but at least she can only bark

I had an Anon ask about the power dynamic between Holly Blue and the Famethyst, and how I feel it may have changed after That Will Be All. What’s important is that everyone would potentially benefit from it.. especially Holly. 

You figure, Holly Blue and the Famethyst have spent the last 5000+ years stationed together in space… alone. That’s a long ass time. We’ve seen how lovable and friendly the Amethysts are, even when there’s nothing to be gained from it. They’re a rowdy group but they’re all genuinely good people. How can anyone, even our Holly Blue, be immune to that irresistible Quartz charm?

She stands firm in her belief that she’s “above” them– not only as their manager in charge, but as a Gem. Her mistreatment of them is her way of upholding the status quo established by Homeworld. She remains cold, upright and bullheaded, ready to pounce at any given moment. It’s all very excessive and unnecessary, but it’s the only thing she knows how to do.

The Amethysts are just so freaking tired.

“Holly oh my fucking god, we’ve known you for centuries, can you please cut this shit already?”

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Saturday 7.33 am

Anita: Oh, Joël! You’ve still got your shoes on!

She immediately regrets saying it: she hates herself when she sounds more like his mother than his lover. Joël’s only response is to groan into his pillow. Guilt makes a tiny pucker between Anita’s eyebrows: He works so hard, the poor baby. She looks at the clock and calculates that she can let him sleep for at least another couple of hours before he has to shower and get ready for Roy’s barbecue. But then there is a pounding on the door, accompanied by barking and scratching. This time Joël’s groan sounds more like a muffled roar.

Joël: What. The. Actual. FU-

Anita patters across the room, opening the door to see Jared dancing up and down as if he is just about to wet his pants: Brutus has also been infected by his excitement and is yelping and jumping around, slobber flying everywhere.

Anita: Jared, please be quiet! Your father needs rest-

Jared’s eyes burn feverishly: he gives no indication of having heard her at all.

Jared: Are we going to see Freddie soon? How long before the barbecue? How many selfies do you think Freddie will let me take with him? Do you think he’ll autograph my Llamas shirt? Can we go soon? Is Dad going to wake up soon? Can we go soon? Can we? Can we?


Basically just a quick series of drabbles (one for each day we have to wait until Sunday) about Jon and Dany preparing to meet each other. Not a first meeting story. Updated daily 


He hasn’t been to White Harbor in years, but nothing’s changed in all that time-even though so many years have come and gone. The town is hunkered down against the cold, the doors of inns shut to keep out the chill, and what few people hurry past him with their heads bent against the wind are clad in heavy furs. They’re winter people, like he is. The blood of the North flows in their veins, keeping them warm on the coldest of nights. 

None of them seem to notice him or Davos or the contingent of guards that follow them a few paces back. He’s glad of it; he doesn’t want to have to explain where he’s going or why, when the controversy it wreaked at Winterfell was unbearable. 

He doesn’t want to be here, heading south, but he doesn’t have another choice. Daenerys Targaryen has dragonglass, which he needs more than he needs gold or a crown. He trusts Sansa; the North will be in good hands. It won’t be in anyone’s hands except the wights if he can’t convince the Dragon Queen to help him. 

“What do you think dragons look like, Ser Davos?” They’ve reached the dock, where a ship flying the Stark banner rocks and creaks at anchor. It’s a conversation piece more than anything else, to distract them from where they’re going and whatever might happen there. 

What will he do if the Queen refuses? She’s the last, best hope he has against the storm, but what if she doesn’t believe him? He can’t leave without dragonglass. 

“I’m not sure, your Grace,” Davos says as they board, looking vaguely disgruntled. “I suppose they’re large. More trouble than we need.”

White Walkers aside, Jon is inclined to agree. 


A raven arrives from Winterfell and just like that Jon Snow is sailing to meet her. 

Dany isn’t sure what to make of this new development-then again, she’s already run ragged with Yara’s capture and the deaths of two of the Sand Snakes. Yet another tally in Cersei’s book, another reason to make her pay with her head. The last thing she needs is another potential enemy. And she can’t tell what kind of person Jon will be. 

