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strawbeerossi · 11 months

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This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Ex-wife!Reader

Description: Spencer shows up at his ex wife’s door late in the night, riddled with guilt from years of their separation and needing to confide to her why he left her the first place.

Content Warning: Prison arc discussed but no spoilers, mention of PTSD, mentions of drug addiction/relapse, mention of violence, heart wrenching angst, crying, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, lovemaking, aftercare, happy ending.

Word count: 4.5K

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The last thing that she expected was to hear a firm knock against her apartment door. It was ten in the evening, who would need anything from her this late? Maybe it was Mrs. Martin, the sweet little old lady next door, wanting to drop off some freshly baked treat that she wanted her to try before she took it to one of her game nights. Which, Y/N had to admit, she loved when she’d come by with her signature chocolate chip brownies, she always made a heaping amount to share with her younger neighbor just because she expressed liking them one time.

She was approaching the front door. Using the peephole of the door, her heart sunk. Instead of seeing an older woman with a plate of treats in her hand, she was met with Spencer Reid.

It had been years since they talked last, the last time being a tearful Y/N begging her husband not to walk out the door, to stay and work out their marriage that she was afraid was starting to crumble into a thousand pieces. She could remember the bitterness, the hatred in his voice.

“Wait! Spencer, baby, please.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse from sobbing, her throat raw from having to yell over his loud voice just to get him to listen. “I know it’s hard but I need you to stay, we can work this out together. You know that. We always do.” Spencer was turning his head to face his wife, already packing his clothes away. “I don’t want to fucking stay. I don’t want your pity. Ever since I got home, you’re treating me like I’m some sort of child! I’m not!” His tone was laced with venom, enough to make the tears spring up in Y/N’s eyes again.

She knew prison would chip away at the Spencer she’d fallen in love with five years ago but she never expected things to go down like this. She’d done everything she could’ve thought of. She always made him some of his favorite dishes, she’d read to him, she’d hold him when he sobbed in her arms and relived the most traumatic experience he’d went through thus far. It was never enough.

He was different now. Irritable, temperamental, and he had a hard time composing his anger, not to mention that his once beautiful honey colored irises were dull, almost lifeless. He lost himself in prison, he wasn’t ever going to be the same. Instead of always greeting her with a hug and a smile after his days at the BAU or after cases, she was greeted to him starting to distance himself from her. It went from him coming home an hour late, to two hours, then three. She stopped making dinner, she stopped staying up to wait for him, she even stopped trying to reach out to him.

There was guilt, her brain rattled with so many what-ifs. If she left him alone more, would he have stayed with her? Would he have given her the same amount of love and dedication he’d once given her before? What could she have done to make him slowly begin to push her away, to serve her with fucking divorce papers?

Her tears stained the documents, her signature blurred out from how much she sobbed over the idea of losing the one real thing she’d ever known. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for his decision, she just couldn’t. Spencer had her heart, he took it with him out of the door when he left her, tucked away in his suitcase covered by the numerous suits and other necessities.

She was pulled out of her pain filled memories the moment she heard yet another knock. Was this a cruel joke? She was taking in a breath, collecting what little confidence she could manage to build up before she was unlocking the front door, her hand shaking from fear. As she was opening the door just enough to peak her head out, her lips were pursed in a fine line.

“Spencer.” Y/N spoke, her gaze firm on the man who had given up on her. “Hi, Y/N.” His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tone of their last conversation. “Can I come in..?” He asked, though his hand was slowly resting against the front door as he pushed it open, Y/N taking a few steps back to grant him access. She should’ve slammed the door shut, she should’ve locked it and sent him on his way. Yet here she was, slowly closing the door as she invited him to make himself at home.

“What are you doing here?” It took a lot of courage for her to open her mouth, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. She wasn’t going to cry anymore, mainly because she was so tired of crying over him. She’d done it enough within the past few years, if anything, she should’ve been out of tears.

“I’m here to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Y/N. I haven’t been honest with you. Guilt has been eating away at me and I can’t help but feel shitty.”

You should.

She’d never say it out loud but judging by the face she made, Spencer already knew what went through her mind.

“I just want to apologize. You are owed that much. Whenever I got out of prison.. I was a different person entirely. I stopped putting much effort into any of my personal relationships..” He began, which before his ex wife could cut him off, he was looking up from his feet with glassy eyes. “It’s because I was getting comfort from.. Other influences. Dilaudid.”

Spencer’s last addictions never defined him throughout their entire relationship, in fact, she was proud of him. He’d been doing so good, the temptation coming up every now and then but she’d be there to push him, to give him so much love and support to try and curb the relapse that could occur.

“Drugs change the writing of neurotransmitters in your brain, which can lead to aggression or mood swings. That’s why I was always hostile towards you and why I didn’t want to be around you.” Spencer explained, eyes on the ground in shame while his hands were coming up to rest over his face. “I knew I had a problem, I did. There was one day when you were trying to get me to eat lunch and.. I wanted to hurt you.” His voice broke at the admission, unable to meet her gaze. “That made me realize that I had a problem. A problem that I couldn’t control. If I couldn’t control my emotions, I would get to the point where I couldn’t control my actions..”

Just the thought of that scared the hell out of him.

“I left because I didn’t want to hurt you. It would kill me if I ever did anything to you. I mean, I was already spiralling because of the vivid nightmares from prison. PTSD and drug use are a horrible combination, dangerous. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

The explanation had hot Y/N like a ton of bricks. How could she not notice he had a relapse, she was supposed to be by his side and she couldn’t even fucking tell that he was struggling with impulse control as well as his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Spencer, I could’ve helped you.” She whispered, stepping closer to her ex husband while slowly taking her hands in his.

“Because you didn’t deserve a damaged husband who would weigh you down. I can’t expect you to babysit me all day and night, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You have a career, you have friends, you have so much going for you. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you threw your life away to essentially take care of me.” His words were barely above a whisper, as if the two had a risk of anyone listening in on their conversation.

“You are not damaged.” Y/N scolded softly while she was squeezing his hands slowly. “Spencer, I love you so much, I’ll always be here for you. Wife or not.” She said softly while her hand was now coming to rest gently against his cheek, as if he were fragile and one wrong move would shatter him like a stained glass window.

Spencer was finally meeting the irises that he couldn’t ever get out of his mind, the way there was a shine in them. Eyes were the window to the soul and hers reflected a beautiful, colorful soul and a strong fighting spirit she always carried with her. Even when she was broken down, that shine was there.

Her love was radiating onto him at the smallest touch, the man’s eyes closing briefly as if to compose himself. “I love you so much, Y/N. I will never be able to forgive myself for the way I pushed you away, the way I ended our marriage. I should’ve confided in you sooner. I just.. I was worried about you.” His words were genuine, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He whispered soon after.

If his pupils could be the shape of hearts, they would be. One thing about Y/N was that he adored her. He cherished her, took care of her. Even in the end when things went south, part of him still had that love that was locked away behind a crippling addiction that broke him down in the worst way possible. “When I wanted to just go back to using, I thought of you. How proud you’d be of me if I held off, how you’d tell me I did an amazing job getting back on track. You are my inspiration.” He whispered, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, holding her face in his hands as his thumbs traced over her soft skin.

There was a soft smile gracing Y/N’s features. “I am so proud of you. It takes a lot to admit when you have a problem, it takes even more to better yourself. Even if I’m not fond of the way you went about it, I understand.” She was honest. She didn’t like how he had to divorce her and disappear from her life. Nobody in their right mind would be okay with that.

For the first time since he’d came inside, there was a content silence filling the living room. It was comfortable. For the first time, home felt like home. However as the both of them stayed within each other’s embrace, it wasn’t long before Spencer was leaning down to kiss her.

Their lips met in a bittersweet collision, as years of longing and unresolved emotions surged through their bodies. The kiss began tenderly, a delicate exploration of familiar territory, before gradually intensifying with the fiery passion that had once defined their relationship. In that moment, they momentarily forgot the pain that had driven them apart, reveling in the sheer magnetism that still bound them together. There was no more pain, no more wondering what had gone wrong.

Their tongues danced in a rhythm only they could understand, tasting the remnants of past love and the promise of a future reignited. As they reluctantly pulled away, their gaze locked, and they both knew that their love still burned strong, an everlasting flame that kept them bound together. After all they’d been through, the love and care was permanent.

While drawing in a breath, Y/N kept her gaze on Spencer before slowly running her hands up his chest. It wasn’t a suit tailored for him like she’d been so used to before, instead a casual cotton shirt. In a way, it was comforting. He thought about her at times where he wasn’t chasing evil men and women on cases, when instead he was home at.. Well, wherever he lived now.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” She asked after a moment, her words coming out slow and her tone delicate, as if she had to worry about scaring him off if she was anything but. “I always sleep so much better with you..” She added on soon after while playing with a loose thread on the shirt, almost as if she had to distract herself from the way her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

It gave her flashbacks to when she and Spencer had first started dating, the both of them being soft with each other. The way that they’d both be nervous to ask the other to stay the night or when they’d be laying together and spoil each other in the wonders of intimate touch, their lips moving in sync.

That seemed so long ago now.

“Yes,” Spencer responded, not needing to spare a second thought. “I’d love to.” His own heart was racing, the feeling of being home slowly coming back to him. The comfort of Y/N being home, willing to hold him when he needed her. Tonight, he knew he needed her. In more ways than one.

Without a passing thought, the woman was being lifted into his arms while Spencer was reattaching their lips. There was love and need, yearning for the soft touch that they once shared. With the feeling of fingers tangling in his longer hair, he was almost running back to the bedroom that he’d remembered so well.

Without breaking the contact of their lips, Spencer was leaning down while carefully placing Y/N on her back, as if she was breakable. She needed to be handled with care, with appreciation. Not anyone would accept their ex husband despite his faults or listen to him when he’s explaining why he left. Most women would probably slam the door in his face. Not Y/N. Not the woman with a heart of gold. He didn’t deserve her love but she was willing to continue serving it to him.

Once she was on her back, Spencer was slowly pulling away. “I love you.” He whispered, the words just falling out of his mouth, reverting back to the ways that once were. The nights where they’d lay in the darkness, embracing one another during lazy post-coital conversations before falling asleep in those same positions.

“I love you so much.” He repeated as he felt like she needed to know his feelings never changed. His lips began to trail down her neck, his hands running down the silk nightgown. “I love you.” Y/N finally whispered in return, her head relaxing in her pillow while her eyes were fluttered shut, melting at each placed kiss.

Spencer let his teeth graze the now burning skin of her neck, eliciting a beautiful moan to fall from the woman’s lips.

This was heaven.

His lips were moving from her neck soon after that, his head lifting while the two were interlocking in a shared loving gaze. “You can keep going, you know.” She whispered, a little giggle leaving her lips at the way his eyes glistened in the soft lighting of the bedside lamp at her urging him to continue.

Spencer’s fingers were coming up to the flimsy straps of the nightgown, slowly pulling them from her arms while leaning down to trail kisses along her right shoulder. His hands were working to slowly tug the sleep garment off, almost as if he had to carefully unwrap a present to preserve the wrapping paper. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted her to see how much he truly did love and miss her.

He’d take care of her tonight.

Once she lifted her hips to assist in discarding the nightgown, he was drinking in the sight of the near bare woman in front of him.

Spencer had eidetic memory, however, when it came to Y/N’s body, you’d think it was his first time seeing it. The way his cheeks would flush, the way he’d revert back to being the shy man who couldn’t help but stare as if she were a beautiful oil painting hanging in one of the highest esteemed art galleries in Paris, France.

He was now sitting between her open legs, eyes scanning over her body as his large hands were slowly running up her inner thighs. “I’ve missed you, so much.” He spoke, gaze now moving to the beautiful smile that was spreading across her face. “I’m glad you’re here.” She spoke softly, the two basking in the moment. There was no rush, no. Instead, they were enjoying the intimacy of soft touches, admiring bodies, sharing longing glances.

“May I?” He asked, fingers now getting dangerously close to the place where she needed him most.

“Of course.” Her head nodded, a blush on her face.

The panties she had on had a sizeable wet patch in the center of them, her body reacting so positively to his kisses, his touch, everything. His fingers were slowly running over her clothed cunt, electricity shooting through her body at the mere touch.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was husky now, fingers looping in the waistband of her panties before he was tugging them down her thighs, a groan ripping from his throat once he could see her glistening pussy, sticky with arousal. “God, I love you.” He repeated for what felt like the millionth time in the night.

Spencer was getting up momentarily, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding his pants as well, leaving him in his boxers. As he’d gotten onto the bed, he was now laying between her thighs, hips pressed into the bed for when he ultimately needed relief of his own.

With one hand keeping her plush thighs apart, his tongue was now licking a stripe up her pussy, collecting just a taste of her arousal. Hearing her shaky breath from above him was enough to encourage his movements. After a few more long and teasing licks, his fingers were coming up to spread her puffy labia apart, his lips blowing cool air while the woman was mewling from pleasure, goosebumps spreading across her skin.

He ate like a man starved, his tongue lapping up all she had to offer to him, like eating one of the ripest fruits on the vine that was bursting with more flavor and sweetness after being freshly pulled from the tree branch. His chin was coated in her glistening juices, his nose brushing against her clit while his tongue was focused on swiping over her velvety walls.

With the sounds of pornographic moans filling the room along with the way her fingernails were digging in his scalp, it became to a point where Spencer was desperate for relief, his hips rocking against the mattress while he was focused on bringing the woman to her peak. As soon as he could feel her thighs begin to shake and her words were more incoherent, he knew what was to come next.

It wasn’t long though until he was pulling away, chuckling at the way she was desperately clenching around nothing as soon as he pulled away. “Hold on, pretty girl.” He purred, getting his fingers lubed up with his own spit before he was plunging them into the woman, a low moan leaving his lips as she was greedily clenching around his digits and pulling them in more.

“There we go.” He praised, the two fingers being thrusted inside of her needy core.

“I’m gonna— oh fuck, Spencer.” Y/N breathed out as her eyes were squeezing shut, her words encouraging him to fuck her faster with his fingers. She could feel the coil tightening in her stomach, her moans and whimpers of his name falling steadily from her lips.

All it took was him curling his fingers and pushing against her spongy sweet spot before she was cumming around his fingers, her hips rocking steadily against Spencer’s hand as she was doing her best to catch her breath, chest rising and falling rapidly.

As she’s ridden out the high, Spencer’s hair was being tugged in a gesture that was telling him move your ass, Reid.

So he was nearly stumbling to crawl up to hover over her again, the two attaching their lips in a much needed, more messy kiss than before. “Please,” She mumbled against his lips, making Spencer pull away. “Please what?” He asked, needing to hear her say it.

“I need you.”

Those words had his already hard cock aching in his boxers, making him stumble a bit just to get them down his legs before they were being tossed with the rest of the clothes in the bedroom.

