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tsimvkas · 1 month

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come back home — mason mount.

A/N: really sad to hear about the new injury so maybe this can distract u guys a bit. im ngl, this one is pretty personal to me so please take care of it. tbh this is a special fic for mi amore elisa, and i hope it matches her expectations. this story wouldn’t exist without you bestie 🫶🏻

word count: 8.5k | masterlist

content: reader has mommy issues, dad!mason, angsty and fluffy end

When your mum called, you didn’t think twice.

She asked you to spend a week with her, and you accepted straight away, incapable of believing that your brother left her alone without warning you.

To be fair, you know you’re not on speaking terms with him, but it's your mother. How could he let her alone?

When you told Mason, you could see the insecurity on his face. Since you gave birth to your baby boy, you had never ever left the house without him, and leaving Manchester to go back to your mum’s in London was a big thing, but eventually he sighed and nodded.

“Just make sure you call me everyday” he kissed your forehead before kissing Leo. Just a week, you told him. In a week you would be back to your husband.

You met Mason at the Champions League final im the 20/21 season, and you like to say it was love at first sigh, the way your relationship instantly clicked is still surprising. You dated for a year before he asked you to be his wife, and you thinks you would’ve said yes another million times.

You’ve been together through the good enough season of 21/22, and all the shit of 22/23. You got pregnant in the middle of his last season for Chelsea, and Luke was born already in Manchester, in October.

Since Mason’s injury in November he’s been able to participate more, spending lots of time with his son as he doesn’t need to go to away games, and you know that this week away will make both of them sad.

You tried to tell yourself that since Mason is back at the regular training and ready to be back on the pitch, they would spend less time together anyway. It didn’t make the decision any easier.

When you packed for a week and got into the car, your husband helped to put Luke in the baby seat before kissing you lovely.

“Call me every night. Don’t let her be alone with Luke, please? And come back soon” he whispered against your lips, stroking your chin. “I love you”

“I love you” you kissed him, before reluctantly driving away from your husband.

Sundays are usually already sad and gray, but Mason is sure his just hit another level of depression.

—

It was already night when you got to your mum’s house, not talking much to her before settling on Matt’s old room and texting Mason.

You instantly found out that it would be a difficult week: it was the first time you were away from Mason since you gave birth, and the first time Luke had to sleep away from daddy.

The thing is that he couldn’t. You couldn’t put your baby to sleep, not even if your life depended on it. Luke kept loudly crying, tossing and squirming in your arms.

You tried your best to calm him, thinking it could have something bothering him like his current clothes or the weather difference, but not even breastfeeding calmed him down.

Mason tried to help you every time he FaceTimed you, and it was when Luke seemed to feel better but never lasted long.

You were feeling exhausted the whole week, but that didn’t stop your mother from asking you everything she could, like you were still fifteen years old with the responsibility of helping her to clean a house isn’t yours anymore.

Plus, she seemed incredibly bothered about Luke and the fact he wasn’t feeling well, dropping comments about him. You tried your best to ignore, because you know your mother isn’t the easiest person to live with, and since you were leaving soon you didn’t want to fight.

Wednesday night you were missing Mason like crazy, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped with him under the covers, and your heart twisted when his face showed up on your screen.

“Hi baby” Mason murmured, already tucked in bed and making your heart ache with the need of being there and snuggling with him.

“Hi Mase. How are you?”

“Training was fine, and I’m getting closer to come back” he smiled, and you instantly matched his expression.

“I can’t wait to watch you again, love”

You think that is adorable how Mason’s cheeks still got red when you show him affection.

“And how’s your week going?”

“It could’ve been better if I was with you. I miss you” you sighed. “But the week is almost over and I’ll be home soon”

“Good” he yawned, getting more comfortable. . “Show me my little man”

Luke was still wide awake and paying attention to what you were saying, and you showed Mason to him.

“Hi buddy, you’re being a good boy, yeah? Be good to mumma, please. I miss you”

When Luke babbled to him, Mason giggled before wishing you a good night and telling you he loved you.

—

When Saturday came your mother talked to you, saying Matt had some problem and he wouldn’t be back for another week, begging you to stay a little while. The hardest part was telling Mason about it.

“She needs me to stay for one more week, Masey” you murmured, feeling guilty. When Mason didn’t answer you tried again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be home next Sunday”

“It’s okay. I was just hoping you’d be here for Liverpool’s game tomorrow, I think I’ll be subbed on. But it’s okay, you can travel to Brentford's game with Luke” he assured you. “I wish I could go see you during the international break, but they want me to stay in rehab”

“I’m really sorry baby, I tried to contact my brother but he’s being petty” you sighed.

“I understand, princess. I just miss you” he told you gently. “How’s my buddy going?”

“He’s good, he’s just so irritated lately, I think it’s his tooth” you sighed again, feeling tired. “He misses you”

“Poor bubba” Mason pouted, making you smile. “Give him a kiss yeah?”

“Sure” you smiled. “We’ll be back at the end of the week. I love you”

When the week unfolded, you weren’t sure about your decision anymore.

You choose to stay with your mother for one more week over living your husband’s comeback, and in gratitude she spent this time talking bad things about you.

It started with innocent comments. How she would never buy the clothes you were wearing. How you were raising a clingy kid by never letting him sleep alone. How you should breastfeed him less or your boobs would get flaccid.

You tried to shrug it off, like you did when you were younger. You used to believe that your mother was always right and that she was always the mature one, but you’re not so sure anymore.

During the second week you kept calling Mason every night, sharing about your day and showing him to Luke, who would try to grab the phone and put dads on his month. When, without a question if you could or wanted, the second week turned into a third, you could feel Mason losing his patience.

“It’s okay, you can still go to Brentford’s game this Saturday” he repeated, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead. “You can bring Luke, Brentford is friendly. How is he doing?”

“He had a fever but he’s fine now” you showed Luke sleeping next to you, his face a little red.

“Let me know if something changes” Mason asked you, and his concerned look just proved you chose the right dad for your son.

You nodded to his image on the small screen, his adorable face almost hidden by the sheets, the bed looking incredibly big.

“Can we sleep on call?” you asked, missing him so much it was physically hurting you. Mason’s face softened and he nodded.

Some people might think that you could just go back home. If you really miss him you would do it, right?

But you know Mason understands your relationship with your mother, how you feel you owe her everything. She raised you, gave you everything you needed.

She was rough sometimes, yes. And there were days you didn’t feel loved at all, but she was still your mum, even when she couldn’t tell you she was proud, even when she couldn’t hug you during storms.

Even when she couldn’t believe you would be someone successful one day.

So you kept there, living your days boringly, washing the dishes and the clothes, playing with Luke, cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner. For her, so she would be happy and proud.

And you were losing your mind.

—

When Brentford's game came, you weren’t able to go. You apologised to him the day before, spending hours on the phone, and even though you could see the sad look in his eyes Mason was still comprehensive.

“She needs me to accompany her to the exam” you told him, and Mason himself could see you weren’t funny about your current situation; you just weren’t brave enough to hurt your mother the way she hurts you and leave.

You were able to watch the game when you came back from your mother’s exam and it wasn’t a surprise to you when Mason changed the whole game by being subbed on.

Luke was already sleeping, so you tried your best not to scream when your husband scored, tearing up to see he dedicated the goal to you by pointing to his ring finger.

You were able to talk with him only for a few minutes before he desperately needed to sleep, whispering that you was proud of him and the way his voice cracked when he told you he loved you made your heart hurt.

Following the week, you weren’t able to talk much with him. Only quick calls at night before he dozed off still holding his phone, feeling much more tired now that he’s back at attending games even though he doesn’t play the full match.

Your Wednesday started with Luke’s little sobs waking you up, and you were sure he wasn’t feeling well again. After breastfeeding and showering with him, you managed to get you both changed and ready to start the day.

When you got downstairs your mother was already in the kitchen, and you could hear her complaining that you were late.

“For what?” you surprised her, and despite being early in the morning she seemed grumpy already.

“For breakfast, what more could it be? I had to cook it myself” she snorted, and you took a deep breath before

“If you’re capable of it, I don’t see what’s wrong” you shrugged.

The truth is that you’re starting to wonder what he hell you’re doing there and why Matt hasn’t come back. What should be a week turned into a month and you was living her life instead of yours.

When you sat at the table for breakfast, after managing to cook your own meal with Luke in one of your arms, you had to take a deep breath as soon as she started to talk.

You’ve heard in silence when she talked about you and Luke, but never makes you more furious like when your mother decides to talk about Mason.

“He could spend more time in the gym” she told you, suddenly. “Your husband”

You were only capable of frowning at her, not understanding why she would brought this out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“He could train more. Maybe some more muscles would make him prettier and better at football” she shrugged, making you laugh in disbelief.

“He’s already pretty and good at football”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I feel like he’s not the right man to you, and I want the best to my little girl”

Mason is the most caring and gentle man you’ve ever known, and you knew you couldn’t sit there and hear her talking shit about him day after day.

“Mum, you can’t be serious. He’s my husband. Not only this, but he’s Luke’s father. Don’t talk about him like that”

“Are you sure he doesn’t cheat on you?” she innocently asked, making you choke on your coffee.

“Mum!” you gasped, not believing what she was saying.

Luke’s eyes widened and you tried to recompose yourself so he wouldn’t cry out of fear

“I mean, he could have anyone… everyone. A skinny and tanned woman, with pretty features…”

There it was. The reason why you grew up so insecure, something that would annoy lots of men — but not Mason. Not your boy, who would reassure you every time and make you really believe that you’re pretty and loved.

Her words still stung though, but you shrugged them off.

“Mason loves me” was everything you told her before leaving the table with Luke.

You went out for a walk with your baby, trying to make the day pass faster and see if he’d feel better after some fresh air. When it started to get dark, you came back home and gave Luke a shower, laying in bed with him.

Later that night Mason called you like he always does, and you were happy to see his name shining on your screen.

“Hi baby” you whispered, but to your surprise he didn’t greet you back.

“How’s Luke?” Mason murmured, and you could sense the tiredness and loneliness in his voice. “Don’t you think you should bring him back home so we can get him to our doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want to do. But I can’t leave my mum alone and Matt won’t answer the phone-”

But Mason had enough, and suddenly he lost his patience.

“And why, exactly, can’t you leave her alone, Y/N? Enlighten me, please. From what I can remember, she can do everything perfectly. She’s not sick, she’s not weak. She’s just using you”

Mason never liked your mother, much due to how she treats you, and you understand. It just hurts that you have so many good things to talk about his mother whilst yours is always giving him reasons to hate her.

“Mason… she’s my mother. Can we not talk about her like that?” you murmured, but you know he’s right.

On the other side, Mason did his best to not scream at you, something he swore he would never, even if it’s out of frustration.

“She’s your mother, yeah. And I’m your fucking husband. I know you never chose to have a narcissist as your mother, but you chose to marry me and I thought I would have an important spot in your life. I know family comes first but I thought that someday you’d start to prioritize the family you made”

You could feel how tired he was. How he needed you to understand his point.

“I’m trying, Mase” was the only thing you were capable of whispering.

“You say you are but you keep choosing her. You keep going when she calls even though you know she’s only going to hurt you. You keep choosing your mother over your husband and I don’t know if I can do this anymore”

“Mason…” your heart dropped. “Don’t say that”

“Do you have any idea of how much I miss my son? How much I’ve been missing my wife? It’s been a month, Y/N. And I feel like you’re not thinking about my feelings, at all”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, it was supposed to be just a week” you tried to defend yourself. “I don’t know what’s going on or why Matt isn’t back yet. It has been hard for me too, yeah? I miss you so much and I’m sorry”

“Well I think you should set your priorities” he murmured before turning the call off on your face.

You instantly felt the tears forming. He hasn’t said it was over, but it was obviously a warning that it wasn’t over just yet.

With a sick Luke in one of your arms, you started to clean the room you had been staying in. Cleaning always helps you, and you let your cry reach out to you during the process, feeling overwhelmed and tired.

You wanted your home and your husband, but as a daughter you feel like you need to take care of your mother. Like you’re supposed to give her everything she’s been giving you your whole life.

After tidying the room you went downstairs to prepare the dinner, and whilst you mixed the sauce something snapped. What were you doing there?

You should be cooking for Mason, so he would have a proper meal after his nap. Luke should be sitting in his baby chair whilst you were humming happy songs. Not there, where your mother can cook her own dinner and clean her own house.

It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t understand that you have your own family now.

When you set the table for dinner your mother wasn't home yet, and you ate with Luke’s little screams, trying to smile at him. She finally arrived an hour later, and whilst she entered the house you decided that you had enough.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning” you told her whilst she closed the door. “Mason will face Chelsea and I need to be there. And Luke is sick, so I’m heading back home after the game to take him to his doctor in Manchester”

“What are you talking about? He looks fine”

“I’m his mother. I know when he’s not doing well” you snapped at her. “And don’t come to me saying you don’t wanna be alone. You’re not alone, are you? Because I spent the day here to be with you whilst you’re walking around the city or going to your friend’s house” you tried not to snap. “And getting drunk every Saturday even tho I tell you how much I hate it. We’re leaving tomorrow, whether you like it or not”

Not leaving her time to answer, you went upstairs to sleep a bit. When Luke finally slept you debated whether or not you should send a message to Mason letting him know you would go back home after the game.

Deciding not to disturb him any more and imagining that he was still upset with you, you laid with your son and tried to sleep, but the shooting thoughts wouldn’t let you.

What if Mason had enough? What if he doesn’t want you anymore, what if you are too late?

—

When you woke up, you took Luke in your arms and started to pack. Since you were supposed to stay only for a week you didn’t have much to organise, and soon you were ready to go.

Your plans were to drive to Stamford Bridge and see Mason after the game before heading to Manchester whilst he came back home with the team.

But as soon as you checked beneath the pillow and under the bed, you realised your phone wasn’t anywhere.

Taking Luke downstairs and looking everywhere you could, you tried to ask your mother.

“Have you seen my phone? It’s not where it should be”

“You should take care of your stuff, Y/N. I thought I taught you that your things are your responsibility” she told you with a flat look and you stared at her for a few seconds, in disbelief.

After hours of searching for it, you gave up. There was only an hour left before the game and since you only started to drive recently the idea of driving around without following the GPS terrified you, so you had to make a choice.

Plus, you were tired from searching for it and all you wanted was to eat something and watch the game with Luke.

Deciding to bath with your baby and cook dinner, you sat on the couch to see the game, your stomach churning with the need to be there.

A few minutes into the first half, your mother looked at you from up the stairs.

“I thought you were going back home today?” she teased you, making you frown.

You chose not to answer, paying attention to the game instead. When Mason was finally subbed on you pointed at him, bouncing Luke in your thigh.

“Look at dada, Luke. We’ll see dada soon”

“Dada” he babbled, making you gasp.

“Yeah, dada. It’s your dada” you poked his waist, the teas already forming. Luke couldn’t stop calling for dada once he said it for the first time, and he kept repeating it until the game was over.

You were incredibly sad by the result, knowing you should be at home when Mason gets there so you could hold him and scratch his scalp after his warm bath.

Deciding to sleep early, you waited for your mother to go to her bedroom and carefully brought your bags downstairs before laying with Luke and forcing yourself to sleep, determined to leave the next morning — even if you had to drive like the old ones, asking for instructions and following the signs.

On the other hand, Mason was desperate. He knew from the moment he turned the call off that he needed to apologise for how he talked to you.

But he was angry, stressed and frustrated. He wanted you there, supporting him. Cuddling him after his tiring games, listening to him when he needs to. He wants you there talking about your day, warming the bed, bringing Luke to him after a shower so you can change into your pyjamas.

He wants his family and he can’t cope with the fact they’re not with him.

Mason can’t believe you and Luke weren’t there watching his first goal, and scoring felt bittersweet. He wanted nothing more than to share this moment with you.

Since he met you, Mason knows how hard your mother is. Narcissist, dramatic, always trying to make you feel sorry for hurting her — when you were only setting boundaries.

And he also knows how hard had been for you, not finding the courage to break the circle and move on from her. But in all this time he never had to deal with this, you and his son so far away from him because of a woman who doesn’t even respect her own children.

When he went to bed a few hours after the call, Mason started to worry and he knows you were mad when you didn’t text him before bed, but at the same time he wanted to apologise for the way he talked he still meant everything he said, so he took a deep breath and choose to wait until the next day so he could talk to you properly.

His heart hurt knowing he was going to bed without telling you he loves you, something none of you ever did, but Mason was sure you’d figure it out after the game since you promised you would go, so he did his best to sleep and rest.

—

He looked everywhere. He asked everyone.

You just weren’t there.

When the game ended, Mason just wanted to bring you and his son and tell you he needed you home when he got there. He needed someone he could cry to, someone he could tell how overwhelming being back felt.

All he wanted was to survive the bus drive with all his teammates feeling sorry — for the loss and for him. And then lay in your arms so you could reassure him he’s doing well and that he makes you proud, whilst Luke’s little fingers tried to make him bald.

But they told him you weren’t in the United box and soon he found out you never entered the stadium Mason’s heart twisted.

First he felt a shameful feeling of anger. Why the fuck couldn’t you do this little thing for him? Relationships are supposed to be about making sacrifices and he watched you put yourself first for an entire month, always being understanding. The only thing he expected in return was for you to be there.

And you couldn’t? You say love him so much, but still couldn’t be there?