Tyrion hires more servants than she knows what to do with from the surrounding villages and puts them to work cleaning the castle top to bottom. She’s busy most of the time now, forming new contingency plans since her old ones have so obviously gone to hell.

She drinks every once in a while now. She’s starting to see why Tyrion likes it so much. 

Sometimes, when she has down time, she thinks about Melisandre’s words. The Princess who was Promised. As if maybe she has to do more than win a war with a pyschotic queen; if the red priestess can be believed, the real enemy hasn’t yet shown its hand. How much is she expected to do? And what kind of role does Jon have to play in the events to come? 

She doesn’t believe in soulmates and she doesn’t believe in prophecy. She wouldn’t believe in magic, either. But isn’t she proof of that? If dragons exist, why shouldn’t wights? 

Even so, she tries not to think about it. 

But sometimes she can’t help it-during her meetings she’ll find herself looking out to sea even though she knows there’s no feasible way the Northerners could have arrived yet. 

She can’t help wondering what the King in the North will look like-will he be another enemy, or ally? He has to be delusional, because if he’s not…what could possibly be coming next? 


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Even though CS wasn’t in this video, we STILL got stuff

1:37 - Cami asks KJ to do an impression of someone until one of them figures out who it is. Mads starts saying “we already know who it’s gonna be” and then Cami quickly adds “it has to be someone in this room, I guess?” and then Ash clarifies “In this, in this room” and Cami clarifies even more “like in this little group” I’m guessing our first instinct is the same first instinct that Mads has. It was CS. It will always be CS, so they clarified three different times that it had to be someone physically in the room with them. Not in LA or in another room, which CS was, but in that room. Ergo “no, KJ, it cannot be CS”

3:11 - KJ gets “what was the most embarrassing thing you did while on a date?” And LR chimes in “do you date?” at which point Mads hits her. It’s like she’s trying to make him say CS’ name throughout this entire video. She fails btw.

Cami adds “yeah, do you go on dates?” Of course the answer is no, but of all the people to get this question, it’s the boy that is very much not single and has probably only been on a few dates with anyone but his S/O in his lifetime. He responds quietly with “every now and then I go on a little date,” which doesn’t exactly suggest dating, but more of something you’d do with a partner. Something Casey sort of confirms by saying “I’ve seen it” and KJ responds with “Yeah casey came….” and stops himself and starts laughing, what did Casey walk in on exactly….It seems like KJ’s dating history is an inside joke between the cast. I’m almost 99% sure that between this question and the dancing question it was clear CS shouldn’t be in the room for these.  

3:32 - The only story he can think of has to do with one of the first dates he ever went on. Likely because those are the only dates that ever involved a girl. The story wasn’t even that good, like it was super lame, just saying.

3:57 - Casey said he’d stand in line to get an autograph or a hug from CS and KJ and LR literally have the same reaction. They both nod their head like “you’re pathetic.” It’s so clear KJ wants to say something, so when LR says “that’s tragic” KJ barks out a laugh, like he now at least has an excuse to make a noise.

5:02 - LR gets a dare that she has to speak like an alien for the rest of the game. Casey says “you can’t speak until you figure it out” and then KJ speaks and says something that shows his real feelings of LR. “You don’t have to speak.” And you can tell, even though he’s smiling, he’s entirely serious.

5:27 - KJ has a visceral reaction to this dare. There are so many possible reasons. First, it’s possible the only person he’d willing sit on is CS. Secondly, it’s possible it reminds him too much of a daddy kink and he doesn’t want to even slightly imply he knows shit about that, though, given his reaction, he kind of made it worse.

6:17 - They have to read out the last text they sent, so why did KJ keep scrolling? If it was the last text, shouldn’t it be on top, but you watch him scroll for Mads’ entire answer. Very much wondering what his real last text was….

Heteronormativity’s Nightmare, out.


AU spinoff of #TFW adopts a monster ‘verse, set in an animal adoption center.

Warnings: some indistinct shadows of smutty thoughts

Words: 2,700

Shoutout to @fantastically-fictional for sparking this idea, and happy belated birthday to @thebest-medicine!

