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thatdammchickennugget · 6 months

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Just My Type

pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader

tags - hockey player and figure skater au

warnings - none I think

wordcount - 1.1k

a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested

The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.

Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.

Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.

After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.

Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.

“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.

Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?

You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.

Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.

You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.

“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”

Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.

“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.

“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.

Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.

“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”

“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”

The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.

He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.

Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.

By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.

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evilminji · 8 months

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You know what I never see explored?

"Not on MY watch!" Superfan Dash Baxter. The young, limnal, quarterback built like a tank and willing to hit like one.

Because let's be real here. Imagine that scenario: Dash, heading to practice with his Bros. His best friends. The team. When? Oh shit! It's PHANTOM! Best day EVER right?

Except it's NOT.

Somethings wrong. He's not as graceful as he usually is. There is no clever comebacks. He looks beat up, man. What HAPPENED? Everyone looks confused when Dash looks around. But before he can call up to him?

Phantom is Shot Out Of The SKY.

Hits the football field HARD. The entire team is already running. Full sprint. It's those fucking GIW. Already driving onto the field and tearing it up. Jumping out, weapons primed.

Phantom's not... oh god, he's not getting up.

He looks hurt. Really hurt. Those bastards are closing in.

Dash's team? Has his back. They're also fans. Friends of his. Not a single one hesitates. They put their BACKS into it and welcome these sick fucks to Tackle Practice. With a follow up of "Taste Your Own Teeth". Amity special, coach would be proud.

But Dash... fuck, he can't wail on these guys AND protect Phantom at the same time. Kwan tells him to go. Throws him his keys. His car is least shit. Dash owes him SO many pizzas for this. First pick on movies for LIFE, man.

It hurts to leave his team behind. His best friend. But Dash has to GO. He can already hear the Fentons closing in. He grabs Phantom, his HERO, and runs for his life.

Barely manages to peel out of there in time. Floors it. Calls Paulina, obviously. She and Star are doing a spa day thing. She picks up because she KNOWS he wouldn't bother her if it wasn't serious. And-!

Oh...

Oh fuck.

In the rear view mirror. The Fentons and GIW just screeched onto the road behind him. Closing distance FAST. What does he do? Paulina he can't... he WON'T hand Phantom over!

And of course she understands. For God's sake, she in LOVE with the guy. He's never heard her sound so scared and furious. They'll get phantom over her twice dead body. She and Star are making some sort of noises, chanting, and...?

Giant Amazons with swords? GHOST Amazons. Suddenly in the road, jumping over his car to attack the cars behind him. Paulina what the FUCK?? She been talking to her Abuela, APPARENTLY. Who's friends aunt's "roomate" was particularly good at communicating with the dead. So OBVIOUSLY Paulina got her to send notes and studied them in secret.

Gotta be able to speak to you future husband's family in their native language. You win brownie points. Gives her a step up. "Not the point"? It's kind of a point! Giant warrior women! Who-?

Paulina made friends while practicing.

Of course she did. Why is he even REMOTELY surprised she chose the giant terrifying Amazons to be beasties with? He's know her for years. He should know better by now.

.....he feels small asking. Hates that his voice shakes. But... but what do they DO, 'Lina?

What he hates even more is the little shake in his childhood friends voice, even though she's trying to sound certain and strong. What they Do? What they DO is Dash drives his ass the her house, gets in her BETTER car, which she is going to load up, and they leave Amity.

She has LOADS of money. All sorts of jewelry. They're very last season. Frankly, she.. she can't WAIT to pawn them if they have too. They just have to drive. Get Phantom as far away from those freaks as possible. Get help.

And? It could go so many ways from there? Paulina LOVES Phantom. How will she reconcile that with her views on Fenton? How will Dash? Seperated from their roles as "the popular ones" and "the crazy people's son". Knowing that... that Danny likes her TOO.

But she's been AWFUL to him. She said so much. DID so much.

Do the even? LIKE each other? Or just the IDEA of each other? The person they made up in their heads.

They're afraid, tired, on the run. But free from school, the expectations of others, the baked in histories of a small town. Who ARE they as people? Do they like each other? COULD they?

I want to believe that Paulina really means it. That no one is at their best in middle and high school. They say and do stupid, mean, shallow shit. Because the world presses and presses and tells them it's all they are worth. Because they don't know who they ARE yet. Because she is a child. Not yet eighteen.

And Danny isn't perfect either. He saw a pretty, pretty face and got distracted by it. Didn't see how HARD she works. How smart she is. How ambitious and brilliant at reading people.

Are they trying to get to an Embassy? To Paulina's extended Family to the south, who would most certainly take them in, and would gladly fight gods for them? Or is this a crossover? Are they going towards other Heros? Older ones?

Is Paulina planning to pull a Lois Lane and Cause Problems On Purpose? Is Dash HAUNTED by "oh fuck, Wes was right." And now knows he's gonna have just... just WALK UP TO THEM. Broad ass daylight. Like "hello, I clearly know your secret identity! Please don't kill me!"?

Whatever the plan? Danny is in the back row of Paulina's once nice, now beat to hell car, bleeding irresistibly damaging acidic ecto-blood all over the seats. Wrapped up like a mummy. Texting Tucker.

The live tweets from Amity are... An Event. A Spectacle for the ages. His parents KNOW now, have speed run their grief STRAIGHT to RAGE, directed that rage at the GIW, and gone to WAR. Once a Fenton, always a Fenton. Jazz was right. "Anti-ghost" sentience testing once a week DID pay off.

Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely. But results don't lie. He clearly passed. Is clearly sentient, emotional, and their son. All in hard numbers they ran themselves. Will it stop them attack FULL ghosts? Jazz has no idea. But it sure did convince them to put the GIW in a hole and fill it with concrete.

Danny's getting reports of "you SHOT MY BABY!" Being shouted in public. Sam has decided to channel her frustration at being unable to help him into Full Goth Dramatic Shit Stirring. Non-waterproof mascara, disheveled hair. Clutching a picture of him. Dramatic howling and weeping in the arms of her parents.

Apparently now that he's presumed DEAD, the Mansons ALWAYS loved him. Like a SON to them. A sweet, innocent child. Their daughters friend! The GIW are monsters and child killers, they decry.

And the Red Huntress is... Oh, yikes. Yeah he should call her. Val is one more bad thing happening from her villian origin story. At least she... PROBABLY... has killed anyone yet. Note to self: when Danny can actually move torso again, buy Valerie soothing anti-stress...everything. All the things. She responds to stress by punching. Deliver from safe, non-punchable distance.

All in all? My Dash? Needs more Dash! Give the popular kids a chance to prove they aren't just cardboard cut outs! That they can grow beyond the roles high-school and society has pushed them into! Give them some trauma! Why only Danny? Spread the psychic damage!

@stealingyourbones @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp prompt #dash baxter

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dracoj · 4 days

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reasons why the love triangle in challengers serves cunt:

it’s a real triangle

the hate and love and lust volley between the three of them the whole time at dizzying speeds.

sexual tension is so insanely off the charts you can feel it in your mouth

zendaya

each of them is deeply jealous of the other two, in ways personal or professional or both. tashi had her career cut short before its prime. while patrick and art are still known as tennis players she will never be. art’s whole life is an exercise in repression and he knows he’ll never have that chaotic, prodigal spark that tashi and patrick share. patrick’s ex best friend and ex girlfriend got married and rich together while he’s sleeping in his car. they’re all longing for what the others have.

ZENDAYA

tennis as sex my beloved

in an early sceenplay, when art and tashi hook up for the first time, he can’t get hard until she coaches him while jerking him off. in the movie, patrick tells the story of how he taught art how to masturbate for the first time. haters will say you can’t have cinematic parallels between scenes that were never technically filmed but they haven’t watched the version of this movie in my head

did i mention zendaya is there?!?!

#j rambles #challengers #challengers spoilers #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig

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kiyoomi-levin · 4 months

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Morning Routine [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads.

He doesn’t even need an alarm now.

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper.

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still.

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them.

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient.

I should stop.

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you.

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him.

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief.

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly.

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all.

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you.

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate.

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning.

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today.

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin.

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body.

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago.

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down.

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always.

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good.

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off.

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer.

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results.

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off.

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?”

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately.

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning.

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms...

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you!

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy.

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway.

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared.

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university.

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right.

But he only wanted you.

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish.

Fine then.

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month.

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause.

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you.

Obviously none were taken by him!

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries.

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum.

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities.

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done.

He wants to finish with you so bad.

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters.

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price.

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough.

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!”

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs.

“Fuck!”

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop.

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going.

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you.

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours.

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know.

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him.

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent.

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you.

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon.

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a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu wakatoshi #hq wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

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princeloww · 4 months

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DAVID TENNANT ROLES STARTERPACK

(Different roles, where to find them and what they're like!!!) (+ more that I didn't go into included at the end)

*disclaimer: this is sort of UK orientated, 'cos I don't know any American streaming services or where stuff is available in other countries, so PLEASE comment other places you can watch things!!!!

- Takin' Over the Asylum (CAMPBELL BAIN)

Follows a DJ and a group of patients trying to keep a radio station going in a mental hospital. David plays one of the main characters, Campbell Bain, a mostly upbeat and energetic young boy with lots of enthusiasm and spirit. Some angst!

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Blackpool (PETER CARLISLE)

A body is found in an arcade run by Ripley Holden, and him and his entire family are pulled into the murder investigation surrounding it. DI Peter Carlisle is working on the case, and highly suspicious of Ripley. He's a pretty major character and has a romantic plot - as well as a few funny musical numbers. Includes sex scenes.

☆ UKTV PLAY (free in UK), AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

- Casanova (GIACOMO CASANOVA)

The (mostly sexual) adventures of Giacomo Casanova, a charming and fraudulent man who falls in love very quickly and very dramatically with a lot of people, all while essentially bullshitting through life and jumping on every opportunity to make money. Includes sex scenes but also angst, such as illness, injuries, some violence, and general suffering.

☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free), AMAZON

- Recovery (ALAN HAMILTON)

A man and his family coping with the recovery and rehabilitation process after he (Alan, David Tennant) suffers from brain damage. Angsty. Lots of crying, suicide references, head injury stuff.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (BARTY CROUCH JR)

I recommend pirating this one so you're not supporting JK Rowling. DT plays Barty Crouch JR, an antagonist and the son of Barty Crouch. He's kind of a minor character, as he's not actually in a lot of scenes.

☆ Probably on most pirating sites (my go to is MYFLIXERX.TO)

- Learners (CHRISTOPHER ??)