Then, when he finally showered and changed into some trainers before heading to the bus, Mason was able to check his phone just to see you hadn’t answered his pre-game messages, and quickly his anger turned into worry.

He called you five times, but every call went to voicemail. Mason pondered if you were ignoring him — or if something bad had happened.

Knowing you for four years, he doesn’t think you would give up on your relationship like that. But the way he hung up on you the night before, and how he accused you of not caring about him… he just can’t help but overthink.

With his heart pounding, Mason opened his Instagram app and searched for the only person who could help him, whilst he was forced to come back to Manchester when all he wanted to do was come to you.

—

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke you up, and you checked the hours just to see it was just past 2am. Luke instantly started to cry, and you took him in your arms before rushing downstairs and opening the door to the person you never thought you would see there.

“What are you doing here?” you frowned to your brother.

“Mason called me. Where’s that freak you call your mother?” he said harshly. “Why don’t you answer your phone? Your husband is losing his mind. He thinks something bad happened”

“I’ve been looking for my phone since yesterday morning, I don’t know, it’s vanished” you explained, following him. “Matt! What’s happening?”

“She’s been lying to you, Y/N. She’s probably hiding your phone right now. These are yours?” he pointed to the things you’ve packed, and you nodded. “I was never meant to come back. I told her I was leaving, cause I was tired of the manipulation. I was tired of her telling me my girlfriend doesn’t deserve me or telling me I owe everything I am to her. I owe her nothing”

You could feel the lump already forming in your throat, and you wanted nothing more than to call Mason. Matt silently put your bags in the front door, and soon his girlfriend got out of the car to take them.

“I realised something was wrong” you told him. “And Luke has been feeling sick so I packed, but then the morning I told her I’d go to the game and then head back home I couldn’t find my phone anymore. What Mason told you?”

“Not gonna lie to you, he’s feeling awful. I think he’s been crying, too. He told me you were supposed to go to the game tonight?” he asked, and you nodded, your heart dropping. “He said he tried to call you before and when you ignored him he thought you were still angry, but now that you didn’t show up at Stamford he thinks you either were kidnapped or decided to leave him. There’s only these bags?”

“Yeah” you quickly nodded. “She asked me to spend just a week”

“Compulsive liar” Matt snorted. “Let’s go, get in the car. I’ll take you to my home and we can go to yours in the morning”

You nodded again, but before you could obey him you mother showed up in the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” your mother’s voice made you jump as you were still two kids doing something she wouldn’t approve of.

“Please, don’t. Just go back to your room, I’m taking Y/N’s home”

“You can’t do that!” she raised her voice, trying to show a mother authority she doesn’t have over him anymore.

“What do you mean I can’t do that, you psycho? Leave us alone. You used me for years, I’m not letting you do the same with her”

“Don’t be stupid, Matthew. All I ever asked you was for you to take care of me like I took care of you your whole life. All I ever expected was you both to love me like I loved my childs” she gestured, and you could feel your heart hurting. She’s your mother and you should be so tough with her…

“Why can’t you understand that we have our own family now?” Matt snorted, his big body trying to hide you from your hysterical mother. “Y/N is a mother. She has a child to take care of, she can’t look after you when you’re capable of looking after yourself”

When you realised Luke was about to cry from all the noise, you started to rock him back and forth, trying to protect his ears.

“I am your family. All those years I left my life in standby to raise you. I gave you two food, a home, a warm bed to sleep” your mother shouted, gesturing.

“And as a mother this was exactly what the world expected from you. You did nothing but your obligations. No one asked you to be a mother, so you can’t point your fingers and act like we should be grateful for the simple things you gave us. The minimal” Matt kept his tone low. “But you lacked the essential. The respect for your kids. The love, acceptance. You only love yourself. Now you say we’re not returning everything you did for us but guess what: this is what you did for us. You reap what you sow. You can not raise a child thinking about what they can bring you in the future”

“Everything I’ve done, everything I say is because I care! But go on, make me the villain, take her thy stupid footballer” she turned to face you. “Go back to him and raise this stupid child. Just don’t come back running to mummy when he changes you for a prettier and hotter girl, leaving you with only his clone to remind you of what you’ve lost!”

It was unconscious, the way you left the safe space Matt had created for you and advanced in her direction. You never believed you were capable until it was done, the echo of your hand meeting her cheek spreading in the silent room.

“Talk about me as much as you want. But do never, ever again talk about my husband or my son. Is not our fucking fault dad couldn’t handle your behaviour anymore, and is not our fucking fault he left you for a prettier and hotter woman” you pointed a finger to her face. “I’m done with you. I’m done with you forever, and if cutting you from my life is what I need to do so I won’t be the wife and mother you were, then I’m doing it right now”

“C’mon, Y/N” Matt put a hand on your shoulder, slowly bringing you closer to him. “Let’s go home”

You checked Luke on your arms afraid your impulsive action had hurt him, whilst Matt took you outside.

“She still has my phone-” you realised before you could enter your car.

“Leave it behind, yeah? Mason can buy you a new one. Look at it as a new beginning” he squeezed your shoulders, and it felt like having a brother again.

In that moment you understood that this was what had happened to him, too. That this was the reason he never replied to you anymore.

When Matt left his mother’s house in an attempt to be free, he had to leave everything behind, including you.

You think you won’t ever really understand what it cost him to come back there, but he did it.

He could never leave his little sister behind.

—

You took Luke out from the baby seat before following Alice inside. She came back driving Matt’s car whilst he drove yours, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to her.

Once inside, Matt put you in the biggest guest room of his house, trying his best to make you comfortable. You used the sheets and the pillows to make a fort around Luke, and went downstairs to talk to your brother after so long.

After making you all tea, Alice sat besides him and you genuinely smiled seeing how they clearly completed each other.

You started by explaining to them what she told you in the first place, and how she was trying to keep you there for more and more days every time another week ended. When you told about your fight with Mason, Matt was quick to reassure you that he knows Mase will understand you, but you were still feeling reckless and seeing your husband was the only thing you wanted.

“I tried to contact you” Matt told you shyly. “It’s been months since I left her house, maybe six?”

“Around Luke’s birth” you whispered.

“But I left my phone too. It was a choice I had to make. Since you don’t have an Instagram, I tried Mason’s but-”

“He’s too famous to see your message” you giggled.

“I think he unfollowed me when he thought we weren’t on speaking terms- when you thought we weren’t. He’s a good one, you know?”

“He is” you smiled, thinking about your boy.

“I’ll get the car ready for the trip” he murmured, suddenly looking awkward.

As soon as he left, Alice saw you were still processing your feelings and came to sit near you. After a few seconds in silence, she started to talk.

“You don’t have to love her just because she’s your mother” she told you, holding your hand. “Mothers aren’t saints, Y/N. It’s okay to dislike our mothers when they act bad, when they hurt you. It’s okay to even hate a mother that does no good to her kids”

“But she’s my blood” you told her the same you’ve always told your brother, but as a woman your age Alice understands your feelings and is delicate to answer you.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Do you see Debbie? Matt told me about her, and how much she cares about you. She’s your blood? No. But she’s been treating you better than your blood has” she ran hiii her fingers through your hair. “I know it’s hard to make this decision, but a mother that hurts and lies, a mother that tries to get in the middle of your marriage isn’t a good mother. Just think if you’d ever do to Luke any of the stuff she did to you”

When you looked up your brother was by the door, and you know he’s the only one who actually shares this controversial feeling with you.

“I wanna go home” you sniffed. “To Mason”

“We’ll take you there” Matt assured you, stretching his arms out to you. “But give me a hug first”

“I’m so sorry she got between us” you murmured after hugging him, resting your face on his shoulder.

“Me too. But see? We’re free now, princess. Your big brother is here”

—

When he opened the door for you early in the morning, Mason’s heart dropped. With Matt and his girlfriend waiting in the car, he was sure you were there to pick your stuff and leave.

“Mase?” you called him nervously, since he wouldn’t move or make any indication of hugging you.

“Are you leaving? I- I didn’t mean it you know, I didn’t mean to be rude with you I was just so tired and angry and I came home after training and you weren’t here and I got so pissed off” his voice was shaky and he didn’t stop talking to breath. “And then I thought we could solve things after the game but you weren’t at the game and I tried to call you so many times and I swear I wanted to go there and talk to you but the gaffer told me I was supposed to come back with the team”

You quickly entered the house so your brother wouldn’t be worried. The last thing you needed was him and Alice wanting to stay — you needed to talk with Mason alone, your family needed this time together.

You circled his waist with one arm, the other holding Luke between you two, and waited for him to hug your shoulders. When Mason calmed down you pulled away just so you could look at him.

“What’s going on?” you asked him, a hand going straight to his cheek. “Are you having panic attacks again?”

Mason shook his head, calmer now that you were inside the house and Matt’s car was gone. Luke stretched out his tiny arms to Mason and you instantly passed him to your husband.

“I thought- I saw Matt’s car parked and I thought you were here to take your stuff” he shyly admitted, his cheeks blushing.

“Oh baby, I would never leave you” you ran your fingers through his hair and your heart tightened when he hugged Luke like his life depended on this.

A lonely tear went down his cheek and you brushed it.

“We’re not going anywhere big boy, you can relax. I think you’re close to suffocating him” you giggled, your heart hurting at how tight he was holding Luke.

“Am I?” Mason’s eyes widened as he pulled his son away, to be sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“Sorry, I was just kidding” you laid your head on your husband’s shoulder. “We missed you so much. I’m so sorry, Mase”

When Luke laid his head on daddy’s other shoulder, your eyes watered.

Since you gave him birth, since he grew inside you even, you could never understand how someone could hurt their own child. You would die and kill for him, and you know Mason feels the same way.

Being a mother like yours turned out to be your biggest fear since you saw the first positive test. Now, each day he grows more you’re sure you could never.

You could never treat him like his opinions and wishes aren’t valid. You could never tell him he can’t simply answer you his point of view no matter what, even when you’re wrong. You could never put yourself first when your son depends on you.

“Believe me, I missed you more. The bed was always cold, every night, and the house is so quiet without Luke, the food doesn’t taste the same, there’s not a single drawing in the bathroom wall and everything looks so lifeless” his voice cracked, and you looked at him to see uncountable tears spilling down his face. “Ever again. You’re not leaving my side ever again”

You nodded, trying to reassure him and ease the panic you could see in his eyes. Hugging his waist, you peppered kisses to his jaw, feeling the salty water on your lips.

“We’re not going anywhere, baby. I swear”

Mason’s sobs caught Luke’s attention, and he looked at his dad with the prettiest face you’ve ever seen, full of confusion.

Your words weren’t enough to stop Mason’s breakdown once he was feeling safe to show you how much the last month affected him and his body started to shake, so you guided him to the couch and sat with your back against the arm so he could lay between your legs.

With Luke sitting on one of your legs and Mason’s head resting on the other, you let your husband cry.

“It’s ok, Mase” you scratched his scalp, trying to soothe him. Your heart physically hurt when he clinged to you, hugging your waist tighter. “I’m here now”

“Sorry” he whispered when you started to brush his tears.

“Don’t feel sorry for being hurt, Masey. You can cry to me whenever you need to, I’m here to protect you too”

“You, protecting me?” he giggled, and you smiled at the sound of it. He got up from your lap and gave you a shy smile, stretching his hands out for Luke who immediately tried to go to him.

“Yeah, it’s your turn to be taken care of” you shrugged, giving your baby boy to him.

“Oh so you’ll take care of me?” Mason gave you a smirk and you rolled your eyes playfully before remembering what you wanted to show him the most.

“Daddy is being a naughty boy, Luke. Tell him to be better, uh? Tell dad to behave”

“Da” Luke babbled, and Mason pinched his chubby cheeks.

“One month alone with mum and you already forgot that I’m your partner in crime?”

“Da-dada” he kept going, and you wish you could get Mason’s reaction tattooed, the way he confused eyes looked at you.

“What the fu-“

“Don’t curse” you giggled, covering his mouth, but Mason could hear the sad tone on your voice. “He said if for the first time last night, we were watching the game and I told him we would see dada soon. He can’t stop anymore I guess”

Mason kissed Luke’s cheek, laughing between sobs when he squirmed, giving little screams.

“You have training today?” you whispered, afraid of ruining the moment but Mason shook his head.

“I’ll call the gaffer to explain” he brushed his fingers through Luke’s face.

“I’ll run his bath then” you told your husband before kissing his head and quickly going upstairs, trying to give them some time alone.

In reality, you feel so bad for separating father and son for an entire month. Seeing Mason’s cry made it hit you how bad your actions hurt him, even intentionally.

Imagining how you would feel if it was the opposite, your heart physically hurt with guilt, how hard this month apart was for Mason and you could feel a few hot tears spilling down your face. Now, you can only hope he won’t hold any grudge against you, despite what you did.

Less than ten minutes later, Mason was entering your shared room and walking straight to the en-suite so he could find you.

“Babe? You can’t leave your boys alone, we don’t know how to take care of ourse- ei, what’s wrong?” he cupped your cheek, and just the warmth of his hand was enough to make you feel better.

“Nothing” you shook your head, drying your face with the back of your hand. “Can you take off his clothes?”

“We’ll talk about it once he’s sleeping” Mason kissed your forehead, squeezing your waist. You nodded, letting him go and undress Luke whilst you chose some toys for your son.

You put the toys in the bath, checking again to be sure the water wasn’t too hot and turning around to Mason.

“Can you bathe him?” you asked him and he instantly nodded, holding your waist before you could leave.

“Go bath in the guest bathroom if you need some time alone, yeah?” he caressed your chin, and your heart pounded even more with how gentle he could be with you even though you hurt him.

Since he seems to know you more than you know yourself, you obeyed. Taking what you’d need, you headed to the guest bathroom and took a warm shower.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to let it all go when Mason and Luke weren't around, but you couldn’t. There was just a whole in your chest, but no tears.

After washing your hair in an attempt to feel freshened and lightened, you wrapped yourself in your robe and came back to your room. Mason wasn’t there, so you imagine he was at Luke’s room putting him to sleep, and not wanting to get in the middle of their father and son time you changed in your pyjamas and tucked in bed.

Half an hour ater you still weren’t able to close your eyes, staring the wall. You’ve heard when your husband entered the room and changed from his trainers, wanting to lay down with you.

“You can go to training if you’re not too late, Mase” you told him softly, not wanting him to get in trouble.

“No way” was his only groaned response, and you sighed when Mason cuddled you seconds later, his arm circling your waist.

Your eyes instantly teared up.

“Go on” Mason kissed your shoulder. “You don’t need to hold it, it’s just us”

“I can’t believe she did this” you tried to tell him without crying, but with every little kiss on your shoulder you could feel the breakdown coming. “Lying would’ve been bad enough but hiding my phone? Not caring that Luke was feeling sick- oh we need to take him to Dr. Linn”

“I’ll take care of it. Keep going” he encouraged you, and you couldn’t understand how he was the one left behind for a month but still so worried about you.

“I don’t know why she wanted me there. The entire month, every day she had something bad to say about me or you, or even Luke. Always leaving to see her friends or get drunk, so in the end I was alone most of the time. She hates me and my family, but she still wanted to keep me around for some reason” your eyes were burning at this point, and Mason’s soft skin against yours made you feel safe enough to finally let the tears spill. “I’m so sorry you had to live an entire month without him”

His hug tightened a bit when you sobbed.

“It’s not your fault. And I lived an entire month without you too, you know? You were missed just as badly”

“It is my fault, Mason. You said it yourself, I chose her over my family and I’m really sorry about it. I want you to spend more time with him, make up for lost time”

Mason pulled away just enough so he could helo turn your body to face his, his hand going straight to cup your chin.

“Y/N, what’s that? I don’t wanna spend hours alone with Luke, even though I love him more than anything. I wanna make up for lost time with my family, not only with half of it. I was angry that night, yeah? I was tired and missing you and I was so pissed you weren’t here when I got back home, I just snapped”

“You had every right to” you murmured, his thumbs never stopping with caressing your face.

“And then the next morning you weren’t answering my calls and when the time came you weren’t at the game like you said you would and I was so scared you had given up on us. So during the night I couldn’t sleep and I realised… I know you, I know you wouldn’t deprive me of my son even though you didn’t want to talk to me yourself, so I panicked. I’m sorry I called Matt, he was my only option”

“Matt and I were good” you smiled at him, and the way his eyebrows raised made you giggle. “I could never give up on us, silly. You’re my everything. Not going to bed with you every night, not making your breakfast every morning… it was the worst month of my life”

“That’s why I gotta give you my attention too, babe. You’re my girl, and Luke knows how to share, you know? He’s not selfish”

“Well, I don’t think I deserve your attention. Look what you had to go through for an entire month” you groaned, but Mason just sighed before placing his forehead against yours.

“You were manipulated, by someone you love a lot. You were worried and wanted nothing more than to help her, and I understand that staying away from me was a consequence of what you needed to do in your head, even tho in reality you didn’t have to do anything. I don’t really like your mum but I love mine, and I know the feeling of being able to do anything for her” he held you tighter. “You don’t need to feel guilty about it”

“Mason, you can’t pretend it’s alright. I lost the most important game of the season. I lost your fucking goal. I should’ve been there to support you and then I should’ve been here to comfort you” you chocked, the guilty feeling eating you alive.

