Shit.

Not that CC could ever doubt your loyalty to her; hell, she could invite every former crush and celebrity crush you had, and you wouldn't even bat a single eye towards them. You'd even try to desperately find the girl even if she wasn't in the room.

She doubted herself.

Who was she if not for you?

She just missed you. So much. It's killing her.

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"CC!" You yelled, a smile creeping up your lips as you watched her jog up the bleachers in her new shoes you bought for her as an anniversary gift, it was an understatement to say that she loved it.

You watched how her exhausted face broke into a slight smile that managed to never fail to make your heart grow a garden of flowers trying to mimic her beauty, her eyes lighting up by the mere sight of you.

When she finally reached you, she practically melted into your inviting embrace. You held her chose, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath, her exhaustion from practice matches slowly going away from being in the comfort of our arms.

You feel how her breaths gradually steadied, her heartbeat turned into its normal pace, her hands snaking up to your back while she buried her head into you, subtly peppering gentle kisses along your neck.

"Y/n..." She murmured, pulling her head away slightly and turning to the side.

Your arms stayed lingered around her waist, "Yeah, baby?"

She shook her head, eyebrows slightly knitting themselves as her gaze drifted at the seats as she inched closer to your ear, "Why... why is she here?" She squeezed your hand that was wrapped around her.

You followed her line of sight to where Clarissa sat on the bleachers right next to you, watching the players off to the side at her own time.

"Well, she wanted to come along with me," you explained with a shrug, "so I brought her here." A soft smile gracing your lips as you glanced at CC who didn't match your sunny expression.

"You guys done yet?" She looked up at the both of you, her voice was oddly monotone and disinterested. Unlike a few moments ago where she was clinging onto your arm while laughing.

You lowered your arms from CC's body as you sat beside Clarissa, gesturing to your girlfriend to slightly introduce her even if they already met a couple of times.

You didn't miss the way CC's face twisted into a grimace one as she crossed her arms, mumbling a slightly less than thrilled exclaim, "Fantastic."

"It is fine for me to cheer you on, right?" Clarissa smiled. Way too innocently at CC as if she wasn't just staring her down, the change in her tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah. Yeah sure, whatever." CC replied, albeit the response came through gritted teeth as she picked up a waterbottle that sat beside you.

Clarissa smiled, laughed even, before leaning her head against you. "We have something to go after anyways, right y/n?" She looked up at you, innocent eyes that definitely didn't mimic yours as you stuttered out a response.

"We do? I didn't—"

"Okay, no, that's—!" CC's reaction was swift, immediately pulling you closer to her side, her hand having a firm grip on your arm as her voice rose in frustration yet faltered.

CC paused, seemingly collecting herself. You turned to her, confusion etched in your face, while Clarissa had a slight tug in her lips.

"That's... perfect. Amazing," she finally managed to say, letting go of her tight grip on you before standing up. "Sorry, I really have to go, I think they're calling for me. Enjoy whatever plans the both of you have."

You hear Clarissa giggle as you watch CC walk down the steps, her waterbottle discarded onto a nearby trashcan. It wasn't even half done. "Guess she doesn't like me, huh?"

A soft sigh escape your lips, your mood officially worried and concerned about CC before turning to Clarissa, "Yeah... Yeah, sorry, we have plans?"

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Nothing could be more worrying than allowing your girlfriend CC-can't-really-monitor-her-liquor-properly-Walker attend a night party held by her teammates as some sort of 'pre-celebration' before a game.

You were already deprived out of her presence, being that you always stuck with that new girl you couldn't really find time to hang out with your girlfriend no longer than 30 minutes.

Not to mention what happened a few hours ago.

You miss her so much its tearing you apart. Unfortunately you're the book definition of a people pleaser so you took the courage to show Clarissa around for a few weeks until she got comfortable with the setting.

Most of the times CC would invite you to come along with to parties. Rejection often means she would be clinging onto your back like a koala and making out with you until the words associated with your academics disappeared from your mind.

Now she just entered the dorm, gave you a single kiss without explanation, and a simple text minutes later just stating 'ill be at a party. see you midnight xx.'

That in itself made you worried. No normal breathing CC Walker would ever use perfect grammar or would her be's or you's spelled correctly without any missing letters.

So imagine your surprise when she arrived two hours before twelve. Wasted and slightly teary-eyed, her pretty eyes avoiding looking at your direction. It was an understatement that the sight broke your heart.

"CC?" You rushed to her side almost immediately, ignoring the concerns of the amount of tasks you had on your desk.

You were met with silence. "CC, baby, are you alright? Did something happen?" you asked softly, "love, hey, look at me." You reach out to steady her as she swayed on her feet more and more in her intoxicated state until she reached her bed.

She shrugged off your touch, feeling a nagging sting in your heart that burned a void inside of you. You watched as she mutter something unintelligible under her breath, gritting her teeth as she stared at the ground.

"CC, talk to me." You carefully sat with her against your bed, fetching her the water that has been sitting on your desk, tilting your head to get her attention.

Her head turned to you, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her pretty eyes that you adored were almost teary-eyed, "Would it kill you to look at me instead, y/n?"

"CC..." you tilted your head, your eyebrows furrowing, "CC... what? What are you talking about?"

"Why are you always with her? Clarissa?" Her name almost felt like poison in her mouth, awaiting to be spit out in venom, "Why is she always with you when I'm not around? Why are you always looking at her even if I'm mere inches away from you?"

She shook her head before you could respond, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "It's dumb. I know you're allowed to spend time with your friends. And even more to her since she's new and everything. You could spend time with anyone and I wouldn't care but I—" She took a deep breath, "Every time I see you with her, it's like… like she's much more of a good girlfriend than me you know? Because she likes you. It's kind of clear."

You couldn't feel anything but that gruesome feeling that's eating you apart. You could feel your heart tearing your own self apart as she spoke more.

"She looks at you as if you're hers, y/n. Not to mention she's always touching you, calling you names, always going out of her way to be alone with you... I mean, she asked you out as a joke. Multiple times."

"CC I never thought…" You feel a lump forming in your throat, her words heavy on your heart that were surely more heavier on hers. "I'm sorry, CC."

You reached out to cup her cheek, her body turning to face you, your thumb gently wiping a stray tear that fell on her face. "I'm so sorry, CC. You're not losing me. You will never lose me," you whispered, "I care about you more than anything. More than I breathe. I'm so sorry I made you feel like you were losing me. You have my whole heart, my body, my very soul."

Her gaze softened slightly, you could see that familiar glint you always loved to look at when you locked eyes with her. You missed it. "Is that a promise?"

Gently, you brushed your fingers against her cheek, pressing delicate kisses to her soft skin. "Far more important than a promise. I'll keep it like an oath on my life."

You let your arms wrap around her, feeling her slumping against you, curling against herself between your arms like she was trying to drown all of her burdens for you. "I'm just afraid that you'll leave me. I'm sorry for blowing up on you. I'm sure Clarissa is great."

CC felt warm, comforting, a presence that made you feel like everything to her, how she always kept you grounded. "It's alright, CC. I've been there before, don't worry. And for the record, I'm kind of getting tired of showing her around. Just a slight bit. I'll try introducing her to some people."

CC smiled against your neck, "You don't have to ignore her completely, baby. It's fine. I think my insecurities just got the best of me."

She's as comforting as the day you met her. The comforting sense of love, how you'd wake yourself up everyday just to see her face. Even if your heart gives out, you'd work through turmoil for it to beat for her. Even if you're tired, you'd manage enough energy for her to enjoy life with you.

"I'll never let you doubt my love for you again. No one could ever replace what I'm feeling with you, no one could ever replace you. You're simply everything baby, everything that life never gave me and everything life never offered."

You press a tender kiss to her forehead before making your way to her lap, pulling her collar and capturing her lips in a soft yet deep kiss.

CC responded eagerly to your kiss, closing her eyes while she let her hands wrap around your waist as she parted her lips to invite yours in as her tongue slipped between them.

With a low groan of ecstasy, you welcomed her intrusion, your own tongue fighting with hers yet you surrendered almost immediately, every touch of her in on your body sent shivers down your spine, leaving you craving for more of her.

You could feel her hands sliding under your shirt, the simple warmth of her touch, how her fingers glided smoothly against your skin and trailing to your chest was like reassurance that you were wanted and loved by her, how you were only hers.

"Baby…" you managed to murmur between her assaulting kisses that only seemed to spur her on as you went limp on her body, "have I ever told you I love the way you talk..."

You couldn't help but grin at the soft chuckle that escaped her pretty lips at your words, her kisses only growing more fervent as CC pressed herself against you all while she looked up at you with those eyes, waiting for you.

"The way you smile…" you trailed off, tugging at her shirt, tracing your fingers along her jawline, "the way you get jealous, the way you get so competitive sometimes, the way you look so lovely every waking moment, it's intoxicating."

You kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her lips as you softly bit at her bottom lip, your voice turning husky and needy with desire, "Most importantly, I love the way you fuck me into your bed every night. You know no girl could drive me insane like what you're doing to me right now."

You didn't miss how CC's breath hitched at your words, how her eyes darkened with desire almost immediately as she pulled you by the collar of your shirt and flipped the both of you around. her hands roaming all over your body as she mumbled to her breath.

"I want you," she pleaded, "I need you, y/n, please." It wasn't a question, she needed this.

You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her close, feeling the heat of her body on top of yours as you mumbled a weak 'yes.'

CC took her time in showering you with the amount of kisses she wanted to give you, offering everything you needed with tenderness you never thought existed, the special attention that she always showed to you, worshipping every inch of your body.

She looked up at you, noticing the way your eyes closed, uncertain of whether it was out of pure bliss or discomfort. "Y/n, is this okay?", she asked softly, squeezing your hand that laid off to the side.

That was the thing about CC that you always adored, how she took the time to make sure you were comfortable in whatever she was doing. Whether she was rough or not, she was still so gentle with you, treating you as if you were porcelain about to break.

In the span of three years, her sweet and caring nature never faded no matter how much time you'll be spending time with her. She was the sweetest girl that only you knew.

You smiled at her, "Yes, CC, everything is okay. Just remind me of how much I'm yours to handle."

She nodded before returning to her usual, pulling up your shirt until it was completely off your body, "You're always so gorgeous…" She whispered against your skin, pressing her lips on your body, trailing down your chest. Each touch was gentle and tender, all just for you to feel cherished.

"I'm gonna take it off, okay, sweetheart?" CC murmured before she was lifting up your hips herself, her fingers sliding into your waistband and discarding your shorts and undergarments off to the side.

You gasped at the sudden cold air hitting your warmth as CC knelt below you to get the perfect view of your pretty pussy she so adored.

You suck a moan under her hot breath against your clit, her arms wrapping around your thighs to pull you in, "Baby, please…"

"I'll get there, pretty girl." CC whispered, taking soft licks of your juices, lapping them as she inched a little further into your warmth, groaning against you.

She looked up, watching how your body reacts with her each touch she had on you, whether she should follow your wants or what she needs to be satisfied.

She could see the flicker of pleasure in your eyes, the way your breath hitched, how you sound with every whine that elicited from your glossy lips, the way you try to cover your moans with your palm.

CC moved away, your needy whine didn't go unnoticed, her lips brushing against your wet clit before wrapping around the needy warmth and sucking gently, your body instinctively creating the perfect arch, your hips rolling into your face as you chased to get the most friction out of her mouth as she held you down by her arms.

But just as you felt nearing an orgasm, CC pulled away, only leaving you panting and wanting more.

She towered over you, spreading your legs as she leaned in closer, the sight of your juices on your lips turned you on even more.

"What do you want, baby? Tell me," she whispered, leaning in closer and planting soft kisses along your face as she waited for your answer.

"You… want you.. inside," you whispered, "want all of you, right now, please…" you moaned as the words spilled out of you in a desperate plea, discreetly rolling your hips against her thigh.

CC smiled down at you, her touch gentle and loving as her hands trailed down below to caress your soft skin before giving you what you wanted, while the other hand held up your head, showering you with praises after praises.

You kissed her back, feeling her fingers slowly inching towards your entrance that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to kiss her once again, trying to drown out your rather loud moans yet your efforts failed.

"Such a good girl, you're taking me so well..." CC praised you, smiling against your lips, "You're so pretty like this, baby. All just for me." She inserted all three fingers inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way possible.

"F-fuck! CC, please," you moaned, looking up at her as she looked right at you back, covering your mouth with only your palm. Getting caught having sex with your girlfriend at night in a literal college dorm wasn't in your applications at all.

CC, however, seemed unfazed as she panted, rolling and curling her fingers inside of your warm heat, always finding that one spot that had you seeing stars. "Are you close?" she asked, speeding up her pace.

You could only nod frantically in response, feeling a knot tightening in your stomach, "Yes, yeah, I'm close," you gasped, your body almost trembling in pleasure.

"You know, Clarissa is only a dorm away from us." She took hold of your wrists and held them high above your head, her grip still soft to touch, like she was still trying to take care of you. "You're going to scream my name. Not 'baby', not 'love', not Clarissa or whatever her name is. Not anyone."

Your eyes widened in surprise, your mouth opening to protest, but you were cut off before you could speak.

"I want everybody to hear that you're mine, especially her." She continued, her fingers pushing deep into you as you arched your back, "I want her to know how good I'm fucking you, how well you're taking every inch of me. Tell them what a good girl you are for me."

In your clouded haze, you desperately nodded with half-lidded eyes that stared back at her, your mouth half opened as she kept eliciting pathetic moans and whines from your lips.

"M' gonna cum, baby… CC, please," you whimpered, your voice strained and coming out in choked sobs, feeling the knot tightening deep inside of you. CC relentlessly pushed you closer to the edge, your back arching as she whispered praises after praises.

She released your arms from her grasp and you immediately wrap them around her neck, pulling her impossibly close to your body, her fingers thrusting deeper inside of your pussy while her thumb traced your clit in circles.

"Don't hold it, y/n. Cum for me, pretty girl, it's alright," she whispered as you brought her close to your neck, pressing one last kiss to your skin, satisfying everything inside of you with one last thrust.

You cum almost immediately after, "CC! F-fuck!" you moaned, making sure everyone can hear you. Your walls clenched around her fingers all while she still tried to pump them in and out of you, her hand slick with your cum that went nowhere but down her palm.

You wrap your legs around her waist, seeking support in her body as your own trembled in pleasure, your back arching as you gradually went down from your high, "M' all yours, CC! S-shit, you're fucking me so well!" you gasped, your words coming out in ragged breaths as you were brought to a back to back orgasm.

While you were coming down from your high, CC was already showering you with kisses all over your body, whispering sweet nothings, words of praises and adoration that automatically flowed on instinct from her lips, "I'm right here, y/n. God, you're so so so perfect."

When she felt your body begin to relax, going limp on CC, she gently withdrew from you, reaching out for a nearby stand to grab a pair of tissues. She wiped her fingers clean and gently cleaned the beads of sweat that formed on your forehead.

"You did so well, baby," she murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm so proud of you, pretty girl. I love you so much."

CC slid her arms under your body, lifting you up and placing you against the headboard, taking note of how your eyes were shut close and your breaths were slightly labored. "Y/n? Y/n, are you alright? Was I too much?"

You chuckled softly, opening your eyes to meet her gaze as she settled into your lap, her arms wrapping around you protectively. Like you'd run away and never return into her hold. Her eyes were too pretty, too full with love and care for you, almost as if you already died and went to heaven.

"You were too soft, actually." you laughed, leaning in to kiss her, tasting her natural lipgloss with the mix of your juices; an odd taste you'd say. "Is that what jealousy gets to CC Walker?"

"Definitely not," she replied almost immediately. "But seeing you with her makes me feel like I am. I needed to feel close to you, for you to feel close to me…" Her voice trailed off, her words faltering. She was always the one who talked alot about her feelings, yet it always seemed so distant and struggled.

"Well, you're not really mine mine since, of course, you don't really belong to anybody. Hell, even I don't own you and no one should think that! But you know I just—"

You reached up to cup her cheek as you cut her off, your thumb brushing lightly against her skin, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

"Oh, you know a girl batting her eyes at me won't change the way I feel about you. That's completely ridiculous," you reassured her. "You're always going to be my top 1. You have my birthday on your jersey for fuck sakes, who couldn't say no to that?"

Her lips curved into a smile, a relief expression is what you'd assume. "Guess you've brought up a solid argument," she laughed, leaning into your touch. "I'll run you a bath, okay?"

