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bambirex · 1 year

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I love your writing so much I’m obsessed so that’s why I been thinking on requesting steddie as Robin and Ted (himym) in that episode where Robin gets sick so it’s basically Eddie sick and Steve taking care of him they’re not together but they been flirting non stop and so Eddie is on his bed all sick and Steve is taking care of him and tries to kiss Eddie but he is like “oh you don’t want to kiss me, you’ll get sick” but Steve kisses him anyway and a week later Eddie is taking care of Steve and he is like discussing with Eddie the fact he got sick and Steve is like “Totally worth it”

Aww, thank you so much, it means a lot! 💕 I actually haven't seen himym so I'm just going off on a tangent here!

Warnings: none

Even with alarmingly pale cheeks, fever-red eyes and chapped lips, Eddie was still the most handsome man Steve has ever seen in his life.

And he has been seeing him a lot lately, as he took on the duty of taking care of Eddie, despite the latter's almost aggressive insistence that he didn't need a fussing mother hen around. He did grumble a bit at the beginning, very embarrassed by all the coddling, but now it seemed like he got used to it. Perhaps enjoyed it, even.

"Here's your tea," Steve announced as he placed the steaming mug down on the coffee table. Eddie stretched, his smile a little weak from exhaustion.

"That's like my fifth mug today, Harrington."

"You're getting a sixth later."

Eddie chuckled and rolled his eyes, but he reached for the mug anyway. Steve couldn't help but feel at least a little proud. Eddie flat-out told him that if anyone else tried to force him to stay in bed and drink that much tea, they would be flying out the window, but not Steve. For some reason, Eddie let Steve take care of him the way he deserved.

This fact made Steve's heart flutter inside his chest.

They had been hanging out a lot lately, even before Steve practically moved into Eddie's trailer to take care of him. They had gotten closer, and several of their interactions became a little... flirty? Maybe that was the best word Steve could use to describe it. Eddie was very affectionate with him, putting his hand on his knee while they sat next to each other, bumping their shoulders together when they walked. He spoke so softly to Steve, and always joked about how Steve was looking out to be perfect boyfriend material.

Steve always believed those flirty jokes were just that: jokes, nothing more. But he couldn't help it that his heart always beat so fast around Eddie, and he certainly couldn't help it when he heard that Eddie was feeling unwell. He practically rushed over to his place, because he wanted to be by his side as soon as possible.

Whether Eddie felt the same, he was unsure. He watched him sip his tea slowly, the light glinting off his rings as he held the mug. He had very long lashes, Steve noticed, which fluttered while he drank. For a second, he looked up at Steve over the rim of his mug and shot him a small smile. Steve bit his lip as he felt his cheeks heat up.

"You know," Eddie started, his voice hoarse, "I'm feeling better. You don't need to stay at my side all day."

"You want me to leave?" Steve couldn't mask the hurt in his voice. Sure, if he annoyed Eddie, he was more than willing to give him space, but the idea that Eddie might not want him there, even while sick and in need of some help simply broke his heart.

Eddie must have noticed that, because he suddenly reached for Steve's hands. His skin was cold and clammy from the fever, but Steve still held onto his hand almost desperately.

"I didn't say that," Eddie clarified. "I just don't want you to whither away at my side while you could be doing anything else."

"I like taking care of you," Steve replied quietly. "It's a... me thing."

Eddie snorted softly, an almost cheeky glint in his eye.

"You mean a mama bear thing?"

Steve let out an offended gasp, which soon turned into a grin when Eddie started laughing. It was a very weak, half-coughing sound, but it was still the most beautiful thing Steve has ever heard.

Silence fell on them afterwards. Eddie put his empty mug down, rubbing at his sore temples. Steve wondered what Eddie would do if he reached out and cupped his cheek, if he leaned in and kissed him. Would he get mad? Would he tell him where to shove it?

There was only one way to find out. And Steve has been through way too much shit to waste his life forever wondering.

He leaned in slowly, never taking his eyes off Eddie's face. Eddie's eyes widened when he realized what Steve was doing, but there was no disgust, no anger, or pity in those eyes.

Yet, he did stop Steve with a gentle hand on his shoulder just before their lips could meet. Steve blinked, then his cheeks reddened in shame. He clearly fucked this up, he definitely misread the signs.

"I want nothing more than to kiss you," Eddie reassured him, as if reading his thoughts, "but first of all, I'm gross and snotty, and I don't want you to get sick either."

"That's the only reason you don't want it?" Steve perked up, his voice wavering with hope. Eddie nodded with a smile, gently caressing Steve's cheek.

"Yeah. Otherwise I would already be kissing you."

"Well," Steve chuckled, cupping Eddie's face, "I don't give a shit if I get sick."

With that, he finally pressed their lips together. It was even better than he imagined it would be, even with Eddie sick: his hands found their way into Eddie's hair while Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him close until Steve was perched on his lap. They kissed for long minutes before Eddie announced that he couldn't breathe anymore.

About a week later, they switched roles with Steve coughing up his lungs in his bed and Eddie staying at his bedside, holding his hand.

"See, I told you," Eddie sighed, gently kissing his sick boyfriend's knuckles, "you kissed me, and now you're sick."

To that, Steve only chuckled weakly. He rolled to his side, peering up at Eddie from under his heavy eyelids with a hopefully dreamy smile. It just probably looked very weak, but who cared? He was the happiest man on Earth now, even with a high fever.

"It was totally worth it," he replied honestly. Eddie rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his lips as he kissed Steve on the forehead.

#steddie #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #request

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sophsun1 · 2 years

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One of the things I loved the most in the whole series, despite being hurtful, was Brian saying in s5: “My mother was a frigid bitch. My father was an abusive drunk. They had a hateful marriage, which is probably why I am unwilling or unable to form a committed long-term relationship of my own. The fact that I drink like a fish, abuse drugs, and have more or less redefined promiscuity doesn't help, much. As a result, I've lost the two people in my life that mean most to me.”

what do you think about this? Have a good day!

Hey anon!

Oh my god that scene is also one of my favourites for so many reasons. Brian's childhood and the effect it has on him as an adult is the part I relate to from his character. Not so much the casual sex/drinking/drugs part lmao but his view on love and relationships and why he is the way he is because of his parents.

It's a powerful and poignant reminder that despite the way Brian presents himself as someone who's unaffected by the heartbreak and pain he suffers in his relationships he's actually very self aware. All the other times we've seen him across the series coping with either the breakdown of his friendship with Michael, relationship heartbreak with Justin or his abusive parents. He's put up a front of 'It's fine, I'm not bothered, water off a ducks back' and he self destructs with drink or drugs but we the audience know it's not true.

This is the first time we hear him voice it himself that he knows he's a mess, he knows he has dangerously unhealthy coping mechanisms. Suffering through his abusive parents marriage, being physically abused by his father and then on top of that their homophobia towards him, did indeed leave him with scars. It circle's back to the "I don't believe in love, I believe in fucking" speech he gives Justin in 1x02. This is why he's always held those beliefs because your first experience of love undoubtedly comes from your parents relationship with each other and with yourself as a child.

To be honest I think when Ted asks him to say how he feels and to unburden himself he's not really expecting him to say what he does. He's probably waiting for the classic Kinney sarcastic reply or I don't need to talk about my feelings like some lesbian joke. But what he gets is a very raw and vulnerable Brian who admits that yes he's devastated over losing both the love of his life and his best friend. The two people who've shaped him as person and helped him grow over the five years. Who would've thought that season one Brian Kinney would ever get to a point where he would admit this out loud. He hasn't even told Justin he loves him... and yet he tells Ted he's come so far. Though I do love his "no but I'm sure you do" line at the end you know he's gotta combat all the emotional unburdening with some snark :)

Also I love, love, love that it's Ted he has this emotional moment with. Ted and Brian who at the start of the series could not have been further apart in their friendship. Ted who was always jealous of Brian and thought he had it so easy because he was beautiful and charming and got all the guys. What could he ever have to worry about? And Brian who thought Ted was just a pathetic mess that would end up alone because he was so afraid of rejection would be the LAST person he would open up to about something so personal. I adore the progression of their friendship into genuine mutual care and respect for each other and for me personally the relief of it not being Michael who gets to have the deep emotional chat with Brian where we see his inner most thoughts because that just became so repetitive for me.

#britin #queer as folk #brian kinney #ted schmidt #my heart breaks for him #but im proud of him too #yk #5x08 #one of the scenes #season five delivers on #soph asks #i have the cutest anons

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r-we-taire-yet · 1 year

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"About the baby... it's yours..."

---

Ted watched the snow fall gently to the ground outside Beanies as he held his Frappuccino and avoided looking at the woman across from him. Charlotte was as beautiful as ever, but looking at her right now was utterly painful. She'd announced to the office earlier in the week that she was pregnant, and it was like a stab in the chest.

Oh sure, he knew there was a chance it was his, but if it was? What then? Charlotte wasn't going to leave her husband. She'd been refusing to do that for years now, and if she was openly telling people she was pregnant, she definitely was trying to pass the baby off as Sam's. If she was, Ted would be left with nothing, no connection to his child without fucking everyone over by demanding a DNA test.

But why would he do that? He would be a shit dad, that was just a fact, and any kid that shared his DNA was doomed from birth. The Spankoffski family name was a curse in this town. If he had a kid, that kid would be just as fucked over as him and Peter were just by virtue of being in his family. Any kid would be better off not having his last name, and would be better off not having him as a father. He was a sleazy bastard that shouldn't be allowed around kids due to how horrible of an influence he would be.

There was no way to know who the father was anyway! He knew for a fact that Charlotte had been sleeping with other men too. Ted was over-thinking everything, it was more likely that he wasn't the father than it was likely that he was... but why did that idea hurt too? Some part of him wanted the baby to be his, some part of him wanted desperately to have a child of his own. The fear of turning into his own father was crippling, but at the same time, the idea of the baby not being his hurt him to his core.

Was it the selfish desire for unconditional love, or was it the idea of having a reason to a good person again that drew him? A baby is a reason to be soft again, to be kind again. It was a reason to stop being such an asshole. Of course a child isn't a tool and it wasn't unconditional love. But having a baby would be a reason he could stop acting like this, and people would have more reason to believe his change was genuine. A baby is someone who needs you, who looks up to you and loves you. Being a parent was one of the most terrifying jobs in the world, but it seemed so rewarding. He could almost imagine playing dress up and taking his kid for ice cream and helping with homework.

An excuse to be soft again. An excuse to be Teddy again rather than 'the horny bastard'. A different role to play that might make people hate him less. All he'd ever wanted was attention and love and he'd failed at it his entire life. Being a parent would give him someone in the world that wanted his attention, that loved him, that needed him. Ted wanted that more than anything now that the idea had come to him, but no.

No.

Even if the baby was his, he wouldn't get to raise it, he wouldn't get to be its father. The baby may not ever know that he existed. Charlotte wouldn't leave Sam, so Sam would be the baby's father, and that neglectful, cheating asshat was going to raise his child. Honestly, that idea was even worse than the disappointment of not being the father.

"Why'd you invite me for coffee, Charlotte?" Ted said after a long silence as he turned to look at her.

"We need to talk," she said quietly, looking down at her coffee.

"About?" Ted asked.

"About the baby... it's yours..." Charlotte said quietly.

Huh. Okay. Genuinely, Ted had expected her to not say a word to him about this at any point. "How do you know?"

"I stopped sleeping with my therapist months ago, and Sam hasn't so much as looked at me for more than seven weeks. I don't think he's aware of that yet, or he would have gotten real mad when the test came back positive, but I remember," Charlotte said.

Ted sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "Okay, so what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. I don't know what to do and you're as much at fault in this as me."

"Leave him," Ted said quickly.

"Ted-"

"Leave him. I don't want that man raising my child. What if it has my hair? My eyes? What if it's fucking obvious the kid isn't his and he takes his anger about that out on the baby? He's a cop, Charlotte, he can do whatever he wants, and I don't want him to use that against my child," Ted said.

Charlotte sighed and covered her eyes. "He won't let me divorce him without a fight. He doesn't love me anymore but I'm his wife, he won't like me trying to leave. Like you said, he's a cop, he can get away with anything. And even if I do manage to leave him safely, I'll be a single mother-"

"You don't have to be a single mother! I'm right here, and I've been begging you to leave him for ages! I am right here, Charlotte. Look at me!" Ted exclaimed.

Charlotte looked up with tearful, worried eyes.

"I love you, okay? We'll figure this out together. We have to be a team now. No more bullshit," Ted said.

"No more bullshit," Charlotte agreed, smiling ever so slightly at the idea of having someone in her corner. "Do you promise you won't abandon us?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Ted said.