“Thank you. This room will be open again after feeding time is over.”

Castiel ushers the last visitors out into the hallway as he follows. The door, honey-colored wood with a large pane of wired glass embedded in its upper half, clicks shut behind him, followed by the light hiss of the sealant system. The pheromones that would shortly pump into the room are fairly harmless to people, but it always sends the critters inside into a bit of a tizzy, and rowdy animals don’t get adopted. Cas had been hired here less than two weeks ago, but that much is already obvious.

The three-year-old girl with the purple coat is fussing at the closed door. Her tiny fingers curl at the frame of the glass, trying in vain to pull herself up to see the “woopers” some more, until her father deftly redirects her toward the kitty room down the hall.

Cas has never understood why people liked loopers, anyway. Cats are soft and cute, and the shelter cycles through them at a good pace. Dogs are enthusiastically loving, although loud, and their playfulness is always a hit with families. Sure, loopers can be great service animals, and most kids weirdly like them, but what’s the appeal in a pet that is neither fluffy nor adorable? Invisible animals have to lose the novelty sooner or later; not to even mention the tentacles. (Cas squirms his shoulders uncomfortably.) Plus, feeding them is bizarre. The artificial pheromones have gotten a lot better at fulfilling the looper’s nutritional needs over the last decade or so, but still. Feeding a pet via gas chamber is never going to seem normal to Cas.

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Does Your Dog Bite?

Alistair blinked. Stared. Quickly counted one more time.

There were three mabari in the camp.

They didn’t have three mabari. There was Momo, and Barkspawn, and that was it. Why were there three mabari?

Momo sat obediently, mouth hanging open, tongue lolling out as though nothing were amiss. Beside him, Barkspawn was barely able to stay seated, excited to resume the exercises and training.

And then… the third dog.

Gazza was snickering beside him. Alistair rounded on her and exclaimed, “That’s not my dog.” She grinned and shrugged.

“I not know him either,” she signed. With the way she was grinning however, Alistair wasn’t so sure. He narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” he declared bluntly. Gazza held up her hands in amused surrender, but she was still. Grinning.

“It is true!”

Alistair turned back to the dog. Observed the thing. It looked like a female, and he hoped that she wasn’t there to… get naughty with Barkspawn or Momo… She had darker coloring than the both of them, which was interesting. She wasn’t any smaller though. Very rarely were mabari sexes different sizes, Alistair knew that at least. And she seemed very… sure of herself. Like she knew she wasn’t the runt of the group.

He knelt down and stared hard at the dog. She stared back. Grinned in that way that only dogs could. Yipped and reached out a paw to Alistair. Alistair held up a warning hand and leveled the dog with a stern glare.

“Alright, fine, you can stay. For today. I don’t know who you are, but so long as you don’t sell us out to the darkspawn, you’re fine in my book.” The dog barked and actually nodded, and Alistair shot her a perplexed look, but recovered quickly and stood to his feet.

“Not a word,” he said to Gazza, still smirking beside him. “Let’s just get to the training. Okay!” He clapped his hands and turned to the dogs. “Barkspawn, Momo!” He paused, wondering what to call the third dog. “…Dog.” The third mabari barked. Alistair sighed in relief. “Over there and line up.” They were doing charges today. A little skirmishing to help Alistair and Gazza practice dealing with animal attacks. The damn blight wolves from the last battle had left an impression.

Barkspawn and Momo went to the area specified. Dog went to stand opposite them. She barked. Alistair shook his head and indicated to the space beside Momo.

“No, no, no, stand over there,” he commanded. Dog barked again and sat where she was. Alistair sighed in frustration. “No. Over there.” Again, Dog barked and didn’t move. Alistair groaned and walked over to where Dog sat. He knelt down in front of her and held his hands out impatiently.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” he asked, slowing his speech as he spoke, not really bothering to hide his annoyance. Maybe this was more mutt than purebred mabari. She did look like a purebred, and there were no obvious features that Alistair could spot that immediately distinguished the mutts from the purebred, but then what did Alistair know about dog breeds?

