#but i do have work to do and my brother is also working from home today and I feel bad bc I am using the desk and the good chair

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks.  Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club. 

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

 Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen. 

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.  

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls. 

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away. 

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over. 

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll.  “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke. 

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!” 

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over. 

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her. 

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend. 

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door. 

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his. 

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent. 

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.” 

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots. 

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach? 

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line. 

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next. 

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.  

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.  

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party. 

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?” 

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?  

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words. 

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life. 

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

 You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him. 

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.   

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start. 

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face. 

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would. 

He showed up. 

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours. 

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious. 

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd. 

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. 

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends. 

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far. 

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.   

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to. 

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout. 

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer. 

“Six,” you sob. 

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.” 

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it. 

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once. 

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over ��� rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[igotanidea]

World's worst wingman: Jason Todd x reader (ft. Dick Grayson)

story borrowed from @gay-dorito-dust, thank you :)

Summary: Dick being Jason's wingman.

***

„Come on, just go do it!”

„No.”

„Why not?”

„Because.”

„Why are you being stubborn? I saw you eyeing her whole night! Seriously, if you keep bringing that face expression on, you will turn into an anime character and-“

Jason groaned and run fingers through his already messed up hair.

For the record – he had no idea that the object of his interest in the form of Y/N would be at this particular club tonight.

Well – maybe a faint idea. Just a vague concept of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t like he stalked her a little, getting to know her favorite places to hang out, her work and her home and the way she was using to commute to ensure its safety.

Definitely not.

But even if he did – there was no regrets in his actions with regards to that.

What he did regret though – was bringing Dick with him to act like some sort of wingman. Stupid. Idiotic. Completely reckless behavior. HE should have known better than that.

Instead of having a chance to talk to her, he was stuck by the table, trying to melt into the plush backrest of the couch behind his back, that happened to be the same color his face was turning into.

Forced to listen to his brother constant babbling how he can’t be such a coward and shy and antisocial and that she seemed to be a nice girl and why won’t Jason just get his ass up and –

“Shut up.” Jason muttered, edging the thin line between behaving and getting a temper tantrum.

“Ohhhh! Is my little Jaybrid getting flustered?” Dick teased, grinning like a madman, deriving almost sadistic pleasure from tormenting his brother.

“I’m getting so many regrets about telling you shit about her.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say it! That’s so not fair! I’m only here to help you, cause with the way you’re acting now I don’t see much chance to succeed in-”

“I’m going to get a drink!” Jason stood up from the table so abruptly that only by miracle it didn’t trip over.

“Oh yeah! That’s the spirit! And while you’re at it, can you bring me one more pina colada?”

It was all just a big fat joke to Dick.

***

“Hey, can I have a beer and a pina colada?” damn the second part of his sentence barely left his throat.

“that;s an unusual mix, istn;t it?” she chuckled grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink with learned precision.

“Yeah, it’s not for me – “ Jason stuttered, despite himself “It’s for-“

“Your date?”

“huh?”

“That guy over there?” Y/N pointed towards the Dick, waving at her crazily across the club

“WHAT? He’s not my date! He- he’s my –“ it took a lot of effort from Jason to not address Dick as his prey, but somehow, gulping heavily and clenching fists he managed to calm down. Ish. “-brother. He’s my effing brother.”

“Oh, such a  relief!”

“Relief? Why?”

“Cause it means he’s not gay, huh?”

“Oh…”

Of course she was asking about Dick. How could a girl like her ever pay attention to a guy like Jason?

“Relax, I’m kidding. It’s only because of the drink. I mean – what kind of a man orders pina colada unless he’s playing on the other side of the field or has a particularly nasty sense of humor, right?”

“Are you always this observant?”

“You know, some people think I’m just  a bartender, but the truth? I’m also a watcher and a listener. You wouldn’t believe the amount of drunk girls crying their broken heart out on this particular counter.”

“Hah!” he chuckled. For some crazy reason her attitude was making him feel at ease. Like he could actually maybe stand a chance with her?

“So, here’s your pina colada and your beer. Enjoy.”

The second she handed him the beverages he knew the moment was over. He was a customer at the bar and she was working here. They were not friends and definitely not more.

“Yeah, um – thanks …” he muttered, retrieving back into himself, grabbing the mugg and a tall glass, heading back to Dick with sense of defeat inside him.

***

“Are you crazy?!”

“Stop yelling!”

“But are you crazy?!” with the way Dick was tugging at Jason’s shirt it was truly a miracle that the younger brother did not end up drenched in and reeking of beer. “You had a chance! It was the perfect opportunity and you’re back here?! Please tell me you at least asked her out!”

“I –“

“Holy shit, Jason, you totally blew it.” Dick rubbed his forehead “Tell me you told her, you liked her!”

“Well-“

“Ok, fine, fine. Let’s lower the bar and the expectations there then. Tell me you told her she’s pretty.”

“I’m not telling the cliché that any drunk man would!”

“You’re hopeless. You are totally hopeless. My god, did I teach you nothing during all those years?!”

“Shut up, Dick!”

Too bad it was too late and Dick was already on a highway to making a scene and the biggest commotion this little suburban club has ever seen.

“Dick!” Jason hissed, feeling all eyes on them. All eyes except Y/N’s who was apparently ending her shift, cleaning some of the stuff from the counter and filling in her colleague.

“Quick! Fast!” Dick started pushing Jason towards her direction.

Mistake.

A little tip: if you ever try to push a 6 ft and 200 pounds man in any direction at all, make sure to make sure he expects it.

Otherwise, the mass of muscles may just subdue to the undeniable power of physics. Especially the gravity and the rules of dynamics. You know, the whole a body set in motion moves in a uniform motion and all shebang.

In Jason’s case it resulted in him losing the balance, falling backwards and stumbling upon unexpecting Y/N, crashing into her as they both ended on the floor with a very disturbing crack coming from somewhere.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Y/N? Are you okay? I am so sorry, I am so terribly sorry, how many fingers do you see-“

 “Ouch….” She groaned, reaching for the hand he was reaching towards her, letting him help her up. “Five?”

“Three. Close enough.”

“So you’re a sloth now?”

“huh?”

“Well, I said five fingers, you said three. Sloths have three fingers and – mh. Dry joke, sorry.”

“You must have hit your head pretty bad, huh?” he could swear to god, he had no idea where that joke came from, just slipped his mouth, but to his relief – she laughed. Not in a mean way, not at all. It was a genuine, happy laugh. He made her laugh.

“Yeah, maybe. I swear I am usually in a better shape.”

“I’d love to see that.” He muttered, and in his head it was just a thought never spoken aloud, but when she tilted her head and gave him a funny look, Jason realized he actually did just that. Spoke up. Bared himself to rejection, teasing, hurt, pain, depression –

“Ok.”

“Ok?” his eyes grew wider.

“Yes. Ok. I can give you a sample. And also you owe me.”

“Um, yeah, yeah, ok, so – “ he scratched his head awkwardly.

“I like coffee. And I have a day off tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay then so – “ say something you idiot! Say something! “there’s this little café at the 23rd and-“

“See you at 8.” She smiled, grabbed her coat and with a wave of her hand disappeared leaving him stunned.

He had a date. Ish. A meeting. A meeting with a girl he liked.

He could jump up from the sheer joy of this unexpected turn out of events, if it wasn;t for the one little fact ….

“RICHARD GRAYSON!!!”

The yelling could wake up the dead and sensing the incoming sequence of events, Dick quickly started moving through the crowd towards the exit.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

It seemed that after Red Hood was done with his job, Nightwing would be excluded from patrolling that night.

[green-cargaytions]

JAZZ IT UP - ✅ if there’s one thing to be said about 2024 it’s that i definitely did jazz it up!

DO IT SCARED - debatable. i think so?

DO IT BORED - see above

READ MORE BOOKS - ✅ yes i haven’t had a lot of time to read, but i did do so and enjoy it. i shojld rly keep track of what i read this year

CLIMB MORE TREES - ✅ the semi state tree is and will always be the love of my life

UNPRECEDENTED LEVELS OF FAGGOTRY - ✅ i would call this one a success

BREATHE, BREATHE, BREATHE - ehh i can always strive to breathe more

HUG YOUR FRIENDS - ✅ i have been told i hug like a velociraptor

WAFFLES AT IHOP - ✅ not waffles but i do have a specific order that i always get at ihop, and winter percussion season starting means MORE IHOP

INHABIT YOUR SPACE - mmm i had a hard time inhabiting myself this year and i’m struggling to inhabit the spaces i love because i know i have to leave them soon. room for growth on this one

CULTIVATE - ✅ winter makes this difficult but i did have a lot of love in my heart for grass and flowers and trees this year. my grape hyacinth whimsy <3

GRILLED CHEEMSE - i did not have enough grilled cheese sandwiches this year, and in a more general sense, i still struggle to prepare good food for myself. we keep working!