“I don’t have a condom.” Spencer spoke, letting out a hiss of pleasure from the feeling of her hand wrapping around his cock to give it a few tugs. “We don’t need one. I don’t care right now.” Her voice came out in a desperate tone, making the man nod as he was letting her line up his tip with her leaking mound.

He was pushing into her slowly, sinking all the way to the hilt while the two let out a collective moan, Spencer’s head falling against Y/N’s shoulder as he let his eyes flutter shut, kisses being sponged to her shoulders as he gave her a minute. The way her hands were gripping onto him was a big indicator that just like himself, she’d probably not really gotten much action in a while.

“I’m ready.” She whispered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she was practically hugging him close. “I’ll go slow.” He spoke in return, now lifting his head to smear their lips against one another’s.

Spencer loved slow and intimate sex, the way they were pressed flush against one another, drinking each others moans while the world slowly stood still. His hips were thrusting at a steady pace, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his waist just to try and bury him impossibly deeper inside of her.

It was the ultimate form of love. Being able to savor one another, enjoy the closeness. There were times in the past where the two would talk and even giggle with one another while his cock was buried inside of her. It was comforting in its own odd way.

Tonight though, there wasn’t much talking. Instead there was soft, loving kisses, the mixture of moans and groans falling between the both of them, as well as the sound of the bed squeaking along with each thrust that the man made.

There was nothing but love in that bedroom, the two whispering sweet nothings to one another and making promises that would fully be fulfilled going forward. This was going to be the start of something beautiful, that was something the two were confident of.

“I’m close,” Spencer’s words were being muffled into Y/N’s mouth, the woman slowly pulling out of their shared kiss while she was bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. “Me too, don’t stop.” Her words were soft, a moan leaving her lips as she was letting her eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the mattress as she could feel her stomach tightening again.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Fuck.” His words slurring together as he brought one hand between their bodies, his thumb swiping over her clit in order to have her cum first. He prided himself on pleasuring her first and foremost, himself being mostly an afterthought.

As the warmth of her orgasm was washing over her, Y/N was hugging him as close as she could get him while a soft cry of the male’s name slipped from her lips. Chasing her orgasm, it wasn’t long until Spencer was letting go, a few more thrusts doing the trick as his warm cum was filling her to the brim. The feeling had the woman shuddering in pleasure.

With a thin layer of sweat coating their skin and their bodies still intertwined, Spencer was turning his attention down to the woman who he felt an intense and burning love for. “I promise you that I am not going anywhere this time. I’m tired of fighting M on my own.” His words were soft, his breathing still uneven. “I love you and I never want to be away from you like that again..”

“I love you so much more. You know that I’m always here for you, right? No matter what you’re struggling with. We are supposed to always be by each other’s sides. I made that promise to you and I never intend on breaking it.” Y/N assured.

“How about we to get cleaned up?” The make suggested, forcing himself to move away from the warmth of her embrace briefly. Instead of letting her get up though, Spencer’s hand was wrapping around her ankle before he was playfully pulling her to the end of the bed, making the woman laugh as she was being lifted in his arms.

“You could’ve broke my leg!” She gasped, a teasing tone chasing the words as she was letting her arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pressing kisses across his face.

A she was carefully sitting her on the edge of the tub, Spencer was turning on the faucet. After he’d gotten the water warm enough for the both of them, he’d retrieved the plug for the drain. Approaching the bathroom cabinet, he was kneeling down and rummaging until he was grinning triumphantly as he was retrieving a bottle of bubble bath soap, holding it up. “I knew you’d never get rid of this. As dumb as it sounds, I was so pissed because I didn’t take this with me.”

After putting a generous amount of the soap in the tub and watching it foam up, he was waiting until the tub was filled to their liking until he was turning off the water. He was the first to step in, getting comfortable before holding his hand out to help Y/N get in, a smile on his face. Even if it was a little awkward considering he was a tall guy in a small tub, they managed to get comfortable together with her on his lap.

One of her hands was collecting a bit of bubbles from the water before she was moving to place them over his face, a little laugh leaving her lips as she’d given him a bit of a bubble beard. “How old are we?” Spencer asked teasingly as he was doing the same thing with her, the two unable to help the soft laugh filling the bathroom.

“So, I have a legitimate question,” Spencer began while leaning back against the tub, a smile on his face. “Does this mean we have to get married again?”

The question made Y/N pull a face as she was pondering over the question. He had a point. How did this work?

“I say yes. Only because I think you owe me a much bigger wedding this time.” She joked, making the male laugh.

“My queen gets whatever she wants.”

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lil13 · 1 year

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Pov: Enemies to lovers. Specifically, Ethan is your academic rival and you absolutely hate him. Or so you think.

•

You walked through the door of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s New York apartment with Mindy and Anika in tow. Mindy was your roommate, someone you’ve known since preschool, so it wasn’t a question that the two of you would be roommates.

“T, please tell me this is going to be a girl’s night.” You asked, falling down on the couch you had taken 1 too many naps on over the past few months you all lived in the city.

After the most recent stabbings, you all managed to get into a summer program at Blackmore. The excuse was that you wanted to get ahead in college, but the real reason was you all couldn’t stand to be in Woodsboro any longer.

A blush rose on Tara’s cheeks and you knew that your girl’s night was in jeopardy. “Chad… might be coming.”

“If he brings his fucking, smart ass roommate i’m leaving.”

Mindy scoffed, sitting down on the couch with you. “Relax, Y/n, if he brings him, just ignore him. I don’t understand the beef between you two… I know why I don’t like him.”

The girl Meeks-Martin twin claimed that Ethan Landry — Chad’s roommate and your self-proclaimed mortal enemy — was not to be trusted. Ever since Amber and Richie, Mindy rarely trusted another person.

“There are a lot of reasons as to why I hate him, but one of them has to do with our Econ class.”

Sam handed you a beer, knowing you needed to be somewhat buzzed if the curly-headed boy was coming over. “Econ?”

“Yes, Econ, he’s… too good at it.” You scoffed, “He consistently has the highest average in the class and—”

“You’re not used to being second to anyone.” Tara connected the dots, clinking her beer bottle with yours.

You had been the Valedictorian in high school, #1 overall. So, coming to Blackmore and having this curly-headed boy so easily beat you out aggravated you. Since you realized he was your academic rival, you began finding more and more about him that bothered you. That way you’d hate him instead of only being jealous of him.

Jealousy bothered you.

On a list of things about the boy that bothered you:

His hair was too curly.

He was too nice.

He remembered details about everyone, down to their favorite m&m color.

He was a virgin.

He was insanely attractive, yet still single.

His study habits didn’t make sense, he got perfect grades and she had yet to actually see him study (but then again you didn’t try to see him at all).

You could go on and on.

“Knock, knock.” Chad’s voice rang through the apartment.

Two sets of footsteps could be heard and you groaned, Ethan had in fact tagged along. You chugged the rest of your beer, letting the alcohol course through your veins. Sam obviously saw this and brought you another, having it already opened for you.

“If I was into girls, Sam.” he winked at her and she laughed.

Chad and Ethan both sat on the couch and Quinn made you sit up to make room for the rest. Unfortunately for you, when you sat up, Ethan was directly next to you.

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, sinking back into the couch.

Tara and Mindy fought over the movie you all were to watch and you somehow landed on a scary movie you hadn’t heard of, but it was a group thing — you only watched scary movies.

Mindy and Anika were cuddled up and so were Tara and Chad. Quinn and Sam flanked the rest of the group. You and Ethan? You were dreading being in the same room as each other.

Time went and the week’s events and your now 3 beers had caught up with you, you were exhausted and somewhat drunk. Everyone was asleep and you couldn’t help but think how good of an idea it was.

You’d had a busy week, midterms had kicked your ass. You might’ve only slept an average of 3 hours each night. So, sitting still for an extended period of time made sleep want to come quicker. You gave in and let your head fall to the side, not even caring that it landed on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Y/N.” Ethan muttered, trying to make sure you were aware that you had your head on his shoulder — knowing of your hatred toward him.

Unbeknownst to you, the hatred was very much one sided. Ethan had the biggest crush on you. It was almost embarrassing, truly he wondered how you hadn’t noticed yet.

You were one of the main reasons as to why he was still single.

“Shut the fuck up, E.” you waved him off, “I’m aware you’re who i’m laying on, but everyone else is too far away.”

The movie continued to play and you got yourself comfortable, more of your body now lay on Ethan’s. You tried to ignore the feeling that surged through your body at the contact between your bodies. Your bodies were so close that Ethan’s hand almost had to rest on your thigh, you gave him no space to put it anywhere else.

Your eyes were pulled away from the screen when you felt movement on your thigh. Ethan was absentmindedly tapping on your leg and for some reason it was driving you crazy. Each tap from a finger sending electricity through your leg.

It was too much.

So, you jumped up from your spot, successfully making Ethan jump. “Y/N, what the hell?”

You shook your head and stumbled to the kitchen. Time for another beer.

You were quick to open another, number 4.

 Before you were joined in the kitchen, by none other than Ethan, you’d downed half of it. His eyes were wide as he reached over to slip it out of your hands. “That’s enough, Y/N.” A laugh fell from his lips.

You pouted, reaching for the bottle, but the boy held it out of reach. “E.” you whined.

The boy faltered, his hand dropping just enough for you to snatch the beer back. Another sip.

“Y/N.” he reached for the beer again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, some of the beer had spilled. Enough to make Ethan slip when he lunged forward, making him fall, taking you down with him.

Luckily, the fall didn’t hurt you too much, but now you were pinned underneath the boy.

“Ethan, you’re on top of me.” you whined again.

You could feel his heart beating against your chest. Was he nervous?

“Y/N, why do you hate me?” His voice sounded soft, almost as if he were hurt by your hatred.

He looked like a sad puppy and it made your heart hurt.

A sigh fell from your lips, “In all honesty, the only valid reason was that you’re better than me and Econ. My… my academics are all that I have, E. It’s all my parents cared about… you wouldn’t understand.”

Ethan let out a shaky breath, one of his hands came up to your face, his thumb running over your cheek. “I understand more than you know.” Your breath hitched at the skin-to-skin contact.

He must’ve noticed, because his eyes shot back to yours.

“I don’t actually hate you.” you whispered, his brown eyes were captivating.

The curly-headed boy stared at you breathlessly, his eyes now were flickering from yours to your lips. You paused for a second, thinking about what to do next. Should you kiss him, try to escape, or wait for him to grow a pair and kiss you?

 All seemed like good options?

However, if you and Ethan did kiss — laying on the kitchen floor covered in beer — you’d have to admit to the others that you didn’t actually hate the boy. In reality, your hatred had just stemmed from an insecurity.

So, you did it. You took the risk and lifted your head off of the ground, closing the small gap between you and Ethan. Your lips connected and it was like the final missing puzzle piece had been found. His lips fit perfectly with yours, no matter how cliche it sounded.

The hand he’d had on your cheek now held the back of your neck, holding your face to his. His heartbeat also hadn’t slowed, if anything, it got faster.

After a few seconds, Ethan pulled away. His cheeks had deeply reddened and both of you were out of breath. For someone who didn’t have experience in the dating department, Ethan kissed scarily well.

“Holy shit, are you guys okay? Your fall woke me up, but I kind of had to figure out where I was first before I came to check.” Anika’s sweet voice caught your attention.

Ethan rolled off of you, both of you startled by the sudden presence of another, his rather large body slamming into the cabinetry. It sounded and looked like it hurt, you’d make sure to check on him later.

“Oh.” She had a devious smirk on her lips, “Did I walk in on something? Y/N did you finally give up on your ‘I hate his guts’ bit? The tension between you to is so-”

You waved your hands to stop her, “Ani! Stop, please.”

She giggled, “And now i’ve got my answer.” Anika playfully waved, skipping back out of the room.

You covered your face with your hands out of embarrassment, trying to ignore the events that had happened. Ethan falling on you, being covered in beer, kissing Ethan, and Anika walking in on the two of you in a rather compromising position.

“Y/N.” Ethan tugged at your wrists, attempting to uncover your face. “I understand if that was a heat of the moment thing, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

His voice sounded small, like earlier.

Your eyes went wide and you dropped your hands, rolling over to your side to face the boy. “No, no, no.” This time it was you who ran a thumb over Ethan’s cheek. “I was stupid to hate you, E! Please don’t think I didn’t want to kiss you, I don’t kiss someone if I don’t want to.”

“But all those guys at the parties-”

“I wanted to.” You laughed at his question, “But you’re different. You’re special, Ethan Landry, and I was too consumed by my own academic agenda to notice.”

He was quiet, but not in a sad way. The boy looked at you with more adoration in his eyes as you’d ever seen someone look at another with.

Then his lips found yours again.

#ghostface #jack champion #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #avatar #avatar the way of water

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nolovelingers · 9 months

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NOT TOO CLOSE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ethan landry !!

⋆ ★ you remember the first night you met. the shared lingered feeling of a message you couldn’t quite decipher, something telling you all signs were red and pointing in the opposite direction; away from him. it’s too bad, you always had a thing for pretty boys. — short blurb !!

cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, ghostface!ethan ,, mentions of alcohol ,, first meeting ,, fem!reader ,, swearing

PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone , sorry if the formats funky !

——————————————————————————

maybe it was the way the lights were strobing, the haze of the chattering college students lost in their own conversations; the smell of cheep booze and the familiar tinge of marijuana finding its way to your nose and leaving you with a twisted knot in your stomach, the effects of the own alcohol you previously consumed somehow contrasting itself by both numbing half your senses and heightening your other ones.

in the eyes of blackmore university, there was never a holiday too small nor an event too hyped to not celebrate in everyone’s own little way; a halloween party suited for what felt like a small village as you navigated the house packed of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, students laughing and socializing their way through their own buzzes.

not ethan.

clinging onto his roommates side, chad almost wanted to be annoyed by the way ethan couldn’t bare to branch himself off and meet new people but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so as a feeling often described as pity clouded his intoxicated senses.

“dude, we gotta get you a girlfriend.” chad joked (but not really), feet firmly planting on the ground next to the curly haired boy who leaned himself on the doorframe in front of the stairs; the two observing the party in their own little world.

chad wanted to meet new faces. ethan did not.

ethan rolled his eyes, clutching his red solo cup closer to him as a look contorted on his face that of annoyance and disgust before quickly letting his features fall flat and conjure a forced one, embarrassment.

“if it’s that much of a bother to you, you can go talk to some girls. ill just stay here.” he mumbled, looking like a child who just got rejected from buying a toy from their parent. deep down in the pits of his twisted heart he hoped chad would opt out of leaving, not wanting to appear like a loser as he stood alone and drank his embarrassment away.

“really? thanks bro, i was hoping to score some digits tonight.” chad smiled gratefully, already trying to turn away and leave the second ethan gave him his own sort of permission.