Lighthearted movie about a woman trying to pass her driving test. David plays Chris, her driving instructor. He's a bit of a dork, very sweet and kind. Has a love plot, briefly fights a guy. No major angst.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Hamlet (HAMLET)

Hamlet. Prince of Denmark wants vengeance after his father's death. I haven't actually watched this one yet but I assume it's got the same amount of angst and drama as Hamlet typically does.

☆ AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

- Single Father (DAVE TYLER)

After a fatal car accident, Dave Tyler (DT) is left to parent four children on his own. Still struggling through grief, Dave falls in love again and attempts to hide it. Has LOTS of crying, lots of kissing, sex scenes, DT being miserable and sobbing, etc.

☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free)

- Rex Is Not Your Lawyer (REX ALEXANDER)

Unaired pilot. Only 40 minutes. Show wasn't picked up, but it is very good. Rex is a successful and skilled lawyer who is forced to stop practising when he starts having panic attacks every time he speaks in court. He decides instead to coach people who want to represent themselves. Lots of DT in very tight suits. American accent. Not MAJOR angst but he does has daddy issues and a panic disorder, so.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Fright Night (PETER VINCENT)

A kid discovers that his neighbour is a vampire, and he seeks out a famous vampire slayer to help him. Peter Vincent (DT) does not live up to his name, and turns out to actually be sort of pathetic. No major angst, not a lot of clothes, no romance, but lots of eyeliner. He's very bisexual. Violence, vampire horror, creepy neighbour.

☆ DISNEY+, AMAZON PRIME

- The Decoy Bride (JAMES ARBER)

Celebrity Lara Tyler tries to get married to her author fiancé James Arber, but the paparazzi interrupts the wedding. Desperate to keep it private, she takes James to the island that he based his book on. Somehow, the paparazzi still find them, and they hire a decoy bride to pretend to be Lara. Romance, kissing, light hearted, minimal angst. David in a funny outfit. Fake dating trope?

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger (Donald and Roderick Peterson)

Sequel to Nativity, but you don't need to watch the first one. Primary school teacher Donald Peterson (DT) is forced to take his class to Wales to participate in A Song For Christmas, a festive singing competition. Here he is put against his twin brother, who is a successful composer and with whom he has a strained relationship. Light angst - lots of daddy issues, but generally sweet.

☆ AMAZON, I think its on NOW TV???

- The Escape Artist (WILL BURTON)

A defence lawyer, Will Burton, gets a murderer off free, and very quickly grows to regret it, when his client comes after his family next. Lots of murder. Like three murders I think. Hot lawyer DT.

☆ AMAZON (I can't believe I forgot this one)

- What We Did On Our Holiday (DOUG MCLEOD)

A family go to Scotland for their grandfather's 70th birthday. Doug (DT) and his wife (Rosamund Pike) are getting a divorce, but are hiding it from the rest of the family. Movie is mostly focused on the kids and their grandad, but David has a few moments, and he's generally present throughout. Funny, slightly shocking at times, family film. No major angst. Character death.

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Richard II (RICHARD II)

Shakespeare's Richard II. David plays the titular character, the extravagant, heartless and cold King of England, Richard II. We see his fall from grace as he is stripped of everything he owns and knows. Quite angsty. Long hair, androgynous David. Queer kiss scene (although they are cousins, soo...)

☆ you can find a link in a REDDIT comment if you search for it, AMAZON PRIME

- Broadchurch (ALEC HARDY)

An eleven-year-old boy is murdered in a small town, sending shock-waves through the community. Story follows both the family and communities response to the crime, as well as the investigation done by DI Alec Hardy (DT) and DS Ellie Miller (Olivia Coleman). Lots of angst from Alec. He is sick and hiding it. Injury, dizziness, panic attacks, that sort of thing - as well as a heart attack. He has a lot of trauma and daddy issues. Season three touches on topics of rape (warning).

- Mad To Be Normal (RD LIANG)

Biopic about RD Liang, a Scottish psychiatrist. Sex, misogyny, mental health topics, some self-harm (done by another character)

☆ AMAZON (sensing a pattern)

- Good Omens (CROWLEY)

An angel (Michael Sheen) and a demon work together to stop the end of the world. Queer romance (canon), some angst. Drama, comedy, LGBTQ+. David plays Crowley, the demon (who "sauntered vaguely downwards" rather than fell from heaven)

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Staged (DAVID TENNANT)

A COVID lockdown comedy about David Tennant and Michael Sheen talking via Zoom during the lockdown. Actually quite sad at times? Mostly silly, though. Features Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)

- Around The World in 80 Days (PHILEAS FOGG)

Phileas Fogg, a quiet and reserved man, decides to travel around the world in 80 days, after he receives an anonymous postcard calling him a coward. Cute found family, drama, angst (ex-lover stuff, internalised cowardice, illness, near death experience), some violence. There's a scene where Phileas gets flogged (whipped, essentially) quite violently, and it's somewhat graphic. Touches on themes of racism. Phileas is 100% neurodivergent.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)

- Inside Man (HARRY WATLING)

DT plays a vicar, Harry, who is involved in a murder after trying to protect his son - who was accused of having CP. Suicide themes, murder, self-harm - explores the idea that any person can murder, if they're pushed the right way. Includes topics to do with CP and pedophilia.