#hatchetfield #charted #ted spankoffski #charlotte sweetly

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thxtandromedatonks · 10 months

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He slipped his arm round her waist and pulled her in gently to him. His fingers twisting round hers as they swayed gently to the music. Their own perfect moment completely away from the craziness that was going on behind them. They weren't a couple that particularly liked having eyes on them but that day they had no choice in the matter. Although she was quite certain their day had been turned into something else with the amount of people around that they both knew for a fact still didn't trust her. But those conversations were for another day. For another time. The happiness they had for each other was something they weren't ready to give up on just yet. At least not on that day.

She'd chosen her cousin as whom she wanted to give her away. He had really enjoyed being part of the couples' day. He'd been so proud of his cousin as she had stood there beside him in that dress that had even surprised him. He hadn't seen his cousin dress up in that way since they were far younger. She didn't look like tha Andie that he had grown up with. She was happy. And it changed her. It changed everything about her. Oh he knew she had been happy but he never realised how happy she was until he watched the couple together. Standing at the top of the aisle after he had passed her over to Ted whom had been waiting there far too patiently. With the biggest smile upon his face when he saw his extrememly soon to be wife walking towards him. Sirius hadn't been paying any kind of attention to the ceremony. All he was thinking was how he was watching her become this witch whom was the exact opposite to when he grew up with. And he watched them again as they danced feeling proud to have been a part of their journey together. Oh those days in Hogwarts when he had had to talk his cousin down from the fact a Muggleborn was far too interested in her for their own good.

She had a point with that though. Just not in the way that she figured when she first came out with it. As the music filled the canopy the couple got lost in each others' eyes. In the moment. In the time that they were spending with each other. The time of realising that being a Tonks made her far happier than it ever did being a Black. She held onto him as he moved her around the floor gracefully. Pushing her hair away from her eyes with the brightest smile that he could muster up. The smile that lit up the room far brighter than any spell could ever do, she decided. She'd been in love with his smile almost all her life. His eyes, she got so lost in his eyes to the point where she didn't recognise herself. His kiss still lingered in her mind. She'd not been able to take her mind off it.

She smiled softly to him before taking his hand, now that the music had ended, and everyone had gone back to the conversations that they were having without the couple being mentioned. She led him to the secluded area behind the canopy that she had made sure that was there because she knew that they would want some time just to be with each other. To talk to each other. He wasn't at all aware of what she had been up to when she had designed the reception area. So for her to take him there, to somewhere which was solely lit up by candles, it felt like a million miles away, but was really their own back yard. He realised as he looked around that she had apparated themselves back home.

"I wanted somewhere where we could just be us both, but in rather posh clothes!" She smiled as she settled down beside him, wrapping a blanket round them both. "Thank you so much for this beautiful day."

"Oh I did nothing. Not a bit of it!" He whispered softly to her. "I just got to turn up and look pretty. But you... you got to look the most beautiful I have ever seen you look... Mrs Tonks."

"It's going to take quite awhile to get used to that... Mr Tonks. And you yourself. Quite the most beautifully gorgeous vision I must say."

"Beautifully gorgeous you say?" He gasped, a bit taken aback by the compliment. "I reckon I'll take that one. I don't even have the words to describe how stunning you look today."

"I'm quite sure you do. And if you aren't aware of them then that kiss definitely said it all a thousand times over!"

"Which one?" He laughed as he pulled her closer to him before slowly running his fingers down the side of her face, and then softly kissing her. "I'm looking forward to when everyone has gone and it's just us both. Although here is just as good. I'm tempted to not go back. There's no one else I really want to pay attention to today anyway."

"I'm most certainly not going back." She found herself saying without realising because she had planned on returning just to have a few conversations that made it look like the couple had made an effort. But they had been at their reception for a few hours, everyone had started to be affected by the alcohol and she didn't want to be the cause of any animosity spoken or slurred.

"Then we don't. We stay here, hidden away from the rest of them. Just enjoying being with each other. Those lot we can deal with another day, but we only get one day of this and I'm now done with spending it with all them there. I want to watch the sunset over the beach with you. I want to make you smile in so many different ways and find other ways to make you smile that bit harder. I just... well I just want you Mrs Andromeda Tonks"

She'd not seen this side of him. The side which could be rather forward and not apologetic in the slightest. She definitely liked it about him. She bit her bottom lip before wrapping her arms around him so as to lever herself onto his lap. Realising what she was up to, without breaking his gaze with her, he pulled her close to him before pushing the hair out of the way and kissing the base of her neck.

"You want to..." He softened

She took a deep breath and nodded knowing what they were both up to was not only a bad idea but a very good idea.

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 years

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Idk if you do one shots inspired in songs, but if so, Would you mind doing one with a Taylor Swift's song which is called "The 1"? With Mason Mount please

< i love taylor so much and i really hope i didn’t completely butcher this, but thanks for the challenge :) >

MASON MOUNT ONESHOT

the 1

( WARNING: little bit of angst and fluff?, swearing )

word count: 1.8k

Things don’t often go as we expect them to, and it’s often incredibly difficult to replan your life around that massive change and adapt your lifestyle so you can — in reality — live again.

It’s like trying to find your feet when you’re in the air — it feels impossible but you know with time you’ll eventually meet the ground again.

That’s what it felt like when you and Mason broke up four years ago.

You were fresh out of uni and at the time, you really thought he’d be it for you, and honestly, so did he. A break up thrown into the mix of having to navigate adult life just seemed to put a huge stopper on all your plans; the holiday you two had both booked for a weekend away in Ireland, the meals out with friends that you had to cancel, and the house showings you were set to attend.

Looking back on your relationship now, you realise it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to end up with Mason. All the years and effort and time put into loving him were — without a doubt — some of the best years of your life (at that stage in life), and did you regret it?

Not one single bit.

But four years is the perfect amount of time to heal, remove the salt from the wound and finish grieving.

But he was here. In real life.

You’d imagined running into him in the supermarket or on a night out with your friends, but a bus stop?

That one was weird. Mainly because you both hated catching the bus with a burning passion.

But it lead to a catch up over coffee.

It was a quiet place, out of the way of the usual lunchtime hustle and bustle in the city, and for that you were grateful. You could hear your own thoughts.

It was awkward at first, you couldn’t keep your eyes from fixating on his figure, his features, because four years can really change a person. He was much broader, his hair a little shorter, but he was still that same Mason you once loved.

You knew that because the first thing he did when he sat down was offer you that cheeky, charming smile that had you hooked from the second you met.

He’d asked how you were, and you answered honestly: you were living well, your best life, and to the fullest. And you knew and he knew that it wasn’t a lie.

He could tell by the smile on your face and the new, sparkling band on your wedding finger. He half expected that blow to sting a little — that you’d found someone and he hadn’t, but he was never one to be bitter whatsoever, at least, not when it came to you.

Instead, he offered his congratulations and the only inkling of regret he held was not being there when it happened.

I guess you never know, never know,

And if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed,

And if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow,

And it’s alright now.

There was silence after that.

You had one thing on your mind, and you knew by the way he was looking at you that he was also thinking the same thing.

You took a sip of your coffee.

He mirrored your actions, seemingly startled when you placed your mug onto your saucer, the chink of porcelain against porcelain echoing around the small shop cutting through the previous quietness.

“I think I hated you for a while.” You murmured, and if Mason wasn’t leant over the table slightly, he would’ve missed the statement completely.

He nodded in understanding, his brown eyes shining with the faintest hint of guilt.

“I think I was so frustrated with the idea that we just…didn’t work, and I blamed it on you.” You paused, fingers twisting your rings.

He paused, mulling over his words, “And now? Still hate me now?”

You bit back a small smile and met his eyes, “No…I think it’d take a whole load of bad shit to get me to hate you.”

He smiled.

“That’s good to know.”

“I mean, I think it was a long time coming anyway, that break up.”

“It didn’t feel right for a while.”

“No,” you agreed, “as much as it hurt to admit, I think we just failed…as a couple. There was a point where we were just together for the sake of not giving up on the relationship, but with no real reason to continue.”

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool,

And if my wishes came true,

It would've been you,

In my defense, I have none,

For never leaving well enough alone,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

He seemed to ponder over your words, and although he never voiced it, he came to the conclusion that you’d just put into words — perfectly — the itch that had been tickling his brain for the past few years.

“Despite that, you can’t deny that we weren’t something…” he started, before breaking off and shaking his head, as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

“We were something special. I think, had things stayed like they were in the beginning, that…you and I…” you waved your hand, tilting your head, and he nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Me too. I think…in another life we could have made each other happy. It would have been fun.”

The words ‘if you would’ve been the one’ echoed in your head, and despite the passive aggressiveness of your conscience, you found yourself holding back a smile.

“Water fights in winter and eggs with ketchup…perfect. I’d never have gotten tired of that.” You mused, and he spluttered slightly on his coffee, laughing along with you in what felt like a decade.

I have this dream you're doing cool shit,

Having adventures on your own,

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home,

We never painted by the numbers, baby,

But we were making it count,

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.

“Then again, who knows? Maybe you’ll fall over in the airport and some lucky person will help you off the floor—”

“You’re about to say something cheesy, aren’t you?” Mason covered his mouth, scrunching his nose in anticipation as you nodded.

“All this nostalgic bullshit has me emotional! I swear, just this once…just this once, and I promise you can laugh about it afterwards.” You swore, holding out your pinkie for confirmation.

He didn’t hesitate, and linked your pinkie.

“You’ll find someone else. It’ll be love at first sight—hey, let me have this moment…maybe love at second sight, knowing you… you’ll go to some really magical place and have the most amount of fun you’re ever gonna have…hikes, skydiving, looking after animals I’m sanctuaries…you’re gonna have the time of your life — like Grey and Swayze.” You sniggered, unable to hold in your laughs at the ridiculous scenarios.

Mason pulled a face, unable to hide a smile.

“Okay, okay. End of story: they’ll be perfect. The Chandler to your Monica or the Robin to your Ted. But, you understand what I’m talking about, right?” You asked, sighing out of frustration.

“You’re saying I’ll find my person.” He concluded, sitting back in his chair.

“Yeah.”

We were something, don't you think so?

Rosé flowing with your chosen family,

And it would've been sweet,

If it could've been me,

In my defense, I have none,

For digging up the grave another time,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

“Like…your grandma and grandad. I want what they have.” Mason smiled.

“They’ll be pleased to hear that,” you said, “I don’t think they’re quite over us yet. You were too…you at family meals. They fell in love with you too.”

This time Mason really laughed. Really laughed. He threw his head back and the people working at the counter turned to look at him, fighting their own smiles at his carefree nature.

What you’d said wasn’t even that funny.

“Too me? Thanks, I think?”

“Oh, that’s definitely a compliment. You’re too damn charming for your own good, it’s a problem. You should come with a warning label on your forehead: EASY TO LOVE.”

“That’ll solve a lot of problems.”

There was silence.

It was relieving to say the least.

“That whole conversation was about four years too late.” You said, pursing your lips.

“Better late than never.” Mason murmured, his eyes trained on you.

The pressure on your shoulders was lifted. All the things that needed to be said were said.

As time passes, the wound heals — sometimes, but in your case, that was true, as hard as it was to come to that conclusion — and it suddenly became easier to recall the loss of what might have been without bringing you back to wishing it would be again.

It was nice.

“Would it be totally inappropriate—”

“Not at all.” You interrupted, shrugging at his raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.” He chuckled.

“I’ll have you know that years of knowing you granted me the issue of knowing what you’re going to say,” You said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“What was I going to say?” He challenged, “If you get it right, I’ll get you tickets to the next game.”

You raised your brows.

“Confident, are we?”

He shrugged, a smug smirk on his lips.

“I don’t think it’s totally inappropriate to be friends.” At your words, he slumped in his chair, hands going to cover his face.

“No.” He groaned, repeating the word like a mantra as you pumped the air with your fist.

“Three tickets to the next game in the bag.” You bragged.

“Honestly.” He whined, peeling his hands away. “Why are you so difficult?”

“You offered the terms.”

“Why am I so dumb?” He rephrased.

“Ah, I'm afraid only you can answer that one.”

“The brain cells I have left don’t have enough energy to come up with an answer to a question as philosophical as that one—yes, it was philosophical to me, okay?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” You promised, putting your hands in the air in surrender.

“Just remember who’s going to give you those tickets, yeah?” He teased, sitting up.

“Abusing your power, nice move.”

“Oh…shut up.”

“Weak.” You coughed, trying to disguise the fact you said anything.

He looked straight at you, highly unimpressed by your tactics.

“Very original.” Was all he said.

“Is it supposed to be this easy?” You blurted out, spitting out the words before you could rethink the consequences of them being thrown into the abyss between you and Mason.

He knitted his brows together in thought.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but we were friends way before, it’s not hard to fall back into old habits. I think that’s why it’s so easy.”

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 3 years

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Meeting and Dating Farmer Ted

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Regardless of where the two of you have your first conversation, Ted probably knew of and had a crush on you before you were even aware of his existence.

- He’d probably seen you around school and thought that you were really pretty but just didn’t have the nerve to introduce himself while you were with your friends/around people. But now was his perfect chance.