“Babe-”

“It’s not ok! And I’d feel better if you just admit it, let me apologise and forgive me” you tried to breath and calm down. “You lost the first time he called for you and it’s my fault”

“We’ll, I’m listening now. And he can’t stop, isn't it adorable? The tiny human we made. With so much love” he kissed your forehead. “I missed you so much I think I feel like making another one any time”

“Mason!” you gasped, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

“What? The day we made Luke was so hot. A mess, but incredibly hot” he closed his eyes, licking his lips and you had to look away with flaming cheeks. You know exactly the day you got pregnant since it happened in a month you and Mason only got to sleep together once. Mason laid on his back and helped you lay half of your body on top of his. “Fine, baby. Let me hear your apologies”

“I’m really sorry for missing your first goal. You have no idea how awful I feel, because I should be there to celebrate it with you, to scream loud with the fans, to show how proud I was. And I’m sorry I lost the most important game for you. I hope you know I would never do that on purpose, and we wanted to be there for you. But I watched on TV and I’m so proud of you. You did so well with the time you had, and I’m sorry about the general result. You were so pretty though”

“Was I?”

“I’m starting to understand the hair now” you giggled. “It filled my tummy with butterflies”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna make another baby? Because you’re sounding like you do” he teased. “You’re forgiven, princess. And I don’t wanna you beating yourself about it, yeah? I already told you, I understand what happened and how stuck you were. It’s your family, after all”

“No” you shook your head, clinging even more against him. “You are my family. You and Luke”

“And the babygirl we’re gonna make soon?”

“Stop” you groaned, burying your face in his bare chest. “I want another one too”

“Really?” he pouted, and you could never say no to him.

“We could try your girl or start the Mason Mount FC” you hummed, content when he kissed you.

“Perfect” he murmured, lips brushing yours softly. You stared into his eyes, smiling when he raised his eyebrows. “Wanna start trying now? Cause I honestly missed you so much-”

“Shut up” you giggled, relaxing in his embrace. Brushing your nose against his neck, you inhaled the after shave smell and focused on how soft his neck is.

After a few minutes appreciating his warmth, you allowed yourself to sleep deeply, finally in your home. Where you are loved for who you are, not for what you can offer. Where you are wanted and your presence is valid. Where you feel safe.

Not your perfect three store white house, no. Your home. Mason Mount.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount x you #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount fics

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mo-aiki · 4 months

Text

Duke Augustus Swanson of the North

Summary: Your fiance and how he had reacted to your sudden change in behavior. As he looks back on the past, he wonders how long has he seen your smiling face with content and affection.

Warning: obessive behavior, mentions of violence, obvious implications of bullyin, I don't condone it, I just write it

A/N: ART NOT MINE, IT'S THE MALE LEAD OF THE MANHWA SECRET LADY

Connected to Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

For as long as he could remember, Augustus never liked you.

Not a single bit.

The daughter of a count and a generational promise between his grandfather and yours that didn't suffice. His parents were both dead from a carriage accident, and as such, his grandfather took him in and forced him into this marriage. The first time he had met you, he was enchanted by your looks (even if both of you were 8 years old). Your (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes enchanted him, but it soon all came crashing down onto him once your parents left the room, and your true personality was revealed. Even at a young age, he was already being tugged on by young ladies and their families wanting to up their status or rank in noble society, no matter the age. And you were no different in your affections.

Seducing him with sweets.

Yelling at ladies in your way.

"Accidentally" spilling a dark grape juice on a lady's ballgown because he had conversed with her for an hour and found her remotely interesting to talk to.

Trying to talk to him about anything.

Being near him and showing public displays of affection.

Clinging onto a promise, he vowed to break.

He was bored of someone like you. You who were no different than the other ladies who had tried to seduce him. Your mannerisms, your personality, and your ideas, they were all the same to him.

No matter how many times you'd court him, even if it took 5 years to reach, he felt absolutely nothing.

His heart didn't pang, his cheeks and ears didn't flush, his breathing was perfectly normal, and the words out of his mouth cut through like usual.

Nothing would change in your relationship with him. He had planned to break it off and just die alone with no heir or find someone he had mutual interest in.

Nothing will change and he was certain nothing will ever change between the 2 of you.

Until the day you had contracted a deathly high fever.

Augustus was surprised to hear about you 3 days after getting the envelope from your family. He had thought it was you, sending it like you were your father. But his butler forced him to open it.

Dear Young Master Augustus,

I am here to inform you of the cancelation of next Thursday's meeting with my daughter. You see, my daughter has contracted a high fever due to the flu season being prevalent. She is unable to attend the meeting and I would like it if you visit her in order to wish her as speedy recovery. I know that is rather a selfish thing to ask for, but my daughter has been requesting your presence ever since she contracted it. I would like to ask you to please see my daughter and wish for her speedy recovery.

Sincerely,

Count (l/n).

He thought, why not visit. To see you die and his engagement to be break off, would be a euphoric day for him.

He visited you, and was by your side in your room. Pink, frilly and full of girly stuff. He disliked it, but somehow found it cute. You in your lace nightgown, and your face all red but with a cold towel on your head. He had received the news that your fever had been so high, that you had been in a coma now.

He left, because he had nothing else to do there. 'I hope she dies so I can get out of this wretched engagement...' he thought with the coldest stare imaginable.

Your behavior has changed after that fever.

Augustus was not the first one to notice such a change in behavior. Your once smug and arrogant expression, was replaced with a confused and softer one.

It was more bearable.

Everything about you became toned down. Spending time together was less of a pain in the neck, and over time, he started caring about you, little by little.

He started noticing your favorite things, like, for example, your favorite desserts, flowers, places to converse, color, toys, and even down to the accessories you liked to adorn yourself with.

Your cute mannerisms and habits that he can't help but lightly tease at. "Why do you do such things..?" He said, a bit too loud.

"Do what?" You asked, confused.

He wiped away a spot of whipped cream on your cheek and licked it. Watching your face blush in embarrassment was sure worth the move he pulled. Even if he was 13 at the time.

As both of you grew up, he'd soon see how people reacted around you. He sure saw the difference. You turned more beautiful as you matured in age. Your personality grew, and your smile was more bright. He wanted to be the only one to notice these changes and monopolize it for himself, but everyone else around you could now see it. First, your childhood friend. The son of a low ranking Earl. He thought of nothing with him, but he did annoy him. His consistent pestering and hopeless looks made you always include him in your dates.

He absolutely took in the fact that the boy always looked at him with disdain and envy. And he did as well. His close bond with you, and how close he could get to you without you making a fuss, fumed him.

But once you got older, everyone, and he felt everyone started to take notice of you. Men staring at your maturing body with eyes full of lust, women staring with jealousy, children taking notice of your pretty face, and the consistent flirting from everyone, and he felt like everyone.

Men bumping into you, "supposedly on accident," and striking up a conversation, you looked bored in. Women stealing your attention with the gossip of the nobility and even flirting themselves. Children always begging and crying for attention if you did not provide enough for them. He was sick of it.

The son of a small count was always consistently flirting with you. Asking about your day, favorite color, favorite jewels, hobbies, it was almost as if he had forgotten you had a fiance right next to you.

He couldn't help but say a couple of threats towards him, and when that didn't work, he planned for his carriage to be ran into, paying the driver to run away to another country with 10,000 gold paid for him.

But he wasn't the only one. Many men of lowly rank kept on coming, and he threatened them. If that didn't work, they mysteriously died in the next few days. All evidence of the perpetrator, erased from sight.

He could get rid of all of his enemies, but 2. Her childhood best friend and the war hero turned personal guard.

The son of an Earl was sneaky, cunning, and someone whose death would greatly affect her. She would be broken before he ever got the chance to be with her. And the personal guard. A war hero. Someone who is well versed in strength and is not shaken by mere threats he could ever make.

Nothing ever seemed to work to get rid of them, other than the fact that he was your fiancé. So all he needed to do was shower you with love (which he already did and is currently doing). He gives you gifts of jewels, books and stuff for your hobbies, he always has his hand around your waist when out and about. He is always watching what you do. He listen in on your conversations, whether they be rants, boring or awkward small talk. And most of all, he is always here when he can be.

But he was surprised when you all of the sudden brought up annulment.

You had wanted to annul your engagement with him.

He spent all night after such a ground-breaking announcement, awake and thinking of all the possibilities of why you would ever want to break off your engagement with him. All he could think of were the 2 men who were close to you.

"It's all their faults...I need to marry her soon..." he mumbled as he got up and got a paper, pen and his favorite quill.

A/N: Should I do the other guys? This is connected to my previous post so I hoped you enjoyed it. Sorry it took so long to post another story.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere duke x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere duke #yandere x you

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jelly-of-many-ships · 8 months

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COMPLETE OFMD S2 CONTENT LIST:

To anyone looking for a complete list of trailers, vids, and photos released for OFMD season 2, here ya go.

(I’m not rly active on anything other than tumblr rn so i’m sry if I missed smth)

! LINKS CONTAIN SPOILERS !

So, first of all we have the official teaser trailer, released on August 30th: TEASER LINK

On September 14th we finally got the full length trailer. I’m assuming we’ve all seen these already: TRAILER LINK

There was a promo vid containing new s2 scenes that some people were getting on their TVs and recording and uploading to twitter. What some people don’t know is that that the official OFMD facebook account recently uploaded the same promo thats actually good quality and not just recording off a tv screen. Anyways if there’s a scene you’ve been seeing but it wasn’t in the trailer or teaser, its probably here: PROMO VID LINK

Here’s the links to some of those twitter vids if you don’t know what i’m talking about: twitter vid, twitter vid, These have the same content as the facebook link, just shitty quality.

Oh also Vico Ortez (plays Jim) posts a lot of s2 things on their tiktok. Nothing with spoilers just BTS (not the k-pop band I swear to god) I guess this doesn’t count but some of it’s rly funny: Vico Ortez tiktok

PHOTOS:

The first batch of season 2 photos we got were from Vanity fair on august 24th, but those photos plus a bunch of others are now available together somewhere i’ll say in a sec. Here is the article that showed us the first look at s2: VANITY FAIR ARTICLE

So, warner bros discovery gave us an *almost* complete collection of currently released photos. This does include the vanity fair photos but most of these you can’t find anywhere else. they say which episode every photo is from and let you download them too which is pretty cool. The site also has some great articles in the media releases section but they’re not that relevant. Go to the images section to see the s2 pics: S2 PHOTO COLLECTION

The final thing I found was the exclusive photo “The Streamr” posted on twitter. In fact there’s this whole thing happening with the OFMD twitter fandom and The Streamr and apparently they’ve posted exclusive photos that aren’t in the Warner Bros collection. Once again I am not actively on twitter so I don’t really know that much. I was only able to find one exclusive image posted by them but if there are any more please let me know. THE STREAMR EXCLUSIVE PHOTO

EDIT: found another photo on twitter! YET ANOTHER EXCLUSIVE PHOTO

EDIT: There’s a S2 behind the scenes vid from the max YouTube channel and it’s got so many extra clips it’s practically a third trailer!!! Also apparently there are some more articles that just released and I’m a bit busy rn but I’ll find and add them soon behind the scenes vid

EDIT: OMG THE MAX YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED A SCENE FROM EPISODE 1 AND IZZYS CRYING AND THE CREW IS COMFORTING HIM ITS CANON S2E1 SCENE

that is all that I personally know of but if there is anything else you think should be included please add it or lmk, I want this to be a complete list. If anything new comes out I will try my best to add that as well.

I was pretty confused where everyone was getting all the s2 info and I couldn’t find a complete list anywhere so I decided to make my own. hope this cleared it up for anyone else🤗

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ingravinoveritas · 8 months

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Hi! need some reassurance here. Am i the only one who is sad because we don’t know if we are gonna to see Michael and David working together again? Between the strike (which I totally support) and amazon not renewing GO, nothing is certain right now. I just miss them, i miss the interviews and i need new content. Note aside, I really don’t like the personal content that GT is posting on IG, like the video of David at the festival. Maybe it’s because I’m still new to the fandom and I’m not British, so i’ve a very different kind of humor, but her content somehow irk me… I don’t know. And don’t let me start talking about AL: she seems so phony and rude and i get nothing but bad vibes from her. Why does she always mock Michael’s appearance? I know, it’s none of my business 😅 So yeah… sorry about the rant!

Hi there! Grouping these together, since I'm a bit overdue in addressing some of this.

So as of this writing, the WGA strike has been resolved (hooray!) and the writers are back to work (including Neil, whom I believe is returning to writing GO season 3). SAG-AFTRA (of which Michael and David are both members) is continuing its strike, however, but hopefully it will also be resolved soon.

That said, I am definitely with you in feeling sad about not knowing when Michael and David will work together again. I believe the renewal for S3 is still pending, so it is indeed a time of uncertainty. My hope is that if/when the SAG strike is resolved, we might perhaps get some interviews with Michael and David that we otherwise were unable to get when GO 2 first came out. It may be too late to promote the season, of course, but we have to remember that earlier this year, Michael was popping up on nearly all of David's TV appearances (The Last Leg, Have I Got News For You), so even if a formal project isn't currently in the works, it hopefully won't be too long before we have the chance to see them together again.

To the rest of your Ask and @phantomstars24's, I've had multiple people asking me about what happened with Anna and her being called out, so for those who might've missed it, what occurred was that two weeks ago, someone left a comment on one of AL's Insta posts (the one with the photos from the "family holiday" in Sweden the weekend prior) calling her out for her repeated comments about Michael's appearance over the last few years:

Several comments from people defending AL/attacking the commenter followed these, and the next morning, she responded with this comment (not on the chain of already existing comments, but separately):

My initial impression was to be surprised that she responded at all. If the callout commenter's words truly meant nothing and weren't worth responding to, why say anything? But AL chose to reply, and that was her decision, so here we are. What is strange to me, though, is that she also chose to flat-out lie about something easily provable, given that her comments about Michael's appearance have all been well-documented on her Insta and Twitter over the past three years.

The second thought that came to mind is that this seemed like another attempt on her part at being Georgia--i.e., wanting/trying to give a witty "clapback" to a criticism. Instead, her comment comes across as insecure and insincere, with "magnificent hair growth" being a particularly egregious example of laying it on thick (who even talks like that? No one talks like that.). I was truly surprised to realize this comment was written by an almost 30-year-old woman, as it reads more like a teenager having a fit--though in fairness, there are plenty of teenagers who are far more mature than this.

There is also the notion that we are or somehow should be jealous of the "banter" in her and Michael's relationship, except that this misses two key points. One, that it's one thing for Michael to be self-deprecating about his looks--and that even if he is, it doesn't mean he doesn't feel hurt and is therefore possibly making those comments as a deflection--but it's something else entirely for her to make them. It speaks volumes about her character that she would see/hear him saying these things about himself and instead of wondering if he is okay, decides that it gives her the go-ahead to add to it and snark about his appearance. So many of us have felt self-conscious about our looks at one time or another, but without any response from him, it comes across less like "mutual banter" and more like "one person progressively making passive-aggressive cutting comments over time about the other." Which brings us to the second key point, which is that "in-jokes" are only funny to the people who are in on them, and similarly, banter is only mutual if we are able to see his end of it. The problem is, we never do. Michael does not interact with her on social media (even from his "private account," which many of us have known about for years, as he used to use it to interact with Kate, Sarah, and Lily all the time, yet he doesn't use it to interact with AL, for some reason).

Curiously, this would have been a perfect moment for Michael to do exactly that, or to say something on Twitter in her defense. Of course it is entirely possible that he felt he didn't need to say anything--which is his prerogative, just as it was AL's prerogative to respond. But it's quite interesting to realize that at the same exact time AL wrote that comment, Michael was on Twitter talking about touching David's chest and referring to him as the Thin Dark Duke, and then kept tweeting about GO fandom stuff for the next three hours. Choices.

All this to say that, in my opinion, there was nothing genuine or graceful about AL's comment. And again, you could say well sure, she felt attacked, so there was no obligation to stand on ceremony or mince words. It's just interesting that her comment went in the direction of defensive and sarcastic instead of saying something like, "Michael and I love each other and can handle a bit of teasing." And I truly do hope Michael's fans who rushed to her defense take a step back and realize that she is not a nice person. This is not how a nice person, regardless of who they are dating, talks to other human beings. And she will never reply to them or thank them for doing so because to her, they are a means to an end.

In any case, there was a recap of the callout/clapback situation with AL, for anyone who missed it. To your comments @nightingalecottage, please do not apologize for ranting. As I've said before, I want my blog to be somewhere folks can have these discussions calmly and civilly, and I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to message me with your thoughts. And as always, I'm very aware that I could be wrong about all of this, so I urge folks to read what is here and decide for themselves. Thanks for writing in! x

#nightingalecottage #phantomstars24 #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #choices #not all of them good #trying to provide a balanced perspective #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #also notice again that GT said nothing when AL was called out #the whole thing just gives the vibe of keeping up appearances #but what's the old saying: when someone shows you who they are believe them the first time #anna lundberg #discourse

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arceespinkgun · 13 days

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The Sci-Fi Racism of MTMTE/LL

As I've reread MTMTE/LL I've been struck by the offensive content and messaging, particularly the constant ableism and racism. The ableism I've seen discussed (though I really do think it needs to be mentioned more because wow it is relentless and does not get better throughout the story), but the racist themes don't seem to be mentioned quite as often. I think this is for a lot of reasons, and one is probably that the cast being robots is sort of obscuring connections to real-world marginalized peoples.

