#i love the scene where she's telling them they should talk to georgia bc it's one of those instances where you can see that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

13uswntimagines · 4 years

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The One Where Lindsey *Accidentally*Breaks the Internet (Lindsey Horan x Medic!Reader)

Request: reader is the medic for the thorns and her and lindsey are secretly together and lindsey accidentally lets it slip one day via instagram or something? and the the fans go crazy bc they’ve already been shipping them since lindsey flirts with R every time she can?

Author’s note: So this was super fun to write and there will totally be a sequel like way far down the road. I hope you enjoy it. I should also mention that the reader has an M.D and is the team doctor for the Thorns and the USWNT.

Lindsey Horan was a lot of things. A fantastic soccer player. A loving girlfriend and a woman with a bad habit. She was a tease through and through, loving the effect simple actions could have on both you and the fans. And since quarantine, taking cute photos of you had gotten even easier. Though you hadn’t outright admitted to dating, the fans were nearly certain that the two of you were quarantining together.

Sure they had been suspicious before, with all of your girlfriends flirting during both thorns and national team camp. The middy just couldn’t seem to help herself from distracting you from your medical staff duties, and the fans had noticed. But with Lindsey’s most recent post of you cuddled up with a cup of coffee on her balcony, the Portland skyline in the background, had just about sent them over the edge. It was also the reason for a very excited Somnett’s FaceTime ahead of their scheduled Instagram live.

“So how had quarantining with Y/n been,” Emily asked with a teasing edge to her voice. Lindsey sighed, rolling her eyes and settling back on the couch of your shared apartment. A wide smile broke across her face at the sight of you set up with all your practice medical stuff at the kitchen table, your glasses perched on your nose, a pen tucked behind your ear.

“Good, she’s so fucking adorable,” She said breathlessly, ignoring Emily’s loud cackle of amusement.

“Have you seen the Instagram fans?” Emily asked sobering.

“Yeah, they’ve been going crazy over photos from like 2 years ago,” Lindsey smirked, thinking of her most recent post, and how you had pulled out a photo of you and her in France to one-up her.

“I mean, your girl did a post for Horan hump day…” Sonnett said raising an eyebrow. So maybe both of you sucked at subtlety.

“She also did Tobin Tuesday and Sonnett Sunday,” Lindsey laughed, shaking her head. You may have been on the Medical staff for both the Thorns and the national team, but you minored in photography, and absolutely loved to show your photos off.

“Yeah, but we’re talking about the picture of baby you two. Don’t act like you don’t love to tease them,” Emily snickered, and Lindsey winced slightly. So maybe the photo that she had chosen was from college you on your trip to Paris the week you two met, and maybe in return, you had posted one of her just after you both made the national team in your respective fields.

“I like to tease Y/n, the fans are just a bonus,” Lindsey shrugged, smiling at Emily’s laugh. The two of you were so gooey with your love, hence why the fans were very much onto you.

“Hey babe, can you come help me for a second?” You called out from the table, glancing over the top of your glasses towards your girlfriend.

“Duty calls,” She said in a dramatic voice, moving to hang up the phone.

“Wait, I wanna say hi,” Emily pouted. She knew you could hear her, but she hadn’t actually gotten to see you. You were her best friend and it sucked that she was trapped in Georgia while you and her other best friend got to ham it up together. Lindsey rolled her eyes at the dramatic woman and heaved herself off the couch.

“What’s up, baby?” She asked, setting the phone down on top of one of the many open textbooks so Emily could see you both and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. You sigh, leaning back into her.

“Can you hand me that pack of thread?” You hum, pointing with your forceps hand towards a box on the other side of the table.

“Are you sewing up a chicken?” Emily questioned, her face scrunching in disgust as she took in the scene before her. You were sitting in what the team had deemed your doctor garb (meaning your hair on a bun, glasses perched firmly on your nose, and exams gloves slipped over your hands) with a dismembered chicken in front of you. From the look of the tools on your hands and the half put together chicken, Emily could only assume what you were doing.

“Yeah, I need to practice so I can do one on the fly,” You mumbled, gesturing where you wanted Lindsey to place the new needle and thread pack and puckering your lips to kiss her in thanks.

“Didn’t you do that enough in med school?” Emily teased, her eyes shining. It was rare that the team got to see soft interactions like this between the two of you, and frankly how adorable the two of you were was criminal.

“Hi to you too, Sonnett,” You stuck your tongue out at the woman, finally taking your eyes off your ‘patient’ for the first time. Her cackle brought a smile to your face.

“I’ll just be in the other room. Sonnett and I are about to go live,” Lindsey miles, smoothing back the hair that had fallen in your eyes and kissing your forehead.

“Okie Dokie baby” You smiled up at your girlfriend, pursing your lips for a kiss. She obliged with a giggle. “see you soon, I’ll be watching,” you laughed, wiggling your eyebrows.

“You guys are sickeningly sweet,” Emily made a fake gagging noise that brought your attention back to the offending device.

“Shut up Disani,” Both you and Lindsey snapped together. You loved the woman, but she sure knew how to ruin a moment.

*****

“Come on Linessie, you know that I’m the best cook,” Emily snorted, ignoring the interviewers stupid question in favor of bantering with Lindsey.