"I'll come with," you were already trying to stand up until CC pushed you back down.

"As... a trophy winner of an international soccer team, I suggest you lie back down. Maybe watch a couple of movies or two and let me do the taking care part." She leaned on your forehead and walked to the shower, already gathering your clothes and towel.

You sat up from the bed, a stupid smile across your face as you watched this girl do everything for you. Oh, the way she was so sweet for you was unbelievable. "Don't you need a degree for me to believe you?"

"Yeah!" She yelled across the room, "But I am your girlfriend and you believed me when I said I almost quit soccer because of a shoulder injury when in actuality it was my mom. So." She shrugged, already entering the shower and turning on the faucet before returning back to you.

"You're simply awful." You smiled as you watch her come back with a water and her laptop. "I love you." You say as you kiss her forehead.

"I love you too. So much." She smiled, "but one thing." She sat beside you, rising up a blanket to cover your naked body as she waited for the bathtub to fill. "You have to promise me that you'll keep your eyes on me. And me only."

"Still on Clarissa?"

"Unfortunately so."

You chuckle. "Then, I promise on my life that I'll keep my eyes only for CC Walker. And CC Walker only."

"Forever?"

"Forever and Always."

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a/n: this is longer than i anticipated it to be

#emma myers x reader #emma myers x y/n #emma myers x yn #emma myers x you #cc walker x you #cc walker x reader #cc walker x yn #family switch #emma myers

[theworldofotps]

Hand Necklace (Drabble Prompt)

Pairing: Damian Priest x FemReader Word Count: 738 Prompt: "You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Here you go anon thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy it and don't mind the little spin I put on it. ______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred9​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _____

“I fucking hate him.”

Slamming your suitcase shut, you shook your head in frustration as Rhea packed up her toiletries bag. You know coming to Damian’s best friend about him probably wasn’t the best idea; but Rhea was your friend too and hopefully she’d be able to give some advice.

“You know I never did understand why you two don’t get along I mean I’ve seen people hate each other but you two are on a completely different level. What’s up with that?”

“He drives me crazy! Always with his little snide remarks, how he thinks I should be extra wrap yourself in bubble wrap careful because I’m smaller than him I may get hurt than where would I be. And it’s always remarks about how I annoy him plus the millions of other things.”

Rhea listened to you animatedly talking an amused smile crossing her face, she knew something that you and Damian probably didn’t yet. The two of you had some major sexual tension and she had even spoken with a Finn about it who readily agreed. The way you and Damian were constantly bickering and trying to one up the other with words. She truly believed deep down it was because you guys had some hidden feelings.

“I just really want to hit him, preferably over the head with a chair.”

“Maybe you both need to get laid, work off your frustration through sex not fighting each other.”

Hearing the words out of the Aussie woman’s mouth had you stopping in your tracks mouth agape as you looked at her.

“No way could I sleep with Damian are you kidding me? He’s so…well you know and just absolutely could never happen.”

“Babes, I never said sleep with Damian I just said the two of you need to get laid but it’s very interesting you automatically assume I meant sleep with him.”

She smirked causing your face to heat up as you zipped your case shut and pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t even think about spinning any narratives Ripley I mean it I will kick your ass.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Rhea winked, walking over when a knock sounded on the locker room door. Stepping back, you frowned when Damian stepped past her his eyes zeroing in on you.”

“Sorry didn’t realize you were busy with..her I can just come back.”

“No, it’s fine I just need to get something from Becks why don’t you wait here and then we can head out.”

Without giving either of you a chance to respond Rhea quickly left slamming the door behind her. Huffing, you went about collecting the rest of your things, doing your best to ignore Damian which wasn’t an easy feat.

“Are you going to just stand in the way or sit the fuck down?”

You asked, trying to slip past him to grab your phone charger Damian continued to block your way and when you looked up you were startled to see his eyes were darker than normal.

“Why don’t you try asking nicer?”

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?”

Pushing past him you picked up your charger and freeze when he spoke again.

“Bend over and I will.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening as you slowly turned to look at him, a brow raised.

“Excuse me?”

Slowly he walked over to you and watched as you backed up right into the wall a smirk crossing his face as he leaned closer to you.

“I said, bend over and I will.”

Gulping you clear your throat avoiding his gaze.

“No thanks I’d rather be hit by a car.”

“How long are we going to play this game princesa?”

“What game?”

“The one where we pretend to hate each other when deep down I think we both know we want nothing more than to fuck each other.”

His voice had dropped to a low whisper that had your thighs clenching as he leaned close. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder then pulled back tilting his head a few times.

“What?”

“Just thinking and you know what? You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Your eyes widen as his hand captured your neck and his lips crashed into yours a hot needy kiss that left you both panting for air and heated with desire.

“My hotel room, 208 soon as you get there.”

“Okay…I’ll be there.”

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest fanfic #prompt drabble #enemies to lovers

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Twenty-Seven

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking, online bullying, serious mental health issues.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

❗❗ author’s note: This chapter includes serious mental health situations in the past of a character, involving in this case voluntary treatment in a mental facility. Treatment for Depression, Anxiety, and Grief Counselling. Please beware of these potential triggers. I am in no way a medical professional writing this.❗❗

an2: finished editing last night, so you are getting this baby EARLY, going to try and be back to my usual schedule! Now.. concerning this part.. *hides*

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram @sunsshinesunny @malerieee

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

Talia took in a surprised breath when Chris said he’d been committed. She would never in her life say that she thought he was the type, because who in their mind was the type, was she the type? No. No one was a person she could look at and think, oh, that would be someone she for sure thought should end up in an institution at some point in their life. She would absolutely hate herself if she did. Even the people who talked to themselves didn’t deserve to be thought of that way, they were people who were in desperate need of help, not people who needed to be judged like that, it was cruel. Still, at that moment, knowing what she did already, she was lost.

She glanced from Chris to Ricky, unsure of what to think, and saw the concerned expression passed between them, Rick reached for Chris’ hand, and she swallowed slightly, her soulmate tattoo tingling, but it wasn’t upsetting, it was… she wasn’t sure how she’d describe the feeling. When did she start categorising them? Pleased.. Whatever was driving these feelings, it was pleased.. Seeing him comfort his friend, seeing this side of him, was that it, was it pleased, this, the bond between them. She watched, staying quiet as they spoke softly, whispering, not wanting to interfere, but hearing whispered words, knowing they weren’t for her though.

“Are you sure..”

“She’s bound to find out-”

“But-”

“Rick, I know you’re worried, I get it, but I trust her.”

As Chris’ whispered explanation of why he should tell her to Ricky continued, Talia chose to purposely pushed them from her mind. She didn’t want to be unworthy of that trust, unworthy of her friendship with Chris, because with how close they had gotten, he meant the world to her. He had become more important to her than he could possibly know, and it, and the thought that he was willing to trust her with something so personal like this.. Looking down at her hands, trying not to think about the fact that she’d just trusted them with something that she’d not spoken of out-loud about since she’d left the facility, to anyone. Not even Ava.

She should tell her the truth, she should tell all her friends and hope that they won't hate her for hiding it from them for so long. Taking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment to ground herself, before letting it out slowly, just grounding herself for a moment while the boys sorted themselves out. Chris’ voice, clear and no longer whispering, brought her back.

“You okay, JellyBean?”

Chris looked across the table, whispering with Risky, semi-arguing with him about the validity of telling her the whole story about everything that had happened. Rick didn’t understand why he had to tell her, when part of the reason his life was as peaceful as it was from stalkers and shit these days, was that no one outside the immediate band and crew that we trusted implicitly, knew. The thing was, he wasn’t sure he could explain it to Ricky, but even though he’d only known her for a short time, he did trust her, especially after hearing what they’d just heard.

This was a woman who has had her soul bond ripped open by not only her own flesh and blood family, whom she could no longer trust, but strangers that her family put their trust in more than her, and she still came out fighting to keep going. He’d seen her over this past week, sitting in that café, laughing, and smiling, and was the most wonderfully sweet person, even after what she’d been through. Yes, he trusted her, because, above all she was right here, sitting with her soulmate, she didn’t give in, she didn’t give up. Well, some might say she did, but she didn’t do that because of the doctors, she did that because of a fucked up stalker that tipped the scales just a little bit too far, and frankly, Chris got it now. The day Talia had seen Ricky with Grace, had seen them together, and seen what she thought him to be, happy, he more than understood why she took that giant step back and didn’t fight against it. When someone you were destined to love was happy, all you wanted, was that happiness for them.

When Talia’s eyes opened and met his and a soft smile curving across that beautiful face, Chris returned it,

“There she is, are you okay? We don’t have to talk about this if it’s going to be too much?”

And yet it was Chris’ hand that Ricky was squeezing slightly, his fingers tight, he knew how he got about the whole thing, if he only knew lately.. If he only knew.

“I’m okay, Chris, are you?”

He nodded slightly in response to her worry, just keeping his gentle smile.

“Yes, but I should really start from the beginning, it’s a bit of a story, some of which you probably know, but not everything. Are you okay with that?”

Hearing everything, Chris didn’t want to put this all on her, it had been an intense day, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to take the weight of his story on top of it at the same time. However, before he had much time to worry about whether she was going to have a hard time with the situation, she was shifting her chair along the table so she could reach for his other hand, a comfort from both of them, his fingers curving around her delicate ones.

“As long as you’re comfortable, Chris, I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile growing at the thought, squeezing both of their hands gently,

“Well, you probably know I was in a long-term relationship, we were engaged, wedding planning, had a date set.. Venue booked.. Her dress was picked out and being altered, it was..”

He sighed remembering, looking down at the table, just finding a spot on the wood, barely paying attention to the fact that neither of them had let go of his hands, but at the same time, his fingers were clinging to theirs a bit tightly. Chris needed the touch not to get lost in the memories, for in more ways than one, which he knew she’d understand. 

“It’s common knowledge in the fan base that she wasn’t my soulmate, but neither of us cared, we loved each other, and wanted to be together.. At least that's what I thought, how we felt at the time.”

Chris shook his head slightly, this wasn’t even the hardest part to talk about, but it all lead to why he’d been committed, because if he just said the little bit at the end, it didn’t tell close to the full picture.

“A few weeks before we were meant to be married, a woman claiming to be my soulmate turned up, her tattoo was perfect, a fake, but perfect, so she thought. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate, I proved it easily, I’d laid out false trails for my soulmate tattoo years ago. Where it was, what it was, how big it was, she was not my soulmate.”

He felt Ricky’s hand squeeze his firmly, he knew, Ricky had been through all of this with him, he’d had to deal with the whole debacle as well, and now again with Grace on a whole different level. Chris felt for Rick, because hiding his tattoo was so much worse for him than Chris, at least his could go under his shirt most days, there was a reason that there wasn’t very many shirtless photographs out there of him in the world. Those that there are, he’d covered in paint and makeup usually, so it worked for him.

“My fiancé, however, didn’t take it well, she tried to continue like it didn’t matter, but during the lead up to the wedding my fiancé became, distant. Worried about what she was thinking I tried to reassure her, I tried to help everything go as smoothly as humanly possible, but, nothing helped, nothing worked.. I loved her, and she.. A few days before the wedding she broke it off. She couldn’t handle the possibility my soulmate could turn up, and so publicly try to claim me.”

“The way she fucking said that, as if you were something for your soulmate to own.. Cunt.”

“Ricky!” Chris looked over at him, scolding him, despite the fact this was no the first time he’d heard him speak of her in such a hostile way.

“What? She was! I’m sorry Chris, but what she did was fucking shit, I get it, she was having second thoughts, but she blamed you, and how you were famous, how and your soulmate could turn up at any time. Well funnily enough, her soulmate could have turned up at any fucking time too, but she didn’t think about that, now, did she?”

Chris took in a breath, yea, that was something he’d thought about as well, and Ricky was spot on, but he didn’t want to argue about it, not in front of- oh- he looked over towards Talia as he felt her squeeze his hand again.. Seeing her nod with a small smile, she got it.

“It’s okay, Chris, he’s right.. You both had other soulmates, her putting it on yours turning up, wasn’t fair. Especially if she loved you.”

“Exactly.”

His breath was shaky as Rick agreed with Talia,

“the Story isn’t over, and Ricky knows it, so…”

A half-hearted glare at Ricky which pointedly said a silent shut up, which earned a bit of a giggle from Talia, Chris smiled as he continued. 

“After the wedding was cancelled, I hit a patch of depression, which wasn’t helped when the stalker saw an opening, and started attacking my life since her main obstacle was suddenly gone. She came at me in so many different ways, you don’t want to know, it will keep you up at night, it was, frankly, terrifying thinking about all the different things that did and could have happened, I ended up in the hospital A&E more than once because of her, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Taking in a deep breath, he didn’t want to go into detail, because it was hard enough to talk about as he was, and Ricky being here with him, and knowing he wasn’t going to be home on his own after all of this, was a fucking comfort if he was being honest.

“Eventually they caught her, we were able to keep most of it out of the press, because the stress, the pain,  had me cracking.. But, but um.. About a little over two months after I was supposed to get married.. My soulmate tattoo..”

Chris’ voice cracked, and he felt both hands almost simultaneously grip his so tightly, even if only one of them knew for certain wasn’t coming, the other could fucking guess, there was one thing everyone in the world knew happened to the tattoos without a doubt.

“It turned white.”

The moment it did, he knew his soulmate had died.

“I never even got to meet them. Never knew who they were.. And ah,” Chris heaved a deep sigh, pausing before he continued. “Because of government regulations, everyone that loses a soulmate, whether met or not, bonded or not, I had to go through the mandatory grief counselling within six months. So, I knew that with everything that was happening, there was no way that I was going to be able to handle, ah, I couldn’t handle doing the basic therapy, so, I willingly admitted myself to a private confidential inpatient care, with a NDA twist. Of course, most facilities have those included when it comes to medical patients, but I went into one specifically for those trying to stay out of the press. Not just for grief counselling, either, but also for depression and generalised anxiety.”

Chris glanced at Rick, before looking towards Talia,

“Sort of felt like therapy for the soul for me sometimes.. And Talia, I hate that what you went through was so horrible.. Because it should have never been like that.. JellyBean.. They’re supposed to help you, listen to you.. Not assume, and from the sounds of it, that's all that they did to you.”

They hadn’t helped her, they’d listened to her parents and given in to the money that talked. Taking in a deep breath as he squeezed her hand back slightly, hating that she went through something so horrific when his time in the facility had been so therapeutic in the long run. Now, now, back to the whole point of why he was telling the story in the first place, back to the point of why everything was happening. Their soulmate marks.

“Ever since I finished my treatment, I’ve been kind of fascinated by all the theories and different studies involved with the soulmate phenomenon. It is a phenomenon, because no one can fully prove or explain how or why it even exists. Not one scientist in the world, that I have found in any publication, can scientifically prove a damn thing. For all the studies, and papers, it is all theoretical.. Even what's happening to you was nothing but a proposed theory that I’d read about, until now.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics (roses) and @cafekitsune (trigger)

#motionless in white #miw #ricky olson #ricky olson fanfiction #original female character #soulmates #fanfiction #miw band #soulmate au #ricky olson fanfic #chris motionless #chris cerulli #chris cerulli fanfic #tw mental health #tw stalking #fic: every rose has its thorns

[sugarepoxy]

@leafatlaw WISH GRANTED

If we're talking jay headcannons, here are some of my favorites:

When jay laughs she usually wheezes like crazy; this prompts more laughter from the rest of the crew because of how silly it sounds

She teaches gillion about space and stars some nights on the boat and every once in a while chip joins in and tells gill about the little bits of mythology he knows surrounding them (wich he learned from finn)

She has doctor handwriting

Jay and Ava used to braid each others hair as they fell asleep, and now jay is teaching Gill how to braid his own hair

Also i have A TON of headcannons for gill and chip, so here are some of those too:

Chip makes up outrageous lies when people ask how he got any of his scars

The way Arlin laughs rubbed off on chip and his laugh is also really hearty and deep-ish

Chip burnt all of his fingerprints off on a dare

Chip's handwriting is chickenscratch and almost completely illegible

Chip is VERY prone to laughing and gigglin. Half the time his gigglin is what gives him away when hes doing stealthy crime

Gill learned swears from Chip

Gill is SUPER attached to his hair and refuses to cut it because in the undersea he was forced to keep it chin length

Gill has long and sharp nails, almost like talons

Gill has scars that have been on him for ages, like since he was 10 years old

Gill can't write or read common, and jay and chip are trying to teach him

common is gill's second language, primordial being his first

Gill has aphantasia

Gillion learned rhythm and beats and basic music concepts from edyn before the elders stopped him from seeing her. In his training, gill would try and move/attack to a beat he made up in his head. He would constantly daydream about music and make up different tunes in his head

Gill is always unknowingly tensed up as his "relaxed" position

And finally, here are some NPC headcannons:

Niklaus gets ahold of the anti-Niklaus propaganda and he PROUDLY shows it off in his pocket dimension. Like he even makes "say no to Niklaus" merch for himself

Ollie still has stretch marks from when he big

Jay, chip, and queen workshop with gillion and make little tunes and shanties in their downtime

Edyn is EXTREMELY fucking tall. She absolutely towers over everyone

Ollie weaves and he makes bracelets out of handmade beads and he draws and he fills up sketchbooks with little doodles of himself and his mom and the pirates and his mom hangs his drawings up on the fridge. He also has a small business of making baskets for townsfolk in zero (sorry abt the run on sentence in this one lmao)

Ollie loves to braid his hair because the captains taught him how

I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS MASS AMOUNT OF BRAINROT :D i love when people ask abt my headcannons so i took the opportunity and RAN

#jrwi #jrwi riptide #jrwi show

[miss-inkwell]

Abbott Finale Thoughts

Oh. My. God. This episode was stressful but beautiful at the same time. It confirmed everything I thought when it came to them while also stressing me out when it came to their relationship. It starts off with them being as cute as ever with her asking him what he's packing. I love how they've grown to be this casual around each other and she loves to be with him.