JAZZ IT UP MORE - ✅ you know what, i DID jazz it up. no matter if i don’t feel like i made any progress some days, i have. i have!!

CRINGEFAIL SWAG - ✅ oh brother you know i have this one down

FLOOR TIME - ✅ i am spreading this gospel truth to every member of the percussion section and also ap music theory

FROLICK IN A FIELD - ✅ i did in fact do this

LOVE HUGELY - ✅ it is painful but it is worth it and it is also something that is integral to me and i can’t change it anyway

LOVE SPECIFICALLY - ✅ i did fall in love with many people and things this year.

GET LIT - ? unclear what i meant by this. what does the general audience think

RINGMASTER OF THE SHITSHOW - ykw i could work harder to bring levity and self-control to upsetting situations. we keep working!!

FUCK NASTY - no comment

MORE JAZZ - ✅ UNDOUBTEDLY

DONT CHANGE YOURSELF SO OTHER PEOPLE WILL LIKE YOU - i did fail to keep this perspective in my mind some of the time. this one is a life long pursuit i fear

INHABIT SPACES THAT WERE NOT BUILT FOR YOU - ✅ i mean this in two ways: be comfortable with spaces that are not your “home territory,” and (ofc safely) inhabit spaces that were not meant for people like you. i think i made progress on both!

BUILD SPACES THAT ARE FOR YOU - ehh i did but i stressed myself out about it? idk. much to ponder

LET PEOPLE CARE ABOUT YOU - i will be honest i fully tanked this one especially in the latter half of the year. sigh. we will keep working!!!

GENDER IS A CARD GAME AND BROTHER I AM THE DEALER - i did not come out fully or start transitioning this year but i have begun to explore my style a little more and that’s exciting!

@boycritter @geodethecrow @sergeant-toast @goncharov-propaganda-factory @burntoutandproud @ anyone else, if you want to do a roundup or some or all of these or your own goals from 2024 feel free!!

2024:

JAZZ IT UP

DO IT SCARED

DO IT BORED

READ MORE BOOKS

CLIMB MORE TREES

UNPRECEDENTED LEVELS OF FAGGOTRY

BREATHE, BREATHE, BREATHE

HUG YOUR FRIENDS

WAFFLES AT IHOP

INHABIT YOUR SPACE

CULTIVATE

GRILLED CHEEMSE

JAZZ IT UP MORE

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 1, a familiar stranger

Masterlist Word count: 1.2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. No graphic content yet.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Did Rafayel find someone to rent my apartment yet,' Zayne questions as he puts two mugs of tea on your coffee table. You shrug in response. 

'Haven't heard anything yet, but knowing him, it'll probably be soon.' Zayne smiles at your sulking expression. He reaches out to ruffle a hand through your hair. You quickly smack his hand away and stare at him with pretend anger. 

'How have you been holding up without me?' That question is loaded, and he knows it. For the past four years, he has been your neighbor. But he has always been much more than that. 

When he noticed you were living on your own, he would sometimes bring over leftovers. Some days you would come home to a note taped on your door with a request to be quiet because he had a long shift and another even longer shift coming up. You started doing the same, but with notices if you had someone over or were doing something that could cause noise. Eventually, you two got to talking and formed a familial relationship. It always felt like you had a big brother looking out for you. 

Ever since he moved to the next city over to work in another hospital, you have missed him tons. Sometimes it hurts when you realize you can't just walk two steps from your front door and be talking to him. Meeting up is even more strenuous than it was before, and you miss him like crazy. It's not just the proximity though, no, it's also that you don't know everything going on in his life anymore. He's doing amazing things, meeting amazing people, helping to make the world a better place, and you barely know the names of his closest colleagues. 

'I'm fine,' but your voice betrays you, trembling throughout your words. Zayne's eyes look worried, and his hand moves to touch your shoulder to comfort you. 'I'm fine, really. Just getting used to being alone in the city again.' 

'You're not alone anymore. You've got Tara, and you get along alright with that new colleague of yours, right? Jeremiah?' 

'I know, it's just...' He reaches out to pull you into his chest. 

'I understand. I miss you too.' 

'I just hope the next person is nice too,' you mumble against his shirt while he gently rubs your back. All this feels so normal, so nice. You're not sure if you'll ever fully get over not living next to Zayne anymore. It was perfect, and now it's gone. You can't blame him though. This was a very important step for his career and you're glad he did it, it just makes you feel like you're stuck in the same place all over again.  

Everything just feels so stagnant, so normal. Like nothing ever changes. You can only tell that time has passed by your growing fingernails and the dust building up on your windowsill... You should really clean. It's been too long. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'This is nice,' Luke awes as he walks into Sylus’ new apartment. The place is completely empty and there's a bit of an echo, but he's right. The place is nice. That doesn't mean Sylus has to be happy about it. In fact, he's not even close to being done groaning and whining about being doxed for the third time. 

Sylus grumbles: 'My last place was nice.' Kieran nudges him over the threshold of the apartment. 

'Stop whining you big baby. Shit happens.' Sylus turns to him with a death glare. Kieran rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in defeat. 'Sorry man. There really isn't much else to say about it.' 

Sylus knows damn well that he's right, he's just not ready to admit it. That last place was a little bit special to him. It was the first place he moved into on his own after a long relationship. He knew his job would always be an obstacle in any relationship, but he thought she had gotten over it. She clearly hadn't.  

When his popularity skyrocketed, she left him. Told him she couldn't keep sharing him, no matter how many times he told her there was no one to share him with. She was part of the reason he started doing solo stuff. He even offered her to stop doing it. It wasn't even a big deal to him. That didn't matter to her. 

Luke and Kieran tried to get him back to who he was, yet even they couldn't ignore the fact that he became a little different. He distanced himself, became harsher, became colder. He wasn't particularly rude or anything, just a bit off-putting if you don't know him. 

'Anyway, I'm going to let your neighbor know we're moving you in this week,' Kieran states and quickly leaves the apartment. Luke gives Sylus a look. 

'What,' Sylus snaps at him. 

'Shouldn't you join him?' Sylus raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger and a lot more intimidating. 

'I just got doxed. Why would I go around introducing myself to everyone?' 

Luke just shrugs. Sylus antics don't do much to him anymore after knowing him so long. 'Fair enough.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The doorbell buzzes. It's ever so slightly longer than the average person would press a doorbell, and so ever so slightly more annoying. Mayorly more annoying because you were just dozing off cuddled up to Zayne on the couch. It has been a long time since that happened. 

You groan and shift, but Zayne tightens his grip. 'Don't go.' His voice is gravelly, tired, a little strained. For a little while you're considering it, but then the bell buzzes a second time. Longer this time. 

'It's just for a second,' you whisper back. He nods and his grip loosens. You get off his chest and quickly shuffle to the front door. When you open it, you have to take a few seconds to digest the picture in front of you. 'Kieran? Why are you here? Does Tara need something?' 

It seems his head short-circuits just like yours has as he takes a few seconds to answer. 'Eh, no. I didn't know you live here. I'm just... I'm helping a friend move in. I'm doing a round to warn people about the noise.' 

'Oh, good to know. Thank you. Who's your friend?' 

'His name is Sylus but he's a pretty private person, so I can't promise you he'll stop by to introduce himself.' 

'Fair enough,' you respond while you think back to how Zayne used to be. It was a similar situation. Took more than half a year before you two would even greet each other when passing in the hallway. 'Well, give Tara my best. I'll probably see you soon.' 

'I will. See ya.' 

'Who was that,' Zayne asks from the couch. 

'Friend of the new neighbor. He's moving in this week.' You grab your phone from the coffee table to check if Rafayel send anything about a new tenant, instead you see a notification from Red Crow's socials. A new post. 

"No smutty chapter this Friday. I have a busy week.   Maybe if you beg, I'll record myself getting off." 

Previous - Next

[sweetdispatch]

Rookie love - C. Bedard

pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!reader

summary: You and Connor live in the same building and work for Blackhawks. Slowly, you two are falling for each other and he made a cute date for you

warning: none

words: 2.5k

note: my first connor fic yay! based on this request and honestly it lowkey makes me want to do a whole AU with this theme haha

hughes!reader masterlist

---

It was a tough decision for you. You were just an 18 year old girl who decided to move out all the way to Chicago to study public relations. You could stay in Michigan but the vision of being compared to your older brothers, Quinn and Luke who also had been studying there, wasn’t tempting. You wanted to work on your own brand and name far away from there.