“Hey, I’ve gotten way better,” Lindsey huffed, pointing her finger at the blond and refraining from saying that you were most definitely the cook in your relationship.

“Yet you still let Y/n practice her medical skills on your chicken before she cooks it,” Emily rolled her eyes, her hands gesturing wildly at the mention of her most recent phone call with the two of you.

The interviewer froze, her eyes widening. She had been fine with Emily and Lindsey going off the rails a little bit and talking more to each other than answering the questions. The fans loved it and the stories they were telling were gold, but she couldn’t sit back and let this admission slip by. It was the only acknowledgment Lindsey had ever made to your living arrangements, and with the recent string of photos, it may have been the break she was waiting for.

“Wait wait wait, Y/n as in Thorns med staff Y/n, since when were you guys roommates,” The woman interrupted Lindsey midway through her sentence.

“Since we started dating like 3 years ago,” Your girlfriend shrugged offhandedly, returning to her point about her cooking (or lack thereof) ability, leaving the interviewer and a large majority of the fans to sit in shock.

Lindsey paused at the loud pinging of the comment section going crazy. She paused, her eyes drifting towards the rapidly moving comments, smirking when she saw some of the comments from her teammates, and the fans crazy nonsensical comments in return. She winked at the camera, loving that she just broke the internet, and biting her lip unsure of what your reaction would be.

*****

“Nice live stream babe, but I think we need to like to make an official post or something,” You smirked, plopping down in your girlfriend's lap after she ended the stream, poking her dimples, using your thumb to smooth out the worried lines in her forehead.

“I just came out on live stream, and that’s what you say?” Lindsey scoffed, raising her eyebrow at you.

“I mean I love you, and I’m happy we don’t have to hide anymore, but like don’t you think we should tell them we’re engaged?” You asked shrugging, pecking her nose with a smile.

“I think we’ve broken the internet enough for one day,” She rolled her eyes at you, leaning up to peck your lips, tired of your shoty aim.

“The team is going to be pissed when they find out we didn’t tell them you proposed,” You singsonged, laughing lightly. Sure they had posted enough coupily photos of the two of you to last the fans a while, but when they realized you were getting married, it was going to be a media frenzy.

“I’m sure they’ll post enough photos to crash the site,” She laughed, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Well, I know a few other things we can break,” You hummed, nudging her chin with your nose and placing a few kisses on the underside of her jaw.

“Yeah?” She asked, tilting her head to the side to give you more room, moaning lightly when you found the spot you knew drove her wild.

“Hmm, but you better not share this on fucking Instagram live.” You smirked against her skin, teasingly running your teeth along her pulse point, and placing a very wet kiss there.

“I think you put the verb in the wrong place in that sentence-” She breathed out, sighing at the delicious sensations you were sending through her.

“Shut up and take your pants off. I think I need to practice my exam skills” You smirked devilishly at her, and suddenly the team and the fans were the last things on her mind, even though she did just technically break the internet.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #lindsey horan x reader #lindsey horan imagine

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halfway-happyyy · 3 years

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This piece was inspired by this lovely ask that I received an inexplicably long time ago: Seeing an intense and loving sex scene Alex just shot and it lowkey breaks your heart but you don’t show anything bc you don’t want him to get the wrong idea and think you don’t support him but he can tell you’re upset and now /his/ heart breaks bc he can tell you try SO hard not to break down in front of him all day long so he confronts you about it and you tell him everything and that you’re not angry just very sad and you can’t help it and you’re sorry and he shushes you and sweet sex ensues

fluffy smut ensues- enjoy, friends.

“Hi love,” A crewman on Alexander’s latest film, and the first friendly face she had come across since arriving on set, wrapped a free arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek lovingly. “Alright?” He asked.

“Alright,” She smiled and set her purse down by her feet. “How’ve you been Pete? Busy, I bet.”

Peter shrugged and removed the headset from his ears. “Absolutely. Always. You uh… chose an interesting day to visit us,” He remarked with a quirk of a wildly unkempt eyebrow.

“Oh?” She asked and craned above the heads of the scant crew in search of Alexander. “I was hoping to surprise him…”

Peter cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side, his expression uneasy. “They are about to film their second and final love scene of the shoot.”

She swallowed hard and settled back onto the balls of her feet, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest. Two options suddenly become apparent to her: she could cut and run; blame it on a forgotten zoom meeting, or a lunch date with an old friend in the same city. Alternatively, she could swallow back the nausea rising steadily in her throat and remain rooted to the spot. Both options left little room for pride and her cheeks flamed under that realization, and the burning set lights around her. “Oh, that’s alright.” She smiled, shyly.

“You sure?” Peter asked. “Georgia’s camp have asked for a closed set to maximize privacy, and the entire thing was choreographed this morning, so we’re hoping to squash it in as few takes a possible.”

She appreciated his honesty and the soft, protective tone of his voice immensely, but it did little to quell the nervousness that prickled at her unpleasantly. “Sounds great,” She muttered under her breath.

Someone called out to Peter and he rubbed a hand over the rounded curve of her shoulder, offered her up a reassuring smile. “In any regard, he has been waiting weeks to see you. Cannot stop talking about it. He’ll be over the moon that you’re here.” He offered her one last knowing look before wandering off in the direction of the disembodied voice.

