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anomaly-hivemind · 2 months ago

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Keep Quiet!☆ Sae Itoshi x GN! Reader| Kinktober Day 10

Summary: After a victorious match, everyone decides the best way to celebrate is with a good old-fashioned party. You're not one for parties so you spend most of the night with one of the other somewhat anti-social.

Word Count: 1,222

Tags: Public spaces, Accidental Stimulation, Dry Humping, cumming in pants, Gender Neutral Reader

Happy Birthday Sae Itoshi!!!!!

The music was blasting throughout the house and you had found the perfect spot where the music didn’t seem to be echoing at its loudest volume. You take a seat on the two-seater couch and hold your water bottle close to your person not wanting to mistake it for someone else's. Then you silently watch Itoshi Sae take a seat beside you and then you both just sit without a word and just people watch the other people who were more actively celebrating.

But you wanted to break the silence so you turned to speak to him. But your voice doesn't convey well over all the other party noise.

“What?” He yelled he leaned closer so you try again. You also moved closer and your legs were pressed against each other.

“How's the win feeling?” You repeated.

“Oh, pretty good I guess,” He replied leaning closer. You nodded, not really knowing what else to say. You had only started working as an assistant athletic trainer for the team recently so you weren’t too close with anyone on the team, Sae especially since he kinda kept to himself.

The both of you sat not talking until you began talking again. “Hey Sae, It looked like you pulled your hamstrings earlier, are you feeling okay?” You asked.

He pressed down on his upper thigh feeling around a bit. “Only when I’m applying pressure, but it really doesn’t hurt that much anyways,”

“May I?” he nodded and you began feeling around for where the pain might be centralized.

“Here?.... What about hear?” you asked, shifting your hand and pressing gently in other places. Sae shook his head until he simply took your hand to guide your hand. At the same time a rowdy group of you fellow party-goers came up laughing and swaying to the music clearly inebriated. One person tripped over the side of the couch, tripping and crashed into you. You and Sae were pressed up together as the person let out a left baked apology before shifting to take a proper seat on the other space on the couch.

When you realized where your hand was it was too late, you had already been pressing your palm against it for a few seconds.

Sae was looking at you with wide eyes and his face was quickly growing red. You quickly took your hand off his crotch.

“I-i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to touch you like that,” You explained, shaking your hands.

“No it’s okay.”

“I’m going to- um… I’ll be right back.” You said getting up and playing hopscotch over peoples feet. After wandering around for a moment you finally found the bathroom. You splashed your face with a bit of water before taking a deep breath. Get it together! It was just an accident, you didn’t really mean to touch his dick. You tried to push away your embarrassment.

Once you had come back to the couch you noticed it full of other bodies, where you were once sitting. You walk over to Sae to ask him if he wanted to talk somewhere else, so you could sit back down together. When you lean over to talk to him, someone bumps aggressively causing you to stumble over into Sae. he quickly made the effort to catch you, his arms holding you in place as you were basically in his lap.

“Sorry again about that. I really didn't mean to.” you try to keep eye contact.

“It's fine, I know it was an accident,” he said plainly, then you both just looked at each other in silence. You get ready to get up from his lap when he stops you.

“You can stay here until the couch clears up again.” He lets go of you, to get up anyway if you want… but you don't.

“You sure?” You ask, concerned about his little… issue. Just in case he was just trying to be nice to get rid of any remaining awkwardness. He just gives you a nod.

You tried to shift to a more comfortable position. But you stopped moving when you heard Sae groan. You look back at him with a look of worry, his head was down into your shoulder.

“Oh I'm sorry, is your leg hurting?” you shift off his leg and imvertanly Into his center and that only got another groan out of him.

“No just, stay still is all,” he gripped your hips and held you in place. You shivered but you got the memo that he was trying to keep you from squirming too much.

But his hands on your waist made you artsy, his fingers were so warm and he was holding you in such a firm yet gentle way. You shifted back once more and he tightened his grip. He hissed out a curse as he felt you move right on top of his cock, he was getting hard beneath you and his face turned red as his hair.

“Um Sae.. do you want me to move?” You asked, feeling hardened under you.

“No.. just stay here,” He said with shaky breaths, holding. his arms around your waist and burying his face into your back. He is tightening his grip around you.

You let out a shaky breath, you could feel Sae's erection pushing against lower parts. You lean against him letting yourself lay back on him.

Sae began shifting his hips under you. Since he was so close to you, you could hear his hushed groans; however the music was far too loud and many people were far too drunk to hear anything. It would be when he started to move his hips up into you that he fully knew what he was doing. You part your hips into him, matching his own movements. You have to bite your lips in order to not let out a moan, and Sae let out hushed groans into your ear. It was turning you on so much that you had to keep yourself from turning back and kissing him.

He dug his hips into you and you felt yourself melting into his throbbing cock by each clothed stroke against your core. You wanted to know what he would feel like striking into you for real that the idea causes you to let out an audible moan. Sae was quick to cover your mouth.

“Fuck…you’re ass feels so good,” He whispered to you, his breath hitched as it had become ragged.

You keep your hips as still as he grinds his hips into you again and again. His breath came out as pants as he quicked his subtle pace. He still had his head on your shoulder but as he got closer to ruining his pants he kissed your neck. He had a vice grip on your waist, as if he was afraid you were going to get up and leave him wanting. Although the sadistic amusement that ran through you like a chill at that idea being a fun one you don't want to do that.

He comes undone with a string of whimpers and you feel like you've also come out of this ordeal breathless.

“Damn. wanna get out of here?”

“Yes…”

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loganwritesprobably · 6 months ago

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Hello☺️,

I have a combo for you.

Charakter: Benn Beckmann x (shy)Fem Reader

Setting: Hurt/comfort

Prompt: p: "Can you stay here with me tonight?" and/or d: "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Maybe something like sleepless nights with nightmares?

But I'll leave that to you

Thank you

It's a classic, but there's nothing wrong with classics! A nice easy trope with a loveable man. Hope you enjoy love!

Content/Warnings: Benn/F!Reader, Shy!Reader, hurt/comfort, nightmares, fluff, pining, pre-slash, past parental death, heavily implied the deceased parent had dementia/alzheimers

You were an interesting character on the crew. The only woman, and a strikingly different personality. Everyone on the ship was self-assured, loud mouthed, a party-goer – except you. You were more shy, liked to keep to yourself, would sooner remain on the edges of a party to observe or even stay home. But, the thing that'd gotten you a place on the crew was that just like them you were an incredible fighter. You were a swordswoman, and a well trained one, and in battle all of your reserved personality disappeared to be replaced with that of a confident fighter, knowing that she'd make all the correct moves at the right moment and flawlessly survive.

After a fight was over, you'd return to your usual self, and it was a difference that the crew used to marvel at but was now just normal. You'd leave and wash up, rejoining them as the shy girl they knew and loved. And if you wished a particular crew member loved you in a slightly different way then that was your business. Well, and the business of your best friend on board Limejuice, but that was neither here nor there.

You were a good fighter because your upbringing had been, well, interesting to use a kind word. Your father had been an unusual character, who'd insisted on keeping you trained. At first, it had been to protect yourself but as he grew older the reason became to protect him. He'd become violent as he aged and forgot you, and it hurt you that you couldn't protect him like he'd wanted - there was no way to protect him from himself. He died after a few years of slowly losing his memories and his sense of self, and you'd left for the sea after that.

Sometimes you thought of your father, even after all these years, and it saddened you to know that there was nothing you could've done for him. You'd raise a glass to him while the crew cheered and laughed, and you'd drink in his name. But sometimes, you remembered him in your dreams.

For the most part the dreams were positive, of times past, when you were a young girl getting dirty while climbing trees or digging in the dirt for treasure and he would come and scoop you up in his arms to take you to dinner. He'd cherished you, like your mother would've wanted. Every now and then however, you'd dream of the later parts of his life, when he began to forget and it hurt like hell.

On this particular night, you'd accidentally fallen asleep at the edge of the deck while the crew played cards late into the night, with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and your head in your arms on a table. It wasn't the most comfortable but you'd had a long few days.

Your dreams were not kind. You dreamt of your father, and at first it had been nice. You were a little girl again, playing hopscotch outside the house with the boy from down the street. Then your father emerged from the house confused and suddenly you aged fifteen years, the way you did in dreams, and you were an adult managing your father's sickness alone. He was angry, accusing you of trying to kill him with the meal you'd made, and he leapt at you, desperately trying to claw at your skin to kill you before you killed him.

You woke with a start to a hand on your shoulder and concerned eyes looking down at you. You gulped down air desperately, trying to steady yourself and slow your rapidly beating heart. Benn was there though, watching over you while you calmed, waiting for you to be ready to speak. "You okay?" He asked softly a few minutes later, when you were breathing normally and the pulse he could feel under his fingertips had slowed. "Bad dream. I'm alright." You assured him with a quick nod. He took a step back and offered you his arm with a charming smile. "Let me escort you to your room?" He offered, and you could only laugh softly and agree.

Benn led you to your room, both of you content with the silence. You didn't need to speak. He followed you into your room and made sure that you got into bed okay, his own anxiety pooling in his stomach. He worried about you, sometimes. "I'll still be here when you wake up, just across the hall. You can come find me if you need me." He offered, hand on the doorknob, already in the doorframe ready to leave. You hesitated for a moment, panic flooding through you again - you weren't sure you could be alone. "Wait-" You said quickly, sitting bolt upright just before the door could close. Benn reopened the door all the way, concern having returned to his expression.

"Sorry I just- I don't think I can be alone right now. Could you.. stay here tonight, maybe?" You asked nervously, voice so soft it could barely be heard. But Benn heard your request as if you'd yelled it, because he heard everything that you said, never needing you to repeat yourself. He nodded and re-entered the room, closing the door behind himself. "Move over then." Benn said with an easy smile, and when you did, he slipped into the bed behind you, easily pulling the blanket over himself. He didn't hold you because ultimately you were just friends still. But, when you fell asleep and shifted to lay on his chest, Benn kept himself awake for just a little while to enjoy the taste of what it would be like if you were his.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

#one piece #fanfic #writing #reader insert #loganwritesficlets #loganwritesrequests #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #one piece x reader #female reader #projected a tiny bit there whoopsies

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house-of-lovin · 2 years ago

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safety net

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

masterlist | over (1) | love language (2)

Summary: Tara Carpenter loved playing games with you. (inspired by safety net by ariana grande ft. ty dolla sign)

Warnings/Tags: toxic!tara, clueless!tara, mature language, implied sexual themes, mentions of violence and trauma.