Dog barked happily and reached out a paw to bat at Alistair’s face. He yelped and pulled back, pointing a stern finger in her direction. Somewhere behind him, Gazza wasn’t even bothering to hide her chuckles.

“No,” Alistair ordered firmly. “No, we do not boop other people’s noses during training. No.” Dog huffed a bark and nodded in a way that left Alistair under the distinct impression that he was being mocked. His eyes narrowed. “Are you taking any of this seriously–”

Dog barked before he could finish and pushed forward so that her paws rested on Alistair’s shoulders. Instinctively, Alistair reached out to steady the creature, though his glare was still in place. Why did mabari love to interrupt him so much?! At least Momo was polite.

Turning his attention back to Dog, Alistair opened his mouth to speak - this training session was not going very well - when something suddenly shifted. He felt the familiar tingle of magic, and along with it the urge to nullify it, and then suddenly Dog wasn’t a dog anymore.

Dog was Aja.

Alistair froze. His mind stalled. His jaw dropped.

Because yes, that was definitely Aja, right where, a second ago, there had been a mabari. She was sitting on her knees, hands on Alistair’s shoulders, his hands on her waist. And she was grinning too, in that way that made her eyes crinkle and her cheeks bunch.

Alistair stared, mouth agape.

Gazza barked out a laugh and that was what finally startled him out of his haze of confusion.

“What!?” He cried, pushing himself back from Aja, feeling a blush work its way up his cheek. She let him go, some concern mixing with the amusement in her expression.

“Alistair–” she started.

“You were a dog!” Alistair interrupted, almost accusingly, and Aja leaned forward on her knees.

“Yes,” she confirmed. Alistair took a moment to process the whole thing. His eyes went from the real mabari to Aja and then back again. He glared at Aja.

“You were a mabari, and…”

Aja sighed at that, “Oh, Alistair. I shifted. I am a mage, if you’ll remember, and shapeshifting is something that some mages can do.”

Alistair felt a touch indignant at that. “I remember! Excuse me for not thinking every animal I meet is secretly a mage!” For a moment Aja looked uncertain.

“Alistair, it was just–”

“I know, I get it, just a joke, right,” he deadpanned, hands raised in a mock gesture of surrender. “Only I wasn’t aware it was ‘make fun of Alistair’ day.” Aja was looking more and more uncertain so Alistair decided to take pity on her. This was nowhere near the worst prank he’d endured at the hands of his fellow Grey Wardens. And, if he was being perfectly honest, it was pretty clever.

Grinning slightly, Alistair leaned back on his hands. “I would have worn something nice for the occasion. You should have told me.” Aja hesitated and gave Alistair an assessing look. Alistair shot her a wink and she rolled her eyes, tension leaving her shoulders.

“I’m very sorry for hurting your feelings, Alistair,” Aja said, smile growing more confident.

“You should be. They’re very sensitive.” Playing the put upon victim, Alistair heaved a dramatic sigh and dew the back of his hand over his forehead. That was how people swooned, right?

“Poor dear. Shall I let you get back to your training? Will that make you feel better?” Aja asked, amusement clear in her voice.

“It just might,” Alistair conceded, playful reluctance in his voice. “But I might need some of those fancy cakes from the Denerim market too. And maybe a frilly hat.” Aja chuckled. Alistair fought the urge to preen and went on. “But I suppose for today the training will have to do.”

“Well, you’ll be a bit late, but better late than never,” Aja said, looking over Alistair’s shoulder.

“What?” Alistair turned and scanned the field, sagging a bit and letting out a disgruntled “oh” when he saw Gazza going through drills with the mabari. Clearly she’d gotten bored and had decided to start without him. Alistair pouted. “Well that’s just rude.”

Aja snorted and shook her head. “Well you should get to it before she trains Barkspawn to listen to her and not you.” She giggled as though she’d just told the best joke in all of Thedas and it was Alistair’s turn to roll his eyes.

He stood to his feet and offered Aja a hand, shooting her a look of mock suspicion once they were on their feet.

“You’re not going to be sneaking around as a mabari this time, are you?”