☆ NETFLIX, AMAZON

- Litvinenko (LITVINENKO)

Biopic about Alexander Litvinenko. A group of detectives investigate the poisoning of Litvinenko. David is bald in this show. (Scary)

☆ ITVX (UK) (or VPN)

- Doctor who (10TH AND 14TH DOCTORS)

Do I need to explain Doctor Who???? David Tennant plays the tenth and fourteenth regenerations of The Doctor, a Time Lord from outerspace. He travels around in the TARDIS with human companions.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK)

I think I'm gonna leave it there, but there are a LOT that I have not touched on. This post is a very accurate and long list of everything on DT's filmography, so i recommend you check that out.

Other things I didn't mention (off the top of my head):

There She Goes, Bad Samaritan, Einstein and Eddington, Rab. C Nesbitt, Bright Young Things, LA Without a Map, Much Ado About Nothing, Duck Patrol, True Love, Gracepoint, Camping (US), Nan's Christmas Carol, Mary Queen of Scots, (You, Me and Him), Secret Smile, Deadwater Fell, Jessica Jones, Dramarama, Spies of Warsaw, AND A LOT MORE. (+ voice acting roles, and also his narrating work on Spy In The Wild (2017)

#david tennant #good omens #takin over the asylum #campbell bain #broadchurch #takin' over the asylum #alec hardy #crowley #taking over the asylum #david tennant roles #casanova #phileas fogg #im not tagging them all #tennantverse #david tennantverse #david tennant fandoms #YES i left out a lot of very popular ones #dont come at me #this was just the ones i wanted to write about

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worldwide-blackfolk · 8 months

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#colorado buffaloes #coach prime time #told you so #tcu horned frogs #college football #pac12 #ncaaf #ncaa football #upset #we coming

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

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Idea for a little angst. Leona has a nightmare about his s/o (fem or gn preferably) becoming an unfortunate victim to King’s Roar’s effect. Maybe having flashbacks to when he overblotted in a sense? Up to you!

Ohhhhhhh this is a PRIME angst prompt, thank you very much for this incredibly ouchie idea.

GN!Reader, ANGST, comfort

"Herbivore?"

In the center of Night Raven College's Spelldrive stadium, Leona stood alone. There was no grass beneath his feet crosshatched with play lines and goal marks, just cracked, dry soil. There were no cheers in the stands, no holler of food vendors or trumpet of pep bands, just a blistering, eerie silence. As the wind whistled through the empty field, little spirals of sand danced upon the breeze to land near his feet.

"Howl? Felmier?... Ruggie?"

No response.

He trod carefully across the arid dirt, moving towards the entrance of the field. Surely there he would find someone waiting, Ruggie or another Savanaclaw student or you, you had to be here somewhere. He was not afraid. he was not.

But dipping through the doorway and peering into one of the locker rooms revealed an equally eerie sight. No students, no coaches. Just heaps of dry, yellow sand. The alternate team's locker room revealed the same sight. So did the hallway out into the stadium entry, the vendor booths that lined the cobblestone path, the winding road leading back up to the school proper.

But along that road, facing away from him, finally he saw you.

"Herbivore!"

"...Why?"

Despite your distance, he could hear you perfectly. He tried to move towards you but it felt like her were wading through tar, each step a herculean effort. He tried to call for you again but found his voice dry and lifeless in his throat.

"I didn't ask to be here. I didn't know this would happen. But still... I just wanted to help. Why wouldn't you let me help?"

He was moving forward, he knew he was, so why did it seem like you were just as far away?

"This isn't even my home, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Is that so wrong? Why do you hate me so much?"

'I don't. I don't hate you. I never have, not really.' He tried to say, but the only noise he could make was a single choked rasp.

"Why would you do this to me? I just wanted to help."

He blinked. That's all he did, just a single blink. But suddenly he was upon you, crowding your space, a single clawed hand wrapped effortlessly around your neck. You didn't thrash, didn't scream, didn't make any attempt to pull away. Leona couldn't move either, frozen in time, watching in horror as the delicate skin around your neck began to flake and chip and dissolve to powdery sand. The tears in the corners of your eyes turned to dust before they could even roll down your cheeks.

"I JUST WANTED TO HELP!"

Leona jolted awake to blackness, the dull tick of an alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. He was coated in sweat, panting, throat dry and hoarse. He felt along the left side of his bed, palms thumping frantically over the blanket-clad shape sharing his space. The only one he'd allow to share his space.

"Hrrmph?- Ow, ow! Shit, Leona! You scared the hell out of me!" You grumbled, wrestling blindly out of your blanket to try and protect yourself from his swatting hands. You were here. Thank the seven, you were here. You were here, beside him, and he hadn't destroyed you. He hadn't ruined the one good thing that life had given him, not yet.

He hadn't, but he almost did. He almost did, some time ago.

The air was forced out of your body in a rushed whoof! as Leona bowled into you, draping himself entirely over your still sleep-addled form. Before you could protest or even question what was happening you felt the rasp of his sandy tongue against your temple, peppered kisses in between soothing licks. Was he... Grooming you? Leona never groomed you. He rarely even let himself be groomed by his own family. And yet here he was, pressing himself into you like he was afraid you were going to vanish from beneath his grasp.

"Herbivore... kitten..." He mumbled in between kisses, reverent, relieved. you let a hand come up to rest on his cheek and he stifled a sound that you could have sworn was a tiny sob.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here big cat. I'm not going anywhere. What's all this about?" You ran your thumb blindly back and forth over the curve of his cheekbone, and he melted weakly into the touch.

"...Right, right. You're not. Never go anywhere. I won't let you, not without me." Slowly the two of you sank back into the warmth of your shared mattress, Leona pressed against you like a second skin. "You're stuck with me now, aren't ya? Don't even think of... Of goin' anywhere."

As his words began to drift into exhausted mumbles you pressed yourself as close as you could into his warm side, letting him wrap an arm over your body and pull you into his embrace. You murmured a soft placation into his chest, hoping that whatever brought on this sudden influx of emotion out of your partner, it would be enough to soothe it.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar imagines #leona kingscholar angst #my writing #angst #comfort #anon

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hanasnx · 2 months

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branding.

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: jet is aged up if that wasn't already obvious | credit to @xstarkillerx for helping develop this idea as well as giving me the branding with his hook specifically idea WARNINGS: branding | consensual burning and temperature play | less about suggestive and sexual content and more about psychological exploration.

JET has a branding kink. The brain has a funny way of twisting trauma into pleasure, rewiring neural pathways to take control of horrible circumstances and painful memories. Jet’s past with the fire nation and losing everything he knew in one fell swoop meant his mind was forever scarred by fire and what it’s capable of. It bleeds into his sex life whether he's aware of its connection or not.

You lay pliant on his bed of furs, naked and waiting as his large hand strokes down your back, the calluses of his fingertips dragging across and catching on your skin. You prickle with anticipation as he takes his sweet time priming you, his expression especially grim as he takes in the sights of your smooth flesh. It dips when he applies pressure, and bounces back when he eases. Supple and young, as curvaceous as a shapely hillside, virgin skin that you offer up to him.

In the firelight you've never looked more beautiful. Ethereal and quiet, obeying his desires and using your precious body to do it. Guilt creeps up from below his stomach, his sacral chakra clouded by what he's about to do to you. He doesn't care, hovering his right-handed hook into the hearth. The fire licks at the end, encompassing it with its warmth, and its every brushstroke paints the metal gold.

His nails dig into you, scraping down to groove temporary marks, and your whimper quirks his brow. "Can you handle it this time?" he asks, his voice low and kind.

"Mhm." you insist with a nod, your head resting on your piled arms. "Promise, chief, I can handle it." He drags his bottom lip through his teeth

The weight of the metal weighs his arm as he swings it over. The sheer heat radiates off it, as if a little heartbeat pulses the air around it, sunning your back as it nears. "I'm gonna hold you down." he warns, preparing you for his grip on the base of your neck, pinning you to the furs as the air gets hotter and hotter. "Breathe." You do as he says, sucking in a breath until the hook kisses your shoulder blade in a searing hot pain. Squeezing your eyes shut, a squeal is ripped from your throat, crying out over the unimaginable pain. Jet faithfully holds you down, stamping that brand on you for seconds but it felt much longer to you. Tears well and spill just as quickly as they came, your toes curl and flex, anything to release some energy. "Almost... almost, my love, be strong." he coaches you, but it does nothing to quell your expected reaction. Seconds feels like minutes and he releases you, dropping the hook into a bucket of water that splashes over the edge.

Much like the air from before, that little heartbeat has transferred to your shoulder blade, pulsing the pain throughout your body as the heat is trapped inside you. As you cry and writhe, Jet does what he knows to soothe you, running assuaging palms up and down the rest of your body, sensationalizing you with pleasant tingles while you fight your own wound to touch it. Every time you get close, your fingertips brushing the brand, your flinch, causing yourself more pain even though you're trying to comfort it with soft pressure.

Sobs wrack through you, and Jet marvels you proudly. "Now you're a real Freedom Fighter, forever." The shape of his hook gracing your once-virgin skin, and he eyes it hungrily. That burn in his chest is satiated for a little bit longer, until the next time.

#indy: drabbles #ch: jet #jet drabble #jet x reader #jet x fem reader #jet x you #jet x y/n #jet imagine #jet fic #jet fanfic #jet fanfiction #atla jet #jet atla #atla x reader #atla x you #atla imagine #atla fic #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction

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thederricklamonexperience · 1 year

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youtube

Congrats to my idol I’m so very proud of what he accomplished and what is on the horizon for him at the University of Colorado!

#coach prime #deion sanders #prime time #neon deion #colorado buffaloes #pac 12

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cobaltperun · 4 months

Text

Lost (10) - Blood // Water

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-The price of your greed is your son and your daughter. What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?-

You weren't at your best. You were far from it, really. Sure, the wounds healed, but the recovery and getting your strength and stamina back was another story. Soaked from head to toe in sweat from hours of working out, driven only by adrenaline and anger you cursed yourself for getting closer and closer to your limit.

Frustration, however, helped, as you slammed punch after punch into the bag. The sound of the hits echoed in the empty gym, since it's long been past the closing time. The owner knew your coach and it helped that your success brought some new people to his gym, so he let you use the equipment after hours.

You needed that. You were angry. At yourself for not stopping Tara. At Tara for putting you in that position when she asked you to leave. At Amber for starting all of this in the first place. Punch after punch you hoped the next one would finally set you free from the anger. Yet with every punch you would be reminded of the recently healed injuries and that only made you more furious. You gritted your teeth as the cycle continued until you heard the doors opening.

"Y/N," you didn't stop pummeling the bag, it was just your coach. He faked a cough and you let out an exasperated sigh, finally turning to look at him, only to see a face you vaguely recognized.