Gregory also loves being with her I absolutely love that he takes her recommendations seriously. That's boyfriend material right there it's so romantic he doesn't just like her he wants to know her.

This is also the first time they've done an interview together which I definitely think is significant to their relationship because it just shows how close they are. I feel like at that moment and several moments throughout this season it has shown that their rhythm was back and they're closer than ever despite the awkwardness from before

Sadly it hit a snag when Maurice showed up. I will admit while he wasn't wrong that it was a bit selfish to dump him like that it was unnecessary and mean to call her out like that. Did he really need to come down just to say that?! Especially when he's ghosting girls ugh it doesn't matter if he texted her back he still made her feel like she was awful! Someone said on Twitter that allowing someone to love her and shoe deep affection for her is a trigger with how she grew up and what Maurice told her caused her to self- sabotage. That's a lot and very true she wasn't shown a lot of that growing up and it's honestly scary. She had one boyfriend for most of her life where she essentially took care of him and wasn't really loved and now she's spiralling thinking all she'd do in a relationship is hurt someone

This definitely affects Janine and makes her think she hasn't made a lot of progress this year which isn't true her growth is amazing! I'm so sad for her that she doesn't want to pursue things with Gregory because she doesn't want to hurt him but I get it. It also show how much she values her friendship with Gregory which is so wholesome

Gregory can of course tell something's wrong immediately because he knows her and that just warms my heart. I loves that he thought one of his kids a game just so that she could hug her hoping she'd love that. It's the little things with them the things they do for each other because they get each other

I was screaming at the fact that he wanted to stay in Philly for the summer to be with her! He wants to be wherever she is but she doesn't want to hurt him so she's being distant with his suggestion my heart hurt

I love that Jacob and Gregory's friendship is evolving and how he was the biggest supporter for Teddie he just wants him to go for it. Good on him for pointing out the miscommunication in their relationship it's frustrating but sadly so common with people. Talking is just hard sometimes or awkward in this case. Bro hug was so cute

Ava setting up the pairing was so like her and I love her for it also that conversation about selfishness was so important. Obviously Ava is very selfish but she was right she takes care of herself and so is Janine and sh's not really hurting anyone. It would not hurt Gregory to date him but at the same time she's not ready. Janine puts a lot of stock into being a good person that she doesn't really know that sometimes being selfish is ok. She's learning so much and I'm so proud of her

This leads to a beautiful confession that I'm still not over he said he had feelings for her!!! The best part was the second confession at the literal heart! So many things were said like how they both liked each other since he joined Abbott! I loved the cute bickering of them dating other people

This leads to my favourite line of the episode which is in the pics below. When I tell you I lost it that was so beautiful she loves him so much she's so smiley not just because she loves being a teacher buy because she loves to see him!! That is so affirming and beautiful! She loves him so much my heart cannot take it. Added to that she's recognizing that she needs to work on herself right now while also telling him he's the one!

I love that Gregory understood but you could see he was hurt he really wants to be with her oh this angst is killing me but it's sooo good

Love the second bro hug and how it was longer this time he needed that and that also shows growth I love them!

The way they glanced at each other before going to sleep only to not see each other?! It hurts so good

So the field trip is over but Janine did learn a lot she is not ready for him but she could be at some point. She's 26 and still growing to know that you're not ready to be in a relationship is very mature even if it hurts. She wants to continue her growing path which will include self love, experiencing new things with Erica and just having fun. She needs to learn how to be independent and be the best version of herself and I can't wait to see how that unfolds in season 3.

I bet that along with Janine's growth we'll also get the same small moments we've always been getting which are always great because you don't need a lot of big moments with them to show a love story. I love the crumbs because it really showcases the love they have for each other and why they're important

I could definitely tell they were both sad at the end and Gregory would not want to go with Janine to lunch if it was just the two of them because it wouldn't be a date and he wouldn't be able to handle it so now it's the trio again

I see awkwardness in their future again but I hope they stay close and no one dates anyone else. I'm looking forward to more growth, pining, funny episodes and overall a good time with Abbott in season 3. A great season finale I loved it so much!

#abbott elementary spoilers #abbott elementary #janine teagues #gregory eddie #janine x gregroy #teddie #astral blogs

[possibilistfanfiction]

another wn prompt “brusque”

[also a lil snippet from part 4 of girls against god, shoutout to camila & mobility aids]

/

camila lounges better than you had expected, honestly, much to your delight.

‘so,’ she says, stretched out on one of the chairs on your patio in a pair of bea’s shorts and one of the t-shirts that’s so old you don’t know who it originally belonged to, feet bare, ‘how’s your back?’

‘well —‘ you think about lying, but this is camila, so it would both be wrong and completely unbelievable anyway — ‘pretty bad.’

she hums. ‘and what are your plans to make that better?’

you don’t have any, really, because bea is trying so hard not to push and you want to live in denial as long as possible. ‘i guess talk to dr. salvius. last time she said she would come up with some interventions that might help.’

‘last time, as in when you went three months ago?’

‘uh, yeah?’

camila sits up. ‘beatrice is so in love with you, you know.’ the clench of her jaw is a little unexpected, her next words brusque. ‘i love you. we all love you, ava.’

you feel yourself pout but you can’t help it. ‘you don’t sound like you love me right now.’

camila stands and moves to sit on the end of your lounge chair, takes your hand. ‘there’s no shame in needing any help, with anything.’

‘i just hate —‘ you wipe sudden, embarrassed tears from your cheeks, and camila waits patiently — ‘i hate feeling like a burden.’

‘ava,’ camila says, ‘you won a war.’

‘yeah,’ you say, ‘and now, sometimes, i can’t even get out of bed. i have this beautiful partner who basically gave up her entire life for me, and this beautiful house in, like, paradise, and it’s just —‘

camila rubs gently up and down your spine while you get your breathing back under control.

‘i swear to you, ava, none of us, especially not beatrice, think any less of you because you’re having problems with pain and mobility.’

‘i — i have a history of that being the opposite.’

she nods calmly, her hand still steadily wrapped around yours. ‘i hear that. but, and i know you know this, but — when you were younger, you deserved so much better.’

‘i guess.’

camila squeezes your hand. ‘first, you deserved care. more than anything. but, practically, you deserved physical therapy, and an electric wheelchair, and all kinds of adaptive resources. you shouldn’t have had to stay in one room, just because you didn’t have the same mobility as me, or as bea.’

bea has told you the same thing, mostly gently, sometimes with a frustrated edge to her voice that betrayed the deep hurt she feels on your behalf, after all this time.

‘and i know we can’t make up for the abuse you had to go through, for so long, but i know that bea is desperate for you to get all the help you need. she isn’t saying it, because you two are frustratingly respectful of each other’s boundaries, but it’s eating at her.’

you sniffle. ‘i know that. she thinks she’s very measured but sometimes i can read her like a book.’

 ‘you know, before you were together, every time she’d check in from switzerland, all she could talk about was you. always exasperated, but always about all the ways you’d made her laugh.’

’that’s so gay.’

‘ava.’

’sorry, sorry.’

‘what i’m trying to say,’ camila tells you, intent, ‘is that so many people with spinal cord injuries live really cool, really normal lives — with way less pain than you’re fighting your way through now, and all kinds of cool aids that i’m certain dr. salvius would love to create with you. we’re not going to let your life be less full or smaller or less happy because you need help sometimes.’

‘i’ll call her tomorrow,’ you say, and camila smiles. 

‘good, you absolutely should.’

‘will bea be mad that we talked.’

she shrugs. ‘i don’t really care. someone had to talk to you if she wouldn’t, and it was either me or lilith.’

‘terrifying prospect,’ you say, and then salute her. ‘thank you for your service.’

camila laughs. ‘i would say anytime, but i’m here in your gorgeous, ridiculous beach house in this even more ridiculous city, and i’d really like to just think about margaritas from now on.’

‘that,’ you say, ‘can certainly be arranged.’

bea wanders up from the beach, her wetsuit pulled down around her waist, perfect abs on display, her bikini top a little askew, a tattoo peaking out from the wetsuit along her hip. you stare, unabashedly, because she loves you and she never wanted, really, to give up her life to god anyway, you know by now well enough. there’s freckles all over her shoulders and her chest and she’s still a little wet, smelling like the sea, but you welcome the kiss she drops to the top of your head after she props her board up against the wall. 

camila gags when you simply stare at her above you, and you roll your eyes; bea just ignores it.

‘all right?’ she asks.

‘great,’ you say. ‘hey, after you shower, can you grab my cane before we walk to get drinks? camila has requested only thinking about margaritas for her time here.’

camila smiles at her hands and bea pauses, stock still, before she seems to whir back to life. ‘yes, of course,’ she says, like it’s the simplest and most frequent thing you ever ask for. she can’t help herself, though: she brings a hand to the back of your head tenderly and you lean forward to kiss her hip, just over the ink there. you let everything settle, and then bea nods resolutely. 

‘well, camila, i’ll spare you ava’s oogling and shower indoors.’

‘thank you for that; i’d rather not throw up today.’

‘hey,’ you say, put your hands up, ‘it’s not my fault bea had an outdoor shower installed for this express purpose.’

bea scoffs. ‘you asked for the shower.’

‘you could have said no.’ you shrug. ‘but you didn’t.’

camila groans. ‘please, beatrice, go shower. you both owe me tacos now too.’

‘fine, fine,’ bea says, but she winks in your direction and strips her wetsuit off the rest of the way and then walks inside without a second glance, shooting off an obnoxious little wave.

‘do not follow her,’ camila says. ‘i’m jetlagged and starving, and i don’t want to wait another hour before we get food.’

‘if you think we need an hour you’re insane.’

‘ava.’

‘fine,’ you say, lie back against where camila is sitting to essentially force her to cuddle with you, which she does without any protest. ‘i will not make love to my beautiful, sweet partner who only continues to grow hotter by the day.’

‘i’ll call lilith right now. she’ll teleport here in a second.’

‘no, no,’ you say, pat her hand. ‘there’s no need for that.’

camila laughs and you both doze off a little for a few minutes in the sun before bea touches your shoulder to shake you gently awake. she’s dressed in a pale linen short set, the top few buttons of her loose shirt mercifully undone, and you know she’s not wearing a bra. her hair is long, blonde, swept over her shoulder in waves ever-present whenever you’re by the ocean. 

‘you’re so beautiful,’ you say, and she kisses you before handing you the cane you’d reluctantly gotten a few weeks ago, when your flareup had been so bad you couldn’t even make it down the stairs in your house.

‘i’m awake,’ camila says. ‘so please, no funny business.’

bea, even in her loose, light clothes and sunny hair, still stands prim and proper, like she’s been caught doing something wrong. camila seems to sense that, and so she stands and taps bea’s butt, then laughs and says, ‘okay, time to buy me everything for dinner.’

bea nods, and her shoulders relax after she takes a deep breath: usually, the days stretch on and she smiles more than she ever has, with her strong thighs and the aikido classes she teaches to little kids at the dojo, the tattoos she quietly loves getting, the drag brunch you go to once a month on sunday. most of the time, she loves you so deeply — quiet, still, but with a reverence she hadn’t allowed herself at first, and a joy that tinges everything yellow like the sun — and camila smiles when bea settles and takes your hand. 

you grasp the cane in the other, and you walk the few blocks to your favorite place, camila and bea chattering the whole time. it’s easier, admittedly so, and when you walk home, after the sun has set, it’s a little easier then too.

#wn #warrior nun fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #anyway let ava be a person who has both superpowers & a disability !!! i'll die on this hill #camila the mvp #lots more of this in part 4 :)

[offthebandwagon]

To you; in June

Ava, small town florist, likes curating bouquets for people. But being in a small town means the shop doesn't see much footfall. She has a few regulars; one in particular signs off as "Villaumbrosia", and some visits her for other reasons. She gets a new customer who comes in with grief hanging over her shoulder. She's quiet, and she asks for white flowers. Ava obliges, of course, since she's a paying customer but she starts slipping in specks of colour into the bouquet she asks for, once every month. She can't help feeling intrigued, despite the morbidity of it all, because the woman in front of her who is wearing grief like a second mask, looks absolutely stunning.

Read on AO3

The door to the shop opens. Ava looks up from her task at the familiar clinging of the wind chime. 

Since she started working at the Cat’s Cradle, she has seen and dealt with people from all walks of life. From human resource managers purchasing ‘get well soon’ hampers for their staff, to people purchasing roses with mildly sheepish expressions. They usually ask for the best bouquets, splurging on ridiculously expensive add-ons because they forgot about their anniversaries. 

Some were the occasional times where customers who were passing through the city were looking to surprise their other half with a bouquet while they were visiting. Their exuberant energy lit up the usually quiet shop, and Ava let the energy carry her through the boring days. 

Some of them even return for repeated orders. She remembers a tall, elegant woman always coming in to order a bouquet of flowers every month for her partner, signing off as Villaumbrosia, a truly unique last name that had Ava wondering about their background. Instead of placing a repeated order for every month, Villaumbrosia would come in and browse the flowers that were in season that month and curate her own bouquet, with thoughtfulness rarely seen in others. Most people get Ava to help them with the bouquet. 

But that day, that expression, Ava has seen it far too often. It is one of her least preferred moods to work with. 

Grief. 

The woman, in a neatly pressed shirt tucked into straight culottes, approaches her at the counter with a somber expression. She’s attractive, despite the grief clinging to her like a second skin. Tanned skin and neatly trimmed brows that are slightly furrowed, she approaches the counter. 

“Welcome to Cat’s Cradle,” Ava greets, opting to keep her tone light, “how can I help you today?” 

“Would you happen to have any lilies and white roses?” The woman asks as she looks around the flower shop. Her voice is deep and Ava can hear the way her voice hollows out from the nasal block. 

Ava ignores the quiet sniffle and she gives what she hopes is a comforting smile. “For a bouquet?” 

“Yes please.” 

She doesn’t need any verbal confirmation. The request for lilies and white roses tells Ava everything she needs to know. She quietly slips to the air conditioned storeroom at the back and picks out several stalks of flower before returning to the front. Ava works quietly on trimming the stalks, aligning the flowers onto the Kraft paper she has laid out on the counter. The woman watches quietly, void of any attempts to make small talks. 

The air is thick, and Ava breathes quietly as she works. Grief is a heavy cloud, after all. Ava works in silence, adding several small stalks of baby’s breath and chamomile to the bouquet of lilies and roses as an afterthought. She sets them together with stalks of myrtles and uses a plain cream coloured ribbon to hold the bouquet together. 

The woman’s eyes glaze over as she takes the bouquet Ava hands over. She pays, thanks Ava for the bouquet and exits. The atmosphere in the shop lightens at her departure but the sadness in Ava’s chest lingers. It always does. She wonders if there’s a part of her that will always feel too much for strangers she will never see again. It feels like she leaves a part of her in every white bouquet she makes. 

Suzanne says it’s not necessary a bad thing. Being able to tap into her feelings is what makes her a good florist. It helps her make bouquets that perfectly align with the customer’s emotions. Her arrangements speak for her. 