She had known exactly what the script entailed before production on the film had even begun, so this could hardly have been a surprise, and yet inexplicably, she still felt blindsided by it.

She watched Alexander and his co-star enter the set, designed to look like a minimalist bedroom. Laughing and talking easily about something, as if they weren't just about to film a painfully intimate scene. Without warning, the lights around them dimmed almost to nil, and the film’s head spoke into a megaphone.

“Alright guys, here we go. We know what we’re about to be doing, we want total silence, let’s try and get this thing smashed in as few takes as possible, shall we?” A dismal murmur of agreement resounded throughout the crowd as the director counted down and shouted action.

She couldn’t make out what was being said between the two actors, but she watched them approach each other with a familiarity reserved only for two people who had grown to know each other in ways solely attributed to unforgiving hours on a movie set. She watched him approach her, watched a large, sure hand entwine itself into her golden tresses, watched him bend toward her, two pairs of lips locked in a dance only they knew. It was difficult to watch and not imagine the effect it was having on him, but a past conversation swam into her mind's eye, and aided in easing her trepidation the slightest bit.

“It's never how you think it's going to be kid,” He had assured over warming amber beers, in a quiet corner of their favourite pub a year ago. “It’s quite possibly the least sexy aspect of the job. And yes, it is intimate. How could it not be? But there are so many people watching you and- so many of them have differing opinions on how it should be performed…” He sighed, frustrated. “Once I know I'm doing one, I like to try and get it out of the way as soon as possible.” He read the uneasy look on her face like an open book and reached for her hand, squeezing it thrice across the marred wooden tabletop. “It's always been you, kid.”

As his co-star began to undress him, working deft fingers down the front buttons of his shirt, she pulled it away from his shoulders with an unreadable expression etched on her face. Towered above her, Alexander stood motionless as she worked the belt from his jeans, and shimmied the pants from his thighs until he was clad before her in only a pair of boxers. Unexpected laughter between the two of them. Light and airy and utterly unfamiliar, caused waves of nausea to swell in her belly and she forced herself a deep, steadying breath. A brief moment where the two kissed each other again, before he pulled away to begin removing her clothing. Anxiety getting the better of her, she dropped her gaze to the floor and bit down on the hollow of her cheek until she could taste the metallic brine of blood on her tongue. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply again, counting down from eight in her head and trying desperately not to spiral on the spot. When she opened them, it was to the realization that they had fallen into bed together, her slight form tucked in between Alexander's open legs like it was meant to be there since the beginning of everything. Though the actress appeared nude in every sense of the word, she knew better. A thin, flower-shaped piece of beige tape covered each nipple, and she sported a flimsy pair of nude-coloured underwear. Alexander had been no better- a simple, nude tube sock was the only thing shielding his manhood from her and everyone else in the room and the notion of it made her dizzy.

It was obvious now that they had choreographed this scene beforehand. Every kiss, every touch, every moan or groan was exactly how it was supposed to be. And the further she watched, the further her heart edged towards the precipice of shattering. So many emotions. She was surprised the most to feel anger; and not at all at him, but at herself. This was his job. His passion. Something that was as easy and instinctive to him as breathing. It was something that though he denied it staunchly, coursed through his blood and exited his body in waves of raw talent.

But watching him touch the undeniably beautiful woman beneath him in ways similar to how he touched her? And always in the privacy of their own home, shielded from view of anyone and everything else? Unimaginably difficult.

“Alright Georgia, I want you to kind of pepper Alex's chest with kisses as he thrusts once more against you, and as he does that, you are going to orgasm and then he is going to follow suit.”

They did exactly as they were told, and she watched in unbridled agony as the two of them tumbled over the proverbial edge, one right after the other. Sounds of their feigned lovemaking filled every square inch of room and very nearly caused her to leave right then and there. But then, mercifully, someone called cut, and the actress extricated herself from him and the torture ceased.

“Alright, that’s a wrap on today friends. Take care, we'll see you all in a couple of days.”

Releasing a lungful of pent-up air that felt like it had taken years to come to fruition, she watched Alexander wander off the set in search of clothing. Reaching down, she retrieved her purse and stole herself for her big reveal. He had asked her to visit him a couple of weeks ago, but their schedules had hardly meshed and it turned out that this was the only time until the end of the year that she could take her leave from work.

The weighty realization that she had never before needed to work up the courage to speak to him was not lost on her. But somehow, after the wildly pseudo-intimate event in which she had just been privy to- even surrounded by the skeleton crew, a knot of unease wound itself tight in the pit of her belly. It hindered her from approaching him directly, so she stood back while he finished speaking with a crew member, her gaze downcast, thoughts spiraling.

“Kid?”

Her nickname- one that had been bestowed upon her the night they first crossed paths, roused her from her anxious reverie and she offered him a meager smile. “Hi, Alex…”

He rushed toward her without hesitation, throwing his long arms around her in an embrace that her body had been craving for weeks. He smelled exactly how she had remembered leaving him, only with a subtle hint of something else- some other foreign flowery scent and instinctively, she reeled back from him, gaze weary.

“God, it's good to hold you again.” He pulled away from her to hold her at arm’s length; could sense the apprehension rolling from her in waves and he frowned. “Did you just get here?”