“what?! come on, dont leave me here by myself. i look stupid.” immediately ethan felt his heart drop of the idea being seen standing alone at a party, and no matter how much he had disdain to his so called ‘friends’, no matter how badly he wished nothing more than to see chads face as he plunged a knife sharp enough to cut through metal like cheese through his body; to see the life leaving his eyes and the wound oozing that beautiful crimson red color ethan couldn’t seem to get enough of, the last thing he wanted was to look awkwarder than he already was perceived to be.

“you just said i could go!” the dark-skinned boy argued, turning back around to face the taller brunette who gave him the most panicked look in return.

“yeah, cause i was hoping youd say no!”

“how does that make any sense?! if you didn’t want me to leave, just say that!”

ethans face turned into a bit of a pouting look as he silently pleaded for the martin boy to stay by his side.

“look, why don’t you just come with me? i don’t understand what you’re so freaked out about.” chad bargained with ethan who in turn immediately shook his head, planting his feet in the position they were in.

“nope, no way. girls are scary!” ethan spoke in a whiny tone, pausing for a moment before bringing his cup up to his lips and taking a swing of the hard hitting beverage, a stinging in his throat lasting for about a minute as he continued conversing with chad.

“and that’s exactly why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” the shorter boy witted back, causing ethans face to quickly form into what looked to be shock and hurt masking the actual feeling of anger he felt. joke or not, ethan was actually a very hot tempered boy who could get offended quite easily; not that anyone knew that.

the martin boy sighed and decided to rest a reassuring hand on the brown eyed boys shoulder, observing his face which was slightly shaded from the cardboard robot helmet he was wearing, probably another reason ethan was hardly getting any female attention. his costume.

“listen man, stand here and mope all you want, the whole part of a party is to meet people and have fun. i get your shy and you got that whole loner gimmick going on but i don’t want that to stop me from getting my chad on! ill be back here to meet up with you in an hour, maybe try meeting someone new, doesnt even have to be a girl at this point. just.. try, okay?”

chad offered ethan a sympathetic look which only made ethan cringe more before he removed his hand from his shoulder and took off to a group of dancing girls, smoothly sliding in and sparking up conversation almost immediately. how ethan envied that.

letting out an internal (and slightly external) groan, ethan brought his cup up to his lips once again and finished the rest of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on chad who was already talking and laughing with a group of students; entirely girls, that ethan shared a class with.

for almost a minute he didn’t move, suffering in silence and shooting a death glare at chad hidden under the dim lighting of the house. honestly? ethan couldn’t wait to kill him.

he felt isolated. watching everyone mingle and dance with their friends, lovers, and even strangers. he had no other solution than to to drink away his embarrassment, he thought, as he turned around to make his way to the kitchen where the alcohol was, taking one step forward and immediately running into someone shorter than him; their own drink splashing all over the both of them, wetting his cardboard chest piece and their outfit too.

“ah shit- fuck, im sorry about that, seriously.” he’s met with a small voice, not quiet but not extremely loud, gentle enough so that if you want to be able to hear it properly you’d have to tune the blasting music out and focus entirely on them.

jesus fucking christ, give me a break already! ethan thought to himself, annoyance brimming through his entire body as he glanced to the now darker and wet spots of his cardboard chestpiece before finally looking down and at the person who bumped into him, a girl.

“accidents happen, don’t worry about it.” he forced out, trying for the death of him not to want to reach out and strangle you right there; his face was met with an awkward half smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. despite his anger, he was able to take the time to notice that your face wasn’t half-bad to look at.

he continued to stare at you for a moment, waiting for you to say something, maybe to apologize again? to stumble out some stupid excuse? pathetically flirt? well, not that he’d really mind that last part if he was being honest. he liked the idea of having a girl liking him, but he was terrible at initiating anything.

“you all good? you’re not gonna malfunction on me or anything?” you joked, the both of you internally cringing just a bit at the awkwardness but it seemed to calm ethan from his current state of mind as he met you with furrowed eyebrows and a unsure smile.

“oh, the costume.” he spoke, mostly to himself, while scratching the back of his head. “think ill be good.”

you nod, the fainted tinge of pink lighting up your cheeks and ethan studies you for a moment longer.

“are you new? i haven’t seen you on campus before.” curiously, the brunette boy watches your face for a reaction, taking note of your every move while under his watch.

“sorta. i mean, if you consider three months to be new. i transferred here a while ago, it’s always been my dream to move to new york so once i saved up some money i chased my dreams.” you explain, and ethan nods, finally allowing a boyish smile to consume his features. for the most part it was forced, continuing to hold up his friendly image.

he doesn’t have to reply before you hop to the next subject, this time you’re asking the question.

“aren’t you chads roommate?”

“yeah, im ethan. ethan landry. nice to meet you..?” he holds his hand out for a handshake, trailing off the edge of his sentence as he waits for you to finish.

“(y/n). nice to meet you, ethan ethan.” you accept the short handshake, gently shaking hands and noticing the unreasonable strength and grip to his hold that didn’t seem the match the innocent, and dare you say weak look written all over his face while making a bad joke about his name from his introduction that still seems to score a smile from him; and ethan couldn’t help but notice the fact he didn’t have to force this one on his face. it came naturally.

“(y/n),” he repeated, as if trying your name out for himself. he smiled a little, that same shy nerdy facade written all over his face. “you got a last name?”

“does it matter?”

“i- guess not?” he looked a bit caught off guard but there was no actual hostility or mystery in your voice, just some sass. you were honestly entertaining.

“so why’re you standing here all alone?” you switch topics again, which ethan took note of. your mind seemed to wonder fast, moving from one thing to the next with no hesitation.

“ah, it’s kinda embarrassing.” the boy admitted, a small warm blush coating his pale complexion as he found himself not wanting to tell you the real reason why. wait- a blush? no, that couldn’t be right. he must just be feeling hot. all the alcohol was effecting him, or something. “i don’t really know a lot of people here, so i was just hanging out with chad till he left me to go talk to some girls.”

“ah, a typical chad move. literally and figuratively.” you nod, feeling yourself start to relax your body language more around the curly haired brunette the longer you were near him.

he chuckled, looking at you with those sweet chocolate brown eyes of his that gave you the most heartwarming feeling. “you’re kinda funny.” he tries to compliment, smiling now, a more natural grin than the ones he offered you originally. though it could be taken as a compliment or an insult, his tone genuinely sounded sincere, like he had no bad intentions. he was just an awkward guy who had no idea how to socialize or talk to the pretty girl in front of him pretty girls.

“i kinda thank you?” you respond, definitely confused on how to take in his comment.

he smiled awkwardly at you and seemed to look as if he was hiding his face as he glanced to the floor. “sorry,” he mumbled, and you felt your heart twinge as he resembled that of a hurt puppy.

“you’re good. i appreciate the sentiment.” reassuring him, he glanced back up at you with a crooked toothless smile, feeling his guard come down all around him. he had no idea why he was feeling this way, or why it felt so easy to talk to you.

there was a moment where silence fell between the two of you, staring deeply into your eyes he looked like he wanted to say something, an internal struggle of conflict in his mind while you simply watched in utter bliss and oblivion to the situation.

“i guess i should get going, i have to find my friend before they run off with some stranger they just met to hook up with. ill see you around though?” you offer him politely, and ethan felt a strange hollowness in his heart at the idea of you leaving him, but he pushed those feelings back and nodded anyway.

you’re about to turn around, start the search for your your friend in the mass of drunken college students, and you make it about five whole feet away before a voice calls your name. ethans voice.

“hey, (y/n)?” you turn around, meeting his eyes again. there’s something in them this time. it’s noticeable now as he locks eyes without you. something a bit sinister about the way he holds your gaze and his stance now looks like he’s taking over the whole room, confident but dark all the same.

“yeah?” you ask. you definitely notice the way his eyes have lost all emotion except one: danger. but this is ethan, ethans a nice boy. it must be the dim lighting and the short yet further distance between the two of you than it previously was.

“don’t get too close to me.” he warns you, and you feel a strange feeling crawl up your spine. the way he looks at you while he says it. the way his tone has completely voided from the sweet voice you were speaking to before and the aura all around him that now screams danger.

you don’t know what to do, unsure of what to say. maybe he was joking, maybe he was drunk, or maybe he really just didn’t want your companionship.

all you can do is awkwardly smile. “ill see you around, ethan.” and with that, you walk away from him, searching the packed house for your friend and forgetting about the short yet easy-going (up until the end) conversation you held with the landry boy.

and though you’ve pushed your interaction to the back of your head, ethans eyes never once leaves the back of yours.

𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𖦹 a/n :: the most unrealistic part of scream vi is that ethans a virgin

started 08.04.23. finished 08.04.23.

(о´∀`о)

©️nolovelingers 2023

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preet-01 · 1 month

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M sounds like such a maxiel prompt. Up to you what shenanigans Daniel asks Max to do. Or maybe he could be asking him to come live on his farm with him in the off-season?

M — "I need to ask something of you." "Always. Anything." "Don't say that before you hear what it is. Seriously."

This was such a maxiel prompt but it took me so long to decide on just one way it could go

Somewhere in the club, Martin was giving one of the best shows of his life, all to celebrate Maxy's fourth consecutive championship win, but Daniel couldn't care a single bit about Martin's music. All he wanted to do was find Max.

"Maxy!" Daniel cheers when he does finally find the Dutchman ensconced in between Charles, Lando, and surprisingly George.

"Daniel!" Max greets, always so happy to see Daniel, and god does that do wonders for his ego. It’s always nice to know that someone other than your parents is delighted by your presence.

"Boys, I need to steal the world champ away," Daniel tells the others. He doesn't wait for a response, just drags Max away from them. Max for his part, comes along happily and giggling.

"Where are you taking me?" Max questions.

"I need to ask something of you," Daniel tells him when they're in some quiet corner of the club away from everyone.

"Always. Anything," Max replies without hesitation. If he's honest, then Max's answer is terrifying. It gives him too much power, too much control, something that he doesn't want to have over anyone, especially not Max. Especially not when it concerns what he's been dying to ask Max all year long now.

"Don't say that before you hear what it is, seriously," Daniel states, his mind wandering back to how Max had always listened and never denied him anything. Even in the middle of the night, Max would answer his texts and calls with a slightly concerning promptness that not even his mother had.

Daniel has spent months trying to figure out how to finally express his feelings to Max after years of pulling away when they got too close. He’d spent months thinking of the best way to tell Max that he’d been an idiot for years now and wanted, no needed to be Max’s in every sense of the world. He’d planned out his every word just to make sure he wouldn’t make a mess out of it like he had so many times in the past.

But instead he says, “tattoo me. Mark me as yours and yours only.” Which is far from what he had planned to say, but still the general idea.

“Are you serious?” Max is all wide eyes and parted lips as he stares at Daniel in that mesmerizing way of his where Daniel just drowns in Max’s Maldives sea colored eyes.

“As a heart attack,” Daniel answers

Max doesn’t tattoo him that night or for many nights to come, instead he marks Daniel in other, less permanent ways. It makes Daniel curse himself for being scared of having this for so long, but also so glad that they’d begun this part of their relationship when both of them were mature and wiser. He would have hated to lose Max after experiencing him so intimately.

He’d never been one to get hard when someone tattooed him, pain didn’t connect to pleasure in his mind. Pain was pain and it was not very fun. But Max with his brows furrowed and attention solely focused on Daniel’s upper thigh as he pressed the tattoo gun onto Daniel’s skin definitely did things to Daniel.

High on Daniel’s thigh, where no one except Max will see, there’s a tattooed heart with M + D in it. Just like they’d joked about well over a year ago.

#answered #maxiel #and then they live happily ever after on Daniel’s farm

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contemplatingoutlander · 9 months

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Worried by Florida’s history standards? Check out its new dictionary!

As always, Alexandra Petri is spot on in satirizing the right-wing censorship and educational nonsense happening in Florida. This is a gift 🎁 link, so you can read the entire column, even if you don't subscribe to The Washington Post.

Below are some excerpts 😂:

Well, it’s a week with a Thursday in it, and Florida is, once again, revising its educational standards in alarming ways. Not content with removing books from shelves, or demanding that the College Board water down its AP African American studies curriculum, the state’s newest history standards include lessons suggesting that enslaved people “developed skills” for “personal benefit.” This trend appears likely to continue. What follows is a preview of the latest edition of the dictionary to be approved in Florida. Aah: (exclamation) Normal thing to say when you enter the water at the beach, which is over 100 degrees. Abolitionists: (noun) Some people in the 19th century who were inexplicably upset about a wonderful free surprise job training program. Today they want to end prisons for equally unclear reasons. Abortion: (noun) Something that male state legislators (the foremost experts on this subject) believe no one ever wants under any circumstances, probably; decision that people beg the state to make for them and about which doctors beg for as little involvement as possible. American history: (noun) A branch of learning that concerns a ceaseless parade of triumphs and contains nothing to feel bad about. Barbie: (noun) Feminist demon enemy of the state. Biden, Joe: (figure) Illegitimate president. Black history: (entry not found) Blacksmith: (noun) A great job and one that enslaved people might have had. Example sentence from Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R): “They’re probably going to show that some of the folks that eventually parlayed, you know, being a blacksmith into doing things later in life.” Book ban: (noun) Effective way of making sure people never have certain sorts of ideas. Censorship: (noun) When other people get mad about something you’ve said. Not to be confused with when you remove books from libraries or the state tells colleges what can and can’t be said in classrooms (both fine). Child: (noun) Useful laborer with tiny hands; alternatively, someone whose reading cannot be censored enough. [...]

[See more select "definitions" below the cut]

Classified: (adjective) The government’s way of saying a paper is especially interesting and you ought to have it in your house. Climate change: (noun) Conspiracy by scientists to change all the thermometers, fill the air with smoke and then blame us. [...] Constitution: (noun) A document that can be interpreted only by Trump-appointed and/or Federalist Society judges. If the Constitution appears to prohibit something that you want to do, take the judge on a boat and try again. [...] DeSantis, Ron: (figure) Governor who represents the ideal human being. Pronunciation varies. Disney: (noun) A corporation, but not the good kind. [...] Election: (noun) Binding if Republicans win; otherwise, needs help from election officials who will figure out where the fraud was that prevented the election from reflecting the will of the people (that Republicans win). [...] Emancipation Proclamation: (noun) Classic example of government overreach. Firearm: (noun) Wonderful, beautiful object that every person ought to have six of, except Hunter Biden. [...] FOX: News. Free speech: (noun) When you shut up and I talk. Gun violence: (noun) Simple, unalterable fact of life, like death but unlike taxes. [...]