But it makes Ava wonder if her bouquets help with grief. Bouquets inevitably feel heavier in the hands of heavy hearts. 

---

Business is extremely slow. The heavy rain outside is making it a gruesome day for Ava as the clock ticks on with no customer in sight. 

Rainy days are the worst. Ava sighs. 

People either stay indoors snuggling up with a hot cup of coffee or tea, or they are too busy running from one dry spot to the other to spare the flower shop a second glance. 

She’s about to head into the store room to tidy up the back when she hears the wind chimes jingle. 

This time in a coat and her hair styled into a tight bun, the woman Ava has labelled ‘grief’ steps into the store. She gently puts her umbrella into the umbrella rack by the door to avoid dripping rain water and leaving puddles all over the floor of the store. 

It has been a month, and Ava has not expected her to return. Most grieving customers do not. 

“Hey,” she greets. This time, her eyes are clear and her shoulders are tucked back. The hunch she walked into the shop with previously has disappeared. 

It seems like grief has gotten a little lighter for her. She carries herself with her head higher, steps lighter. 

Ava returns the greeting with her usual opening line for her customers, “welcome to Cat’s Cradle.” 

The woman stops before the counter, puts her hand up on the counter and drums her nails against the counter top. Ava follows the action and resists the urge to frown at the action. 

The woman notices, and pulls her hand away from the counter. 

“I’m sorry that was rude of me.” She apologises. 

“It’s fine.” Ava shrugs it off and lies. It’s not fine. She hates it when people drum their fingers against her precious countertop. 

“I… I apologise. it’s a nervous habit.” 

Ava nods and forgives the woman too easily. She may be more familiar than the regular person about anxiety and developing nervous ticks, having spent years trying to correct her own habits. “What can I do for you today?” 

“I’m not sure if you remember, but I was here last month and I-,” she pauses, backpedals, “you made me a bouquet with lilies and white roses in them with some-“ 

“Baby’s breath and chamomile.” Ava finishes. Of course she remembers. She sometimes wonders about her past customers, especially people with heavy bags under their red rimmed eyes. Especially those who remain terribly attractive despite the sorrow and grief. Ava sometimes mentally chides herself for those thoughts but she can’t help wondering how they look without the heavy cloud hovering above them. 

“That, yes.” The woman confirms. Her lips are pressed together into thin lines, reconsidering her next words. 

Ava nods again, “same old?”

She waits for the confirmation before heading to the back to grab the flowers she needs. 

“It has been a month.” Ava says as she snips the thorns of the rose stalks and levels the stems. 

“Yes.” 

The rain outside makes the atmosphere even gloomier, and Ava tries to make small talk to lighten the mood. 

“Someone important?” 

It goes without saying, but Ava needs an opener, somewhere, somehow. She’s not trying to be nosey, but she craves some answers to plug the hole in her chest that this woman has carved when she walked into the shop a month ago. 

Silence. 

Ava looks up briefly to see the woman staring out of the window, seemingly deep in thought. Thinking that the woman before her is not willing to share beyond what is necessary, Ava almost drops the question and resigns herself to working in silence. Some people are not fond of small talks, or are private people, and Ava respects that. 

“Very.” 

Ava hums. She continues to arrange the bouquet, happy to now let the rain fill the silence but she inevitably blurts out facts about flowers. That’s what florists are best known for, right? Facts about flowers do not harm anyone. 

“While lilies are usually associated with grief, their symbolism is much less morbid.” 

The woman turns back to look at Ava who takes it as a sign to continue. Her eyes shine brightly, a glint of piqued curiosity. 

“Lilies were, or are associated with purity and innocence. Because of this, they slowly evolved to mean the soul of a deceased returning to a place of peace.” 

The woman says nothing but Ava can tell she has her attention. She continues to talk about the other flowers in the bouquet. Similar to the lilies, white roses are often associated with innocence and purity because of the colour white. She brings up a small stalk of baby’s breath and explains how the common filler flower also symbolises grief. 

“What about the chamomile?” 

Ava smiles. “It depends. It means a gift from the divine’s in some culture, and it also symbolises renewal and rebirth in others. But mostly, I added it because I thought the bouquet could use some color other than white, and hopefully the scent could lighten the mood.” 

The woman stays quiet, pensive, for a second. The silence lingers. The rain gets lighter. 

“They did,” she whispers, a response Ava isn’t expecting. 

It catches Ava off guard. “I’m sorry?” 

“Last month. The chamomile helped.” 

“I’m glad.” Ava smiles as she pulls the ribbon tight, securing the bouquet. She holds it up to inspect it for any fraying bits before handing it over to the woman in front of her. 

The woman takes the bouquet. Curiosity crosses her feature as she looks at the new flower added to the arrangement. 

“That’s gladiolus; for remembrance.” Ava explains. 

An exhale escapes between the woman’s lips. The rigidity of her shoulders slumps together with it. She looks up at Ava and the corners of her lips tugs upward into a slight smile. 

A tired smile, but still a rewarding one to Ava. 

“Thank you, again….” She trails off. 

Ava catches the hint. She keys the cost of the bouquet into the system and tries not to stare when the woman taps her card against the card reader machine. 

“Ava.” 

Thank you, Ava. I love the arrangement.” 

“My pleasure.” Ava is ready to let the woman go but her impulsiveness wins as she blurts out, “sometimes, it’s better to talk about things that hurt.” 

The woman pauses. Ava cringes and hopes she didn’t overstep with that comment. She almost apologises for it when the woman turns back around and meets Ava’s gaze, a slight smile on her face. 

“Maybe next time.” 

Ava says nothing, and watches as the woman picks her umbrella from the stand and opens the door. The wind chimes sway, and Ava continues looking as the woman opens the umbrella and puts it up. She silently hopes that the grief on her shoulder would ease. 

“Maybe next time,” she echoes to the empty shop. 

---

The door opens and the wind chime jingles. 

Ava barely has time to look up. She’s trying to complete the wedding order where the bride has explicitly made it clear that she wants thirty tables of certain flower arrangements, a large bouquet for herself and even larger arrangements for the two VIP tables. 

“I’m sorry I’m currently rushing some orders but give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be with you.” She explains without looking up. 

“No worries.” 

Her head snaps up at the voice. It’s her. Lilies and white roses with camomile and baby’s breath. 

“Hey, you.” Ava smiles before returning to the task at hand, setting red dahlias onto several metal frames and padding them with stalks of filler leaves. 

Having a large order usually excites her, especially wedding arrangements but the particular customer has exhausted her with her endless anxious calls, long list of demands and requirements and constantly texting her under the pretense of checking in when she wants to backseat manage the order. 

The woman looks around the shop, stopping at several vases of flowers and gently running her fingers through the delicate petals. 

Ava packs the table pieces into several boxes for transport before turning back to the only other customer in store. She watches her quietly for a few seconds. The woman now seems lighter. The cloud that hung over her head seem to have lifted, or at least most of it. Her shoulders are more relaxed, her posture less rigid and her lips… 

Ava snaps herself out of it before her brain has the chance to stray. She pulls the counter seat out and places it in front of her counter. 

“I have a few more pieces to go. You can take a seat if you’re tired.” She pats the seat before returning behind the counter. 

The woman quietly takes a seat on the offered chair after a few more seconds of browsing the flowers and bouquets on display. Quietly, she  watches Ava work. The attention makes Ava mildly uncomfortable so she redirects it. 

“You look better.” She says. 

“Me?” The woman sits up straighter in the chair. 

Ava makes a show of looking around the shop before meeting the woman’s gaze. 

“Right, of course,” the woman rubs the back of her neck and clears her throat, “thanks?” 

Her answer makes Ava laugh. 

“So, what’s your name?” 

“Beatrice.” 

“That’s a bea-utiful name.” Ava immediately starts laughing at her own joke. If Mother Superion had anything that she would like to correct, it would definitely be Ava’s penchant for puns and terrible jokes. 

Beatrice, fortunately, chuckles at the pun, and Ava considers it a win. 

“Thank you.” 

The woman seems more open, more conversational this time. So Ava tries, “sometimes, talking about the difficult things can be therapeutic. Or so I’ve heard.” 

“I’ve heard the same.” Beatrice says softly. 

Ava knows about space. Figurative space. She knows when to push, and when to take a step back. Trauma does that to a person, makes them learn to shrink themselves small enough to not be a hindrance, and learn to pick up on the nuances of emotions so that they aren’t at the receiving end of a tantrum or anger. So she steps back. She focuses on tying the perfect ribbon around the bridal bouquet and gives Beatrice the space she needs. 

“Well,” Beatrice starts, “he was very important to me. You knew that, of course.” 

Ava looks up, curious. Beatrice is trying, and her chest does a sort of funny flip. 

“He played a huge role in shaping me into who I am today.” 

“Sounds like a great guy.” Ava encourages. She fights the quiet disappointment in her head and reminds herself that Beatrice is a customer, not a date. There is no reason for her to be upset at the fact that Beatrice had a boyfriend. To make matters worse, he passed on. Ava shouldn’t gloat over a dead man. 

“He was always there. Through the highs and the lows. He basically watched me grew up.” 

“How long have you known him?” 

“Fifteen years.” 

Ava lets out a low whistle, “fifteen years is a long time.” 

“It is,” Beatrice agrees. 

Ava hums. She lets Beatrice take control of the conversation and she sets the bouquet aside. The delivery driver should be here any minute now to pick up the wedding flowers. 

“I knew my time with him was limited. But I loved him with all my heart anyway.” 

Was the guy sick, or really old? Ava cannot tell. But a part of her feels beaten. Of course a beautiful woman like Beatrice has someone special - had. And now she will probably be mourning for years to come. Who wouldn’t? 

“What happened?” 

“Old age.” 

Ava keeps her expression neutral. Old age? It doesn’t sound like a parental figure either. 

“My condolences.” 

The chimes draw Ava’s attention away. The driver greets her and collects the flowers from her. She reminds the driver to be careful with the bouquets and receive a playful wink in return. 

Beatrice looks down, away from the interaction. 

“I’m sorry.” Ava apologies for the disruption. 

“There’s no need.” 

Whatever bubble they were in is now broken by the interruption. So Ava clears her throat. 

“So what can I do for you today?” 

Beatrice brightens up a little at that. “I was hoping you could help me put together another bouquet.” 

“The same flowers?” 

“Maybe a little more colours this time.” 

Healing. She’s healing. 

Ava does a mock salute and goes to the back to grab several flowers. This time, she includes yellow Gerbera daisies into the mix. More yellow instead of white this time. She re-emerges from the back and is greeted by a soft expression on Beatrice. 

“Gerbera daisies. The Celts believed them to lessen sorrows and well, they generally mean happiness. I guess he would want you to be happy.” 

“He would. He’s a good boy.” 

Good boy? Old age? Ava tries to wrap her mind around the conversation but nothing is making any sense. So she focuses on the bouquet and reminds herself to not pry too much into other people’s business. Even if they’re as beautiful as the one sitting in front of her. 

“So what’s his name?” Ava manages to keep her curiosity at bat for a full minute before the gremlin in her brain unleashes it all. She asks the question as she looks over at Beatrice, who nods in approval. 

“Peanut.” 

The answer throws Ava off. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She focuses on wrapping the flowers and smoothing the creases of the Kraft paper. Nothing is making sense but Ava desperately wants to do the right thing - be sensitive. The situation only clicks when Ava sees Beatrice unlock her phone to make the payment. A picture of a black schnauzer lights up as the screen unlocks. 

A dog. 

Beatrice has been grieving about her dog. 

She slaps a hand on her forehead and subconsciously buried her hand into her palms. 

“Are you alright?” 

Ava straightens up and tears off the receipt from the card reader. “Yes, no. I don’t know. I thought you were grieving over your boyfriend.” 

Beatrice blinks once, then twice, before her eyes crinkle and she starts laughing. Ava, despite feeling stupid for misreading the entire situation, laughs together with Beatrice. 

“I can see why you thought that.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed or pried.” 

“Well, I wish I had someone who would love me as much as he did.” 

I could, Ava almost blurts. She stays silent as she watches Beatrice put her card back into her coat pocket and adjusts her grip on the bouquet. Beatrice smiles, one that isn’t grief-stricken, and Ava feels her heart sway. 

“Goodbye Ava. Thank you for the bea-utiful bouquet.” 

Wait - did she just - 

The chimes jingle. Ava wordlessly watches Beatrice leave before she sighs and slumps onto the counter. She buries her face into the palms of her hands as she replays the interaction again and again in her head until she the machine beside her POS system chimes. A new order chit slowly emerges from the hand held device and Ava groans before reaching out to tear the chit off. 

The order be damned. 

---

“Your choices are amazing as usual. I hope your girlfriend loves this one as well.” Ava beams as she starts assembling the bouquet using the flowers her regular has picked out. This is the twelfth bouquet she has assembled for the woman and she hopes it’s a good sign. 

“I hope so too.” 

The door chimes jingle, and Ava beams. Her customer notices and follows her line of sight to meet Beatrice’s gaze. 

“Lilith.” Beatrice nods to the woman waiting for her bouquet. 

“Beatrice,” Lilith returns the greeting, “I see you’ve been here several times, given how her face lit up when you walked in.” 

What does that even mean? Ava’s expression fell as she finishes tying the ribbon on Lilith’s bouquet. 

“Well, yes,” Beatrice doesn’t deny it. “Thank you for the recommendation.”

It appears that Ava has Lilith to thank for Beatrice’s patronage. She subconsciously tunes out of their conversation and simply watches the two women interact and pays extra attention to Beatrice - how her posture is now relaxed, and how she smiles as she converses with Lilith. 

It isn’t until Lilith turns around and looks at Ava smugly that Ava realizes she’s staring. Her body snaps taut and she tries to pretend she didn’t get caught staring. Before she’s able to excuse herself to escape to the storeroom, Lilith announces her departure. 

“Goodbye, Lilith. It’s good to see you. Give my regards to Camilla.” 

“I will. See you, Beatrice.” 

Silence falls over the room as they watch Lilith make her way out of the store. 

“Hello, Ava.” Beatrice finally greets. 

Instead of responding, Ava steps into the back room to retrieve a bouquet. She has been expecting Beatrice so she already prepared a bouquet during the lull period so the other girl does not have to wait. Ava mentally curses herself because she realises preparing the bouquet beforehand would mean she has lesser time with Beatrice. But the expression on Beatrice’s face seems almost worth it. 

Beatrice’s eyes widen at the bouquet. A soft smile graces her features, making Ava feels fond, fond, fondc and she wonders if that’s a normal reaction towards someone’s smile. Probably not. She doesn’t recall feeling this excited or having fluttering feelings in her chest for another customer. 

This time, the bouquet consists of daffodils, Lily of The Valley and the usual white roses. Instead of subtle yellow within the white flowers, Ava hopes Beatrice has managed to sit with her grief and moved onto acceptance. 

Beatrice takes the bouquet and takes a minute to admire the arrangement. She brings the bouquet up and smells it, smiling. 

“Lily of The Valley - a symbol of purity, innocence and new beginnings. Daffodils, rebirth and the welcoming of each day.”

Beatrice hums as she goes through the motion of paying for her bouquet. 

Ava expects it to be a short interaction but Beatrice lingers. The woman holding the bouquet looks like she wants to say something but hesitates. 

“Do you need anything else?” 

“I…” Beatrice pauses. She takes a deep breath and recomposes herself before she looks at Ava, “I was wondering if you’d like to join me today?” 

The question catches Ava off guard. She opens her mouth but says nothing. Her hands suddenly feel clammy and she feels her heart beating faster. Is Beatrice asking her if she’d like to join her today? To presumably visit Peanut? The dog she thought was a boyfriend?

Beatrice must’ve mistaken her lack of response for rejection. “Sorry. I didn’t mean - I was,” she stammers, “you have a store to run, and it’s cool if you say no. I und-“ 

“Yes I’d love to.” Ava finds her voice again. 

“-erstand. What?” Beatrice blinks. 

Ava looks up at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. It’s lunchtime, so she cannot be faulted for closing the store and stepping away for a while. “It’s lunchtime anyway.” 

“Cool. I’ll buy you lunch.” 

“I’ll take you up on that offer. I wouldn’t say no to a free meal!” Ava hastily removes her apron and hangs it on the hook behind the counter. 

“Of course. What would you like?” 

“I’m craving for some Chinese food.” 

“I know a place.” Beatrice opens the door and holds it for Ava who thanks her before locking it. 