Aja held up a hand as though swearing an oath. “On my honor as a Grey Warden, you have my word that there shall be no more… shifty sneaking.” She paused and silently surveyed Alistair for a moment. Her brow scrunched and she bit her lip thoughtfully. Alistair watched her with a wary eye. What exactly was she thinking? He could feel his face going hot under the scrutiny.

He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, Aja’s face turned suddenly mischievous, eyes twinkling, lips curling. And then, in a second it was gone, and her face assumed as serious an expression as she could manage.

“Alistair,” she began, her tone utterly professional. Alistair didn’t trust it. “I hope you have a very productive training session. Make a lot of progress, you know.”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed.

“Thank you…”

Aja nodded firmly. And then took two steps forward and lightly tapped Alistair’s nose before he could stop her.

“Good luck!” she called, turning and jogging away as Alistair gawped after her.

“Did you just–!?”

Did she just boop his nose?

Someone whistled.

Still slightly dazed, Alistair turned and saw Zevran, Leliana, and Tristan grinning at him from across the field. Zevran was giving him a thumbs-up and gesturing with his other hand as though urging Alistair to give chase.

“Some people have all the luck with the women!” He called. Alistair blushed and glared.

“Oh shut up!”

From now on, he was going to be doing closed training sessions.

A/N: …’Zat is not my dog.

I typed this during an eight hour drive back home from a family visit (don’t worry, I wasn’t doing the driving) and my brain is fried.

Regardless, if you have a shifter for a mage, there better be some pranking going on.  For Aja’s part, she honestly kind of stinks at it, but she tries!  She’s no Anders (I headcanon that he was big on the pranking while at the Circle) and she’s much better at getting pranked than doing the pranking herself, but thankfully being around characters like Alistair, Leliana, and Zevran has boosted her confidence a bit.

Also, this is what courting looks like, this is how mages court people, can’t you tell?  Alistair’s being courted right now.

mermbernation  asked:


(No more pairing requests please.)

1. Angst

Idiot that he is, it takes Ichigo a year to realize that - without his powers - Rukia will not come see him again.

2. AU

They nail their final throw triple axel, and the crowds are on their feet cheering before they’re even finished. The music comes to an end, the skating rink trembles with the audience’s standing ovation, and Rukia flings herself into Ichigo’s arms before they take their bows, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

They’re definitely going to the World Championships.

3. Crack

“I’m not marrying you unless you get the priest to dress up as Chappy!”

4. Future fic

“Ichigo! That better not be an actual sword you’re teaching our daughter to hold! She’s not even five yet!”

“Never too early to learn, right Hisa-chan?”

“Right, Tou-chan!”

“Kurosaki Hisana, put that sword down right now! Ichigo, don’t make me make you sleep on the couch tonight!”

5. First time (meeting after Ichigo dies)

Orange brows furrow in confusion. “Who are you?”

Rukia’s hands clench at her side, then unclench. She summons a smile, a little pained even as her eyes take him in hungrily. “I’m Rukia, you fool. And you’re late, but that’s okay. I’m kind of used to it by now.”

Ichigo smiles back, bewildered and a little uncertain, but when Rukia takes another step forward, his gaze zeroes in on the necklace she’s wearing, a wedding gift from him once upon a time, and something like recognition sparks in his eyes.

6. Fluff

Rukia sits up with a yawn, rubbing sleepily at one eye. “Ichigo?”

The refreshing scent of green tea makes her smile, and when she opens her eyes, Ichigo’s already sitting down on the edge of the bed, extending a perfectly made cup of tea.

“You didn’t have to,” She murmurs even as she sips at the liquid. “I’m not sick anymore.”

Ichigo shrugs. “I can’t give you tea if you’re not sick?”

Rukia rolls her eyes but her smile widens as she snuggles into Ichigo’s side.

7. Humor

“I am not dressing up as Chappy for Halloween! I don’t freaking care if we’ll match!”