Your parents weren’t the happiest when you announced your decision because you were the youngest kid and with your moving to Chicago, it meant that they will be alone without any kids around. Despite the fact, they had your back and fully supported you and understood your point of view. They even helped you to rent an apartment so you don’t have to live in a dorm. 

Quinn, Jack and Luke weren’t surprised when you shared the news with them, knowing how much you had been struggling in high school with questions about them and being used by your “friends” in the past only because you had famous siblings. Quinn proposed that you can always move to him in Vancouver but you wanted to be independent and the vision of moving to Canada wasn’t something you were craving. 

The year you arrived in Chicago, Connor started playing in his rookie season for the Blackhawks. In fact, he was your neighbor and lived right across the hall from you. He also moved there without his family and had to be independent. At first, you didn’t care about it. You were always saying hello to each other when you two saw each other in the hall but nothing more.

Things changed with time when thanks to your great results in college you got an internship in social media for the Chicago Blackhawks. You were excited and grateful for the opportunity. Your dream always was to work in social media and being capable of doing this in a hockey team when you were raised in a hockey family was incredible. You called your parents to tell them about this and they were proud of you. Finally, your hard work paid off.

In January, you started your internship and quickly became one of the most important people in creating content for social media. Thanks to your young age, new ideas and jumping into trends, the Chicago Blackhawks became one of the best teams in social media. Fans loved the content and people rooting for other teams also found it funny. 

Connor was 1st overall pick and star of the team so you pushed him to do some of the videos for the social media. He wasn’t the happiest because he was shy in front of the camera but you always tried your hardest to make him feel as comfortable as possible. You were also a shy person and you totally understood him. He was delighted to have you as a support and creating content with you wasn’t as scary as it was earlier. 

You and Connor lived in the same apartment building and always were returning from his training or games together. He was more than happy to give you a ride back home. In the first two weeks of your internship, you two bonded and became friends. Both of you had been the same age and lived alone, far away from parents. During roadies, you were staying in Chicago since you had college and many times you received texts from Connor.

They tell me to do this and I don’t want to.

Why have you abandoned me? 

Can you tell them to leave me alone? 

Promise me that you’ll go on the next roadie so I can have support from you behind the camera.

With every message like that, your heart was growing bigger. You didn’t know how much of an impact you have on him and feeling comfortable. You wanted to be there for him but you couldn’t drop college because Connor was shy. You promised him to talk with the others to leave him alone during away games but it wasn’t in your competence to dictate who’s gonna be on the video.

While Connor was away, you were taking care of his apartment and basically cleaned and cooked for him in your free time. When you entered his place for the first time, you could tell that he’s struggling being alone just like you and you wanted him to feel that he has someone on who he can lay on. You had experience with boys since you had three brothers and knew what to do so he could open up. 

Connor was more than grateful to have you. At first, he thought that you’re just a social media girl who’s living in the same building but with time, he saw how much you’re doing for him inside and outside of the work. He wanted to pay you back and always surprised you with flowers and coffee when he knew that you had a rough day in college. 

These small gestures turned into daily dinners and movies. After games, Connor was taking you out on a dinner to later finish the day with a movie in your apartment. It was a cute but meaningful moment between you two. You started talking more and more, he finally opened up and felt that he has a real friend and is not alone. 

Both of you were falling for each other. You two had similar personalities and tried to stay out of the spotlight. You were Connor’ biggest fan and he was your rock. Almost every single day you two were seeing each other even if it meant only for 5 minutes. He knew your schedule perfectly and always tried to give you a donut with coffee before you were heading on college. You also knew his schedule and after every roadie, you were at his apartment preparing meals for him, knowing that he must be tired from flying around America and Canada. It was like an unwritten rule between you. 

When you had been working with the Blackhawks, Connor was more than happy to see you there and was willing to do a content with you. The rest of the team was surprised but no one questioned it. They all thought that it’s because he feels more comfortable around you since you are the same age. It was partially true. He was willing to do content while you were around because he loved to spend time with you. 

Connor’ teammates and other people working in social media never noticed anything unusual in the behaviour between you two. You two kept the friendship and feeling privately and shared it when only two of you were alone. In March, your internship was over but the team offered you full time work in social media. You were beyond happy for this and couldn’t wait for the 2024-2025 season to start so you can work there. 

When you told this to Connor, he smiled like a kid in a candy store. At first, he was sad that you won’t be around for the next 1,5 months but after he heard that you’ll be working there full time, he was the happiest person. You were confident that he was happier about this than you. In that moment, he gained confidence to ask you out on a date. You gladly accepted his invitation and the two of you spent an incredible evening the next day. 

After the season was over for Chicago, Connor decided to stay there for a little longer knowing that you have exams in May. You were always there for him in his lows and highs and he wanted to do the same for you. He was hanging out in your apartment all the time, even if that meant that he had to watch a tv show while you’re studying. Those silent, cute moments made him realise that he wants you as his girlfriend. 

Connor started planning a cute date after your exams when he could ask you to be his girlfriend. In the past 5 months, you two shared a lot of moments together and learned a lot about each other. That’s why instead of a boring date in a restaurant, he planned a day full of attractions to ask you to be his at the end. He was proud of himself but also scared of your reaction. 

“Since we're leaving in a couple of days I was thinking that maybe we could spend a day together?” Connor asked you in the middle of a movie that you two had been watching. 

“But we’re already spending everyday together” You giggled and saw redness growing on his face.

“Yeah but I was thinking about going out, more like… exploring the city” He replied shyly and you smiled at him. 

“I would love that, do you have a plan what to do or are we gonna figure it out tomorrow?” You asked excitedly. 

“I… I actually have a plan already but if you want we can change it” Connor started to ramble and you stopped him.

“We don’t have to, I trust you with your plan” 

“Great, umm how about I’ll pick you around 10AM tomorrow?” 

“Sounds perfect” You smiled and the two of you returned to watching a movie. 

It’s now or never Connor thought.

As Connor promised, he knocked at your door at 10AM. He had flowers in his hand that he bought earlier. He was nervous but he knew there’s nothing scary in you but he was still overthinking this whole day. You opened the door and welcomed him. He was in awe of how gorgeous you looked in your dress. From the nerves, he kept the flowers in his hand instead of giving them to you. 

“Are those flowers for me?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah, sorry” He gave you the flowers and you quickly put them in a vase.

“Shall we go?” You asked him. 

“Yes, I’m right behind you” 

Two of you left your apartment and went into a parking lot. Connor opened the passenger door for you and you thanked him. All the nerves went out of him when you started talking to him about your summer plans. It felt natural between the two of you. The next 20 minutes you were talking about how you are gonna spend the free months. He stopped the car and opened the door for you. 

“I know you didn’t have breakfast so I thought it would be nice to grab donuts and coffee and go to the park” Connor said and you smiled at him. 

“You know me too well” You joked.

Connor ordered your favorite donuts and coffee and you were smiling all the time standing next to him because he remembered those little details about you. When you two got the order, you walked into a park and sat on a bench while eating and joking. After you finished your breakfast, he stood up and you followed him. For the next hour, you two have been walking around the park with coffee in your hands. 

When Connor saw that you’re getting tired, he knew it’s time for another attraction. You two went to his car and he drove you to a place that you always wanted to visit but never had time. It was the Museum of Illusion and it was on your bucket list to get here one day. You were surprised that he remembered this detail because you told him about it months ago. 

You were so excited to go there and Connor was excited for you. For another couple hours you two had been walking around the museum having fun and taking lots of pictures. It was the first time you saw him fully comfortable with taking pictures and you couldn’t be happier that he feels safe around you. Smiles couldn’t disappear from both of your faces.

It was already 4PM when you two left the museum and you were starting to get hungry. Connor had this already planned and drove you to McDonalds to get food. Again, he remembered that you said to him that this is your guilty pleasure food and you could eat it every single day. When you two got the food, you decided to sit in the car and eat in a parking lot while chatting. This day was already perfect but he had one more thing planned. 

Now it was the most nervous part for Connor. He booked a boat trip for you two and after it he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend. The day was perfect and he didn't want to ruin it. He started to overthink this again but your monologue about wanting to adopt a cat brought him back to reality. He was smiling at the thought of you having a cat because he knew you'd be great with him. After 30 minutes, he parked a car and led you to a boat. 

“You mentioned how much you miss home and spending days on a boat so I thought we could have a boat evening here” He shrugged.

“It’s perfect, I love the idea” You hugged him and he swore that he felt butterflies in his stomach. 

You two walked on the boat and sat here quietly watching the busy city. It was incredible to stop and just relax while enjoying each other's presence. You cuddled into him and he gladly put his hand on you. It was a gentle move but you loved it. You were so in love with him and this day just proved to you that Connor is the guy you want forever. After an hour, you returned to the land and you smiled at him widely.