She swallowed the sizeable lump rising in her throat. “Uh, about an hour ago.”

Realization sunk in behind his eyes; she could see it in the way that the glitter in his blue orbs dulled, and he sighed heavily. “Kid- I had no idea you were coming-

“It was a surprise, Alex.”

He reached another arm around her, pressed his lips to the top of her head in a gentle kiss. “I'm over the moon about it, honestly.” He pulled back from her to caress a hand to her cheek. “I'm just going to grab a few things and then we can head out, okay?”

She could feel the biting sting of looming tears behind her eyes, the words too heavy in the hollow of her throat, so she offered him a nod instead.

Their journey home- a beautiful, rented apartment in West London had been quiet save for the cacophony of masses of passerby. Random pieces of conversations in a myriad of accents, music from someone’s portable sound system, all helped to distract her from the thoughts swirling in her brain. Sitting next to him on the tube, she could feel the familiar warmth radiating from him in waves, and that seemed to abate the anxiety somewhat. Large fingers clasped together on his lap; he was staring at something unseen on the subway floor. The urge to say anything had been palpable minutes ago, but when she went to open her mouth, the precise words eluded her.

“Our stop’s next, kid.”

He rose from the seat ahead of her, offering his hand which she accepted gratefully. As the train trundled to a halt, a voice boomed loud on the speaker above them, but she could not make out what was relayed and then the doors opened for them, fresh air greeting the pair of them like old friends. She had visited England enough times now to know the feeling of an imminent rainfall; the dense moisture that pervaded every square inch of space around them and made her long for a cozy sweater, or blanket.

They walked in silence for about five minutes before the wrought-iron railing of their apartment became visible, and another heap of invisible weight dissipated from her at the notion that she would be in the comfort and warmth of their own space soon. Alexander fit the key into the lock, and opened the door for them, allowed her to wander inside first. Arriving earlier that morning, she had tried to make the space as cozy as she could before she left for the film studio, knowing that he would be spending at least another two months there during post-production. Alexander tossed the keys onto the wooden shelf in the front foyer, kicking his beloved desert boots off with a dull thud. Peeling the blue and grey plaid coat from his body, he hung that up in the front closet and reached for the coat that she had just shed, doing the same. Eyeing her in the fragmented light filtering in through the stained-glass window at the top of the front door, his expression was unreadable.

“I think we should talk about earlier this afternoon, kid.”

Instinctively, she rubbed a hand over her bare arm to ward off the chill that had finally settled itself into her bones and shook her head. “It’s not necessary, Alex.”

He clicked his tongue, gave his head a slight shake. “Don’t do that, kid. It obviously upset you, and I don’t blame you for that at all, but we should talk about it.”

“What is there to talk about, Alex?” She asked, her tone regrettably biting. “What you do in the confines of a film studio- on set, that’s your job. None of it concerns me.”

He sighed heavily. “If I had known you were coming, I could have asked to postpone the scene for a few days…”

“You weren’t supposed to know I was coming. That was the whole point...” Sensing that she was treading treacherous waters, she tried to switch tactics. “I’m fried from the flight in, I haven’t eaten much at all today- all of which resulted in a grotesque culmination of emotions, and I’m over it now.”

She viewed his 6’4” figure stood in the front hallway before her, large hands tucked into the front pockets of his blue jeans. He was sporting socks that she had purchased him for Christmas last year and the mere sight of them caused the lump that had dissipated a while ago to resurface in the hollow of her throat.

“Please, just talk to me.”

Anger evaded his tone- it brimmed instead with a gentle desperation, the resonance of it caused her heart to splinter a little deeper than it already was.

Words thick at the back of her throat, she leveled her gaze with his. “It hurt, Alex.”

There it was.

“It hurt to watch you be so intimate with someone else- to watch her touch you in ways reserved only for my hands, and my fingers, and my lips…” Flames fanned from anger and shame licked at her throat, and god damnit, she could feel the impending threat of tears again. Swallowing hard, she shrugged her shoulders. “And it sounds so much like jealousy but it’s not. It goes deeper than that,” She trailed off, voice breaking, as she lifted her gaze to Alexander’s. “I need you to know that I love you, and that I’ll support you in every single endeavor. But it just gets difficult sometimes…”

His cerulean gaze downcast, he chewed anxiously at the edge of his bottom lip as he mulled over what to say. When he finally glanced up at her, saltwater glittered in the depths of his own eyes and he allowed himself a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry, kid.”

She could hear the fragility in his voice now, how close it was to shattering completely and, in that moment, she launched herself into his arms. The urge to feel him on her, raw and utterly overwhelming. A secure arm around her waist, an impossibly warm hand at the back of her head, he held her to him like it was the last time he would ever have the opportunity. They stood embraced like that for an unknowable amount of time, and when he pulled away, it was to take hold of her hand and lead her down the hallway to the washroom. Once there, he flicked on the light which bathed the room in a pale-yellow glow and turned to her.

“Arms up,” He murmured, softly.