The way she carefully holds onto the bouquet as they walk down the street tugs at Ava’s heart strings. She swoons over the way Beatrice opens the passenger door for her and waits until she’s seated before closing the door. She tries not to be too obvious in staring at Beatrice who rounds the car and places the bouquet gently onto the passenger seat behind before sliding into the driver’s seat. 

Ava, of course, has forgotten to put her seatbelt on because she has been busy staring. She immediately tugs on the seatbelt for it to catch from the force she’s pulling it with. 

Nobody has warned her about Beatrice’s tendencies of getting too close too quickly. Nobody warns her about Beatrice reaching over, gently taking the clip of the seatbelt from her hand to stretch it across her body. Nobody warns her about the way Beatrice smiles and nods at the fact that Ava is now safely secured at the passenger seat. Nobody warns her about how this is a bad idea and she has no way of getting out of this now. 

She feels heat spread across her face and down her neck to her chest. 

“Ready?” Beatrice asks as she puts on her own seatbelt. 

Ava chokes out a yes and averts her gaze. If she looks at Beatrice now she may pass out from embarrassment. Is it embarrassment, or is it the way her heart is thumping so heavily against her chest? She starts doing breathing exercises to stop overthinking. 

Beatrice seems to not notice her internal turmoil. She shifts the gear and pulls out of the parking lot. 

Ava twiddles her fingers and starts wiggling her toes. 

“Are you alright?” Beatrice asks. 

“Yup, good. Dandy. Absolutely.” Ava rambles. 

Beatrice makes small talk as she slowly drives away from the shop. She asks Ava how long she has worked at the Cat’s Cradle, to which Ava tells her it has been nearly five years. It started as a hobby that she picked up from her neighbour who she adoringly dubs ‘Mother Superion’. Mother Superion indulged Ava in her curiosity years ago and allowed her to help with putting bouquets together. Through the years, she realized Ava has a good eye for pretty flower arrangements so she offered her a job at her shop. The rest is now history because she adores her job and it doesn’t hurt that she’s good at her job. 

“I’m glad Mother Superion took you in. I suppose your talent did bloom under her care.” 

Ava laughs. She has stopped fidgeting and starts trading questions with Beatrice. They continue talking through lunch, and Ava makes a mental note to visit the restaurant more often because the food is amazing. 

The ride to meet Peanut doesn’t dampen their mood. Beatrice shares stories of a young Peanut that scared her when he was first introduced to the family. Being a first time owner and a child, Beatrice didn’t know much about dogs. She fondly recalls the times she thought she had been too rough with the dog and made his teeth fall out. It turns out Peanut was teething and the chew toys inevitably caused his teeth to fall, and Beatrice just so happened to be playing with him that day. She attempted to hide the teeth, afraid that her parents would take him away from her. 

Ava pictures a young Beatrice being scared, thinking she was in trouble and smiles fondly at the image. 

“It wasn’t easy, for the first month.” Beatrice opens up about losing him, “I would return home expecting him to be waiting for me by the door but he wasn’t.” 

Their conversation lulls as Beatrice pulls into the parking lot. Ava exits the car and waits as Beatrice retrieves the bouquet from the backseat. She inspects it to make sure it’s not damaged before she joins Ava. Together, they make their way across the vast plot of land. 

The weather has been forgiving. It’s cloudy with sun rays peeking out between clouds. Ava doubts it will rain despite the clouds that provided a much appreciated cover. 

They stop before one of the many decorated tombstones. Ava turns to Beatrice and sees her take a deep breath. A forlorn expression on her face, Beatrice lowers the bouquet before the tombstone. 

“Hey buddy,” Beatrice greets. 

It’s a bittersweet moment, watching Beatrice interact with the one who had watched her grow up, witnessed every single heartbreak she had experienced and sat with her through tearful days. 

Grief is a ball in a box. At the start, the ball takes up the entire space in the box and it constantly presses onto the pain button. Slowly, the ball starts shrinking. It stops being constantly pressed against the pain button. Day by day, the chances of the ball hitting the pain button lowers. It doesn’t truly go away even though it starts hurting less. On random days it may start hurting because the ball gets rattled but it isn’t as insistent as it once was. 

“I brought someone to meet you. Her name is Ava. She has helped me with your bouquets, and I think you’d really like her.” 

Ava feels her heart clench. 

“Hey, Peanut. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #warrior nun saved #avatrice fanfic

[nsewell]

3, 5, and 19 for the OTP asks, for any pairing you want to talk about? Hehe :3

otp asks.

ANY pairing? okay you're getting ava x nat ^^

3. do they wear each other's clothes?

level with me here. in the present modern era? absolutely not, but there was a beautiful before time where ava did not have access to cargo pants because they hadn't been invented yet and she wore breeches and linen shirts and clothing that would be regarded as gentlemen's fashion and nat would dip into that when she wanted to feel handsome before expanding her own wardrobe to accomodate more masculine styles.

5. describe their cozy night in.

they’re sitting in water together, ava settled between the crux of nat’s long legs, the rise of her knees jutting out of the claw foot tub and she’s massaging deep, soothing patterns into the tense muscle at ava’s spine. she’s fresh from training and perspiration still clings to the back of her neck where water hasn’t touched her. the warehouse is empty, save the two of them. they make easy, quiet conversation in the dark about normal things; the state of the team, a recent read, the late hour. nat will press a kiss in question to the peak of ava’s centurion shoulder (stay?), and ava unravels like sand against the tide, relinquished to her. if only nat had known such a simple motion could accomplish what an hour of methodical kneading might. but then, she doesn’t mind at all.

19. how do they feel about pda?

big no espescially bc my idea of them is trying to keep their fraternization under wraps so they don't jeopordize the team or the agency catches wind of the ethical breech that is a commanding agent sleeping with her second in command. i do think M has walked in on them in a compromising embrace at some point but extended them the courtesy of never bringing it up again.

#ava x nat #hehe thank you this was sm fun. i would really love to do more with them sighs at my backlog of wips

[middleearthpixie]

Promise Me ~ Chapter Seventeen

Summary: Friends since childhood, Gabriella has long held back her feelings where Boromir is concerned, as she did not want to risk losing his friendship if he didn't feel the same. But, then he is summoned to Rivendell, and the night before he is to leave, he stuns Gabriella by confessing his feelings for her as well. 

But, war is coming and he cannot put off what he knows must be done. All Gabriella can do is wait for him and pray for his safe return. 

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Gabriella

Warnings: makeup sex 

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.6k

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Previous chapters can be found here.

Boromir heard Ava long before he saw her and he swallowed an oath as he hurried toward Faramir’s room. Fortunately, he made it without being seen, slipping around the corner of the doorway before she caught sight of him.

“Slinking about, are you?” Faramir asked dryly.

Boromir made a face at him. “I’m hardly slinking.”

“It looks just the opposite, to be honest.”

“Well, it isn’t, so let’s let the matter drop, shall we?” Boromir sank into his usual chair. “How do you feel?”

“I’m feeling much better. Perhaps you might help me talk Ioreth into letting me return to my own chambers.”

“I could.”

“I would appreciate it.”

“Father’s funeral is planned for the day after tomorrow. But, I would understand if you were not up to attending.”

“I will be there.” Faramir offered up a knowing look. “Gabby was here earlier.”

“Was she?” Boromir tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the mere mention of her name. She’d been on his mind all morning, and he’d planned to go on down to the tavern well before it opened and actually sit down and talk with her. 

“She was, indeed.” 

“And how is she?”

“Perhaps you should talk to her yourself and find out.”

“I would… I am, actually. In a bit.”

“I see.” Faramir’s eyes narrowed sharply. “You look tired, brother. Did you have a late night?”

“I’ve not been sleeping of late.” Boromir reached up to rub his eyes, which were every bit as tired as they probably looked. “Why do you ask?”

“Merely out of concern, is all. You should go and talk to Gabby now. Before it’s too late.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell you what we fought about?”

“No. I asked, but she had no desire to discuss it with me, which I understood and let the matter drop. But, if you wished to tell me…”

“I don’t. It’s none of your concern.”

“No,” Faramir said around a yawn, “I don't suppose it is. Although, you are being an absolute ass.”

“Take care, little brother,” Boromir replied evenly, “for you know nothing of the subject.”

“Don’t I? Tell me with a straight face you have not been in love with her since we were all but children.”

“I’ve made no secret of that. Least of all to her.”

“Is that so?”

“Faramir, is that anger I hear in your voice?”

“It is, indeed anger. And you are an idiot for this, Boromir. Do you know who was also in here this morning?”

A sense of apprehension crept through him. “How would I know that?”

“Ava.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and? Isn’t that enough?” Faramir’s normally calm, tranquil eyes glinted with anger. “How great a fool are you, that you would throw over Gabby for that… that harlot?”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t with Ava.”

“Is that so?” Faramir countered. “For she seems to think otherwise.”

“What?” Boromir’s gut kinked sharply as he shook his head. “What did she say?”

“It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it and the way she said it indicated you spent last eve enjoying yourself with her.”

“What?” 

“Are you telling me you weren’t with her?”

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t with anyone last eve.”

“Really? Because Gabby went to your flat this morning and she said you weren’t there. So, where were you?”

“I was at the river.” Irritation flared in Boromir’s roiling belly as he raked a hand through his hair, then shook his head. “I sat here with you, until well after you’d gone to sleep and she came in here, invited me to her flat for a drink and I said I could use one.”

“Boromir.”

He scowled at the scolding in Faramir’s voice, but was having none of it. “Let me finish, if you don't mind. I said yes, but then, as we were walking back to her flat, I changed my mind. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be with her. So, I thought to go down to the Half Moon and have it out with Gabby for once and for all. Only, when I arrived there, all the lights were out and I didn't want to disturb her and make her furious all over again, so I went instead to the river to think. And that’s where I was. Sitting on a bloody rock until my arse went numb and my back ached and now she thinks I spent the night with Ava, of all people?”

“Ava wanted her to think that, so yes. And she was really quite smug about the whole thing.”

Boromir’s gut kinked so sharply for a moment, he thought he might actually be sick from it. “So, Gabby thinks that I spent last night with someone else.”

“Well, look who finally caught up.”

Boromir groaned aloud, letting his head thunk against wall behind him as he closed his eyes. “Oh, bloody… are you joking? Please tell me you are.”

“Why would I joke about that? And not only does she think you were with someone else, said someone else apparently thought to rub it in Gabby’s face as well.” Faramir’s voice was low and serious. “You need to go and speak with her. Now. Before any more time passes.”

“She is going to be furious.”

“Probably.”

“And she won’t believe me when I tell her I wasn’t with Ava.”

“Probably not, no.”

“So, how do I find my way out of this one?”

“In all honesty, I’m not even certain how you found your way into it. What did you do?”

Boromir lifted his head. “I made the mistake of assuming she wanted children. And I might or mightn’t have told her it was more or less her job to do so.”

Faramir just stared at him in wide-eyed horror for a good thirty seconds before growling, “You are an idiot, Boromir. I hope you know that.”

“Oh, yes… I do indeed know it,” he replied softly. “And that was why I was sitting on the rock last eve. Much as I would like to have little ones of my own, I also want to be with Gabby. And now she thinks I was with another woman…”

“Go and talk to her. Before you waste any more time, too.”

Boromir sat forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “She will never believe me.”

“There’s only one way to find out, though. And that is to face her.” Faramir made a shooing motion with both hands. “So, go and talk to her. How many more times need I tell you this?”

Boromir stood. “All right, all right. I’m going.”

“Good luck,” Faramir called as Boromir moved toward the door. “And do not mess this up!”

Boromir rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I’m not trying to.”

Faramir said something else, but Boromir didn't quite hear it and did not take the time to stop and question him. A sense of urgency pushed him to hurry along the corridor, his need to get to Gabby and clear everything up between them nearly throttling him. If she thought he’d slept with Ava…

He didn't want to think about it.

Then the choice was snatched from him as he rounded the corner and walked smack into the very woman he did not want to see.

She slammed into him, her arms going about his waist as she gasped, “I beg your pardon—oh, good morning.”

He caught her by the forearms to untangle from her. “Why would you let anyone think anything happened between us last eve when you know full well you went home alone?”

She peered up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You saw Gabby this morning, didn't you?”

The innocent faded as a darkness flashed through her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you could mean.”

“Of course not.” He stepped back. “Stay away from me. Stay away from Faramir. Stay away from Gabby. Is that clear?”

He didn't wait for her response, but stepped around her and kept walking. He felt her eyes bore into his back, but ignored the heat as he descended the staircase and strode out into the downpour. 

The icy rain bit into his skin as it soaked through his shirt, into his hair and his trousers, and he paid it no mind as he hurried along the cobbled street down to the first tier. The Half Moon tavern stood on the corner, its ground floor windows still shuttered. He moved around to the side of the whitewashed building, where a narrow staircase led to the apartment above the tavern and he took those stairs two at a time.

He hesitated at the top, dizzy from the exertion of quickly ascending the staircase mixed with the frantic pace of his heartbeat and combined with his churning gut. Black dots danced before his eyes as he stared at the door and he steeled himself for her fury as he rapped on it. The wind picked up, whipping his wet hair about his face. The wet strings stung his cheeks, his forehead, and with no little impatience, he shoved it away from his face.

Gabby’s face appeared in the window and at first, her eyes went wide. But then they narrowed, so he called, “Wait, Gabby, please… let me in, won’t you?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“I know, but—” Thunder rolled ominously overhead, a lightning bolt slicing across the sky in its wake—“please, just hear me out.”

She moved away from the window and his gut kinked sharply as another bolt streaked white against the evil black clouds. But then, the lock gave and she opened the door to glare up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because, I did.” He gestured to the rain still pounding down upon him. “I owe you an apology. For what I said the other night, for the way I suggested your sole purpose is to bear children, for—”

“For rolling about Ava’s bed with her?”

“I did nothing with her, Gabby. I promise you, I didn’t.”

“Really?” Gabby’s eyes narrowed. “Because she seems to feel that you did just that. And when I went to your flat this morning, you were not there.”

“No, I wasn’t.” He shook his head. “Because I was down at the river, sitting on a rock, trying to figure out how I make this all up to you. Please, may I come in?”

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes pewter and cold as the rain still soaking into him. His gut churned as he waited for her to slam the door in his face, as her eyes suddenly shimmered. “She led me to believe you were with her.” 

“I know.” He nodded. “But, I wasn’t. I promise you, love, I wasn’t.”

Her eyes slowly swirled from pewter to silver and she stepped back. “Come in.”

He squished into the kitchen, and bent to tug off his wet and muddied boots. “May I have a towel or something so I don’t leave puddles?”

She closed the door behind him, then moved to the counter, to pick up the dishtowel, which she passed to him. “You were on a rock?”

He nodded, draping the towel over his head to rub his hair as dry as he could. “I was on a rock. I used to go down to the river when I was a boy,” he draped the towel about his neck and smiled at her, “especially when I was in trouble for something, and I’d sit on one of the rocks and just watch the water until I thought it safe to go back home. As I grew older, I went there to think. To make decisions that didn't come easily to me.”

He met her gaze. “To figure out how to make up with my woman when I’m the reason she’s angry with me to begin with.”

Gabby arched one delicate brow. “Your woman?” 

“You mean, you aren’t?” He took a step closer to her. “I was wrong, Gabby. That’s all I can say. I should not have assumed anything and I should definitely not said it was your job. It was a stupid thing to say, for I know you are much more than that. And while I would like children, I want you more.”

As he spoke, he caught her hands in his and paused, waiting for her to pull free. To his relief, her fingers curled about his, her thumbs brushing the backs of his hands. He gave them a squeeze. “I love you, Gabby. I have loved you since I was but a boy of sixteen and I will continue to love you until I draw my last breath.”

“Boromir…” She stepped closer, and his heart skipped a beat as she pulled her hands from his to ease her arms about his waist. “Are you so certain that would make you happy?”

“I know being away from you makes me unhappy. I know that just the thought of losing you makes me unhappy.” He caught her face in his hands, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “So, if I have to choose? I’m choosing you.”

With that, he bent to her, covering her lips with his. Her fingers tightened on him, her lips parting to offer him an invitation in, one he readily accepted, letting his tongue sweep teasingly along hers. She responded in kind, his blood warming as she eased her hands beneath his damp shirt, her fingernails grazing along his equally damp skin. 

He slid his fingers into her hair, tangled but soft, and shivered as she swept her fingernails up toward his shoulder blades, dragging his shirt up as she did. He broke his kiss to brush his lips along the smooth line of her jaw, down along the slope of her neck. 