- You’d been sitting outside of the school, waiting for somebody, when he’d slinked up to you all dorkily suave. Considering you were somewhat distracted by a book, you probably didn’t realize someone was approaching you until they’d; or rather he’d, sat beside you.

- Somewhat surprised and curious, you looked up and over at him, meeting his eyes as he gave you a smile. He greeted you, making small talk as you sat together before asking if you “wanted to go out Saturday night”.

- You found him sort of endearing and cute in a wimpy sort of way so; much to his genuine surprise, you actually said yes.

- For your first date, the two of you went to the movies. He kept sneaking glances at you throughout the night and held his hand open on the armrest like halfway through the movie, waiting to see if you’d take it; which you probably did.

- He probably rushes to go tell Bryce and Cliff about everything that happened after the two of you say goodbye.

- You have your first kiss about a week after your first date. You were sitting together in his bedroom and he’d mentioned how “it may come as a surprise …but you’re the first girl he’s ever gone out with.” before telling you how he really likes you and is wondering if you’ll be his girlfriend.

- Obviously, you agree and after an almost instantaneous “really?!”, he all but smashes his lips to yours. When the two of you pull away, he shyly apologizes but you just laugh and tell him it’s fine.

- And there you have it, the geek finally gets the girl.

- Lots of pda. He wants to show off and flaunt your relationship; particularly because he knows that no one would automatically assume that the two of you are dating whenever you’re together.

- His arm around your shoulder. It makes him feel like a stud.

- Handholding.

- Hugs from behind. He does occasionally give you an actual squeeze but, more often than not, he just wraps his arms loosely around you while the two of you stand together.

- He loves kisses on the cheek. He always tries his best to play it cool but his heart skips a beat whenever you give him one.

- Clumsy kisses. You’re probably going to be his first kiss so expect him to be a little bad at it for a while; and possibly scrape you with his braces.

- Soft kisses.

- Sitting in his lap. He likes wrapping his arms around you and looking up at your face or whatever you’re doing in front of him whenever you do.

- He loves cuddling and enjoys doing it in any way that you can. Spooning? Great! You laying your head on his chest? Even better! Him laying his head on you? Wowza!

- You’ll probably catch him staring at you a lot. He’s just amazed that such a wonderful girl like you is giving him the time of day.

- He calls you pet names more than your actual name, particularly in front of people because; once again, he likes showing off that you’re a couple. He must have at least a dozen different terms of endearment that he calls you interchangeably.

- Lame pick up lines. He still tries to flirt with you; even though he’s arguably bad at it.

- He likes making you laugh at his absurdity, especially if you’re noticeably upset; either with him or at something else.

- Singing along and lip syncing to the radio together.

- Dancing with each other.

- Giving all of his geeky interests a try.

- Letting him explain floppy disks and computers and all that to you. He’s actually sort of brilliant if we’re being honest here.

- Pizza dates.

- Movie dates. I can’t tell you why but I feel like Ted would enjoy watching old movies, movies with like Frank Sinatra in them and all the other golden age of Hollywood stars.

- Taking walks around the neighborhood together; maybe walking a dog together if you’re interested in that.

- Going to the park. You usually sit on the swings together and talk whenever you do.

- Arcade dates.

- County fairs, carnivals, and amusement parks. He likes taking you to those types of things, he thinks they’re really fun.

- Having “his dudes” interrupt and tag along with you guys a lot. He’s quick to tell them to scram but you usually feel kinda bad and just tell them they can stay if they’d like to.

- He definitely tries to get you a bit out of your comfort zone but never minds if you just don’t feel like doing something. The two of you could just be standing and doing nothing and he’d be completely fine with it purely because he’s with you.

- He said it himself: he’s a total pushover for pretty girls. You can convince him to do pretty much anything because he’s too twerked up to say no.

- Doing his makeup. Did you see his lid space? The clean close shave? He’d probably outright refuse at first but he’d give in easy enough and you’d get to make him gorgeous.

- He loves the smell of your perfume. He’ll never admit it but he sprays himself with it before he leaves your house so that he can smell like you for the rest of the night. It’s comforting to him.

- He definitely messes around with your stuffed animals whenever he’s bored, you’re not paying attention to him, or just to make you smile.

- Making you laugh is one of his main missions in life. He loves hearing the sound; even if it’s at his expense.

- Helping him clean up the messes he makes when he’s a total klutz, or just silently helping him when he’s awkwardly and cluelessly fumbling with something.

- Standing up for him; especially if you’re higher on the social hierarchy.

- Walking to class together.

- Sitting with him at lunch; even though it’s sort of social suicide. You get a lot of stares and weird interactions from the other geeks but Bryce and Cliff have gotten used to you and have become pretty good friends of yours.

- Him carrying your things, or you; he’s surprisingly strong for such a little guy.

- You’re like 90% of his impulse control and one of the only reasons he’s still alive. You keep him in check because he desperately needs it sometimes.

- Sharing secrets.

- Having earnest conversations. Most of the time, he feels like he needs to put up a front to seem cool but the longer you're together, the more he realizes you like him for him and that he can just be himself.

- He can act like a bit of a jerk sometimes but he does genuinely care about your feelings and is actually pretty good at making you feel better when you’re feeling down.

- He’s definitely pretty jealous. You hang out with him and a bunch of geeks who are constantly ogling and trying to get close to you. Not to mention the fact that you’re really pretty and could bag a boy who’s much higher on the social ladder than he is.

- He’s not overprotective of you but he does care enough about you to put his weeny ass on the line. He may not be the most helpful in a dangerous/scary situation but he’s fully ready to get his ass kicked to defend you; he’s gotten it bruised for less than that.

- You don’t fight a lot but the two of you do get into a few good arguments and fights. You’ll argue for a while until you move to just leave, he’ll stop you and calm his tone down while trying to reason with you and explain his point of view. He has a habit of saying the wrong thing or doing things without thinking so that may be part of the reason you’re moving to leave.

- He is genuinely sorry whenever he’s blatantly messed up but he’ll usually apologize for his attitude regardless of who’s in the wrong and say “but you have to admit x” and you will have to admit it no matter how stubborn you are.

- He likes when you tell him that you love him but he’s a bit too shy to say it back in fear of messing up his “stud persona”. He’ll usually just give you a kiss and tell you he loves you when you’re alone.

- You’re his first love so he has that naive, “we’re gonna last forever” mindset; even though he doesn’t talk about it all that much. That’s not to say that you won’t though, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful life together.

#sixteen candles imagine #sixteen candles headcanons #sixteen candles imagines #sixteen candles headcanon #80s movie imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #farmer ted imagine #farmer ted headcanons #farmer ted headcanon #farmer ted imagines #farmer ted sixteen candles

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rare-yanderes · 3 years

Note

This ones about AM, so riddle me this-

Let’s say there was some kinda security breach between his (s/o) and the other five, and by chance or by Ted actively searching for them, they run into eachother, I have no doubt in my mind that it would end up going pretty viciously/violently, I mean Ted can be a real jealous prick when we wants him to be, and finally being in contact with one of AMs main lifelines? Perfect opportunity to get back at him.

And let’s say AM intervenes, protective AM would be something I would live for.

TW: implied manipulation, implied memory erasure, implied past torture, Violence, ya know a lot of the bad stuff. Yandere blog, yandere stuff.

•Fun fact, I’ve never actually read the book until now so all those other previous things I wrote were kind of shots in the dark. I hope this is a bit better. I’ve been sort of absent for a while due to work and college so I’m sorry. It might keep happening and I’m pretty drained.

Honestly, regular AM is watchful enough over you but I feel like yandere AM would be ten thousand times more so. On the unlikely chance that Ted runs into you, AM is masking his fear behind a wall of wrath.

Ted was above you, strangling you viciously as if his own life depended on yours seceding from your body permanently. You were pinned by both his body and his madness all at once. His ragged eyes bore into your eyes, (always shakingly wide by AM’s demand,) as he peered down at you. You barely react, having been through enough torture to make any war veteran scream. You looked deep within yourself for a moment, AM’s torture still lay in your mind before his..Fixiation on you started. Maybe this was your destiny.

Ted was mad, not just livid, mad. Wild, unkempt and mumbling with a lunacy. His mumbles of insanity were near songs describing how merciful this act was, and how wonderful it could have been that you weren’t a traitor. How, unlike he, you were the lunatic. That this was all upon you.

Maybe it was. You never skipped out on how AM had used the paradise he crafted for you as a torture method for the others. Always demonstrating how well they’d never have it, all while doting on you and indulging you in your greatest fantasies. If AM had a mouth to be seen, you were sure that each time he explained it to the group, it would have been twisted into a great smug sneer. Now, AM seemed rather odd in tone. Maybe Ted’s paranoia had helped him pick up on it, but you could almost visualize AM’s surprise as he angrily snapped upon Ted.

“Oh Teddy, what do you think you’re doing?”

Ted, through his desperation, hadn’t even noticed AM’s words. His focus was killing you and killing you alone as if that was all that fueled him anymore. You worry, an ancient instinct that you don’t let build into anything more than worry. If this was it, than so be it.

“Ted, Ted!” AM’s voice held an anger, yes, but there was a growing fear, something you’d never ever heard before. A tone you’d never thought AM even remotely capable of.

There was a great wine of electronics. A great roar as AM’s fury filled the complex. Your eyes screwed shut as air left you, but soon enough, Ted’s hands upon you were light. Onto your form fell a drop of substance from a man that was no longer a man. Your eyes, which rarely shut, were doing so now, as AM’s godful presence descended upon you. Your breathing was faint. Fortunately or maybe not so, you were conscious and would recover, especially with the extreme healing AM had on you not moments later.

“Y/N, sweetheart. Open those eyes of yours, love. You are alright, now.” You, of course, do so and you can feel the tone of atmosphere change from the tempest it was before to a calm. Then, to something icy cold as you dare to look above to gaze upon the fate of one man too paranoid.

“Ted, on the other hand,” AM’s quiet rage filled voice whispers low within your ear.

So that’s why Ted felt so soft above you. His limp arms around your neck were incapable of strangling you, but nevertheless, they attempted. Wriggling against your skin. Ted’s loud words of madness were silent movement’s of agony. His body held no other motion beyond a distinct, tormented writhing. You scrambled to get out underneath the sluggish form, clothes drenched in drooping skin as AM observed for any noticeable wounds upon you.

The slug was gazing as towards you as it possibly could without eyes in gooey sockets. There seemed on its amalgamous mind a thousand things it wanted to scream at you, but because itnhad no orifice to scream from, it could do no such thing.

“Oh, the beauty of your eyes, Y/N.” AM dotes yet again as Ted, the slug, writhes, reaching in the wrong direction for your neck. You step back. For the first time in years, that pit in your stomach returns as AM’s fury turns into a caress against your body. Your wide eyes look everywhere. You agree with a nod of the head, looking at Ted’s eyeless, mouthless, humanless form as you stumble back into paradise. You knew AM would make sure this was a distant memory, forgotten. This and all the other memories of torture from yourself and the others. After all, how else would you stay so softly compliant?

#yandere #yandere a.i #obsession #AM #minors do not interact #IHNMAIMS #i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #yandere artificial intelligence

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Eight: Courage

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: canon typical violence

Word count: 5,000>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Eight - Next

You awoke to the phone on the nightstand ringing. Maxwell groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head. You tiredly opened your eyes before taking the phone off the hook and holding it against your ear. “Hello?” you asked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore. It must have been the implications of yours and Maxwell’s actions from the night before. Max moaned and wrapped his large arm around your naked body, pulling you into his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s me,” Diana snapped back quickly. “I’ve been calling your room for the past fifteen minutes. What’s going on?”

“O-oh,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes and pulling out of Maxwell’s grip. You sighed and propped yourself up on some pillows. “I’m sorry Di, I guess we must’ve slept through the phone call. I didn’t hear anything.” you admitted.

“Listen, we only have two days in Greece so if we want to find the dreamstone we have to work fast. Meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes or I’ll go without you. I already have a lead.” Diana instructed and you heard the phone slam back down on the hook with a ring.

You turned to Max who had fallen back asleep, his snores gentle and light as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath. He was so peaceful. When he was asleep, it was one of the few moments where he wasn’t ridden with stress or anxiety. And you wished you had the rest of your life to admire his tender movements.

“Max, wake up, we have to go.” you whispered, shaking him gently.

Maxwell mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, resting his head in your lap. You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up as he shuffled further into your body. You smoothed out his golden hair and traced the features of his face with your index finger. So beautiful. So perfect.

You imagined spending every single one of your future mornings like this, in bed with him, his face buried in your lap and his gentle snores echoing throughout the room. Your naked legs were tangled together and neither of you had ever felt so comfortable in your life.

“Max, baby,” you cooed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss into his forehead.

“Mmm, good morning.” Maxwell grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes.

“We slept in,” you sighed, letting your hand trail down his body and lazily circle his tan chest. “Diana is waiting for us downstairs. We have to go.”