"Hello, miss L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," the man next to your coach was Thomas Laurent, a former middleweight MMA fighter who had a promising start in his career, but then got seriously injured in his fight against Zack. He never truly recovered after that. Nowadays whenever someone mentions his name all they say is he had potential, but that the injury ended his career before he could reach his prime. From the looks of it, he kept training, and with no weight class to hold him to a certain weight you figured he was somewhere between light heavyweight and heavyweight now. He was thirty-seven and you were sure he could still give plenty of fighters a run for their money.

"What? You want to swap retirement stories?" you really had no desire to deal with him, or anyone else right now.

Your coach flinched for a moment, but Thomas merely laughed, it was a loud, hearty laugh and despite your mood, you wiped the scoff off your face and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, now a bit curious about his reasons for coming here.

"No, no, I'm here to make the greatest retirement spectacle women's MMA has ever seen," he boasted with confidence that made you genuinely intrigued.

"Is that so? And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?" you were pulling your gloves off, only now seeing how bloody your knuckles got. Both Thomas and your coach noticed that, seeing as their eyes widened when they saw the state of your hands. "Long day yesterday, I had a lot of pent-up frustration," you explained, not really bothered by scrapped knuckles. The tiny scars you had accumulated from training had long since stopped bothering you.

"You have two fights, so let's make history. You'll fight at the end of November against one of the previous title challengers and then, on the ninth of December, if you accept, you'll challenge Anya Golubeva," Thomas didn't need to explain any further.

Anya Golubeva has been the women's featherweight champion for the past five years, with good grappling and explosive punches, she hardly left any openings. In addition to that you would fight someone around her skill level two to three weeks before that fight. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to make history. You'd have one of the shortest, if not the shortest, breaks between two fights, and in case you won the second fight you'd retire as the world champion.

You didn't ask how he could make it happen. You didn't need to know. You knew just one thing, that would be an issue. You couldn't prepare for those fights in Woodsboro. No sparring partner, the gym that lacked equipment... You'd have to leave as soon as tomorrow.

If Tara hadn't told you to leave her, you would have gone to see her, to talk with her. But she told you to leave, and as much as you loved her, you weren't about to waste this opportunity. You’ll see Tara in two months. "I'm in."

~X~

Being in, however, meant calling Sam to handle your absence. So, that's how the two of you were sitting in Woodsbo-Restaurant. She looked tense, though you couldn't see any anger, at least on the surface.

"So, did Tara tell you what happened?" you guessed she probably did, it's been over forty-eight hours since Tara left your apartment, and you haven't seen her since. That alone would have been enough for anyone who knew you and Tara to figure out something happened. You were actually surprised Mindy didn’t text you to fix things.

Sam sighed, but instead of answering she added sugar to her coffee and began stirring it. Honestly, you were growing impatient. "About retirement, or how she asked you to leave her?" she finally spoke up, her eyes staring into your soul.

You slumped into your seat, consumed by the look on her face when she asked that of you. Sam was disappointed, worried, she wasn’t angry, but you could tell she absolutely wasn’t happy with either you or Tara. "Both, I guess. Not that it matters. I'm leaving Woodsboro, I won't be here for two months," you told her and placed a key to your apartment on the table.

"You're leaving? You'll actually listen to Tara?" Sam got up, pressing her palms against the table and leaning over it toward you. There was anger in her eyes now and most people would have backed away, intimidated by Sam.

"Yes, but not because of what Tara said. I'll have two of the biggest fights of my life by the end of those two months and I'm not about to fuck it up," you didn't even budge when Sam got up. You slid the key across the table and met Sam's angry glare. "Tara is free to spend as much time in my apartment as she wants. She can sleep there, move in, whatever she wants. You can work here since there's about to be an open spot starting today," you had no intention of stopping, you needed Sam to hear you out.

You straightened your posture as Sam began sitting down. "Tara and I grew too codependent, Sam. We grew too attached to guilt. If it spirals out of control she'll stay by my side because she feels guilty for my retirement and I'll stay because I'll feel guilty for not being there to protect her the first time, for letting Amber make her vulnerable and not noticing she was a danger to Tara. Love built on guilt isn't love, it's just regret," you stood up, leaving enough money to pay the bill, and began walking away. You didn't have any time left. Your coach was already waiting for you outside the restaurant.

"Y/N, I'm sorry I dragged Tara into all of that," Sam's declaration didn't surprise you, she felt even more guilty than Tara did.

"It's not your fault those two were crazy," you stopped and turned to look at her.

Sam shook her head, surprising you for a moment. "It is. Billy Loomis is my father, and that's why all of that happened."

It was actually the first time you heard Sam and Tara were half-sisters. Not that it mattered. "It's not, Sam. Who your parents are has nothing to do with it. It's an insane excuse made by insane people," you shrugged and offered her a smile. "So, how about this? Instead of being Billy and Christina's daughter, how about you just remain Tara's sister?"

The last thing you expected was for Sam to grab and pull you into a hug. Whispering a small, emotion filled 'Thank you' as you patted her on the back. You had no idea when Sam found out about Billy, but things somehow began making sense. Why Sam left, why she was distancing herself from Tara when they were younger, maybe even why Tara’s dad left. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that at least some of it was connected to Billy Loomis.

“Take care of Tara,” you requested, though you understood there was no need to ask for that.