“Thank you for today. It was the best day of my life” You pecked his cheek and saw a blush on his face. 

“It was a pleasure for me to make your day better but I need to ask you something” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/N and I want you as more than a friend. Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked you and you froze in a spot. A boy that you love wants you. After a couple seconds you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I would love to be your girlfriend. You mean the world to me and I’ll be more than happy to be yours” Connor felt relief when you agreed. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked you shyly.

“You don’t have to ask, you’re my boyfriend” You chuckled and the next thing you felt was his lips on yours. It was a passionate kiss full of emotions and love. You couldn’t be happier than today.

yourusername

liked by _connorbedard and 2352 others

yourusername I think I fall in love...🤍

jackhughes You what???

lhughes_06 You have a lot to explain young lady when you get back home.

_quinnhughes That the reason why I was against you going to different city

25 May 2024

[shitpostingkats]

Let's think about this whole series of events from Nahyuta's perspective real quick. You're doing your normal work things (you travel a lot) when suddenly out of the blue your little brother who you've kinda resigned yourself to never seeing again shows up AT YOUR JOB. And you both have a lot of issues regarding this so you don't exactly talk but it's still wild it happened. Well time to leave the country and probably never see him again. Except you go back home and this american tourist is at your office and he's like hey I heard you were picking on my employee. And it TURNS OUT your little brother not only went into the same field as you (makes sense), he also works for this random american guy who for some reason is in your home country on vacation (makes less sense). Just when you think things can't get any worse, your second dad breaks out of prison, shows up to your work and calls you by your dumb childhood nickname in front of all your coworkers.

[skyward-floored]

I’ve been in a Sky mood lately lol. So for prompts maybe something angsty with him? Like him getting used to life after being trapped on the island for years? Or one of the boys trying to reassure themselves that he’s actually back?

I saw this prompt and went HEHEHE I do enjoy me my angst. Especially Incredibles au Sky angst (sorry Sky bdhdbdbdhd)

I sort of mixed your two prompts together? It’s mostly the first one, but there’s hints of the second. And also a different thing entirely XD Enjoy!

(Also warning for a character getting a flashback. It’s seen from an outside perspective, but here’s your warning just in case.)

————————————————————

Sometimes Warriors still couldn’t believe Sky was back.

After over a year of trying to come to terms with his disappearance, wrestling with hope and denial and grief, going to his funeral for Hylia’s sake— having him suddenly come back was... earth-shattering. In a good way, of course, but sometimes Warriors caught himself falling into the pattern of endless questions on what had happened, and had to remind himself that he knew now.

Sky had been tricked, lured away, fought for survival while being hunted within an inch of his life, and then finally made it home alive. Though... not without scars.

Ones that sometimes caught Warriors off guard.

The afternoon it happened, Warriors had stopped at Sky’s to drop off some things he’d borrowed, and ended up staying and talking much longer than he’d intended. He wasn’t complaining though. After thinking he’d never get moments like this again, he’d spend every waking hour with his brother if he could.

“...So then Aryll told me she made a new friend, and asked me if I wanted to meet her, and of course I said yes. I should’ve known better, because five seconds later she whistles, and this huge vulture lands in front of me,” Sky said with a wave of his hand, and Warriors laughed. “I know! Where did she even meet a vulture?!”

“Probably the same place she met those geese that one time,” Warriors said with a grin, and Sky joined his laughter that time.

“Oh I’m sure. She has plenty of bird connections,” he chuckled, leaning back with his wings stretched out on either side of himself. He picked up his glass of water and drank some of it before he continued. “I’m sure she’ll have quite the message system worked out when she’s older.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Warriors smirked. “Heck you won’t even need the mail service if she keeps up like this, just ask her to send letters via pigeon.”

“Hm that’s true... I’d never have to buy stamps again,” Sky said thoughtfully.

“Hey now, don’t forget those stamps help pay my salary,” Warriors grinned. A truck outside beeped as it backed up, and Warriors glanced out the window, before looking back inside. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying... Sky?”

Sky had completely frozen in place, his glass of water slipping from his hand.

Warriors quickly shot out a hand as it hit the floor, freezing the puddle before it could spread, then got off his chair and hurried to Sky’s side. The cup hadn’t broken so he left it where it was, and he looked worriedly at his brother.

“Sky? Are you okay?” he asked urgently, and a tremor wracked through Sky, his eyes glazing over. He’d been fine literal seconds ago, what was wrong? “...Sky?”

“We need to hide,” Sky whispered, his voice hoarse.

Warriors blinked. “What?”

Sky swallowed, shaking as he stared into the middle distance. “We need to hide, they’re coming,” he stressed in a croak, his breathing starting to pick up. “Guardians, they’re close.”

“Sky... there are no guardians here,” Warriors said in confusion, and Sky shook his head, ears twitching.

“There’s one right over there,” he gasped, his breath trembling. “We need to hide, it’s going to—”

“Sky, no there isn’t,” Warriors said slowly, sitting down beside his brother. “There’s nothing there.”

“B-but—” Sky stuttered, twisting his head around to look at the wall. A bead of sweat trailed down his brow. “Yes it is. It is, it’s coming, we need to hide now.”

Sky pulled his wings in close to his body, feathers puffing up, and Warriors looked at him in dismay, unsure of what to do. He knew enough to recognize Sky was having some sort of flashback, but he didn’t know how to help him out of it.

The truck outside beeped again, and Sky violently flinched, nearly falling off the couch as his feathers puffed out even more. Warriors looked between him and the window, then carefully stood and walked over to it, closing it and blocking out the sound. Sky didn’t visibly react to the quiet, and Warriors went back over to him, watching as he trembled in place.

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors began carefully as he sat back down. “You haven’t been there for weeks now. And I wasn’t ever on the island. How can I be here with you if we’re on the island?”

“I-I...” Sky stammered, his voice faltering. Then he suddenly snatched Warriors’ wrists, eyes huge. “Wars they got you too, you shouldn’t have come, it’s going to be like everyone else,” he choked out, still shaking. “We have to hide!”

Sky began tugging at his wrists, but Warriors resisted the movement, staying where he was. “Sky, there’s no danger.”

“Yes there is! I have a base right over there, we can get to it if we hurry, we can’t let him—”

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors repeated, slipping his wrists out of Sky’s hold and taking his hands instead. His skin felt clammy. “I promise you we’re not. We’re in your house. We’re safe.”

Sky kept shaking, but he didn’t argue the point, and Warriors felt a flicker of encouragement when he didn’t keep tugging on his hands.

“You’re not back there,” Warriors repeated, and Sky squeezed his eyes shut, another bead of sweat trailing down his brow. “You’re in your house, on the couch in your living room. Sun is at work, and Aryll is taking a nap. Nobody is in any danger.”

Sky trembled in his seat, his eyes still closed tight, and Warriors lightly squeezed his hands, waiting for him to come back. His eyes reopened, still looking glazed, but less so than before.

“Come on Link,” Warriors whispered, looking into Sky’s eyes. “You’re safe here, I promise. Nothing is trying to hurt you.”

Sky swallowed, and Warriors stayed beside him, watching as his feathers slowly began to smooth. Warriors repeated the reassurance that they weren’t on the island, and he kept it up as Sky’s frantic breathing started to even out, and his eyes gradually cleared.

It felt like a long time before Sky’s shoulders slumped, his wings falling limp as he took in a shaky breath. He was still trembling, but much more lightly, and Warriors studied his face.

“You back?” Warriors asked carefully, and Sky looked at his lap, shame coloring his face.

“I... I think so. Sorry,” Sky whispered.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Warriors said easily, but Sky kept looking at his lap, ears red.

Warriors looked at him worriedly, then lightly squeezed his hands, pulling back so he could deal with the frozen puddle on the floor. He easily pried it up and shaped it into a small ball, then set it on the table, looking back at Sky again.

“Hey. I mean it,” Warriors said when he saw his expression, lightly touching Sky’s shoulder, light enough that he could pull away if he wanted. Sky didn’t, and so Warriors held it a bit tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.”

“I was the one stupid enough to go there,” Sky muttered under his breath, and Warriors frowned.

“Sky, you were tricked. You thought you were doing something good, it’s not your fault,” Warriors repeated, and Sky didn’t meet his eyes. Warriors sighed. “That looked pretty rough. Do you want some water?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Sky said quietly.

Warriors nodded and stood, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he grabbed Sky’s glass and headed to the kitchen to refill it. It only took him a moment, and when he returned, Sky hadn’t moved, still staring at his lap, faintly trembling, wings lightly wrapped around himself.

Warriors passed him the cup, and Sky silently took it, sipping without a word.

“You need anything else?” Warriors asked, and Sky shook his head. Warriors hummed in reply, then paused as he thought of something. It wasn’t Warriors’ go-to, but Sky usually appreciated physical contact much more than him, especially since he’d been back. “...maybe a hug?”

Sky finally looked up, still shaky and pale, and gave a tiny nod.

Warriors gave him a sad smile, then leaned in, wrapping his arms around his brother.

Sky was stiff for a moment, then practically melted into the touch, a wavering sigh coming from him. He pressed his face against Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors lightly rubbed his back, feeling equally reassured by the touch. He knew Sky had been through a lot, but the blatant show of it had been a bit frightening.

Oh Sky.

“I’m such a disaster,” Sky said in a wobbly voice, and Warriors sighed.

“Anyone would be. Truth be told, I think most of us became disasters while you were gone, so you’re in good company.”

Sky let out a wet snort, and Warriors squeezed him, Sky still shaking just a little.

“Has this happened before?” Warriors asked after a minute, pulling back so he could see Sky’s face, and Sky shrugged.

“Not... to that extent,” he admitted quietly. “There’ve been... things, but not...”

He trailed off weakly, and Warriors nodded. That was about what he’d figured.

“Okay. We’ll figure this out. Just like old times, huh?” Warriors said with a faint smile, and Sky huffed.

“Yeah. Can’t say I miss that side of things,” he mumbled, and Warriors squeezed his arm again.

“I’ll stay until Sun comes back,” he reassured quietly, and Sky nodded, silently resting his head against Warriors’ shoulder again.

Neither of them said much else after that, and Warriors idly played with the piece of ice on the table, Sky watching him quietly as he shaped it into a small bird. Warriors added some ice to it, and worked on shaping it into a slightly bigger one.

Sky stayed silent as he leaned against him, and Warriors tried not to stare, worry clenching in his stomach. Nightmares were common enough between them, though they’d gotten better as the years had gone on. Warriors had practice with those, and panic attacks, and a small list of the other crap they all dealt with after their superhero careers, but this... felt way out of his league.

We’ll figure this out, he promised silently, adding small feathers to the bird he was shaping in his palms. Sky breathed out a weary sigh, and Warriors swallowed.

We will. We’ll figure it out.

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Sleeping Beauty AU?

@sixerstanley Here had this HUGE big brain idea and I immediately sprung into action to write a little something about it.

Basically, they read a merlin fic where a spell made it seem like Merlin was dead, but he was basically asleep and aware of everything going on. Arthur was not having a good time. (trauma and pain ensues) I'm going to replicate it, based on the idea alone.

(Also, I had no idea this would turn into an almost 4k oneshot, oops! Color me inspired, I guess! I can do this, but not my actual fan fiction. LMAO!)

Suffer with me. (JK, enjoy. XD )

For the first time in weeks, Ford had allowed himself a full night's rest downstairs. Why not reward himself, just this once? The rift is sealed, the universe is safe, and things are slowly getting back to normal. Or as normal as they get in the pathetic excuse for what used to be his home.

Ford still has a hard time calling it what it is, 'The Mystery Shack' is a little on the nose, isn't it? The exhibits are hardly anything close to a mystery. They're botched taxidermy projects.

Insults. That's what they are.

A slap in the face to his life's work.

Whatever, that's not his problem right now. Coffee is the first order of business.

It's early and no one else is awake, but the coffee pot is still hot with a fresh pot. One cup appears to be missing. Stanley must be awake then.

Ford takes his time pouring the life-bringing liquid into his favorite cup (it is amazing Stanley didn't break it or lose it after all these years) and adding in ample sugar, and a dash of cream for color.

He adds a single ice cube to cool it faster, listening to the sounds of the house. It's silent, too quiet.

Ford can't help that even in a peaceful environment it puts him on edge.

The TV is off and a walk through the living room reveals Stanley isn't sitting on the couch. The first-floor bathroom light is off, door is slightly ajar, but empty.

That's weird.

He really shouldn't be looking for his brother anyway since the only good that will do is start another fight. It's too early for that.

Ford settles back in the kitchen, hovering near the window and sipping his cup watching the clock on the wall tic on. Minutes pass.

The silence is no longer just putting him on edge, it's sounding alarms.

Why? There is nothing dangerous here in the house, they are perfectly safe here now that Bill has been dealt with.

What then?

To put his own stupid mind to rest he leaves the empty cup in the sink and goes upstairs to the attic, checking on Dipper and Mabel.

They are both still fast asleep in their beds. Dipper, drooling on his pillow with half the blanket on the floor. Mabel, hair stuck up in all directions, clutching one of her many stuffed animals like it might try to escape.

Waddles is here too, curled up on its makeshift bed on the floor.

He stays just long enough to ensure they are all breathing, and sleeping soundly, before noiselessly going back downstairs.

The second floor is as empty as the first, including Stanley's poor excuse for a room. It is a mess of half-packed boxes, several trash bags, and the always-unmade bed.

Soon enough the house will be normal again.

Stanley will be gone, the kids will go home- (Perhaps they'll visit again next summer? It's a shame Dipper can't stay) and the Mystery Shack business will be over forever.

This once secluded corner of the valley will be that way again, his haven away from prying eyes. And tourists.

With the interior of the house cleared that only leaves the yard and porch.

Ford makes his way out onto the one Stanley finds the most use out of and the worry he hadn't realized to be carrying vanishes. There he is, sitting back dead asleep on the disgusting couch. How old is that thing? It appears to be growing several kinds of mold along the bottom because of the constant rain this region gets.

One hand is barely holding onto Stan's coffee cup, the arm of the couch holding it up while its owner sleeps.

"Seriously, Stanley? Being old doesn't give you an excuse to sleep anywhere, much less flash the local wildlife in little more than boxers." It's a good dig, in his opinion, and he speaks loud enough to rouse Stanley despite how hard of hearing he has become over the years.

Except no quick response comes.

Stanley doesn't so much as twitch in his spot on the couch.

The fear comes back-

Oh, don't be ridiculous!

"Very funny, Stanley." He lets the door close, quietly, before moving to stand in front of his brother, hands on either hip.

He looks, really looks, at Stan.

And sees nothing good.

The first notable, and most concerning finding, is that his brother isn't breathing. He waits, watching, assuming this to be a breath hold.

A joke.

But that isn't the only concerning evidence. Stanley's eyes are also halfway open, looking over the yard. Empty.

Not funny anymore, very much NOT funny!

Ford does not panic, not yet. He moves and picks up the cup, plucking it out of his brother's hand- It lacks any strength, like taking a toy from a child.

"Stanley? Wake up. Very good joke, you got me. Stop it now." He kneels on the couch, next to him, after setting the cup aside on the porch by their feet.

For the second time since coming home, Ford touches Stanley. This time with a kinder hold, reaching up to press two fingers along the pulse point between the jaw and collar bone, off to the side of the Adam's apple.

Nothing.

'One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten-'

He could count on one hand the number of times true panic has overtaken him in his lifetime. It isn't a luxury one can often afford when coming face to face with death constantly in the multiverse-

But what harm can come of it when someone is already dead?

His hand stays right where it is, tucked into the still-warm skin-

"No, this isn't funny-" But Ford's voice shakes and he snatches the hand away quickly. If he can't feel the lack of pulse, it's not there. Simple.

How didn't he notice? When did this happen?

What happened?

No- Ford turns, looking around the peaceful yard. Dew covers the grass, the sun peaked up about half an hour ago basking the clearing in pink and yellow hues.

There isn't any blood.

Death is messy. He has seen it countless times, but it is never, ever, peaceful. Knives, guns, cracking bones, broken bodies...

Looking back at Stanley none of that is present. The skin is still pink, and warm, eyes open but- Dead.

No. That can't be. It just can't.

Stanley looks almost peaceful, asleep. His coffee, barely a sip or two taken from the looks of it. "No."

Panic takes many different forms. Initially, instinctively, Ford looked for the cause. It had to be someone, something, who did this. Who took his brother?

But there is nothing, no one, in sight. No blood.

"Stanley, who-" His feet stop, body stalling, in the middle of turning back from the yard to look at the corpse...

He had been about to ask, to question who did this. But a dead body can't answer. A dead body, a corpse.

There is a distinction between a vessel and a person, or so Ford had always thought.

Everyone dies and until then you live inside and pilot your body. Someday, it becomes a corpse and you leave it behind.

That is such a cold and callous way to look at it, in retrospect. Because this, is Stanley. He's just- Gone.

With quick hands, Ford begins looking, almost in a frenzy, for the cause.

No blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No perforations to the abdomen, arms, nothing. There is nothing.

But that's not possible, people don't just-

Except they do. Sometimes-

No. NO! Not them, not him! Stanley Pines wouldn't just die, not without a fight!

Death doesn't play favorites, anyone can go, anytime-

"Shut up! No, he wouldn't! He wouldn't leave me!" It comes out in a shout and shakes him.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

He never allowed himself to think very far into the future, how could he? Everything was always changing and it was better to live in the now anyway. So long as you were safe now, other things could be handled later-

Except later doesn't always wait for you to be ready. Time has its own plans and you have to work around it or something-

Stanley wasn't supposed to die. Isn't! he can't be-

Except-

There are no obvious injuries, but then again there don't have to be. They may not be old, but they're old enough. Brain aneurysms take hold suddenly, killing the affected almost instantly.

Leaving barely enough time to set down a cup of coffee-

Or a heart attack?

No, Stanley would have come inside, asked for help-

Wouldn't he?

"You idiot!" It comes out in a hiss from where Ford has shifted. He's kneeling right next to Stanley, hand on either shoulder, looking at his half-open but- Dead. Dead eyes. Empty. Gone.

Soulless.

Ford isn't sure who he's talking to. Himself? or Stanley? Both?

"I would have helped you, we could have called someone, I-" He has to pull away, sinking down into the empty space of the couch to hide the tears springing up without permission.

This can't be happening. Things weren't supposed to end like this-

Oh yeah, how was it supposed to go then?

With you, kicking him out next week? Leaving him homeless, again, just like Pa?

"Stop it! I don't know, not like this!" Stanley was always the stronger between them, persevering through everything no matter what happened.

Is this my fault?

What a stupid question.

It forces him to sit up again, one hand covering his face while half peering out at Stanley.

Of course it is. What did you expect? That he would take his life being uprooted lying down?

Did he do this on purpose?

In the rush to pick up the cup of coffee Ford almost knocks it over but finds he can't hold it without spilling some of it over the sides, down onto the porch, anyway. He is left with no choice but to set it back down to avoid wasting the sample.

Maybe.

Ford takes both a physical and mental step back, leaning against one of the columns holding up the roof over the porch, to look around.

Breathing is getting a little more difficult, coming in tight short inhales and smaller and smaller exhales.

What better way to get back at me? Thirty years of a life spent learning math, science, and engineering skills well beyond any normal human's comprehension, for what?

To get a brother back who first chance he got told him to pack it up and get out?

"What kind of brother am I?"

The kind who would rather be right than-

Then apologize. Forgive. Make up. Let go.

And now, it's too late. The train left the station, Stanley is gone, and its all my fault.

"He died thinking I hated him." That realization is what breaks the decade-old dam, tears finally escaping. Ford closes the distance, sitting on the stupid couch and pulling Stanley over into a hug, even if he's not here to feel it.

The lack of strong, still buff, arms encircling him, returning the sentiment only makes him cry harder into the thin and crappy tank top Stanley must have worn to bed.

"I'm sorry." He chokes out between sobs, "I thought I'd have more time, you'd have more time. I didn't think- How could I?" Nothing he's saying is making much sense.

The ramblings of a heartbroken lunatic.

As if we really deserve to be upset, like you'd of cared if it wasn't life or death-

Maybe his own thoughts are right. If Stanley had been alive, sitting here, having his morning coffee they would have traded morning insults before going their separate ways.

But that's not the reality they live in. This one is much worse, much darker.

I spent so much time running away, trying to break apart, and be unique. No longer part of a broken pair, or what I saw as one, I-

"I never expected to miss it when the other half was gone." He is still shaking, refusing to let go, with thoughts still scrambled in a million different directions.

CPR wouldn't do any good now, although it's a nice thought. If Stanley came out here directly after preparing his coffee then that was almost twenty minutes ago, give or take-

Oh god. What about the kids?

Without letting go Ford checks the time on his watch, wincing. A few hours at most, but he'll have to call the coroner-

What does he do?

For the first time, possibly ever, Ford feels lost.

Not only because his twin is currently dead, which is already world-ending, but everything that comes with it.

Who does he say the corpse belongs to? Stanley Pines has been dead for decades-

Is that why he did this? So that Ford could slot right back into his old life, fixing the broken and shattered history? No. This had to be an accident-

Only the testing of the coffee will confirm it or not.

Ford has never had to stick around and deal with a dead body before. Moving on was easier, and necessary. He can't remember attending a funeral, other than their great aunts when they were barely seven.

That's not the same. He'll have to make arrangements, put together pictures, and give a speech-

About a life he knows nothing about.

"God, I'm sorry Stanley. I'm so sorry." It feels safe to let his voice break here. No one is around to see how completely destroyed he feels. "All you ever did was love me, and I pushed you away. I crushed it, refused, and now..."

"Now you're gone. I can't even remember the last time I told you that I love you, but I do. So much, more than I could ever handle." Ford can't let go, but he does shift back to look at his brother's face, holding his limp body with one hand and clearing his own tears with the other.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad I'm here. Thank you, for bringing me back." He has to close his eyes, fresh tear tracks spilling across both cheeks, "Even if only so I could say goodbye. I'm glad I got that, at least. If only you were here-"

With a broken voice, Ford can't stand looking at Stan like this anymore. He reaches up, closing both eyes with feather-light fingers, before leaning close to press them forehead to forehead. Just like when they were young. Before everything.

It's odd. How fast do corpses cool? Not that Ford is going to complain. It lets him pretend, just for a few more moments, that Stanley isn't gone. That they could have this again.

Too little, too late.

"I love you, Stanley." It comes out broken and cruel, like the universe is mocking him. What was the point in protecting them from Bill if death came knocking anyway?

For the first time since coming home, Ford understands.

Finally, he can see why Stanley wasted so much of his life trying to bring him back. Because he loves so much, so big. To his own detriment.

He would do anything, even destroy the world, to have Ford by his side again.

"I'm so sorry, you deserved so much better." How different could things of been?

What would Stanley of done instead? Gotten married? Had kids?

A better family, that's for sure.

Ford knows he can't stay here forever. He needs to let go, head inside, and make some phone calls. To tell Soos to close the shack for the day, get an ambulance to bring Stanley to the morgue.

He needs to prepare for when the kids wake up and figure out what to tell them.

But first, he indulges himself a little bit more by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Stanley's lips. It smells of coffee, cigars, and denture cream, but Ford can't detect any sort of drug or chemical from close proximity alone. It's nice.

Not what you'd expect from a corpse, but it's enough.

A goodbye, a real one in a weird broken way. Just their luck.

The absolute last thing Ford expects, upon starting to pull away, is to feel the body still pressed very tight to his own take in a very deep breath followed by Stanley's discarded hands coming up to grab at him.

"Stanley!" His voice is still broken, mixed with anger and joy in a typhoon of confusion.

And Stanley? He has the nerve to laugh!

"Don't think you're walking away from that so easily!" No longer locked inside his own body without the ability to do anything it's a relief to be able to breathe. But even better, he can pull Ford over on top of his lap, locking one leg in place against the side of the couch.

"Excuse me! I thought you were dead! What the fuck, Stanley! You can't just go around pretending to be dead to mess with people! What if the kids had found you, or Soos, or Wendy?! You would have scared them half to death, you scared me half to death!"

Truly, it's a complicated story. One Stan is pretty sure Ford doesn't want to hear right now when his mind is running a mile a minute.

He has other things that need to be said instead of explaining whoever that weird wizard was who came out of the forest.

Forcibly Stanley grabs Ford's face, bringing him down so they are face to face again, leaving no room for argument in their close proximity. "Shut up, will you?"

Being locked in was sort of a blessing because participating in the conversation is so much harder than he thought it would be moments ago. He steals his nerves anyway, "I love you too, I'm not dead, and I'm pretty sure forty years should have made you a better kisser than that. Otherwise, I've got my work cut out for me. Try again."

By now Ford's face is bright red both out of anger at being tricked and embarrassment at their current position. But Stanley's hands are no longer weak, holding him tightly in place. Not that he seriously wants to argue anyway.

Stan waits, but the longer Ford stares, the more unsure he becomes. Maybe he misunderstood? Or maybe Ford just has a thing for corpses and now that he isn't one, the interest is gone.

Fair enough, Stan knows he isn't much to look at. Age wasn't as kind to him as it was to Ford. All lean muscles, few wrinkles, and barely greying hair. It's stupid, really.

It would be hypocritical to go right back to being mad, wouldn't it?

Just because Stanley isn't dead now, doesn't mean he won't be next time. Or the time after that.

Anything could happen.