Doing as she was told, she raised her arms for him and held her breath as he pulled the t shirt from her body, tossing it into the wicker hamper next to the sink. He placed warm kisses over the delicate line of her collarbone, as he undid the zipper on her jeans and shimmied the useless material from her legs. She held onto his shoulders for support as he reached around her to unclasp her bra, letting the flimsy material fall to the glossy, tiled loor beneath them. Gentle lips kissed the soft skin of her shoulder blade as he hooked two fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs, which she kicked off to the side. Standing back, she watched him rid himself of his own clothing in unconcealed awe, her hungry gaze raking over the definition in his chest, and at the taut, sun-kissed skin that rippled over chiseled muscles. He never failed to take her breath away.

They entered the shower together; a violent shiver wracked her body as she waited for the water to turn hot. Watching him from the far wall, she suddenly wanted him. She could feel a strong desire in the pit of her belly- where anger recently burned red-hot there, it had been replaced with a sheer need to have every inch of him make up for the hollow emptiness she had felt hours earlier.

He dipped his head beneath the steaming stream of water and beckoned her toward him. “Come here, kid.”

She walked into his open arms, wrapped her own around his frame and nestled her head against the part of his chest where she could feel the rhythmic beating of his heart against her cheek. His embrace, and the blissfully warm water rolling down her back was a healing salve for her soul and she could feel her anxiety dissipate with each passing minute they stood there. He gathered the wet hair from her shoulder in his hand and dropped it behind her back to press a series of scorching kisses up the side of her neck to her earlobe. Reaching for the shampoo bottle on the ledge, he poured a heap of the opaque liquid into the palm of his hand and began to massage it into her hair with skilled fingers. He worked it into a lather and pulled her back under the water to rinse it out, the subtly perfumed suds cascading freely down her back. Next, he worked the conditioner into her hair, and while that sat, he poured bodywash onto a sponge and began to wash her with a delicacy she was rarely privy to. She held onto him for support as he passed the soft sponge over the sensitive parts of her body, beneath her arms, the hollow crooks in the back of her knees, the soles of her feet. When he was satisfied with his work, he pulled her back under the the warm water to rinse the soap from her body and the conditioner from her hair. She was contentedly sleepy under the steady warmth; her eyelids heavy as she watched him cleanse himself of the day in which they had both endured. When he was finished, he held her in his arms again. She could feel the familiar pressure of his erection against her thigh, how it swelled harder the longer they remained embraced.

“I want you, Alex.” She murmured, earnestly.

A deep inhalation, she could feel him nod against her. Guiding her out of the stream of water, he positioned her up against the heated stones of the shower wall. She braced her arms above her, could feel him line himself up at her soaking entrance. Placing tender kisses down the ridges of her spine, he paid special attention to certain spots on her back that nearly made her sing out for him. One final kiss, and he pushed himself inside of her, reveling in her all-consuming heat. Dropping his forehead to the middle of her back, he stayed where he was for a moment to give her time to adjust to his size.

This was what she had been after from the very beginning; the sensation of him buried to the hilt inside of her, the delicious fullness of him, nearly brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes. “So good, Alex…” She gasped.

He nodded against her; all forms of speech eluded him as he pulled back from her all-encompassing heat only to re-enter at an agonizingly slow pace. He grasped onto her hips as he found a steady tempo for himself, his fingernails digging miniscule crescent moons in her soft flesh.

“God, I’ve missed this.” He groaned, breathlessly.

Freeing a hand from her hip to snake it down to her sex, he pressed a skilled fingertip into her swollen clit, rubbing tantalizing circles into it. She raked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down on it to keep from crying out, causing Alexander to nip at the nape of her neck in mild disapproval.

“None of that, kid. I can tell how good I’m making you feel- but I want to hear it, and I certainly don’t want you to be quiet about it.” Always in constant awe of the sheer, physical affect that his words had on her body, she could feel the familiar unravelling of pressure in the pit of her belly and she arched her back against him to glean more pleasure. “Fuck, you feel amazing…”

A telltale sign of a man nearing the edge, his thrusts had started to grow sloppy, and she clenched around him to help spur his orgasm on.

“Fuck, Alex,” She warned in a hushed tone.

He groaned against her and applied harder pressure to her clit as she stilled against him, mouth parted and slack as a pleasure-induced white-hot lightning bolt coursed through her entire body. She imagined that she could feel it from the tips of her toes to the hair follicles on her head, and she trembled violently against him as her orgasm loomed tantalizingly out of reach.

“That’s it, baby…” He coaxed, gently. “Come all over this cock, hm?”

She froze against him, a single sound worked its way up her throat and exited her mouth in the form of a broken scream, as she tumbled over the edge, her orgasm immediate and intense. Clenching around his cock unintentionally as she unwound from her high, her muscle contractions caused him to drop his head to her back as he too began to unravel above her.

Fingernails marring the soft flesh of her hips and ribs, he stilled against her and with a strangled cry, came into her in thick, warm spurts. She had been after this sensation as well if she were honest. The satisfying feeling of being filled with every ounce of come he had to give her, could never be replicated. Peppering a couple more kisses to her damp back, he reluctantly pulled from away her to marvel at his come as it dripped from her core and slid down her inner thigh.

“Beautiful,” He murmured more to himself than to anyone else.