But one of the most meaningful purposes for the sci-fi genre in general is to explore these issues through symbolism and allegory, placing real-world people in speculative scenarios, theorizing about the future etc. And I think when you look at what MTMTE/LL is saying about race with its themes it's a lot of extremely negative stuff—I doubt the messaging is intentional, but in my opinion that kinda makes it even more important to talk about it....

The Cold-Constructed

I'm going to begin this post by giving context for people who don't know anything about this story. In these series, it often comes up that there's more than one way for a transformer to be created. The main ways are forging, when the planet itself imbues the malleable metal of a protoform with a spark, and cold-construction, when an existing spark is split, put inside a photonic crystal, and put into a body that's pre-built. There's a lot of bigotry surrounding these origins for transformers, which is a clear parallel to real-world racism. I mean, you can see the word "apartheid" being used to describe the treatment of the cold-constructed, and the use of a slur for that group ("knockoffs") in the panel at the beginning of this post.

It's a commonly held belief that being forged is just better and being cold-constructed is just worse, that someone who's cold-constructed is just more likely to be morally bad, less able to do precise work, and more disposable than the forged. For example, at the beginning of MTMTE, Ratchet is worried about his hands locking up because he doesn't think they can be replaced by building new ones, that only forged hands are good enough for a great doctor.

There's a lot of internalized ableism that can be read into this too but this post is already so long I'm going to just focus on racism

The big end-of-the-season villain of MTMTE is Tyrest, the former Autobot Chief Justice turned neutral, who was the one who created the cold-construction process, and who also created a computer he thought could determine anyone's guilt. He used the computer during war crime trials he presided over, and discovered 100% of defendants who were declared guilty had been cold-constructed. Breaking from the guilt he felt, thinking he'd created an immoral, inferior race, he tries to kill all cold-constructed people.

Thwarting Tyrest's plot to kill the cold-constructed was the final battle of the first season of MTMTE.

The cold-constructed person letting the heroes know about Tyrest's plan in the panel right above this is Getaway. He is also an MTO. MTOs ("made-to-order soldiers") are an even lower class within the lower class that is cold-constructed. MTOs, as you'd expect, were bots built specifically as wartime fodder, sent out into the battlefield with a life expectancy in the range of seconds, often before their bodies and minds were even functional. As the war between Autobots and Decepticons raged on, they were even imbued with less and less cultural knowledge, because in the minds of their creators, what did it matter if they were going to immediately be killed anyway? Brainstorm's an MTO, too—in the panel at the start of this post, he's lying about attending protests in the name of the cold-constructed. He's masquerading as an ally there, but it's revealed soon after that he's also cold-constructed himself.

Let's pause for a moment. Assuming you know nothing about MTMTE/LL, what do you think the story would depict when it comes to this oppressed race? I feel like I would expect that the beliefs of the main characters that these people are inferior and immoral would be challenged! I'd expect the cold-constructed and MTOs especially to be saving the day. I'd expect an exploration into why 100% of bots found guilty in those trials were of this marginalized group—a discussion of a prison pipeline that benefits the privileged, maybe? Signs that the computer used was biased because it was created by someone privileged and programmed with biases? Maybe a discussion of how the oppressed were pushed to commit crimes to survive because of the systems keeping them marginalized?

Do these things happen? Er... well... not really, no. Shockingly, Tyrest's assumptions are never challenged despite his villain status and a lot of time being devoted to thwarting his plot? And the people who defeat him, like Tailgate, Rodimus, and Magnus, were all forged. Tyrest was Magnus's former boss and mentor, and Magnus realizing he needs to be stopped is super important, but Magnus never challenges any of these beliefs about the cold-constructed or anything even though Magnus's entire personality involves being super focused on ethics?

I also think it's notable that when Tyrest activates the killswitch, the only characters from the main cast who are affected are Chromedome, Brainstorm, and Getaway. Chromedome and Brainstorm are Autobots who worked together in a system that forcibly lobotomized thousands of people. (There's a lot I could say about the minor and other characters JRo chose to be affected by the killswitch, like how many of them are evil and how they're all treated by different narratives, but that's beyond the scope of this post.)

Getaway, while not having done anything immoral yet by this point in the story, goes on to become a central villain. In fact, Getaway is one of the most despised characters in the entire TF franchise because of how depraved and manipulative he becomes. His arc involves a self-righteous crusade to remove Rodimus and Megatron from the Lost Light and show up Rodimus by completing his quest before him. Getaway is a self-admitted groomer and murderer who does things like murdering his second-in-command by ripping him apart, tearing his head off with the spine still attached and getting energon all over the floor. Oh, and brainwashing hundreds of people.

Pictured: the brain stems of crew members Getaway kills in just one of his many crimes

When Getaway's eventually gruesomely killed, it's all forged people who come to confront him (Rodimus, Cyclonus, and Whirl). I think fans might say that this couldn't be racist messaging because Rodimus comes to think better of killing Getaway and tries to save him, but then Getaway still tries to kill Rodimus and Cyclonus and is killed by Whirl for that... but like, imagine if these characters weren't robots and were instead real people. If the horrible villain was someone from a marginalized group (who had even been tortured for it by a genocidal villain) and all the people who confront him and the person who eventually kill him were people from a privileged group, there would be issues with that. Plus, Rodimus saved Getaway to be "better" than him morally.

I "loved" how right before Getaway's attempted suicide and then actual death, the narrative makes sure to underline that he's an MTO, which makes it impossible to not think about MTOs during this scene

Plus, Getaway's even something like a class traitor. He wants to be validated by Primus so bad, he teams up with Tyrest, the genocidal guy who had tortured him earlier!!! I thought this was a bizarre series of writing decisions to make regarding a character who was introduced as a victim and part of an oppressed group.

One moment that shocked me occurs when we get the first exploration of what being an MTO means. Basically, there's some convoluted sci-fi crisis happening, and everybody needs to reveal their origins. Some characters, like Getaway and Riptide, talk about being MTOs.

Nautica, a very consistent moral voice throughout this story (whose points are often ignored by other characters unfortunately but still), is also in the room. She's from Caminus, a colony world, and missed the whole War. A large part of her story arc will involve how she's not used to experiencing war and death. So does she have some big concerns about Cybertron's culture upon hearing this? Nope:

She would not fucking say that

Instead, her reaction is to immediately look at the guy who started the War, Megatron, and credit him for being responsible for so many lives. What. She's also weirdly not fazed when learning about how the superiors of MTOs eventually just stopped supplying them with cultural knowledge because it was expected they'd immediately die after coming online, and these horrible facts are really not discussed again:

I also want to point out that Riptide is a good character who's an MTO who in my opinion really doesn't do anything immoral, but he was still aligned with Getaway's mutiny initially and is quite literally diagnosed with stupid, which doesn't do a lot to challenge prevailing assumptions about MTOs in Cybertronian culture.

Brainstorm's status as an MTO becomes a plot point again during his character arc, in which he invents time travel and tries to go back in time to prevent the War in order to save everyone who died during it. When he sees that it seems like nothing he does is preventing the War, he resorts to trying to kill Megatron, but he's easily talked out of it because he doesn't want to murder anyone.

On paper, it sounds like Brainstorm's goodness might disprove cultural assumptions about people like him. But I do want to point out that when Nautica (who again, is a strong moral voice) feels very betrayed by all the secrets Brainstorm kept from her, Ratchet convinces her to give him a second chance by pointing out that since Brainstorm's an MTO, if he'd prevented the War, he'd have been erased from existence. This is portrayed as a selfless, moral act, and not as a self-destructive cry for help, which I think is a poor choice, but worse, the narrative never even brings up the fact that Brainstorm would've not only erased himself, but all MTOs!

Okay, if bigoted assumptions about the morality and mentality of MTOs isn't something effectively challenged by the story, well, are the claims that forged people are physically more skilled ever challenged? Not really, no. Genuinely, I don't think that ever comes up. Megatron does perform a spark surgery somehow better than actual trained doctors First Aid and Velocity could do near the story's end, but Megatron's someone who was neither forged nor cold-constructed. He has a forged spark in a pre-built body, which given that bigoted assumptions about the cold-constructed are never really addressed by the narrative, lends itself to jokes like, "The cold-constructed body killed 100 billion people, but the forged spark was super sad about it!"

Rodimus describes Megatron's origin

EDITED TO ADD: There is also a skilled cold-constructed Decepticon neurosurgeon, Spinister... but the way other characters, even his closest friends, consistently treat him is that he is an idiot in every other respect in a way that feels very ableist. It's similar to the way Riptide is treated and his portrayal falls short of challenging the stereotypes, but even more extreme (personally, nothing Spinister ever did or said actually came across as stupid to me, but I'm fairly certain that his actions are supposed to seem that way).

Organic Life

Surprisingly given that this is a story about transformers, I actually think some of the most racist messaging in these series has to do with organic beings, not even with the robots! Some of the most shockingly racist moments, at least.

Something that's often discussed in MTMTE/LL is a concept called "technoism," the belief that mechanical beings are superior to organic ones, and that mechanical beings should commit genocide against organic species. This is a belief tied to Decepticons, and Megatron was the first big proponent of this idea. In fact, Megatron is stated to have killed 100 billion (!!!) organics, including driving multiple species to extinction.

Tarn (evil leader of the Decepticon Justice Division) recounts Megatron's desire to purge all organic life

Now, I feel like people who've read this story might be surprised to see that I feel this concept was handled in ways that promote racist messaging, considering the story repeatedly points out that technoism is bad and that Megatron was wrong. Some portion of Megatron's character development involves instead choosing to save organic life.

Unfortunately, I really felt this was extremely clumsily handled. A major Decepticon character who remains a Decepticon, Fulcrum, is especially disgusted by organic life. In one of the most shocking moments in this entire story, Fulcrum basically tells Tarn, "Life was so much better back when we Decepticons did ethnic cleansing, before mean bullies like you ruined it":

The shocking thing to me is that this is portrayed as a... noble act, I suppose I could put it? Everything is framed as if Fulcrum is doing something heroic in this moment. Disconcertingly, after this moment, Fulcrum is repeatedly used by the narrative as a sort of moral voice when talking to his fellow Decepticons. Whenever they're doing something unethical, he's almost always the first to speak against it. Yeah, ethnic cleansing guy, pre-any character development, is used as a moral compass.

Now, if his belief that organics are inferior and disgusting and deserve to die was challenged and he grew, that would be one thing. But he still finds them just as gross by the end of the entire story.

Similarly, another Decepticon who gets to team up with the heroes and get a happy ending is Nickel, herself a former member of the Decepticon Justice Division, and a strong believer in technoism. She joined the DJD to get revenge against organics who destroyed the colony she comes from. Even by the end of the story, it's clear that she despises organic life.

The very strange thing is that Nickel and Fulcrum are never shown to change these philosophies, but then join the fight against functionists who want to cleanse the universe of non-mechanical life... but there's nothing ever shown to indicate that they wouldn't agree with that plan themselves...?

Another moment that displays issues with how this story handles these concepts is a little interlude with the organic-operated Galactic Council:

On the surface, not much is happening, but this is one of my most hated moments. Why? Because the implication is that organic life, this group of beings that Megatron committed staggering, multiple genocides against, is now preventing his character growth journey. That the narrative's taking time to dedicating a whole scene to showing oh, organics can be bad and extort people too! There's "moral complexity" here!!! I really hope I don't need to explain why that's gross and extremely dangerous to apply as a lesson to any sort of real-world situation.

Other

There are other details in this series that feel racist that wouldn't necessarily fit into the other sections of this post.

I wanted to talk about Ten. Ten is a legislator, a non-transformer robot originally programmed by Tyrest to be a non-sentient law enforcer. However, after Tyrest's defeat, Swerve reprograms Ten to be his... well... slave. I mean it, Swerve makes him a worker at the bar who Swerve doesn't pay. Other people like Ratchet and Ultra Magnus try to convince Swerve he shouldn't treat Ten like this, but that isn't enough to get Swerve to stop.

Worse, Whirl etches graffiti onto Ten's back saying he "failed the Ambus Test," which is a test that measures sapience in-universe.

Now, eventually Swerve and everybody else does accept that Ten is sapient and Swerve feels bad about what he did to him, but Ten continues to be treated badly in general by people like Rodimus.

When Ten later dies, no time is spent mourning him. Also, nobody ever removed that damn statement that was etched on his back.

I also wanted to mention Drift. He was originally created by writer Shane McCarthy in the IDW comics before these series, and he's heavily Asian-coded, particularly Japanese-coded. Unfortunately, Drift was considered a real Poochie the Dog of TF for a long time by fans, a real Mary Sue, you could say, and it wasn't until MTMTE/LL when James Roberts began writing him that his reputation changed for the better.

...Unfortunately, included in JRo's new direction for Drift's character is repeated mocking of his spirituality. This does get slightly less extreme over time, but that doesn't erase how for the entire first season especially he's made the butt of jokes for it, and the end of MTMTE/LL even confirms that his beliefs were wrong, essentially. It confirms that the gods he believed in both didn't exist and were heavily morally compromised. Combine this with the fact that Drift is so Asian-coded and I feel that it comes across as racist.

Worse, while Drift already had a backstory, JRo wrote a new one for him that can be read to play into offensive, Orientalist stereotypes. JRo shows that Drift was originally a drug addict who earned money by renting out his body parts, an act that feels like a robot equivalent of prostitution. JRo even made jokes about this on his Twitter account, joking about Drift literally renting out his "thighs" for people.

None of this surprises me necessarily especially given the long history of English Orientalism, but it still sucks, and fandom's fixation on this aspect of Drift's character also sucks (especially the tendency to make this prostitution allegory literal), especially for someone like me who is part Asian.

Another, pretty bizarre and racist thing in Lost Light specifically that I don't really know how to categorize involves a minor villain from that series. When Nautica wants to bring her best friend, Skids, back from the dead, she goes to someone who claims she'll take Nautica's grief in return for using a Cybertronian artifact to bring Skids back to life.

This villainous character's name is... sigh... Mengel. If you don't know, Mengel is named after real-world Nazi Josef Mengele, infamous for the horrific human experimentation he performed on prisoners in one of the Auschwitz concentration camps. As if this weren't in bad taste already, none of the real-world crimes against humanity have anything to do with the character in this comic I'm talking about—the character Mengel was named this just for shock value and so readers would have the immediate realization that she's an evil scientist.

But this really bad taste isn't even the main thing I wanted to say about her. The main thing I wanted to point out is that she's actually part of a different race of mechanical beings that Cybertronians consider inferior. Even the generally very morally good Nautica (and of course, this is a belief that is not challenged in any way)!

Plus, this villain has darker "skin" than most of the transformers present in these series, and she has buck teeth with a tooth gap. All of these details combined other her in a racialized way, and I hope it's obvious how disturbing it is to pair these traits with the name of a real-world virulently racist Nazi historical figure.

Conclusion and TL;DR

In this story, it's not enough that a genocidal person like Tyrest is a bad guy or that the genocidal Megatron changes his ways when even the characters often cast as moral voices in most situations like Ratchet, Nautica, and Fulcrum have racist assumptions about the world that the narrative just doesn't really make any attempt to disprove or challenge them on. Or worse, that the narrative sometimes seems to validate with characters like Getaway, (sigh) Mengel, or the Galactic Council. And on a personal note, it's especially frustrating to me as someone who loves characters like Nautica. If she appears a surprising number of times in this post, it's because I'm attentive to her and how the story uses her, because I really like her!!!

Now, obviously, I don't think that stories have to address and defy all bigoted ideas and statements that inform the culture they're set in. But I believe that the people behind these series think the messages of these series are anti-racist and anti-fascist. In fact, one of the issues was even titled "This machine kills fascists," real-world slogan of singer Woodie Guthrie. Plus, I think it might be easy to think that with so much representation of, say, gay and trans people, that this story would have more positive messaging, especially when villains include racists and fascists. But I think MTMTE/LL show a real lack of understanding of the roots of these real-world issues and often reinforce the beliefs that contribute to them. In fact, when I reread these comics, every time some racist idea that's never ever challenged or adequately discussed came up, I tallied it up, then converted the number to dollars and donated the amount to helping displaced Palestinian children. I would love it if I could inspire some fans to donate as well! There’s a wide range of vetted links here.

I'm being so critical of these series not only because I rarely ever see the racism pointed out, but also because it's important to note it so these issues can be avoided in the future. In these comics, I actually think it would have been very easy to avoid these problems that plague the narrative. The bigotry behind Tyrest's philosophy could've been pointed out, maybe even by the people most affected by it. Drift's new backstory didn't have to be one featuring Orientalist tropes. The central villain didn't have to be someone who was a marginalized victim. Characters like Fulcrum didn't have to be portrayed as moral voices while simultaneously in the same breath talking about ethnic cleansing like it's a good thing, and they could have grown and changed in a natural way! etc. None of these things had to be like this.

#transformers idw #maccadam #my analysis #racism #negative #there's so much more but I didn't want this to be even longer than it is #long post #like really long

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vikenticomeshome · 2 months

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Cyberchase - The "What's Hacker's Secret?" content (part 2)

Alright, let's try this again. Here is the second part of the content that was promoting the "Transformatron" arc. We can see an issue of Cyberspace News here. The main story is Buzz and Delete being interviewed about Hacker's upcoming plans. They know nothing. We knew this already.

I'm going to transcribe the interview in full.

What's Hacker's Secret? Sam Vander Rom's EXCLUSIVE Interview with Buzz & Delete

Sam: Buzz and Delete, you're the Hacker's henchmen. His simpering sidekicks. How come you're talking to me?