~X~

You left, you actually left and Tara couldn’t reach you, you weren’t answering your phone. It’s been three weeks since she last set foot in your apartment, she didn’t want to make Sam do more than she was already doing for her. And she missed your presence more than ever. Was this how you felt when Tara was with Amber? Alone? Lost? Tara guessed you did.

Her leg was finally healed, and she could walk once again, though she was yet to recover her strength. It would take some time and going up the stairs all the way to the third floor to your apartment exhausted her more than she predicted it would. She unlocked your doors and was met with a familiar scent, her anxiety lowering almost instantly as she was reminded of you. The place was almost exactly the same as when she left, only this time your bag was missing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, feeling like she had to say it as she locked the doors behind her. She moved on autopilot, going to your bed and lying down. She shouldn’t have told you to leave her, and sure, she understood you would have left anyway to prepare for your fights, but she still shouldn’t have told you to leave her. She should have been there to see you off, she should have been the one you gave your spare key to, she should have hugged you and told you to be careful, she should have told you she loved you, or she should have thanked you or at least that she would miss you.

Anything would have been better than telling you to leave her.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed your phone on the nightstand drawer, left there, likely on purpose. Her eyes widened and she sat up to take it, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Her cheeks turned red when she noticed the photo of you and her, hugging, as your lock screen, but she couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know, you rarely used your phone while you were with her.

~X~

Six weeks, six days, and thirteen hours. That was the last time Tara saw you, heard your voice, touched you, spoke to you. That was when she told you to leave her. So much has changed. In the few weeks since she went to your apartment and found your phone. She cut contact with her mom and moved into your apartment because she couldn't take it anymore and just needed a semblance of you in her life.

And seeing as you left your phone behind no one could reach you, not her, not Susan, no one. So, that's how she ended up in Sacramento with Sam, Mindy, and Chad, waiting for your second-to-last fight.

“Who is she fighting anyway?” she found herself asking, almost a bit excited to watch the fight, if only so she could see you.

“Uh, not sure, but her opponent fought for the title before and lost in a fairly even fight, there wasn’t even a knockout,” Chad told her. Ever since you began fighting Chad was her source of information.

You opponent fought for the title before? So, she was close in strength to the world champion? Tara remembered how you came back after your first fight and she couldn't do it, she couldn’t watch the fight. You probably still haven't fully recovered from what Amber and Richie did to you, what Amber forced Tara to do to you. So, she'd miss the start, maybe even miss the entire first round or two, because she couldn't take watching you get hurt.

“Tara?” Sam question as Tara stood up.

“I need a moment, don’t worry,” Tara assured her softly and went toward the kitchen.

“Tara, uh, can’t exactly watch Y/N’s fights. Because Y/N gets hurt,” she heard Chad explaining and Sam’s small ‘Oh,’ at that.

She entered the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She felt cold, she missed you, she wanted to be near you, to grab onto you and not let go. Instead, all she could do was clutch the necklace you gave her, all she could do was hold onto it as she hugged herself. A sob tore through her throat, but she stopped herself when she heard the doors opening.

"Tara, honey, it's about to start," Susan came in. The woman became Tara's ally since you left, offering reassurance and convincing Tara you'd come back. Somehow, her words held more weight than anyone else's when it came to you, and Tara somewhat believed her.

"I don't think I can," Tara admitted, ashamed that she couldn't watch you even now that she knew how much it meant to Susan and you. That she couldn't watch you even if it was her fault that ten days from now, you'd be out of MMA.

Susan gently rubbed Tara's left shoulder. "I get it, how about we just sit here then. I'll go and turn the volume up so we can hear what is happening. Is that okay?"

Tara nodded and sat down. She watched as Susan turned to go and get the volume up, only to freeze on the doorstep. "It's over."

Tara felt her blood run cold. Over? What was over? The fight? She ran outside of the kitchen and took in the sight in front of her. Chad sitting there with his mouth wide open. Mindy was frozen as she leaned over to Sam to grab the popcorn. Sam just watching the TV wide-eyed and confused. And you on the TV, without a single scratch, just standing with one fist raised in the air.

She watched as the fight replayed on the TV, right from the start. Your opponent approached, and opened with a punch, only for you to counter with a punch straight to her face and she just dropped. Six seconds into the fight. You knocked the woman out in six seconds.

She just stood there, taking your figure in. Her heart beat out of rhythm as she saw the results of your training, the defined muscles, the power and speed you possessed. Tara had never spent this long away from you, even when she was with Amber you two still hung out as a part of the same friend group, and seeing you like this, so abruptly and so briefly made her realize exactly how much that affected her.

"How's the ogling going, T," Mindy's teasing made her look away. She wasn't ogling, she was just looking.

Less than two weeks to go. You'd come back to her soon.

When the title match came Tara watched with Sam, Chad and Mindy in your apartment and she nearly had an asthma attack as she watched you take hit after hit.

~X~

This was the end, in half an hour you'd step into the octagon and have your final professional fight. Yet you never felt more relaxed than you were tonight.

The doors opened and you expected to see your coach. Instead, you saw Anya Golubeva, a blonde Russian with piercing blue eyes. You met recently but between promotions that required some hostility, you didn't have any other interactions with her.

"Hello, Y/N," her accent was thick, and you stood up as she approached you. She was 5 foot 8, almost an inch and a half shorter than you, but considering her skill and strength it felt like there was no difference at all.