Note: as promised THE LAST PART (woohoo😮‍💨) this was seriously a lot of fun and became a bit of a writing exercise using songs as prompts and trying to piece them together into a storyline. Thanks for all the comments, reblogs and feedback. They are so appreciated! Let me know what you guys think! <3

Word Count: 3.4k+

“You’re staring, again.”

Tara snaps her gaze back to the book on the table, ignoring her friends’ smug smiles. “Why don’t you just go up to her and apologize?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me, trust me, I’ve tried.” Tara rolls her eyes.

It’s been two weeks since that night at the party and you have been ignoring Tara. You spent the rest of spring break working at your uncle’s shop, avoiding the friend group, sans Mindy because you couldn’t exactly avoid someone you lived with. Tara attempted to give you space the following days and then reached out to you in hopes that you could talk and sort out the situation. Tara doesn’t want to lose you as a friend.

“I’m not gonna apologize for something that wasn’t my fault, Mindy. Just because she caught feelings doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. But now she’s ignoring me?” Tara scoffs, “Well, some friend she is.”

“God Chad’s right. You two are clueless.” Mindy’s nose wrinkled.

“She knows where to find me when she’s done being stubborn.” Crossing her arms, she glances back at you. You were sitting across the quad, on a bench surrounded by your other friends; laughing and talking, unfazed by Tara’s brazen staring.

How were you not seeing her shameless looks?

She swallowed the pitiful lump in her throat as she continues to observe your carefree nature.

“Weren’t you begging me to tell her to call you back like a week ago?” Mindy objected causing Anika and Quinn to snicker as they listen in, not bothering to pretend like they weren’t eavesdropping.

“Begging is a stretch,” She mutters weakly, picking at the corner of her book.

“Tara, why can’t you just admit that you want to be with her?” Quinn ponders, genuinely confused as to why you two are playing hopscotch around one another. Everyone could see how madly in love you two are.

It genuinely puzzled the friend group as to why it’s taking this long to get you guys to stop playing games.

They just wanted to see their friends together and happy, definitely not because of the growing bet pool. And not because it was getting increasingly expensive to wager in the bet the longer it ran because you two refused to acknowledge the clear feelings you have for each other. (It was starting to burn a sizeable hole in their wallets)

The brunette shakes her head defiantly, “We’re just hooking up.”

“You’re not acting like you guys are just hooking up.” Anika counters, “actually, you guys act more like a couple than me and Mindy sometimes.”

“No. We don’t,” She frowns.

“Yes you do and it’s gross,” The aforementioned girl interjects. “No one should be cuter than me and my girl.” She wraps an arm around Anika, leaning in to lovingly peck the girl’s cheek.

“Y/N’s always bringing you coffee when you study with us at the library, even though her class is on the other side of campus.” Anika comments.

“She always loses on purpose when we play card games just so you can win,” Quinn adds.

“She laughs at all your lame jokes and obscure movie references – there’s no way you enjoy Suspiria as much as you say you do,” Mindy stated.

“Hey!”

“Dude, she has a Spotify playlist titled with your name and heart beside it.” Mindy throws her hands up, feeling a bit fed up.

“Doesn’t mean anything, we share music all the time!”

“Tara, Y/N literally takes care of your plants when you complain about forgetting,” Quinn objects.

Tara’s still feeling persistent. “That’s not true.”

Her dying plants have been on the mend these last few weeks and it’s definitely because she’s been paying more attention to them; placing the potted plants in a better area for sunlight and watering them more.

Quinn shoots her roommate a pointed look, “You were over-watering them, Tara. Y/N had to come over and change the soil. Did you even notice?”

No, Tara didn’t even notice. She was shocked at how much went over her head as her friends continue to list all the little things you do that, apparently, she’s been too blind to see. She glances back at you as you’re talking to a girl; smiling, unbothered. She recognizes her from her creative writing class – Tara didn’t know you two were close. Close enough for the girl to wrap a hand around your arm and lean into your ear something that the Carpenter can’t make out from the vast distance.

Tara’s eyes slither into tight fissures as she watches the random girl continue to make herself comfortable on you. Eventually, whatever she felt she had to whisper so close was over, but not before the girl planted a kiss on your cheek unsuspectingly. The Carpenter watches as you slightly jump from the contact, then eventually grant her a shy smile – the same smile you reserved for her.

Tara feels an unpleasant drop in her chest because, for the first time since moving to New York, she allowed herself to finally feel everything she’s been burying.

It was suffocating, making her want to claw at her throat to get rid of the nasty sensation. Regardless of how much she swallowed in an attempt to get rid of the feeling, it only grew larger as it ached; begging to be acknowledged. Hastily, Tara stands up, gathering her things.

“Where are you going?” Her friends' questions were left unacknowledged as she footed it, not really sure where she was going; all Tara knows is that she had to get away before her friends see her break down.

In her haste, Tara misses your concerned eyes tracking her disappearing figure.

●●●

Tara is choosing to ignore the world and her problems.

After that conversation with her friends, she ran home, plopped into her bed and hid under the covers for the remainder of the afternoon. She put on her favourite horror movies, hoping it would distract her from her thoughts of you. But her efforts proved to be fruitless. You tormented her thoughts regardless of how desperately she tried to drown them out.

So, she sat there until bright blue skies turned navy and drove herself mad thinking about you.

Trust came sparsely for someone who was violently attacked by a deranged murderer. As much as Tara tried to push through the past and live as if nothing happened, it plagued her in her daily life. It revealed itself when a phone rang too loudly, near kitchen knives, or in dark areas – there were just certain experiences that were tainted by the memory of Ghostface.

But then you showed up. She remembers opening the door to her apartment and there you were, standing behind Mindy with a $15 bottle of champagne and a poorly-wrapped throw blanket for the old couch to celebrate the Carpenter’s housewarming party (an attempt at some normalcy) with a shy smile and Tara was hooked.

No matter how much she tried to distance herself, echoing sentiments that it’s a bad idea to get involved with someone so soon.

You lured her in, anyway.

It was in your tenderness that you had Tara wrapped around your finger.

Normally, the Carpenter would be annoyed with someone treating her like she was made of glass, but when it came to you; she knew it wasn’t out of pity. Your gentleness was welcomed with open arms because for once in her life, Tara finally felt like she didn’t have to be so brave all the time, at least, not when she was around you.

She didn’t have to pretend her life was as put-together as she made it out to be.

Because for once, someone had finally made her feel like she is worthy enough to stay for, to care for, and maybe to love. And that was terrifying because all anyone in her life had ever done is let her down and leave – Sam, her mom, her dad, Amber. So she kept you on a tight leash; taking control and leading. Never letting you close enough to see how she really feels about you. But there are cracks in the unsturdy walls she tries to put up, she’s not perfect. How can she resist you when you still willingly chased after her regardless of what she’s put you through – and how even through her harshness, you never lose your gentleness with her.

You create real balance and peace within her (not the fake one, she’s desperately fronting) and to someone who’s only known chaos and instability – that’s terrifying. So sue her, for being a little scared.

So, yes.

Right now, Tara is ignoring everything around her because that realization is too big a burden to deal with.

She has her legs pulled up to her chest, the fuzzy blanket you gifted months ago, wrapped around her shoulders as she watches the TV from the couch; not really paying attention to the film. Her eyes begin to burn the longer she stares at the blue-lit screen causing a painful sting to her pupils.

A terse knock on the front door startles her making her blink at the sound.

Everyone was out for the night; Sam at therapy, Quinn at a hookup’s house and her other friends, all off doing their own thing. She wasn’t sure who could be at the door at this time. Cautiously, she stands to silently walk to the door – the pads of her naked feet connecting to the wooden floor litter goosebumps on her skin. Standing on the tips of her toes, Tara looks through the peephole.

She sees you shifting on your feet, glancing over your shoulder – looking unsure if you should even be there.

Tara feels a pit forming in her stomach, but moves swiftly to unlock the door, opening it.

“Hey.” She says softly, palm wrapped tight on the doorknob in an attempt to ground herself.

“Hi.” You rub a hand on the back of your neck.

“What–what are you doing here?” Tara sees you flinch, mistaking her tone for malice but you’re answering before she can correct herself.

“Mindy said you needed my help.” You drawl as if confused.

Tara shares your confusion, brows drawing together. “I… don’t need help?”

You shake your head, clenching your jaw tight, “God dammit… I think she set us up.”

“Oh.”

Rolling your eyes, “Yeah, oh. Look, that’s my bad, I’ll deal with her. You can go back to… doing whatever you were doing.”

Tara sees you eye her attire glumly; an oversized shirt that covered her bare legs; assuming the worst. Her eyes immediately widened like saucers, grabbing your arm before you could leave.

“No! That–that’s not–I’m home. Alone.” She clarifies. The word ‘alone’ taking a special raised and rushed tone.

You scoff, pulling away from her, “good for you.”

“Can we talk?” Tara calls out, she can’t let you leave yet – despite her previous decision to ignore you and ignore her feelings. The longer you stood across from her, the more she realized just how much she’s missed you these last few weeks.

“No.” You continue to walk down the hall.

Tara grows desperate, running after you and grabbing your arm again to stop you from leaving. The concrete floors were rough on the soles of her feet. “Y/N, please.”

You turn, ready to yank your arm away from her grip but her watery eyes halt you; sympathy bubbling lowly in your chest and you curse inwardly at how easy it was for her to lure you back in.

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? Some people are trying to get some sleep!” A voice interrupted, it was her neighbour, peeking his head a couple of doors down to yell at you two. He pops his whole body out when he sees Tara’s revealing figure, shooting her a lewd smile through his cigarette-tainted teeth, “Oh hey, there.”

Tara feels you turn in her hold as your face drops – jaw clenching as you glare at her sleazy neighbour (who was at least in his late 40s judging by his greying hair) “Go back inside unless you wanna get fucked up and stop looking at her.”

He stares back for a few seconds, debating if the challenge was worth his time. You move her behind you with a tug of an arm; blocking his view of her. Tara knows it's the wrong time but she couldn’t help but move closer; inhaling your familiar perfume. “Man, you’re not even worth my time.”

You wait until he shuts the door before facing her again, muttering under your breath. “Creepy motherfucker.”

“Go back inside before anyone else comes out here begging for a show.” You tell her, lightly pushing her back to her door. But her hold on your arm tightens, “Not until you come inside and talk to me.”

You sigh, looking around the hallway in an attempt to buy yourself some time before you eventually gave in – tugging her inside the apartment.