Her head lolled to the side as he moved down into the curve of her shoulder, her whispered, “Boromir,” causing every sinew in his body to tighten.

He pulled back. “I love you.”

Her eyes swirled silver as they met his. “I love you, too.”

He swept her up in his arms and spirited her—albeit with some squishing—to her bedchamber, where he bent to set her gently in her bed, and then, even more gently, came flush against her.

She wrapped around him, tugging him closer still as she wound her arms about his neck and their lips met in a fiery kiss he felt clear through to his soul. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, tugging it slowly up over his back, and he pulled away just enough to allow her the room to draw it over his head. It fell into the shadows alongside her bed, and he couldn't hold back his soft moan of pleasure as her fingernails brushed along his skin once more. 

He drew back, smiling down at her as he whispered, “I will be careful with you, love. I give you my word that I will.”

“You don't have to be,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I’ve had time to think as well, love. And perhaps a baby wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.”

His heart skipped another beat. “Are you certain? I meant what I said, if you do not wish to have them—”

“I’m certain.” Her eyes softened, which did the strangest thing to his insides, made them fluttery and melting at the same time. “I think you would make a wonderful father, you know.”

“I dreamed of it,” he whispered, his arms trembling slightly from the exertion of holding himself away from her. “When I first returned here, when I was in the Houses of Healing, hovering being living and dying. I dreamed of us with a little boy and you were expecting again and I’d never seen you look so beautiful.”

She reached up to sweep his hair away from his face, her fingers lingering along his temple, grazing his cheek to leave a hint of warmth in her wake. “What did he look like, this little boy?”

“He had your eyes,” he murmured. “Your beautiful, unusual eyes.” 

“Why do I think he looked like you otherwise?”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. He would look like you, of course.” Her eyes glittered as they held his. “And I do like this dream, Boromir.”

With that, he gave in to the need to come flush against her, the warm softness of her body so heady against him, cradling him as he captured her equally soft lips in a slow, lingering kiss. The heat from her palms against his back sank into him, her kiss ignited the embers of desire for her that never truly left him, and as those embers glowed to life, as they spread the arousing warmth through him, his trousers grew tighter. He thrust against Gabby, the relief sweet, but short-lived. Still, despite the fiery desire taking root deep within him, he did not want to rush. Instead, he wanted to simply savor every moment of being with her. 

Her fingernails scratched harder against his skin, sending a shiver along his spine and bringing a gasp to his lips. His entire back tingled from her touch. His eyelids grew heavy and sleepy. 

He broke their kiss, moving once more along her jaw, down her neck, into the deep vee of her tunic. He shifted his weight to one arm, and with his free hand, tugged at the silk cord lacings to part the cotton wider. 

Her head fell back, her breath hitching as he swept a kiss along the front of her neck, as he dipped his tongue into the hollow at its base. He moved lower, teasing and tasting as he bared her skin.

He moved down, away from that sensual heat between her thighs that beckoned him like a siren, feathering her cool, silken skin with light and teasing kisses. A hint of lavender teased his nose, as heady as the sight of her naked would be, as he crept toward the inner curve of her left breast. 

Her tunic slipped over that rise to bare her breast entirely and he smiled at the sight of her rosy nipple puckered in invitation. He flicked the aroused bead with the tip of his tongue, smiling as she sucked in a hard breath. Another flick, and her soft moan teased his ears, made him harder still. 

He caught that bead between teasing teeth, swirling his tongue lazily about it. Her back bowed, her fingernails sank into his skin, and she murmured his name in a husky, breathless voice.

He took his time with her nipple, flaying it with short, rapid flicks. Soothing it with those slow passes. He sucked hard at it, nipped gently at it. And as he did so, he slid his free hand up to cup the one still hidden beneath her shirt. A gentle knead had that nipple beading as well, and when he shifted to her right and caught it through the cotton, her breath left her body in might rush.

Warm cotton grew damp beneath his tongue. He shifted his weight again, his now-free hand slipping down along the curve of her hip, to the fastenings on her trousers. They gave without trouble and as he slid his hand beneath the linen, he smiled at the wet heat greeting him. His fingers slipped through that dampness, his thumb brushing the sensitive knot that had her gasping as her hips bolted toward him. 

A breathless moan bubbled to her lips, and the sight of her, eyes heavy-lidded, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip as her hips rolled slowly to meet him fired his blood, fired his arousal, made him ache for her as he’d never done before. He wanted to keep teasing her, wanted to make her feel sensations and pleasure she’d never before experienced. He slowly circled that knot, let the pad of his thumb sweep over it, lightly at first, but then harder with each pass. 

She rocked to meet each stroke, to meet  his rhythm as she moved with him. He bent to her, his lips seizing hers, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth to dance with hers. Her fingernails dug into him, her hips arched toward him, she shivered against him as he brought her closer to the edge.

He slid a finger inside her then, a low moan rising to his lips as she tightened about him. Each stroke was slow and deliberate, her body trembling beneath him. He took his time, savoring each pulse of her about him, smiling as she broke the kiss to whisper, “Oh, yes…” as he found that small spongy area and focused on it. 

She tensed, dragged her fingernails up toward his shoulders as she clung to him, and when he eased his finger free, she whimpered in protest.

He smiled, pressing a hot kiss into her lower stomach as he caught the waist of her trousers to shove down over her hips. The fabric skimmed easily along her legs, then joined his shirt in the darkness on the floor. 

A hint of crushed wildflowers teased his nose as he bent to her, nuzzled the damp blonde curls between her thighs. Those thighs parted, and he met her, sliding his tongue through those curls, around that knot. Her thighs pressed in against his ears, until as he could hear was the roar of his own blood and thunder of his own heart.

She grew slicker beneath him. Sweeter with each pass. She arched to meet him, her fingers now threading through his hair, where they bent and twisted and held on as she moved with him easily once more.

He teased her slowly, savored the scent of her, the taste of her, the way she responded to his caresses, his strokes, the way she shivered when he flicked gently at that bead, and the way she moaned when he suckled at it. She trembled, his name a husky, breathless whisper on her lips.

He ached for her, his body humming with the need to fill hers, to surge deep, and not stop until they both reached that blissful summit together. She was so close, slick and smooth and hot, throbbing around him, tugging hard on his hair as she whispered, “Please…”

It was the finger he slid back inside her that pushed her over the edge, that shattered her as she came in a flash, gushing hot and sweet over his tongue, writhing beneath him as she shuttered and cried out, “Boromir!”

He drew out her climax as long as he could, not letting up until she sank into the mattress before arching away from him. Her hands slid from his hair, down along his shoulders, and as he surged up over her to seize her lips again, she yanked open his trousers and thrust a hand in to wrap about him.

Her first stroke was very nearly his undoing. He shivered against her as fire flooded him, as everything inside him rolled over with the heated rumble of thunder. Boromir arched hard into her grasp, his arousal silkening her hand to make each thrust smooth and delectable. 

Then she shifted, guiding him to her. He breached her. Thrust. Surged deep. She gripped him, tight and hot all around him. Each thrust made his head spin a little more, made his body tense a little more, made the white hot burn of desire that much stronger. 

He rose onto his elbows, his thrusts swift and hard and driving and when she wrapped her legs about his waist and arched her hips, he couldn't hold back his moan. “Gabby… oh, love… yes… like that…”

She rocked with each thrust, driving him deeper still. His climax bore down upon him, the knots tight within him beginning to fray. Every muscle burned with the need to come, the pleasure engulfed him, hot and sweet, and as he went over the edge, he crushed her close, surged deep, and shuddered with a low moan. He tensed against her, trembling from the force of his release, his heart threatening to burst inside him, everything tight and stinging and the pleasure was unlike any he’d ever felt. Dots danced before his eyes, his breath was impossible to catch, and as he finished, he sank against her, his heart thundering against his ribs. His eyes closed of their own, his head coming to rest in the slope of her neck, her scent of vanilla and lavender a balm as they washed over him.

A soft laugh reached his ears and her arms tightened about him. Gentle lips grazed his temple  as she whispered, “Oh, my… that was… oh, I’m actually dizzy…”

He let out a breathless laugh, his eyes still closed, his breathing still rapid and uneven. “I am, too,” he confessed. Then, he managed to lift his head, gazing down into her beautiful silver eyes as he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He sank back against her with a sigh. “I can’t move.”

Her laughter caressed his ear. “I do not wish you to. In fact, I think you should never move again.”

“I won’t argue that.”

Her fingers brushed along his back, making the delicious drowsiness that often came in the wake of climax even more appealing. He relaxed against her, whispering, “Let me know if you cannot breathe.”

“I’m fine. And you are not going anywhere.”

“No, I am certainly not,” he breathed. But, even as he said the words, nature took over and he slipped from her warmth, so he forced his eyes open, lifted his head, and whispered, “I stand corrected. I’ll be right back.”

She winced as he moved off her and when he went to the kitchen and returned with a towel, she accepted it with, “This part, I could do without.”

He smiled, sinking onto the edge of her bed once again. “It was worth a bit of mess, though.”

“More or less.” She looked up at him and winked. 

“More or less?” He couldn't hold back his grin. “I’m fairly certain you were not left wanting, were you?”

“And you were?” she countered, her silver eyes gleaming.

“I didn't say that, but I’m also not the one who said more or less, either.”

“Oh, did I bruise your feelings?”

“Yes, actually.” He turned away, shifting to plant his feet on the floor. “I should probably leave because you are so insensitive.”

The bed shifted and he grinned as she came up behind him, draping her arms about his shoulders and pressed her breasts firmly into his back. “Oh, let’s not be hasty, now. Surely there is some way I might get you to stay a bit longer?”

“You have a sharp tongue, you know. And I am rather sensitive.”

She pressed her lips into the curve of his shoulder, where it met the base of his neck and nothing could have prepared him for the sensation that ran riot through him from that one, simple, almost innocent caress. “I will make it up to you, Boromir,” she murmured, her husky voice sending a shiver along his spine once more.

“How?”

“I’m certain I will think of something.”

Another teasing kiss swept along his neck. And then another. And she crept up toward his ear, catching the lobe between teasing teeth as she added, “And you will enjoy it.”

“Well, perhaps I might be persuaded,” he managed to whisper back despite the way his head had already begun to spin and his blood scorched its way to points south in his body. 

She pulled him back down across the bed. “I thought you might.”

#Lord of the Rings #LOTR AU #Boromir #Boromir fic #LOTR fanfic #Lord of the Rings Fanfic #Fan fiction #LOTR fanfiction #AU #Boromir x OC #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Sean Bean #Everybody Lives #Sons of Gondor

[alder-saan]

The Path of Poisons .9

Bugloss

Larissa x gn! Oc

the Path of Poisons masterlist . [01] . [02] . [03] . [04] . [05] . [06] . [07] . [08] . [09] next chapter ->

Sorry! It was supposed to be released yesterday but I forgot haha!

TW: Larissa's low self esteem, hospital, stupid lesbians

words count: 1.5k

Again, sorry for any misgendering, this is the only fic I write in French at first, yada yada yada...

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

Hello Larissa,

Thank you for your email, it was great to hear from you, I hope you're well. I haven't forgotten you, and even if it hadn't been for all this, I wouldn't have forgotten you.

I forgive you.

For everything you've done and everything you've said. I forgave you a long time ago. We've grown up, I've changed a lot, you've probably changed a lot too.

I wish you lots of strength, lots of courage and lots of happiness.

All the best,

Avareida

Larissa's heart leapt in her chest as she read the three words "I forgive you." It was more than she could ever have imagined. And she burst into tears in front of her desk. I forgive you. It was as if something released in her whole body. I forgive you. All the pressure she had built up, all the hatred she thought she was the object of, gone. I forgive you. Those were three words she had waited so long to hear, three words she only heard in her wildest dreams. I forgive you, three words she thought she'd have to die to hear.

She froze. Tears streamed down her face and soaked the papers spread out on her desk. She dropped her pen in surprise. She thought she'd read in the email something along the lines of "thank you for your email but I'd rather not talk to you". It was unexpected. She didn't even understand how it was possible.

I forgive you.

I

forgive

you.

Those three words echoed so loudly in her head, it was almost painful. She felt as if a small fire had been lit in her chest, a tiny flame, just a match, and the ice that had clung to her heart was gradually melting. She rubbed her misty eyes and took a deep breath.

"Pull yourself together, Larissa. It's nothing, it's just… it's just Ava forgiving you."

"She has? That's wonderful!"

Larissa gasped and looked up. Rei was closing the door and coming towards her.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you. I knocked but you didn't hear me, so I came in."

"Did… Has something happened?"

"The nurse has been informed that Wednesday is better. She asked me to tell you that we'll be able to see her soon. This afternoon, probably."

She nodded and finished wiping away her tears.

"Okay, that makes me feel better."

"Do you want us to do something before we go and see her? Go for a coffee or something."

Larissa frowned slightly, not really understanding.

"But you said that…"

"Yes, I said that romantically it wouldn't be possible at the moment, but I didn't say anything about friendly. You clearly need to take your mind off things, and I think getting out would do you good. If you want there to be no ambiguity, Thalia can come with us."

Larissa shook her head.She didn't want there to be too many people. What's more, while Rei was quiet, she knew Thalia to be very talkative. A little too talkative for her taste. Of course, she liked the Gorgon very much, but spending time in her company tended to exhaust her more than anything else, and she needed to rest today.

"No, it's fine, we can meet for a drink in the early afternoon. How about Weathervane?"

"That's fine."

Rei nodded. At least Larissa wasn't angry with him. That was something. Now she just had to wait for the right moment to tell her. Maybe at the Weathervane the next day? Or after the hospital visit, hoping she'd be a bit calmer.

Rei had absolutely no doubt that Mercredi would pull through. The young girl had resisted the poison for a long time without an antidote, so with the antidote, she should recover very quickly. So obviously, Larissa was going to be relieved, and hearing that Rei had been Avareïda all along would take a load off everyone's shoulders.

Perhaps a little more for Rei than anyone else, it's true.

__

Larissa was waiting at the Weathervane. She was 5 minutes early, as usual. Rei arrived right on time, as usual. They sat down opposite the principal, and handed her a small brooch in the shape of a little blue flower with four petals.

"Is that… is that for me?" she asked, taking the little brooch.

"Yes, I thought you weren't going to come to the hospital and leave with flowers…"

Larissa hung the brooch on her white jacket. But she didn't know the name of the little blue flower.

"I ordered for you."

"Oh, and what did you get?"

"It's a surprise."

Larissa smiled. She loved surprising her partners. She liked to see their faces light up when they finally found out what she was going to give them. Rei wasn't her partner, of course, but… She also liked to surprise her friends.

"Speaking of surprises," Rei began, "after we went to see Wednesday, I have something to tell you."

Larissa frowned. Rei looked a little stressed. She was worried about her friend.

"Is everything all right, Rei?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine haha. Sorry, this whole thing's got me a bit worried."

They gave her a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but Larissa could see it was fake. However, she didn't insist. Rei had every right to keep certain secrets, and she told herself that she would ask again at another time. Their drinks arrived. The waiter placed two hot chocolates on the table, with lots of whipped cream on top. Rei arched an eyebrow, amused to see that the surprise drink was a simple hot chocolate.

"Hot chocolate?"

Larissa nodded, her lips already on the edge of the cup.

"They make the best in the area."

"So you're a fan of hot chocolate?"

"Absolutely. Why, don't I look like one?"

Rei laughed softly before taking a sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes planted in Larissa's. They put the cup down and seemed to think.

"Well, no. You don't really look like a fan of hot chocolate. No offence, of course…"

The headmistress smiled and leaned forward slightly.

"And what do I look like, then?"

"You look like someone who likes expensive tea and wine," Rei quipped as she drank a little more.

She let out a small laugh.

"That's a bit true too, oh wait…"

Larissa stood up and leaned over the table, her arm outstretched to reach Rei's face. They had a smear of whipped cream above their lip, and she wiped it away gently. The botanist's face turned slightly red, and they looked into Larissa's blue eyes. Their lips opened slightly as the principal's thumb lingered there. They held their breath. If Larissa kissed them now, he wouldn't be able to resist. And in Larissa's eyes, they could see all the hesitation. She wanted to kiss them too.

Their lips met. Larissa tasted hot chocolate. Who had kissed first, Rei wasn't sure. They put their hand on the main girl's cheek and gently pushed her away.

"Forgive me, Rei, I…"

"Don't apologise, that's for me to do. I shouldn't have, I said that…" they sighed and then let out a small laugh, "I guess you're hard to resist. Let's forget about it for now, shall we?"

With a bit of luck, that very evening they would kiss again. For that to happen, he had to find the courage to tell her who he was. And that wasn't easy.

"It's time to go and see Wednesday, I think."

Rei blinked, drawn out of her thoughts.

"Yes, you're right."

Larissa had already got up and was paying for their two hot chocolates. Rei was about to protest, but by the time they got to the counter, she had already swiped her card.

"Hey, I can pay, you know?"

"I'm the one who chose, I'm the one who pays. That's the rule."

Rei laughed softly and held the door for Larissa to come out.

"Oh yeah? Since when is that the rule?"

"Since today. I just created it."

__

Larissa swallowed as she entered the hospital. She had left just three months earlier, and had promised herself she would never return. She watched Rei talking to a doctor, and tried to hold her breath. She'd hated that clean smell ever since. Those white floors, those white walls, those white doors, those white coats. She hated it. But she had to go. She had to face her fear. She had to go and see Wednesday. Because it was her fault, and entirely her fault that a pupil had been poisoned under her roof. It was her duty to protect them, but she had failed. She had failed.

"Riss? Everything OK? Wednesday has been moved to room 666. At her own request."

Larissa gasped and then nodded. She didn't even notice the nickname.

"Yes, everything's fine."

"Shall we?"

She nodded and reached for his hand. She needed something to ground her, to anchor her to reality, to make sure she wasn't in one of her nightmares. Rei guided her to a lift. They got in and the doors closed behind them. The six floors seemed like an eternity to Larissa, whose gaze went from the floor to the doors to Rei to the small screen that showed "third floor". Three more, she thought. Rei's hand was warm in hers, and that reassured her. Everything around her was blue and white, too cold for her. Rei gave her a small smile.

The doors opened onto the sixth floor.

Mercredi was sitting on her bed, her eyes open and her face impassive. Thalia was already there. Larissa quickly removed her hand from Rei's, but there was no mistaking the arched eyebrow on Wednesday's face: she'd seen everything.

"Laurel is back," she said simply.

"Excuse me?" Larissa choked, and widened her eyes.

"Laurel is back. She's the one who poisoned me. And she has an ally again."

"Who?"

"Avareïda Hydrurga."

_______________________________________

:)

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #principal weems #lesbian #the path of poisons

[daisymakesstuff]

Prologue

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Relationships: Morgan x Female Detective (Neveah Desanto)

Rating: Chapter is T (for violence, surprisingly); Series is M but might get bumped up to E.

Chapter Word Count: 1,600

Description: A devastating tragedy leaves detective Neveah Desanto as the best caretaker for an orphaned infant, putting Unit Bravo in an interesting situation and a strain on her and Morgan's relationship.

Read on AO3

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

Morgan sparks up her cigarette, glad to find her lighter still works after so long without use. The gravel of the warehouse roof shifts underneath her as she looks over the edge. There’s a moving truck parked out front and Agency employees are bringing furniture into the warehouse with their usual efficiency.

She recognizes the crib when she sees it, and a rocking chair, but she has no idea what most of it is. Do babies really need this much stuff?  Probably not. Nat was helping.  

 In hindsight, she should’ve known something like this would be coming one day. Maybe not a baby specifically, but the first known magical beast from the Echo World? A stray werewolf? Those are absolutely the kind of things her girlfriend would bring home. Neveah is a bleeding heart, and she’s always taking care of everyone.  There was a mission a few years back that should’ve been a dead giveaway…if Morgan had looked past her own interests when it happened. That’s never really been her strong suit, though.  

Deep in the Forest Outside of Wayhaven, Several Years Ago

With Ava and Farah having already downed the Trappers patrolling this area, Neveah and Morgan are hopeful they’ll be able to locate the supernatural they kidnapped. Nat, who stayed behind to look over the area maps, determined this was the most likely location given the routes the patrols followed. 

A sudden, shrill sound grates on Morgan’s ears. Grimacing, Morgan activates her radio to communicate with the team. “The target is northeast a few hundred feet…sounds like it might be a cave of some sort. It’s too loud to get a read on how many Trappers there are, though.”  

“Understood. I’m reviewing the area maps now. I’ll let you know when I’ve found a good entry point,” Nat’s voice comes over the radio. “Farah and I will circle back to act as additional support. Stand by until we arrive,” Ava orders. 

Neveah stops, frowning when she cannot sense whatever Morgan has.  “Wait, how do you know that?” She asks. 

“Because the baby crying is making my ears bleed,” Morgan gripes. The youngest Neveah had ever seen the Trappers take were usually 12 or 13, and she had made the mistake of assuming that is what they would find here. 

“A baby ?” Neveah’s whole demeanor shifts, a sudden determination taking over her face. She takes off, moving with impressive speed for a human, especially when she is in a dress and navigating a heavily-forested area. 

“Neveah!” Morgan barks, but it’s too late. There is no talking her down when she’s like this. Morgan lets out a long-suffering groan and follows close behind her. 

“I know the cave you’re talking about!” Neveah calls back. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about, sweetheart,” Morgan drawls. She runs a hand through her dark waves, as though that might soothe the twinge in her chest that happens every time Neveah throws herself head-first into danger. “We’re approaching the location now,” Morgan mutters reluctantly into the radio. 

“I told you to stand by, Neveah,” Ava scolds over the radio. She doesn’t need to be told to know whose plan this is. “There are supernaturals who rely on voice mimicry to lure their prey. This could be a trap.”

“You sent me because I’d probably be immune.” Neveah reminds her,  breathing heavily as she continues to make her way through the trees. 

“The ability could be physical—” 

“And what if it's not? What if they’re actually in there?” Neveah cuts Ava off. There is no snark to her question, just the deep genuine worry that can play just about anyone or anything’s heartstrings like a fiddle. 

Ava never answers, and Neveah falls quiet as she approaches the entrance to the cave. Neveah can finally hear the baby’s cries, their screaming echoes through the cave, faintly filtering out into the surrounding wilderness. 

“Will you shut it up already!?” snaps a Trapper from inside. 

“What does it look like I’m trying to do!?” A more feminine voice shouts back. They are both barely audible over the baby screaming. Morgan doesn’t think a creature with such small lungs should be able to make such a loud sustained noise.

 It does provide a good distraction though, allowing Neveah and Morgan to peer in and get an idea of the situation. The cave looks to go much deeper and become a much tighter squeeze, but the cavern the Trappers are in is open and fairly flat. 

There are four of them in total. One is off to the left digging through his backpack. Two are to the right, and one paces roughly in the center of the cavern bouncing the baby with an irritated scowl on her face. The kid is probably some sort of fae from the magic surrounding it. The aura isn’t particularly strong, but it’s way more than Morgan would expect from a kid so small.

Neveah nods toward the trapper to the left. She then looks at Morgan and tilts her head toward the two on the right. Morgan nods back to show she understands the assignment, and Neveah charges into the cave. At first, the fight is going well. There is a scream from one of the Trappers as Neveah no doubt gets the upper hand on him. Someone’s Volt clatters to the ground behind her, but there’s no scream or thump of a body hitting the ground. 

Morgan is almost caught by the prongs on the Trapper’s Volt, but manages to dodge just in time, using the opportunity to counterattack. The woman goes down with a groan. Usually, the hardest part of combat with Trappers is not being allowed to kill them, but she’s distracted right now. 

“Okay! Okay,” Neveah pleads, her voice tense with urgency and panic. Morgan stabs the Volt into her final trapper’s side absent-mindedly, all of her attention drawn to the scene behind her. “I’ll come with you. Just…please don’t hurt the baby.” 

The final Trapper has the baby in one arm and is holding their modified Volt to Neveah’s back with the other. Neveah raises her hands immediately in surrender, her Volt clattering to the ground. It rolls a few feet away from her…and closer to Morgan. Morgan growls at the Trapper, drawing her attention. 

“Stop right there, vampire! Come any closer and I’ll kill it!” Morgan hesitates, and it's not quite as fake as she wants it to be. This may be a ploy, but she knows Neveah really would sacrifice herself for someone else in a heartbeat, which means Morgan has to make sure it doesn’t actually come to that. 

Neveah chooses that moment to act, biting down as hard as she can on the arm the Trapper is using to hold the baby. It works as intended, the pain startling her into loosening her grip so Neveah can take the baby away from her. Holding the infant tightly to her chest, Neveah throws herself backward to get away from the blue sparking end of the Volt the Trapper tries to lash out at her with, making sure to land on her back so she takes the brunt of the impact and all of the scrapes. 

Not exactly graceful, but it gives Morgan the space she needs to pick up Neveah’s prod and jam it into the Trapper’s ribs. Morgan finds herself turning around before her enemy even hits the floor again, needing to make sure the detective is alright.

For just a moment, Morgan gets to drink in the sight of Neveah with her mouth coated in blood and a sharp feral look in her eyes. That image is going to keep Morgan warm for the next few days. 

It fades quickly back into her usual soft, worried expression as she has the chance to regain her bearings from the fall. Neveah shifts her grip to support the infant with one arm so she can use the other to push herself up off the ground. She’s bleeding from a variety of cuts and scrapes, dress and cardigan ruined from the fall. Despite that, all of her attention is directed to the baby, who is entirely unharmed but still crying. 

“Shh,” Neveah speaks softly to the infant, bouncing gently and patting its back to try and soothe it. “It’s alright now. We’re going to get you home to your parents.”

Morgan has to shut her eyes and hold her breath for a moment. The adrenaline fading, the kid’s screaming, the scent of Neveah’s blood, and the intense, confusing feelings the situation has inspired are all way too much in combination. She forces herself to concentrate on the sound of Neveah’s gentle cooing, ignoring everything else. The pain fades away almost instantly. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Morgan crosses to Neveah in a couple of quick strides, her hand gently grabbing Neveah’s jaw to draw her attention away. Warm brown eyes lock onto her almost immediately, and Morgan uses the opportunity to inspect her closely, looking for any distress Neveah might try to hide from her. 

“I’m okay,” Neveah smiles reassuringly, “just scrapes and bruises.” Morgan is pleased to find it’s genuine and lets her go with a nod. 

The baby’s screaming gradually peters out to hiccuping gasps, resting its head on Neveah’s shoulder and grabbing little fistfuls of her cardigan to soothe itself. The detective continues to rub the baby’s back with gentle motions, looking down at it with open care and affection. 

As they trudge back toward the rendezvous point, Morgan is just grateful that she’s not the one having to handle the baby. 

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfiction #twc fanfic #neveah desanto #series; stained glass

[confusedspaceotter]

Daily avatrice analysis (day 5)

day1 day2 day3 day4 day5 day6 day7 day8 day9

Oh analyzing ep 8 is going to get personal because of the coming out scene 

I’ve already decided to split Ep 8 into 2 parts because there is just too much to cover 

today i’ll mainly focus on the first half of ep 8

and I’ll talk about the rest tmr

So

Ep 8

we start with the beginning of the episode where the gang is reading the warrior nun journal 

got nothing deep about the scene but I do believe part of ava is this vine:

At least I am(the way kty say Et defunctis requiem IM WEAK)

anyway moving on 

I think there are a few reasons why Ava seems so eager to proof herself here

One

As someone who was quadriplegic, she knows what it’s like to be powerless and weak, since she spent most of her life receiving help from others

Makes perfect sense she’s she will jump into action the moment she got a chance to proof to herself that she is useful 

Two

She wanted to fulfill her job/destiny as the halo bearer 

Leaning from the journal, she realized how serious this is and she is the only one that can stop it

(You know things are serious when Mary said oh shit

Third

She wanted to protect her new found family(mainly Beatrice 

“If we get rid of Duretti, we can get the OCS back together.”

Will Ep 1-5 Ava cared about the OCS?

Probably not 

This is why ep 6 is so important to Ava’s character 

She needed to see the good that OCS is doing 

And not just some high trained nuns who’s after the thing on her back

That’s why she came back to the Cat’s Cradle

To help innocent people by accepting that she IS the warrior nun now

And it’s what happening here as well

Before we get into the training scene 

Two thing i wanna point out 

One

Absolutely love the way this guard go "oh shit she’s here again she better not break my table this time"

Two

Who the fuck give permission to Ava/Alba to look this good in that leather jacket????

Since the jacket is a tad bit oversize I’m guessing that’s Mary’s?

I would like to headcanon this happened:

Ava: *visible shivers from the cold*

Mary: *yeets the jacket to ava* 

Or it could go like this as well:

Ava:*visible shivers from the cold*

Beatrice: *notices Ava shivering* Mary? Do you have a spare jacket?

(either way i love this jacket i want it)

Now moving on to the actual training scene

say it with me ava silva is not only a genius but also a comedic genius 

(we love traumatized character who use humor as a coping mechanism) 

look at how precious Ava is 

her little whoo baby girl is so proud of herself

and so is Bea apparently 

love this genre of Avatrice where Bea smiling because of Ava’s smile ughhhh

Moving on to the next training scene

we can see supportive gf Beatrice

even when Ava is panicking all she did was to remain her composure and give her clear directions on how to get out 

even though she is probably worried sick on the inside as well

If avatrice have a timeline 

here is where Bea knows she definitely cares about Ava a tad bit much 

but she still trying to convince herself is platonic and she is just doing her job by taking care of Ava

I mean do friends cup each other's faces as gently as Bea did here???

Also the way Ava eyes lingers on Bea is something so personal to me

after she rushed towards Ava the first things she does is to touch her face

physical touch is definitely an Avatrice thing

and is such a vital part of their relationship because is how they communicate with each other

is them subtly asking: "hey you good?" and answering "yeah im good"

which we will see a lot more in season 2

Here we can see bea hesitates to help Ava up/touch her

feels like Bea was so worried about Ava after she cupped her face she panicked a little 

I think she is like “oh wait that's a little fruity in it”

and that's why she retracted her hand here

imo once you repressed you emotions it doesn't just go away in an instance 

it takes time to open yourself up again

which i think she did in season 2

but for now, Bea probably still views her feelings towards Ava as something she shouldn't have

Still doesn’t stop her from calming Ava down though putting her hand on her back tho

what can I say Avatrice is endgame from the beginning 

After Jillian said that she had been able to amp up the halo’s output 

notice how Bea was gonna say something?

she look almost hopeful for a second 

like she is glad they had found a solution to their problem 

truly live up to the name “the strategist of the group”(which i just decided to call her that)

btw side note

I love how Bea talks slower compared to other characters

because she really did think it though about what she is going to say

and we can see that in scenes where the gang is grouped up together to discuss something

you can tell she is always trying to find the best solution and consider all the possible angles

compared to Ava "punch first ask questions later" Silva

Avatrice is such endgame material because they fit so well

today feels like me fangirling over avatrice then an analysis but oh well

tmr we are going to get emotional and talk about possibly my favorite coming out scene in media 

stay tuned :)

day6

#daily avatrice analysis #we ramble today #we cry tomorrow #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice

[craftygalaxyspyfrog]

it's the little things (your laughter is almost as sweet as my revenge)

Have you ever heard the saying: "Never look a gift horse in the mouth?"

Well, that is exactly what Beatrice had gotten herself into. She had Icarus-ed herself; she'd flown too close to the sun. An innocent action that had led her down the path of unrighteousness.

She lay underneath Ava, snickering and snorting as the girl's dexterous fingers ripped her apart one flutter and prod at a time.

Both girls had been sitting in their latest dingy motel room; a layer of dust the only thing to welcome them upon their arrival. The bathtub was stained a very unsatisfactory brown colour, the sink and toilet the same. Why the room had a bathtub, neither girl knew. According to the woman at the desk, there was no running water. There had been no running water for a worryingly long time. They would have to wait to shower, it seemed.

After they had made themselves comfortable on the bed, legs interlaced as fingers curled together, the pair had gotten to talking about their lives post-nun. Ava spoke of her time stuck to a bed, the jokes that she had shared with Diego. Beatrice chose to delve into her boot camp days; a more fun time of learning the ways of the warrior nun.

"You fell," Ava found that she couldn't finish her sentence through laughter.

"It isn't funny!" Beatrice scolded.

Ava was still chuckling beside her. "Ha, you fell on your ass in front of Lilith!" She exclaimed, wiping a tear from her eye.

Beatrice scoffed. She wasn't too sure what possessed her to do it, but she pinched the girl's side purely to just be a cause of annoyance. What she didn't expect was for Ava to squeal and flinch away from her hand.