Delete: Well, the boss isn't talking to us much these days. We're lonely.

Buzz: Yeah, he's always shut up in his secret lab. ays we can't come in. That we'll ruin everything.

Sam: Maybe you guys should talk to that Cybertv talk show host Dr. Bill. He's good at helping people.

Delete: We should do that, Buzzy!

Buzz: Yeah, maybe we should, Dee-dee.

Sam: So what do you think Hacker's doing in his secret lab?

Delete: I think maybe he's making something.

Sam: Like what?

Buzz: Maybe a machine. He's always hammering and it sounds like he's putting stuff together.

Sam: Interesting. A new Hacker contraption.

Delete: Remember, Buzzy, how he got so excited when he found all those tiny bits of paper? He made me go get some tape. Then he taped them all together.

Buzz: Yeah, that's right, Dee-dee. The paper had a picture of a big machine. Like they were plans or something.

Sam: What does this new machine do?

Delete: Maybe it makes donuts, Buzzy! You'd like that.

Buzz: I dunno. I think it's more important-like. The boss is a pretty smart borg. I bet it'll do something no one's seen before.

Delete: We better not say anymore. The boss might get mad!

Sam: You heard it here first, folks. The Hacker's up to no good! This reporter fears we'll see a new Hack Attack very soon! The interview with Buzz and Delete ends

I think The Hacker would have been okay with this interview. Buzz and Delete really just served to hype up his latest invention, while giving no useful information about how to stop it.

Anyway, I'll transcribe Erica Ram's piece about Slider and his missing dad.

Personal & Up Close by Erica Ram

Heartbreak Kid

There is no sadder story in Cyberspace than the tale of a teenborg from Radopolis named Slider. His father, the brilliant and talented Coop, was forced to flee his home years ago after a disagreement with who else - that old meanie Hacker. Coop hasn't been seen or heard from since, but we have it on good authority that young Slider is still looking for his dad. "If anyone can find him, it's Slider," said our source. When reached at his garage for comment, Slider said, "I'll find my dad some day, and that's a promise!" Good luck, Slider! We're all rooting for you!

Erica Ram's article ends

I would have used a stronger term than "meanie", given that The Hacker forced Coop to abandon his son. I'm still surprised that Cyberchase went that hard back then.

Anyway, I figure I should transcribe the other articles as well as the in-universe advertisements.

Penguin Hockey Hoopla

By Olli

Penguin hockey season is about to begin! Hockey hopefuls have been lining up at try-outs all across Cyberia. In Penguia, Coach Bluewing says he's happy to have Flash back for another season. "She's got the best aim in Cyberspace," he said. A bright young fan named Fluff said he wanted to play penguin hockey because "it's the best sport ever!"

The hockey article ends

Health Watch for Borgs & Bots By Dr. Marbles

Borgs & bots are warned that there have been many reports of late about magnetite. This mineral is very dangerous and can have strange and unpredictable effects. Everyone gets different glitches. Some borgs and bots lose their memory. Others break out in spots like chicken pox. I have even heard it can make you grow old or give you big feet. Everyone is urged to proceed with caution around magnetite.

The Health Watch article ends

Spoilers, magnetite exposure caused Coop to age into an old man, though he is able to be put back to normal with the cure. I really need to do a separate post about Coop's long exile. Magnetite causes Slider's feet to grow to a massive size, which is great for The Hacker, as it stops Slider from being able to lift his foot to kick his ass.

I'll transcribe the four in-universe ads at the bottom.

Ad #1

Special Cryoxide Sale Today!

Buy a case, get 1 can free!

Call Mr. Cryoxide

Ad #2

Ms. Fileshare is pleased to announce that Chef Digit Le Boid will be at the Cybrary tomorrow to sign copies of his new cookbook, Chef Digit Le Boid's Party Planner.

Coming soon

Manny the Medium reads from his new book Mysteries of the Manatee.

Ad #3

Aquari-Yum Picnic

All are welcome to the Prince's Picnic in Aquari-Yum next Saturday. It will take place on Hot Dog Hill. Cybersquad superstars Matt, Jackie and Inez are expected to attend, said Stringie, close friend to the Crab Prince.

Ad #4

Wanted: 1 bunny

I will love him and keep him and call him George.

Signed, Delete.

And that's all for the ads.

I like what they did here. It covers all of the important points for the series of episodes in this arc, and it doesn't spoil anything. We just get hints.

We're going back to Penguia for hockey tryouts

The Hacker is building some grand machine in his secret lab

Buzz and Delete are going to be on Dr. Bill due to The Hacker not having any time for them

Cryoxide is going to factor in again

We're heading back to Aquari-yum to meet the Crab Prince

The magnetite is going to come back in style

We're going to meet Slider's missing dad

#cartoon #cyberchase #inez #2000s #jackie #matt #nostalgia #pbs kids #digit #2000s childhood #What's Hacker's Secret?#longpost #archived web content

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lenawin4 · 2 years

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this is really random but i think a fic where jongho and doil interact as future brothers in law would be so funny (you don't have to write it obviously but the scenario is so hilarious to me). one is so soft and unassuming and the other is intense and guarded bcjfjfjf the future Oh family get-togethers would be entertaining as hell

Do-il & Jong-ho interactions would be SO gold and very adorable... like can you imagine a second season where In-joo & In-kyung just run around completely unhinged and their boyfriends just follow them everywhere trying to calm them down??

I'm replying to these like almost a month later, but I'm still mentally here even after the drama ended like ~1.5 months ago... glad y'all are still clowning with me

anyway this inspired me to write something extremely self-indulgent and fluffy, it's on ao3 and down below

Do-il knew his way around New York City very well. When he attended Wharton, he drove two hours back and forth for meetings, the occasional party, and scheduled, solitary escapes he needed for his sanity. He knew every business, bar, and back-alley like the back of his hand. This knowledge, unfortunately, was deemed not useful enough to In-kyung and In-joo, which was why he was sitting on a bench in Central Park with Ha Jong-ho at eleven in the evening.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” Jong-ho had that nervous look on his face and a tic of adjusting his glasses that told him that he didn’t actually believe that. “It’s only been fifteen minutes.”

He was wrong. Do-il’s watch told him it had been seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds since the sisters had told them to wait here while they bought food at some hot dog stand In-joo had heard of from social media. Do-il had no idea that she wanted to try it, because if he did, he would have factored this potential distraction into his plan, and he would have taken her somewhere else.

“So.” Jong-ho fiddled with a loose strand on his pants. “How have you been?”

Eighteen minutes was a long time for strained small talk, and they had already been through the usual topics of conversation when he and In-joo arrived in New York for the week. So, now, they were left with… whatever they were to each other. Future-in-laws? Do-il didn’t want to put too much hope in that, if tonight wasn’t going to go well.

“Just fine.”

“You two were in Greece last month?”

“Seoul,” he corrected. “We switch back and forth.” They spent the weekends together, making their apartments homes, and after two years, there were pieces of her at his place, and traces of him at hers. There was a terrifying amount of comfortability in it, and it didn’t terrify him until he realized he was somewhat content.

“Is it hard, going back and forth?”

It was harder to have this conversation, with Jong-ho actually expecting him to give honest responses. He shrugged and checked his watch. Twenty minutes and counting.

“I wouldn’t like being away from In-kyung every week. I tried forgetting about her for a while, but that didn’t work out.”

“Jong-ho, it’s not that difficult. I’ve lived alone my whole life.”

“Well, that’s why it’s hard now. Because you know what it’s like to have somebody in your life.”

Do-il glared at him. Jong-ho scratched the back of his neck and muttered a half-apology, half-complaint that trailed off into nothing. But the pause Do-il was granted was too brief to be classified as nothing.

“You know,” Jong-ho started, “you’re very different from the person I heard about in college.”

Do-il sighed. “Really?” He tried his hardest to sound interested, but Jong-ho’s side-eye informed him his attempt at enthusiasm was unsuccessful.

“All I heard about was a criminal who got his girlfriend killed and spoke Russian to impress the professors.” He tilted his head, allowing him this, as the descriptions were fairly accurate. “But now that I know you, and I see how you treat In-joo, I can see what kind of person you are.”

Someone who only cares about money. Do-il smiled, and remembered what In-joo thought about him now: “I know what kind of person you are,” she told him once. “You’re someone who cares about me.”

It was irritating that with a small amount of honesty came an infinite amount of transparency, and suddenly, Do-il found himself being seen through by people like Jong-ho. People who never had to lie their way out of anything. Unfortunately, these people were the most truthful, and a voice, In-joo’s voice, asked him to meet his truth with sincerity.

“Sometimes, the distance does make me unhappy,” he admitted, and tapped his watch again. It was fifteen minutes to Christmas, and it reminded him of why he was only somewhat content after the years of stealing weekends in Seoul and Greece and the US. He wanted more — when he was in Greece, he wanted the pieces of her to ligate and complete him, but the only way that was possible was with her presence. He wanted one life with her, not this delicate balance of hers and his; he wanted everything to be theirs.

When they decided to come to New York for the holidays, and he and In-joo talked about flight plans and getting off work and picking out souvenirs for In-hye and Hyo-rin, the only word in his mind was domesticity. Domesticity, and with the thought came the desire for commitment. The next day when In-joo went to work, he went to the most expensive jewelry store in Seoul and bought a ring. Maybe when she was a child, she had passed by the store and wanted that same ring, the way she wanted a winter coat or a birthday dress.

Then the question was where in New York. In front of the Statue of Liberty? Not pretty enough. On top of the Empire State Building? That was an option, but In-joo liked gardens, despite their shared aversion to orchids, so he wanted it to be in the park. He’d have to figure something out quickly if he was going to get this done in the best place for her.

“Jong-ho, I think I need your help with something.” He reached into his pocket and although he had kept his hand there all day, and he knew he was about to open up to some guy from college, his heart jolted when his fingers closed around the box.

He showed it to Jong-ho. His eyes bugged out and he gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a drowning fish. This was why he never told anyone any secrets. “You cannot say anything.”

“Uh, um — ”

“This is supposed to happen at Christmas, which is in ten minutes, and In-joo still isn’t back yet. Can you please distract In-kyung and tell In-joo to meet me here?”

“I mean, this is such short notice, and maybe I’ll just take In-kyung and run away?”

“If you act suspicious and throw this off, I’m going to tell In-kyung you ruined her sister’s proposal.”

“Understood.”

That worked well. If anyone threatened Do-il with In-joo’s wrath, he would cave immediately, too.

Finally, Do-il had some silence to prepare for his next moments. They had discussed marriage in the beginning of their relationship, when they were both unsure of what the other expected. They’d seen their parents’ marriages fall apart because of circumstance and tragedy, but they had also seen them reunite and turn back to love after everything. For them, it was always a someday, maybe. He found himself thinking about it more often than not, these days. When his mind wouldn’t rest and millions of plans began to form like constellations, there was no stopping Do-il.

From across the park, someone shouted his name. He looked upwards to find In-joo standing near a lamppost, smiling at him before breaking off into a run, leaving empty footsteps in the snow. Sudden panic passed through him like a shiver — he cataloged where everything was — the ring in his pocket, the white ground where he would kneel, the steps where she would be standing —

She crashed into him, arms around his sides. “Do-il-ah, In-kyung and I almost got lost, and then Jong-ho came to find us. Then he stole In-kyung away.”

“So, now you’re stuck with me?” She said yes, like it was a bad thing, but the light on her face spelled out happiness. “You didn’t get your hot dog.”

“We can always come back tomorrow.”

“I thought we were staying in tomorrow before our flight?”

She frowned and insisted, “We’ll come back tomorrow; who knows when we’ll be here next?”

“I’ll take you back here anytime you want.”

“I know that,” In-joo said, “but it depends how busy we are.”

“Okay,” Do-il said, to say anything to mask the way her casual trust still made him flustered, after all these years. He could never argue with her, not when she talked about them as a pair, like it was a guarantee that he would be where she was, wherever she decided to go. This really wasn’t going to plan, was it? He was the one who was supposed to be the one with all the lines, but In-joo was emptying his mind of any fully-formed thoughts.

He pulled them towards the steps nearing the bridge of the Shakespeare Garden. Two minutes to midnight, and she was holding his left hand, while his right hand had made a permanent home in his pocket.

“There’s a garden here,” he said. “Do you want to see it?”

“Look at those.” She pointed to the daffodils near the entrance. “They’re so pretty.”

“Those are amsonias next to them. They usually plant them together because they help the other one grow throughout different seasons.”

“Like partners.”

Of course, she understood immediately.

Midnight — he let go of her hand and knelt like a knight swearing honor to his king. It was colder than he expected. “Merry Christmas, Oh In-joo,” he said. He saw her thoughts and expectations connect, eyes frozen on the open box in his hands, hands coming up to cover her mouth. “I never thought I needed a partner. I never thought I would be able to have one, to support me, to help me grow. But now, I know, I am fuller, happier, and a better man with you. I want to do the same for you. Will you let me?”

“Yes. Of course, yes. I’ll tell you why.” She wiped happy tears off her cheek and held her hand out for him to claim. The ring slid on, and she released a giggle. She scrunched her nose at him and said, “That was a better metaphor than saying that you’re a horse.”

This was a complaint he had heard many times. “Is saying that I’m a flower really any better?”

“No, but don’t worry about it. You already do the same for me.” She pulled him closer, and her lips pressed against his neck. She muttered against his skin, “I am fuller.”

A kiss to his cheek. “I am happier.”

Another to his lips, and he felt complete. “I am a better woman with you. You are my partner, in all but name, and I would be happy to change that.”

A distant cheering broke another kiss, and they separated to see two nosy people filming their scene from the bench he and Jong-ho had been stranded on. “Congratulations, In-joo-unnie!”

Suddenly, they became four grown adults yelling in the middle of the park like obnoxious teenagers. “There are two people who got engaged, you know.”

“If you ever hurt my sister, you’ll never see the light of day again.”

“We’ve been together for two years; isn’t this warning a little late?”

Jong-ho stopped recording, and they ran closer. In-kyung squealed and hugged In-joo, sweeping her away from him. Jong-ho stood a bit awkwardly, like he was scared to say what he was most certainly going to come out of his mouth anyway.

“Spit it out while I’m in a good mood.”

“A thank you would be nice?”

He rolled his eyes and patted him on the back. “Thank you, Jong-ho.”

He beamed back. “No problem, brother-in-law.”

#tvn little women #doil-injoo #choi do il x oh in joo #little women kdrama #fic

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shirakumos-sandwich-shop · 2 years

Text

Tale of the Flower Hashira

CHAPTER 2

Master list

Chapter 1.

INFO:

This story will contain Kyojiro Rengoku x Reader, Tengen Uzui x reader and Douma x reader. All separately. (Tengen is still in a poly relationship with his wives.)

Y/n Shinaguzawa is 18 at the start of this story.

This fanfic will only follow the plotline of seasons 1&2.

WARNINGS:

If you are uncomfortable with any of the following then DNI.

(Extreme gore, Swearing, Manipulative behavior, disturbing content, Unhealthy relationships, disturbing relationship between child y/n and a demon.)

Chapter 2.

After a fairly sleepless night, you got up and dressed yourself in your uniform and gray haori. Sanemi was already up, getting ready for a mission, and you made yourself busy by preparing a simple breakfast for the two of you. After eating in silence, he set off on his mission, promising to be back soon.

Knowing that the flame Hashira would be at your doorstep at any moment, you set out a covered meal for your younger brother Genya. You tied the purple cloth around your blind eye and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. Just as the light began peeking over the horizon, a certain flame haired man began strolling down the path to your home. An unfamiliar tightness filled your chest, it only got worse when he smiled at you.

“Good morning, ready for training?”

You nodded, taking up your nichirin sword and fastening it to your belt. Kyojiro Rengoku spun around and began marching back the way he had come, making you run to catch up.

“You aren’t what I expected the flower hashira to be like.” He commented, once you had matched his stride.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. When someone hears the name Flower Hashira, many would instantly think of a beautiful bubbly lady like Mitsuri, someone who would most definitely be wearing beautiful clothes. Not a plain, quiet girl with a tattered haori.

“Well, not all flowers are beautiful.” Was all you said.

Rengoku looked over at you, giving him a moment to take in your face. “I disagree. But I’m sure you know more than me on such subjects.”

_____

After perhaps the most intense exercise regimen you had ever endured, you and Rengoku decided to spar. The few times you got the better of him made you grin in satisfaction. Having always spared with your elder brother, this was a new and interesting experience. You took note of his breathing style, wondering if you could adapt it into your own forms as well.

During your sixth sparring session the purple cloth that covered your eye came loose and fluttered to the ground. Kyojiro viewed your uncovered face for the first time. His expression faltered and his eyebrows knit in concern. Panic contorted your features as you hurriedly covered your left eye with your hand.

He must think I’m hideous, why else would he make that face.

He picked up the eye covering but hesitated in giving it to you. You cowered, trying to avoid his eyes.

“Why are you hiding?” His voice was warm and gentle, much different than his usual loud tone.

“Can I have that back please.” You held your free hand out for the cloth. He slowly placed it in your hand and you immediately wrapped it around your head again.

“You don’t need to hide your scars, it’s alright.”

“No it’s not. I don’t want you to look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Like… nevermind.”

“Was it a demon?”

“Yeah, a marechi like me can’t get far without them tracking me down. Especially when I was little.” For a moment you contemplated telling him the whole story. But you held back, after all you didn’t know Rengoku well. “It doesn’t matter now. I guess it comes in handy, being a demon slayer, I never really have to go searching for demons.”

“I’m sorry, did I upset you?” He asked seriously, his wide eyes fixed on you.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“The pain you’ve gone through isn’t nothing. You’re a very brave person, Y/n Shinazugawa. I’ve always thought so.”

“We only met yesterday…”

“Well I must confess I have been watching you for quite some time now. Ever since we were children I’d see you when I came to the master’s estate. And when you were reunited with your siblings, you were always trailing behind Sanemi. I’ve always wanted to talk to you but whenever I tried to approach you seemed to just disappear into thin air.”

Your face heated up so much you thought you had been set on fire. “Is that so?”

“Of course! And now that you aren’t running away from me, I can ask you all the questions I want!” He stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Maybe we can even go on a mission together and take out whatever demon harmed you!”

The words tumbled out of his mouth like he hadn’t really thought about it before speaking.

However, a faltering smile crept to your lips. “It’s already dead. There’s nothing to take out anymore.”

“Was it my father? I know he’s the one who rescued you.” Rengoku said solemnly.

“No, that was several years later. I don’t remember who saved me. I only saw him once that I know of…”

You recalled the panicked screeches of the demon who had clawed your face open. Something large had slammed into it, sending it flying into the wall.

Kaleidoscopic eyes met yours as you attempted to cover the bleeding gashes on your face. Sight was blurry in your unharmed eye, causing you to only see the fantastic swirl of colors.

“It’s alright now little one, no one’s going to hurt you now.”

You whimpered and shut your good eye as a soft cloth was pressed over the wound.

“That should help for now, how about you come home with me!” His voice sounded airy and light. You found yourself gravitating towards it and your small hands clung to his sleeve.

You were hoisted into the air by strong arms and held against a broad chest. Long blond hair tickled your nose as you instinctively wrapped your tiny arms around the man’s neck. He chuckled lightly.

“You are such a precious little thing, I could just eat you up!” He chuckled again like he has made a joke only he could understand.

Chapter 3.

#rengoku x reader #Kyojiro rengoku #rengoku kyojiro #kyojiro rengoku x reader #tengen uzui x reader #douma x reader #fanfiction #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer angst #demon slayer x reader #rengoku x y/n #douma x y/n #tengen x you

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bobattef · 1 year

Text

Not again.

It seems like the rain bears down harder on the windows of your trailer than others.

The weather has been terrible this whole week but it seems to be after vengeance of some sort this race weekend.

Typical British weather.

You think to yourself as you try to drown out the noise of the pounding rain on the flat tin roof and instead put it into focusing on the piles of paper work in front of you.

Working as a social media manager for SKY F1 sounded like you were living the life.

Travelling every where the team went for races, Europe, the Americas, Dubai and even out to Australia, plus the long winter break definitely were pros of the job!

“You just sit on your phone all day and get paid for it” is what others have said about your work but they don’t see the cons.

The constant pressure of getting new content out for the fans, in time too!

What was trending online last week is now considered old tat and then there’s the constant displeasing of the drivers and their team principals.

You don’t mean to make them out be the ‘bad guys’ but sometimes words get muddled up or edits in certain places look malicious to others.

You’ve had your fair share of arguments, along side your own team plus those personal assistants of the drivers and even some drivers yourself for videos or images you’ve published.

**knockknockknock**

A quick but urgent sound of tapping raps on your trailer door.

“Oh gods, what now” you mutter to yourself, closing your laptop and trying to sweep up some of the run way pieces of paper you had scattered around your desk.

You open the door to a soaked through-the-bones Carlos Sainz.

“Can I??” He snaps as he gestures to you to move out his way.

“Carlos” you say through gritted teeth and move out the Spaniards way.

He shakes off the excess water from the down pour you had just made him wait in.

Pulling off his Ferrari jacket, he tosses it over the door edge to the bathroom and you watch as a puddle quickly pools at the bottom of it.

You sigh out in annoyance already.

“Oh I’m sorry, you seem to be a bit stressed Cariño? The sarcasm oozing from the Ferrari drivers voice.

“What do you want Sainz? I’m a bit busy!” you sigh out as you lean back on the very desk you just had your head in your hands in defeat over.

“What are you working on? Some more bullshit about me huh? Or are you going to pick on another driver on the grid today?” he almost spits out, he’s that annoyed.

“Ah, you read my piece about you in quali yesterday?” you smirked at him, knowing it’ll piss him off even more.

You and Carlos had history. That was the short version of the story.

The longer version was that although you never officially ‘dated’ you were always ended up in his bed at every hotel or motor home on every race weekend or he was in yours.

He could fuck you like no other man you had ever been with and the noises that used to fall from his lips were ones he said no other girl has ever made him do.

Sometimes the races that didn’t go too well would work in your favour as you knew you were in for a good night if he was mad about something.

The pressure of both your jobs meant to the outside world, you were nothing to each other, even enemies perhaps?

It used to be an act.

You’d walk straight past each other in the paddock, not even a peep from either of you as you sat opposite one another for interviews, but as soon as you clocked off for the night, he’d find you.

Or you’d find him.

Sometimes not even making it out the car park of whatever race you were attending that weekend.

But that act of not giving a toss about the other got a little too real.

You really would be arguing with him more than the other stuff you could have been doing.

Him not happy with certain things that were said by you or members of your team, or you not being happy with how he had portrayed your line of work to other media outlets.

You decided to call it a day before the first race started of this 2023 season.

Cutting it off at the source before the same old ways would continue into this new season just like last years.

He didn’t take it well of course, always telling you you’d have him back but since then he’s perfected his ‘act’ of hating you so well.

“Oh I’m picking on the Redbulls at the moment don’t you worry…” the sarcasm from him was obviously contagious as you now spoke fluently in it.

“Did you see the look on Jos’s face when Max finished 2nd?? you go to laugh, wanting him to join in on the humour but instead you’re met with a shaking of his head.

“Don’t…” he says to you, his voice suddenly sounding a lot softer.

“Don’t what??” you shrug at him.

“Don’t pick on a father and sons rocky relationship for likes on instagram” the venom starting to come back in his voice.

“Yeah, cause that’s all I do. I do shit for likes on Instagram Carlos!” You start to raise your voice.

He’s known your job title for months now, he’s known everything about you for months also and now he wants to make sarky comments about the way you earn your living.

“Is there a reason you’re here tonight?” You say quieter, wanting to calm yourself down “apart from pissing me off?”

But the Ferrari driver doesn’t say a word, instead he closes the distance between you both.

One of his legs fits perfectly in between yours that you had planted to keep you leant on the desk.

Your eyes drop to his lips, suddenly so close to yours and your heart skips a beat when you see his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

Your eyes flutter up to his.

“Carlos…”

Damn, why is your voice so shaky??

“You said…we said, no more, not again..”

You notice his adam apple bob up and down with the deep breath he swallows.

He closes his eyes taking in your words but his body doesn’t listen.

Instead he pushes his knee upwards, it fits perfectly against your mound with the way you’re slouched on the table.

“Carlos…” the sudden pressure there makes you gasp out and one of his hands comes up to grab you at your throat.

“Say the words Cariño…say them and I’ll stop” he whispers to you now searching your eyes for an answer he knows isn’t coming.

You simply shake your head.

There’s no way you can tell him to stop now.

The pressure from his kneecap is making you ache there for him.

Those familiar feelings of butterflies start to grow inside your stomach as you look up at him through your lashes.

The smirk across his face letting you know he’s winning.

“On your knees pretty girl” his lower toned voice vibrates through him as you do what you’re told.

It’s as if your body goes on autopilot, it knows exactly what to as the Spaniard un clips the belt to his race slacks, the sound of the metal clinking open sends signals straight to your core.

You stroke his hardness through his boxers a few times before pulling his cock out, a quick lick of your own lips, you leave your tongue hanging out your open mouth, letting him know you’re ready.

You glance up to him as if you’re waiting for the go ahead.

He’s managed to ball his fist in your hair, holding on as he uses his other hand to pump himself a few times before slapping it on your tongue.

“Take it hermosa…” he breaths out but you lose the sound of the nickname he calls you under a moan that falls from his lips.

You must of been wanting this moment again just as much as he thought you would, as you almost make it to the base of his cock in one Swift movement.

That feeling of the tip of him, hitting the back of your throat as he sucks in yet another breath.

As you hollow your cheeks moving your head up and down, you run your tongue along the side of him, flicking it across that sweet spot of his and then diving back down to the base once again.

“Mierda” he hisses, using the grip he has on your hair to pull you back.

You smirk up to him, knowing he’d never have someone so willing to choke on his cock like you do.

“Mmm” he mimics the smirk you have on across his own face as he runs his thumb over your lips, wiping the drool that has formed there.

“You still…can tell me to stop, mi Angel”

He always had such sweet pet names for you, sweet being the complete opposite of the way he treated you in the bedroom.

You were both so fitting together.

Both enjoyed the same type of sex which is probably why you both got addicted to one another so quickly.

“I’m good” you say to him, readying your lips again.

But instead of him guiding your mouth back on his cock, he pulls you up by your pony tail.

“Aaah” you say out loud as the sharp pain you feel on the roots of your hair catches you off guard.

“You sure Bebe?” Carlos pushes further, double checking you’re on board.

“Yes Carlos…” you go to answer but are cut off by him lightly slapping you round the face.

“Na-uh” he clicks his tongue at your mistake as his hand returns to its place around your throat.

“You know my name…say it” he whispers to you, his breath brushing past your ear sending chills down your spine.

“Yes…papi” Your legs almost buckling at the mention of your old bedroom pet name you had for him.

“Good girl” Carlos breaths back, he enjoyed that name from your lips once again just as much as you heard yours.

“Now turn around…” he tells you but is already guiding you to turn your back on him, the desk you had inside this trailer was at the perfect height to bend you at your waist and the Ferrari driver had no means to let that opportunity pass.

He uses a foot of his to kick yours from underneath you, causing you to spread your legs further. The move making you steady yourself, on your arms.

Placing a hand on your lower back to keep you in place, he runs the other underneath your skirt, grabbing a hold of the waistband of both your tights and your underwear and in one quick pull, he has them down, past your knees and off.

Smiling slightly at the convenience of you already having your shoes off.

He keeps your ass covered by your skirt, although not wasting any time to rub his hands over the flesh underneath it.

Jutting his hips forward, you feel his cock pressing you from behind, searching for a way in.

You push your ass out a little bit, trying to meet with the head of his cock, needing it to bury itself deep inside your aching cunt.

Instead he snakes a hand around the front of you, disappearing up your skirt and resting on your, now slick, cunt.

The feel of his fingers pushing in-between your folds has you drop your head slightly.

You arch your back as his thumb starts to circle on your clit whilst he moves his fingers in and out of you.

So skilful this Ferrari driver of yours.

Your eyes widen at the slip up your mind had made.

He’s not yours anymore.

You quickly tell yourself, a pang of sadness hits you as Carlos senses your demure change slightly.

“Everything ok Mi amor?” he leans forward and starts to kiss down your neck, slowing down on his assault of you with his fingers.

Fuck! Why does he have to call you that!

“Mmm hmm” you breathe, knowing if you were to speak, he’d know there’s something bothering you.

His fingers come up to meet your mouth, you instinctively wrap your tongue around them, tasting yourself on him.

The way your mouth sucks his fingers makes the Spaniard groan as he positions the tip of his cock just before your entrance.

Finally pushing through, you both moan in sync.

Your walls contracting around the stretch of him going deeper inside.

He bottoms out almost instantly, feeling you shift slightly on your feet as you adjust to his size.

The thoughts you had a few moments ago start to disappear by the rolling of his hips.

You expected it to be fast, hard, but not this fast and hard.

He has a grip on you either side of your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there.

Making marks for sure.

Your whole body shakes with the sheer force he is ramming his cock into you.

You cry out.

The edge of the desk is getting the brunt of Carlos’s moves as the tops of your thighs get slammed into it again and again.

“Fuck!” you rasp out as you try to hold on to wood somehow.

“Yes Bebe, that’s it. Feel it. Feel me” The Ferrari driver isn’t making much sense to you right now but you don’t care for you start to see stars.

How does this man know how to fuck you so well??

It would be a lot easier to call off if this part wasn’t so fucking good!

He’s now released his grip on one side of your hips but uses it to land a slap right across one of your ass cheeks.

Not expecting it, you cry out once again but his hand flies up to your face, cupping your mouth.

“Shhh! You want the whole trailer park to know what I’m doing to you in here hmm? How I’m making you fall apart over your own desk?” He warns you.

You can’t speak so choose to shake your head in answer to his question.

He moves the hand that was keeping you quiet round to the back of your neck, pushing you down further on the desk.

Your chest now flushed with the piles of paper work that have strewn themselves everywhere after the disturbance they got with Carlo’s fucking you from behind.

“Mierda! I’m going, I’m going to…” he can’t even finish his sentence as the familiar fuzzy feeling from below starts to stir in your core.

You’re barely doing a thing and he’s the one coming undone first.

The thought of you doing this to him, making him lose all his senses warms you within.

You expect him to come any second now, releasing himself inside you like he has done many a time before but he catches you off guard once again as he pulls out of you.

You’re cunt aching for the loss of him almost immediately.

“Wha? What are you doing?” you don’t mean to sound so annoyed with him but you were chasing your own high too.

The Spaniard twists you round again, this time you face him and he lifts you up effortlessly onto the desk.

You lean back on your arms, pushing your chest out towards him.

He takes a minute, drinking in the sight of you.

Spread for him, your skirt had ridden up, bunched around your waist by his pounding.

Your hair almost fallen out of the high pony tail you had it in and sweat started to form on your forehead, causing a few loose strands of curls to stick to it.

Your chest is heaving, your heart slamming against your rib cage just as hard as your body was slamming against the wooden desk just now.

“What’s up?” You ask him, concerned at the sudden stopping from him.

His eye lids have dropped lower, he’s most definitely drunk on lust right now.

His lips are more pink and swollen from his assault he had on your neck, kissing, sucking, biting.

The Ferrari shirt he had on was pulled up slightly, giving you a sneak peek of his perfect abs he had underneath, the fine lines and curves of his body on show for you.

He had turned his hat backwards, when? you can’t recollect but it’s always been a favourite look of yours.

“I want to see you cariño” he smiles at you as he snakes an arm around your lower back, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk.

His cock straining against your entrance almost as if it’s begging him to feel you squeezing around it again.

You notice the tiny bit of pre cum leaking from the tip as it disappears inside you once again.

This time slowly.

He lets out a sigh, like it brings him some sort of relief being there.

Grabbing you by the chin, he tilts your head up towards his gaze.

The smirk he has worn so many times tonight already, flashes across his face once more.

“See mi cielo, what did I tell you?” He lets out a laugh at your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“You’ll have me…again” he says quietly as you feel his cock twitch from inside you.

He pulls it almost all the way out but then slams it back in again, you gasp out his name.

“You going to come for me pretty girl?” he’s not asking you, you notice, he’s telling you.

Moving his hands back down to the space in between you both he begins to rub your clit again.

You buck your hips up towards his hand as he pushes you back down with the snap of his.

The mix of sensations both his hand and his cock are giving you right now makes that familiar coil build up from within.

His movements start to become to sloppy as you know he’s close also.

“Carlos…fuck! Papi!” you hope the Ferrari driver didn’t hear your mistake.

“Yes Bebe…” he moans out. Not being able to hold on for much longer.

“Kiss me…” you ask him, feeling the overspill as you come on his cock, you go to call out his name but instead are met with his lips crashing down on yours.

He kisses you deeply.

You don’t kiss him back straight away as you’re caught in the moment.

Also you try to remember the last time he had kissed you like this.

You return the urgency he has, pushing your tongue through his lips, he welcomes it inside his mouth.

He almost growls out, it’s muffled by your mouth on his, but he comes undone inside you.

Painting your walls with his come.

He doesn’t move his hips at all.

Instead concentrating all his movements on this kiss you’re both sharing.

You pull back, panting as he rests his forehead on yours whilst he catches his breath.

You both don’t say a word to each other.

Instead focusing on your breathing, being in sync almost as you both come down from your highs.

The sound of him doing up his belt and zipper snap you out of that post sex sleepiness you seem to have every time.

He straightens his hat to where it should be and pulls his shirt back down.

You stay still, watching him closely as he gets himself sorted out.

He tilts his head slightly at you, noticing you staring at him.

“Like what you see?” The same cheekiness he always had comes though his voice.

You smile, weakly, your eyes wanting to close.

“Can say the same about you” he tells you as he steps closer towards you.

He brushes away the hair that had fallen in front of your face as he pulls your legs down to stand on the ground once again.

Your skirt dropping to its rightful place.

Carlo’s bends down grabbing something and as he straightens back up again you notice he has your underwear in his hand.

Trying not to roll your eyes at him you go to take them from him but instead he moves away from your grasp.

“I’m keeping these” he simply tells you as you huff out at his statement.

“They’re Ferrari red so…” he tries not to laugh at his own joke but your groaning at his line makes him chuckle.

Kissing you on the forehead, something he always done as you said your goodbyes, he grabs his jacket from the door and swings it over himself.

“You’ll be in Australia right?” he asks you as he turns away from the door.

“Of course” you grin at him.

“Good, so I’ll see you down under?” he laughs again as he practically hears your eyes rolling at his poor joke, closing the door behind himself.