Only once you were both inside did you pull away from her grip; Tara’s arm falling limply by her side. You look at her expectantly, “Well?”

Tara remains unmoving and silent, She curls into herself, leaning against the back of the couch just staring at you

You grow annoyed at her silence, running a hand on your face, “Tara you begged me to talk…”

Still nothing from the Carpenter; she isn’t sure why she can’t say anything now that you’re standing in front of her. Maybe it was because she wasn’t ready to confront you and her feelings but as you stood there, about to leave, she knew she couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t sure when she would see you again, this was the closest you’d been around her in the last few weeks.

At this point, she was acting on pure impulse and heightened emotions.

“Unbelievable…” You mutter, grabbing the doorknob. She can feel practically feel the sharp snap in your patience as you try to leave, again.

“I don’t get you.”

That stops you in your tracks, making you turn looking confused.

“What?”

Tara begins to shake her head.

“I mean, I don’t get you… Like, why are you still here? Jesus, Y/N, you’ve been ignoring me but you still came here cause you thought I needed help. Even after all the petty shit I’ve been doing with those guys to fuck with you and after the party” She grabs at her hair; roughly tugging on it. “And even after all that, you still chase after me. Why!”

“Because I love you.”

Tara inhales a sharp breath at your admission and how carelessly easily you said those words. Your brows furrowed like you looked genuinely confused by her question, it has Tara scoffing in disbelief. Unsure how you can still give her genuineness even after everything she’s done, she doesn’t deserve it.

“No, you don’t, you can’t. We’re just hooking up, it was just sex.” She denies, but a fog of tears is beginning to cloud her eyes. Even through the haze, she can see you approaching closer, holding a cautious hand out.

“Maybe I am just a hook-up to you… but I didn’t just catch feelings for you. I’m not just falling in love with you, I already fell Tara. More like, I dove head-first without a life jacket,” You take the moment to chuckle dryly.

“And yeah, that wasn’t part of the plan but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself I didn’t tell you that there’s someone that wants to wake up and fall asleep beside you every day. Someone that wants to show you that maybe this time you don’t have to be so afraid to let someone in.” You shake your head, looking down for a brief moment of insecurity but you regain the passion in your eyes as you connect gazes.

“So, look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m just a hookup, and if you do. I’ll leave you alone – for good.” She desperately blinked away the tears as she attempts to meet your eyes to tell you that you are just a hookup, it is just sex, she doesn’t love you too. But when she meets your eyes, she sees tenderness again and suddenly her knees are buckling under her.

Her body doesn’t meet the ground like she expects it to. Instead, you grabbed her, wrapping a firm arm around her waist as you held her weight up. She can hear distant mutterings of comfort being whispered in her ear but nothing registers as she realizes that she’s starting to sob uncontrollably.

“Baby…need you to breathe… ‘gonna make yourself sick.”

She couldn't hear anything around her until her face is being pressed into soft fabric; clawing at it, in a desperate attempt to self-soothe. She’s having a panic attack.

“Tara… Please, baby, you have to breathe–” You beg but Tara can’t hear you properly.

Nothing works until she feels you wrap her in a firm hug, still leaving her enough space so as to not feel suffocated. One arm around her waist, the other hand wrapped around her neck, as you rub soothing lines on her clammy skin.

A few moments of silence pass until Tara feel the pressure in her chest ease as the ringing in her ears subsides. She gasps for air against your chest, coughing as a burning ache in her throat develops. The rubbing of lines on her neck turns into firm pats on the back as Tara continues to cough through her tears.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You shush her. Eventually, her coughs turn into occasional sniffles and deep breaths as you run fingers back up her hair comfortingly; giving her all patience she required.

“I’m sorry,” Tara says once she pulls her head off your chest, keeping a tight grip on your clothes.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Your eyes softened as you ran the pads of your thumbs to wipe away at her tear-stained cheeks.

She shakes her head in your grip, “Yes, I do. Even now, you’re still treating me so well. I don’t deserve it.” Her voice turns into a broken whisper as she finally allows herself to be vulnerable.

“Oh Tara,” You said so tenderly, “You deserve the world, baby. You’re amazing.”

“No, I’m not,” She shakes her head, beginning to pull away from you, not wanting to hear your words and how genuinely you believed it.

You tightened your grip around her waist, preventing her from moving. “Yes, you are, if only you can see yourself the way I see you. Oh, Tara, you don’t even realize it. You amaze me, you make me want to be a better person, that’s what you do to me, that’s what you make me feel. Not the other stuff you’re saying.”

Shaking your head, passion raging in your eyes; eye contact with the smaller girl unwavering, “The way you care for everyone around you, and how you carry yourself despite everything you’ve gone through… Baby, it’s amazing to watch you be yourself. I know, I know… After Amber, it’s hard–” That makes Tara’s eyes widen, unaware you knew about her and her late friend.

“–to trust people but, if you just gave me a chance and spared me an ounce of trust to let yourself fall… I promise I’ll be under there waiting with a safety net.”

Tara examines your eyes, there was no ounce of dishonesty in them. But that’s to be expected, you’ve always been genuine with her, always up-front, and calling her out on her shit – with love. It was one of the things that made her fall for you. Where everyone around her treats her like she’s a porcelain doll, letting her get away with whatever she wanted – you stopped her, but always in a way that was more so loving and protective rather than overbearing and smothering.

The thudding in her chest begs for reprieve as her heart craves to be moulded with yours. Her heart wants to know what it was like to beat in tandem with you, to finally allow herself to be caught instead of trying (and failing) to hold herself up all the time.

As Tara’s body caves in on herself, she pulls you down by the neck, unable to hide the content sigh that leaves her lips when your mouths meet in the middle. The kiss was sweet, passionate and firm; it poured out all love that words could never capture; where the tool of language proved to be invaluable in expressing her feelings.

“I trust you…” Tara whispers when she pulls away, unable to school the smile breaking across her lips. You giggle, making her smile wider. For once the heaviness in Tara's chest feels bearable with you in her arms.

No other words were exchanged as you two attempted to meet again for a kiss only to bump noses and miss because you two were beaming so wide.

●●●

happy reading!

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #jenna ortega

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emptyjunior · 10 months ago

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mazey and fig's deep dive into the core of Bard Magic literally literally was so good, I'm foaming at the mouth thinking of it?

Like do you level up your bard powers by levelling up your craft? By becoming an accomplished technical musician or a professional level dancer?

Or is it about the feeling? And your magic gets stronger as you practice simply because there's effort and time being put into this act of creation. It's about your pursuit of excellence in your craft, which only coincidentally happens to express itself as fame and technical perfection.

But it doesn't have to for a lot of people!

Like I think in the magical world of dnd, a proficient and powerful bard can look like anything!

Maybe somebody's great uncle on the bayou, who sits in his rocking chair playing banjo all day every day, is nameless to the world, can't read music, would be an absolutely Deadly bard because he has that compatibility with his music. He has a deep and profound connection with it.

Someone who's the life of the party, spends all their time thinking about stand up material just for the benefit of their friends, is a sparkling conversationalist with incredible comedic timing everytime, for them that Is the top of what they want their craft to be. There is troves of magic being created there, and it's coming from their connection to people and willingness to entertain.

A kid playing hopscotch on the street, coming up with more and more elaborate steps and jumps. A hospice carer who sings lullabies for the elderly, using their songs as pain relief. Two best friends who have paddy cake down to a practiced artform where they can Double their attacks if they do it together.

I just loved them talking about the realities of what Bard Magic would look like in the real world, asking if she should be worried about her rockstar career because that's her craft, but then thinking is my loyalty to some label even the music?! Because surely that's not the music, that's not where the magic is.

Just bard magic existing because people have so much raw emotion and power when we create and entertain, when we Sing and Dance for each other that of course in a magical world there is power to be drawn from that.

#dimension 20 #brennan lee mulligan #d20 #dnd #text post #fhjy #fantasy high #dropout #bards

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toomuchracket · 2 months ago

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haunted house (dad!george x reader fluff)

more promptober! just a fun fic about you and the kids making plans for when george gets home. enjoy! <3

the bell for the end of the day rings just as you make it through the school gates, wet autumn leaves on the ground and the wriggly three-year-old in your arms doing nothing but hindering an already-running-late you. panting slightly, you carefully set cara down and try to catch your breath, ruffling her hair as she clings to your leg.

you're not really sure why you rushed, to be honest; connor's the most laid-back five-year-old you've ever heard of, with a habit of swanning out of school a few minutes after most of his classmates have bolted out of the playground, and you know you would have been there waiting for him in plenty of time had you walked from the car instead of running. still, you don't want to chance it, you'd rather wait for your son than have it be the other way around.

and you do wait - seven minutes (and three games of hopscotch with your daughter) after the school day ends, connor finally deigns to leave the building, chatting away to dylan as they wander over to you. at the sight of her brother and for-all-intents-and-purposes cousin, cara speeds over to them to say hello; when the three of them walk closer to you, you can see the smug little grin on her face at getting to hang out with the “big kids”, even though there's barely two years between her and them.

you grin back at them, amused at the (classic daniel/healy) height difference between the two five-year-olds. “hi, munchkins. y'alright? took you a while to leave school today.”

“dyl couldn't find her water bottle, mum,” connor throws himself into a cuddle, which you reciprocate eagerly. “but i helped her.”

your goddaughter corroborates this, giving you a hug of her own in greeting. “yeah cos we have the same one and no-one else has it because they're from our dads’ work. but mine has an sticker that's pink,” she almost whacks you with said water bottle in her haste to show you the barbie sticker half-stuck over the 75 logo. “it was at the sink and not my seat.”

“oh, well, that's good you got it,” you pat her head. “did your dad tell you this morning that it would be me picking you up because mummy's not feeling well?”

“yeah. he said baby's making her tummy sore, so i'm going home in the car with you.”

“that's right,” you take cara's hand, heading out towards the almost-empty car park. “let's go to the car now, babies.”

“mum!” connor looks aghast. “we're not babies. i'm five.”

“i'm nearly six,” dylan says proudly. “when baby gets here i'll be six. and lena will be four. and you too, cara.”

your youngest looks at you, brow furrowed; you have to stop yourself giggling at how much she looks like george. “i'll be four?”

“yes, angel. you and lena won't be the tiny babies any more, will you? we'll all have an actual baby to look after.”

cara hums, too preoccupied to be excited about the thought of a new friend. “will i get a party when i'm four?”

“oh, i think so,” you unlock the car, scooping her up with a kiss to her cheek before settling her into her carseat. “you know what dad and matty are like. any excuse to celebrate! right, dyl, you get in there, darling, watch your step,” fastening her seatbelt, you shout across the girls to your son. “you alright, con?”

“mhmm!”

you check anyway - he's fine - before getting in yourself. “alright, munchkins, home time.”

what should only be a ten-minute drive to the healy house actually ends up being twenty-five because of traffic, but it's pleasant enough - the kids are good as gold, patiently playing i spy, softly giggling the whole time and warming your heart. you knew all along that your babies would be best friends with your best friends’, but seeing dylan - tiny for her age, shockingly tentative from birth - yap and laugh along with your two like this is a heartwarming (and only slightly terrifying) indication that the kids will genuinely end up being as close (read: codependent) as their fathers are.

their fathers, who are still at the studio working diligently, you learn when your friend waddles (there's no other word for it) out to the car to get dylan despite you yelling “stay there! i'll bring her up!” repeatedly when you reach her house. she rolls her eyes as she tells you, absentmindedly rubbing her baby bump, an air of vague exhaustion hanging around her. “according to matthew, they're working on until half 6 tonight, so they can take the weekend off and do final tweaks on monday, and that's them done,” she scoffs. “can you believe that?”

“of course not. george has been promising to be home at half 4 for the past three weeks,” you snort. “and as for final tweaks…”

“oh, another month, at least.”

“literally. that baby girl of yours might arrive before they send that final mix off.”

“don't, i'm actually nervous about that,” she giggles, cradling her stomach before pulling you into a hug. “i'd better go before elena tries to cut her own hair again. d'you want to do dinner next friday, us and the kids - and the boys, if they ever unchain themselves from that mixing desk?”

“i'll bring starters and dessert,” you kiss her cheek. “take it easy, alright?”

“yeah. hope you get to see your husband this weekend, babe!”

“you too!”

you really, really hope you do; after an hour in tesco, you and the kids get home well after george's originally-planned home time, and your heart sinks when you unlock the door to the lights still off and no sign of him, other than the half-drunk coffee he left this morning and a couple of cigarette butts in the kitchen ashtray. moments like these are sometimes harder than when he's actually away touring, you think - it's less upsetting missing george when there are oceans between you than it is when you're ships in the night in the same house.

still, you've got the kids to keep you distracted from being melancholy; it's impossible to be anything other than overjoyed when your sweet babies insist on group cuddles on the sofa while you watch another episode of balamory, or when the two of them run to get their stepstools so they can watch you make fajitas for dinner with genuine interest (well, connor more than cara), or during dinner itself, when connor collapses into contagious giggles at the sight of his little sister’s face covered in guacamole. but they miss their dad, too, despite all the happiness, as admitted by cara while she's clinging onto you in piggyback while you do the dishes. “when's daddy home?”

you sigh, doing your best to keep the sadness out of it. “m'not sure yet, angel. he'll phone when he's leaving his work, though.”

“‘kay,” she digs her little chin into your shoulder, only slightly uncomfortably for you. “will he read me a story?”

“i bet he will,” you put away the last plate, wiping your hands before swinging her round to hold her in front of you; once her laughter subsides, you speak again. “daddy loves reading stories to you and connor.”

cara nods. “and he hasn't done it in ages.”

well, four days, but to a three-year-old… that probably feels like an eternity. the thought brings a lump to your throat. “he will, though, soon, munchkin. daddy will be home soon, and he'll read you a bedtime story,” biting back a sniffle, you spot a parenting advantage. “that is, if you brush your teeth extra well once you put your pyjamas on. yeah?”

“yeah!”

ironically, coincidentally, whatever you want to call it, the omw home text from george flashes up on your watch during cara's bathtime, the last step in what her dad likes to call “the ‘pre-bedtime routine’ routine”. she squeals when you tell her, kicking her little legs with such enthusiasm that half the bathwater ends up over you, and her brother rushes into the room in a panic. “what's going on? why is cara screaming? is she ok?”

wriggling even as you lift her into a cosy towel, cara answers. “yeah! daddy's coming to read us a story!”

“oh!” your son's face lights up. “really, mummy?”

“yes, darling, he just sent a message,” you confirm. “d'you want to go and choose a book while i get cara into her pyjamas? and then we can wait for him together?”

“mhmm” connor moves to leave, but turns back in the doorway to look at the two of you. there's a familiar smile on his face, and you're not sure whether to be worried about whatever sneaky thing he's about to suggest or pissed off that both of your kids look nothing like you. “or…”

you brace yourself. “or what, con?”

“we don't wait and we hide and then jump out and surprise him.”

the laugh escapes your lips before you even realise. fuck it. “alright. let's do it…”

the cheers you get in response are deafening.

“... but,” you raise your eyebrows pointedly. “only if you pick a book for your bedtime story now, connor,” matching his nods, you turn to your youngest in her towel cocoon. “and you brush your teeth properly, like we agreed earlier.”

cara nods so excitedly that the towel falls off her head. connor laughs, and you can't help chuckling either. “okay, babies - don't get stroppy, con, you're gonna be my babies forever, alright? anyway,” you ruffle his hair. “we'll hide in the wardrobe in your room. d'you want to wait there for me and cara, munchkin?”

“yeah!” he darts off, and seconds later you hear him rifling through the little bookshelf in his bedroom. “i picked a book!”

“good boy!” you call, before turning back to your still-beaming girl. “will you be good, madam?”

she nods sweetly. and she really is - there isn't a peep of a complaint at all. not while you're drying and dressing her, not during teeth-brushing, not even when you've got her sat on the bathroom counter as you brush and braid her hair, which is usually something she prefers george doing “cos it's not sore when daddy does it”.

whatever. at least you still have hair.

hyper-aware of the fact that time is of the essence, you comb through cara's fringe once more, before scooping her up into your arms and kissing her little cheek. “what do we think, munchkin - d'you think you look good?”

“hmmm,” cara squints at her reflection, then grins. “yeah!”

“i think so too. shall we go and get connor and wait for daddy?”

a nod against your shoulder, and off you go on the short jaunt to your son's room. connor's already sitting in the massive built-in wardrobe, book in hand and an eager smile on his face. you smile in return, settling down beside him and pulling the cupboard door almost fully-closed; you're careful to leave a crack in front of you, so you'll be able to see your husband when he arrives. which, actually, should be imminently, so you'd better come up with a game plan. you tug your kids close to you. “so, when daddy gets here-”

“mum, why are you being quiet?” the confusion is evident on connor's sweet little face even in the minimal light. “dad isn't here yet.”

he's got a point. you blink. “true. anyway, like i was saying, when he does get here… wait for me to open the door, and then you can jump on daddy, yeah?”

“can we shout too?”

“i don't see why not. but no bad words, you - just because you've heard matty say them doesn't mean you can,” you point at connor, before turning to cara. “and no screaming from you, you hear me?”

“yes, mummy.”

“good,” your eyes widen at the sound of the front door opening, closely followed by george shouting a greeting as he dumps his bag, and your voice shifts to a whisper. “quiet, now, alright? let's see how long it takes daddy to find us.”

there's a whispered chorus of agreements, and then - miraculously - your kids go silent, aside from the quick little huffs of air signifying silent giggling; these get more frequent when you all hear george wandering around downstairs, calling your names in turn and humming to himself in bewilderment. when his footsteps become audible on the stairs, cara practically wraps herself around your arm, all but shaking with kinetic energy and clutching her brother's hand as they hear their father reach the landing.

you, too, are laughing to yourself as you listen to george opening and closing doors in search, monologuing as he goes. “nowhere to be seen and they've left every bloody light in the building on. s'like blackpool illuminations,” comes the gravel grumbling so characteristic to the love of your life, as he wanders into what you know is the bathroom; he sniffs loudly, and you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from cackling. “strawberry shampoo… cara's bedtime routine. maybe everyone's in,” another door opens. “here! oh. empty. must be in connor's room, then.”

three strides across the landing, and there he is - george, his tiredness obvious even through the tiny crack between wardrobe doors. he turns slowly, taking in the emptiness of the room (and making your heart glow when you catch a glimpse of his pretty face), and - as if by magic - stops with his back to the wardrobe, muttering “where are they?” to himself.

partially out of slight guilt for putting him through this, but mostly because you think connor and cara might explode if you make them wait any longer to surprise their dad, you push the wardrobe doors open. the kids fly out, little voices shouting “hi dad!” and “we're here!” as little bodies land on george's massive one; he gasps in shock, and you're extremely thankful for the victorian high ceilings in your house, because your husband's head (and the rest of him, probably) would absolutely have hit anything lower when he jumped in abject terror. he sinks to the floor, head in his hands. “jesus christ,” he sighs, before standing and tucking a kid under each arm, swinging them around and filling the room with laughter. “you meanies, surprising me like that. i thought you'd all run away and left me!”

“we would never,” you step forward, taking cara into your own arms and pecking george on the lips. “we like playing tricks on you too much.”

“yes, that one's obvious,” george rolls his eyes; his face breaks into a big smile, and he kisses your nose. “hi, by the way, angel. thanks for the interesting welcome home.”

“i wish i could take credit.”

“oh? it wasn't mummy?” george dramatically looks from kid to kid. “who's the evil genius among us, then?”

cara giggles, nuzzling her head into your neck. “connor.”

“reeeeeeeeally?” george cocks his head to look at his boy, who's grinning from ear to ear. “s'that right, munchkin? it was your idea?”

connor giggles. “yeah.”

“in that case, then,” george tickles your son through his t-shirt, smiling at the raucous giggles that follow - from cara, too, actually. “say sorry, and i'll stop.”

“sorry! sorrysorrysorry!” connor's laughs fade to little hums, and he snuggles into his dad while they both catch their breath. “mummy planned it though. tickle her!”

george winks at you. “oh, i will, later. but first,” he flicks your son on the nose. “bathtime? and then a bedtime story for the little ones?”

cara nods. “and then mummy and daddy bedtime?”

“once i've redone your hair, munchkin? i think so,” your husband smiles at you, eyes twinkling. “of sorts, at least. you up for that, sweetheart?”

“oh, absolutely.”

#mads muses #promptober75 #mads does writing #dad!george #connor #cara #george daniel fanfiction #george daniel fanfic #george daniel fic #george daniel fluff #george daniel x reader #george x reader

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chaosology · 1 year ago

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invisible strings

Sam Kerr x reader

uses this+this request

warnings: underage drinking, gay pining, not proof read so u can call me out on grammar and i wont get my feelings hurt.

masterlist

September, 2003 - Perth, Australia

"Mum, it's so obvious she doesn't want me there!" You whined. Your mother was haphazardly chucking a soccer ball in a birthday bag, arranging the blue paper around it so it was semi-presentable. Bless her, but you knew Sam wouldn't care for the wrapping.

She had awkwardly handed you a party invitation after school that day as you plucked your bags off the racks.

"My mum said I had to invite a girl to come, sorry. There's good cake, though. It's ice cream."

She ran off almost as fast as she appeared, leaving you outside your Year 4 class alone. Why you? You weren't sporty at all, she could've at least invited one of the netball girls - they were always picking Sam for their teams, too. You were the anti-Sam, spending lunch with a small group of girls playing hopscotch and batting your eyes for the teacher's approval.

Black marker in your hand, you scribbled down a messy "happy birthday, Sammy K" in one of the white spaces on the ball. Your mum had taken you to Big W to choose one after school immediately after, given the late notice. You held it back, admiring your work. Would a heart be appropriate?

Yes.

You only turn 10 once, right? You added it front and centre on the ball, writing your name in the middle so she knew who it was from (though, she could probably tell a tween boy didn't make such an effort).

The party was, as expected, all boys. Sam's mother had greeted you warmly at the door, ushering you in with a comforting (and almost apologetic smile). Sam ran over excitedly to grab the gift bag off you, grabbing your arm to pull you over to the snacks table. You were introduced to all the other boys there, most of whom you knew from school.

You smiled shyly at all of them, spending most of the time sitting on the folded chairs outside while nibbling on some fairy bread and praying your mum would come get you. Sam ran around with the boys all afternoon, leaving you all alone with your thoughts. As it turned out, you had gotten the wrong type of football for Sam. You felt guilty for rushing at the shops, but Sam had hid the disappointment well, even complimenting your handwriting.

As the day came to an end, you were joined by Isaac. He was a friend of Sam's from an outside sports league, but had forgotten his asthma puffer and had to call it after two hours of straight footy. You talked most of the afternoon, complaining about your random 10 year old problems. You couldn't help noticing the way Sam came to talk to you more when she noticed Isaac there.

She probably just felt bad, you thought.

October, 2007 - Perth, Australia

Things had blossomed with Isaac. You remained friends for a few years, which eventually grew into something more romantic. He was your first boyfriend, and unfortunately your first love.

You were both invited to a party up in the hills. He had begged you to go, having become engrossed in the rumours of cruisers and beers being supplied by who-fucking-care's older brother. You had little interest, but his incessant nagging was beginning to piss you off, so you agreed.

Unfortunately as you both matured, Isaac changed. He was egotistical and big-headed, busy with AFL and making crude comments when he thought you weren't listening. It was hard not to see him in a different light, but sometimes you were offered a small glimpse at the small, sweet boy who sat out of breath next to you at the party.

You tugged on the hem of the sort black dress you were wearing, trying desperately hard to pull it further down your thigh. Isaac suggested "something sexy" for the party, much to your disagreement. You relented, and were now regretting it as you faced the chilly atmosphere of Perth's spring. He showed little interest in you while you sat next to him in on the couch, only passing you a beer and whispering "don't be lame" in your ear. Safe to say, the party kinda sucked.

You considered telling him you were going out front for air, but the way he was basically eye-fucking Karen Davies made you think twice. You wandered outside with teary eyes, Corona bottle in your hand as you breezed through the crowd of sweaty teenagers.

"Y/N?"

You turned, face to face with... Sam? She was older now, with slightly longer hair down to her shoulders and dressed in an oversized hoodie. Why was she giving you butterflies?

"Hey Sam," your voice came, "Sorry, just getting some air."

"Mind if I join?"

You motioned wordlessly for her to follow, her hand placed lightly on the small of your back as you navigated the halls to the front yard. God, you were so glad she couldn't see the red hot blush that painted your cheeks.

The two of you found yourselves sitting on the curb, legs stretched lazily out into the street.

"So Isaac's a dick now, 'ey?"

It was so nonchalant that it barely seemed hostile, Sam just took another swig from her bottle, grumbling when she noticed it was empty.

"You also don't have to drink the rest of that, you know? Doesn't make you lame or whatever."

You silently passed her the bottle, expecting for her to just chuck in a bin when she passed one next. However, she downed it in one go.

"Dickhead! I thought you were gonna throw it out! What if I wanted that later?" You laughed, playfully attempting to shove her off the curb. She only giggled in response, lightly shoving you back.

"Hey, I never got to say thanks for that soccer ball all those years ago," she started, "I actually play now. Mum 'n dad made me stop AFL, all the guys are bigger than me. But I actually really like soccer, your ball was the one I first used." She looked almost embarrassed confessing it, a small blush spreading across her face.

"Oh god, I remember that. Sorry, I think I scribbled all over it."

"Nah, it's cute- It's cool, sorry. It's cool, I liked it." She stammered, getting what looked like progressively more and more red.

"What are you up to now?" She said, awkwardly trying to change the subject.

"Oh I dunno, not much. Studying a lot, really. Isaac's been so odd lately so it's usually just me... It'd be cool to be a doctor, I think."

She looked up, eyebrows raised.

"No way! I always knew you'd do something like that, you were such a teacher's pet in primary school... The smartest, most nerdiest one there." She was back to her playful teasing now, and you found yourself slightly wishing that she'd flirt like this more.

What about Isaac? Were you a bad person? Why was Sam making you feel like this? Your head was starting to spin aggressively, the alcohol taking it's toll on your slight, 15 year old self. Sam grabbed your arm, rushing to hold back your hair as you crawled over to a bush, puking all over it. You felt too sick to be embarrassed.

Most of what you remember was her putting you in a taxi and slipping her phone number in your pocket. The next morning, you made sure to find the little note and stick it to your wall, staring longingly at the message written on it.

"Let's be friends - Sammy K"

You also broke up with Isaac.

April, 2014 - Perth / New York City

Y/N Y/L/N: haha sorry, is this the right Sam?? :D

Samantha Kerr: no way, yeah! how r u

Y/N Y/L/N: good! i'm so sorry i never messaged u after that party :( my mum never let me get a phone

↳ i wanted facebook to find u

Samantha Kerr: heheh no worries, what time is it for u rn?

Y/N Y/L/N: it's 9pm LOL aren't u here??

Samantha Kerr: nopeee :p i'm in new york

↳ i play soccer here! well for a bit cos i have to go back and forth

Y/N Y/L/N: no way, that's so sick... i'm jelly. stuck studying rn

Samantha Kerr: u haven't changed

Y/N Y/L/N: didn't u call me "teacher's pet" >:)

↳ med is super fun tho... come see me for sport injuries

Samantha Kerr: ...

Samantha Kerr: how's Isaac?

Y/N Y/L/N: omg Isaac haha, long gone... not my type

Samantha Kerr: ur type... not dickheads i'm guessing?

Y/N Y/L/N: *men

Samantha Kerr: LOL hahahaha same

↳ welcome to the better side

Y/N Y/L/N: ^_^

↳ how's things for u???

Samantha Kerr: heh yea good, the team here is super sick. NY is cool, lots of weird stuff... and christmas is so cold. my gf from here tho so she always makes fun of my accent :DDD

Y/N Y/L/N: ohh cool srry didn't know u had a gf... met thru soccer??

Samantha Kerr: yeh, we play for the same team. she's awesome

↳ someone @ home for u?

Y/N Y/L/N: haha no :/ someone but i don't think it'll work out

Samantha Kerr: aw that sucks,,, don't give up tho

↳ we should hang when i'm back next!

Y/N Y/L/N: that would be cool. i'd like that!

December, 2016 - Perth, Australia

She was always on your mind, but could she say the same of you? You and Sam had gotten so much closer over the years, texting 24/7 when either of you had the chance. She was returning back for Christmas and you were on your way to pick her up from the airport, helping to surprise to her family.

You hadn't been able to date properly since that conversation with Sam on the curb. Nobody else made your heart skip a beat like she did, and you found yourself yearning to feel her touch once again, even if it was brief. You didn't care. You comforted her when she went through her first serious break up, and she would stay on call for hours while you broke down about the pressures of med school. It felt like there was something pulling the two of you together, and god, you hoped she felt it too.

Standing at the International Arrivals gate was nerve-racking. Every flurry of passengers sent your nerves flying, eyes anxiously darting from person to person as you picked at your nails in anticipation. You were so nervous, you almost missed her.

She was finally here.

Her short hair was tied back, and the dark rings under her eyes proved how drained she was from the flight. She lugged a large, black suitcase with her, looking around until her eyes met yours.

You both rushed forward. She engulfed you in a warm hug that felt like... home?

No words were shared as you stood there in each other's embrace.

The car ride to Sam's house was comfortably silent, but you couldn't help but notice how Sam's hand had come to rest on your leg as you drove. It felt like it was on fire, but she didn't acknowledge it, sunglasses over her eyes as she looked tiredly out her window.

You were probably just reading into things, Sam admitted once that she's a really touchy person. You didn't want to lead yourself on.

Sam's family had invited you inside for the celebrations, surrounding you with all sorts of questions about schooling and your life. In a quiet moment, it was just you and her mother alone on the couch. Her siblings and dad were outside chatting at the barbecue, with the two of you remaining inside to escape the heat.

"She loves you, you know," her mother said matter-of-factly, "you love her too."

"Excuse me? I swear I-"

"Oh, don't be silly." She replied, leaning to hold your hand.

"That girl looks at you like you hung the stars. I get so many calls of Y/N this... Y/N that... She's besotted."

"I- I don't know what to say," you said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill, "was it that obvious?"

"Oh, no no. Don't worry. Us mother's have a way with things. Don't think yours doesn't see it too."

You laughed, raising your head to meet your eye. She released your hands, patting you on the knee as she walked off at the same time Sam conveniently entered. Nice one, Roxy.

"God... do you remember that birthday party I had?" She laughed, coming to sit next to you. She stretched her arms over the top of the couch, her fingertips only inches from where you were currently resting.

"How could I forget? Hey guys, this is Y/N that doesn't play footy - isn't that how you introduced me?"

She just laughed at your mock offence, small apologies leaving her mouth as she reminisced.

"I mean, it wasn't a lie."

"Oh fuck off, Kerr." You shoved her lightly, watching as her hand came to her chest to feign offence. You both fell quiet, meeting each other's eyes in a once again comfortable silence.

"Why me?"

Sam looked taken aback, her eyes down as she searched for an answer.

"Why not you?" She said, looking up. You could tell the mood had shifted as her eyes met yours, a hint of vulnerability across her face.

"I think... I think I always knew it was you."

"Sam-"

"No," she spoke softly, her hand coming to hold yours, "Just let me finish?"

You nodded.

"I can't really explain it, but there's just this pull. It feels like I can't stay away, you know? We always found a way back to each other, even after all these years. It's just- It's just always you"

The tears that were threatening to spill finally did as you pulled her close. You could taste the salty tears that left both your eyes as your lips met hers, a soft kiss that felt like it lasted a lifetime. Her hands came to hold the sides of your face, deepening the kiss until you were gasping for breath. Reluctantly, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers.

"I think I love you, Y/N."

"I think I love you too, Sam."

July 14th, 2020 - London to Perth

"Have you got your comfy shoes, babe?"

A small "fuck!" echoed from your shared bedroom as your girlfriend scrambled to fish her shoes out from whatever pile she had thrown them in. Standing by the door, you watched as she stumbled forward and pulled her socks on, almost knocking over several pot plants as she did so. At 3am in the morning, she was not exactly a vision of grace and elegance.

The two of you had bounced around countries as Sam switched clubs, settling in the UK as she signed a contact with Chelsea. Your medical degree allowed a job almost anywhere and so you quickly found work at a nearby children's hospital, much to Sam's delight.

At the moment though, you were saying goodbye to your London apartment as you jetted back to your hometown. As far as you knew, there was no specific reason to be returning home, with Sam citing homesickness. You thought it suspicious as she was there only two months ago, but never bothered questioning it. You both missed Australia and eventually planned on moving back, but for now you were happy living a busy life in the UK.

Sam always had a thing about planes, as you came to learn. She was ok when they were completely in the air, always able to distract herself with some form of tv or movie (or sleeping pills), but you could tell by the way her knee was bouncing that this time would be no different.

"Hey, it's alright", you said, palm reaching across to settle her, "we'll be ok, these things are freaky safe now."

"I know. Logically I know it's fine but I just... I can't help it"

You only sighed, kissing her cheek and taking her hand in yours. The safety video played on the screens in front of you as you pulled her head to your shoulder, stroking her hair. Her body relaxed into yours as her breathing steadied, and you could feel her racing heart start finally slowing down.

She was drowsy from the early wake up and easily fell into a peaceful slumber. You prayed for no turbulence, admiring the few freckles and lines that were littered across her perfect face. She needed the rest, having been so anxious about this trip and her upcoming tournaments that the stress had almost permanently darkened under her eyes.

With her hand in yours, you soon followed her in sleep.

July 17th, 2020 - Perth, Australia

"I need to shake off the jetlag, wanna go for a walk?"

You turned suddenly as she called from the bathroom, walking out and drying her hair.

"Mum said they redid the park up the road, good field for soccer... We can practice some more if you'd like?" She asked, almost nervously. You had requested Sam start teaching you more about the game; a role she took very seriously. She was showing you all the tricks she'd learnt, even trying her hardest not to laugh when you fell flat on your ass several times in a row.

The two of you set off just before golden hour, navigating the streets of Fremantle to the park. Sam's hand was in yours the whole time, the other holding the soccer ball close to her hip - she was being so protective other the goddamn thing.

"I'll stand here, we'll just go back and forth until you get your confidence up."

She was taking several steps back away from you, positioning the ball at her feet before kicking it towards you.

"You know this is the one you gave me, right?"

You kicked it back, reciprocating.

"God, you're such a sap... Love you for it, though." She only laughed, winking as she did so. Even after 4 years, she still made you blush like you were 15.

The both of you continued, going though the motions until Sam decided to give it a forceful kick, landing it far behind you.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Sorry, love. Rules of the game; she who missed must go fetch."

"That's not even- Oh, whatever"

You ran off as Sam followed behind you - why was she moving from her spot? That's when you noticed it.

"Hey dummy, this isn't even the ball I gave you - I used black maker on mine." You jokingly shouted back, picking it up to hold it by your side. "Got some fangirl groupies to replace me, huh? Can't believe you thought I used red marker."

She stood a few metres away from you, a small smirk on her face.

"Why don't you read it then, genius?"

You looked down, confused. What was she playing at?

Marry me?

It was written neatly in red marker, a giant heart below it - just like the one you first gifted Sam at her party all those years ago. You looked up, only to be met with the sight of Sam on one knee in front of you, a small blue box in her hands.

"Well?"

She had tears in her eyes, but her smirk remained.

You were still speechless, the red words echoing in your brain. She wanted you to marry her. She wanted you to be her wife. You sank to your knees to be level with her, gently grabbing her face to pull her in for a kiss.

You could feel her smiling against your lips, sliding the ring on your finger wordlessly as your mouth met hers.

#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr fanfic #sam kerr fanfiction #woso x reader #matildas x reader #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr requests #fanfiction #sam kerr x reader fluff #fluff #sam kerr x fem!reader #sam kerr imagines #woso fanfiction #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #matildas imagine

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lemonlyman-dotcom · 3 months ago

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All The Stars Are Closer - New fic live on ao3 now!

Tarlos | 12 k | E

Happy birthday to my beloved friend @carlos-in-glasses 🥰 I hope you enjoy this screwball romantic comedy, which includes some winks at your delightful fic A Naked House 💕 Thank you for being such a lovely and supportive friend, I’m incredibly grateful that you chose me as a buddy, and to have you in my pocket every day!! Thank you to @ladytessa74 & @thisbuildinghasfeelings for conspiring with me on this one, I’ve had such fun noodling on it with you both for the past three months!!!

The Catan Crew heads to Galveston for Tarlos’s beach bachelor party and everyone’s letting loose, especially Carlos. But when a drunk Carlos disappears and the gang splits up to find him, TK worries about his ability to be a good husband. Surrounded by the love and support of his friends, he finds he’s stronger than he knows.

“Oh! I know what’s going on,” Iris interjects, pointing an accusatory finger at Carlos from the other side of the table where she’s squeezed onto a cushioned bench between Paul and Mateo. “You don’t want the Silver Surfer to come out.”

“The Silver Surfer?” TK asks, blinking between Iris and Carlos.

“You’re getting married and you’ve never met the Silver Surfer?” The outrage in Iris’s voice is laced with too much delight to be sincere.

“Um,” TK looks from Iris back to a mildly mortified Carlos. “Is this some sort of inside joke?”

“Bro, is the Silver Surfer your dick?” Mateo asks.

“Oh my god,” Nancy sputters while the rest of the group snickers.

“The Silver Surfer,” Iris smirks, “is his drunk alter ego.”

Read on ao3

Tag list @pimento-playing-hopscotch @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @guardian-angle22 @whatsintheboxmh @captain-gillian @welcometololaland @honeybee-taskforce @heartstringsduet @ladytessa74 @herefortarlos @lightningboltreader @literateowl @liminalmemories21 @reyesstrand @paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @kiwichaeng @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @firstprince-history-huh @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @tellmegoodbye @freneticfloetry @certifiedflower @noxsoulmate @goldenskykaysani @toomanycupsoftea 💕

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #tk strand x carlos reyes #911 lone star fic #tarlos fanfic

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starlightshadowsworld · 8 months ago

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I refuse to even consider a world where Kunikida wasn't an absolute menace in college. You think this man was sat minding his own buisness?

He probably got involved in fights that weren't even about him.

Earned the ire of most of his professors because he constantly talked back. Arguing to the point he had to be escorted off the premises.

Because Kunikida doesn't half ass anything, he was ready to die for his ideals. And I highly doubt he wasn't like that back than.

He's never followed a rule he didn't agree with and he's never been silent about what he disagrees with, so why would he start now.

Kunikida probably chained himself up during protests and dared the cops to move him. Definitely punched and or bit people who pissed him off.

He's a leader, he rallied people to causes and fought for what he believed in. He's genuine and he's nice and he found his crowd.

Kunikida was always looking out for the little guys. He got invited to parties and made sure everyone got escorted back to their dorms safely.

I can see him falling in and out of relationships because he doesn't know what he wants. And writing his requirements so he doesn't make the same mistakes again.

Kunikida's not the smartest in his class but he's still up there. He's diligent and can dissappear into the library for days.

Kunikida works himself too hard and tip toes the edge of burn out like he's playing hopscotch. His schedule is meticulous and yet all his assignments get turned in at 3am.

He was seen as the one most likely to be successful and most likely to end up in jail. On paper he's the perfect student but everyone knows better.

#kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #bsd #bungou stray dogs

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lex9923 · 9 months ago

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Tw// SA

This will be my one and only official statement on this situation, because frankly I’m done with all of this mental hopscotch happening.

I am a sexual assault victim. I was the same age as Caiti is now when it happened, and I was cornered with his hands down my pants touching my vagina and up my shirt touching my boobs, while I tried to get away and make it stop. I still to this day don’t know who my attacker was, but it will follow me for the rest of my life. It’s been five years since then, and my story has not changed once. Not ever. I hadn’t told people for a couple years cause I thought since I didn’t know who my attacker was, I wouldn’t be believed. As well as the fact that I came forward about a sexual harassment I faced at a job and was met with “well, boys will be boys”. Through it all, I am here, and I survived.

Watching the reaction to this situation from both of the main parties involved, those who weren’t there, those who were, and the fans had sent me spiraling. I’ve spent the past two weeks reliving that trauma from five years ago cause I thought I misinterpreted my assault as something else. I had not, and never have. It’s been incredibly invalidating watching the alleged “victim” change the story multiple times, make fake texts, omit important information, all while not even listening to the person she accused of a criminally offensive act.

Caiti is absolutely allowed to feel uncomfortable and regret what happened after the fact, but it is not, and will not ever be assault-unless George actually did touch her boobs, and then that will be a different discussion, but with her credibility disappearing, I’ll only believe it if he admits it himself. I’m trying to extend grace to her being young, sexually inexperienced, and caught up in online culture, but it’s hard the longer this gets dragged out. There are things you do when approaching a situation like this:

1. You absolutely need to provide evidence and proof of your claims. You can’t prove something that never happened, but you can prove something that did. It’s why it’s innocent until proven guilty. Expecting people to blindly believe you is delusional at worst and ignorant at best.

2. You must absolutely have your story 100% correct and factual to how you perceived what happened, before bringing forth any accusations. Using purposefully charged language and then changing the story to match the one you accused is not it. Nor is changing your story yet again when people are catching on to the inconsistencies.

3. Allow the accused person to defend themself. You can’t expect people to listen to all of your claims-most of them blindly doing so-and then get upset when people wait for both sides to say their piece, especially when you present no evidence at your initial statement. Again, you have to prove guilt. If you can’t prove it, the accused are allowed to defend themself.

4. You are in no way obligated to accept apologies, but acknowledging one was made-multiple times in fact- is the bare minimum. Trying to change your story one last time to make it seem even worse than what you both agreed upon, and then hiding behind “I’m not going to address this anymore” is manipulative at worst and cowardly at best.

I hope Caiti gets therapy, cause it’s clear she’s been severely affected by something, though I’m not sure she even knows what it is. I also hope she learns from this, and next time utilizes the “direct message” function every single app has. This could have been a dm, and the way it spiraled has been a shitshow and her intentions are coming off less and less pure the more this gets dragged out. I’m so sorry she was uncomfortable, and regretful, but until she shows any proof whatsoever of any assault happening, it will never be. I hope she heals, and I hope she gets better friends cause they have all failed her.

For George, I’m sorry this got blown so out of proportion and no one even privately talked to him about any uncomfortability being felt. I’m sorry his friends are performative. I’m hopeful that he was made aware of things he wasn’t before, and will do better next time. He is not irredeemable, and I believe growth is possible (the difference in his two responses proves as such). I hope this isn’t the last we see of him or his content, and I hope he can heal from this as well.

To my fellow SA survivors, I’m so incredibly sorry that our trauma has been thrown around like this. Our hurt and pain do not deserve to be mocked in this way, and I wish it would’ve never even happened. You’re stronger than what happened, regardless of how shitty this situation has been for us. And as a 24 year old, I like to consider myself a big sister of sorts, so I love all of you. We got through it then, we’ll do it again.

Speaking woman to woman, I’m sorry this has been so messed up. This will make it harder for us to come forward in the future and that is indescribably frustrating. However, that does not take away from the pain and hurt we went through, and I hope if you do have the strength to come forward, you are believed.

I’m done with this whole situation. It should not have come to this point, and if you stayed this far, I greatly appreciate you reading this. One last time. Caiti, I’m sorry you were so uncomfortable. Get therapy, better friends, and take a break from the internet. George, I hope you learn from this situation, and I’m sorry you were made out to be a criminally offensive person before giving your side or anyone ever speaking to you.

I hope you both heal.

I hope sexual assault victims having to relive trauma, and are affected by this continue to heal.

I love you all.

Lex

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vedgie-demynm · 9 months ago

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BEHOLD…

MY MYTHSWAP AU!!!

So, in this Au, Crafty is the only non-mythical critter, while the other seven are all different kinds of mythical creatures!!!

Here’s each character here!!!

Even if Crafty is a plain ol’ pony in this au, they’re still just as important and loving as the others; in fact, they’re the ✨protagonist✨! They stumbled their way into the Realm of the Myths while taking a stroll as they thought about somewhere they could paint, before they met DogDay and Bobby in the woods. During their three years in the Realm of the Myths, Crafty’s been careful, they’ve been loved, and they’re learning more each day!

DogDay is a Werehound, but instead of every full moon, it’s every Solar Eclipse he turns into a monster, while every Lunar Eclipse, he’s your good ol’ normal sun dog!

His younger sibling, CatNap, is a Sphinx, well, except without the “human face” part, lol… Much like his brother, they, too, can turn into a monster, except it’s more at will, and mostly during waxing crescent moons!

Bobby Bearhug is an Onikuma, although, she did use to be an average critter, like Crafty. She, along with Picky, brings in food for the others every night. She stays close by with CatNap because when she became a demon, he was right there by her side… d’awww!

Kickin’ Chicken is a Cockatrice, and since it doesn’t really specify what kind of dragon the rooster has to be, he’s part leviathan! He’s an expert at surfing, and is basically the “rich, popular kid” trope (except he’s the sweetest to his friends!) He and Bubba were best friends ever since they were toddlers, and Kickin wouldn’t want their flame to extinguish any time soon! He even talks about many different themes whilst baking with his sister, so that he doesn’t get too bored.

Bubba Bubbaphant is a Siren (mainly because none of the mythical elephants didn’t really fit ToT), but instead of singing and testing the limits of his beautiful voice (/j), he infodumps about one’s interests to try reeling them in! The nerd’s a bit meaner in this AU, since ocean sirens are usually that way, but he can tolerate his friends!

Picky Piggy is a Boar; she’s pretty violent, but that doesn’t stop her from having fun with her friends! In fact, she uses her violent tendencies to her advantage whenever she cooks! She’s Crafty’s best friend, and she’s the one who made them their “horn” out of a party hat! Picky’s the (adoptive) older sister of Kickin, and she makes sure he’s healthy, both physically and psychologically! (What a sweet sister… sob…)

And last, but DEFINITELY not the least, Hoppy Hopscotch, the jumping Jackalope! She’s pretty mischievous, in fact, to the point where DogDay made her own Time Out Chair™️! She even steals all of the coffee sometimes, so that she can have more energy than when she’s normally hyperactive; but, she is patient whenever she needs to — in fact, out of all of them, she’s likely the most patient.

BTW!!! You can ship anything in this AU, but I have only 3 simple rules:

Nothing Problematic

Nothing that would be in Alabama

And each ship should be to each character’s romantic interest

For example, on what each critter is (of course, there are all headcanons):

Crafty is Lesbian (they/them)

DogDay is Bigender and Bisexual (he/her)

CatNap is Non-Binary and Bisexual (he/they)

Bobby is Transfem and Pansexual (she/they)

Hoppy is Questioning her Interests as of now (she/they)

Bubba is Bisexual (he/him)

Kickin’ is Transmasc and Gay (he/him)

Picky is Transfem and Lesbian (she/her)

That’s all, Folks! Love y’all!

(platonically, of course—)

#my art #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters #dogday #craftycorn #bubba bubbaphant #bobby bearhug #hoppy hopscotch #catnap #picky piggy #kickinchicken #mythical creatures #my au #alternate universe

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grvstnaya-svka · 5 months ago

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Matilda (‘96) Headcannons

*picking up where the movie left off : Miss Honey becomes principal of Crunchem Hall, they’ve moved into Magnus Honey’s old house - Miss Honey’s childhood home. Matilda’s adoption is finalized.*

Matilda asks if she can change her last name. Miss Honey was the mother that she always wanted. And she never particularly enjoyed being a Wormwood anyway. She had no use for that name. From now on, she shall be called Matilda Honey.

Miss Honey & Matilda have adopted the black cat (the one that trunchbull kicked). His name is Charles. Yes, after Charles Dickens. He is happy and healthy. He gets a gentle pat and kiss on the head from Matilda whenever she leaves the house. And Miss Honey is his favorite cuddle partner.

Miss Honey and Matilda walk to and from school together everyday. It’s their favorite part of the day. They get to debrief each other and sometimes they play games. Hopscotch or sometimes even racing. And, of course, Miss Honey always enjoys Matilda’s fun facts.

Nightly chocolates after supper! Miss Honey tells Matilda they don’t have to, but Matilda insists. Miss Honey is ecstatic that Matilda wants to continue the tradition. Obviously, she always gives Matilda the bigger half.

Picnics and gardening! (Obviously.) Miss honey teaches Matilda to garden. They use the herbs and vegetables for tea and cooking, which they also enjoy together.

Breakfast and tea each morning before school. Usually pancakes, as miss honey quickly learns that it’s Matilda’s favorite. Sometimes Jen picks some blueberries and strawberries to go with it. Matilda loves it!

Hella play dates and sleepovers with her best friends, Lavender and Amanda! On nights that Matilda isn’t home, Jennifer curls up on the couch; a book in one hand, petting Charles with the other. His purring is the most soothing sound.

Lissy Doll and Matilda’s rag doll sit on the shelf, right next to each other. Overtime, they develop a system to let each other know where they’ll be using the dolls. But usually they sit next to each other. Sometimes when one of them is home, missing the other, they’ll grab the others’ respective doll, and hold them for comfort.

Matilda slowly starts calling Miss Honey ‘Mom/mum’ and Jennifer nearly tears up the first couple times it happens. Jennifer asks Matilda if she may call her ‘Tilly’ and Matilda says yes. She also begins to introduce her to people as her daughter. Her brilliant, most wonderful daughter.

Weekends are spent at the library. Mrs Phelps is always happy to see little Matilda. Then she sees Miss Honey, and says, “it’s been a long time, eh Miss Jennifer?” “Yes it has, Mrs. Phelps. It’s good to see you!”

Matilda crafts the most lovely, heartfelt Mother’s Day cards for Miss Honey every May. Jenny treasures them deeply. The first one was a surprise. She didn’t imagine Matilda would’ve actually seen her as her mom. A maternal figure, sure. But she’d only just adopted the child.

In the same respect, while filing Matilda’s papers, she learns little Tilly’s birthday and organizes a surprise party for her. She invites all of Matilda’s friends from school, and some neighbors. (Even Mrs. Phelps sends in a card and a small book related gift.) Matilda finally gets a proper birthday! She gives Miss Honey the biggest hug when she arrives at the party and realizes what Jennifer’s put on for her. “Thank you! Nobody’s ever done this for me before. It’s wonderful! Thank you, thank you so much! I love it!”

Matilda’s drawings are proudly displayed up on the fridge. Her favorite is King Magnus & the Bumblebee. As well as the one of her and Matilda, or “Me & mum” as Matilda calls it.

Jennifer likes to give Matilda her old T-shirts. Matilda loves wearing them. They always smell so lovely. It’s like getting an endless hug from Miss Honey. It’s the best feeling in the whole world.

Matilda seldom uses her powers now. When she does, it’s usually to make Miss Honey smile.

Matilda does her schoolwork at the kitchen table while Jennifer does her own work across the table. They take tea breaks often.

Matilda visits Miss Honey in her new office between classes. She has a drawer full of all Matilda’s favorite snacks. Sometimes Lavender and Amanda come to visit too and are always greeted with a hug. “How are my girls doing today?” She asks. The principal’s office is a happy place. And of course, Miss Honey always greets her students at the front doors each morning.

The first thing Miss Honey does the next day following the forceful impeachment of the Trunch, is bring Death to the Chokey! With the help from a handful of her colleagues and the maintenance man, the pipe is repaired and is as good as new, the rotten smell is gone, and they dispose of the rusty nail riddled door. They make repairs to the rest of the school as well. Miss honey brings all the color and joy that’s supposed to come with learning and Crunchem Hall becomes a proper children’s school.