She stood where she was, braced against the wall for support while she tried to regulate her laboured breathing. Exiting the shower, she relieved herself, and wrapped a towel around her frame to dry off. Padding over to the expansive window adjacent to the made bed, she peered out over a darkening London. Raindrops raced each other in misshapen lines down the glass panes, and she found that she was grateful for the current weather. Alexander approached her from behind, wrapping her in his arms around her waist, chin resting easily in the crook of her shoulder blade.

“London is a lot more breathtaking with you in it.”

His stubble tickled her neck and she smiled to herself. “I bet you say that to all the pretty girls.”

A subtle grumble, he turned her around so that she was facing him. Still entirely naked, he held her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. Her gaze traversed the cutting line of his jaw, his lips, his defined nose, his sparkling cerulean orbs which glittered brilliantly as he stared at her. No smile was offered up, but the delicate creases next to his eyes deepened as he spoke. “Just you, kid.”

He brushed the calloused pad of his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“Yesterday, today, tomorrow.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagines #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alex sstuff #writing #drabble #smut #alexander skarsgård

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starshipviolet · 4 years

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A MESSY LOVELESS REVIEW

I finally finished Loveless so I can follow Alice Oseman without fear of spoilers god I missed them?? It’s been over a month since I stopped following her it felt so wrong.

But here’s some Loveless thoughts! (It’s a tiny bit critical heads up if you’re not up for that.) I might edit this up into a formal review for like goodreads or something, but for right now the rambly bulletpoints just kinda work with how my brain works.

ALSO THIS INCLUDES SPOILERS

I have... let’s just say slightly unrealistic expectations from Alice Oseman novels sometimes, probably bc Radio Silence was just like, everything to me, like a major hyper fixation, it hung the stars, etc. and I related so hard to it when I read it, and her other books are fairly different than that and I’m not as quick to relate to them.

So I came into this book super excited, I live in the US and it took forever to ship (and during that time I had to unfollow Alice, and block the osemanverse tag bc spoilers, god, these are signs of the impending apocalypse.)

Overly dramatic first world problems aside, as I kept reading I was not like... overly excited about the first few sections?

I really liked the first first part, with the introduction of Pip and their texting, although Pip pressuring her to kiss Tommy was Not Fun In Many Ways. I thought Jason was sweet though and I liked the platonic relationships being set up, also the sleepover movies was a cute kinda realistic detail to throw in.

It was cool that they were just kinda dorks? (I love them, and so am I, but like. They’re such dorks. I don’t care that Jason’s trying to reframe himself as some sort of rowing jock, he is.) Like they had all their in jokes and sleepover nights and just kinda like low key hanging out which was nice bc there’s a lot of focus on like clubs and partying in YA and Alice’s books and it was cool to affirm, like “hey look, still happy without that.”

Tommy trying to kiss her was so painful but it also meant a lot to me that there was the “wait what I’ve just been lying to myself about liking him what does that mean” bc you know, lesbian solidarity vibes.

So you get to Durham, and it just... wasn’t as exciting as I hoped for the first chunk? Like I was mostly excited for enemies to lovers with Pip and Rooney but I forgot that means that they have to be horribly annoying to each other at first and I didn’t like Rooney right away.

This is where I should probably give a Big Huge Note that just because something made me uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s bad writing or that it doesn’t serve a purpose. Georgia’s social pressure to conform to heteronormative ideas of romance is a reality so many people face. Rooney needed to have flaws at first so we could see character development.

Bottom line is, for me it was uncomfortable to read parts and I didn’t start truly loving the book until probably after she broke up with Jason. Their relationship was just so terrible. Again, do I know it serves a purpose? Yes. Did it enhance my personal entertainment of the novel? Absolutely not.

That being said, there were some good Pip/Rooney moments, and as basically a theatre kid the Shakespeare Society club meant a lot to me and I thought it was a good inclusion and also JESUS I thought I was gonna freaking die from all the tension in Pip and Rooney’s Beatrice and Bertrand performance. Wow.

Also Sunil!! I love them! I did think it was slightly weird that he was only referred to with he/him pronouns when they use he/they, but I’m not nonbinary so I’ll look out for what other ppl are thinking about that. It was so cool to have him there though, bc those kids needed some guidance and he needed some time to just have fun so, win win! We are so lucky for Sunil, we don’t deserve him.

Also I need to know everything about Jess bc I have a suspicion we may be the same person. Except I’m not in orchestra. Or British. Or aromantic bisexual. Whatever. She just seems awesome! And I would’ve loved to hear some wisdom from a slightly older queer woman, I guess.

So! Jumping now to some criticisms, I feel like there’s a bunch of parts where Georgia is explaining her feelings, or explaining someone else’s motivations or actions, and it didn’t do a lot for me, I wish there was more like show don’t tell.

There were some points when the writing was genuinely so good, like Pip’s dialouge was always fantastic, especially towards the end with Georgia, it showed off their friendship in a way I really would’ve loved to see more of. Alice’s imagery and character descriptions, especially outfit descriptions had some really good moments, like the main example I think about is the ball because that was everything for me until it wasn’t.

I just really did not enjoy Rooney kissing Georgia, it was such a painful scene and even more than my discomfort, it was just trope-y, you could tell that Pip would catch them and it didn’t feel necessary. I think they could’ve structured it where Pip is just mad about what happened to Jason and it would’ve been better.