#smut fic #carlos sainz jr #ferrari #over18 #formula 1 #reader #pov

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puffinshufflin · 2 years

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MK X READER (idk what to title yet lol)/Porty MK x reader.

(A/N): Okay so I hope this doesn’t suck but it probably does. I’m not sure where I’m gonna go with this story or if I’ll even write more, it just depends tbh. But I had this idea while bored at work and couldn’t not write it down. Pls forgive any spelling errors I’m kinda dumb!!! ⚠️There is definitely some suggestive content in here but nothing graphic atm, but I’ll give warning if things progress in later chapters. Also I don’t care how much of a jerk he is, all MK’s, clone or not, ask for consent!!!⚠️ This is an MK x reader fic that starts out with Porty MK x reader, not even sure if Porty MK will make a comeback for a while. Set just after season 1! TW- Alcohol and some light cursing. Ok I think that is everything! Pls let me know what you think!!!

Blaring base made ripples in the drink you clutched. What little was left before you threw your head back and downed the rest of it at least. Despite this being your…5th? Yeah 5th sounds right. Despite this being your 5th drink of the night, the heat of the bitter liquid still made you cringe like you swallowed a lit match. But it went smoothly and your head felt light as you rejoined the dance floor. Your friends had all parted ways, posting up at different areas of the club with different groups, leaving you to figure yourself out in the middle. Now, this wasn’t usually your scene, much more of a stay inside kinda person, but you started a new job that upcoming Monday, some little restaurant and the stress was mounting. After spending time and money in college working for a practically useless degree and claiming your independence early on by moving out as soon as you had the chance, you would take any job you could get to keep your lights on and water running. And it seemed like Pigsy’s Noodles would be that job for the time being until you could move on to a steady career. So a little liquid courage makes total sense.

The push and pull of the crowd had managed to get you closer to the front and the base somehow managed to ingrain the beat into your skull, you could feel the pulse from behind your eyelids as they fluttered groggily. It took a few seconds before you realized that you were making eye contact with someone. Said someone being the DJ as his shutter shades dropped from his eyes and rested on the bridge of his nose. He gave you, and this is not an exaggeration, the douchiest smile you’ve ever seen and you felt yourself smiling back almost immediately. He looked like a stereotype of a rave boy had gained consciousness, your eyes didn’t know what to look at first; the comically large teal headphones, the aforementioned fuchsia shutter shades or the literal leopard fur coat that was slung over his shoulders like a cape. He clearly thought your prolonged staring meant he should pose for you to check him out, so he did. A variety of hand signs were thrown your way, gang signs maybe..you weren’t sure, then he leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands, squishing his cheeks out, then he went as far as to turn himself around to send a smoldering look over his shoulder all while showing off his ass and damn…this dude has clearly never missed a leg day. You laughed outright at that one and his grin widened before he reached for the mic. “Alright porty people, make some noiseee”, his obnoxious frat boy sounding voice had an immediate effect on the crowd, you included, as you all cheered wildly. “That’s what I like to hear! Now I’m gonna take a quick break to rehydrate, but this dance floor better still be bumping when I come back..or else”. Oh dear lord he had fangs. Why did you find that hot? Where you really that drunk? When he glanced back to you and jerked his chin in the direction of the bar, you decided that yes you were that drunk and you followed.

Pushing past a crowd was difficult when sober so it was nearly impossible now, but you managed. The DJ was already seated and had an empty barstool waiting, a drink somehow already in his hand. You could see the people around him excitedly nudging each other and getting photos of him but he didn’t seem to pay attention as you approached. You didn’t sit, just in case your little dance floor interaction had been a side affect of the booze and you were about to make a fool out of yourself. But then he gestured to the chair then you you and you got the message. “Hey”, was all he said and got a closer look at those fangs. “Hey yourself”, you had at least attempted to be flirty and casual, but his little chuckle said he could see right through you. “What can I get you”, he raised a hand and immediately the bar staff was pushing over themselves to get to you both. A young, giggly woman approached and quickly got your preferred order down as well as the DJ’s second before scurrying off again. “So what brought you here…”, he lingered a bit so you could fill in your name. “(Y/N)”, you gave it. (Y/N)! My first guess”, he snapped his fingers and you rolled your eyes at the obvious lie. “Amazing”, you said flatly, matching his smirk. “So (Y/N), you porty much”? Porty? Wow this guy was committed to his persona. “Honestly no, it been a while. But with the way my life is going to could see it being a more frequent occurrence”. Wow, not three sentences in and you were already over sharing, nice one (Y/N). He didn’t seem to mind, just chuckling, “I wouldn’t mind you becoming a regular sight”. You flushed, blaming it on the alcohol, “Wow! You are very forward Mr. DJ”. “MK”. You hummed. “My name is MK”, he elaborated. “My second guess after Mr. DJ”, you snapped back. Your drinks had arrived as MK laughed and the conversation continued at the same pace. It was like talking with him was a competition, both of you trying to one up each other with sly remarks and shameless flirting. Well maybe you felt a little shame but you swallowed it with your drinks. MK eventually and to leave to get back to work, but you caught his eye numerous times while swaying along with the crowd and you met back up on his next break. And the next one.

As the night turned to morning, the club crowd began to filter out save for the die hard partyers. Portyers, you thought with a snicker. You had switched from alcohol to water as to not totally overdue it but you were still sloshed and MK was just as much if not more. He wasn’t up on stage anymore, but pre mixed tracks still blared through the significantly smaller mosh pit that you found yourself in the center of. Arms were around you from behind as MK lazily hummed and murmured along to the current song. Your head was thrown back onto his shoulder and you peered at him from behind the shutter shades that had somehow migrated onto your face. This wasn’t the first time you had gotten a little touchy-feely that night, you had both thrown that out the window within the first few hours of knowing each other. But as he turned you to face him, this was the first time you felt his hands travel to a more pg-13 area. Your ass, he was shamelessly pulling you closer by your ass. Not that you cared too much at the moment. You both clearly have something going on, even if it is just a drunken fling. So you got even and grabbed his ass right back and he had the nerve to groan lowly. His shades slipped down your nose as you made eye contact briefly. He looked as smug as ever but you could still see the question his his eyes. You nodded.

The walk back to your apartment took considerably longer as you drunkenly pawed at each other but you made it. At just the right time, cause as soon as the door was shut, your back was against it and those fangs were pulling your bottom lip to give him access. Not that you minded in the slightest. For such a pair of chatterboxes, there wasn’t too much talking after that, just a lot of huffing and panting as you blindly stumbled to your bedroom. He had you down on the mattress and you could swear his eyes were glowing. “Are you sober enough”, he looked serious for the first time that night. True you could feel the alcohol still in you but no more than you would after a few glasses of wine and you could very clearly understand and consent to what was about to happen. “Yes, I’m fine. Are you”, you asked him and his lazy smiled returned, “You know it baby”. With that out the way, he dove down into your awaiting arms. “Let’s gets this porty started”.

#lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #porty mk x reader #porty mk #mk x reader

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thefae-journal · 2 years

Text

all we (don't) have is time - from "this is a place where i feel at home (with you)"

fandom: A League of Their Own ship: Gretson POV: second person, Carson

word count: 1109 warnings: implied sexual content, ig - for like five seconds

summary: Carson asks Greta what she needs.

Also on AO3

A League of Their Own masterlist masterlist

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

She shows you the car, the new place where kisses will be shared and tender conversations will float between lips and stay tucked under the car’s seats. A place that is safe. A place no one else knows about, except you and her because you can’t even have the woods anymore. You want to be alone with her, have time alone with her. And if this car is the only way it can happen…

It’s worth it then, isn’t it?

Sitting on the leather seats, Greta kisses you, her hand on your cheek and your own on her thigh. And despite the very… nice distraction, thoughts run in circles with no sign of stopping. You becoming coach when you don’t want to be. The possibility of all of this ending, to be forgotten in a few weeks like it never happened. Then, you would have to go back to Idaho, go back to being a housewife to a man you only see as your best friend. To that little suburb where you weren’t really happy because that Carson isn’t you. Just someone you pretended to be because it made the people you care about happy.

Greta opened your eyes to what you truly want. Who you are. How you’re supposed to feel, and it’s freeing. You’re finally breathing.

She cuts off your rant and unbuttons her shirt. “I think you need to relax a little bit.”

You chuckle, and she pulls you in. A swirl of lips you can’t let go of, each kiss dragging you deeper and deeper into her atmosphere. Her arms. You lose track of time.

ii.

The next day, you find her alone in front of the wheel.

You didn’t see her at breakfast, so you asked around, maybe if the other Peaches had seen her. Nothing. Not even Jo knew. Worry bubbled up inside you, and Shirley, although not really understanding, tried to calm you down.

By lunch, your stomach twisted. You couldn’t eat.

Lupe asked if she could warm up with you for a bit. At the front of the house, you had a catch, and your mind steered away from Greta for a moment.

Until Maybelle pulled you aside. She grabbed your wrist and led you to the shed.

“What are you—?”

“Esti saw where she went this morning,” Maybelle said, opening the door. “When she tried to tell me, I didn’t understand what she was saying, so she just brought me here.”

You exhaled and peeked inside. “She’s here?”

“You bet. Go get your girl.” She winked.

Beside her now, you settle your hand right above her knee, right where the hem of her skirt is. “Greta? Are you okay?”

She avoids your eyes, stares out the window even though there’s nothing to look at. Just a cream sheet. A boring cream sheet. “Time goes too fast, Carson,” she whispers, her voice breaking with each word spoken. “Soon, all of this will be over.”

You shift closer to her. You don’t say anything, a comfortable silence rising like heat. Instead, you wait. You wait for her. If she wants to say more. If she wants you to hold her.

No, if she needs you to hold her.

You reach to wrap your fingers around Greta’s palm, and you rub the back of her hand with your thumb in slow circles.

She hiccups and glances down at tangled hands. She squeezes, and relief floods you. “God, Carson.”

“What do you need, Greta?” you ask, your tone soft, delicate because you know she’s broken. But she’s also right.

This will be over soon. The season, baseball. You and her. Back to Idaho, and you’re still not sure if that’s what you want, after everything. After this. After each kiss, each touch, each laugh. Each whisper.

She has grown attached, hasn’t she?

You have, too.

Finally, finally, she looks at you. The lost tears that sit on her bottom lids, threatening to fall. And all the dry streaks already present on her cheeks. The slight quiver of her chin.

“I… I d-don’t…” She breathes. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay. Okay. I can sit here with you. Is that what you—?”

Greta lunges towards you, sealing your lips in a kiss. Heavy. With a passion you’ve never felt her kiss you with before. Something like longing. Like a kiss you would give when you’re saying goodbye, except, it’s not because she keeps going. And you reciprocate.

This is what she needs.

iii.

She strokes your hair as you come down, breaths heated, but slowing. “Wow, Shaw. Ease up a little bit, huh?”

You don’t realize how tightly you are holding her, gripping on to the back of her blouse so much that you’re sure Greta can feel your nails through it. “I’m sorry.” You exhale into her shoulder. “That was…”

“A lot?”

You shudder. An aftershock, feeling Greta remove her hand from under your dress. It pools at your waist, fabric dangling off Greta’s lap. The whole upper half of you is open for her to see. And your bra, you don’t remember where you put it. Maybe on the floor, or thrown in the back. Somewhere in this car. “A lot, but a good ‘a lot’,” you mumble. “A really good… ‘a lot’.”

She giggles and kisses the side of your head. “Good.”

It seems like another hour, maybe two, that you stay on her lap in her embrace. Some words pass between you, whispers and laughs. Your head buried in her shoulder, she rubs your back, fingers tracing your spine.

When you shiver, Greta helps you lift your dress back on, slip on the sleeves and button it up, despite your bra still discarded somewhere. Right now, you don’t care. She’s here, with you. Blessing you with all the warmth you need. Everything you’ve ever wanted. Home.

This tall redhead you’ve grown to care so much for. More than you can comprehend. In less than a month, that’s all going to go away. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Here, this moment, all you have is time.

“You know what you told me once?” You pull away from her a bit, enough to see her. Enough to caress her cheek, which she leans into.

“Hmm.” She scrunches her nose. “Don’t be boring?”

You shake your head with a chuckle. “Remember, ‘however long this lasts, let’s rob the bank.’ Make the most of—”

She kisses you. A kiss that ingrains itself in your head and builds its roots. Even when it ends, you still feel it in your lips. She touches her forehead to yours. “Let’s rob the bank.”

#a league of their own #fanfic #fanfiction #writer #carson shaw #greta gill #gretson #greta x carson #aloto

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lovecolibri · 1 year

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Any thoughts about why the 911 fandom has shockingly (at least to me) high levels of multishipping/willingness to drop Buddie as soon as new female love interests enter the picture? It's unlike any other fandom that I've participated in, truly. I'm not like...outrageously pissed because I recognize that this is a fictional show and I have real-life issues that take priority, lol. Buuut I'm about as pissed as I ever let myself get over fictional shows.

The reaction of so many "Buddie shippers" to Buck and Eddie's new love interests has been like cold water thrown on my face. I've seen people quite literally abandoning ship, even though we know practically nothing about these new characters and haven't even seen them interact with the guys, all because they are conventionally attractive??? I thought that people were joking at first, but now I'm seeing very earnest threads on Twitter and posts here on Tumblr about how these women are so hot and funny and sweet, and they'll make peace with no Buddie because of the "happiness" that these women will bring to Buck and Eddie. Whaaaat. Am I living in La La Land for finding this EXTREMELY strange??? We haven't even seen Natalia with Buck, or Eddie with Marisol, and we got, like, 2 minutes of Eddie with the other lady. Was it unpleasant like Eddie and Ana? No. But was it truly compelling, or moving, or anywhere in the vicinity of a Buck scene? FUCK NO.

At the very least, I wonder why these people are still blogging and tweeting Buddie content, why they still consider themselves Buddie shippers, when they've admitted that they'd be perfectly content to sacrifice years of Buddie potential and development for virtually unknown women. The reality is that heterosexual ships nearly always win out - especially on network TV - and seeing these people align with that against a same-sex ship? It gives me an extremely icky feeling. And if you point out that this is odd, you're suddenly accused of misogyny? Again, whaaaat. I'm having flashbacks to BuckTaylor, when a bunch of people jumped ship but quickly realized that there was NOTHING to work with, and tried to come back to Buddie. Maybe it's the same people doing this now! But God, if it's this annoying before we even meet the women, I can't imagine what it'll be like when they ctually enter the picture. I've already unfollowed 20 people and see that list only growing. Cultivate your experience, sure. But it's kind of sad because I tried to do that in the first place. Anyway, I've been pretty shocked by how quickly some people have turned on Buddie.

First of all, I will say some people are perfectly happy multi-shipping and that's fine! It's absolutely not for me personally with a couple I'm invested in (or for you apparently) but some people are happy going with the flow and there's nothing wrong or bad about it. They can still like Buddie and share Buddie content from a fandom perspective and be interested to see where the actual show is going with different couples. I don't get it, it's not how I engage, but I'm not going to tell other people their way of engaging isn't right, or that they can't share Buddie content at all if they are okay with Buck or Eddie ending up with someone else.

With that said, I completely understand how it can be difficult to see especially against a mlm couple that the show doesn't seem to want to commit to, but also refuses to clearly state it WON'T happen while paralleling them to the other couples instead of the other friendships on the show.

For me, I've been leery of following blogs since my season 2 RNM days which was lot of mass unfollowing, and again when I let my guard down and had followed a bunch of people and then s5 and LD happened. So instead of following a lot of blogs, I prefer to go to the search page in tumblr and just do "911". No hashtag so sometimes I get irrelevant things that were just tagged something like "hello 911? I'd like to report a murder" but it gives me things tagged with all variations of 911, 911 on fox, 911 tv etc, as well as LS content AND the search will not pull posts that have a tag you have blocked! So I have blocked tags for characters/ship I do not like, I have blocked anit-tags for characters/ships I love, and then I can see if someone posts content I enjoy but don't see any content they post that I don't like. I don't need to follow everyone or see everything on my dash because some blogs are multi-fandom for something I don't like, or some blogs post about characters I don't like, but not enough for me to want to block them entirely. And sometimes I don't want to block a blog that posts buddie fics I like, but I DON'T want to see other fics about characters I hate.

Filters are EVERYTHING and I think it's important to know you don't HAVE to follow blogs to see their content, you can just go into the search! You could do "buddie" instead of 911 and get similar results, even more so because it won't be pulling as much generic 911 stuff. I already filtered out the "Natalia" tag AND put it in my filtered post content just because FOR ME, I don't want it in the search, AND for people I DO follow, when that filtered post comes up on my dash I want to see which blog is posting about it and what my personal emotional state is in before I choose if I want to see the post or not. I'll probably remove the filter at some point, we literally know nothing about the character, but right now I'm not in a place I want to see it. 🤷🏻‍♀️ And that's okay! There is a lot of relief at knowing it's not going to sneak up on me unprepared. That's how I am currently curating my experience in full, not just my dash and I HIGHLY recommend it. Some people won't tag for things which is why the "filtered post content" is great, and I have also started using the "find in page" option on fics so I don't get jumpscared with an untagged character appearance.

So hopefully these options are helpful! It's what works for me, and while I do still block blogs occasionally, I'm also not going to be going to every blog and researching every opinion they've ever had before deciding on reblogging from them. I do often now do a *little* checking before I decide to follow a blog, but that takes spoons so typically I just stick with reblogging from the search and then checking my dash when my brain isn't in hyperfocus on 911 mode.