Ford knows he should pull away. They should talk about what the hell just happened. He should move off his brother's damn lap!

Or, he could give in to the very thing he's spent two-thirds of their lives running from. The details and tough conversation can be hashed out later, right?

It's the hold on his jaw loosening that yanks Ford out of his spinning thoughts back to the present. Stanley is pulling away, looking down-

How long was he lost in thought? It couldn't have been more than twenty seconds. Did he change his mind? No, then why does he look so-

Well. Stanley looks the same as he always does.

Oh. Briefly, for a few seconds, Stanley was being brave. He opened up and showed his hand. Let himself be vulnerable.

Idiot!

His hands had never fully left Stan's shoulders, but he tightens their grip now, shifting one up to cup along the underside of his jaw. He doesn't feel the need to say anything, because neither of them has ever really been good with words.

He leans down, surprising them both, with a much more insistent kiss.

A hello. And maybe? A new beginning.

[septembersung]

Gonna keep live-blogging my homeschool day because I can and it’s motivating.

Day 2.

On the docket for today is another partial day because we have an Event. On the other hand, we’ve been living like cave gremlins so we may not make it. We need to go, or at least the kids do I’m a hermit, but we may not. But at least we’re only an hour behind schedule today, not three.

The ideal order of operations today goes like this:

I quit typing this, get ready to go, wake up children, and make breakfast and snack. We eat breakfast and pack the snack.

Morning time (prayers, sing hymn, introduce a new folk song, briefly review the Greek and German vocab introduced yesterday, learn 1 new Greek word and 1 new German phrase [ask me about TalkBox.mom! They should pay me for all the free advertising I do for them], math facts if time, skip other elements except possibly wiggle busters

Form 2 does their independent work - reading and narrations, math, and typing lesson - while I work with Form 1 and shadows (the littles.) I have to pause between elements with Form 1 to hear the narrations which are oral. Somehow I bilocate to also answer math questions. Form 1 will finish their Latin lesson and read to me from their reader with accompanying handwriting. Littles may listen in while coloring or doing other quiet table time activities. If they’re wiggling and playing well together I’ll send them to the playroom. This entire block of time is cut short because we have to drive, who knows how much will actually get done, maybe none.

We leave for group event. I do not forget our materials or the snack. This event is for girls so I may make my son bring his readings to finish before he has recess with the other brothers (a tried and true method, and he’s not the only one.)

Afterwards I pick up my library books and possibly run an errand.

Come home, eat something most likely.

Finish the daily work we left unfinished to go out.

Some kind of break. Attempt to squeeze in Form 2 lessons and family poetry/teatime (since we didn’t manage family poetry yesterday after all.) I want this to happen because today Form 2 has poetry, Latin, grammar, Shakespeare, and art, which I’m excited about. Honestly this 60-90 minutes is my favorite part.

I used to cram in poetry and other fine arts into morning time but it works better at teatime/afternoon snack with everything else I’m prioritizing and needs of the kids. This requires I have meals on time. Ugh. Meals. Who needs ‘em. We will continue to pretend the laundry is caught up and the house is clean. I’m definitely leaning on the fact that husband is still working from home right now and can help with meals. (Watching children while working doesn’t work well, but meal prep is manageable.) When he’s in person again I’ll have to get my food prep act together.

Yesterday because we were off schedule during Form 2 lessons the others had already maxed out their capacity for free play time and so ended up doing a bunch of drawing videos, which I’m perfectly happy with. Something similar may happen today.

Now taking bets with myself on if the next few hours resemble this outline at all. And go.

[benzodiazepinica]

Alexandre Bissonnette edit + infopost

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The edit is for you to see some photos of him!

I want to say I don't support any actions !!

My content is because I love true crime and political cases ~~

if I like the person is for him/her personality, appearance or manner. But I do not support hate crimes or murders

Event summary

Alexandre Bissonnette, 27, entered a mosque armed with a pistol and killed 6 men, injuring 19 more, one of the victims was left paraplegic for the rest of his life

Family, social life, curiosities

Bissonnette has a twin brother with whom he shared an apartment four miles from his parents' house. But Alexandre Bissonnette often slept at his parents' house on weekends.

He was Canadian, born and raised in Quebec City. He was always described as a simple and ordinary man. Bissonnette had already taken antidepressants, but it was stated that his mental state had absolutely no influence on the crime, as he was considerably stable and fully conscious.

He had a Facebook page and also a Tumblr page, where he posted about his daily life, food, etc. However, on Facebook, he made a lot of political comments. Emails from Alexandre and his father were also found that spoke negatively about Muslims. Many people believe that Alexandre received this prejudiced upbringing from home. He and his father used to practice shooting at an outdoor range and Alexandre would often hang out with old friends. However, he did not have a girlfriend, and was described as a shy and somewhat introverted man.

The father, and also Alexandre himself on social media, stated about the problems the boy had with alcohol. However, according to a blog by Bissonnette, he had stopped drinking because, according to him, it "is very bad for your health!" and he reported, with these words, that he was "very happy about it!" However, even with this abstinence from alcohol, the shooter told the authorities that he drank sake the entire day of the massacre.

Security camera footage from a depanneur shows Alexandre Bissonnette buying a drink minutes before the Quebec City mosque attack on January 29, 2017

"Throughout his life, until January 29, Alexander had never demonstrated violent behavior in words or actions toward anyone. "Alexander is the last person we, and all those who know him, could imagine doing something so out of character," Alexander's father said.

Bissonnette was a political science student at Université Laval in Quebec City. He also works and had a steady job, but was on three weeks' leave when the shooting happened. Alexandre had a history of bullying, probably because he was quiet and reserved, but this did not seem to have a direct impact on the case. In any case, he was described as an "ordinary" man.

about the bullying he suffered his father said: "Realizing that nothing was getting better, Alexandre simply stopped mentioning it to us. I can't tell you how much I regret not doing more to make sure Alexandre was safe at school."

In 2014, Bissonnette was introduced to firearms by a friend. He went on to apply for a license, falsely reporting that he had no history of mental health issues or suicidal thoughts. Over the next few years, he would legally acquire six guns.

Bissonnette told psychologists during interviews that he had always had thoughts about mass shootings. Interestingly, Alexandre was fascinated by the Columbine Massacre.

Alexandre had also thought about carrying out a massacre in a shopping mall, carrying weapons in his bag and everything, but he gave up.

ideologies and thoughts about Islamists

Alexandre was an actively political person in his speeches and discourses. He seemed to be very interested in the subject, and it was no wonder that he was studying Political Science. However, Bissonnette's political positions always leaned towards a more extreme side, related to violence. He was a nationalist, but a nationalist who preached the unity of white people only. He also supported Marine Le Pen's party in France and Donald Trump in the United States. He frequently posted on his Facebook page against immigrants, against pro-immigrant policies, against Muslims and against feminists.

Historical context of the city and the mosque

Before talking about the massacre, it is essential to talk a little about the state of mind of the city and the mosque that suffered the attack.

Quebec City has always had questionable positions on ethnicity, immigration and Islam. The mosque has previously suffered an Islamophobic attack, in which a pig's head was placed on the mosque and a note reading "Bon appétit" in French (the local language).

The Quebec City mosque mass shooting on January 29, 2017

In the month leading up to the shooting, Bissonnette was on leave from his job at Héma-Québec with an anxiety disorder following an altercation with a co-worker. During this month, he obsessively visited the Twitter accounts of several right-wing media personalities, including Tucker Carlson, Laura Ingraham, David Duke, Alex Jones, Mike Cernovich, Richard B. Spencer, and Kellyanne Conway. Bissonnette checked Ben Shapiro's Twitter account 93 times in the month leading up to the shooting. He was also on leave from his university political science program. He was scheduled to return to work the day after the shooting. During his free time, he regularly visited Islamophobic websites and searched the web for information about mass shooters.

When Alexandre Bissonnette heard about Justin Trudeau’s famous tweet welcoming refugees to Canada, the frail-looking 28-year-old political science student told police he went crazy. A few hours after watching a television report suggesting that Canada would accept immigrants rejected by President Trump

On the day of the shooting, Alexandre spent the day drinking and finishing his research on mass murders, immigration and Islamic terrorism, including checking news reports on crimes committed by Muslims in the country. That night, he went to his parents’ house for dinner and then sat in a corner, fiddling with his computer. At 7 p.m., he left the house armed with a 9 mm pistol and a Czech semi-automatic rifle of .223 caliber. He left home in his parents' car, saying he was going to practice shooting. At 7:37 p.m., he hesitated to continue shooting, so he went into a store and drank some vodka. Then, afraid of being seen carrying a large weapon, he decided to return to the mosque to carry out the attack.

He arrived at the mosque around 7:53 or 7:54 p.m. Outside, there were two brothers, at whom he pointed the rifle, which failed, jamming. Alexander appeared relaxed, smiling, throwing the rifle on the ground and pulling out his pistol. He fired several shots at both of them, in the arms and abdomen, then got close and shot the brothers in the head, with the pistol pressed against them.

Two more mosque worshippers announced that there was a shooter, and chaos soon broke out. Alexandre entered the room, firing ten shots, then reloaded. Bissonnette re-entered the prayer hall. He would fire 30 shots in 30 seconds during the second wave, and would target mainly people trying to take cover.

Aymen Derbali, crouched near the gunman, attempted to distract him from the busier areas of the mosque by staggering toward him, but was shot in the knee and chin.[31] As Derbali fell and crawled on the ground, Bissonette shot him 6 more times, but Derbali would survive.[32] Bissonnette then targeted 44-year-old Aboubaker Thabti, murdering him at close range with three shots to the skull.

The gunman returned a second time to the lobby to reload his weapon, then returned to the prayer hall and killed some of the worshippers who were already wounded and others who were wounded. He then pocketed a bullet, intending to take his own life in a nearby forest, and then left the mosque at 7:57 p.m.

According to an initial report, a man who came forward as a witness said that two assailants dressed in black and with a Quebecois accent entered the mosque and shouted "Allahu Akbar" before opening fire. Police later determined that there was only one shooter, and that was Alexandre.

Later, at 8:10 p.m., Alexandre Bissonnette called emergency services (911) and turned himself in.

Alexandre Bissonnette was sentenced to life in prison for the 2017 Quebec mosque attack. He was originally scheduled to serve 40 years before being eligible for parole. However, in 2020, the Quebec Court of Appeal reduced that sentence to 25 years, ruling that 40 years without the possibility of parole constituted cruel and unusual punishment. In 2022, the Supreme Court of Canada upheld that decision, maintaining his eligibility for parole after 25 years. Therefore, Bissonnette will be eligible for parole in 2042.

Victims

The six murder victims were Ibrahima Barry (39, an IT employee for the Quebec government), Mamadou Tanou Barry (42, an accounting technician), Khaled Belkacemi (60, a professor at Laval University), Aboubaker Thabti (44, a pharmacy technician), Abdelkrim Hassane (41, a computer analyst for the Quebec government) and Azzedine Soufiane (57, a grocery store owner).

[stubz]

late shift

Shuttle for Mars is departing now. Please keep hands, feet, tails, and other appendages clear of the yellow line.

‘Nice, finally get off work on time for once! Man is it empty, way less busy than the 5:45 one…

Are they sleeping? Please tell me they’re sleeping…’

“Snnrk…”

‘Oh good they are, oooh lots of empty seats next to them! Nice.’

The young human sits across the large figure and looks around.

‘Wonder why everyone else is sitting so far away from this guy? He’s not that much scarier than a Alteauh…OH! He’s an Orc! An actual Orc, oh this is so cool! Wait. Calm down, control yourself. Orc’s are people too, not some exotic animal in a zoo….he’s sooo cool looking tho!’

The human smiles and takes out their headphones and listens to some music and take in the view they see through the shuttle’s windows. From time to time they peek at the orc, can’t helping themselves from people-watching him.

Like what most humans imagined, he was huge. Easily more than 7 feet tall, with large calloused hands bigger than their head. He had large tusks but unlike the stereotypes he was well trimmed with well relatively kept hair. It would have neater had there not been dust in it. The orc wore dirty cloths and work boots. Beside them what looked like a tool box and bag.

‘Must be a construction worker or works in a trade’ they mused

‘Poor guy, he’s gotta be exhausted to sleep here. At least he gets to go home now.’

The shuttle shakes and with it so does the sleeping giant. Rocking side to side.

'That's not good.' They nervously slide off their headphones.

The turbulence increases until the sleeping orc leans too far and starts fall face first off his seat.

“OH SHIT!” Diving to their knees they manage to catch his head and shoulders.

“Mm?”

“You okay?” Damn he's heavy!

“Mmm…sorry.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he slowly got back into his seat, the turbulence now gone.

“No worries, I just didn’t want you to hit your head.”

“Heh, wouldn't be the first time I’ve done it.”

after rubbing his eyes a bit more and a crack of the neck he looks at them, brain finally working to some degree.

“…wait. You caught me?”

“Uh-huh”

“But you’re so small! Are you hurt?”

“You're not the first sleeping giant I’ve caught. I’m alright.”

“I am so sorry for that. I just finished working a 12 hour shift fixing the 1st and 3rd engine rooms and couldn’t help myself from dozing off.”

They whistle. “12 hours? No wonder you’re tired! If I were you I’d be in a coma.”

“Ah but surely you have a difficult job yourself. How else would you be able to catch me?”

“No, nothing like yours! I just work at a youngling centre.”

“The one on the ship?”

“That’s the one.”

“...YOUR ONE OF THE BRAVE WARRIORS WHO RISKED THEIR LIVES TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN??!”

“…you’ve heard of us?”

“Every orc and warrior worth their blade knows of your valiant deeds!! Tell me, what is your name??”

“Kim, uh and you are?”

“Fenrir. It is truly an honor to meet someone of your bravery and intelligence."

"Likewise! I've heard that the orc species are a true warrior race."

For the rest of the trip the two talked. Kim sharing how her and Max built such a safe room in the centre, which lead to the two realizing how similar each other's planets are.

"You have wind whirlpools as well? I thought they only existed on Bantor!"

"Well we call them hurricanes and tornadoes but yeah. Do you guys have hail?"

"Not where I grew up but nearby farther up they get a week or two of light hail showers during the fall. What about animals? Do you have reptiles bigger than an adult with large teeth and live in rivers? We call them darthrang."

"Oh we call them crocodiles!"

"Amazing! To think that your species live in a world much like mine!"

When the shuttle finally reached it's destination the two went their separate ways. A few days later they meet again, this time on the later shuttle. They sit and talk and create a routine of sorts where they became each others travelling companion for the trip to Mars.

One day however, Fenrir stopped coming. The human was saddened as she enjoyed his company but was soon surprised when seeing him at the centre.

"Kim! I've been transferred to stay on the ship so I won't be taking the shuttle to Mars anymore."

"Oh...well, as you know I only go home at the end of the week so maybe we can hang out now. Like eat lunch together or have a drink after work...or something like that!"

"Actually we'll be seeing each other everyday now. But if you don't get sick of me then yes, lets each lunch together."

"Great! But why will I be seeing you everyday?"

"Because after telling my family about you and the centre they've enrolled my nieces and nephews and younger siblings here...and I offered to drop them off and pick them up."

It was then that Kim noticed the dozen of orc children hiding behind Fenrir. The tallest and what looked the eldest of them stepped forward.

"Hello, I am Athea, uncle Fenrir said your one of the ones who saved the centre."

"Yes, my name is Kim. It's great to meet you AtheaaAA!" The orc girl pulled the human into a tight hug, lifting the adult woman off of her feet.

"Thank you for saving Nova." she mumbled into her chest.

'Ah, the Captain's daughter' Kim thought. "I was just doing what any teacher would do."

After a moment the human was put down and lead the children into the centre. The day went well. Fenrir's young family members were quickly won over by the humans, first with the saving of the centre, then with how they understood how wonderful their planet was rather than terrifying or deadly.

They were also greatly intrigued by how such a small species could survive in a planet that was thought to only be habitable to orcs.

"How can you carry us?" asked Thor, one of Fenrir's youngest brothers. "We're much bigger than a human child."

"Yeah but your not bigger than my cousins who are teenagers. Also just last month I had like 10 kids climbing on me. Two were tighalaxes."

"Your joking!"

...

"It that tumpon?!"

"Hm? We call it maafe, but it's also known as peanut stew, do you want some? It doesn't have any meat in it though."

"Guys Max has tumpon!! Can you tell Fenrir where we can buy the ingredients?"

"Of course. Finally I'll finish what gran gave me without having to gain 10 pounds."

And thus the first day ended on a high note! Now if only Kim could figure out why the children looked at her and nodded while talking to Fenrir...

So this based off of a post by @llamagoddessofficial about humans meeting actual space orcs. Sadly I can't find the actual post. but yeah, here u go, space orc and human meet cute

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

HAVING THE MOST "FUCK IT WE'LL DO IT LIVE" LATE YULE OF MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

[ismyteadoneyet]

bro getting myself an audhd assessment for the sole reason of making the rest of my family realize that THE HAVE IT THEMSELVES is getting more and more tempting by the fkn day I SWEAR TO GOD

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

gratitude list time I'll go first

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.