Whenever she gets the chance, Miss Honey reminds Matilda how grateful she is to have a daughter who is so bright and kind and beautiful. Matilda makes sure Miss Honey knows how grateful she is to have such an amazing, kind, beautiful mother.

One time, when Matilda gets in trouble at school, Jennifer learns that she’d been trying to tell her teacher about a bully in her class. He was a new student and thought it’d be wise to pick on Bruce, Lavender and herself. Matilda had decided she’s had enough. When he goes to hit Lavender after she blocks him from grabbing her glasses, Matilda uses her powers on instinct - & the next thing anyone knows, he’s somehow punched himself in the face instead. But the teacher didn’t quite see what happened. Miss Honey later tells Matilda, “I know you were trying to do the right thing, sweetheart, but I can’t have you hurting your classmates with your powers. Promise you won’t do it again?” “Yes ma’am.”

One morning, while reading the newspaper, Matilda sees that Trunchbull had been found and arrested and charged with Murder of the first Degree, child abuse and endangerment, along with a few other serious offenses. She immediately runs to show Jennifer, who lets out a sigh of disbelief and then relief. Finally, justice for her father. And her students. She gives Matilda a massive hug.

Miss Jennifer Honey is awarded Best Principal, of one of the top schools in the state. And rightfully so.

Neither of them have been so happy and so proud. Never did Matilda think this was what it would feel like when Miss Honey told her things were going to be different. All was well and right. Everything was perfect. Matilda had never felt so loved in her life. Miss Honey hadn’t felt so loved in a very long time.

#matilda 1996 #miss honey #matilda wormwood #wlw #sapphic #cottage aesthetic #cottagecore sapphic #miss jennifer honey #embeth davidtz #mara wilson #danny devito #rhea perlman

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the-flaming-nightmare · 1 month ago

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Tagged by the wonderful @pimento-playing-hopscotch and @laneybishop89! ❤

I FINALLY started on a Little!Buck and Little!TK crossover fic! A sickfic, to be precise~ 😉😈 So, here's a tiny bit of that:

Buck and TK had talked excessively over the phone for the past several months about finding time for the two of them and their dads to all get together in person so they could spend some little time with each other. And finally, after much planning and schedule conflicts, they had a date set.

When Owen told TK that his uncle wanted them both to come out to California for his cousin Yvonne's birthday party, TK asked if they could also make time to go see Buck. One phone discussion with the Grant-Nashs later, Owen was completely on board for that. His dad and him were going to spend five days with Uncle Robert and his family after the party, then the following weekend they were going to spend it with Buck and his. Bobby and Athena told Owen that him and TK didn't need to worry about paying for a hotel for the remainder of their trip, that they were welcome to stay the weekend at their home. After confirming with TK if that was something he was comfortable with, Owen accepted their offer.

When the Friday of Owen and TK's arrival to the Grant-Nash household finally came, Buck and TK had both gotten up at that morning in headspace and practically vibrating out of their skin with excitement. Bobby and Athena could hardly keep Buck seated at breakfast and lunch time, and Owen had to stop TK multiple times from running out of Robert's front door with his entire suitcase in hand. If anything, their excitement and overall energy only seemed to increase when they eventually did finally see each other that afternoon. All three adults were certainly kept on their toes until bedtime that day.

However, the same couldn't be said for the following day.

When Owen and Bobby went into the nursery to wake the boys up this morning, they quickly realized something wasn't right when they knelt beside their respective child on the floor where they had decided to sleep in a nest of blankets together the night before. An unnatural amount of heat radiated from both Buck and TK's sleeping bodies, their cheeks a rosy red with a sheen of sweat across their foreheads. Bobby and Owen knew right then and there that their day was about to get a lot more hectic than they had originally expected.

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @anewkindofme, @snowviolettwhite, @actualalligator, @thegoeticcleric, @phantomhiveroyaltea, @nottapossum, @autisticalastor, @otpcutie, @quintessenceofdust88, @moonlithaze, @pibsboots, and anyone else who wants to join!

#wanna know something ironic?#i got sick like two days after starting this #and still am lol #😩🤧💀#wip wednesday #tag game #evan buckley #tk strand #bobby nash #owen strand #9-1-1 #9-1-1: lone star #agere fandom #snippet #my wips

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everywishway · 1 year ago

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Headcanons for Junior Year

Cassandra still has Kalina as a familiar. I have two ideas for this

Number one is Kalina was hurting the whole time due to being a literal plague and she was also under the influence of the Nightmare King's power so she's better now. Still standoffish and a trickster but in more of a "tired, goth older sister" way

Number two is that she's a grouchy house cat and is stuck in this tiny body that has a love/hate relationship with the Bad Kids (especially Riz). Like one day she's wrapped around his neck till she claws his nose and runs off. She can't talk either so all that pent-up anger is in a tiny body

I just want more Riz and Kalina pls! They were so good together SY

Garthy Obrien and Aguefort have a nice, long "chat" behind closed doors… It ends up with the both of them deciding how they are going to Co-parent Ayda but Aguefort does end up with a scar in his abdomen.

Ayda substitute teaches a Magical Theory class Adaine and Fig have to take when the teacher leaves for maternity. Hijinx ensue.

Fabian and Aelwyn break up or have already broken up by the time JY starts (i love how most of the fandom doesn't like these two together, lol)

Kristen and Tracker go on break while Tracker is away and Kristen is suffering in silence while Tracker is partying and having a lot of fun (same vibes as Priya and Pete)

All of Fig's Dads (Jawbone, Gilear, and Gorthalax) go get drinks every other month, one-month Sandra-Lynn and Garthy come and drink them all under the table (Sandra-Lynn was banned after that. Garthy still occasionally comes around)

When those nights happen all of the Bad Kids have a giant sleepover and completely take over the first floor of Mordred Manor (Jawbone proceeding to play hopscotch around them to not wake up his spare children)

Nobody actually addresses the Night Yorb during Junior Year and if somebody does Brennan goes in his true New York accent "what Night Yorb?????"

Fabian and Zelda go to both dance classes and kickboxing together, becoming friends around the winter of Sophmore Year

Fabian and Sam do not get along well. Mostly due to the fact, they are both dramatic rich bitches who are fighting over Zelda but also over the fact Sam is mean to Gorgug and Fabian goes "only I am allowed to be a bitch with my friends? Fuck off, Nightingale."

Antiope and Riz shared some sort of stealth elective class and accidentally became good friends? Like, they both watch their gangs of idiots tiredly and corral them up and take them to get ice cream.

On the other hand, Kristen kinda dreads her religious studies course due to Ostentasia being loud and snarky but also kinda appreciates it? Like, you know those class clowns that get on your nerves but they state the obvious when everyone is done with the teacher's shit? Yeah, that's their relationship

She does chill with Yelle tho, like they both smoke weed then go to pet stores and animal shelters and play with animals until they pass out on the floor.

Penny and Adaine are both nerds and Penny is Adaine's tutor when it comes to the history of spells, who made them and why (because Adaine is a practical caster <3)

I have way too many ideas, some of them are on the bingo board :)

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mahiiimahiiii · 11 months ago

Text

Ok hear me out: once the crew gets to bauldurs gate they have mini funerals ala good place.

(part 1)

I'll give you a taster (+ my beautiful redeemed bhaalspawn):

Gale:

Gales "funeral" would be at a library. He would pile books together as a makeshift coffin and wear a bright pink night robe with fuzzy slippers and curlers in his hair, as well as a dusty pink eye mask. Everyone would be wearing some sort of robe, his flowers of choice for the event would be lilly of the valley.

"gale died doing what he loved, learning."

"some might say this would be the ultimate fate for gale"

He would interject, eating the cucumber on his eye, "I do not think the best outcome for me would be turning into an ilithid. But I must admit- it is fitting."

Later events would be a wine tasting and going shopping for new books.

Shadowheart:

I feel like hers would be a moonlight bonfire, lots of ring dancing and setting her old sharran armor on fire.

"I think-" karlach would start up "a lot of us would be dead if we didn't have our cleric. So shadowheart has earned her props.. not only is she reliable- she is resilient, she is strong."

"despite our quarrels, I am glad to fight with you. I have watched you bloom into a magnificent warrior, for what force? We will see soon enough. May your death be glorious." La'zel quipped.

Her flowers of choice would be night orchids. she would then insist on learning how to swim and manage a doggie paddle.

Karlach:

I feel like hers would be on the beach with a fruity drink in hand as she floats around in the water. The fish around her have probably boiled, which is more incentive for a fish fry.

Everyone gets like a back breaking hug. Lots of physical activities party games wise, be drunk and merry. Most likely people get a bit sunburnt and burnt burnt.

There is no speeches as Karlach is too busy expressing her gratitude about everyone else.

She gets withers to do limbo with her

Her choice of flower is sunflowers.

La'zel:

She would like to opt out of this. a simple "thank you la'zel, may you die horribly in battle. May your wounds bleed out and may you suffer immensely" will suffice.

(her choice of flower is snap dragons)

Jaheria:

Hers would be a touristy walk of bauldurs gate.

She talks about her life, a sense of oral history to pass onto others. The night ends with root veggies chips and cheese, and a generous donation to animal sanctuaries within the cities from the Harpers.

Her idea of fun is bastardizing the ballads that volo wrote via mad libs. Which immature humor ensues.

The mighty _____ o' noble _____ (noun *x2)

Found ___ and sent them back to ____ and ____ (noun, adj*x2)

She would rest in a fainting couch in a puddle of sun in the wildshape form of a big cat, tail swishing idily as people read off their bastardized poems.

Her choice of flowers are jasmine blooms.

Wyll:

His would be a picnic in the park, as people read their speeches to him in comfortable sun dresses and loose cotton clothing, he would hold a little bouquet of daisies resting on a soft gingham sheet with a crown of flowers.

He would insist of going to his favorite pastry shops in the city. Sweet wine, tarts and small cakes. A day of sweets to remember the sweetest person in the camp.

His whole funeral was about allowing everyone to experience the childhood he knew, which wasn't much, but was something he knew they needed.

The look of pure joy in everyone's faces was enough to sustain him for the rest of his days.

The goals were, teach karlach hopscotch, double dutch with Wynne, climb a tree with astarion, and show la'zel some human dances. The older people in the group were less inclined to indulge, taking the roll of the gossiping parents to the 20 something aged other members in the band.

The night ended with dances and fiddle music.

His choice of flowers are thistle blooms

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