(so if you've ever followed me and I reblog from you and never followed back, this is why. I'm a little shy about following back after my bad experiences and don't always remember to check out a blog that follows me in order to decide to follow back AND/OR I see your posts in the search all the time so I forget that I don't actually follow you 🤷🏻‍♀️)

I hope you find some peace on your dash nonnie, but don't feel like you have to give up on seeing some good Buddie content from blogs just because they post other stuff you don't want to see. Filter that shit out and enjoy the Buddie stuff! Whether that means unfollowing and just seeing their posts in other reblogs or the search, or being fine with following and just scrolling past the "this post contains filtered content" notifications, whatever works for you! (I personally end up clicking the "see post" option and always end up as the dead dove meme, so unfollowing and just using the search works best for me since I have no self control.)

#my sweet nonnie friends #911 #911 spoilers #buddie #there is more than one way to curate your experience #find what works for you!#i hope this was helpful nonnie!

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anonymous-nicholas · 1 year

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Some of My Favorite Urban Legends

I loved the Nascar season growing up because I knew that my dad would be in the living room ALL day, leaving me to watch whatever I wanted, unsupervised, in the back bedroom. Nothing raunchy or super inappropriate, but I always gravitated towards horror. This unsupervised TV time is how I found out about cryptids. I would watch Lost Tapes on Animal Planet whenever I got the chance. It was one of the most intriguing TV shows to me.

Lost Tapes awakened in me a hyperfixation that lasted well into my 30’s. I fully believe that show, and that show alone, is the sole reason I find myself so enthralled with things like cryptozoology and urban legends. So, while I open the latest MetaZoo box and compare the MSRP of the rare cards to what I paid for the box, I want to talk about some of my favorite cryptids and urban legends featured in this set.

Before we get into the juicy stuff though I just want to thank everyone who has subscribed thus far. Theres not even 200 of you yet but those of you who are here seem to be some of the coolest guys, gals, and non-binary pals out there. There have been so many kind words regarding the content on the channel, and it feels like monetization is right around the corner despite there not even being 200 subs. We’re growing really quickly now, and getting closer every day to a channel that can afford to pump out more content. So if you haven’t already, please be sure to subscribe, or at least hit that like button and type some kind words below so the YouTube god that is the almighty algorithm will push the video to more like-minded people.

Now for something completely different.

Polybius

In 1981 the arcade business was booming and the method of quality assurance testing videogames before release was more about crowdsourcing information. The arcades of Portland, Oregon were a hot spot for QA testing new games before they hit the market, so it was normal for black, labeless arcade cabinets with no artwork to show up overnight. One such night a collection of black cabinets appeared that read “Polybius.” It quickly became popular around Portland as the mechanics were so addictive. Oftentimes children would have to wait to play as men in black suits would visit the arcades to open the cabinet and collect data from the machine, sometimes the men in suits would hang around and watch as the game was played, and sometimes the game would periodically disappear and reappear as these same unknown men would take the game and later bring it back. Soon children who played it would report becoming sick with seizures and hallucinations, and some children found themselves amnesia stricken or would experience night terrors and PTSD. In a few extreme cases Polybius was linked to a number of children who had committed self harm and even suicide. As the game was becoming more well known as a “haunted game,” kids would now dare each other to play it. But the game was quickly pulled out of arcades for good by the previously mentioned men in black suits, and Polybius was never seen again.

It was around this same time that the US Government had first started testing the idea of using videogames as training simulations for US soldiers. The year prior to Polybius the US Army collaborated with Atari to create The Bradley Trainer. And in the decade just before the public had been made aware of the MK Ultra experiments being carried out by the CIA for almost 2 decades. It’s possible that this timeline of events, (MK Ultra disclosures, The Bradly trainers' development and delivery to the US Army, and then Polybius mysteriously showing up in arcades) could be what lead people to one of the more popular conspiracies surrounding the machine. It was believed that Polybius was possibly another egregious human experiment being carried out, one that tested the mental fortitude of the average person. Theoretically, this kind of experiment could deliver useful information on patterns and lights that could induce seizures at will, or the effects of long term exposure to subliminal messaging.

For a long while it was thought to be a myth because there seemed to be no corroborating evidence, until a 2006 post to coinop.org. The post was made by a man named Steven Roach. Steven claimed to have previously worked for a company by the name Sinnesloschen (Sin-es-slur-shin). He heavily details his involvement with the game, explaining away the US Government conspiracy, and providing a much more believable tale. In short, him and some buddies ran Sinnesloschen as a little start up where they made hardware, they were approached by a company with the idea for a game that would net the boys a sweet compensation package, the game was made, delivered to Portland arcades for QA testing, but then one child in Portland had a seizure while playing the game. The parent company had to settle the resulting lawsuit and scramble to remove all the arcade cabinets. And that's that. . . Allegedly.

A couple easily verifiable facts:

Sinesloschen can be translated from German as “mind wiping” or “mind altering.” A little on the nose, don’t ya think?

Polybius was the name of a Greek philosopher who is credited as being one of the first real historians in human history, and was quoted as saying *clears throat* “If history is deprived of the Truth, we are left with nothing but an idle, unprofitable tale.”

So do with that what you will.

Hatman

Before discussing Hatman I want to get one common misconception out of the way: Freddy Krueger was not inspired by the Hatman myth. Wes Craven explained in an interview on some DVD commentary that Freddy was inspired by a bully from his school during his youth, a disfigured homeless man who had frightened him when he was 12, and the 1970s pop song "Dream Weaver" by Gary Wright. So yeah, super disappointing.

ANYWAY, Hatman is still super cool. He’s recognized as the most common version of a sleep paralysis demon. Some people see bugs and insects, some people see actual demons, but most people see the Hatman. Hatman is interesting because so many people - all over the world - describe the same figure. About 6 feet tall, wears a black suit, and always wears the same hat. He transcends race, culture, and geographical location.

If you didn’t know, sleep paralysis is when your mind wakes up before your body. Your brain has this switch that turns off your ability to move while dreaming so that you don’t hurt yourself by acting out your dreams. Sometimes people's eyes will open before this switch returns to its original position. For the few seconds the switch is off you often continue to dream, resulting in hallucinations.

Some people report the Hatman as someone who just watches them, others report that he is “sucking the breath or life out of them,” some say he puts pressure on their chest by sitting on them or forcing them down with his hands, and in some extreme cases he has been reported to attack people.

I have suffered from sleep paralysis at a few junctions in my life. Constant stress is a common trigger for sleep paralysis. I never saw the Hatman though. Often I saw disembodied hands. They would be coming from under the bed I slept on, coming out of the closet, and one time it looked like an entire arm gently wrapped around me. But the worst time I saw a disembodied hand was one night in my old home. I had designed my room for “maximum comfort” by placing the bed against the window and my flatscreen at the foot of my bed. I had a collection of pillows under my bed so that I could create a large comfy chair when gaming or watching TV. One night I was up kind of late and watching anime. I was working a crap job at the time and always angry, so sleep paralysis happened often. On this night I must have fell asleep with my eyes open because a hand came in through my window and made motions in front of my face. It triggered my fight or flight and I lunged at the arm, ready to grab it, but it disappeared. I knew it was my sleep paralysis but my adrenaline had already started pumping. I couldn't get to sleep that night because I was so wired afterwards.

An estimated 40% of all humans will experience Sleep Paralysis in their lifetime. So if you haven’t met the Hatman or the disembodied hands yet, you still might.

Flatwoods Monster

I’m not going to spend too much time on this one because Ash and Aliana made an episode of the Morbid podcast that absolutely killed this topic. Theres literally no reason for anyone on the internet to talk about the Flatwoods Monsters anymore because that Morbid episode is the definitive piece of content. I highly recommend that you check it out if you’re even the least bit interested in cryptids or aliens. I’ll give you a TL;DR though.

On September 12 in 1952 three boys, Edward and Fred May, and their friend Tommy Hyer, say they saw a red object pass through the night sky and land on a nearby farm property around 7:15 PM. The boys ran to tell Ed and Freds mom, Kathleen. Kathleen agreed to help th boys investigate - because what responsible parent would just let their children investigate the crash sight of lord-knows-what - and along the way a few other boys from the neighborhood, one accompanied by his dog, all tagged along. 17-year-old Gene Lemon, a National Guard member, also accompanied the group and took the lead as they entered the woods.

Once in the woods Lemon saw a “ 10-foot monster with a blood-red body and a green face that seemed to glow.” The monster was also surrounded by a dense mist that made the party nauseous.

The story got picked by almost every major radio station and newspaper in the US, and became one of the biggest stories that year.

Seriously, go check out the Morbid episode about this fun little guy. It’s worth your time.

The Grays

This is another one I’m not going to spend too much time on because who doesn’t know the grays? These guys are aliens 101. But here are some cool facts you probably didn’t know.

The first ever description resembling a modern Gray can be found in the 1891 novel, Meda: A Tale of the Future, written and published by Kenneth Folingsby. In the book the narrator passes out due to overworking himself and then just wakes up in the year 5575. In the book he encounters aliens who are small, gray skinned, and have “large balloon shaped heads.”

Another popular description was written by H.G Wells - who you’ll recognise as the author of War of the World and the Invisible man - in his 1893 short story, Man of the Year Million. He describes future humans kind of like Grays. Bald, no mouth or nose, and large heads. He then later described a race of future humans that he called the Eoli in his book The Time Machine. They were described in a similar manner.

But I think my favorite early description of a gray alien - predating Roswell and all that - comes from one of the most interesting men you’ve never heard of, Aleister Crowly. Aleister was a writer, poet, painter, a freaking mountaineer, an occultist, and whatever the hell a “ceremonial magician” is. He’s most well known for founding the religion of Thelema. I could write a whole book on this guy but I don’t want to get too off topic.

In 1917 Aleister and his girlfriend at the time conducted a ritual they referred to as “Amalantrah Workings.” And during this ritual they claimed to come in contact with a "preternatural entity" - or alien - named Lam. Crowley made a drawing of Lam if you wanna look it up, which is weird when Lam was also described as “being incomprehensible to the human mind.” Other UFO-oligists have claimed to have met Lam in one way or another, and they claim he is linked to several famous sightings of Gray aliens.

Also, before you go thinking that conducting magic rituals with your lover is a fun date idea, it probs isn’t. Aleister and his honey broke up soon after. That was probably Lam’s fault too.

One last things I want to discuss because it’s cool (and also I have so much space to fill for this video) is another cool alien fun fact. It’s not gray specific, but I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to discuss this on the channel again.

In 1630 John Wintrop led a wave of Puritans from England to establish the second major settlement in New England, known as the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and he would serve as the governor for the first 12 years following its founding. As he and the other Puritans began to settle in America John Winthrop kept a diary that recorded the colony's growth. While most of it is just boring US history, there was one particular entry that many credit as the first ever UFO sighting in recorded United States history.

On March 1 of 1693 John Wintrhop recounted in his diary a strange event that was reported by James Everell and two other men whose names seem to have been forgotten by history, possibly because John Winthrop doesn’t mention their names in this entry.

John WIntrop starts by explaining that James Everell was a “sober” - very important detail for a story like this - “discreet man.” James and his two buddies were rowing on the Muddy River at night when they saw bright lights in the sky. Over the course of about three hours the men say that the light darted back and forth, between them and the village of Charlestown. When it stood still it was about “three-square yards” large, and - this part is weird - “when it ran, contracted the form of a swine.”

So basically a giant light up space pig, I guess. This is exactly why John Winthrop led with the details of James’ sobriety.

This next part is my favorite: James and buddies reported that when the magical space pig disappeared it had faded away, and the squad was now a mile UPSTREAM, not down. The three men had no recollection of rowing against the current, so it’s possible that they lost time. If you know anything of modern American alien abduction stories then you know that “losing time” is a common trope amongst them. Because of this, some UFO-ologists believe that James Winthrop didn’t only record the first UFO sighting in written American history, but possibly the first abduction as well.

While I don’t believe in aliens in this manner I do find these things interesting and fun to discuss.

Charles Mill Lake Monster

On March 28, 1959, in Mansfield, Ohio, three teenage boys - Denny Patterson, Wayne Armstrong and Michael Lane - were hanging out near Charles Mill Lake when they claimed to see it. A 7-foot tall, armless amphibian with glowing green eyes and large, webbed feet rose from the lake almost directly in front them. Immediately, out of fear, the three boys ran to the police station to report what they saw. The police investigated the scene and found no such monster, but they did find a collection of tracks that “resembled the foot gears worn by skin divers.” There probably were never any more sightings of the Charles Mill Lake monster, and I saw “probably” because many people believe that the Chalres Mill Lake monster is also another cryptid known as Orange Eyes.

Orange Eyes has significantly less information, and while all the info you can find tells the same stories - or pieces of it - there's no names, no police report filed, and a lot of speculation. Allegedly, in 1963, several teenagers sighted Orange Eyes in the Lovers Lane area near Charles Mill Lake. The teens reported that it was 11-feet tall and possibly 1,000 pounds. They also defined it as hairy - not amphibious - and confirmed that it did have arms. After escaping from the initial encounter the terrified teens gathered up an armed posse to hunt the beast down. Details are vague so it isn’t clear if this posse included adults with guns or just other teens who were also, OBVIOUSLY, studying the bible at Lovers Lane. Some info surrounding the monster will tell you “this is for sure how it happened,” but again, I can’t track down any sources, and sources are never listed. However, one thing everyone seems to agree on is that Orange eyes could have been living in the sewers. Prior to both sightings there was construction of a highway that possibly resulted in the destruction of sewer tunnels near the lake.

The final sighting was in 1991 when a couple fishermen - both chose to remain anonymous - claimed to have seen the same creature described as Orange Eyes. The two men claimed that the 11-foot beast ran past them and into the woods. That’s it. That’s their whole story.

Rougarou

The Rougarou isn’t a cryptid, but instead a piece of Cajun folklore hailing from New Orleans, Louisiana. Many people refer to it as the Cajun Werewolf. It’s speculated that the Rougarou folklore evolved from the French folklore of the Loup-Garou, which is a French Canadian and European werewolf. The story of the Loup-Gaurou was passed down orally from generation to generation, and French settlers in New Orleans would retell the tales, eventually becoming the Cajun Rougarou.

The Rougarou is mostly recognised as one of those cautionary monsters that only exists to scare children into certain behaviors. The story was commonly passed down from Cajun adults to their children as a way to inspire obedience. Things like not traveling too far into the woods or going out when its late, otherwise the Rougarou will getcha! Likewise, the Loup-Garou served the same purpose in French Catholicism. One of the most famous Loup-Garou tales states that breaking catholic lent for seven years in a row will turn you into a Loup-Garou. And in French Canadian Christian folklore the Loup-Garou is a cursed man who sinned so much that he would unwillingly turn into the beast every night for 101 days, cursed to roam the countryside in werewolf form.

One neat fact related to the Rougarou: The New Orleans Hornets, now the New Orleans Pelicans, once filed for a trademark to become the New Orleans Rougarous. That would have been waaaaaaaaay cooler than the Pelicans.

Kodiak Dinosaur

I had never heard about this one prior to writing the video so I had to do some research, and in my research I found an awesome song from an awesome band. If you’re a fan of Swancore style music or the band who invented it, Dance Gavin Dance, I highly recommend checking out Galleons and their song Downtown Dinosaur Gang from their 2015 EP Kodiak Soul. It is currently sitting at a CRIMINAL 629 views so please help me change that and check out their newer stuff too. They released an album last year that's super good.

So anyway: There is a ton of information surrounding the Kodiak Dinosaur, and the only evidence of it possibly being a “dinosaur” is that it was big.

The Kodiak Dinosaur was “spotted” - and I am using that term lightly - in 1969 by the Mylark shrimping boat of the coast of Alaska, in the Shelikof Strait The shrimping boat was equipped with, at the time, some of the best sonar that the late 1960’s had to offer. One day the crew went out to catch shrimp and on the sonar they noticed a large blip on the radar, 300 feet below the surface. When doing research on the topic the blip ranges from anywhere around 130-200 feet long. There's a picture of the sonar recording, sometimes referred to as an “echogram,” that looks pretty convincing.

But real quick, let’s talk about how sonar works, because it’s basically echo location. Why is that important, you may ask? Something you may not know about the Loch Ness Monster is one of it’s largest pieces of debunking evidence; the surroundings. Many skeptics believed that Nessy, as it appears on sonar, looked to be the sonar reading it’s own wavelengths as they traveled back from hitting the sides and rocky bottom of the Loch. Even changes in water temp can cause readings that look like animals. Some scientists and skeptics would argue that sonar is an unreliable tool when trying to prove the existence of an underwater dinosaur.

But also remember that Cryptozoology has proven the existence of many things thought to be fake. Komodo dragons, Okapi, and even the Giant Squid were all thought to be hoaxes and urban legend at one point. And sometimes cryptids do exist just not as we imagined them, like finding out the Chupacabara was a diseased fox or that the Jackalope was a rabbit with some kind of calcium-tumor condition.

So who knows. Maybe these plesiosaur creatures being spotted everywhere are just severely endangered species that never really went extinct.

The Kodiak Dino has allegedly been spotted several more times since the initial sighting, and the Kodiak Museum actually has a pretty in-depth article on the sightings and origins if you’re interested. It’s called Here There Be Dragons: Sea Monsters of Kodiak Island and it’s a pretty fun read.

#urban legends #cryptids #cryptid #monsters

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