She had read about this. Ancient humans used to use a form of torture that would never leave a mark; a way that the person being punished for a crime could do nothing but laugh their life away.

Beatrice saw this act of humiliation as a crime. What better way to punish an annoying brat than have her laugh herself silly in a motel room that smelt like burnt tacos.

"Are you ticklish, Ava?!" She sounded a bit too excited about this discovery.

"No!" It was said too fast, too much mock enthusiasm, that it just didn't sound believable in the slightest.

Pity.

Ava may hold the halo, but Beatrice was not about to let this go. This was too good.

A struggle ensued, lasting no longer than a minute, but the nun found herself with the upper hand, sat on top of Ava's hips. Her hands were perched at her victim's sides, a silent threat, and judging by Ava's face; this was going to be good.

Before she was able to lose her dominance of the situation, Beatrice started to squeeze up and down the girl's sides. The reaction was instant.

"Nohohohohoho! Stohohohop!"

The older woman had always loved Ava's laugh. For some reason, it just seemed sweeter coupled with this current act of revenge.

"Are you sorry for laughing at me?"

Ava shook her head as the giggles poured out of her, snorting when Beatrice moved her fingers up to her ribs. Her laughter turned a little more desperate.

"Good spot?" Beatrice knew that she was being a brat herself right now, but this was such a gift. She had finally found a solution to silencing her girlfriend. Bonus points that she would get to see Ava's face turn a deep shade of pink as she laughed heartily underneath her.

But what was that saying about never looking a gift horse in the mouth? Before she knew what was happening, Ava had flipped them over. The nun now lay underneath the girl and, by the look in Ava's eyes, this was not going to be good for her.

Ava smiled darkly. "You are going to regret that."

And she went straight in for the kill. Before Beatrice knew what was happening, fingers were digging into the depths of her underarms, and she screamed before falling into unintelligible madness.

How was Ava so good at this?

Fingers stayed, tormenting her underarms, before one shot down and found its way to her stomach, pinching at every muscle that was at its mercy.

Beatrice had absolutely no clue what to do in this situation. Her mind was slipping out from under her one marble at a time as Ava, some kind of tickle god, found every sensitive spot that her upper body had to offer.

"AHAHAHAHAVA! PLEHEHEHESE!"

Ava laughed back at her, an almost delicious sound, "What's up, buttercup?"

If not for her exploring fingers and Beatrice slipping in and out of silent laughter underneath her, it would seem as though she was holding polite conversation.

Beatrice tapped harshly on Ava's hands after regaining control of her flying limbs, and the girl took that as her queue to retreat across the bed.

The older nun lay there, gulping in as much air as possible, before rolling her head to the side to lay eyes on her attacker.

"That..you...mean." Her words were complete incoherence, but Ava knew what it was that she was trying to say.

"Hmm," she started, making her way over to the non working bathroom. Beatrice watched her retreat with weary eyes. "Maybe that'll teach you to not start shit you can't finish."

She flashed a smile to the woman that was still currently trying to regain her normal breathing as she walked into the adjacent room.

Noted. Don't ever tickle Ava again.

(she tickled ava again)

#warrior nun tickle #avatrice #🐸 writes

[theycallme-thejackal]

After Carnegie Hall, Midge and Lenny agreeing in just be friends but then they going to an event and both of them with a plus one (kinda of a friend plus one) and both realizing they don't want to just be friends. A little bit of jealousy fic please.

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T

She is utterly stunning.

She's got the Marilyn hair, the lips of Ava Gardner, and the body of a Playboy centerfold.

It makes Midge want to vomit.

Gordon Ford stands next to her as they sip their drinks and chat together, and for not the first time, she wishes there was any sort of attraction between them. But after he kissed her that one time, they both realized there was absolutely nothing sexual between them.

She looks past him at where Lenny stands with his date, and she notices the way he's looking at her. It's a look she's never seen directed her way.

He's...bored.

She's beautiful, and she's talking to him and her hand does that thing where it touches his arm for just a moment, and there is nothing behind his eyes. He just sips his drink and talks to her politely.

---

Midge shouldn't care. It was her idea to go back to being just friends.

But as Lenny pretends to listen to the most vapid woman in the world chattering away about god-knows-what, he feels Midge’s eyes burning into him, and he knows.

She’s jealous.

That was not the intent. It wasn’t... Except somewhere deep down in his battered soul, it probably was. 

Betty gets distracted by someone more famous than Lenny (he doesn’t care to ask) and leaves him standing there by himself, free to watch his friend from across the room. She’s talking to Gordon now, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s so goyish it’s unbelievable, he might think they make a nice couple.

As it is, he knows she has no interest in Ford. Not with the way her eyes keep flicking away to catch a glance at Lenny. The next time they do, he subtly jerks his head and strides toward the exit, hoping she’ll follow.

She finds him leaning against the side of the building and offers her a cigarette. She opts to take the one already between his lips. “Enjoying the party?” He asks with a chuckle as he pockets the rest.

“I am now,” she replies on the exhale.

Lenny smirks, one hand in his pocket, the other on his mouth. “What are we doing, Midge?”

She shrugs, taking another drag before handing it to him again. “Smoking and avoiding the awful music playing in there. Really, you’d think with the budget for a party like this - ”

“Midge,” he implores gently. “Are we really going to stand here and make small talk about the party?”

She moves next to him, leaning her back against the wall. “Have you met me? I can talk all night about absolutely nothing.”

Lenny sighs, taking a drag from the cigarette. “If we’re going to be friends, I think we need to draw some boundaries. You can’t...The flirting and jealousy and...” He shakes his head, feeling her gaze on him as he looks at his cigarette lightly stained with her lipstick. “It’s not fair, Midge. I didn’t want to be just friends in the first place.”

He finally manages to look at her then. “I’m sorry, Lenny,” she breathes. “I just...got scared,” she admits. “I was so afraid of what would happen if we really tried to make a relationship work. What if it blew up in our faces?”

“So you decided to spend the last year torturing me,” he retorts, stepping away from her. He takes the last drag of his cigarette and tosses it aside angrily.

“That’s not fair!”

“No, what’s not fair is that every time I feel like maybe I can move on, you do something that makes me continue clinging to the idea of us.”

He watches her for a long moment as she tries to form words. “Lenny, the last time I loved someone this much, he left me with my suitcase.” Her words steal the breath from his lungs, the anger from his bones, and the beating of his heart. “I didn’t see it coming. I was so happy, and I thought he was, too, and then he just left. How am I supposed to trust that that’s not going to happen again?”

“I’m not Joel,” he responds insistently, looking into her eyes. “I have more than two brain cells to rub together, and every single one of them is telling me that I would have to be a total schmuck to ever hurt you the way he did. Because you are the most incredible person I have ever known.”

Midge looks at him with watery eyes and bites her lip in an attempt to stop them from overflowing. “I'm scared, Lenny,” she whispers.

He steps toward her, every instinct he has urging him to hold her, but he doesn’t. “Honey, I would rather spend twenty-four hours listening to the most boring woman on the planet” - he gestures toward the door - “than do anything to hurt you.” 

At this point, he’s helpless against his own urge to reach for her, and he takes her hand gently in one of his. “Lenny,” she breathes.

“Midge, I am...hopelessly in love with you,” he admits quietly. “And if you give me the chance, I will never leave you with or without your suitcase.”

He finally gets a quiet laugh out of her, and then they meet in the middle for a kiss.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers #angst #comfort #hurt #sweet

[mrs-solo-walker]

House at the ocean - August, 

Warnings : mention of violence,

Words : 1281

August leaves the agency 

(just a short one, with potential for more?)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Freeze, police.”

The cop pointed the gun at Ava and the mission was in danger of failing just before it was completed. Hunt was standing next to the entrance, not visible to the cop.

Suddenly, a whistle. A shot with a silencer. So not from the cop.

“August.”

Ava sank to the ground.

Hunt punched the cop down.

“No, no, no, Ava, fuck. An ambulance Hunt, fucking call an ambulance.”

Walker knelt by Ava and pressed his hand to the wound.

“Ava, fuck stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me. Where the fuck is the ambulance?”

“August I…” Ava reached for Walker’s hand.

“Take it easy Ava.”

As the sirens of the ambulance were heard Ava passed out.

“Ava, Ava…no Ava don’t do this to me.”

Whispered Walker barely audible.

“Walker come on, we need to get out of here.”

Said Hunt.

“No way I’m not leaving her.” 

“Walker the mission.”

“Fuck.”

Walker gave Ava a kiss on the forehead.

“Walker come on.”

Shouted Hunt.

“Fuck.”

Walker was torn, but finally ran and told the medic where he would find Ava.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Walker what’s going on? You’ve been sitting here at her bedside day after day for three months. The mission is over, we don’t need her anymore.”

Said Hunt uncomprehendingly.

“This is none of your business Hunt and now get out of this room. Or do I have to help?”

The deep baritone of his voice vibrated the room.

“All right, all right. Get back to me when you get past the Samaritan.”

“Go to hell Hunt.”

“The guy knows no human emotion except a sadistic delight in violence. Sits here in this room day and night for months, though. Do they know who she is by now, Benji?”

“Nothing, Ethan. She’s a ghost.”

“Fine, we’ll have to keep an eye on it.”

Hunt had Walker shadowed after Ava was able to be released from the hospital.

Weeks after starting surveillance, they finally had some success.

Walker drove around the block a few times to make sure no one was following him and parked the car in a small side alley. Took 3 grocery bags out of the trunk and made his way to a small nondescript house.

“Here he comes.”

Said Benji to Hunt. The two were sitting in an old Dodge from where they had been watching the house for several hours.

“Just a minute.”

As Walker stepped onto the porch, Hunt and Benji got out, running across the street.

“We need to talk Walker. And I don’t like to do it in the street.”

Said Hunt.

“Fuck, Hunt what are you doing here? I told you I was getting out. There’s nothing more to talk about.”

“Let’s go inside. Please. Unlock the door or we’ll have to kick it in.”

“Shit.”

Walker reluctantly unlocked the door.

“August, Honey is that you?”

“Yes it’s me, sit tight sweetheart.”

“Ethan, Benji I was wondering when you were going to get out of that car that’s been sitting across the street since this morning. Sit down.”

Benji and Hunt looked at each other in confusion.

“August I told you it’s not in their nature to just let things go.”

“Ava can I get you anything?”

“Why don’t you make us all some coffee please. I think this is going to be a longer conversation.”

“Fine, but you know what the doctor said, no fuss.”

“I’m fine honey.”

“Ava do you actually know who you’re looking at?”

Hunt asked incredulously.

“Just enlighten me Ethan.”

Ava seemed amused.

“I don’t know what you think you know, he’s one of the best CIA agents but he’s a devilish overly dangerous asshole who walks over dead bodies, he’s walked over dead bodies.”

“Who among us hasn’t?

Ava asked.

“He’s damn good at his job and he’s absolutely 100% reliable. Even if I often don’t approve of his methods. But judging him is not my job. Ahhh.”

Walker came out of the kitchen with the coffee.

“You okay?”

Walker put a tray on the table.

“You know talking is still hard. Fuck.”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

Hunt was getting nervous.

“Your mission was successful because I was there.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Hunt looked at Benji incredulously.

“Ethan my job was to watch your back. Do you seriously think I was there by accident? Do you really think I’m a bystander?

“You don’t know anything, about us, about the mission, and especially about him.”

Hunt pointed at Walker.

“You are in love God knows why but at the latest when you stand in his way and he kills you for his goal you will realize it, too late but still.”

Ava laughed.

“Ouch, fuck. August you might as well have told me that He has such a sense of humor. Your mission was only successful because I caught the bullet meant for August. Ethan, if it wasn’t for me, you’d all be dead.”

“Who are you.”

Benji asked.

“If then the question should be who was I, but that doesn’t matter anymore. And much more important to you Ethan and the IMF will be the question of who tried to kill you. August can you bring me a glass of water please?”

Wordlessly, Walker stood up.

“Ava do you understand, you have fallen in love with a killer to put it bluntly.”

“Please sweetheart. What did I miss?”

“Ethan is just laying out for me the qualities of my husband.”

“What?”

Benji looked at the two of them in utter disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ethan leaned forward, stunned.

“I don’t know what you get out of it Ethan trying to turn me against him.

But in all the years we’ve known each other, he’s always been the consummate gentleman and loving husband.

We’ve saved each other’s asses countless times. And our very last mission together will be to get out .”

Ava reached for a tube of pills.

“Walker as a loving husband you wouldn’t believe.”

Benji had to laugh at Hunt’s tone.

“Fuck Hunt, we don’t give a shit what you believe, I killed for that woman and I would do it again and again.”

“Ethan I’ll give you some well meaning advice, get out while you can and be happy.”

“That’s so easy to say.”

“Would it be possible for me to contact you in the next few days Ethan?”

“Sure gladly.”

“I’ll excuse myself now, but I need to lie down.”

“Wait I’ll help you. You Hunt wait here I’ll be right back.” Walker carried Ava into the bedroom.

“Baby girl, I’ll be right back with you.” Walker laid her down in bed and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Hunt, I never asked you for anything. This will be the first and last time.”

“You’re confusing me more and more Walker.”

“Hunt do you want to help us or not? We won’t be here much longer, but could you keep it to yourself that you found us?”

Hunt nodded.

“Take care Walker. One more question, how long have you and Ava been…?”

“Ten years tomorrow.”

“A hell of a long time in our job. Walker I hope I never see you again. And I mean that in the most positive way.”

“Me too.”

Walker locked the door behind Hunt and Benji.

“August, August come to me.”

Walker went to Ava’s bed lay down behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Are the pills working Sweetheart?”

“Yes, tell me about the place we’re going to live.”

Walker told her about the house and the amazing view of the ocean, the colors of the sunset and all the things they would do.

Soon…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

#august walker #august walker fanfic

[supercsi4]

Beautiful

02x10 Holiday Hookah

I’ve taken some time to recover and now I’m ready to write in coherent sentences.

I wasn’t sure if I was watching the real Abbott Elementary episode or a fanfic play out on my screen. I usually get home from work around midnight, and play on my phone while I’m watching tv, but the second I saw Janine in that dress, it caught my attention. Then when she turned around and saw Gregory in that perfectly fitted white sweater, I had to put my phone down and really pay attention. My curiosity was peaked as I wondered where this episode was heading.

Gregory convincing his friend Maurice to not go after Janine, then Gregory awkwardly strolling over to sit with her. Then convincing Janine to get up and dance with him. This is where the fanfic brain of mine takes over. They start platonically dancing as two co-workers would do, with plenty of space between them. Oh, and let’s address the elephant in the room. Before we dig on Gregory here, how serious are him and Amber. Maybe it’s just a casual thing. Now if they’re legit dating, then no, he should absolutely not have been dancing like that with Janine.

Back to the dance floor, another guy bumps into Janine pushing her into the arms of Gregory. Who, I’m sure at first wanted to fight the guy, but then was silently thanking him for doing it. Janine’s arms wrapped around him, she moves to pull away, but Gregory’s right hand on her back pulls her back into him. Straight out of a fanfic.

When I tell you my jaw dropped when they cut back to them dancing, Janine’s back to Gregory, their eyes closed, his right hand on her stomach and his left hand trailing up and down her arm, I was speechless. Like I had to pause the episode to double check that this was really the Abbott Elementary episode this week. We’ve all danced like this. We all know what the girl is grinding up against on the guy. This all happened so fast, like are they going to be sleeping together tonight?! Everyone calm down! Ok, deep breaths. Janine and Gregory are lost in each other, like they are the only two on the dance floor, no one else matters. They don’t care who sees them.

Ava was on point in this episode. Getting her jabs in, but in the end, also being there for Janine.

When Janine and Gregory leave to go get some air, again I’m glued to the screen. What’s gonna happen? How are they gonna analyze what just happened between them on that dance floor. But jesus help me, I did not see an almost kiss coming. I did not predict Gregory straight up calling her beautiful and Janine taking the first steps towards him. God damn the height difference because that kiss would have happened much easier. As much as I wanted a kiss, I’m glad Gregory’s phone rang, and he didn’t possibly cheat on Amber. I’m used to the very slow burn of two characters that need to hook up. And they will. In due time.

The first episode back is gonna be hella awkward between Janine and Gregory and I’m here for it. I’m gonna assume he breaks up with Amber, but will they talk about that night of dancing, the almost kiss. Stay tuned…

#abbott elementary #janine x gregory #jagory