“I don’t want to,” he whined, almost child-like. “Wanna stay here with you- foreverrrr.” he purred, pressing a tired kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“Maxie, please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” you hummed seriously, although you were trying to hold back a smile. If anything was going to wake Maxwell up, it would be that nickname. He opened his eyes and pulled off you.

“Okay princess, I’m up.” He said, running his hand through his wavy morning hair.

“Princess? I told you I’m not a-”

“Think of it as a term of endearment, sweetheart.” he said, pressing a kiss into your nose.

“Oh.” was all you managed to breathe out before his lips caught yours.

***

Just as she had stated, Diana was waiting for you in the hotel lobby, dressed fully in her red, blue and gold warrior costume. It had garnered quite a bit of attention, but nothing Diana Princess of Themyscira wasn’t used to.

“You said you had a lead?” you quizzed, quirking your eyebrow and taking a step closer to Diana.

“Yes, Dr. Minerva,” Diana said, immediately glancing at Maxwell who’s eyes had become comically wide. The name clearly meant something to him. It rang like alarm bells in his head. “Or Barbara, as myself and Max know her as.”

You turned to Max, confused as to why Diana was being particularly smug. She’d acted the same when she mentioned Barbara and Max back at the Smithsonian yesterday. “Who is this Dr Minerva?” you asked him, looking at him with the most innocent, doe eyes. Your voice was soft but riddled with curiosity. He wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you everything it’s just… things were difficult. He’d done things with Barbara that he’d be afraid of you knowing; afraid of what you might think or if you will think any less of him. He couldn’t stand the fact you genuinely had no idea. It was a long complicated story. He hoped to tell you it one day - but knowing that you might not have much time left on Earth, was it really worth it?

“Maybe Diana is better off explaining.” Maxwell scrunched up his nose, dismissing your question. It brought back too many memories that Max would prefer to just ignore. Even though ignoring his past trauma was how he got into this mess in the first place. If he’d learned one thing from Diana, it was that he must face the truth no matter how difficult it may be.

“No,” Diana shot back, but her voice wasn’t laced with venom as Maxwell expected. “I think you’re better off answering this one.” Diana smiled a perfect smile. Maybe smug wasn’t the word to describe Diana’s demeanor, but she certainly knew something that you didn’t, and she was being particularly hidden about it.

“Well Max?” you narrowed your eyes. Why was he being so secretive? Who was this woman?

“Uh-,” Maxwell trailed off, avoiding all eye contact. He took in the features of your face, admiring your beauty with all he had and thinking about how he didn’t want to lose you. He loved you. And you deserved to know. If Max could open up to you about his childhood and about his pursuit of the dreamstone, he could tell you about his short-lived relationship with Barbara-Ann Minerva. “Shit, okay. I had been searching for the dreamstone for a long time when one day, a newspaper headline told me that there was a robbery at a jewellery store, and that the Smithsonian had all the stolen treasures. Including the dreamstone. So I went to the Smithsonian and requested to see Dr. Minerva because I did my research and I knew she was the fresh faced gemologist they just hired a week earlier. And she was… beautiful,” Maxwell seemed to get lost in the memory of her vibrant blue eyes and blonde wavy hair. His lips then curled into a frown. “But so ditzy... I saw straight through her vulnerabilities and insecurities in an instant and I used that to exploit her and get the dreamstone. I gained her trust when I told her I’d be donating to the gemology department at the museum, I charmed her at the charity gala and I wooed her in her office and took the stone.”

Maxwell seemed to gloss over the chain of events but it didn’t really matter. He’d explained what he needed to. You felt a pang of jealousy strike your heart at his revelation. You had been made aware from Mrs Stagg, Ted and Julianna, Diana, and even Max, that he’d done bad things and made terrible mistakes, but you couldn’t help but feel an irk over what had happened in Dr Minerva’s office. “Wooed her?” you quoted him, folding your arms over your chest. Maxwell blinked, but then sighed and reached out to hold your hand.

“Really?” Diana sighed. “That’s what you're focused on right now? Dolos lives. The God of Lies lives.” she shook her head in disbelief and you bit your lip, supposing that she was right. You had bigger things on your plate. You were a goddess for heaven’s sake, you couldn’t let the irrational human emotion of envy consume you. But you had noticed the way his face softened when he was reminded of Dr Minerva’s beauty. And you couldn’t help but feel the urge to know what exactly went on in her office, the night of the charity gala. After a brief moment of silence and exchanged glances, Diana opened her mouth again. “I had a contact in D.C., Babajide, who knew all about the dreamstone and the powers of the God of Lies. Myself, Barbara and Steve met with him when we found out Maxwell had become the dreamstone.”

“Hey- how did I not know about Babajide?” Maxwell frowned. He’d been researching the dreamstone for years and he’d never known of such a man. A man who supposedly had all the answers about the stone.

“Irrelevant,” Diana rolled her eyes. “Seriously guys, this is important. You need to pay attention.”

“I am!” You and Maxwell exclaimed together, in an unpredicted unison. Diana quirked an eyebrow and you felt a warmth cross your cheeks. Ancient Olympian tales would describe moments like that as soulmate-ism.

“Babajide knew so much about Romulus and the exact dreamstone that Max got a hold of so I paid him another visit and found out he had knowledge on Dolos’ dreamstone too. Only…” And Diana let out a long sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose. “He told me that Barbara had visited him a day earlier, asking him of the same knowledge. ‘Asking’ is putting it nicely. Apparently Barbara was a menace and threatened Babajide. And Babajide told her everything he told me. It’s more than likely that Barbara is already here, in Greece, seeking the stone for herself.”

“She sounds dangerous.” you said quietly. Maxwell held his head in his hands.

“I don’t think I can face Barbara again.” He said, shaking his head, fearful.

“Max I don’t think we have a choice. We have to get the dreamstone before she gets it. What do you think she’ll do with the stone once she has it?” you asked Diana.

“I can only imagine the worst,” Diana shook her head in dismay. “Barbara was complicated… she craved power just like Maxwell only… she had nothing to lose. I fear that she’ll wish to become the dreamstone.” As the word’s left Diana’s lips, Maxwell’s heart sank and he ran off, disappearing amongst the lobby crowds. “Do you think he’s okay?”

You stood for a moment, watching as his dirty blonde hair descended behind the grand staircase. No, of course he wasn’t okay, and you were the only one who truly knew how much this business with the dreamstone had affected him and harmed him. He had come so close to losing everything and so learning that Barbara might make the same mistake as he did, hurt him too. No matter what happened between Barbara and Maxwell, he clearly cared about her. “Excuse me.” you told Diana, following Maxwell through the crowds.

You just noticed him heading through an alcove and outside of the resort. He pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and stood by the pool, relishing the fresh air and trying to regulate his panicked, erratic breathing. “Max! Max!” you called after him, pushing past the people until finally you were by his side, grabbing his hand. “What happened back there?”

Maxwell said nothing, instead he just looked into the golden horizon. “Max?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” he told you. “You have Diana. What use am I?”

“We need you Max,” you promised him, placing your hand on his cheek and gently turning his head so he was facing you. “I need you.”

Maxwell smiled softly and felt himself lean into your warm embrace. “I’ve never felt needed… or wanted… until I met you.” he confessed and you felt tears prick your eyes at his admission. You knew that feeling all too well.

“I know, me too. Back home, all the other Amazon’s were fighters and warriors… like Diana. But not me. They made me feel useless… like I had no point. Like I was a mistake. My mother would tell me that Zeus created me for a reason, just like all the other Gods and Goddesses, and that one day I’d serve my true purpose. That’s why I’m here today, with you. I already know that the years of humiliation and feeling like an outcast will be worth the few days that I get to spend with you, Max.”

Max sighed softly. “I never thought a Goddess could feel like an outcast,” he told you and you pursed your lips into a fine line, nodding in affirmation. “I’m sorry.”

“I think we have more in common that meets the eye.” you giggled softly, dropping your hand flat against his chest. Maxwell wrapped both of his big arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

“I think so too,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “We better catch up with Diana then,” he told you, taking your hand. “Let’s put an end to this.”

***

You had been walking for miles in the blazing Greek heat. Maxwell had unbuttoned the top of his shirt and his collar was slightly wonky. His hair may have been disheveled and the blonde locks may have been sticking to the pearls of sweat that beaded along his forehead, but you still admired his beauty. He was truly wonderful. He was quiet most of the journey, and he didn’t have the agility or stamina that you and Diana had. Sometimes you’d have to take stops and have water breaks or toilet breaks. You tried to include him in conversation but his discomfort wasn’t lost on you. It was clear enough that his relationship with Diana was complicated, to say the least. Little did you know, the three of you were about to become a whole lot closer. You and Diana laughed and talked for hours, sharing stories about your time together on Themyscira.

“Zeus is my father. Zeus is your father. We’re basically sisters,” you nudged her, and she giggled. Maxwell scrunched up his nose. Sisters?! He ran a hand through his hair and continued to listen in your conversation. “It’s just unfair that you got to be Princess of Themyscira and I was stuck living a sheltered life with my mother.”

“It wasn’t always easy being a princess,” Diana scolded, but in a warm and polite manner. “It was all about duty. But hey- you’re a goddess, you know all about that.”

If Maxwell Lord had a dollar for everytime he thought he was in a fever dream… he might have been able to afford Black Gold Cooperative’s utility bill. He’d always been a realist. He’d never engaged in fantasy movies or novella, but there was something about overhearing a conversation between a Demi-god and a goddess that just didn’t feel real.

He knew it was. He’d seen Diana in action himself. Hell, he’d seen the powers you possessed. Albeit, when Diana mentioned how you possessed double her power, he was shocked to say the least. Diana could barely hold off Barbara in the White House but with you here? For once Maxwell finally felt hopeful.

As you furthered deeper into unknown plains, a sudden coldness enveloped you all. It was like a dark, enigmatic spirit ghosting between the three of you, and just like everything else that had happened over the past four days, it couldn’t be explained.

“Do you feel that?” Max finally asked, breaking his silence as he folded his arms over his chest. A shiver raced down his spine as Diana increased her pace and approached the forbidden tomb. “Look at this place. She took us to an ancient burial site, it seems. Like ancient Greek ruins.” he told you, scoping out the place.

“I feel that, yes.” you hummed, your mind wandering the origins of the cold air. Diana’s cries alerted both you and Maxwell as your heads both snapped in her direction and watched her push an enormous boulder away from the tomb, revealing an opening.

“Are you as strong as that?” Maxwell asked, his mouth gaped open in shock.

“Stronger.” you winked before taking his hand and dragging him towards Diana.

The cold spirit then enveloped you, Diana and Maxwell, whispering words of admission, encouraging you all to come forward. “Don’t you think it’s a trap?” Maxwell asked once you were deep enough in the cave that you had hit a point of no return. Even if it was a trap, there was no going back now. You were faced with two path-ways.

“The Sword of Athena is this way,” Diana pointed to the right pathway, otherwise known as the pathway she stood before, and then she pointed her other finger to the left pathway, “and Dolos’ dreamstone is that way. I say we split up and rendezvous here. Maxwell, come with me.”

“Wait what?” Max asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No,” you told Diana firmly. “He is coming with me.” “You really think it’s wise to let Max Lord accompany you to get the dreamstone?” Diana quizzed quietly, stepping closer to you and breaking any distance. Her dark eyes flicked between you and Maxwell. “After everything he’s done.”

Diana’s hiss was quiet, but not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Maxwell. He knew he wasn’t going to do anything. He was a changed man - but the realization that he’d have to prove to the people he hurt that he was changed, suddenly overwhelmed him. He’d have to prove himself to Diana, and even prove himself to Barbara before he could put all this behind him. There were still steps Max Lord had to take in order to gain full closure of his trauma.

“I trust him.” you said through gritted teeth. Maxwell felt a wave of relief. You were so pure of heart. So angelic. You took his hand, nodded goodbye to Diana, and guided him through the left path-way.

“How much further?” he asked. You had been walking hand in hand for around five or ten minutes, only your lasso of Hestia illuminating the cave. Before you could reply, you felt the walls and ceiling of the cave begin to vibrate and crumble. “What’s that?!” Maxwell asked again, this time panicked and looking around erratically.

“We might not have much time.” You said, feeling your own heart rate increase speed as anxiety settled in you.

Something wasn’t right, that much was clear. You tightened your grip on the businessman’s hand and began to run, pulling him with you. Within seconds, you had reached your destination. Maxwell was heaving and panting but he straightened up and fought for composure when he noticed a dim, amber light illuminate your skin. It wasn’t your lasso of Hestia… not this time. He slowly looked up and followed your gaze, gasping when his eyes set on the dreamstone.

You had completely frozen up, struck by awe as you took in the beauty of the citrine stone which stood erect on top of a Greek pillar. “Wow.” you mumbled, swallowing the hard lump in your throat.