Jan. 6: (noun) A day when some beautiful, beloved people took a nice, uneventful tour of the U.S. Capitol. King Jr., Martin Luther: (figure) A man who, as far as we can discern, uttered only one famous quotation ever and it was about how actually anytime you tried to suggest that people were being treated differently based on skin color you were the real racist. Sample sentence: “Dr. King would be enraged at the existence of Black History Month.” Liberty: (noun) My freedom to choose what you can read (see Moms for Liberty). Moms for Liberty: (noun) Censors, but the good kind. [...] Pregnant (adjective): The state of being a vessel containing a Future Citizen; do not say “pregnant person”; no one who is a real person can get pregnant. Queer: (entry not found) Refugee: (noun) Someone who should have stayed put and waited for help to come. Slavery: (noun) We didn’t invent it, or it wasn’t that bad, or it was a free job training program. Supreme Court: (noun) Wonderful group of mostly men without whom no journey by private plane or yacht is complete. Trans: (entry not found) United States: (noun) Perfect place, no notes. [emphasis added to defined words]

#florida #ron desantis #black history #educational standards #alexandra petri #satire #the washington post #gift link

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gabigabigabby · 6 months

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burning wheel | m. ødegaard

martin ødegaard x haaland!reader

ft. erling haaland

synopsis: martin invites you and erling to arsenal's brand new training compound

a/n: this is a weird ass dream. but martin and erling were in it so it's not so bad

warnings/content: erling probably receiving second-degree burns idk, cocky!martin bc i love writing him, and cocky!erling too ig, dialogue in norwegian, not proofread, lmk if i missed out anything! 🫶🏽

—

the initial offer was to have you and erling walk around the arsenal's brand new training facility. martin did mention that this time, the facility is not like any other facility you have visited. he was definitely talking about the etihad campus, which you spend most of your time in because of erling.

there is a goddamn go-karting track here! martin's text to you read.

this child, you thought to yourself the minute you read his text. martin had asked you to invite erling as well, so you texted him your plans for the afternoon. erling replied with a nonchalant i'm down before you send him the address of the brand new arsenal training facility.

upon arrival, martin had excitedly began waiting for you at the front doors. you come driving in first, erling pulling into the wide — and empty — parking lot minutes after.

"tell me about this karting track you have." erling's voices booms through your eardrums, martin glaring at his adamant nature.

"it's down this way," martin begins leading you and your brother down a ramp before turning a left corner. "this has got to be the biggest karting track i've driven at."

to you, it seemed like a standard sized karting track, almost as big as the paul ricard circuit, located just outside of monaco — but you kept quiet. "choose your karts, guys, let's go on a drive before dinner." martin decides as he grabs a helmet before hopping in a red kart.

"which color kart you want?" erling asks, grabbing a helmet for you, then himself. you point at and walk towards the orange one as he settles himself in a blue one. before you could even warm up the brakes and engine of your kart, martin, followed by erling, had already zoomed forward and proceeding into the circuit.

you'd learned to always warm your brakes and the engine before driving — too much formula 1, you think to yourself. once you assume the engine right under your seat had warmed, you push the clutch as the kart begins to accelerate slowly. as you do so, you test the brakes. once the brakes were warmed up to your liking, you proceed into the circuit, hoping the two other norwegians haven't driven far.

you drive the course, secretly wishing it was bigger than you'd expected. not that it wasn't a difficult course — the obstacles were so-so — but it could've been better. arsenal have so much money and can only come up with this? you'd thought. you continue driving, slowly picking up the pace bit by bit, before you finally are on erling's tail.

"took you long enough, lillesøster!" erling cries ahead of you. [baby sister]

"irriterende." you glare, pushing on the clutch harder than before, which allowed you to drop erling's jaw as he eats your dust this time. this time, you are right on martin's tail, and lucky for you, martin has no idea you are now right behind him. [annoying]

soon enough, you'd gained enough momentum to be wheel-to-wheel with martin's kart. your sudden ascent to be by his side took him by surprise which made him swerve left and right. lucky for you, you had managed to drive ahead before he did so. from all the formula 1 you've watched, going wheel-to-wheel isn't going to be good for either you or martin.

unbeknownst to you, erling had found a shortcut that will put him right in front of you and martin. your jaw was on the floor when you saw him make the turn on the outside, taking his place before you. erling had begun to feel sorry for you, so he didn't bother to cross the line. though martin had passed the checkered flag, he still sped down the straight, when you and erling — who maintained his pace ahead of you because like it or not, he wasn't going to win this war — had already started to press on the brake.

erling still finished before you, as you notice his kart start to catch fire from the drag. you jump off your kart, running over to your brother and pulling him away from the remains of the kart.

"er du ok, bror?" your worried tone smoothly slides into his ears, his eyes finding yours. [are you okay, brother?]

"ja, helt fint, takk," erling brushes off his shoulders of the track debris. "hvor er den lille gutteleken din?" [yeah, just fine, thanks. where's your tiny boy toy?]

from your peripheral vision, you see a kart slowly drive backward as if it was in the process of parking, coming closer to you and erling. you head gestures towards the kart, answering erling's question.

"there's a podium there," martin begins as you approach him. "you know, if you want to live your kimi räikkönen dream."

"ayrton senna, thank you very much." you correct him.

"sounds about right, since he rarely finished first." martin teases, knowing you'd get defensive about it so he runs up the podium steps before you could react.

you step on the number three podium, erling taking p2 and martin taking p1. somehow, erling managed to get his kart on the podium next to him. you shrug, realising your brother is a literal viking, and if he could haul a grown bernardo with just one arm as easily as holding a newborn, what is a kart to him?

martin began waving to an invisible crowd. "who do you think you are, mati, seriously?" you scoff.

"max verstappen, of course," martin replies matter-of-factly. "you are lando norris," his finger wags at erling on the second podium on his right, then you on his left. "and you are sir lewis hamilton."

you were about to protest, but then you shrug it off. you'd die to be sir lewis hamilton, even just for a day. as you drift off into your world of imagination, you hear sparks begin to erupt on your right. erling's kart was slowly sparking. just as you thought you heard. a spark finally shoots into erling's waist, which shot him down.

huh. you never thought a little spark could bring down big mighty erling. you had to find martin's eyes, is he seeing the same thing? he is and he did.

unclasping your helmet, you turn to your brother with your hand reached out before him. his ego didn't let him ignore it this time as it usually does. erling shoves his hand out to you for a congratulatory shake. "good game, min bror." you grin, taking his hand. [my brother]

"du også, gutt," erling raises his head, glaring confidently at you through his eyelashes. "now let's go to dinner and forget that ever happened." [you too, kid]

#martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin ødegaard x reader #martin odegaard x reader #mø8 #mo8 #arsenal #arsenal fc #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #erling haaland #erling haaland x reader #man city #manchester city #mci #mcfc #football

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baby-alien11 · 1 year

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being in a relationship with Chad and Liv

Some would think that living in a small town like Woodsboro will be fun and quiet, but after the mass murders that had happened since the 90's and the Stab franchise nothing was the same

Fortunately, you grew up with a nice group of friends who almost everyone (rarely) had a relation with previous victims from past ghostfaces, being Tara and you the only ones who weren't related to them

But the one who you were most close, was Chad

While growing up, you often spend time in your houses, it didn't matter if it were to do homework, play, watch movies or simply spend time doing nothing

Being that close, meant that your parents were also close due to your friendship

Sometimes when you spend time in the Meeks-Martin house, you would scape to Mindy's room to watch true crimes videos or documentaries

Ending in a small discussion between the twins about spending time with you

All that closeness between you and Chad developed into a relationship when you were starting high school

Basically, things stayed like before, except that now there were kisses and playful touches between the two

And also intimacy moments

During the most part of high school, the two of you were the perfect example of childhood friends to lovers and kinda like the perfect couple

And then, Liv McKenzie entered both of your lifes

"Who is that?", you asked to no one after saw her walking in the hallways, "I love her pink hair"

"That's Liv, we work together", Tara who was with you and Chad at that moment, answered

"She looks nice", Chad commented

After that moment, you and Chad often tried to be close to Liv due to curiosity and interest towards her

Which she gladly accepted because she felt comfortable around you two

It wasn't until a few weeks later, that you and Chad realised that both of you developed feelings towards Liv

Realising that, you and Chad talked about the situation for a few hours, you two went to the conclusion tthat both of you liked Liv and wanted to try a relation of three

But first of all, you needed to talk to her to know her opinions

"Hey, Liv", you called her while you were getting your nails done, "How you feel about consensual relationships of three people"

"I think they're interesting", she responded, "I guess it's more fun and all that, why the cuestion?"

"Simple curiosity", you shrugged, "Chad and I are going bowling tonight, want to come?"

"Sure"

Having that answer, you and Chad decided to wait a few days to tell Liv about your feelings

The day when you both decided to tell her about having a relationship of three, Chad and you decided to do it in a comfortable place, which was your place

When Liv arrived, you led her to your room when Chad was waiting

Explaining everything to her on how you and Chad like her and how both of you developed feelings towards her, ending with the proposal of becoming a throuple

With fear for her answer, you both listened what she had to say

Sighing in relief when Liv also said that she liked both of you, starting a relationship that same day

The next day at school, when the three of you entered taking hands no one was surprised because of your closeness

But when you three shared a kiss before going to your classes everyone lost their minds

"What the hell?", Wes murmured

"Y/N likes girls and didn't tell me?", Mindy exclaimed, "I'm her best friend!"

"I kinda see it coming", Amber commented

"Same, they often spend all the time together, it was a matter of time", Tara agreed

Liv was an artistic person, and she had her collection of different pencils of color, markers, paints, etc, so both of you often, mostly because of boredom, used the markers to color on Chad's tattoos

One time, accidentally use the permanent ones, so he had to go like that during a few days

For a few months, things were good

Until Tara was attacked by Ghostface

With the attacks back in town, Chad had the idea that the three of you had the FindMyFam app to keep track on each other

But Liv and you rejected the idea

Also it wasn't very helpful to the situation, that Liv's ex hook up was around

"Oh shit, is that...Vince?", Liv interrupted the conversation about Ghostface

Hearing that, you and Chad were the first to alert noticing the guy a few metters away

"Wait, the creep you hooked up with last summer?", Chad asked

"Yeah, he worked with me and Tara"

"Babe, your taste got better after waisting your time with the creep", you commented while circling her waist with your arms

"He worked with Tara?", Amber asked with interest

"He's been stalking my Instagram the last couple weeks, posting the creepiest shit"

"Probably time to introduce him to Hobbs and Shaw", Chad said refering to his muscled arms

"All the time that Mindy and I spend watching true crime videos, is finally paying off", you add with a playful smile, "I know how to hide a body without leaving evidence"

After hearing that Tara had woken up, all the group, except for Liv, went to the hospital, were a few time later, Tara's sister, Sam along her boyfriend Richie arrived

Things got worse after the first attack, because after a discussion between Chad and Vince at a bar, the older one was founded dead, and in the hospital, Sam was attacked by Ghostface

The next morning, Sam called to a reunion in the twins house to find a solution about the situation

Thanks to the fact that you, Liv and Chad slept in there to feel more secure, which Mindy took every opportunity to tease the three of you

Sleeping in the same bed, implied that during the night the three of you often change positions, almost always ending with one of them falling of the bed, mostly Chad

But that helped to feel a little more relaxed

Also, there was the fact that Martha, the twins' mom, loved Liv and you like daughters, so she didn't have a problem with the three of you hanging out in her house

During the meeting, Sam revealed that her father was Billy Loomis, one of the original killers

That revelation and the connection in the kills, ended up with Mindy saying a monologue about how all of you were in a 'requel' and only legacy characters die

Unfortunately, these rules didn't apply because Wes, Sheriff Jude and Dewey died

Due to that, Amber had the "great" idea to host a party in honnor of Wes

"I hate this house", you said while you and Liv waited for Chad who was looking for drinks, "People died and was stab in here"

"It has bad vibes", Liv agreed, "I don't know how Amber can live in here"

"That's a little suspicious now that you said it, why live in the murder house?"

"Beautiful ladies, your drinks and boyfriend are here", Chad interrumpted handing the drinks

After a little while, with the drinks forgotten in the center table, the three of you started to get a little more passionate

When suddenly Liv broke the moment to confess that she was ready to elevate things in the relationship

While you were happy that she felt comfortable with having sex, Chad on the other hand, rejected the idea

And ruin it by implying that Liv might be the killer, which ended up in her leaving mad

"Okey, I'm going to follow her and try to fix this", you said to Chad standing up from the couch, "When we back you are going to apologize"

"I didn't meant to make her mad", Chad defended himself

"I know, but you did, so think about what you are going to say to apologize"

"Are you taking your personal defense keychain?"

"As always!", that was the last thing you said after leaving the house

While crossing the front yard, you took the keychain in between your hands firmly to start walking in the streets, founding her in the middle of her way home

"Liv!", you yelled gainning her attention whitout stopping to run towards her, "Wait!"

"Y/N, babe what are you doing?", Liv exclaimed hugging you, "There's a killer on the streets!"

"I know, but I'm sorry for what Chad said, he was wrong, but he's a little paranoid about this shitty situation"

"So you came to apologize in his behalf?"

"No, I came to look for you so he can apologize"

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I do", you said while taking her hans, "Babe, we love you, and yes Chad was an idiot for implying that, and that's why he wants to apologize, so can we go back and be the happy throuple that we are?"

"Okay"

During the walk towards Amber's house, Liv realised that she left her phone at that house, which was weird because she always had it in her purse

When you arrived at the house, the horrible scene of Chad laying on the grass covered in blood and cuts was the first thing you saw

Inmediatly, both of you run towards him to see how bad he was

"He has pulse!", you anounced with tears after checking his vital signs, "Fuck! What the hell happened?"

"I'll go alert the others", Liv said standing up to run inside the house

"Be careful", you exclaimed before returning your attention to your boyfriend while applying presure to some cuts, "Don't worry babe, everything is gonna be okay"

Without stopping to apply preasure, you managed to call 911 to ask for help

Unfortunately, things inside the house ddin't seem well becuase all the noise from gunshots, screams and hits making you feel scared for your girlfriend and friends

During the sunrise, all was over in time when the police and ambulances arrived at the place

Quickly, Chad was put in one of them to threat his injuries while you stayed by his side

But everything went down when both of you knew that Liv was a victim of the killers, who were Amber and Richie

Hearing the fate of your girlfriend, Chad and you started crying in pain due to the loss of the girl you loved

During the funeral that was a few days after, both of you tried to stay strong for Liv's family, but it was hard because all the memories that you shared

"Guys, I want to thank you for making my daughter happy", Liv's mom said during the reception at the McKenzie home, "At the beggining I wasn't sure about the whole throuple thing, but she was happy"

"We loved her very much", you said trying to contain the tears

"She was so special to us", Chad added

"And I wanted for you to had something from her"

"Mrs McKenzie, that is not necessary", you tried to argue

"Please, I know is what she wanted", Liv's mom insisted, "Please"

At the end, both of you ended up choosing some scrunchies and accesories that she often use

Also, when Chad was full recovered, the two of you decided to have a small tattoo of the letter "L" in the left wrist in her memorie

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brokenanxiety · 3 months

Note

Can you write something where Mat Barzal fell in love with the team physical therapist and she also fell in love with him ?

as an occupational therapy student this pains me...

you begin working for the islanders organization at the beginning of the 2022-2023 season

the first time you meet mat is at a preseason team dinner where the medical team and the players all attend

mat noticed you right away and was def chirped by marty and zeeker for staring too long

"who is she? havent seen her around."

"thats y/n. shes the teams newest physical therapist. she will be with us at home and on the road if needed."

fast foward a couple of months, you and mat are joined at the hip

you spend all your free time hanging out with each other: early morning coffee dates, late night drives after games, movies nights cuddled up on the couch

you werent sure after which of your countless platonic hangouts did you start to look at mat differently

maybe it was after matt martins 2023 poker tournament or maybe it was after a long road trip where he came over and demanded you cuddle him until your arms went numb

mat knew from the moment he saw you that he would fall in love with you

falling in love with you was the easy part, not showing it was the hard part for mat

he tried to remain subtle but every cuddle sesh had him wanting more and it takes everything in him to not kiss you after a home game win when he sees you walking in the hallway back to your office

without fail, mat will visit you in the physical therapy room at least twice a week

he doesnt even need anything most of the time, he just wants to chat. he wants the chance to be in your presence and just admire your beauty

the first time mat admits, out loud, that he loves you is when you are asleep in his arms (or so he thinks) and he whispers "im so in love with you and you have no idea. wish you would let me call you mine some day."

although you are not an official wag, sydney martin always makes sure to include you at wag events

the girls are so invested in you and mat getting together

they are the first people you admit to that you like mat, maybe even love him; but they already knew that

"girls, i cant. im the teams physical therapist. plus he only sees me as a friend. he would never see me like that."

mat takes you as a plus one to a wedding during the offseason

of course you color coordinate (mats request) and the other guests cant help but comment on how cute you two are

during the bouquet toss, you stand in the back hoping that the bouquet wouldnt come close to you

you were wrong as it lands perfectly in your hands

you run up to mat all excited and gushing about how pretty the bouquet is and how unexpected it was to catch it

in the middle of your ramblings mat mutters "fuck it" under his breath and pulls you in for a passionate kiss

"wow. that was just..." you say breathlessly

"yeah. ive been waiting to do that for months."

not really physical therapist specific but hope you enjoy anon

#rebecca's neurons are firing #mat barzal #answered

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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 7 months

Text

Dress

Full Masterlist | Teen Wolf Masterlist

Anonymous Request: So, like two days ago, I was reading some Stiles fics while listening to Reputation, and Dress came on and I audibly gasped when it got to the bridge. Like, I have no idea how I’ve never associated "Flashback when you met me, your buzzcut, and my hair bleached" with him, lol. So, I was wondering if you could write a Stiles x best friend! reader one-shot based on Dress? ❤️❤️❤️

Summary: As cliche as it sounds, you fell in love with Stiles' spastic personality and his keen eye for evidence. Of course, you never acted on these feelings, until Stiles invited you to a party his friend was throwing.

A/N: Yes!! This is perfect!! Enjoy, love!!

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Your Sister -> Lydia Martin

Warnings: none

Stiles Stilinski x-reader

"Okay, so," Lydia paused, "What do you think of this one?" My sister turned to look at me with a lace dress in hand. She kept it on the hanger, setting it on the doorknob of her closet. Lydia had been helping for the past hour to find a dress for the party Stiles invited me to. And, of course, Lydia kept pestering me about my harbored feelings for my best friend.

I continued to tell her that it was nothing but a thought that popped into my head, but that was the complete opposite. That thought didn't just pop into my head. It was in my head almost every day. I knew I shouldn't think about him like that, but I couldn't help it. And, what made it worse, is he probably didn't feel the same.

Our secret moments in your crowded room They got no idea about me, and you There is an indentation in the shape of you Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Lydia always said that it wouldn't hurt to ask, yet in this case, it would. If I did ask, I'd risk rejection and possibly my dignity. Lydia turned around again to see me thinking to myself. "Hello, Earth to Y/N," Lydia waved her hand. I looked up at her to see her holding yet another dress with gold heels in her other hand.

"I'll go with the first one," I said.

She smiled and put the white dress back into her closet. Lydia walked over to where I sat, setting the dress on the bed. My sister clapped her hands together. "I'm so excited for you," Lydia said, sitting down beside me. "It's just a party," I shrugged, playing with the frayed edge of her comforter.

She looked at me with raised brows, her arms crossed. Lydia leaned against the headboard of her bed. "It's not just a party, Y/N/N," she said, "It's a party that the guy you like invited you to." I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Stiles and I are just friends. Nothing more," I said.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting My hands are shaking from all this

My sister rolled her eyes and stood up from the bed. She walked over to her dresser, grabbing the heels and purse to put them beside the dress. "So, you're telling me all those stolen glances, touches on the shoulder, finding pieces of fuzz in your hair, and winks," Lydia said, "Have nothing to do with your feelings? Because last I checked, those actions are 'more than friends' actions."

I shook my head, beginning to lose this conversation for a second. "Fine," I sighed, "Maybe I like him a little bit. And, maybe, I sort of, chose that red dress because red is his favorite color." Her eyes widened at that part of my sentence. I didn't do a very good job of muttering my response. Lydia gasped slightly, applauding herself.

Say my name, and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off Carve your name into my bedpost 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off

"I think you did more than just pick his favorite color," Lydia winked. She nudged my shoulder, causing me to nudge her back. She grabbed my hands and brought me up from the bed. "Let's get you ready," she said. I sat down in front of her vanity.

Lydia stood behind me, looking at my hair to see what she wanted to do. We decided to keep it the way it was, but she insisted on curling it just a little bit. It took a few minutes until Lydia was done helping me get ready.

I waited on her bed as she got herself together. She and Aiden were going together after she found out that me and Stiles were attending. She wore her favorite black dress, matched with a pair of silver heels. The two of us got our things together before walking downstairs.

I was excited about the party, but part of me was even hesitant about going. But I knew that if I didn't go, I'd regret it. It didn't take long till Stiles' jeep and Aiden's motorcycle pulled into the driveway.

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try And if I get burned, at least we were electrified I'm spilling wine in the bathtub You kiss my face, and we're both drunk Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about

+++++++

(Later That Night)

The party was going great. Nothing had happened, which meant that nothing had happened between me and Stiles. Lydia and Aiden were somewhere at the party. While Stiles and I stayed side by side. Claire, the host of the party, also was somewhere in the party. She had said her hellos and then left with her boyfriend.

We sat at one of the tables, watching as some of the partygoers walked past us and danced horribly. I saw Stiles try to hide his laugh as some guy tripped over his feet. It had been silent between the two of us, but it was nice.

The thought of confessing to Stiles kept going in and out of my head.

Lydia might've been right like she always claims she is. She always said that it was exhausting watching me keep my feelings to myself. "Hey, Y/N," Stiles said. I looked away from the ground to look at him. He smiled (GIF Above).

Stiles was wearing his favorite blue and red flannel, which Lydia claimed he only wore when I was around because I said I liked it once.

He stood up from the table and extended a hand. "C'mon," Stiles said, "We're at a party, let's go." I smiled and set my hand into his. He twirled me around as the two of us walked over to the middle of the room where everyone else was dancing.

Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off Carve your name into my bedpost 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off

My hands rested on his shoulders as his hands were on my waist. He smiled down at me. Stiles lifted a hand to push some hair away from my face. I'll admit, I was never planning on falling in love with my best friend. So much that I told myself I never would, but here we are.

Stiles and I met in middle school, me with the bleached hair and him with his buzzcut. Of course, the first thing he said to me was something about my hair. Me and Lydia had done some hair experiments the night before, and I sadly got the horrible aftermath.

And that's where the friendship began. Stiles and I started hanging out almost every day after school and every weekend. We'd hang out at the arcade in town and sometimes at the forest lookout. Then when we started high school, that's when things changed.

Typically, everyone changes in high school, but this felt different. I started to notice things about how I felt about Stiles. I noticed how I'd smile at his stupid jokes or how I would purposefully say I didn't understand something just so I could be beside him.

It didn't matter if we were best friends, I just cared about being with him. And, some part of me knew that he felt the same. Stiles stayed with me even in my worst times and during my best times.

Even in my worst lies You saw the truth in me And I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My one and only, my lifeline

Now, we were in our last year of high school, graduation just a few weeks ahead. Stiles' hand lingered on the side of my face. His thumb ran across my cheek. I looked up at him, leaning into his touch. "You okay?" he asked, "Y/N?"

I nodded. I couldn't stop my gaze from drifting from his eyes to his lips. Stiles seemed to notice because I spotted a smirk rising on his freckled face. Stiles leaned down, giving me a soft kiss. I felt his hand leave my face to rest back on my waist. He lightly brought me towards him.

He pulled apart, arms still around me with my hands remaining on his shoulders. Stiles smiled down at me. "Wanna get out of here?" he asked, his voice slightly at a low. I nodded in response. He smirked and kissed me on the cheek before grabbing my hand.

When leaving the party, Lydia spotted me from the other side. She brought a thumbs up and winked at me. I chuckled and followed Stiles to his Jeep.

There is an indentation in the shape of you Only bought this dress so you could take it off You made your mark on me, golden tattoo Only bought this dress so you could take it off

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voraciousvore · 3 months

Text

Candy and the Beanstalk

I wanted to write something light and silly and fluffy, since I've been writing so many dreadfully dark stories lately, so I put my OCs Candy Caramello and Martin Maneater into a classic beanstalk story. No actual vore in this one, just cute g/t fluff and some mild sfw romance. Enjoy (I hope)! :3

Word Count: 3.9k

They came from the sky, draped in remnants of clouds. Nobody knew how, or whence, or what they were, other than the fact that they vaguely resembled beans—beans with an exotic iridescent sheen, pulsing with a rainbow parade of luminescence. Upon their initial discovery, in a fallow dirt field, they drew considerable attention and curiosity. As obvious magical objects, they fetched a high price among buyers eager to discover their secrets.

Unfortunately, these buyers were soon disappointed to find that their fortunes had been wasted. Not a single person could get the beans to grow, nor could they extract any magical properties. The kaleidoscope of lights that displayed on their smooth surfaces gradually faded to a dull, lackluster brownish green, just like any other bean, with only the occasional spark of light to betray their original appearance. The mysterious beans from the sky soon faded into obscurity as people lost interest, deemed nothing more than a hoax or scam.

Out in the countryside, far away from the hustle and bustle of major townships, lived a humble peasant girl by the name of Candy Caramello. She was a very sweet and pretty girl, blessed with lovely blue eyes and long blonde hair, but she was also as dumb as a box of rocks. She lived with her parents on the family farm and worked as a milkmaid, with big milkers of her own to match. Regrettably, she wasn’t good for much else beyond the simplest tasks, especially with how clumsy and accident-prone she tended to be, so her parents didn’t have high hopes for her. She spent her days daydreaming about boys as she milked the cows and fed the animals.

One day, one of the older cows stopped producing milk. Candy brought this unfortunate news up to her mother. “Mom, the cow’s broken. Her udder’s all shriveled up.”

“Well, the cow’s of no use to us anymore. Take it to the market to sell it for its meat and hide,” her mother ordered.

“Really? Me?” Candy replied with surprise, twirling strands of her lustrous golden hair around her fingers. She usually wasn’t assigned much responsibility.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She’s bound it muck it up,” her father whispered. Mrs. Caramello shushed him and sent her daughter on her way.

“She’s got to learn eventually,” her mom sighed, once she was out of earshot. “We can’t treat her like a baby forever.”

Candy skipped along the dirt path to town, excited for a new adventure as she led the cow by a rope. Her blue eyes sparkled with joy as she beheld the scenery: undulating fields of grain, majestic old oak trees, fresh green grass, fluffy white clouds glowing with sunshine. She walked over a stone bridge and watched fish dart around in the sparkling waters of the river below. The cow impatiently pulled on the rope to hurry her along.

She entered the market, and was immediately distracted by all the new sights and sounds and people. Stalls lined the streets bursting with fruits and vegetables, colorful textiles, hand-crafted goods, and a wide array of exotic baubles and trinkets. Candy forgot about selling the cow as she browsed goods that she had no money to buy.

“Hey, you! Wench!” a gravelly voice called from the entrance to a dark, deserted alley off to the side.

“Hmmm?” Candy turned her head and walked toward the sketchy area, oblivious to the potential danger.

“Is that cow for sale? How much?” the voice rasped. A shadowy figure, cloaked in midnight blue garments, crept out of the shade from the brick walls that hemmed in both sides of the narrow passage. He was a lean, tall man with a sickly mien.

“Ummm… what’s your best offer?” Candy inquired. She had no idea how much she was supposed to sell the cow for.

“I have something that might interest you…” A gnarled hand emerged from the folds of the cloak, holding a small drawstring bag full of small lumps. “Magic beans!” He opened the bag and pulled out a bean to show her. To Candy’s amazement, the bean flickered with light.

“Magic?” Candy’s eyes gleamed. “What do they do?”

The mysterious individual hesitated, as if not anticipating the question. “Uh… they’ll make you rich! Fabulously rich!” Candy looked at the stranger blankly. Money was fine and dandy, but not what her heart truly desired. Sensing her apathy, he changed tactics. “Or… they’ll help you find true love!”

Candy, being the hopeless romantic that she was, lit up. “Really? All that for a cow? Why? How?”

“Erm, don’t worry about that. Just, uh… follow your heart and look to the heavens and you’ll have your answer!”

Candy agreed to the deal, and traded the cow for the beans. As she left, the stranger muttered under his breath, too quiet to hear, “What a fool… those beans are useless…”

On her way home, Candy pawed through the bag and examined the beans. None of them had that special spark or sheen that she witnessed earlier, but she wasn’t deterred. She believed in the magic with all her heart. She couldn’t wait to plant them and see what would happen. Would they bloom with fantastic buds, opening to reveal a handsome prince? She nearly squealed with joy at the thought. She entered her cottage home just as the sun was beginning to set, bathing the landscape in orange twilight.

“Mom, Dad, look what I got for the cow!” Candy proclaimed, holding up the sack of beans triumphantly in her hand.

“What’s that? Gold coins?” Mr. Caramello asked.

“No, even better! I got beans! Magic beans!” Candy poured the beans into her hand so they could see. Her parents stared dumbly at the dull pile.

“Please… tell me you’re joking,” her mother uttered in disbelief. Candy gave a slight shake of her head, clueless. “Candy, you clod! You traded an entire cow for a handful of beans?”

She snatched all the beans out of Candy’s hand and threw them out the window. “Empty-headed simpleton! You got scammed! You wasted a perfectly good cow!”

“I told you this would happen,” her father muttered. Mrs. Caramello elbowed him hard in the side, making him grunt. Candy hung her head, dejected. She wanted to shrivel into the floorboards and disappear. She tried her hardest to please her folks, but somehow she always messed everything up. Her best was never good enough for them. She fought back tears.