But the outfit descriptions! And the bouncy castle game! And the decorations! It was definitely one of my favorite scenes.

I also loved that Alice included Ellis, just like, hell yeah it was so good especially the part where she talks about how there’s magic and love in painting and friends and living and everything.

Georgia and Rooney’s relationship toward the end made me SO emotional and I cried at the part where Georgia was talking about how she’s afraid her friends will leave her and Rooney comforts her.

And the big platonic gestures were fantastic, I knew that they would happen but I was worried it would be too cliche but it was the perfect amount of dorky and I loved it.

This book made me so happy and taught me a lot and I can only hope it will do the same for others and Alice will continue creating brilliant content. If you got this far, gee thanks friend, you have commitment. *Gives you friendship flowers*

#loveless #loveless alice oseman #alice oseman #osemanverse #book review #ya book review #the ramblings #ya books #lgbtq+ ya books #lgbt ya books #lgbt books

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impatient14 · 7 years

Text

EMP Theory is Alive and Thriving

I want to preface this post with this: I am in no way trying to offend or upset the people who do not believe in EMP. This show can be read in so many ways, even by the people who agree on most things. I respect everyone’s opinion. This is just mine!

So, with that said, I want to go through some things I noticed in The Six Thatchers that (to me) are Extended Mind Palace smoking guns. Let it be said that I have only watched the episode twice so there is definitely going to be more to add to this list.

1.) The story about death in Sumara. It was mentioned multiple times, by multiple characters. Almost like they were all given the same script. And you may be like, well, yeah, they are actors in a show, but writers do not give actors the same brain. But it is like Sherlock, Mycroft, and Norbury all share a brain. They all bring up the story without any of the characters speaking to each other about the story first. Sherlock’s dialogue is a voice over, which is not time stamped. It is possible that Mycroft and Norbury brought up the story and then Sherlock used it in his monologue to the audience, but why did Mycroft and Norbury both think of the story? Because they share a brain. Sherlock’s brain.

2.) As @tjlcisthenewsexy pointed out, the sharks, CAM, water, and the death story are also very telling. This post/thread sums it up far better than I could.

3.) Intuition, Premonition- these words were used to describe Sherlock’s feelings about The Six Thatchers case. Premonition is defined as a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Sherlock is anticipating his death, and his intuition is telling him that Mary is involved. Its almost as if she is responsible for his murder in the first place…

4.) The odd transitions and reality breaks. The water imagery over Sherock’s face and in the background of certain scenes, Mycroft and his office busting just as the MT busts were doing throughout the episode, the overlay of a cracked bust on the side of Sherlock’s face. There is an argument for production style here, but its all so very over the top. Much more so than ususal for BBC’s Sherlock. Its almost like they want you to question what you are seeing…

5.) The Damn Skull. In case you can’t tell. Its glowing, almost like an x-ray. Like, an x-ray of someone who is currently laying in a hospital bed. Its fucking glowing guys. Adding onto the fact that it was blue in HLV, something is seriously wrong here.

6.) Mary and John sleeping on opposite sides of the bed from where they slept at the beginning of HLV.

7.) AJ doesn’t care about killing people enough to slit the throat of one of the Thatcher bust owners (unless it was really Mary who killed her), but doesnt shoot Sherlock when Sherlock tells him he is Mary’s friend and he will protect her. Um. Okay.

8.) Sherlock Holmes. His first and last name was said multiple times, by multiple people. Almost as if the entire world is centered around him. We hear his full name multiple times in his confrontation with AJ at the pool. “Who are you? Sherlock Holmes. Who is Sherlock Holmes? Not a policeman.” (This is a reference to ACD or canon Sherlock Holmes who is always described as “Not a policeman or vigilante, just a logical man with an eye for detective work.”) AJ’s “Goodbye Sherlock Holmes” is haunting me too, and not just because of the cheesy line. Where else have we heard someone say, “Goodbye Mr. Holmes”? (Honest question, I know its significant…help! EDIT TO ADD: A couple people have pointed out that this is what Irene texts Sherlock in ASiB. I do remember this, but it isn’t what I had in mind. I feel like I can hear someone say it…like in a threatening way the way AJ does…any takers?)

9.) “Sherlock the dragon slayer.” Mary says this to Sherlock after she gives him what looks like a wickedly smug smile. First of all, how the hell does Mary know Sherlock sees himself this way. When he and Mycroft had this conversation, she was in the middle of passing out in John’s arms. Unless she knows Sherlock sees himself this way because the conversation with Mycroft took place in Sherlock’s mind, just as this ones does.

10.)”My Darling.” Mary begins her letter to John in the most old fashioned, cheesy way. Its not the way Mary Morstan talks…but it is the Mrs. John Watson talks- from TAB. “I don’t mind you going, my darling, I mind you leaving me behind.”

11.) Mary’s disguise on the plane was a joy to watch, but it reminded me of someone else. Sherlock. Sherlock loves disguises and theatrics. The vicar from ASiB and the french waiter from TEH spring to mind.

12.) The number 6. Six months of bristly kisses. 6 months until SHerlock was to die in exile. 6 years that AJ was held in captivity. 6 Thatcher busts. A metaphorical 666 carved into the baby’s head. Highlighted 6 before giving us this:

The number 6 is important to Sherlock, but why?

13.) John’s blog. There should be multiple blog posts for us to read and yet, there aren’t. Its not that Joe is no longer available, bc they’ve told us he has a project for this series…why stop updating the blog? Because there have been no more cases and John is too busy sleeping by Sherlock’s hospital bed. oH, and The six Thatchers? Already a case Sherlock solved. Years ago.

14.) Scene in Georgia. The ambassador says, “I’ve got something they’d love if I could just get out of here” (Paraphrasing). The man asks what and the ambassador replies, “Amo.” She has love. Just like Sherlock has love and has figured it out and if he could just get the hell out of that coma, out of the damn hospital bed, he could give it to John- and John would love him in return.

15.) The two lengthy rapid deductions Sherlock makes are about Mary.

16.) The white papers of doom. There are three of them. Mary to Sherlock (drugged), Exx to John (temptation), and Molly to Sherlock from John (emotional distress). There was a white note of doom in TAB too. Miss me?

17.) John’s cheating story line. It fits in with TAB (see below), but I think its more complicated than just that. We get him texting someone Hey and them replying with the same.Then we get the night time text messages. They seem to be written between people who are at the beginning stages of their relationship, but are still intimate in some way. The Its been too long and Miss you implies they’ve spent time together, but the Night Owl? implies they don’t know each other very well. So, taken alone, this could definitely be from the bus woman. John then breaks it off with his This isn’t a good idea. I’m not free. Things wont end well. It was fun getting to know you a little. I’m sorry. Then the bus stop girl is waiting for him at the bus stop and he smiles at her and then looks guilty- the same look he had when he decided to keep the paper instead of throwing it away. This is what we see. HOWEVER there is more there. First, when John opens the paper to text Exx for the first time he does so horizontally, however, the image they show us has the number broken vertically, as if the paper were folded vertically and Exx isn’t broken up.

Then we’ve got Sherlock saying he deletes all messages from John that begin with the word “Hi”, then we see John text someone (E xx) with the word “Hey.” .The paper that the woman (E) gave John was already in her hand when she was sitting on the bus, she was fiddling with it when they made flirty eye-contact. She then wrote something on it before giving it to him, but the presence of the paper beforehand is suspicious. Almost as if she was planning to hand that exact paper to John anyway, before they even flirted. We’ve also got Sherlock telling John and Lestrade, very specifically, to take the bus home from the crime scene. Sherlock set John up. Why? Because that is the part he needs him to play. He needs John to feel guilty while Mary piles on the manipulative hero-worship and then dies in his arms. All of the text messages themselves are off. Almost like they are in code or written to different people. As if it is Sherlock writing for LiR, while channeling himself as well.

18.) TAB. Basically the existence of TAB is the biggest smoking gun of all. Within that episode, Mofftiss established multiple things. 1.) Sherlock sometimes goes through lengthy mind palace scenarios (with the aid of drugs) to work out a case and we, as the viewer, could be subject to watching them. 2.) A bride fakes her own death with a big splat of blood and drama, then returns to kill her husband- who was cheating on her. 3.)Sherlock made a promise to someone about keeping their spouse safe, and that promise was broken. Lady Carmichael- “You promised! You promised you’d keep him safe!” John- “You made a vow!” Let it be said that Lady C was playing Sherlock there and that she wanted her husband dead all al- OH WAIT. Actually, we never get confirmation that it was Lady C that set up the whole thing. Sherlock makes that deduction, but then Moriarty shows up and ruins the reveal. Either way, its the same story line. Sherlock makes a promise to keep someone safe and fails. 4.) we have the text messages that Sherlock sends John and Mary at the end. Mary’s reads: The Curtain Rises.The Last Act.Its Not Over. John’s is just literal directions as to where to go. He didn’t tell Mary where to meet him. There could be an argument that this would imply that Mary was already in on some sort of plan to fake her death, but the exact same phrasing was used in TAB.

19.) Mary’s video. A posthumous message that parallels Moriarty’s in many, many ways, which includes the phrase, Save John Watson. Where have we seen the phrase Save John Watson before? It was the answer to part of the skip code in TEH. John or James, indeed.

20.) “You’ve been having a reoccurring dream.” I feel like this might be an actual scene, just placed out of order. This scene might be from after Sherlock wakes up. He explains to her what he went through in his MP and she (as any therapist would do) interprets it as a dream. A reoccurring dream. That’s exactly what TAB and TST is. Its the same dream told differently. He goes to Ella after he has awoken and recovered and asks for her help in figuring out what to do with the emotions he has decided to acknowledge. (EDIT: This may actually be EMP too…read this.)

I think 20 is a good number to stop at. Im sure there will be more in the future. Please feel free to add on at your leisure.

The most important thing to realize here is that Mary is the villain and Sherlock is figuring out how to best her, protect John, and stay alive at the same time AkA- The Final Problem.

Tags:

@monikakrasnorada @isitandwonder @tjlcisthenewsexy @ebaeschnbliah @yan-yae @gosherlocked @the-7-percent-solution @longsnowsmoon5 @tendergingergirl @may-shepard @loveismyrevolution

#sherlock #emp #tst #tjlc #johnlock

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