"Anya," you nodded to greet her, the two of you already met, and you did the usual trash talking that was supposed to hype people up for the fight, honestly, to you it was just part of the business, and from the looks of it she saw it the same way. No matter who won or what either of you would say in an interview after the fight, there wouldn’t be bad blood between you. At least you hoped that would be the case.

"I just wanted to say I am sorry this is how your career ends," the sentiment surprised you. "I wish I could have fought you at your peak, in a few years," despite being fine with the retirement that was somewhat of a regret. You'd never reach your professional peak, you were only twenty, most MMA fighters reached their peak sometime between twenty-five and twenty-eight years old. You could train, sure, but you doubted you'd reach the same heights you would've if your career continued.

Anya, however, was at her peak, in fact, most experts predicted she would wipe the floor with you prior to your previous match. Now that you knocked your opponent out in six seconds the predictions were different, and some even dared to bet on you.

You sat down, grinning a bit. "I guess that's right. I don't regret it, though."

"You were protecting a friend. Admirable, really," Anya nodded her approval.

"More than a friend, at least as far as feelings go," you blurted out, not really sure why you felt the need to say it. You just missed Tara so damn much.

Anya chuckled a bit and motioned to the bench next to you.

"Of course," at your words, she sat down and leaned her back against the wall.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"Tara," you replied, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Anya remained silent for a moment. "There's a river in the Balkans called Tara. In a small country called Montenegro. Its canyon is the deepest in Europe, so if you ever go there, make sure you take your girl rafting through it. I personally found it to be more exciting than most things I did in my life."

You had no idea there was a river called Tara, but you really wanted to see it now, and you wanted to take Tara with you. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

"Make sure you do, it really is an experience," she got up. "Well then, good luck," she offered you a hand.

You took her hand and nodded. "Good luck to you too."

Her behavior took you by surprise, there definitely weren't many fighters who were openly like this. Still, there would be no holding back. You had a fight and you were going to do everything in your power to win.

~X~

She was strong. You had never encountered a fighter that could match you like this. You traded blows, and you barely got out of her submissions. You couldn't make her submit. In the four minutes since the fight started, you managed to get her on the ground once, and she easily got out. You on the other hand found yourself on the ground for the second time, with your neck in a chokehold as she pressed down on your abdomen and kept your legs immobile by holding them between her own.

In an almost desperate attempt not to lose in the first round, you managed to move your fist back enough to land a fairly strong blow to her side. Her grip on you loosened with a grunt coming above you. So, you hit her again, and then the third time before she finally let go enough for you to get your legs free and twist the position. She pushed against your abdomen with her legs, but you landed a solid right punch to her face. You raised your fist again, but just as you were about to hit her again the round ended, and you got up.

You gave one another a quick fist-bump, enjoying the way this fight was going as you separated. There was no malice in this fight. It was just a competition.

The second round started off much better. You circled each other, throwing faints, and testing the distance for a bit. You landed a low kick to her left leg, she in turn grazed your head. You exchanged a couple of punches, pulling away from one another with nearly simultaneous clean hits to the faces. You could feel blood dripping from your nose and your lower lip, you could feel the area around your left eye starting to swell. She wasn't doing much better, though. You landed an elbow on the side of her head, grazing her forehead in the process. From the looks of it, you also made a small cut on the side of her nose.

Both of you were bloody, both of you had taken several hard hits. Anya went in for a kick, but you pushed her back, landing a couple of good blows to her upper body. It wasn't enough. She quickly recovered, bouncing away from your assault. She hit you in the side with a nasty uppercut and you felt wind getting knocked out of your lungs, but you managed to block Anya's follow-up attack.

The following exchange ended in your favor when you landed three good blows to her head and upper body and finished it with a kick to the side.

You made a mistake, though. You misjudged the distance and her kick connected with your jaw. The next thing you knew you were slammed into the ground, feeling the back of your head bounce off the octagon mat and you just barely had enough consciousness to lift your forearms above your face to guard against the flurry of punches raining down upon you. And then, just as your guard was about to be shattered the round ended.

You stumbled to your side of the octagon, slowly regaining awareness of your surroundings as several icepacks were pressed against your face and sore muscles. You felt something warm trickling down your neck. You touched it and saw red. Blood. That kick made your scar bleed. Scar...

Tara.

Your breathing became steady, and you slowly shifted into the breathing pattern Zack taught you. In, out, two times in, out, in, two times out, in, out, two times in, out, in, two times out. Your head was getting clear again just as you were left on your own and just as the third round began.

You needed a bit more time, but Anya wouldn't let you have it. So, you went in, hoping a good offense would give you that precious time. You managed to surprise her, catching her in a clinch and landing two good uppercuts to her face before she pulled back. There was a smirk on her face, indicating she wasn't annoyed by your continued resistance.

You smirked back, going for a quick exchange of punches that ended with a side kick from you. The two of you had a few more exchanges, trading blow after blow and it wasn't clear who was getting the upper hand. the second minute of the third round was already halfway done when Anya went in for and went for a grapple. You had no time to react, no time to think, you just went in for a flying knee and got her right in the face. She dropped and you stumbled away from her, barely registering that the collision of her and your momentum made that hit much more effective than it ordinarily would be.

It was over.

Third round, twelve minutes in total and you were the champion. The end results of your career. Two years and five months of fighting. Thirteen fights. Thirteen wins. Twelve by a knock-out. You were the world featherweight champion. You were retired.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader

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