“Ugh, just get out of my sight,” her mother said with a disgusted wave of her hand. Candy turned around with a despondent slouch and obeyed, dragging her feet out the door.

“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on her, dear?” Mr. Caramello murmured, once Candy was out of earshot. “She can’t help it that she’s so stupid.”

“I’m just sick of her being such an airhead! She needs to get her head out of the clouds and grow up!” Mrs. Caramello spat back with frustration.

Outside, Candy walked over to the beans scattered in the soil and plopped down on her knees. Sniffling, she scooped the beans up into her hands with some crumbs of dirt and gazed down at them sadly. They didn’t glow, stubbornly insisting on remaining a bland monochrome green. She poked her fingers in the dirt and scooped out a hole, then planted the beans and tucked them in with a pat of her hands. She kept her hands in place, sitting in the dirt as the sun sank below the horizon, quenching its fire into the earth. Her remaining energy died with the light.

With a laborious sigh, Candy went back inside the house, avoiding her parents and laying down in her bed to sleep. A trickle of melancholy dribbled into her core as she huddled on her side and stared at the wall. She was desperate to please; at the end of the day, she just wanted to be loved and held. She wanted a caring man, big and warm, to wrap his arms around her and tell her that she wasn’t useless. She wanted to feel precious and special, beloved and cherished, rather than being such a worthless disappointment. Candy shivered, pulling the bedsheets up to her chin, and fell asleep.

Little did she know that the beans, hidden beneath layers of earth, were radiating multicolored flashes. They had awakened from their long-dormant state with a burst of fire. Candy’s sweet touch had brought them to life. Like Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone, Candy had something special that the magical beans patiently sought.

While she slept, a fresh green sprout emerged from the ground and reached for the sky, twisting and looping in a rapid ascension. Tendrils swirled in spirals and springs around each other as they lengthened and expanded in scale. Leaves grew from tender buds into magnificent foliage large enough to lay on like a mattress. The stalk thickened and swelled, transforming from a thin vine to a pillar to a massive verdant structure, broader and taller than the biggest redwood trees.

Candy woke up early, as was her habit, to let out the chickens and milk the cows. When she walked out the door into a dark shadow, she turned around to behold the gigantic beanstalk towering above her, above the house and surrounding countryside, impossibly tall, so high up that she couldn’t even see the top as it disappeared into the cloud layer. She stood there and gaped in astonishment, not believing her eyes. She wondered if she was still dreaming as she slowly stepped up to the plant and placed her palm on its glorious green surface. It was real. The magic was real.

She craned her head back to gaze up into the sky. The words of the bean seller popped into her head. Follow your heart and look to the heavens. When she initially heard those words, she thought he meant to pray for divine intervention, or have faith or strength of spirit. Now, however, the words took on a whole new meaning. Clearly, she was supposed to literally ascend to the sky, via the magical bridge created expressly for her.

The task before her was daunting, but Candy was firm with resolve. She dreamed, in her most honeyed fantasies, of finding true love. The ceaseless desire burned in her so strongly that she feared she would turn to ash if it were not satiated. She didn’t know what could possibly be in the sky that would aid her in her quest, but she was determined to find out. She took a deep breath to steady herself before beginning her journey. She gripped a coiled vine in her hand and started to climb.

At first, scaling the beanstalk was fun, reminiscent of a joyful childhood climbing trees. As the time stretched on, though, Candy’s optimism waned and her muscles began to ache. The labor became arduous. As the atmosphere thinned with the great height, the air chilled and the wind bit through her light clothes. The verdurous shoots of the beanstalk were soft and feathery in some parts, hard and sharp in others, digging into the skin on her hands. Whenever she grew weary, she rested on one of the many giant leaves. She didn’t want to stay in one place for too long, though, since she still had a long way to climb.

Candy considered giving up, but at some point she realized it would be just as hard to return to the ground far below. The distance was dizzying; Candy was just grateful she wasn’t afraid of heights. The beanstalk occasionally swayed in the breeze, making her cling with a death grip to the leafy vines until the stalk steadied again. When she needed a distraction, she admired the view. She could see for miles around. The farmland below, from such a grand height, looked flat, since none of the objects below could compare to the colossal twisting tower.

Candy entered the cloud layer, where the air was moist and frigid. The initial wisps of cloud thickened into heavy white puffs that produced dark shade. Candy was tempted to curl up when the cold ice particles surrounded her, and her hands met crusts of ice on the foliage, but she forced herself to continue. Finally, she emerged from the cloud layer, back into the brilliant sunshine.

Her eyes just about boggled out of her head when she surveyed the cloudscape around her. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an entire alternate world up in the clouds. There were trees, and flowers, and a garden, and even a charming cottage close by. Candy cautiously tested the surface of the clouds and was surprised to find them pleasantly firm beneath her feet, like solid earth. She hopped off the beanstalk, stretched her weary arms, and headed towards the nearby cottage.

She immediately discerned that something was amiss as she grasped the true nature of her surroundings. The grass was tall, easily as tall as she was, and the flowers towered over her head. The trees stretched up into infinity, their branches and leaves fading into the blinding mist higher up. Candy gawked over a fallen acorn as big around as a barrel of ale as she walked past it. The cottage at first glance appeared close, since it was such an immense building, but was actually quite far away.

Candy faltered as she recognized just how shockingly huge everything was, especially the house. Who could possibly be large enough to inhabit such a vast structure? Fear flooded her heart, yet her curiosity and desire ultimately won out. She believed in the magic of the beans, even more so as she beheld such impossible, remarkable sights. She felt, in her heart, she was destined to come here—as the bean seller had promised her, to find love.

She cautiously approached the cottage, marveling at the inconceivable scale of it all. Up close, the house was so large that she couldn’t take it all in at once. She stumbled over some pits in the ground, failing to notice that the ridges taken as a whole formed a giant bootprint. She reached the door, which stretched hundreds of feet above her head, and gazed up at it in wonder. There was no way she’d be able to open it on her own, but she was small enough to crawl underneath it, through the gap between the door and the floor. She slipped inside, her heart racing.

The inside of the domicile would be rather average-looking, if not for the size. Candy found herself on a huge, scratchy welcome mat that nearly matched the square footage of her cow barn back home. She stepped over the threshold and onto a boundless stone floor. As she walked forward, with her diminutive shoes clicking on the stone, a tremendous masculine voice boomed from somewhere inside the house.

“FE!”

Candy stopped dead in her tracks at the enormous voice. The loud sound was followed up by a substantial thud, then another, and another, which Candy recognized as the rhythm of giant footsteps.

“FI!”

The steps rapidly approached, nearly knocking Candy over with how much they vibrated the floor. Her heart jumped into her throat. Logically, she knew she ought to run, but she was petrified in place.

“FO!”

The source of the disruption made his appearance, rounding a doorframe into the room. He was a giant man, hundreds of feet tall, with stormy gray eyes, short dark hair, and a sturdy build. He thundered toward little Candy, who was too stunned to move.

“FUM!”

His boot slammed down next to her. At her height, she wasn’t even tall enough to reach his ankle. He kneeled down, looming over her.

“I smell the blood of an Englishman!”

Candy gasped as a gigantic hand, with fingers thicker and longer than her entire body, overshadowed her. She finally snapped out of her paralytic state and turned to run, but she had no chance of escape as the fingers closed around her in a fist. She watched the floor drop away below as she was lifted up to the giant’s face so he could get a better look at her.

“Er... Englishwoman,” the giant corrected himself, once he was able to see her closer. Candy gazed up at his huge face, into his soft gray eyes. He had a prominent nose, full lips, and a forest of stubble around his mouth and chin. Other than his size, he didn’t look menacing or evil. As a matter of fact, Candy found him to be strikingly handsome. Perhaps even the most handsome man she had ever seen—the kind she fantasized about all day while she milked the cows, when she imagined her perfect man.

“Hmmm, I’m in the mood for a sandwich,” the giant rumbled to himself, standing up with the tiny woman in his fist. Candy wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. She was spellbound. She felt her face warm up with him so close, so huge, all around her. His fingers wrapped around her body as warmly as she pictured the arms of her fictional lover last night. Was this the man she was supposed to meet? Her true love? Sure, he was enormous, and not quite what she had expected, but true love conquers all, right?

The giant, oblivious to her thoughts, got out some slices of bread, meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and condiments, and started prepping his sandwich. Humans weren’t common up in the sky, and he hadn’t eaten one in a long time, so he was looking forward to a rare treat. He thought it odd that she wasn’t struggling in his fist or pleading for her life, as humans normally did when he threatened to eat them. Maybe she was too frightened. She was shaking a bit, after all.

Candy rested her elbows on his finger and held her chin in her hands with a dreamy gaze. “What’s your name?” she asked.

The giant was confused by the question, and her placid demeanor, but dutifully replied, “Martin. Martin Maneater.” He paused midway through spreading sauce on his bread. “What about you?” Why am I asking this girl her name, when I’m just going to eat her anyway? To be polite?

She giggled, her face flushing at the attention. “Oh, I’m Candy. Candy Caramello! It’s lovely to meet you!” Martin blinked, increasingly baffled as he looked down at her. She wasn’t afraid of him at all. In fact, she had a rapturous look that was enthusiastic enough to make him blush. A woman had never looked at him quite like that before. And gosh, she was pretty cute too… just his type: blonde, blue-eyed, busty, and completely adorable.

“Um…” Martin suddenly found himself tongue-tied. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to eat her, not fawn over her! And yet… and yet… his heart was singing in his chest with a thrumming rapid enough to make him lightheaded. He abandoned his sandwich and sat down in a chair at the dining room table, loosening his grip on the little lady since she apparently wasn’t going to bolt.

With his mind drawing a blank, he asked the first question that popped into his head. “How did you get here, Candy?”

“Oh! I planted some magic beans and climbed a giant beanstalk! It was amazing!!” Candy chirped as she twisted a strand of golden hair around her finger. She caressed Martin’s giant finger with her other hand, reveling in how warm and soft his skin felt on hers. Martin blushed again at the physical contact. He liked it more than he cared to admit.

“Ah, the beans… that makes sense…” Martin muttered. “They only grow for special people, you know…”

“Is that so?” Candy said in a seductive tone, batting her eyes at him. Martin’s heart jumped as she twirled playfully in his loose fingers.

“Y-yeah… they only grow for a human of exceptional stock, one that is… especially tasty.” The giant raised a brow, curious to see how the woman would take this information.

She didn’t skip a beat. “Awww, so you think I’m tasty?” Candy flirted with a wink. The literal meaning of his words seemed to be lost on her. Martin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m sure you are,” he teased back, running his tongue over his lips.

Candy’s eyes lingered on his lips longer than he felt comfortable, as he felt himself drooling over her scent. “The bean seller told me I could find true love with the magic of the beans!” she blurted out. Martin raised his eyebrows with surprise.

“Oh! Uh… hmmm… that’s interesting…” Martin stammered. What was he supposed to say to that?

“Can I kiss you?!” Candy’s abrupt intensity was shocking.

Martin reddened. “K-kiss me?”

“That’s how you find out if someone is your true love! You have to kiss them!” Candy insisted. “That’s how it works in the fairy tales!”

Martin’s tongue tripped over his words as he became increasingly flustered. He was about to deny her assertion, tell her love didn’t work that way, but… her little face and body, resting in his hand, made his chest swell. He wanted to kiss her, badly. He was lonely, living in the clouds all by himself. He wanted a woman to love, to call his own, and here she was, literally sitting in the palm of his hand, begging for his affection. How could he possibly refuse?

“O-okay. Sure. Yeah.” His heart pounded in his chest as he raised her up to his lips. He was tempted to scoop her up into his mouth, being the man-eating giant that he was, but he politely refrained and puckered his lips gently. He pressed his plush lips to her tiny body, feeling every soft curve she had to offer. She kissed him back, her touch light and soft. He could feel her excited heartbeat pulsing in her chest. He pinned her down in his palm with rising ardor as he leaned into the sensual kiss. He could even taste her incredible caramel sweetness as his tongue touched her body. She was divine. His entire body burned with a sudden fiery passion that radiated from her touch on his lips all the way down to his toes.

He could hardly tear himself away when he finished kissing her. He craved more. She lay flat on her back in his palm, hot and slightly soggy, her cheeks red as a rose and her eyes glistening with stars. She looked like a tiny angel.

“I-I think you’re the one, Martin,” she uttered breathlessly. “That was amazing.”

“Mmmmm, I agree,” Martin purred, caressing her body tenderly with his finger. He couldn’t believe his luck. He leaned down for another kiss, this one short and sweet but no less passionate. “Who knew a human woman could make me feel this way...”

Martin cupped her in his hands and took her into his living room. He reclined on the couch and relaxed, holding the tiny woman against his chest. As he drifted off for a nap, he hoped in his heart that this whole encounter wasn’t all just a dream, and the tiny woman in his hands was, in fact, real. Before he closed his eyes, he looked down at her, snuggled up in the curve of his palm on his chest, rocking slightly with every beat of his heart. She was so trusting, already fast asleep in his hand after a long and exhausting day of climbing.

Maybe true love was real after all.

Writing Masterpost

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esther-dot · 6 months

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Lately I've been toying with the idea that Jon will indeed become king of the FF. It's the only reasonable ending for him, the only one that matches both Jon's show ending and Sansa's book foreshadowing (to marry a king, not a prince, not a king who had been). I think the show ending on such ambiguous (and bitter!) terms for Jon was decided because of the sequel. In other words, I'm considering the possibility that M. will transfer his 5year gap at the end, and we'll see them again at the end after some time will have lapsed and they'll be older and firmly in their positions. But, with this ending I'm afraid we'll only get hints of Jon and Sansa's romance on page, and nothing too explicit (although I guess that it might have a role in Daeny's death).

I think that, throughout the book, the famous "the FF don't kneel" is only meant to be subverted: they will kneel to Jon, after everything he has done for them, and he will probably settle them in the Gift(s). In my opinion, this ending is truly poetic. If ASoIaF is a fairytale, then the hidden prince does not become king because of his inheritance (which he has already foresaken just as he will reject the Targaryen inheritance: so vividly given as "I don't want it!" in the show, lol), but has forged a kingdom for himself, because he is truly worth it. I am not sure that he will go to the Wall because he will be punished, but regardless, he will become king of the FF. If it will be like this, then Jon's ending is the apotheosis of subversions.

And only as an equal will he be able to marry Sansa: when Sansa becomes queen, everybody will want her for her claim twice over, unless her husband is already king. I think this ending is foreshadowed in her ASOS, Sansa IV chapter: two castles in the sky, one black, one grey, become one in all the colors of spring. Note that this is something Sansa sees in the morning sky, meaning after dawn.

And with this explanation I've made peace with the disastrously ambiguous ending of GoT.

I wish you'll make your peace too, Esther!

(old anon btw, anxiously waiting for your posts for years, and now this darn thing made take a name. So be it).

It's so nice to finally "meet" you @justleaves!

I like that reading of book foreshadowing and the mess GoT gave us. You know I can't agree with most of the fandom that we can entirely or even mostly dismiss the show's ending. Too much of it gave me that, "it was always meant to be this way" feeling and since the ending of the show, Jonsas have turned up a lot of foreshadowing for Arya sailing away, King Bran, Dark Dany, Jaime and Cersei dying together...so many things were kinda-sorta right, just presented so horribly they felt wrong!

I've always felt very weird about Jon becoming King of the FF, most of us Jonsas reject that out of hand because it really rubs us the wrong way, but I had a series of anons critical of Martin's handling of aspects of Dany's POV some time ago, particularly how he characterized the Dothraki, and I did go back to read/re-watch some interviews, and I've accepted he doesn't share our sensibilities there, or on a handful of other issues. I hadn't even realized I was projecting when I dismissed the possibility of a kid from a different culture becoming the leader of an indigenous group. To me that is inherently negative. But of course, at the time when Martin began all this, it wasn't generally perceived that way, and we have Mance so...

Right after GoT ended some of us speculated that not including the Gift was why they had Jon ride off past the Wall with the FF, while in the books, he might be responsible for the Gift, so I really like how you've blended the two. I've written before about how it would make sense to me that Jon rejects the Stark/Northern claim and then rejects the Targaryen/Southern claim, and is rewarded in he end for those decisions, and I think it would be a more satisfying resolution to the bastard struggle if he is chosen as a leader because of who he is rather than who his "father" is (whether we mean Ned's son -> KitN or Rhaegar's son -> Targ heir). The way Jon is of the North, has such connections to the Starks (whether as Ned's bastard or Lyanna's boy post parentage reveal) as well as his time with the FF, the understanding he has and care he has for them which others do not, well, it certainly sets him up as a great bridge between the cultures. A person uniquely capable of creating a lasting peace.

I also really like your idea of the time-lapse because a) Sansa's age b) allowing all these revelations time to settle. I can't rationalize how the cast of characters would accept Jon as the legitimized son of Ned, only to turn around and accept that actually he's Lyanna's son, and how they'd be ok with a Jonsa marriage immediately thereafter. And that's not even dealing with how he'll be perceived/the rumors that will be swirling around him post rez and whatever his actions are immediately after. Love it in fics, but when I think about it in Martin's words, hard for me to imagine, so the idea that in a few years after Jon has established himself they'd be able to marry, that makes sense to me.

I think this ending is foreshadowed in her ASOS, Sansa IV chapter: two castles in the sky, one black, one grey, become one in all the colors of spring. Note that this is something Sansa sees in the morning sky, meaning after dawn.

That is a beautiful reading of the scene! I can easily see that being the idea! The other reading I've seen on this is that it's the Jon and Sansa competing claims being joined as the solution to the Northern succession crisis (that may be @agentrouka-blog's spec? I'm not successfully turning anything up atm). I had actually written into the margins in my copy "sounds like Winterfell" by the line about a castle in ruins, and later in ASOS, we have back to back Jon and Sansa chapters that talk about Winterfell and have a weird number of similarities (link). But, specifically, the ruins/rebuilding idea seems like it points to Jon and Sansa's stories converging and allowing them to restore Winterfell together:

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins. (Jon XII, ASOS) The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. The castle was all that mattered. Some things were hard to remember, but most came back to her easily, as if she had been there only yesterday. The Library Tower, with the steep stonework stair twisting about its exterior. The gatehouse, two huge bulwarks, the arched gate between them, crenellations all along the top . . . (Sansa VII, ASOS)

So as always, I see the pros, I see the cons, I can't make up my mind, but I'm ok with that. I have no problem talking about GoT/my frustrations when I get an ask, but after I wrote my post canon fic Free, I just...wasn't angry anymore. D&D's choices will always baffle me, I'm disappointed we don't have TWOW yet, but I enjoy the different spec, fics, gifs, and art we have in the Jonsa fandom, so as long as we're all having fun, I'm happy.

I'd love to read any other observations you have about ASOIAF and fairytales, I think posts about parallels with other lit are fascinating!

#jonsa #jon's ending #dot chat #< for filtering

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hummingbirdspark · 4 months

Text

Feel free to use these ideas if you want! You do not need to credit me, but just let me know you did so I can read it.

Details for the story ideas under the cut

Kidnapped and forced to do maths

Pretty self-explanatory, they get locked in cells equipped with digital blackboards and stuff and can’t leave until they answer enough questions right. Penalties for wrong answers is death. Perhaps opportunities for teamwork?

Kipo and the age of Wonderbeasts au

Might not make sense if you haven’t seen Kipo but Carmilla uses megamute dna to try and make humans able to live on the surface, but after getting kicked out of her burrow, she has to wander the surface, looking for humans desperate enough to accept her ‘help’. I already have a bulletfic for how each of them gets found and mutated

Steven Universe au

Mechanisms as the Off-Colors. Gems thst either rebelled against or were thrown out by the diamonds. They wander the galaxy, and sometimes assist gem rebellions. The moon war was fought over earth’s moon base, between the crystal gems and those loyal to the Diamonds.

Doctor who TMA au

Jon and Jonny were brothers on Gallifrey, and while Jon excelled in timelord school and became The Archivist, Jonny was distracted by paying off his father’s debts and failed, never to receive the title of “the Captain” or 12 regenerations. He didn’t stay mortal for long, as Carmilla found him like in cannon and mechanized both of his hearts. They stole a TARDIS called Aurora and fled to the stars. Many many years later, The Archivist finds his long lost brother when taking his companions, Martin, Tim, and Sasha to the Steamworld Intergalactic Music Festival

False domestic psychological prison

An enterprising young member of an intergalactic authority comes up with a new idea for these immortal criminals’ containment: the only prison the Mechanisms can’t escape is the one they don’t know they’re in. They capture the mechanisms and through a combination of the sedative effects of the Lotus, and some memory altering microchips, they get the Mechanisms to think they are just (mostly) normal people on a normal planet. To make them less likely to escape, they gave them something they never could have had before. Jonny gets respect as the owner of a tailor shop, with workers who call him sir, and trust and obey his judgement. Brian, as a priest is listened to in all his advice and praised for his wise moral decisions. Will they realize it’s a trick? Or stay living this lie forever?

Spaceteam fic

The Aurora gets stuck in a strange wormhole (bifrost?) and she can’t operate anything but basic piloting. Suddenly strange new controls are on the bridge, as well as whole other consoles of controls. Instructions for what to do are provided on screens, but they don’t match the control each mechanism sees on their console. Luckily they’re all within shouting distance, but they will have to learn to work together… as a spaceteam. Set Sigmaclapper to 5! Soak Ferrous Holospectrum! Baste the Emergency Whittler!

Summer Camp Councilors

Human au where the mechanisms are councilors at Camp Cosmo, with wacky hijinks, camp names, and songs. Several units of cabins inspired by the 4 story albums, a great spot on a canal with sea kayaking, regular kayaking, sailing, and canoeing. A high ropes and low ropes course, an archery range, and an arts and crafts area are also present for those who aren’t water crazy. Pack up your sense of adventure and extra flashlight batteries! Hopefully the campers won’t get into any drama…

Kofi rat from Small Saga meets Marius

This is for the KofiAssam fans out there! Our very own rat-tailed rover finds themself on a massive metal god dwelling and encounters The Metal Armed God!

Marius Von Raum finds a rat wearing clothing that seems to be able to play the mandolin. Good thing he learned to speak rat when he and Toy Soldier went to that candy planet where Toy Soldier somehow became a prince…

Steam Powered Giraffe roleswap

What if Doctor Carmilla lived on earth and created nine singing automatons that could self repair?

What if Colonel P. A. Walter mechanized 6 humans with blue matter to create a force of galactic heroes, that then forgot their original names?

1920s American speakeasy

Probably heavily based on Lackadaisy. Carmilla’s Speakeasy is a great place to get illegal alcohol, and its secret entrance is inside the Cafe Aurora. The owner, Carmilla herself is illusive at best, and her seeming to only show her face at night has lead to rumors of her being a vampire or witch. Rumors that are only worsened when she gave each of her employees a strange new gift: pins, that she insists are a new part of their uniform to be worn at all times. The purpose of the pins is made clear when Jonny is shot by a rival rumrunner while on a job and comes back from the dead.

SCP contains Brian and Toy Soldier

Brian was on MJE and Toy Soldier was under direct orders from a researcher to not escape. The only question is would Doctor Bright be an expert on immortality, or would letting him know about The Mechanisms be a terrible idea?

Marius backstory oneshot based on the christmas armistice

There are many things Byron Marius expected to hear in the middle of a war. The pound of bullets, the screams of other soldiers, and crash of giant robot mechas overhead. What he didn’t expect to hear was singing.

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht

That’s all, folks

I have way too many ideas.

#the mechanisms #poll #fandom polls #sparky’s polls #the mechanisms fanfic

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thesupreme316 · 1 year

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Could I request Eddie Kington and the reader as mixed matched a team?

Eddie Kingston as a tag team partner (Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader):

Genre: Crack

Summary: How I would imagine Eddie as your tag team partner

Word Count: 700

Supreme Speaks: OKAY IK IM LATE BUT BETTER THAN NEVER. thank you to @hookerforhook for being so patient and lovely (please lemme write more for you). I hope you and everyone else enjoys. ALSO, i hope everyone is doing well and remember you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: slightly proofread, an obscene amount of yall (sorry I'm just country and hood)

Taglist (if you wanna be a part of it, lemme know): @hookerforhook @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @sheinthatfandom @hooks-martin

You know that older brother who loves you but will bully you at every given chance?

Yep, that’s Eddie

He’ll protect you from your opponents, will drop a ref for you, will chew everyone and their mommas out

But is quick to spear you and give you a noogie

I feel like the way ya’lls team came to be wasn’t because he was soughing after a tag team partner (cause he’s Eddie Kingston and he’ll kick anyone's ass)

But it came to be when you helped even the odds with JAS and you actually didn’t mind fighting the dudes

At that moment, Eddie knew you were his partner

“Why Me?”

“Because you literally just kicked everyone’s ass…besides you’re the only other person in the back I like…besides Mox and Lulu of course.”

That’s right; out of all the enemies and allies he had in the back, he considered you an ally

HOWEVER, I still think he wouldn’t open up to you immediately but would gradually become more comfortable with you

At first, he would only talk to you for match purposes

And then he started hanging out with you a little bit before the show

And then he would text you “you good?” If he hasn’t heard from you (if you respond, he’ll say “great, btw fuck you”

Everything would change when he needed a place to crash cause all the hotel rooms were taken and you allowed him to crash with you

Although he left before you could wake up, he left you a note stating how he’s blessed that he has you as a friend

Now ya’ll at the point where ya’ll are inseparable

Where ever you go, he goes, and vice versa

Ya’ll in each other favorite contacts

Eddie would act like he genuinely doesn’t like you (in the eyes of others) but everyone knows he adores you

You two know each other like the back of your hands

Will tag you on Twitter posts that remind him of you, ya’lls friendship, or just things you need to see

Would say “EW” or “Gross” at you (if you're just walking by) or if you mess up in the ring he’ll laugh and say “you suck”

But heaven forbid someone else said that about you

Everyone can see how much you mean to him

Anyways you would do the same to and for him

You made it your goal to annoy the living shit out of him (and to make him scream and shake his fist at the sky)

But you were quick to shake someone if they irritate him

You played little pranks on him, stole his shirts (and threatened to burn them), made him cut promos on random items

“Now pretend he just lit your family on fire”

“Y/N, this is a toilet brush”

Now in the ring, your and Eddie’s styles complement each other

And you often came together to do tag team moves (especially the ones that Eddie learned from watching old Japanese tapes)

But if you were ready to get out the weapons, he was right behind you (either getting more weapons or just watching)

Essentially, you had crazy ideas and he just supported you in any way he could

Would not wear matching ring gear colors, but will match t-shirts with you (if you have tag team merchandise)

If not, ya’ll would wear each other’s designs

You two could pick up on the other’s next move without talking (you could expect/predict what he was gonna do and how you follow up or help)

Not gonna lie…Eddie would tag you in the match on the head/in the face

I can just see him lightly slap your head to signify a tag

If ya’ll won, then ya’ll were celebrating by doing chest bumps and getting food after the show

If ya’ll lost, Eddie would just berate everyone in sight (except for you)

Despite what he says, he would never talk down to you or degrade you (you’re his soft spot)

Would introduce you to Mox and form a trio if the situation called for it

Overall…Being Eddie Kingston’s tag team partner would be a rollercoaster, but one that would become your favorite rollercoaster

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston x reader #eddie kingston imagine #eddie kingston meme

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contemplatingoutlander · 1 year

Text

Contemplations on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, January 16, 2023

The coming Republican nightmare | Cartoon by Ann Telnaes

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream.

Sadly, what is currently happening the in U.S. isn't it.

Given the anti-CRT movement in red states, the rampant banning of books by Black and Brown authors across the U.S., the vitriol on the right regarding the BLM movement, the unrestrained right-wing zeal of the conservative justices on the Supreme Court who have been slowly dismantling the Voting Rights Act and who are now poised to ban affirmative action programs at universities, and the acceptance of blatant racist remarks by many of today's GOP politicians (most notably their leader Trump), Martin Luther King would probably think that what is currently happening in the U.S. is indeed a nightmare.

Finally, MLK would be livid if he knew that the GQP anti-CRT, covert white nationalist movement has been repeatedly misusing his "dream" quote:

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” --Martin Luther King Jr.

According to Melinda Guerra this quote has been:

Used: to defend the incredibly patronizing and trivializing thought that claiming to be colorblind is something laudable, rather than a way of discounting the fact that people of color have the privilege of being because we have to deal with the fact that our non-whiteness dictates parts of our experiences in ways those who talk about being will never understand. Also used to defend the idea of America being post-race, which would be laughable if its very falseness lead to so many awful things. Also used to suggest King would be against affirmative action, as if he hadn't been part of a group of leaders proposing an affirmative-action-like employment program (See #5 below).