8. Hurt/Comfort

“Ichigo!” Rukia races onto the battlefield, leaping over the latest megalomaniac’s bloodied form - she hopes he’s dead, after the bastard killed Karin - without so much as a hitch and scrambling over to Ichigo’s side. “Ichigo! Are you okay?”

Ichigo grunts out something more like vague acknowledgement than reassurance. He tries to push himself up into a sitting position, only to cough and double over, and Rukia’s all over that in a second.

“Lie back down, fool!” She barks, pushing him back down gently. She only knows basic healing kidou - which is pretty stupid actually, she really should learn more, if only for Ichigo’s sake - but she can patch up at least a bit of his injuries right now and-

“Hey,” Ichigo interrupts her thoughts, and he’s struggling to sit up again. “Hey, could you just-”

His expression does something complicated but Rukia reads it in an instant. She hesitates, eyeing his wounds, but then, if he isn’t dead yet, he’ll live, so in the end, she just sighs and wraps Ichigo in a hug, too tight to keep from causing pain but Ichigo’s clutching back at her just as tightly, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining the dampness that’s soaking her neck.

She hopes that bastard burns in Hell for eternity.

(A/N: My prompt for this picture- hope you enjoy!)

Felicity covered her mouth with her hand as she tore through the building, which was now being engulfed in flames. Heat surrounded her, flames threatened to cover every part of her body. But she pushed through.

“Oliver, Oliver!” She shouted, grabbing the collar of her shirt to cover her mouth. 

“Felicity! He’s in the back!” Diggle’s voice shouted over the comm. She burst through the building, and out of the large hole in the wooden door she’d guessed one of the guys made.

It was stupid. The mission was to grab catch an up-and-coming gang crew from making a black market trade. While Starling busied itself in reconstruction, the gang decided the confusion within the city was the perfect cover to move the large order of illegal firearms. But the gang had caught wind of the Arrow zeroing in on their headquarters and, in a panic, decided to blow up the entire building. While, you know, Oliver was inside.

“Where is he?” She shouted, scouring the back field of the building. 

“I had to drag him behind the large pile of car parts- I’m getting the car now! Roy’s on his way with the fire department!” Diggle shouted back. 

Felicity’s eyes scanned the field. It was well into the night, and the only source of light was from the flaming building behind her. She coughed; the air was thick with dark smoke and soot. She took a couple of steps and then- there. In the back corner. The pile of car parts.

She sprinted towards it, nearly tripping twice over discarded pieces of metal on the ground. She gasped when she saw a pair of legs sticking out from behind the pile.

“Oliver- Oliver!” She shouted, rounding the pile. She threw herself over his laying, unmoving body. His green leathers were covered in a thick dusting of soot. His gloves were nowhere to be seen, his bow lay haphazardly beside him. The hood was pulled over his head, his eyes closed tight.

“Felicity, I’m three minutes out! How is he?” Diggle asked.

“He’s unconscious!” She cried, her hands reaching up to pull his hood off. His face was caked in soot, his eyes still shut tight. She grabbed his shoulders, tears streaming down her face. “Oliver, Oliver! Wake up! You have to wake up!”

“I’m coming ‘round! SCPD’s behind me!" 

It seemed like forever, but when Diggle finally arrived, he froze at the sight of Oliver. Just as he’d said, Roy was right behind them. While SCFD worked with SCPD to try to extinguish the fire, Roy helped Diggle grab Oliver’s still-unconscious body and pull him into the truck. 

"He’s breathing, Felicity. He’s alive,” Roy reassured her as she hopped into the back with Oliver. 

Diggle tore through the industrial district of Starling, taking the fastest back roads back to their new Foundry.

“Oliver, please,” She pleaded. With shaky hands she grabbed the zipper of his hood and tugged at it, grunting as she fought the thick leather off his body. She gasped. His hands were black against his skin, and the white shirt he wore was torn at the bottom of the v-neck. Dried smoke and soot covered his neck and most of his face.

“Is he up?” Roy asked from the front.

“No- he’s not waking up!” She cried, turning her attention back to Oliver. “Come on, come on! Please! Wake up!”