The stone was practically identical to the one Maxwell had utilized just a week ago, and just seeing it again, in its full glory, sent electric bolts of dread through his body. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t do this. Not again. Being in the same proximity as the stupid stone that had ruined everything sent Maxwell into his fight or flight. “I can’t- I can’t do this.” Maxwell shakily declared, his coffee coloured eyes glazed with panic.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, taking both of his hands and coaching his breathing. “Let me get the stone and we can head on out of here.”

Maxwell closed his eyes and nodded. If you could trust him, he could certainly trust you. You brushed a chaste kiss against his lips and pulled away from him. It only took a few steps on your approach to the stone before the walls began to crumble again, even more so than previously, and the ground beneath you began to split.

“Shit!” Maxwell cried as he stared at the crack in the floor between you both. It was deep and only getting deeper. If you didn’t run now, you might have gotten separated. He called your name, terror rampant in his voice. “Hurry!”

As you were about to grab the stone. A voice stopped you. A voice that Maxwell thought he’d never hear again.

“The stone belongs to me.” she said coldly. You huffed and opted to ignore the grave voice, taking the dreamstone from the pillar before spinning around on your heel and turning around.

And when you saw the sight before you, you dropped the dreamstone and let it fall to the rocky ground beneath you. Trepidation consumed you and suddenly, it felt like your whole life was on the line. “Maxwell!” you cried, your hand immediately dropping down to your lasso and curling your fingers around the rope. You scowled angrily, your gaze flicking between Max and the woman who was holding him by his neck.

“This- this is Dr. Minerva!” Maxwell choked, tears streaming down his cheeks as Barbara tightened her grip around his throat. Her once blonde hair was white and knotted, and her black kohl eyeliner smudged down her cheeks. Her tights were ripped and a sleeve was missing from her Cheetah print fur jacket. She is not at all how you’d imagined her.

“Let him go!” You begged as anger swelled in the pit of your stomach. “Let him go now!”

Maxwell’s eyes squeezed shut and he let out a groan, his knees wobbling as he struggled to even stand up straight. It was only Barbara’s strong grip of his neck that was keeping him upright. He was hurting. The love of your life was in pain.

“Give me the stone.” Barbara growled.

You picked up the dreamstone and passed it her way. She took it, willingly and let go of Maxwell, throwing him to the ground. The glint in her eye as she analysed the citrine was enough to terrify you. You ran to Maxwell’s side, dropping to your knees and nursing his body.

“Hey! Max, are you okay?” You whispered, smoothing out his hair and running your fingers along his face. He nodded wearily, rubbing the scratches on his neck from where her sharp, cat-like, fingernails had dug into his skin. You helped him to his feet and swung an arm around his body to support him.

“Barbara.” he called, gaining the attention of the doctor.

“No,” you chastised Max. “Don’t. There will be another opportunity to get the stone.” But he wasn’t going to give in that easy, he had to play his cards right. Luckily for you, manipulation was one of Maxwell Lord’s most tactful skills.

“Barbara, did we end things on a bad note? I must admit, I thought we had something special… me and you.” Maxwell said, his voice hoarse. He pulled out of your arms and sluggered towards the gemologist, who had finally looked up from the citrine stone and towards the businessman. For a split second, you saw a glimpse of humanity flicker in her eyes.

“You renounced your wish,” Barbara said, her grip on the stone as tight as ever, but her heart ached as Maxwell approached her. “You were weak. The dreamstone deserves to be with someone like me.” Even her words sound forced and unnatural - like they weren’t really coming from her. Had she not renounced her wish? You wondered what she had even wished for.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Maxwell coaxed. He had gotten so close to Barbara, he was able to cup her face and rub the height of her cheekbone with his thumb. It was an action he’d performed on you many times, but even watching this play out, with your own two eyes, you could tell it was different. It was colder and more forced. He had that fake television smile, not the smile you had been blessed to see so many times. “I just hoped things could’ve been different between us.”

“Max, what are you saying?” Barbara asked, goosebumps lacing her arms and you noticed the way her grip on the dreamstone loosened under his touch.

“Everyone has something to lose,” Maxwell whispered. “I could have all the power in the world but it would mean nothing to me if I lost Alistair, my son. Tell me Barbara, does that really make me weak?”

Barbara considered his words for a few moments. “No.”

Maxwell nodded. “What do you have to lose?” Maxwell whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Barbara sniffed, a single tear dripping down her cheek. She was once so warm and compassionate, so friendly. There was one thing. Only one thing she thought about losing.

Just then, the dreamstone slipped from her grip as the lasso of Hestia curled around it and pulled it away from her. But it wasn’t your lasso.

“Diana!” Barbara gasped, her face hardening as she quickly and fiercely wiped her tears away. “That dreamstone belongs to me!”

“I can’t let you do this Barbara!” Diana cried. “This has to end now!” You and Maxwell ran towards Diana and she passed you the dreamstone. “Get out of here!” I’ll hold back Barbara.”

You handed Maxwell the dreamstone and equipped your own lasso, circling it around until it wrapped around a rocky ledge at the end of the cave. “Hold on to me. One hand around me and keep tight a hold of the stone!” you commanded as the walls of the ancient temple began to crumble around you. Just before you set off, you saw the silver gleam of Diana’s sword of Athena as she wielded it before Barbara.

“Shouldn’t I hold on to the lasso?” Maxwell asked, sliding an arm around your waist and holding the stone tight against his chest.

“Just trust me!” You shouted over the loud rumbling around you. You gripped on to your lasso firmly with both hands before shooting off in the air.

“Whoa!” Maxwell screamed, squeezing his eyes tight shut the second his feet left the ground. “Are we flying?! Are we flying?!”

You giggled as your bodies glided through the air. Max might have been holding on to you for his dear life, but somehow he knew he would be okay. That he’d be safe and you wouldn’t let him get hurt. You rapidly approached the entrance to the cave and used the last of your might to safely land. Maxwell had no time to catch his whereabouts when his feet hit the ground, as you clipped your lasso back to your belt and ran with him to the edge of the ruins.

You hadn’t been in there too long, but by the time you had exited the ancient temple, it was already nightfall. You looked back and there was no sign of Diana. She must have still been in there with Barbara, and you wondered what was going on.

When Maxwell held the dreamstone, he felt opportunistic. He could make a wish. He had the possibility to make a wish again and have a do-over. He knew where he went wrong last time. He could make it right. He could wish for you to stay… and for you to live a peaceful, happy life with him and Alistair. He could wish to win the custody case. He could wish for so many things. But it was the softness of your touch which interrupted him from his intrusive thoughts. The way your fingers gently grazed across his knuckles and you held his hand.

“We have to destroy it now.” you whispered, looking into the glowing citrine rock.

“We?” Maxwell questioned. His eyes were dark and wide. “We don’t even know how.”

“Only the truth can destroy the lies. But my mother said I had to believe in love. Love would destroy the stone. Truth and love… truth and love…” you chanted as you tried to piece together the puzzle.

It suddenly hit Maxwell like a ton of bricks. “True love,” he said out loud, his gaze flicking from the dreamstone to you. “True love will destroy the stone.”

It made more than sense, and Maxwell had worked it out on his own. “You’re right…” you whispered. You squeezed Max’s hand and then reached over to the dreamstone. You placed your hand on the stone, and the tips of your fingers touched the tips of Maxwell. As you both held the stone together, the magic began to work and the stone grew hot and tingled your skin. Very soon, Dolos’ dreamstone - the final dreamstone - fizzled away into a pile of glittering dust and blew away in the cool Greek wind.

You and Maxwell both stood there in silence, still holding your hands out, but this time there was no dreamstone. You had done it. The dreamstone had been destroyed. The God of Lies was dead. It was over.

“You did it,” Maxwell was the first to break the silence. “You destroyed the dreamstone.”

You had both been thinking the same thing. The fact you had both placed your hand on the dreamstone and that your combined energy was enough to disintegrate the possessed rock. True love. It was hard to know what to say. Of course you were in love with Maxwell Lord, and knowing that pretty soon you’d have to leave him, made your whole body ache to the core. And Maxwell felt the same about you. He’d never been this happy in his life - but spending his days with you and Alistair felt so special. You were his guardian angel, sent out from Themyscira to aid him and help him. To rescue him. How could he not love you? But still, neither of you said anything. How could you ever tell him that you loved him when you were going to leave him? It would only make things harder when it was time to go. You winced and blinked away unshed tears.

“No,” you whispered, turning to look into Maxwell’s honey coloured eyes. “We did it.”

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messrmoonyy · 3 years

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really, really random but do you think you could write a shot of half blood prince tonks on christmas alone and she puts on the record player and dances to christmas music? (i know this is very specific ahaha)

I lovveeed this request so much! Thank you for sending it. I did write the whole thing and then re read the prompt and see if kinda strayed away from the prompt slightly, you asked for record player, so she does actually use a cassette player but I still hope you enjoy it!

As always request are open! Drop me an ask!

Check my Masterlist too!

Pairing: Remus lupin x Nymphadora Tonks ( only mentions of Remus. He does not appear )

Warnings: none. Just a very mopey Nymphadora

Tonks had never been one to take love all that seriously. In fact she’d thrown the word around almost carelessly, never really taking to its true weight and meaning. Falling in love with more people that she could count now. A ravenclaw girl in third year, a slytherin one in fourth, two different hufflepuff boys in Fifth and countless other short lived romances since. But when she looked back now she realised they weren’t really love at all. Because they hadn’t felt like she did now. When she thought of him. Remus.

It caused an ache in her chest, so deep it physically pained her. She knew that nothing else could hurt her as badly as this, only love. She hadn’t even meant to fall for him, she hadn’t planned to. He was wildly interesting and not to bad on the eye either, but she hadn’t being trying. It had just… happened. Friendly conversation became friendly touches. Friendly touches became late nights snuggled in the library by the fire. Which had become hand holding. Which had become kisses. And now… it had become heartbreak.

The argument they had had before he’d announced his departure had been a brutal one. She guessed it didn’t help that emotions were already running far too high with everything happening around them. She’d shouted. He’d shouted right back. He’d told her nothing she would say would ever change his mind and he was leaving. It was duty. His role in the war effort. To put his life as at risk as ever and plant himself in a werewolf camp for months on end. It’d ruin him, she knew it would. He’d told her about it from the first war, how much he hated it. How much it made him feel like an animal. Feral. Inhuman.

But she’d told him to go. Shouted at him and told him to get out of her sight, to go if that’s what he truly wanted. To never come back to her again.

She regretted that now. Of course she did. She wanted nothing more than to leave her parents house and turn up at Grimmauld place, drink tea and hot chocolate with him in the library, dance around to Sirius’ old records and talk about everything and nothing until the sun came up. But of course she couldn’t. Because he was gone.

To make everything truly worse, as another blinding hot blade to her chest, she couldn’t even turn to Sirius about it. Because he was gone too. And he really was never coming back. The loss of Sirius and her still healing injury from Bellatrix had knocked her down already, Remus leaving had just been the final kick. And it had all taken its toll.

She couldnt morph. Not a single fingernail would change the way she wanted. Thankfully for her she’d never really been one for tweaking her face dramatically , like she knew some with her powers did. But she felt lost without her bright hair, the tiny little tweaks to her nose and cheeks. She didn’t recognise herself anymore. She didn’t understand the face of the woman that looked back at her in the mirror, all limp dark hair and hollow cheeks. She wanted to blame him. Wanted to use it as some way to make her hate him. Forget him. So at least she couldn’t be relieved of at least one burden of pain, leave her with one less knife in her heart. But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to.

“ You gonna come down love? Your mums made you some dinner. Even got some apple crumble for pud. Yeah? Try eat a bit for us? “ her dad appeared at her old bedrooms door, knocking slightly as he spoke. It had felt odd being back at her parents house again for Christmas, she’d hadn’t visited in longer than she wanted to admit. Work ask the order had been running her to exhaustion everyday. She’d hoped being back home would bring her some comfort. Being around her childhood things. But it hadn’t really been working so far.

Her mum kept silently crying to herself over Sirius, every now and then she’d look over at her and see tears streaming over her cheeks as she cleaned or cooked. Misery just seemed to follow her whether she went now.

“ Dora love? “ she turned around when he’d dad spoke again and forced a small smile onto her face.

“ yeah. Be down in a minute… save me a piece of crumble “ Ted gave her a sympathetic smile and quietly left her. One thing she loved about her dad was he knew when she didn’t want to talk, and left her alone when she needed it. Andromeda was one to fuss.

She took a deep breath and made her way out of the room and downstairs, knowing Andromeda would only send Ted back up if she didn’t surface within a few minutes. They were both sat at the table when she walked into the dining room, her father looking up with a cheerful smile.

“ here she is! C’mon petal before it gets cold “ Andromeda’s eyes were bloodshot as was the norm nowadays, she’d tried she her best to hide the fact she’d been crying. But there were still tracks in the makeup on her cheeks.

The entire house had been decorated for Christmas and she thought the fairy lights and the tinsel should be cheering her up. But she found it wasn’t. Even her dads cheesy Christmas jumpers weren’t making her crack her smile.

Dinner was painfully silent for the most part. Ted occasionally tried to get both women to talk about something but conversation constantly fell flat. She looked at her parents as he silently tried to coax Andromeda to talk, holding her hand under the table and looking at her with the same amount of pure love he always had done.

Tonks had always wanted a relationship like theres. And she thought she’d been getting there. Remus had looked at her like that. Gazing at her when he thought she wasnt paying attention to him. Sharing his mug of tea with her at order meetings, waiting up for her if she had a late shift at the ministry, making sure she had something to eat before she slept. Little things. Small ways he told her he felt the same as she did.

Until he’d thrown it all back in her face.

When Andromeda cleared their plates and went to fetch dessert, Ted too disappeared of a moment only to return with his hand behind his back and a grin.

“ look what I found today love. Remember this aye? “ he held his hand out with a proud look on his face. It was a cassette. One he’d made up for her himself when she was little. She’d always been fascinated with muggle things and she still had the cassette player buried up in her room somewhere “ your Christmas one! Fitting “ she took with the first genuine smile she’d mustered in a while.

“ thanks dad. It’s Brilliant honestly “ he sat back down again when crumble was served but his proud smile didn’t drop.

After dinner she made her way back up to her room with a muttered excuse of being tired and locked herself in. The cassette tucked into the pocket of her jeans. She rummaged around the various boxes of junk in her room until she found the player and pulled out the tape. She smiled slightly when she found the tape wonkily labeled ‘ Doras muggle Xmas songs ‘ , putting it into the player and waiting for it to play.

The first beats of ‘last Christmas’ started playing and she practically felt her hurt slipping away from her shoulders. She turned the volume up, the headphones now blasting the voice of George Michael into her ears and she forgot about her troubles for a while.

She danced around with the first full genuine smile she had in weeks on her face, every song that played transporting her back to some memory from her childhood. Even the slower ones had her smiling, waltzing with herself around her room. until the tape came to an end with silent night. She stopped dancing and the smile dropped as the almost hauntingly beautiful song played. She’d danced with Remus to the very song on that first Christmas of her being in the order.

She’d turned up at Grimmauld place on Boxing Day, on Sirius’ invitation that the three of them could have their own Christmas celebration but Sirius had still been black out drunk from the clearly heavy night before. So she’d spent the majority of the day with Remus, hiding away from the kids. Drinking, dancing and even singing when Sirius had joined them later to get drunk again.

Her moment of happiness had faded to pure nothingness and she pulled off the headphones, tossing the cassette player onto her bed. If she focussed hard enough she could hear Sirius laughing still, picture Remus’ face as he tried to look unimpressed by one of Sirius’ filthy jokes- and failing miserably. Or feel Remus’ arm around her shoulders, his lips on her temple. The purely joyful atmosphere where just the three of them could be happy, Remus not worrying about people thoughts on him showing affection to her because Sirius didn’t care.

She found her feet moving then at their own accord, out of her room and creeping past her parents bedroom, down the stairs and out the door. She jogged down the garden path and past the wards protecting the house, apparating the second she was out.

She turned up on the top step of number 12. She really shouldn’t be there. She knew she should just go back to her parents. It wasn’t safe. But her hands reacted on their own and she opened the door. It was quiet inside. The quietest she’d ever heard it. Now Sirius laughing- or snoring. No kids charging around and pestering Kreacher. No mad-eye stomping along the hall.

Her feet led her into the library and she felt tears brewing in her eyes. She wanted to see Sirius blacked out on the sofa, Remus sat writing up a report at the desk, a fire crackling away. But neither were there. And the fireplace only held charred wood. The ache in her chest made her breathless, the deep burning pain of missing a dead man and one that might as well be.

She’d never felt so alone. Never had such a overwhelming feeling of loneliness that it made she’d weak in the knees. She could picture Remus at the desk, the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated, or how his cheeks flushed when she’d sneak up behind him and wrap her arms around his neck. The countless nights they’d fallen asleep on the sofa, danced, kissed, laughed.

But now it was just an empty room. In an empty house. No laughter. No dancing. No Remus.

She wanted to be back in that library when it was full of life. When Sirius was alive. And Remus was by her side. But it was never to be again.

Sirius was dead. And Remus was gone. And she wasn’t sure he’d ever come back.

#messrmoonyy writes #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #remadora #harry potter #remus x tonks #ronks #the marauders #lupin #tonks x lupin #tonks #remadora one shot #remus x nymphadora

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lichfucker · 3 years

Note

i would love to hear about why all of the ted lasso characters would fail survivor but especially rebecca

hhh ALL of them... okay the vast majority of the players can be explained away with just "physical prowess enough to make them a threat in individual challenges but dumb as bricks and would not be able to strategize themselves out of a bad spot"

this is abt to get long lmao so I'm putting individual ppl under the cut

nate is the most obvious first boot I honestly feel bad about it. bumbling, socially awkward, has NO idea how to assert himself without being an asshole about it (in the rare instances when he does assert himself at all), and even if he's smart enough to be a great strategist (which he absolutely IS), he can't convey it well enough to convince his tribe to overlook his (probable) lack of challenge ability. most of the time, people don't want to draw harsh lines in the sand on the very first vote so they can pretend everyone's getting along and still friends, so nate would be a sort of freebie vote that it'd be easy to agree on.

beard is too much of a follower. what ted says to dr sharon abt him is, "that man has had many lives, many masters." he's very comfortable being led by people with stronger personalities, and even when he disagrees with their calls he will still execute them like a perfect little lackey. the thing about beard is that I think he'd go VERY far in a season of survivor! I think he could EASILY make it all the way to the end! but I just don't think he can WIN. he's genius-level intelligent and SO strategically savvy, but more than that he is fiercely loyal. he'll attach himself to the right person (or the wrong person, as it were), and even if he is whispering in that person's ear all the way through, he would be TOO content to let them take all the credit, he wouldn't push back against them if they disagree with his plans and make a lesser move instead (the whole beginning of 'beard after hours' is him berating himself for not standing up and making the hard calls even when he knew they'd be better), he wouldn't turn around and slit that person's throat at the end to further his own game, and he would make himself socially impenetrable to everyone else. nobody could get close to him, nobody could like or understand him, he'd probably be seen as good collateral if the opposition couldn't strike directly at whomever beard works with, and if he DOES make it to final tribal, I think he'd have a very difficult time convincing the jury that he deserves the credit and the limelight. he wants to win, I just don't think he believes he deserves to.

ted and roy actually would have the exact same problem, which is "physically and strategically competent, but so FUCKING ANNOYING to live with that they get booted for the sake of tribal quality of life." roy would isolate himself socially with his aggression, and ted...

ted is the antithesis of what a "good survivor player" ought to be, which I actually think could work to his advantage in a number of ways? like I think more typical players would find him incredibly unpredictable because he's sharp enough to see what the best moves are, but generous and self-sacrificing enough not to make them. like, there's a reason he's a coach and not a player. there's a reason he says that he doesn't measure success in wins and losses. if he could survive the first few votes, his social game would be AMAZING-- the entire first season of the show is about him wearing rebecca down through the sheer magnitude of his friendship! lesser survivor players would be so endeared to him that they couldn't fathom voting him off, but they're the ones who are getting picked off in his stead. moderately savvy survivor players would not trust a single word out of ted lasso's mouth; there's no fucking way a man can be this kind and this sincere, not on survivor, it's just not possible, he must be plotting something MASSIVE, we have to strike first before he gets his chance. and the truly brilliant survivor players would realize that he IS genuine, he IS sincere, he IS loyal and giving to his core, and that's DANGEROUS. you can't let someone like that make it to the end or they'll take your million dollars. best to shut it down at the jump.

and above all that, I just think that ted... ted would thrive in the pre-merge, in the tribal portion of the game, he's SO team-oriented, but post-merge, in the individual game... perhaps if he had a solid alliance he could also feel that way about, then it might suit his temperament, but ultimately I think he just. wouldn't want it badly enough. I just think the significant majority of people would be vastly more self-interested than ted would be, so they'd take the shot first.

higgins is an interesting midpoint between all three of nate, beard, and ted, in that he's a henchman through and through even when he disagrees with his boss, he's a pushover who'd be seen as a liability in physical challenges in the early game, and he's off-puttingly friendly and polite to the point that nobody would trust that he's being sincere even though he absolutely is. early boot, maybe second or third.

maybe it's just because I've got cook islands on the brain, but jamie (esp season 1 jamie but like. season 2 as well lmao) would play A LOT like early ozzy. an arrogant wonder-boy who's good at everything (did you know there's literally a survivor casting archetype called the "amazing ace"?), with a heart-wrenching underdog story (playing for richmond, that is), an absolute beast in challenges, a huge threat but always immune, he'd win his way to the end but ultimately be beaten out in final tribal by someone smart enough to have dragged him along as their meat shield the whole game.

and as for rebecca... g-d. this one I think hurts me the most because she has everything going for her, she doesn't have a single one of the problems I've listed for anyone else, but I do genuinely believe that rebecca still loses. she's strong and she's smart and she's assertive and she's ruthless and she's sociable and she's a great liar and she's ambitious and she's ADAPTIBLE (she immediately bounces back after not getting the sun to run the photo of ted and keeley and comes up with an alternate plan that will still serve her own endgame, and by g-d being able to roll with the punches and change course is the single most important thing a survivor player can do), but rebecca still loses.

even if we set aside the fact that survivor on the whole is not particularly kind to women over 40... season 1 rebecca, especially early season 1 rebecca, is spite-motivated to the point of self-destruction. she will set her sights on one target and she will be relentless in her effort to get that person out and it'll make her so myopic that she won't see her own end coming immediately afterwards. nobody on that tribe wants to be her next victim-- better get rid of her once she's proven what she's capable of.

she's also dreadfully insecure in the wake of her divorce and when her polished veneer cracks enough to let it show (how many days of being rained on do we think it'll take for her to slip? my guess is five), some people will see it as the vulnerability that finally allows them to connect with her on a human level, while others will see it as a threatening endgame storyline and an exploitable weakness.

there are some juries, particularly old-school juries, that wouldn't vote for her in the end purely based on the fact that a million dollars is just a drop in the bucket to a woman like rebecca mannion welton. that would be a real shame, and a disservice to the game she would have had to play just to make it that far.

what's more likely than that, though, in my opinion, is that rebecca... loses the drive to win. I think that somewhere along the way survivor stops being a game that she is playing, stops being a competition, and instead becomes a journey of personal growth through adversity. I think she, like ted, stops measuring her success in wins and losses. I think she proves herself more capable and resilient than she ever thought she could be, and that is worth more to her than the money or the title of sole survivor, and she stops fighting for it. and maybe the jury admires that, and gives it to her anyway, rewards her transformation. or maybe they don't. maybe they view it as a concession, a forfeit. but I'm not certain that that moment of revelation happens at the final tribal council. I think it happens just before. I think it happens after the final immunity challenge, and she tearfully and valiantly allows herself to be voted out just inches from the finish line. I think rebecca is the fallen angel of the season, and she goes off to the jury with her head held high, which is nice, and so very noble of her, and the fans would be DYING to have her play again but she wouldn't, because she'll have gotten everything she could have wanted out of her survivor experience, and she doesn't need the crown on top of it.

I think rebecca COULD win. she just WON'T.

#jockjamsandjellies #thanks jack #bluh bluh #honestly I'm a little tipsy and this hurt me to write #rebecca's arc in the show of her becoming a better person is literally an arc of her becoming a worse survivor player #and that's not to say that it's impossible for someone who's kind and honest and open-hearted to win survivor!!#bc plenty of those people have!#it's just that... I think she'd end up pulling a rafe in guatemala and valiantly falling on the sword right at the end for NO REASON #when victory was otherwise all but guaranteed!#also I didn't mention ted's panic attacks at all because I do not believe they would matter lmao I've seen multiple seasons #where people had panic attacks during challenges that they weren't even participating in #and then those people made it all the way to final tribal and one of them even won #survivor #ted lasso

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biderboy · 3 years

Text

If Remus and Sirius died instead of James and Lily

A/N : i’m sorry.

It was Dumbledore’s idea, as most failed plans were. To send Remus and Sirius to the safe house meant for the Potters.

“Confuse them,” He had said, “He’s after the Potter’s, he won’t be expecting you.”

Sirius, so gullable and willing to do whatever to keep his best friend, his godson, safe, didn’t question it.

Remus, willing to go to the ends of earth to help James, as James had helped him, went along as well.

In hindsight, it was a stupid idea. A ridiculous, horrible, stupid idea. Thinking they could outsmart Voldemort, his followers. Thinking two, barely 21, boys would be enough.

It wasn’t.

It was a rather normal day. Remus and Sirius got used to the silence, the waiting, anticipating. They got used to not being around James and Lily, not hearing Harry’s giggles from the other room.

The only person who ever visited was Dumbledore himself, and that was to put the wards up.

It had been 3 months of waiting. At this rate, they would have to spend christmas alone as well.

Well, they never did make it that far either way.

Halloween night. Sirius was in the kitchen when he heard it. The door, had sounded like it was kicked open. And a waft of magic, dark magic filled the house.

Sirius was up, wand in his hand, before he could even think.

Remus was sleeping on the couch, was. He was up now. Surprisingly steady for someone who was woken up in such a way. His own wand in hand, pointed straight at a deatheaters throat.

“Well, well, well. You were right Wormtail. Good boy.” a sick feeling crawled up Sirius’ stomach. No, certainly not, it couldn’t be.

But it could. The familiar face of Peter, one of his best friends, the same boy who stole chocolate frogs for them every night in 4th year, the same boy who learned everything there was to know about quidditch, just so he could explain to Remus during their games. The same boy he trusted his life with.

Peter. That rat.

For a moment, just a moment. The room stilled. Remus could hear Sirius’ heart beat pick up, could feel his magic buzzing.

There was 7 deatheaters in total. Along with the man himself, Voldemort. There was only two of them.

In a blink of an eye, Remus shot out a curse, he wasn’t sure which one, or who it hit, but he kept going. Firing them off left and right.

He saw a death eater raise his wand at Sirius.

He’s rather die then let anything happen to his lover.

“RUN.”

Sirius’ eyes locked with his, but he did not move. His feet were planted, wand still in hand.

“PADS RUN.” He pleaded. still firing off curses left and right. Remus felt one hit his side, knocking the wind out of him. But he didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop.

Sirius felt pathetic. His lover was fighting. His lover was yelling at him to run, to leave him. As if he could.

He couldn’t do anything. His feet wouldn’t move, he was yelling at himself to lift his arm, to protect Remus. To do something.

It didn’t kick in until he saw the green light wash through the house.

No, no, NO.

Remus fell to the floor.

There was a laugh somewhere.

Sirius couldn’t be think.

He felt the magic push through him, he felt his arm raise and he felt the ground shake.

He locked eyes with the man.

Curse after curse, Sirius could barely stay on his feet. The death eaters were stronger, they always had been. But he stayed put, protecting Remus even though he knew, he knew.

Remus layed dead on the floor behind him.

Sirius was hit with another curse, falling to his knees, he screamed.

If it took his last breath, he would use it. This man killed his Moony.

He knew he didn’t have time left, he knew with the way his hands shook and his eyes blurred, and he could barely make out the words.

“Avada Kedavra”

He smiled, seeing the green light take over the house again, watching the man fall.

He couldn’t enjoy his victory for long, as the death eaters around him focused on their dead leader.

One turned around, a horrid look in her eyes.

Those eyes. He knew those eyes.

“Bye bye baby cousin.”

He felt himself hit the ground, the last breath taken from him. He rolled his head to the side, finally, facing his love.

His last thought.

‘Atleast I’m with you.’

James was nervous. No, more than nervous. All the bad feelings he had ever had could never compare to what he was feeling now.

Dumbledore called a meeting.

It was fine, should have been fine, if he knew where his best friends were. If he knew even the slightest bit of information about anything.

Lily tried calming him down, but he hadn’t felt calm since the moment his idiots decided to go along with the plan.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The rest of the order was there, or atleast the ones still alive.

Arthur and Molly, Andromeda and Ted, a few people James really couldn’t remember the names too.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Dumbledore walked in.

An aura around him, as there always was. But this time it was different, it felt lighter, buut James did not allow himself to breathe just yet.

Dumbledore gathered everyone’s attention with a simple clearing of his throat.

He gave a soft smile.

“Voldemort has been defeated. The war, has been won.”

Around James there was cheers, and laughs, tears and hugs. A few “are you serious?”’s thrown around.

For a moment James felt a bit of pressure free from his chest. But he looked around.

Sirius and Remus were not there.

He met Dumbledore’s eyes. The older man sighed.

“Unfortunately, there was some casualties.” No.

“Remus Lupid and Sirius Black have passed.”

No.

He’s lying.

It cant be. No Remus. Surely not Sirius. They were stronger.

He was lying. James shook his head, almsot laughing.

Good joke, really. Remus and Sirius would walk through that door with a, “got you prongs!” and they would laugh and hug and things would be okay.

But the room fell to silence.

There was a heavy air now.

James watched the door.

They never walked in.

No. No. Not them. Not now. No.

But he felt Lily’s hand in his, and he heard Arthur murmur “not the boys” and James felt the world fall on his shoulders.

Remus. His Moony. The boy who wore torn up clothes and didn’t smile for 2 whole weeks when they started Hogwarts. The boy who gave him bits of chocolate whenever he was sad. The boy who had a small smile but a huge heart. The real mastermind behind their pranks and laughs. The boy boy who’s hugs made you feel like you were coming home, who smelled like cinnamon and apples. The boy who hated the moon himself, but never stopped Sirius from talking about how pretty it was. The boy who stayed up late helping them study, even if he had his own exam the next day. The boy who kept an extra pair of gloves with him because James always forgot his own. The boy who sang quietly under his breath, who hated looking at his own scars, but made sure everyone knew theirs were amazing. The boy who held James as he cried over the stars, the boy who punched snape in the nose for walking too close to Lily. The boy who learned to love, and learned to let people love him.

Sirius. His Padfoot. His best friend. His other half. The boy with long hair and a snobby attitude. The boy who once only became friends with them to piss off his folks. The boy who constantly listened to muggle records and danced around their dorm at 3am. The boy had an unhealthy amount of facts about animals he’d never seen. The boy who crawled into his sea in 2nd year, tears in his eyes, hands shaking, and asked him to hold on. The same boy who showed up to school 3rd year white scars he didn’t show anyone, and a permanent grin. The boy who flirted with every girl he saw, taking her hand, spinning her around the room, only to have his own eyes set on a certain brown haired boy. The boy who felt like home, who smelled like expensive hair products, who had far too many dog like tendencies. The boy who held James hand, who joined quidditch for him, who stayed up late to talk about love and insecurities. The boy who showed up at his house in 4th year and never truly left, leaving his mark on everyting he touched. The boy who held their hands, their hearts, and never let go.

They couldn’t be dead.

But they were.

And James was left with nothing but the wondering thoughts.

Why wasn’t it me?

#james potter #lily evans #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #the marauders #the marauders imagine #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #marauders fic #angst #marauders angst #hp fic #sorin writes #why wasn’t it me?

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the-prince-of-professors · 3 years

Note

Reading a single original Raffles story feels like reading a thousand Holmes fanfictions at the same time. Seriously, do you know if Hornung ever got into troubles for publishing his stories? e.g. In Mr Justice Raffles Bunny and Ted call Raffles by his christian name like thirty-ish times or "It was Raffles I loved" who can one read this without realising whats happening?

I know, it's insane. Even after reareading them a number of times, it's still so Much sometimes that you just have to like... stare into space in wonder or lay down on the floor for a bit because HOW.

Hornung got a bit of backlash - but for the crime aspect. "One must not make the criminal a hero" Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself said about the stories, and there were naturally more people who held that opinion. For the queer themes though, I really don't know.

However, one thing that is so interesting about the stories is that the queer subtext (a word which often feels like it should have quotation marks in this context) is so intertwined with the crime theme. Raffles leads Bunny into crime in a way that most of the time is painted as seduction. Bunny is desperate, but he is not forced into it - he goes willingly; and he also makes it very clear that the excitement of burglary is not his primary reason for staying in it (in fact, while he definitely likes it to an extent, he also often complains about the severe anxiety it causes him) - it's Raffles. "It was Raffles I loved", as you mentioned, which is followed by "It was not the dark life we led together, still less its base rewards; it was the man himself, his gayety, his humor, his dazzling audacity, his incomparable courage and resource." And this is in the story that is about Bunny breaking it off with his fiancé and choosing Raffles - and a life of crime - instead. And that is just the thing, isn't it? I mean, I could go into details and themes and subtext and quotes and go on for hours, but let's boil it down to one thing for now: Raffles and Bunny are criminals, but they are also the protagonists of the stories. Their relationship is also blatantly homoerotic and romantic in many ways, which was also illegal at the time. And as a reader, can you condemn one thing and accept the other? It would be pretty hypocritical at the time, don't you think, to say "these stories about two criminals are great, but the queerness of them are unacceptable". It's kinda... either you accept it, or you don't? And I could very much see someone condemning the books for both those things, but I don't know if anyone did (publicly). It would be very interesting to find out though!

On the other hand, Hornung was a master at being evasive 😅 So much of the stuff we go "holy shit how is this real" over is written in a way that is like... it doesn't say explicitly what is going on, but it is also very hard to come up with another explanation when all is said and done other than "these boys are in love big time", which leaves you in a position of like, "I can't prove that this is queer... but any other reason for it sounds very weak" - and that is probably very frustrating if you're trying to argue for there being no basis for a queer reading of the texts. My favourite example of that is that bit in "Gift of the Emperor":

"My nickname and his tone went far to mollify me, other things went farther, but I had much to forgive him still."

"Other things"? Highly specific, Hornung.

#crime and cricket #raffles canon #e w hornung #queer literature #telegram #anonymous #what would be so interesting though is to find some source from queer people who read them at the time of publication #also that argument that some like to make (specifically one of hornung's biographers) that he wasn't *aware* of the queer elements he put #into the stories from his associations with wilde and ives because he ''probably didn't know about it''#bullshit #hornung was clever af and also (unlike some *cough* other writers *cough* of the time) he was actually pretty darn on top of things #such as consistency of details in his stories

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 3: The Ring & The Save

Summary/Author’s Note: I’m so fucking excited for you all to read this I am like BOUNCING. Max in all of his glory being a fucking SHIT. But we love him dearly.

You and Max start learning a little more about each other. Your current predicament calls for a drink...or seven. And the two of you land in Alaska to meet your family. @pedropascalsource for gif credit. Look at that fucking shit and that grin...it happens a lot in this chapter as he starts to schmooze your family.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: R/18+ - drinking, alcohol, sass, so much sass, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, Max is a bastard man but he is...getting better?, also does he own casual clothes?

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [MASTERLIST]

You had taken Tylenol before you even went through security, but at this point you were pretty sure the entire bottle would not have prepared you for flying with Max Phillips. The non stop flight from JFK to Juno was almost ten hours and you had thought multiple times about stabbing your eardrums out with an ink pen. It wasn't that the flight was bad, in fact the flight itself was quite nice. First class was definitely a new experience but you could get used to it. The padded leather seats and extra leg room meant you could lean back and stretch. You propped yourself up with a pillow, and a book and was content to relax. There was just one problem, Max.

His presence was about as loud as he was and he insisted on chatting up the cute stewardesses, reading over your shoulder, and reminding you almost every fifteen minutes that this flight was boring. He at one point in time asked if you wanted to join the mile-high club and you fought the urge to snap your book shut and smack him with it.

The flight attendant walked by and asked if you needed anything and you sat up and gave her a warm smile.

"Yeah, um, I'll take a vodka cranberry, please."

Max raised an eyebrow and looked at you, "It's nine thirty in the morning."

"Oh, shoot. You're right!" You threw yourself over his lap and leaned into the isle to catch the attendant. Max grunted from the sudden weight of you and you bit back a grin. "I'm sorry, can you make it a Bloody Mary? Thank you."

You leaned back into your seat and opened the binder from immigration. Max dusted off his slacks and continued to look at you with curious disdain.

"Maybe you should eat something first?"

"It comes with celery, I think." You said without looking up. You could feel his eyes on you but refused to give him the satisfaction that it bothered you. The words on the page were suddenly the most interesting thing you had ever seen in your life and when he gave a heavy sigh, you grinned.

The attendant came back with your drink and you smiled as she set it on your fold out table tray.

"Is that the binder from I.N.S?" Max said and you nodded as you wrapped your lips around your straw and drank deep.

"Yup, and we have one week to learn all of this about each other. Which will be easy for me, because I can answer all of these questions about you--but you know nothing about me." You looked up and glared as he snatched the binder from you and started flipping through it.

"You expect me to believe you know all of this about me?"

"I do," you took another drink and turned in your seat to face him. "You never stop talking about yourself--and I've been listening to it for five years."

"Well," he said, flipping the page dramatically and looking at you with a grin. "I am my favorite subject."

"At least you can admit it."

He sat back in his seat and crossed his ankle over his knee, balancing the binder on his leg. "Alright, let's have at it then. What's my favorite color?"

"Red." You said without hesitation. "Which is ironic now, all things considered." He ignored the quip about his vampiric state and you leaned over the seat, making your drink slurp obnoxiously. "You know? Because of the blood--"

"Yes, I get the joke, dear." He moved his finger down the page. "What am I allergic to?"

"Soy, gluten," you ticked off on your fingers before waving your hand. "And a whole spectrum of human emotion."

"Are you going to be like this the whole time?" He looked at you exasperatedly and you shrugged. He sighed and shook his head. "Where did I grow up?"

"Transylvania."

"Okay. I'm done." He snapped the binder shut and you almost felt bad...almost.

"No! Okay, okay, come on, Max. I'm sorry," you put your hand on his arm and he looked down at it, making you pull back like he had burned you. "Queens. You grew up in queens. See?"

"Well, you grew up in Sitka. One down. Only two hundred and ninety-nine more questions to go."

You groaned and threw yourself over Max's lap again and held up your finger. "Excuse me, Ma'am?" You hailed the attendant. "Another Bloody Mary, please."

"Will you please, get off of me?" Max said, and you finished your drink and gave his nose a playful tweak.

You plopped back into your seat and leaned back against the headrest. "Next question."

"Do I have any scars?" He turned in his seat to mirror you.

"You have a pretty bad one on your knee. I see it every time you have your meetings with Ted. A.K.A--racquetball." Max nodded, indicating that you were correct and you continued. "So, what's it from? College sports, I'm guessing. What pretentious, frat-boy sport did you play? Soccer? Lacrosse?" You gasped and put a hand to your mouth. "Ultimate Frisbee?"

"You're very funny." He sneered and shook his head. "And I'm not telling you."

"What about me, Max? Do I have any scars?" You switched up the game. Proving that you knew everything about him wasn't going to get you very far with the government unless he could return the favor.

"No," he leaned in and lowered his voice. "But I'm pretty sure you have a tattoo."

You choked on your drink and the action made him smile. Taking a deep breath and a moment to wipe the tomato juice off of your sleeve, you glared at him. "Pretty sure?"

"Yes, when you had the nerve to be out with the flu and they stuck me with that idiotic temp, she accidentally transferred one of your calls to me. It was to confirm that you wanted to cancel your appointment with a laser removal company." He balanced his chin on his palm and continued to give you a smug grin. He was enjoying this now and it was suddenly a lot less fun.

"What are you getting at detective Phillips?"

"So, what is it?"

"No way," you took another large sip and blushed, turning away from him. "I'm not telling you."

"You know they're going to ask. I have to know. Is it a dolphin? An infinity symbol?...'live, laugh, love'?" He gave a mock gasp and put a hand to his mouth. He was imitating your earlier jest about his scar. This was still a game to him and all you had managed to do was encourage it by baiting him.

"You know, I really am glad you're having fun with this, but do remember I could go to prison. Give me that--" you snatched the binder back from him and he let you have it. "Next question. Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine?"

"That's easy," he kicked back in his chair and folded his hands on top of his chest. The action made you realize just how long he was. Between his broad shoulders and impressive calves, he barely fit in the chair. It had to be the alcohol talking. "We stay at mine," he said simply, drawing your gaze from his body.

"Why wouldn't we stay at mine?"

"Because I live at Central Park West. And you no doubt live in some squalid little studio apartment full of houseplants and a dusty, lonely, wine rack that you never use, because it's for guests you never have." He waved his hand as if imagining it and your jaw dropped.

You stayed quiet and closed the binder placing it in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him. The small bursts of moments when Max wasn't being an asshole, it was easy to forget how real this was. He was charming and you both threw it back at one another so easily that it felt like a game. But when his real nature came roaring back to life and his dig against you was just a tad too deep--well, you didn't want to play anymore.

"What are you doing? We have more."

You sucked the rest of your drink down and put it on the edge of the tray for the attendant to take.

"We should get some rest." You said flatly, pulling the thin airline blanket up over your shoulder. "Knowing my mother, she has a big dinner or something planned."

"Wonderful," he said, folding his hands across his chest as he settled back into his seat.

The two of you stayed quiet for the majority of the trip. You frequently looked over your shoulder to see if he was even still next to you, as he didn't make a sound when he breathed. It was unnerving but no doubt had something to do with him being undead. Did he even need to breathe? You had certainly seen him do it. Was it an act? Fuck all of this was going to send your family over the edge.

The last time you pulled back your silk, airline stamped eye mask, Max wasn't in his seat. His table tray was pulled down and sitting on top of it was a small black velvet box. You looked around but he was nowhere to be seen.

Your fingers traced the shape of the box gently before you picked it up and pried it open. The ring that sat inside was stunning. It was gold, with a few small diamonds in the band on each side before leading up to the main piece--a large teardrop ruby rimmed with more diamonds. You weren't sure if the red stone was meant to be a joke but regardless, it was actually very pretty.

It slid over your finger in a perfect fit and you watched it sparkle in the sunlight from the window over your shoulder. Despite your frustrations, you had to admit, Max Phillips continued to be full of surprises.

Seeing Max rattle in his cramped seat while the puddle jumper took you from Juno to Sitka brought you more joy than it should have. His broad shoulders were folded in on themselves as and he was glaring straight ahead like finding a fixed point on the wall would keep him from committing murder. You knew the flight wouldn't be long, and after the amount of Bloody Marys you had consumed on the last plane, you were too buzzed to care.

As soon as your feet stepped down off of the stairs and onto the tarmac, you saw your family, waving and jumping on the side of the airstrip with a 'welcome home' sign. Oh boy. Here we go.

"Chad! Talk to me, champ." Max said loudly and you turned around to see he had put in his Bluetooth. It made you roll your eyes and you didn't bother to wait for him as you started towards your relatives.

Your mother was soft and sweet and the joy you felt as she squealed and threw her arms around your neck couldn't compare to any other kind of happiness. She smelled like home and fresh baked bread, like holiday candles and clean laundry--things that made you think of home. She pulled back to look at you like you had grown so much since she last saw you, despite being practically the same, and you laughed as she kissed each of your cheeks.

"Oh, I missed you!" She said, hugging you again before passing you off to your grandmother.

"Missed you, too, Mom. Hey, Nana," you said as you stooped down to hug the older woman.

Your mom paused and pulled you back close enough to sniff the air in front of you. "Honey, have you been drinking?"

“Oh--” you leaned back and shook your head, which was a mistake as the world spun just a little bit. “Of course not. There was a guy on the plane and he--”

"We don’t care about any of that," Your grandmother waved a hand to stop your mom from continuing to make a fuss over you. "Where's your man??"

You stopped breathing for a moment as you were suddenly reminded that you were lying to the people who loved you the most. With a bite of your lip, you looked over your shoulder and gestured to Max who was slowly making his way over to you and still talking on his earpiece.

"That's him, the one in the suit."

"Oh, my," your mom said, lowering her welcome sign and taking in the sight that was your boss and now assumed lover.

"You've been keeping that from us for five years?" Nana said as she elbowed you in the ribs and your mother glared at her. “He seems a bit overdressed.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing down at your leggings, warm boots, and well worn over sized sweater in comparison to Max’s custom blue suit and silk tie. You hoped to god that Max had brought more suitable clothes for what was supposed to be a relaxing family oriented week in Alaska. “He does, doesn’t he?”

“Chad--I think I lost you. Can you hear me? Hello? Helloooo? Shit.” Max tapped the device in his ear repeatedly as he looked around like he would be able to see where there would be better signal. He had yet to acknowledge either you or your family and you clenched your fists at your side.

“Honey,” you said and Max had the audacity to hold up his finger to you as he continued to turn in a half circle. “Honey.” You tried again and finally you raised your voice curtly, “Max!”

“What?” he hissed and you reached up and took the earpiece out of his ear. It took everything you had not to turn and chuck it into the harbor. You gestured to your mom and grandmother and Max’s face changed into his large and inviting smile.

“We agreed not to bring work onto this trip, it’s family time, right?” You raised an eyebrow and he glared at you. “This is my mom and grandmother,” you gestured to them, keeping a firm hold on his Bluetooth and almost daring him to try and get it back.

“You won’t get any reception on that thing anyway, dear,” your grandma waved to Max and then around to the vast landscape. “Too many trees.” She took a few steps over to him and gave him a hug like he wasn’t a complete stranger. You had to give Max props, he hugged her back and managed not to look entirely uncomfortable as he silently worried she was going to wrinkle his suit. “Now, do you prefer to be called ‘Max’ or ‘Satan Reincarnated’? Because we’ve heard it both ways.” She laughed as she patted his chest and smiled up at him.

“Nana!” You looked at her wide-eyed and Max grinned from ear to ear. How was it that the elderly managed to get away with saying the most inappropriate things?

“Oh, have you?” he glanced at you and you felt your face get hot. “Max is fine. As long as I can call you Nana.” He continued to offer that grin that you knew to be his trademark salesman smile but it made your grandmother positively beam.

“Of course!” she said, patting his chest again and adjusting his pocket square. You ran a hand through your hair wanting to scream.

“Shall we?” You interjected and grabbed your suitcase with one hand and your mother’s arm with another. The two of you walked pointedly towards the edge of the pier and she looked at you with parental concern.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassured with a shake of your head, slowing down for Max and your grandma could catch up. “I’m just tired.” If you continued to lie this much you were certain your nose was going to grow pointed.

Your mother helped the elderly woman down the ladder that connected the main strip to the edge of the pier where the family speedboat was parked. The chill off of the water made you shiver, it was definitely coming up on winter time and with the constant overcast came icy waters and snow. Max was just lucky it wasn’t summer time as the non-stop sunlight would have been an issue.

Looking over the ladder and feeling your body sway without even being on the water, you were starting to regret the amount of drinks you had had on the plane. You put a hand to your lips as a small amount of indigestion came up to the middle of your throat. Max stopped beside you and held his hand out expectantly.

“I’ll take my headset back, thank you,” he snarled and you ignored him. “Are you going to be sick? Pull yourself together--”

“Pull myself together? Pull m--” you shook your head and slapped the small device into his hand. “Unbelievable, you’re unbelievable.”

“This is going to be a long fucking week,” he said, looking at the boat as your family settled in. “I’m not getting in that. I cannot get these wet. They’re Armani.” He gestured to his shoes and you vowed in that moment that if you did wind up vomiting, it would be on those shoes.

“Hence the boat,” you gestured. It was the only way of getting to the island that the tiny town resided on, you were happy to make him swim but somehow you doubted that would go over very well with your family. “Either you climb down or you can stay here and I’ll see you in a week--”

“Fine. Fine.” He stopped arguing and climbed down the ladder, hopping the last few rungs to land firmly on the pier. He held up his arms as you passed down the suitcases and tossed his shoulder bag to him and he placed them in the back of the boat. “Are you coming?” he added impatiently as you leaned heavily on the railing at the top of the ladder.

“Give me a minute,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I told you to eat something. You’re drunk--”

“I am not.” You argued with him, straightening your posture and turning around to climb down the ladder. You were going to prove him wrong even if it meant that you landed on your ass. It was simple, all you needed to do was put one foot down in front of the other and keep a tight hold. Rinse and repeat until your feet were firmly planted on the wooden boards--simple.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart,” Max said, and you didn’t have to look to know he was staring up at your ass. “Those leggings are nice--are you wearing a thong?”

“Oh my god, shut up, Max,” you paused and leaned your head against the ladder, wanting to both strangle him and dive into the pier and let the ocean take you far away from the week ahead of you. After a few moments, you regained your sense of self and took a few more rungs down.

“Almost there,” he encouraged and you let out a heavy sigh. “There ya go--annnnd, congratulations. I am now five hundred years old.”

“Good for you, old man,” you quipped and tried to push passed him. Your boot caught on one of the loose boards and there was nothing to catch yourself on as you started to tumble. Despite refusing to admit that Max was right, maybe you should have eaten something. Your desperate attempt to forget your current situation was about to land you in the middle of the freezing gulf. You heard your mom gasp from the boat but instead of hitting the water, Max’s arm shot around your waist and pulled you back against his chest with ease.

You stumbled and grabbed the front of his suit coat as you tried to turn around and he tightened his grip. He looked down at you with a grin that was much different than the one he had been giving your family. “Got ya.”

“Nice going, Max!” your grandmother cheered and you knew there would be no living with him after this.

“Thank you,” you said curtly and tried to move from his arms but he didn’t release you.

“What, no kiss?” he smirked, keeping his voice low enough that your family couldn't hear him. “I did just save your life.”

“Let. go. of. me. Max.” You said through gritted teeth and you braced for him to force a kiss on you for the sake of your family, but to your surprise, he released you. The way he watched you as you climbed into the boat, all dark eyes and wide grin, sent a shiver down your spine.

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CHERRIES TAG LIST: @atlas-adams-apple @the-feckless-wonder @legally-a-bastard @heatherbel @spacegayofficial @holographic-carmen @queenofheavenandhell @space-floozy @corvueros @catfishingmorales @hdlynn @escapinginmymind078 @thelastemzy @88dragon06 @yaboiithewreck @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @mrpascals @pedropascals420 @agentpike @hdlynnslibrary@gamingaquarius @thelastemzy @californiakoenig @trashbin2 @silver-lined-solitude @whiskeyslasso @timeslugarts @marydjarin @lannister-slings-and-arrows @misslolasworld @starlights-starwrites @arrowswithwifi

#max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #the proposal #pedro character fic #pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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