Guerra goes on to suggest that we

Remind people: 1. This speech actually consists of more than the 2-3 sentences that get quoted. (Seriously, remind them of that. I'm almost convinced people don't know that.) 2. It is foolish and trivializing to claim you don't see color or suggest America is post-race, and flat-out wrong to suggest King wouldn't support affirmative action programs. 3. The march at which he delivered this speech was the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. As a result of that march, meetings with administration, and a ton of work done by other leaders in the Civil Rights Movement of the 60s, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Voting Rights act of 1965 were passed, with provisions reflecting the demands of that march. But, contrary to popular opinion, that didn't lead King to suggest we’d “arrived” and the civil rights movement should pack up and go home [...] 4. King’s speaking and activism stretched from before this speech to after it. This speech–and even the passage of important (but baby step) laws like the aforementioned Civil Rights Act and Voting Act–was not some final “end” to all he’d said. It was but one speech (and the lines people love to claim were but a few lines) in a long legacy of things he said, and his lifetime should not be reduced to a few nonthreatening lines white people like to remember. 5. King and others actually proposed something that sounds an awful lot like the affirmative action programs people use this quote to suggest he was opposed to. He supported a “massive program of economic aid, financed by the Federal Government, to improve the lot of the nation’s 20,000,000 Negroes.” Answering an interviewer’s question about whether it was fair to request a “multibillion-dollar program of preferential treatment for the Negro, or for any other minority group,” King responded as follows:

“I do indeed. Can any fair-minded citizen deny that the Negro has been deprived? Few people reflect that for two centuries the Negro was enslaved, and robbed of any wages—potential accrued wealth which would have been the legacy of his descendants. All of America’s wealth today could not adequately compensate its Negroes for his centuries of exploitation and humiliation. It is an economic fact that a program such as I propose would certainly cost far less than any computation of two centuries of unpaid wages plus accumulated interest. In any case, I do not intend that this program of economic aid should apply only to the Negro; it should benefit the disadvantaged of all races.”*

I’m sure you’ll see plenty of your own memes misquoting King this year. If you have the emotional energy (and I do understand if you don’t), consider using some of the above responses (or researching your own) and responding, instead of just scrolling past them.

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

_____________ * http://playboysfw.kinja.com/martin-luther-king-jr-part-2-of-a-candid-conversation-1502358645

#martin luther king jr day #mlk day #dream or nightmare #us racism #us politics #anti-crt movement #gop #republican house #melinda guerra #ann telnaes #the washington post #fourth & sycamore

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

Text

night changes // lance stroll

summary: an overview of moments in lance and y/n’s relationship

pairing: lance stroll x fem!reader

warnings: a brief mention of sex and pregnancy

authors note: literally my first time writing anything on here so for the love of god please be gentle 🤞🏼 positive feedback and reblogs would be appreciated.

—————————-

manchester, england. august 2022

the couple lay tangled in an embrace, tan comforter tangled around their bodies as they slept.

lance woke up first, a hazy smile on his face the half light. on the table next to him, his sliver wedding ring lay next to his airpods and their charger. across the room, the window was propped open against the summer heat, an IKEA crib settled against the wall underneath.

the aston martin driver smiled to himself as he remembered the drunken boys night with sebastian, esteban, alexander and checo where they had all tried to put the baby furniture together, the two drivers who actually had kids choosing not to help and instead watching the youngsters struggle over open bottles of guinness.

he turned his head away from the crib, looking over at the woman sleeping next to him, messy hair sprawled on the pillows and bags under her eyes from all the sleep she had lost from nights where their daughter simply would not stop crying. lance knew he didnt look any better, and lord knows seb reminded him of that every day.

but y/n stroll was the love of his life, and she looked perfect anyways.

—————————-

toronto, canada. june 2019

there were a few days to spare before the canadian grand prix in montreal and a couple of the drivers had decided to go to toronto to catch a jays game before the race. there were three hours until first pitch, and in an attempt to find a greek restaurant, the youngest of the drivers had gotten hopelessly lost.

“how the fuck are we lost!” lando norris was the first to complain, leaning shop window for one of the many marijuana dispensaries popping up in the toronto area. ”according to google maps, greektown is literally only two streets!”

“why the hell is it called greek ‘town’, then?” charles leclerc pitched in

“i have no idea.” pierre gasly groaned. “ask lance, he’s the one who grew up here.”

lance rolled his eyes. “i grew up in quebec, jackass. not ontario. i’m as lost as you are.”

“why don’t we just ask for directions?” charles asked, looking down at the map on his phone. “it’s not that hard.”

“yeah, lando, it’s not that hard.” pierre whined, hungry and annoyed. “we’ll miss the game at this rate. are you sure that we didn't just get off at the wrong subway stop or something?”

“jesus christ.” lance mumbled under his breath, heading up the street in an attempt just to find some peace and quiet.

for a formula one driver, lance isn’t always the most aware of his surroundings. mid you, she wasn’t either.

he was walking past an indie bookstore, just a few doors down from where the other young drivers were still arguing about the merits of asking for directions when lance crashed head on into the young woman leaving the bookstore. the paper bag she was holding ripped, sending four paperback mystery novels falling to the sidewalk.

“holy shit, i am so, so sorry.” lance gushed, kneeling down to help her pick up the books. “are you okay?”

she looked up, and lance was instantly taken in by her eyes. her magnificent eyes, like seas of color and emotion that he could get lost in.

“i’m okay.” her voice was like honey, the sweetest sound that the racing point driver could ever imagine.

“i’m sorry about your books.” he said as they both got back to their feet.

she shook her head. “it’s okay. no harm done.”

lance passed her the two books he was holding, as well as holding out his palm for a handshake before realizing that her hands were all full. “I’m lance.” he said awkwardly

she smiled, and it lit up her whole face. “y/n.”

at that point, lando, pierre and charles had stopped arguing with each other and were watching lance and y/n very closely, cheeky smiles on their faces as they watched the two exchange phone numbers and promise to keep in touch.

lance would talk to her almost every single day after that, and endless sea of chaotic text messages and facetime calls. after the third or so call, he came clean about being a race car driver with racing point f1.

y/n had laughed at him, and told him that he wasn’t european enough to be an f1 driver, and that he didn’t have a hot enough accent.

she meant it as a joke, but really, she didn’t believe he was telling the truth.

until he told her what team he was on, and she googled “lance, racing point f1″.

“i stand corrected, mr strulovitch.” she grinned on the other end of the facetime call. “so what fancy city are you in right now?”

he smiled before standing up and going to the hotel room window to show y/n the view. “baku, in azerbaijan.”

—————————-

monza, italy. 2020

y/n came to her first race in 2020, the strangest of all the seasons amidst the ongoing pandemic. lance told her that she didn’t have to, that he’d make a stopover in toronto next time he had a chance, but y/n was insistent. she needed a break from school, and had always wanted to go to italy anyways.

monza lacked the energy that most of the races usually had. because of the pandemic, the stands were empty, and the track was quiet. lance didn’t like it, the silence depressed him.

but he felt better because she was there.

he and checo were preparing for the race while the mechanics messed with the last few things on the car. y/n was with the engineers, and they were walking her through some of the more finer technical points of the sport.

lance was starstruck, wondering how on earth he was dating her, the most beautiful, brilliant and incredible human being on the planet. he stood next to his bright pink car, race suit hanging low around his hips, and just watched.

checo came up next to the boy, nudging him in the side. “so that’s why you’ve been in such a good mood lately. the neverending stream of facetime calls and text messages that make you giggle like a little girl.”

lance blushed, pale features turning pink. “shut up, man. i think i love her.”

y/n looked over at her boyfriend from the pit wall, a chunky pair of headphones on her head so that she could listen in to the race while she watched, a huge smile on her face as she flashed him a thumbs up

checo clapped him on the shoulders. “let’s give her a good race, kid.”

and a good race it was.

lance came in second, the entire racing point team rushing to the finish line to cheer him on as the chequered flag waved. y/n was glowing against the overcast sky as lance started his cool-down lap, nothing but pride in her chest as she watched the little pink car follow the leading alphatauri around the track another time, an orange mclaren not far behind.

as soon as lance got out of the car, he threw his helmet into the arms of a waiting mechanic and ran straight for y/n, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around, before kissing her madly as the team went wild, and there was no doubt in anybody’s mind that the skysports cameras that had been covering the victory for the two smaller teams were also covering the kiss.

after the two broke away from their magical moment for some air, lance pulled her close, draping his sweaty body over hers as he attempted to slow his breathing.

“i love you so fucking much.”

that night was the first time either of them had said it, returning to the hotel to spend every second of the italian night wrapped up in each other, clothes strewn over the backs of chairs, a bra hanging from the bathroom doorknob, sheets a tangled mess around them as she moaned his name, both of them truly in love with the other.

—————————-

manchester, england. fall of 2020

packing up her life and moving to manchester with lance should have been the hardest thing that y/n ever did. but it wasn’t. she had family there, family she had hardly even ever met. showing up to her uncle’s house in stockport in an aston martin with a formula one driver on her arm was certainly one way to make an impression on her extended family.

lance was in abu dhabi for most of the move, and his heart ached at the idea of not being able to share such an important milestone in their relationship at home, with y/n at his side. he took solace in knowing that abu dhabi was the last race of the season, and that he’d be home to his lover very soon.

y/n promised she would wait up for him. her uncle promised to pick lance up from the airport, an arrangement she wasn't sure she completely trusted, and she was nervous as hell about waiting for him to come home. she had watched every second of the race, and knew it wasn't one of lance’s better results. she wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in her arms and never let him go.

she was lying in bed when he came home, duvet pulled tight around her body as she lay on her side, e-reader plugged into the wall with a cord that wasn't long enough to make it to the bed. all of her books were still in boxes. very few boxes had been unpacked, just enough that lance wasn’t going to come home to an empty house.

the bedroom door creaked open, and lance slipped inside, overwhelmed with love when he saw y/n lying in bed, face scrunched up in that adorably sexy way she got whenever she read a book she was super into.

she was so engrossed in her book, that she didn’t even notice that he had come home. lance smiled to himself, slipping out of his jeans and sliding in between the cotton sheets to wrap his arms around y/n.

“hey, my love.”

she smiled as lance nuzzled his nose into her neck, giggling as he tried to slip a hand up the oversized concert shirt she’d worn to bed, his finger caressing the hemline of her underwear.

“hey, lance.” she awkwardly turned her head to give him a quick kiss before turning back to her book. “one more chapter, and then i’m yours.”

lance laughed, a hearty sound that y/n never got tired of hearing. “that’s what you always say. i bet we’ll both be asleep before then.”

“how domestic of us.”

he gently kissed her neck. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

—————————-

mykonos, greece. summer 2021

there were exactly five weeks in between silverstone and whatever the fuck came after, but lance didn’t care. as soon as silverstone was wrapped up, he grabbed y/n and the two of them ran like hell from the track, breaking more british traffic laws than they could count on the way to the airport.

once they were on the plane, lance turned off his phone. he didn’t want to hear anything from the team while he was in greece. nothing was going to spoil his vacation, because he was about to do something he couldn’t take back.

he was going to ask y/n to marry him.

right now, the girl in question was asleep against his shoulder, and all the aston martin driver could think about was how ungodly lucky he was to even have met y/n in the first place.

thank god that lando norris was so bad with directions.

it was their fifth day in mykonos before lance finally decided to make a move.

they were at the beach together: lance attempting to keep up with his fitness regime, lest his trainer get pissed off when he returned to england, and y/n was curled up on a beach towel with a hardcover book in hand.

after finishing his workout set, lance returned to the beach towel, sitting directly behind y/n and pulling her flush against his chest. he kissed her hair gently before asking her to put the book down.

“there’s something i want to show you.”

“can it wait until i finish the chapter?”

lance smiled, internally rolling his eyes. “how many pages are left in the chapter?”

she pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head, counting the pages left in that chapter before turning to her lover. “like eight? i only just started the chapter, babe.”

“then it can wait.” lance chuckled, pressing a bookmark in between the pages before shutting the hardcover an prying it from his girlfriend’s hand before helping her to her feet.

“lance, where are we even going?”

“just wait, you’ll see!”

they were at the edge of a cliff overlooking the whole island.

y/n smiled widely, looking over the edge of the cliff. “lance, this is bloody incredible.”

lance grinned, getting down on one knee, a crushed velvet box in his hand. y/n stared at him, clapping one hand over her mouth. “lance...”

“y/n y/l/n, will you do me the absolute honor of marrying me?”

“yes!”

it was a quiet wedding, exactly six months later, on the same greek island. his family, her family, and at their own bloody insistence, every driver on the grid. sebastian was lance’s best man, and nobody had ever seen the driver look that proud.

—————————-

manchester, england. march 2022.

since becoming y/n stroll, she had rarely ever missed a race, taking time off work more often than her bosses would have liked and working remotely from a hotel room.

so to miss lance’s season opener was a punch in the gut.

it was the day before they were due to leave for bahrain, and y/n had spent the entire morning throwing up. the smell of the candle in the couple’s living room made her nauseous, even though the citrus scent had never done that before. and she was tired all the time,

“sweetheart, i don’t love the idea of leaving you here.” lance’s voice was full of concern as he lay on the couch with his wife, their bodies a tangle of limbs as he cradled her body close, inhaling her hair.

“lance, i’ll be fine. there’s already a chance that sebastian is going to miss qualifying, i don’t want you to leave your team without both drivers.”

“promise me that you’ll call if you need anything?”

“i promise. i love you, lance.”

when lance came back home five days later, y/n already looked better. her skin was glowing, and she had a bright grin on her face as her husband stepped through the front doorway.

“welcome home, my love.” she cooed, wrapping her arms around lance’s neck before pressing up on her toes to give him a kiss. “I have a surprise for you.”

lance raised an eyebrow. “a surprise?”

“yes, silly. a surprise.” she took lances hand and lead him through the small house and up the stairs to the master bedroom. the only bedroom, since both spare rooms had been turned into other things: a simulator room for lance and home office/library for y/n.

when they got to the master bedroom, lance looked really confused. “it’s a box from IKEA.”

y/n smiled. “look a little closer, honey.”

lance knelt down next to the cardboard box to look at the drawing on the side while his wife slipped into the ensuite bathroom.

“babe, why do we have an IKEA crib?”

y/n came out of the ensuite bathroom, a stuffed elephant in her hands and a wide grin on her face as she passed lance the stuffed animal before reaching into the waistband of her jeans for the little plastic test. she pressed the test into lance’s hand, and his eyes went wide, a grin on his face.

“you’re pregnant?”

y/n nodded, unable to say anything before lance swept her into his arms, attacking her face with kisses.

“we’re going to be parents, y/n this is incredible!”

“i love you so much.”

—————————-

lance was snapped out of his reverie by movement in the bed next to him.

“do you always stare at me while i’m sleeping?” y/n’s voice was groggy, a stupid grin on her face as she attempted to snuggle closer to her husband, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“only if i wake up first.” lance smiled calmly, pulling y/n closer.

as lance was about to comment on how quiet and peaceful their house finally was, he could hear soft cries coming from the crib in the corner. when y/n moved to get up, he insisted that his wife lay back down.

“i’ve got it, my love. you carried her for nine months, this is the least that I can do.”

she smiled, squeezing his hand.

“i love you, lance stroll.”

#lance stroll #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #formula 1 #lance is a cutie who needs more love #lance stroll x y/n #aston martin f1 #yall are sleeping on my best canadian boy #formula one #lovelytsunodas one direction series

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