And suddenly, her lips were on his. She pressed herself harder against him, her cheeks sticky from her tears. She pleaded against his lips, begging him to move, to do anything. Hell, she’d even take him pushing away from her. As long as it meant he was conscious. 

And then he did. He groaned and she pulled away, shocked as he exploded into a fit of coughs. 

“Felicity?” He said in awe, his eyes searching hers. “I- Wha- What happened?”

“You got trapped in the fire,” She explained, new tears forming in her eyes. “Digg got you out, but you weren’t- you were unconscious and I thought-”

“I dreamt I was kissing you,” He blurted out. “It was dark- that’s all I remember. And then I was kissing you.”

She blinked at him, her hands still twisted in his white shirt. “I- Yeah. That- that actually happened. Well technically, kissed you, but I had to make sure you were- Mmph!”

His lips crashed against hers, his hand reaching back to cup her head, pressing her harder against him. She froze, but only for a second because in the next instant her arms flew around his neck, and they were both falling backwards on the van’s hard, cold floor. 

“What the hell was that?” Diggle asked from the front. 

Roy looked over the divider and smirked. “Holy shit. You’d think after all the times Oliver’s nearly died, this is the time she kisses him.”

“They’re what?” Diggle barked out a laugh, adjusting his rearview mirror to take a peek at them. “Well at least Oliver’s alive.”

“He’s making out with Felicity. He can die a happy man,” Roy smirked.

“Shut up!” Oliver shouted from the back. 

Diggle laughed and shook his head, then readjusted his mirror again. “It’s about damn time- I’m just saying.”

“You owe me fifty bucks,” Roy said, slapping him on the arm. 

“You made a bet?” Felicity shot up, glaring at the back of Roy’s head. Suddenly, Diggle made a sharp turn, making Felicity yelp as she was thrown against the side of the van. Oliver’s arms wrapped protectively around her, pulling her back to him. 

“Hi,” He smiled, looking up at her. She’d landed right on top of him, her hands flat against the floor beside his head.

“They made a bet,” She said pointedly.

“I know,” He admitted. “You have soot on your face.”

“You knew? How-”

But she couldn’t finish her question. Oliver’s lips were on hers again, and every coherent thought melted away. His hand delved into her hair, pulling away at her ponytail. She moaned and pressed herself harder against him, running her hands through his short hair. 

“We don’t need to have the safety talk do we?” Roy laughed from the front.

“Shut up!” They shouted in unison, with the addition of Felicity chucking Oliver’s dirty leather jacket at his head.

@lykeleia​ suggested a flip on the Empress and Captain AU, a more “light-side” type of situation
Rey is the Duchess of Mandalore (like grandma, but more warrior and on-the-side pacifist) and Ben is a Jedi guard
Aaaand @undermoonlit-skies put up a drawing for it!

He was tall, pompous, and annoying. He acted as though she couldn’t take care of herself (she could, thank you, she was a Force sensitive too, though he wasn’t paying enough attention to notice). She was in charge of a planet, he was just one measly Jedi.

Her advisors thought it would be good to increase her security, what with the new threats on neutral parties ever growing in the news. The Jedi were as neutral as black was white, but there were few other options for a world that kept switching its allegiances whenever the tides took a turn.

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Oh my god I am SO fucking DONE with this dog! 

We’re home alone, it’s past midnight, it’s proper early autumn dark outside and out of nowhere Sparta just starts barking. Now, a couple of soft woofs is normal, and we’ve heard the alerting yap, but this is full on guttural top-of-her-lungs BARKING and I just go “FUCK my LIFE that fucking fox is in the fucking chicken coop again and this time I’m gonna get close enough to physically kick his furry butt all the way to Greenland.” So I throw on some slippers and grab a flashlight and run outside and down to the chickens - and find nothing. I can still hear Sparta barking in the house. Walk around for a bit and still find nothing, go back up and let her out to see if she at least can find the track. Out on the steps she gets even worse, not just barking now but puffing herself up, hackles raised, flagging tail and apparently ready to take on the entire Persian army. I go in the direction she points to only to find that my fucking idiot dog just went completely ballistic over this guy crossing the very bottom of our garden: