#lydia's favourite things

[a-simple-spiders-oc-dump]

love procrastinating going to bed and then suddenly thinking about how I need to give at least one of my characters VERY strong opinions on different animal species RIGHT FUCKING NOW

[hansensgirl]

💸 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (2/3)

summary. | The mob boss has an alternate way you can pay off your debt.

pairing. | dark!mob boss!Ari Levinson x naive!fem!reader.

chapter warnings. | NON/DUBCON, dark themes, obsession, stalking, mob themes, manipulation, pet names, age gap, innocence kink, abuse of power, corruption kink, power imbalance, smoking (ari), debt, Daddy kink, control kink, rules, verbal contract, loss of employee, anxiety/fear, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~2k

author’s note. | series masterlist. here’s part two (finally)! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. any and all feedback (positive) is welcome. no beta, all mistakes are my own. taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

When you arrive at work the next day—stocking shelves at a grocery store—your boss regards you with far more contempt than before.

Your brows remain knitted as she approaches you, your uniforms matching, except she’s allowed to wear a sweater on top. You must suffer in the cold, with an aching back and sore arms and legs. She says your name to grab your full attention, which doesn’t take much, what with the boredom that drives you to death here.

“Why are you here?” Lydia asks. You’re confused. “…I work here?” you answer with a slight laugh to your tone, though you aren’t amused. You prefer to just do your job without a hitch.

“You don’t. And I don’t accept volunteers,” she nearly sneers, and you halt what you’re doing. She’s never been very nice, but this is another level. The cans of beans can wait. “What are you talking about, Lydia? Is this a joke?” you question, placing your hands on your hips.

“I fuckin’ wish. Your little mob boyfriend came around last night—said you quit,” she explains, and her words are bewildering. Once the absurdity blurs and the meaning hits you, you start to think. You rack your brain as to who would’ve done something like that.

Ari.

“Listen, I’ve already got a girl coming in later today. The job isn’t hard, s’not like I’m dying for you to stay,” Lydia sighs. Her words are harsh, but you expect nothing kind from the woman who is all too eager to fill her pockets.

“Go home. Don’t come back here,” your boss demands. You flinch from how she spits her words, watching as she walks off to harass one of your coworkers. Ex-coworkers.

You’re filled with ire as you pack your things up and say goodbye to people you’ve known for so long. As you walk home, you think about Lydia’s words. Why would Ari do something like that? You never hurt him—so why would he hurt you?

You start to worry about the grander things, too. You have no source of income anymore, just what you’ve saved. Soon, the bills will come in, and your rent will be due.

You near your home and spy a car parked outside. It’s fancy—an emulation of a vintage Impala. But it doesn’t belong in front of your dingy condominium. You know who owns it.

Some neighbours that loiter outside watch you. You’ve never been subject to their nosiness, and the feeling of scrutiny—the knowledge of judgement—is unwelcome. But that’s the least of your worries.

The mob leader is inside your home, and you have to confront him. What if Ari changed his mind about the deal? And he’s here to kill you? Your hands shake as you open the door, unable to prolong the confrontation. There is no upstairs—therefore, nowhere to run.

You swing the door open to find Ari sitting on your couch, watching the news on your television. He wears another one of his fancy suits—similar to the one from yesterday, but in a different colour. He sips something from one of your favourite mugs and sighs in relief afterwards.

You close the door behind you quietly. The locks click in place, and the sounds prompt Ari to look at you.

“Hey, hon,” he greets, giving you a charming smile. “H– Hi, Ari…” you respond, shrugging off your jacket and handing it on the lone hook. “You’ve got a nice home here,” Ari compliments, and you awkwardly press your lips together.

“Thanks,” you murmur, inching towards the kitchen. It isn’t much—the epitome of honest work. You take the compliment, though you’re unsure how you should feel. He lives in mansions bigger than you could possibly imagine. What’s so impressive about your small world?

The fact that he can turn it upside down—put a dent in it, shake it up, and it wouldn’t take much.

The television switches off, and the mob boss sighs. He stands up and saunters into the kitchen. You never realized how tall he is until now. You crane your head up to look at him, but the intensity of Ari’s gaze is too much to bear. You guide your gaze to the tiles.

“I needed to talk to you,” he starts, and you set the mug you had grabbed onto the countertop. Your thirst can wait. “Y– You have my number, right?” you ask, hoping your tone doesn’t come off as rude. Your voice is shaky with fear.

Ari grunts, eyes never once leaving your face. “You’re right. I do,” he agrees. You never gave it to him—he took it.

“But I prefer this. Being with you—talking to you, not texting,” Ari explains. You nod, briefly gazing at him before resuming your staring at the floor. Suddenly, a warm, large hand comes up to your chin and tilts your head up.

You’re forced to meet the older man’s gaze. For the first time, you note that his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue. There’s even a hint of green swirled into the oceans. “There are a few things we need to discuss. Important things,” Ari tells you.

“Like what?” you breathlessly ask. “Rules,” he says.

The thought of having rules isn’t as insulting as you want it to be. They would serve as guidelines—lifelines, little things you can hold onto for the next few months.

“C’mon, honey. Let’s go sit. I’m sure you’re tired after your long walk home,” Ari urges, guiding you to the living room with ease. You let him do whatever he wants—and that more than pleases the mob boss. But he doesn’t let you sit down.

First, Ari sits on the wingback chair you snagged from a yard sale at a decent price. Then, he pulls you onto his lap. You let out an ‘oomph!’ at the rudeness of his actions. He’s brazen and confident, everything you will never be, even in your lonesome times.

Ari lets out an exhale of relaxation, settling you on his thighs until both of you are comfortable. He holds you gently yet firmly, thumbs stroking your skin to get you to calm down.

“Doesn’t this feel nice? Right?” the older man asks, but you’re not sure how to respond. Your honesty is embarrassing, but your deceit will offend him. “I– It does,” you admit, much to your chagrin.

“Exactly—so why fight it? Why fight me?” Ari questions, and you shrug. You’ve never been good at confrontation. “I– I’m not. I’m just… confused. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even dated anyone!” you exclaim, though your voice is nothing more than a whisper.

Ari shushes you, one of his hands rubbing circles on your back so that you don’t get worked up. “Shh… It’s okay. Don’t worry,” he tells you, his tone gentle and full of patience—kindness, perhaps even love. The idea is baffling.

“All that purity is what makes you so precious,” he whispers in your ear, nose nuzzling the side of your head. He smells of cigarettes and expensive cologne. “And that’s exactly why I want you, sweetie. You’re… innocent. Perfect. All mine…”

You sigh shakily at his words. They have you flustered. No man has ever charmed you the way he has. “Th– Thank you…”

“I’m here for you, princess. Anything you need, you come to me. Got that?” he reassures, and you nod your head. You doubt you’ll ever ask Ari for anything—but you do have a question for him.

“C– Can I ask you something?” you wonder. The mob boss smiles and gives you the go. “Did you go to my job and tell them I quit?”

A few moments of silence pass. “Yes, and I wanted to tell you this before, but I had to take care of some other stuff,” he quickly explains, but his words are slow and calm. They’re not rushed or panicked.

“You always wake up early, so I didn’t have enough time to get here before you went to work,” Ari finishes, lips pressed into a line, showing just how disappointed he is in himself.

“I– I’m not upset about that,” you clarify, looking down at your hands. “Then what is it, sugar? Hm?” he presses.

The pet names make you feel so sweet in the mind, almost hazy. You’ve always dreamed of love like this—but you know what you and Ari have isn’t love. You’ve always been naive, but you’re a realist.

“What am I supposed to do? I need money to live, Ari,” you say almost incredulously. Ari’s smile grows like he’s holding back a secret that he’s been dying to tell you.

“I told you not to worry about these things, honey,” he chides. “I’ll take care of you—as long as you follow the rules,” Ari warns, but he remains kind. So far, in your eyes, the benefits are all too enticing.

Will the rules be the other shoe that’s been waiting to drop? No, impossible—Ari is too kind to be so cruel.

“What are the rules?” you ask him. “They’re pretty simple, nothing you need to worry your little head about,” Ari coos, making you feel much more relaxed.

“Firstly, you always have to look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he begins, spreading his thighs out just a bit as he settles further into the chair. You mindlessly nod before catching yourself and correcting your error.

You reluctantly make eye contact with Ari, which bears to be too much, so you settle for staring at the beauty marks littered across his face.

“Good girl,” he hums. The praise makes you feel warm on the inside—safe, even in the arms of the most dangerous man in the city.

“Secondly,” Ari resumes, eyes remaining locked with yours. You take the time to admire the little details on his face. The freckles and beauty spot, the grey hairs in his beard, and the battle scar on his forehead slightly covered by his long locks. “You don’t call me ‘Ari,’ baby. It’s ‘Daddy’ from now on.”

The question of why—and even a negotiation to have this rule only apply behind closed doors—fizzles on your tongue. Instead, you acquiesce.

“Yes… Daddy.”

Ari lets out a small growl at your words. You actually saying the word is much better than he ever imagined. The mob boss can feel blood rushing to his cock, but he wills himself to stay strong. Not yet—it’s too soon, he thinks to himself.

“Thirdly, honey,” he continues, voice laboured and a bit gruff. “You’re not allowed to tell me ‘no.’ Ever.”

Ari firmly lays down the third law, leaving no room for your freedom. You can feel your independence slipping away, but you reassure yourself. It’ll only be for a few months. Perhaps this is for your own good. Yes, that’s it.

“Okay…” you whisper under your breath. Ari ignores your slight mishap. He knows you’ll return to being his perfect girl in no time. He understands—ever the kind man.

“Lastly—and most importantly—is that you must always listen to me, no matter what,” he gently adds. Ari runs his hands up and down your back, soothing you from how he’s completely changed your world. “Got it all, baby?” the older man asks.

You hesitate before nodding. “Good girl,” Ari coos, and you can’t help but smile. He’s sweeter than you believed. “Now, I could make you sign a contract,” he sighs, his gentle face morphing into one that looks stressed, perhaps even disappointed. There is a pang in your heart.

“But I trust you. Don’t ruin that.”

A threat hangs in the air, but you’re too grateful to see it. Ari knows this all too well, and he can’t help but feel pride over how he managed to get you to fall into his lap. What would a girl like you ever do without a strong man like him by your side? Not much, that’s what.

“I won’t, Daddy. I promise,” you eventually break the silence, and you’re gifted with Ari’s knee-buckling smile.

[whomst-the-hell]

also someone make a compilation of all the times zac oyama has carried a no thoughts head empty facade until suddenly dropping it to make a huge connection bc off the top of my head i can think of the exact tone of voice with which he repeated “KVX?” in freshman year, the yes or no episode of gamechanger, and the “is this the same thing as with lydia barkrock” moment of junior year

gotta be one of my favourite genders fr

[edge-of-the-end]

possibly my favourite thing about the rotpl finale is getting confirmation that lydia already knew she was gay. cynthia was going through such a time, and we finally know that lydia was actively protecting herself and in control of the whole situation. the rehearsal kisses? she instigated that with the knowledge that it wasn’t two straight girls, because she clocked cynthia from the get-go and still offered to kiss her for the play, because it was no commitment. she couldn’t be abandoned because the play already had a strict deadline. when cynthia ran away after the pre-play kiss, and avoided her at the dance, she knew she’d gone too far, and that she’d have to pull away and not talk to cynthia so that she could maintain the boundaries that would protect her from heartbreak again. the whole situation gains a whole extra layer because while cynthia might not have had the words to express who she was, lydia did, and the words were deviant and invert and sick, so of course the poor girl, this seventeen (maybe sixteen?) year old girl knew that the world wasn’t safe for her. despite all this, cynthia pulled it back. everywhere lydia hid behind behind femininity and long hair and theatricality, cynthia stuck out like a sore thumb, short haired and feisty and so butch without even knowing what it was, that overtness represented that hope, that the bit of lydia that was hiding could be a little freer. the glances that we see when the teacher suggests more rehearsals can turn into the active looking for each other that we see in the finale because that’s where the balance is, and it shows lydia that cynthia will never deny her. she will see her in public, around her friends, and will say she loves her to nancy, and that is what lydia needs. she spends so much time acting as these characters that she is virtually never herself, and in the hall of mirrors, surrounded by her own reflection, she gets to see that being who she is, a young lesbian in love, might be worth it. that the girl in the mirror, kissing cynthia, can exist and be happy.

[kitchenisking]

July Fic Rec

(K)Not Tonight by Fizzysodapopp - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,965, sterek)

❗️HEED THE TAGS, my lovely people! They are there or a reason and I do not have the intention to make anyone feel uncomfortable reading this.

Stiles had the very clever idea to go to his favourite place while in heat and during a full moon on top of that, his brain clearly having melted into a useless puddle.

He had never picked up the scent of another person, werewolf or human, here after all, so why should he start to worry now? Until he did pick up another scent after all. Everything went downhill from there.

The bites that changed everything by eruwenvalaeess - (Rating: Explicit, sterek)

Stiles was bitten a few days ago and now he's feeling hot, too hot. Neither him nor Lydia know what to do, but she can think of one person who may know: Derek.

Learn Your Place by orphan_account - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,424, sterek)

A new student named Damon into town and tries to find his way into Stiles’ pants. Derek doesn’t like that.

Our Little Secret by lilmissdaydreamer - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,527, sterek)

The thing about Stiles and Derek’s relationship is that, while it’s still new and exciting, they’ve also been building up to this for a very long time. The two of them have been dancing around each other forever and honestly, the honeymoon phase is probably going to last at least triple the amount of time it took the two of them to pull their heads out of their asses. So they’ve taken to fucking just about any and everywhere as a way to “make up for lost time”. The only catch being: don’t get caught. 

Yet, Derek seems hellbent on getting them caught in the act.

Let It Burn Fast by RurouniHime - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 32,562, sterek)

“So.” Stiles rubs his thighs, snaps his fingers again restlessly and looks around. “Thoughts? Comments? Revisions you’d like to submit for consideration?”

Derek weighs it. “Stiles, are you asking me to have sex with you for the good of the pack?”

“I—yeah.” Stiles blinks a couple times, then smiles again. “Yeah, I guess I am. That is the thing that I am doing.” 

(or, the one where Stiles proposes no-strings-attached sex for Magical Reasons and Derek somewhat unwisely agrees.)

Finding His Home by OKDeanna - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,708, sterek)

Derek Hale was a lot of things, and none of them very good. Yet, the one thing he couldn't shake was the one thing he knew he shouldn't want. But when an unexpected late night call reveals Stiles Stilinski has been injured, he will stop at nothing to get to him. Even if it means opening himself up in ways he never has before...

Somewhere Between Then and Now by OKDeanna  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,008, sterek)

Derek finds himself in an unexpected position when Stiles turns up to confront him about his most recent lack of communication with the teen.

The Offer That Changed It All by OKDeanna - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 1,453, sterek)

Derek had known he was attracted to Stiles for a while, but it took someone else's interest in Stiles to make him realize just how much he wanted the teen for himself…

Is This Seat Taken? Only By My Delusions by SylvieW - (Rating: T, Words: 6,726, sterek)

An unknown werewolf and his mate move to Beacon Hills and the McCall pack isn’t sure what to expect from them. They discover that while Derek isn’t a problem, Stiles might be.

Beginnings I by sffan - (Rating: T, Words: 1,344, sterek)

Derek gets hurt protecting Stiles. Then there are feelings. And a kiss.

[sundrop-writes]

Hiii !! We were kinda talking about this earlier (I feel like a lot of my Teen Wolf asks are gonna start like this) and it got me thinking

What do you think are the preferred romantic pet names the main pack has? Both what they call their s/o and what they like to be called ?

(would be cool to know about Derek and Isaac too, but up to you !!)

This is such a great prompt omg

Requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN - please read my Rules before requesting!

What would the pack like to be called, and what would they call you as a romantic partner?

Included: Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Derek. (I didn't include Isaac because I am still getting a feel for his character... what do sad kicked puppy boys call their partner?? aside from Mommy)

Warnings: this is mostly fluff; there is some mild sexual references; I tried to keep the reader as gender neutral as possible; mentions of past Derek/Kate - I think that's it?

Stiles loves pet names in a relationship. He would be the king of calling his partner babe or baby - it would roll off his tongue so easily, every other moment, he would be calling you 'babe'.

"Babe, can you pass my phone?" "Babe, what you wanna do for lunch today?" "Baby, have you seen my keys?"

(This also goes to show how excited Stiles is to be in a relationship. He has so much affection for you and he loves you so much, and his brain is always so excited and vibrating with 'I love them! I love my partner so much! I have to let them know!' So it's nicknames and PDA all the time.)

Your name would almost never leave his lips - unless it was an ultra serious situation and you were in severe danger. Save that, it's babe or baby. (And sometimes the others mock how much he calls you this, but he doesn't care because it means he has a hot partner that he gets to hug and kiss and fuck, which is not something to mock in his opinion.)

What do you call him? You know that he likes being called 'baby' too - but you call him any nickname and he doesn't complain about it. Pookie is one of your favourites, and you call him by that a lot, but you do call him by his name a lot more often than he calls you by your name. The two of you are a very affectionate couple (which can be annoying to the people around you) and this includes lots of pet names.

Lydia is not always a huge fan of being called pet names - in the past, being called things like 'sweetheart', 'baby', or 'honey', have just been things men have called her to objectify her or condescend toward her, so she doesn't like you calling her those things. However, the first time you called her 'angel', it sparked something inside of her and she absolutely loved it. She loves it when you casually call her angel in conversation ("Can you help me with this translation, angel?") and she absolutely adores it when you call her 'my angel' - she loves the bit of possession in the words and how the nickname is sweet and shows how much you truly love her.

If she calls you by a pet name, it is something complimentary and demure. She often calls you 'darling' or 'lover', and slips in 'my love' in casual conversation all the time. If she is talking about you to other people, she will often add complimentary adjectives onto these nicknames. ("You guys wouldn't be talking about my precious darling Y/N, now would you?" "Yes, tonight I have a date with my sweet lover. Why is that any of your business?")

She loves letting people know how good you are, and getting possessive over you in her own way.

Allison isn't someone who naturally gravitates toward calling you pet names. She would call you by your real name at first in the relationship, until something particular happened that made her choose a special nickname for you.

It could be something like - you trying extra hard to win a teddy bear for her at a carnival and nearly dislocating your arm throwing tennis balls, and then she easily shows you up at the game in a minute. (Because her aim is so much better.) And you shyly admit to her that even if it's a cheap little teddy bear, you wanted to have a cute gift to give to her - you wanted to give her a nice memory. So from then on, she calls you Teddy or 'my sweet bear', or 'my teddy bear' - because she says that you're the best gift she could have. (And she does have the little brown teddy bear on her bed as one of her most prized possessions - but technically, she's the one who won it.)

You sometimes call her Alli, and you're the only one who's allowed to do so. (Anybody else who has tried it has gotten smacked.) You also sometimes call her honey, which she thinks is cute because it means she's the honey and you're 'the bear'. But the two of you use each other's real names more often than pet names, and you usually only use pet names in private, behind closed doors, as a private, intimate form of affection.

Derek would pretend to hate pet names. He would be so anti-pet names when the two of you first start dating. And when it comes to what he likes to be called, he really doesn't like nicknames or pet names. If you called him 'babe' or something along those lines when the two of you first start dating, his whole body would freeze up and he would glare at you, and he would either storm off or it would start and epic argument.

Because those kind of nicknames remind him way too much of his time with Kate. (Which obviously ended in disaster.) Kate called him every single pet name in the book as a way to convince him that she truly loved him and sweet talk her way into his heart, so hearing it from you just gives him terrible flashbacks, and when he explains this, you easily understand it, and never call him by any pet name ever again.

But also - he loves the sound of his name coming off your lips. He truly, deeply loves it when you call him Derek. Sometimes you call him 'Der' or 'Big D' (mostly as a joke), and he likes those nicknames because they are uniquely yours, only things that you get to call him, and it makes him feel special, owned by you, loved by you. But to him, there is no better feeling than hearing your voice say his name.

Especially when you're pinned under him and moaning his name loudly - that's when he likes it best. But he also loves it during soft moments, when you whisper it to him before kissing him goodnight, your voice sleepy and sweet. He loves knowing that you feel safe enough with him to fall asleep in his arms.

As far as what Derek calls you - he definitely doesn't so typical pet names. Still, he associates all the usual (babe, sweetie, honey) with Kate's faux affection, and he doesn't want to do that to you, so as well as simply calling you by your name, he gives you a very unique nickname that absolutely steals your heart.

Moonflower.

He doesn't fully understand why you love him, and he considers himself to be darkness, and he thinks that you are the most beautiful, sweet thing in his life, so he calls you his 'moonflower' because he thinks that you are the one pure thing that can grow and thrive in the darkness he inevitably brings. You are a flower that grows in the moonlight, rather than the sunlight. This becomes such a special nickname to for the two of you to the point where you draw a picture of a flower in the silhouette of the moon and he gets a tattoo of it on his ribs, showing how much you mean to him.

(He is down bad for you, that's for sure.)

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Middle of the Night Conversations (Lydia Deetz x Reader)

Synopsis: After the wedding that wasn't, Lydia finds you in the kitchen, unable to sleep.

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Praise kink if you squint real hard, mentions of toxic relationships

“You’re awake.”

You glanced up from your cold mug of tea. Perched on a stool in the kitchen, you’d been staring down into the mug in the darkened house. Everything had gone quiet a few hours ago, but left to your own devices you hadn’t been able to fall asleep. So you’d gotten up to make yourself some chamomile tea, your mother’s voice echoing in your mind from your childhood. The trouble was, you’d lost yourself in thought before you’d had even a sip of the calming drink.

Lydia stepped through the shadows, into the moonlight streaming through the window. Your thundering heart calmed, the regular level of anxiety returning just from seeing her. Something about being in the original ghost house was making you jumpy, especially after everything that had already happened.

“So are you,” you said.

“I’m always awake in the middle of the night,” she said.

“I know.”

You shared a small smile with her, her night time habits intimate to you. You’d been her assistant for a while now, hired by Rory when he decided she was a big enough star to not be bogged down with the minutiae of human life. When you’d been hired, you’d expected something more in line with your previous jobs. Demanding and egotistical, and yet what you’d been met with was a woman who seemed as unsure about your presence as you were. Rory, at least, had managed to fulfil your expectations, at times seemingly forgetting you weren’t his assistant.

Over many long hours and middle of the night conversations, it had become clear that both of you were more alike than different, letting you settle more comfortably in as her assistant. A slow friendship was built over insomnia filled nights. She’d call you to talk, or she’d keep you in the studio late. Sharing take out on the floor of her living room had become one of your favourite things to do, usually because Rory would be off schmoozing in fancy restaurants while she was left alone. You were her go to when she couldn’t sleep.

“Do you want me to make you some tea?” you asked, already rising to stool to put the kettle back on the stove. At the very least, you could do with actually drinking some of the tea yourself.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, unapologetically taking your stool.

“It’s quite literally my job,” you said.

You lit the stove and placed the kettle on the hob. Turning, you rested against the counter, leaning on it with your arms curled around your waist. She was looking down at her own hands, wringing together where they rested on the bench in front of her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked.

It had been slow going, getting her to open up to you. Over many hours, you’d wandered towards one another on shaky legs, both unsure of what the other would do in the face of vulnerability. And while she had such a presence about her when the lights were on and the cameras were rolling, it was so different from the anxious woman you’d come to know behind the scenes. The one who spoke to people who weren’t there and at times seemed as if she’d be engulfed with a greif you couldn’t place. The woman who curled into herself and grew quiet, staring into space.

But once the floodgates had opened, they hadn’t closed. You always wondered if it was because you wanted to listen to her talk about ghosts without demanding for anything more from her. Just an enthusiastic ear who liked the stories for what they were. You thought she liked talking without anyone pushing in with their opinion or listening in with judgement.

“I didn’t realise what it would be like seeing him again,” she said, “I thought I’d moved past it.”

“The ghost?” you asked.

“I can still feel him.” She shivered, “I know he’s not actually here but it’s like he’s watching me.”

“He’s fixated on you,” you said.

She looked up at you with those wide eyes that had grown familiar over the many days and hours and months you’d spent with her. You swallowed past the lump in your throat. You’d seen her when it had all grown too much but this was something different. It was like she was haunted. Ironic, given her job, and yet…

“Maybe he is,” you said, “you saw him before he was here, didn’t you?”

You could still remember the fear on her face during the taping. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to see again.

“What will it take for him to leave me alone?” she asked.

“Dying?” you suggested, “moving on like the Maitlands did?”

“He’ll just follow me then too,” she groaned.

“Maybe all you can do is ignore him and live your life the way you want to,” you said, “who cares if he’s watching? There’s only one way to bring him here and you’re not about to do that again. So don’t give him this power over you.”

The way she was looking at you was like you were too naive to understand properly. It made your skin itch in ways that had grown familiar to you. Hugging yourself tighter, you tried not to fidget under her scrutiny.

The kettle began to whistle and you jumped, having forgotten you were in the middle of making her a cup of chamomile tea. You turned away from her, pouring the boiling water into a clean mug for her. Her fingers were cold where they brushed against yours as you passed her the mug. You drew back again, pushing up onto the counter you’d been leaning against, bare feet swinging, not wanting to think about that touch.

“I’m not saying it will be easy, but do you want to be beholden to him for the rest of your life?” you asked, pouring your own cup.

“I want him to leave me alone,” she said.

“We could summon him. Demand he get out of your life and your head,” you said.

“NO!”

You offered her a small smile over the rim of your mug. She stared back at you, eyes wide, almost wild, cheeks flushing.

“Alright, then if you won’t summon him, what can you do?” you asked.

It took a moment before her shoulders slumped. Her hands curled around the mug in front of her, as if seeking out warmth she couldn’t generate herself. Taking a sip of your own tea, you waited for her to say it.

“Ignore him,” she said, so tired.

“There ya go,” you said, keeping your voice gentle.

“I can feel his presence,” she said, looking up at you, “he’s still here.”

“And you’re going to…?” you prompted him.

“Ignore him,” she replied.

“Good girl.”

She took a long drink from her mug, not quite meeting your eye. You followed suit, looking away to look out the window on the moonlight drenched night. Sometimes, when you were talking to her in the middle of the night, words slipped out that you wouldn’t say in the light of day. The thoughts in your brain didn’t go through the usual filter before they made it to your mouth. This was one of those times.

“Why are you awake?” she asked, breaking the silence you’d caused.

“It’s been a weird few days,” you said, still staring out the window.

You hadn’t expected her to bring you with her when her father died. You knew she didn’t have many people around her, Rory the only one that had been propping her up as far as you could tell, but you weren’t part of her family. There hadn’t been a reason for you to be there. It made no sense.

But she’d asked and you couldn’t say no to her.

“I suppose that’s one way to describe it,” she said.

“I guess I’m just processing,” you said, looking back at her.

She was watching you, a carefully neutral expression on her face. You shrugged, taking another sip of tea, not feeling the need to say more than that. It was obvious enough what you’d be processing.

“Did you believe me?” she asked, her eyes skittering away from you.

“About what?” you asked, but you thought you knew.

“About the ghosts,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t think you were lying, and I didn’t think you were hallucinating, so yeah. I believed you,” you said, “if I hadn’t I would have told you straight to your face.”

“Would you?” she asked.

“Just because Rory didn’t that doesn’t mean everyone he hired is awful. I would have told you and then accepted whatever decision you made about my future as your assistant. I wasn’t trying to make money off you. I just wanted to help you,” you said, “if you hadn’t wanted me around I would have been sad but I would have moved on without my life being ruined. It was about what you wanted and what would make you most comfortable.”

“Why didn’t I see it in him?” she asked.

“He lied. You saw what you needed to see to survive. It happens,” you said.

She looked sharply at you before her shoulders relaxed when she saw you watching her with an open expression.

“There’s nothing wrong with you for believing it when someone told you they loved you. That’s being human,” you said.

“I should have noticed it,” she said, rather than agreeing with you.

“Did you even like him?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Did you like him? Did you respect him? If the answer is no, then his opinion isn’t worth anything,” you said, “Astrid’s opinion matters. Your opinion matters. His doesn’t.”

She stared at you a moment. You shifted on the counter, fingers tightening on your cooling mug, looking away into the shadows of the house. You might always want her attention on you, but any time you got it, there was always a sense of self consciousness from you. Like you were worried about her seeing too much.

“Your opinion matters too.”

Your eyes found hers again. There was such an intense expression on her face, fierce in a way you only saw occasionally, usually when she was fighting for Astrid. You’d seen it plenty over the last few days. This was the first time you’d found it directed in your direction.

“You don’t have to say that to spare my feelings,” you said.

“I’m not.” Her voice had hardened.

She stood, the stool screeching against the kitchen floor. You winced, a shiver going down your spine. Her bare feet were silent as she approached you but still, it was like a tremor went through the building as she drew closer.

“I’m not saying it to make you feel better about yourself. I’m saying it because it’s true,” she said, “your opinion matters to me.”

“Well, that’s just… that’s… thank you,” you said, not having the words for what it meant to you.

“Did you like him?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Rory.” The eye roll was implied.

“He disrespected you. Of course I didn’t like him,” you said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, shaking her head.

“He dressed you up like a knock off Elvira when it’s clear that’s not how you want to present yourself,” you said, eyes gliding over her body before meeting her eyes, “he made everything about himself. Just look at how he acted the entire time he was here. It was all about him, and not you or Astrid or Delia when it was your father who died. He was sleazy and self serving, and you can do so much better than him.”

“Can I?” You hated the undercurrent of vulnerability in her question.

“Lydia.” You reached out, grasping her hands in both of yours, bridging the gap she’d first breached, “if you wanted the world you could have it. Whatever else happens, please believe that.”

Her fingers tangled with yours, tightening as she stepped closer. The silk of her pyjamas brushed your bare knees, sending electricity over your skin. Your breath caught and any words you might have had left died on your lips.

“Sometimes it feels like you are the only one I feel like my old self around,” she said, a whispered confession that rocketed through your body.

She came closer, her body now pressed against your legs, hands holding yours, dark eyes searching your face for something you’d gladly give her if she’d only ask. You held your breath, waiting to see what she would do.

“You’d give me the world if I asked for it, wouldn’t you?” she asked, whisper soft and broken open, wonder painting every syllable.

“I would,” you breathed out.

Her gaze slid over your face before slipping down to your lips. Your tongue darted out, dragging over them, watching as her eyes followed it. Her own tongue followed suit, an unconscious mirroring as she focused on you. Your knees fell open and you tugged on her hands, pulling her closer until she was nestled between your thighs.

“Lydia,” you groaned, almost pained, feeling as if you’d ended up in a dream.

“I don’t need the world,” she said, her fingers untangling from yours before resting her palms against your legs, “you can keep the world.”

“Okay,” you said.

“But I do need you,” she said.

You didn’t have an answer for her. You didn’t know how you’d gotten from talking about the demon that had been haunting her since a teenager to this but you didn’t want to ruin it. It felt fragile, a moment made from spun glass that could shatter if you mishandled it even slightly.

“Oh,” you finally managed to get out.

“I need you,” she said, her grip on your thighs tightening, almost painfully.

“Okay,” you said.

“I need you,” she said again, head tipping forward until her forehead came to rest against your chest.

You were hesitant as you curled your arms around her. She pressed closer, hands sliding from your legs to your hips to wrap her arms around your waist. You lent forward, pressing your face to the top of her head.

“You have me,” you whispered.

She drew back just far enough to look up into your face. Your lips parted and her eyes slipped down to them. You fell forward, sure she would draw back, but not able to stop yourself. The first brush of lips was so soft, tentative, as if waiting to be pushed away and told off. She made a small noise, practically a whimper.

Your hands cupped her cheeks, kissing her again and again and again, each time just a little deeper. You were trying to be so careful but then her teeth nipped at your lower lip and you groaned into her mouth. Her hands were pushing up your shirt, bare skin on bare skin, making you haul her even closer.

“Sorry,” you said, panting, when you drew back, reminding yourself that you’d both just gone through something intense and she’d just lost her fiancee and her father and her step mother in the last three days, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t,” she said.

She pushed up onto her toes, kissing you again. There was nothing you could do but kiss her back. You were so utterly smitten with her you’d do anything she asked.

“Don’t apologise,” she demanded, her lips still brushing yours, “not for this.”

“Are you…” You gently pushed her back, still caught between your legs but giving you the space to think again, “what are we doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted for a while now,” she said, “do you not…?”

“Lydia, I’ve been half in love with you since the moment I began working for you,” you said, “but is now really the time? You’ve just lost so many people. You can’t be thinking clearly.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m thinking,” she said, pushing away from you.

“Sorry,” you said again.

You pressed your knees together again, curling your arms around your waist, suddenly ice cold. You watched her pace the kitchen, that feeling of being in a dream shifting into a nightmare. You’d shattered the moment, shards of glass stuck in your skin.

“Do you think this is easy for me? That I go around doing this with everyone? That I trust people the way I trust you?” she asked, no, demanded, from you.

“Of course not,” you said, growing smaller.

“Then don’t tell me what I’m fucking thinking. I’m more me with you than I ever was with Rory. So don’t tell me I’m not thinking clearly right after telling me you have feelings for me,” she said.

“I just meant-“

“I know what you meant,” she snapped, “you were the one just telling me to live my life the way I want to and that I can do better and have the world. I don’t want the world. What I want is you.”

“You have me. You’ll always have me,” you said.

“Then why are we arguing about this?” she asked.

“Maybe because I’m worried this is all because of everything you’ve just gone through and in a few weeks you’ll realise this isn’t what you want and I’ll be left heartbroken,” you said, “maybe getting something I’ve wanted for so long is scary because I’m not sure I’ll survive if it’s taken from me. Maybe I’m scared.”

That seemed to give her pause for thought. Freezing, she stared at you with wide eyes. Admitting it, spilling out your feelings for her to see, was also scary. To be vulnerable would never sit comfortably to you.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” she said.

“It’s not you I’m scared of. You’re wonderful. But if I let myself have this, I’m giving you the means to seriously hurt me and it worries me because this is coming out of nowhere from my perspective,” you said, looking down at the fingers twisting together in your lap.

“It’s not coming from nowhere,” she said, stepping towards you again, looking grim, “it’s easy to pretend something is one thing when it’s actually something else because you think you have that thing in someone else.”

“What?”

She sighed, stepping forward until she was brushing against your knees again. Her hands hovered over yours before they landed, skin against skin, cool fingers almost icy against your warmth. You shivered but flipped your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers again, looking at the sight of them wound together.

“I could pretend my feelings for you were platonic because I thought I was in love with Rory. But I wasn’t. Not really. He never made me feel the way you did. Why do you think you were the one I always spoke to when I couldn’t sleep?” she said, her grip on you tightening, “you’re the person I feel safest with.”

“Oh,” you said, not sure what to say, putting those words into the context of everything else that you’d experienced with her.

“You understand what I’m saying, right?” she asked.

“I think so,” you replied.

“After everything we’ve just been through, I can’t lose you too,” she said.

You tugged on her hands, drawing her closer until you could trap her between your thighs, pinning her in place. Something in her seemed to relax as your fingertips brushed over the apple of her cheek.

“You won’t,” you said, “but I can’t lose you either.”

“You’ll never lose me,” she said.

Her lips landed on yours again, sighing into your mouth as she sunk into you. Her arms were back around your waist and your fingers were under her chin, tilting it upwards to kiss her like she was something precious, soft and sweet and lingering. Proof you were going to stay, that she meant something to you, that this was the first moment of many more.

Sleep was overrated and Lydia Deetz was worth being awake in the middle of the night for. Especially when she was kissing you like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. That you meant something to her. That you were more than just her assistant.

That you mattered to her.

[teashh]

So I just binged Maxton hall and as a certified opinionated person- I have opinions. First let me start off by saying; this series is reminiscent of 2000s elite school tv. And I'm here to eat that shit up. But what this show does better than those series is this:

Each character is multilayered. Who starts off as the alleged mean girl (Lydia) is smart, intelligent, calm and quiet and understands the nuances of the relationships around her. James is a huge red flag but his red flag is his possessiveness and aggression. He has been nothing but a sweetheart to the people he loves and cares for which makes it easy to sympathise with him.

It does the studious girl trope really well. It doesn't go the "I'm not like other girls" route. In fact, most students have been very supportive and uplifting of each other. The hate we see toward Ruby is class difference rather than a gendered one.

And our previous Ruby Bell is a likeable character. She is strong. Opinionated. Doesn't back down from a challenge. And she knows what she wants and she goes for it. Not once have her priorities taken a backseat when she finds love. Which is such a cool thing to see. I was so scared she'd be another Elena Gilbert- helpless, self absorbed and what not. But she's actually caring and has self respect. Which is mwah.

Then we have our very own loser of the year, James Beaufort. He's protective of his people. But he definitely has some red flags he needs to work on. But he acknowledges when he's wrong. And we like that because a lot of red flags in series don't. Plus he's such a simp for Ruby Bell and we love to see it. Bro isn't ashamed to transfer quails and catch them AND make his friends work as well if his lady needs it.

Lastly if I had a nickel for every strawberry blonde character named Lydia who seems like the mean girl but is sweet smart and caring and VERY VERY intelligent; I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. (I'm looking at you Lydia Martin)

My favourite new look is James Beaufort in love. Bro looks like a puppy and I'm here for it. We need more loser men honestly.

[thestrangesthell]

"Let's get married on your favourite holiday."

"Will you marry me on Halloween?"

"That's in two days!"

I re-watched Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (casually, this time) and ended up slowly descending down another theory stairwell.

Rory's pathetic proposal uncovers a previously-unknown (though unsurprising) fact about Lydia:

Halloween is her favourite holiday.

While this detail comes as a shock to absolutely no one, it triggered a brand-new headcanon to emergency land straight into my brain.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice could have been set at literally any time of year. The season has very little impact on the plot (with the exception of adding to the overall atmosphere and aesthetic). The main driving force is a few comedic gags with the Shrink Heads, Trick-or-Treaters and sets up the plot device for Astrid to fall head-first into Jeremy's trap.

Why does that matter?

Well, let's talk "psychic" connections.

Now, whether you believe Betelgeuse truly has a "psychic connection" with Lydia or not, it's fair to say the man is 100% spying on her.

Black and white motifs appear throughout the movie, insinuating a persistent presence of Betelgeuse. The first time we see this is during the Ghost House footage. A painting can be seen on the back wall and, in the night-vision camera, appears to be black and white stripes (or wiggles - if we're going to get really specific).

Again, we see black and white stripes on the man in the audience (whom Lydia "mistakes" for Betelgeuse) and later with the clown costume kid at Astrid's school.

Lydia also outrightly says:

"I feel this [his] presence."

There's not much more I can say here to convince you that Betelgeuse is an omni-present false protagonist.

The long and short of this point is that Betelgeuse is constantly checking up on Lydia. Whether it's to make her see him, sense him, miss him - it's all a part of his plan. The key thing is that he is able to do it.

Now, let's jump back to Rory's shit attempt at a proposal.

In this scene, Rory specifies Halloween is Lydia's favourite holiday. If we consider that fact that Betelgeuse is omni-present, he learns this too (although I'd place a lot of money on the fact he already knew and/or assumed this).

Now, let's jump in the line again, but this time, to the scene where Lydia summons Betelgeuse.

"I can't believe I'm doing this..."

After confirming that Lydia's daughter "is screwed," Betelgeuse bargains with Lydia for something in return in exchange for his help.

No where in this scene does Betelgeuse suggest or directly insinuate marriage. He simply asks for a way "to get away from her [Delores] permanently."

This could range from any number of things from Lydia's help putting a stop to Delores' plans to an outright exorcism.

It's Lydia who assumes that marriage is what he is after.

But look at him. He isn't going to complain. The man is delighted.

Anyway.

My point is that Betelgeuse must know that Lydia is engaged. Rather than make it awkward for her, he lets her make the call as to whether or not marriage is on the table.

Although I'm sure he also knows she's not exactly enthralled by the prospect of marrying Rory.

Now, let's cut to the wedding itself.

"If I don't do it now, I'm never gonna do it!"

I can't help but wonder, was Lydia talking about marriage in general, her marriage to Rory, or her marriage to Betelgeuse here.

(Side note: I headcanon that Lydia never got married. Not even to Richard. But that's a post for another day...)

After making make Rory make a fool of himself (say that three times fast), Betelgeuse sets the scene. He knows time isn't on their side, (yet still sings 90% of MacArthur Park like a lovesick idiot) and does some very specific things that round off my entire point:

He changes Lydia's original dress to something more of Lydia's taste. We know he was present while Lydia and Rory talked wedding plans in Charle's study, so we can assume he also saw what Rory ordered in from Soho.

He pulls out a lipsynch/floatation number à la Jump In The Line (which Lydia begs the Maitlands to do in the 1988 movie).

He gives her his literal heart.

And (most important to my point), he "crashes" Lydia and Rory's wedding to make sure it still takes place on her favourite holiday.

The wedding in Beetlejuice (1988) is as romantic as it is slow and steadily paced. That is to say, it's a complete shit show.

Betelgeuse is a manic mess of pleaseletmeoutintothelivingworldpleasepleaseplease and rushes everything in order to get his freedom. The idiot even forgets to have a ring at hand...or, ya know...finger.

Another sidenote: While I (personally) DO believe he has some type of strong feeling for Lydia in the first movie, he clearly wants his freedom more than a wife. He's been hurt by love before and literally snorts at the idea that he has to get married in order to get out "for good."

So...why is Halloween so important?

It's a day that's special and meaningful to Lydia.

And Betelgeuse is trying to make the wedding special and meaningful to her.

With a dress she would love, a song, floating in the air with her, calling her "one of the loves of my [his] life", taking it slow, throwing in a cheeky head spin to keep it strange and unusual - doing it all on Halloween.

He pulls out every single stop to make it as perfect as he possibly can.

Plus, if my headcanon that Lydia has never gotten married is true, the least Betelgeuse can do is embarrass Rory even further and make his attempt look even more pathetic.

So...yeah. Halloween was more than just a spooky setting. In my heart, anyway.

Happy Halloween 🎃

[allisluv]

dating spencer reid headcanons?

of course lovely! <3

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

spencer is constantly telling you useless (but interesting) facts, like how lydia is the 633rd most common name in the world! he's a barrel of information and he loves telling you random things throughout the day.

spencer's love language is quality time. he loves reading dates with you, watching movies (although he has to pause it every few seconds because theres something he just has to tell you), romantic baths and parallel play, where the two of you are in the same room but doing different things.

spencer probably tells you he loves you for the first time when he's just zoned out, thinking "you're so pretty, i love you," and the words just slip from his mouth. he is so flustered afterwards cause he worries he's screwed it up.

spencer is super protective over you. i think he just has that instinct to protect the people he loves, maybe that stems from his childhood, i don't know, but it's there regardless. he never does it in a way that insinuates you can't take care of yourself though and i think that's really important.

spencer makes you breakfast every morning. it's his favourite thing to do to show he's thinking of you and it starts your day off in a positive manner. win-win in his eyes!

spencer loves geeking out with you, whether it's over your favourite tv shows or movie or book series, he doesn't care. he loves seeing you so enthusiastic about something you love!

[a-simple-spiders-oc-dump]

as someone who's internet name has been gamma for years now, i would like to hear about who gamma is

OKAY, DOUBLE THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!! first thank you is for sending my first ever ask!! hell yeah!!! second thank you is because this got me to realize that pages don't show up on mobile, which means the summary page I spent a couple DAYS writing was completely inaccessible to most people using the site (thanks for being a functional website, Tumblr! lol). (and I guess I could give you a third thank you for asking about Gamma specifically because I love to ramble about this guy lmao)

Gamma's a Creation (basically a biological robot) who acts as bodyguard and personal assistant to Alice, the creator of the world in Universe 1. He's the one who collects souls for Alice's army as well as accidentally becomes one of the main character's (Lydia's) mentors, and has become a sort of secondary protagonist for Universe 1 as a whole. Gamma's pretty reserved and takes his responsibilities very seriously, even if they're self-imposed, doing his best to keep Alice safe as that is what he was literally made to do. Honestly, considering the circumstances, he's done a damn good job. He's fascinated by Earth, which, thanks to him spending his entire life in Alice's Realm, is functionally an alien planet to him, and he spends most of his free time researching aspects of it (usually human history and sociology) from books he and Alice have stolen from Earth. He tends to creep out the humans a bit, both with the whole soul-collecting thing (which most of the humans still hold a grudge against him for, which Gamma fully understands) and with him being an unknowing resident of the uncanny valley who's oftentimes secretive to a fault, but he genuinely cares about their well-being and does what he can to help improve their situation, usually working himself to the bone to do so. There's... a lot more going on with this guy, but honestly I could ramble about him for another three hours, and that's what the prompt fills are for! lmao

I've got a little more info about him right HERE! (along with info about all of the other characters in Universe 1)

[housesunstone]

Sandra Lynn is one of my favourite bad kid parents. Sandra Lynn also feels like she is the most real parent on so many levels. Sandra Lynn is complex and a lot like Fig tbh. We know that Sandra Lynn acts with her heart more often than not which is a trait that Fig clearly picked up on (I mean look at fig multiclassing this season).

But in knowing that and knowing about her past with her dropping out of school then returning to it, and with the stuff that went down with her former adventuring party it feels like Sandra Lynn is always running on the feeling of not being enough. And a mix of self sabotage and self doubt when things are going good and are good for her she runs and ‘ruins’ it out of the fear she will do it any ways. We know her and Gilear were a good couple and Sandra Lynn was happy with him at one point and when things get too comfortable after being hurt some people sabotage themselves. Hence the birth of Fig. And the Garthy thing (tho I can’t blame her Garthy is so good).

I think that same self doubt and self sabotage is the reason why her and figs relationship is so tense in season one. Figs horns coming in and how she is acting is a direct cause of Sandra Lynn’s fears of being not enough and turning into impulse. The way Fig treats her is also a huge fear of her failing yet again. As the season progresses we see Sandra Lynn and Fig repair their relationship and Fig and Sandra Lynn learn to respect each other a lot more.

This is also why I think her and Jawbone are one of the best NPC Parent relationships in Fantasy High. Both Jawbone and Sandra Lynn are both complex characters with complex and hard backstories. Jawbone says many times about what he used to do as a drug dealer and is healing from that and from those experiences he has he’s so relatable, and Sandra Lynn is trying to let her self be happy and know that she deserves it. Both have slip us but neither use it against each other and are very caring and loving towards each others growth.

Now for what prompted this is Sandra Lynn chugging a bottle of wine. She is such a relatable parent and one I wish I had. She knows she’s not the best parent, she knows she’s screwed up, and that she can be a bad mom at times but she is trying. She loves Fig with all her heart, and Fig may make choices but Sandra Lynn is going to show up for her daughter. She travelled with her teenage daughter and her 5 friends (plus Tracker and Ragh). She adopted Kristen, Adaine, Aelwyn and let them live with her and her new boyfriend. Plus Zayn, Ragh and Lydia.

Sandra Lynn may not be the chill and deeply loving Thistlesprings, or the put together Gukgak’s, or even the loving in their own way Seacaster’s. But Sandra Lynn would do anything for her daughter, and is such a realistic complex character it’s impossible not to have her as a fave.

[lydiamartinappreciation]

Lydia Martin Appreciation Week is coming back!

How to Participate

Simply create something about Lydia. Fic, art, gifsets, moodboards etc are all welcome. If you want your work reblogged, simply tag it #LydiaWeek2024 or tag @lydiamartinappreciation. If you write fic on ao3, you can add it to the Lydia Martin Week 2024 collection.

All works must be Lydia-centric and Lydia-positive. A further list of rules can be found here.

Prompts

NOTE: These are just a guide. You can produce visual work for the writing prompts and you can produce written work for the visual prompts. You can combine prompts. You can choose not to use the prompts. All of this is just for fun.

Writing Prompts

Day 1: Lydia & Pack

Pack is at the forefront of Teen Wolf so it's time to focus on how Lydia fits in or stands out. This could end up being really introspective or it could end up being light and fluffy. The choice is always yours.

Day 2: Lydia & Trauma

Teen Wolf can get dark at times and there's no exception for Lydia. Whether it's being manipulated by Peter in season 1 or reliving her grandma's death in season 5, Lydia certainly has a lot to keep her up at night. How does she handle it?

Day 3: What-If Wednesday

It's What-If Wednesday! Here for all your missing scene, fix-it and alternate universe needs.

Day 4: Pre or Post Canon

What are the parts of Lydia's life that we don't get to see on the show? How did she and some of the pack members like Scott or Stiles first meet? What does she do after graduation? The possibilities are endless and anything goes!

Day 5: Rarepair Friday

Today we're focusing on rarepairs. This could be romantic, platonic, familiar etc. Any kind of bond works. We simply want to celebrate the less appreciated dynamics (or potential dynamics) of the show.

Day 6: Lydia & Mentors

This could be interpreted as Lydia being mentored by another character or it could be interpreted as Lydia acting as a mentor for another character. It's totally up to you!

Day 7: Free Day

Do whatever you want - Just have fun!

Visual Prompts

Day 1: Lydia & Pack

Pack is at the forefront of Teen Wolf so it's time to focus on how Lydia fits in or stands out. This could end up being really introspective or it could end up being light and fluffy. The choice is always yours.

Day 2: Lydia & Seasons

Do we mean seasons of the show or seasons like Spring or Summer? Either! It's totally up to you.

Day 3: What-If Wednesday

It's What-If Wednesday! Here for all your missing scene, fix-it and alternate universe needs.

Day 4: Favourite Lines

What are your favourite things Lydia has ever said? Or, if you'd prefer, what are your favourite things other characters have ever said about Lydia?

Day 5: Rarepair Friday

Today we're focusing on rarepairs. This could be romantic, platonic, familiar etc. Any kind of bond works. We simply want to celebrate the less appreciated dynamics (or potential dynamics) of the show.

Day 6: Lydia & Colours

You could choose to focus on one colour or a selection. It's really up to you.

Day 7: Free Day

Do whatever you want - Just have fun!

Alternate Prompts

1 - Lydia & Emotions: How does Lydia express her emotions? What emotions does she hide? Anything works.

2 - Inspired by a Song: Inspiration can mean different things to different people so put on a playlist and let your creative juices flow

3 - Lydia & Hobbies: When she's not fighting off supernatural threats, how does Lydia like to spend her time?

4 - Lydia & Fights: This could be a physical fight, a mental battle, or Lydia using her banshee powers against an enemy. Or, again, anything else you can think of.

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - The Best of 2023

Happy New Year's Eve! Or New Year's Day, depending on where in the world you are right now. What a year it has been - for the sport and the fandom and for this blog right here.

I (Briony) started this blog in June, after a horrific bout of writer's block took away my writing skills. The only thing I love more than writing is reading, and so I decided to funnel my newly gained fandom time into cataloguing all of the wonderful things that I have read over the last few years, in the form of fic rec lists. My wonderful team of fic rec volunteers joined me at the end of October, and we have been collating the lists together ever since.

Thank you so much to everyone who follows, reblogs, likes, and comments on these lists, and an extra special thank you to everyone who shares that love with the writers themselves, in the form of comments, kudos, and bookmarks. You are amazing, and you make the fandom tick. Thank you.

Please find below the team's favourite fics of 2023! This is just like the FIA Gala, except slightly less glamorous and probably can't be used as a plot device in an F1 fanfiction.

These are the fics that really touched us - that stood out, and took our breaths away, and made us cry and laugh and curse. To these authors, and to everyone who has shared their talents with us this year - thank you.

Enjoy. And have a wonderful 2024. ❤️

Esteban/Pierre

nsfw: my thumb's on your teeth by @geluksalig | E | 14.7k @lydia-petze's favourite fic of 2023 Esteban experiences hyperrealistic dreams of a parallel life where he and Pierre have been together since they were teenagers, and neither of them race any more. He gradually becomes more and more disoriented by them as the twin realities begin to blur. This fic is so well done, with twin timelines wound together seamlessly. The grief for a life that never was, that might have been, is palpable. There are clues scattered throughout, however, that there may yet be time to fix things. Pierre's characterisation, as seen through Esteban's eyes, is wonderful - passionate and ferociously protective.

'Pierre presses his lips together, nodding though Esteban knows he is unconvinced, disbelieving. He looks off to the side, and Esteban gets that tense feeling in his gut, like he knows Pierre would claw a hole in his chest to tempt God close with the affliction, just so the rest of them might be sheltered in the shadow that falls just behind. He’s never been sure how to tell him that he doesn’t have to.'

Daniel/Max, Charles/Pierre

nsfw: hook, line, sinker by @chubbydino | M | 92k (wip) @wanderhobbit's favourite fic of 2023 Pierre wishes he could remember, Max wishes he could forget. What I enjoyed: maybe enjoyed isn’t the right word but his fic is heart wrenchingly beautiful. Following the story lines with the two couples and those story lines connecting is beautiful.

'"I love being married to you,” Max said quietly as he pulled on another curl. Daniel dropped his phone on his chest and tilted his head back to look at him. “Oh yeah?” Max’s whole body buckled at the gentleness in his tone. Daniel always knew when he was getting close to a breakdown, when fear and guilt and shame started building up like storm clouds in his head. He nodded. “Yeah. I love you.” Daniel gave him an upside-down smile. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, Max?”'

Charles/Max

nsfw: All The Lights (Couldn't Put Out The Dark) by @fabbyf1 | E | 7.5k @frickinsweet's favourite fic of 2023 Charles needs someone to help him calm down – when his usual partner is indisposed he asks Max instead. For me this fic was the definition of the "this better not awaken anything in me" meme, not so much for the particular kink but for the dynamics. I was relatively new to F1 rpf when I read this and the characterizations of both Max and Charles became the "canon" that I compared every fic to for a while. The Charles in this fic is very hard on himself, tying himself in to knots with anxiety and when he gathers up the courage to ask Max for help he is immediately in to it and never reacts negatively despite the unusal request. This is tagged as PWP (although if one reads the whole series, which I highly suggest, there is definitely plot) and the smut is very much brain meltingly hot but the reason I choose it as my favourite read of 2023 is for the way the characters and their dynamic is so perfectly described - especially Charles who is the POV and whose internal dialogue is a special treat in this fic.

'There was really only one other person he could turn to in these trying times. That’s how he ended up in Max’s room, asking him for a “favor.” “What kind of favor do you need?” Max asked, smiling so openly at him that it hurt Charles' head slightly. He was so quick to offer up his services when he didn’t even know what Charles was about to ask him'

my thoughts will echo your name by witchee_writer | M | 38.9k @blueballsracing's favourite fic of 2023 When Max retires, he decides his next accomplishment to win is Le Mans. His partners are no other than Charles Leclerc and Sebastian Vettel. I loved the cute little quips each character had and the tension! This made me smile and was an amazing rollercoaster of a fic. So much flirting and it's also a Red Bull Charles fic, which I love ❤️

'Sebastian's eyes zeroed in on Max, and then Charles. His grin widened (dangerous). 'Are you here to save me from two idiots with a decade worth of sexual tension?''

nsfw: you and me, we got big reputations by lady_something | E | 93.4k @maaxverstappen's favourite fic of 2023 After publicly coming out when Max won his 3rd championship, Charles and Max have to navigate the consequences of being together. It affects both the dynamic with their own teams and each other, and lends to issues with races in not-so-LGBT-friendly countries. I loved how realistic this was. The author really dove into the real life f1 consequences of a coming out and didn’t shy away from it. Charles and Max love each other so dearly and deeply but also love this sport just as much, and that makes for a great plot driven story. The other characters in this fic add a lot and it feels very found family. This fic had me thinking about it for days after and I was so sad to finish it as I could stay in the universe forever. One of my top fics in general, let alone for 2023! (also, this is for the rbr!charles fans (iykyk))

“So, if you are really, truly worried that we cannot handle it, then I will retire. You mean more to me than another Championship does. I have already done what I need to, I have paid back the debts I owe to my father and my family, and I have won some for me, too. It’s enough. I have the GT3 team, I have iRacing, I want to compete in the WEC. I do not need F1, not like I need you.” # “You—you—you—” Charles looks completely gobsmacked. “Oh my god. Mon Dieu. Max. Max.” Max barely manages to stop Charles from crushing the eggs as he surges forward, plastering his whole body against Max’s as he grabs his face and kisses him.

Charles/Pierre

A Two-Man Cult by @moonlight0starlighte | T | 23.7k @singsweetmelodies' favourite fic of 2023 Charles has always thought he's a beta, but then he suddenly presents as an omega after a night out with Pierre. The consequences for their friendship are devastating when Charles tries to keep this a secret from Pierre. Of course, Pierre finds out anyway, and the two of them have a massive fight - which ends in Charles going into withdrawal after what he perceived as a rejection from his alpha. This fic redefines "angst with a happy ending" - but it is so worthwhile when they finally do get to the happy ending. I love this fic for a variety of reasons, the fantastic angst-with-a-happy-ending slow-burn friends-to-lovers of it all being a big one of them. But more than that, I remember reading this one chapter-by-chapter as it came out, and being so unbelievably hooked, texting everyone about the next update. The writing style is just so engaging, and the story the author tells is so gripping, intense and wonderful. It will also always hold a special place in my heart, because it's the first proper a/b/o fic I read, and probably the fic that got me hooked on the genre. It truly is a masterpiece in so many ways. &lt;3

"What are you thinking?" Pierre's lids flutter closed and he sinks into the warmth of Charles' hands as he brings it to his cheek, lips pressed against warm skin as he answers, "I just can't believe I get to have this."

nsfw: chassis by @hourcat | E | 50.7k @welightitup's favourite fic of 2023 Charles is a part-time art professor/part-time kindergarten teacher with car issues. Pierre is a mechanic. It’s an amazing AU, one I don’t think that had been done before. But wow, it’s so hot too! Expect tension, teasing, flirting, and hot garage/car sex.

'Charles is special, anyway. It’s not even a question. He’s different from anyone Pierre has met in his ten years here, and Pierre really does like him more than he probably should, for someone he really doesn’t know at all. He teaches kindergarten and is passionate about it. He’s got a decent apartment, although he hasn’t seen much of it outside of the bedroom. He’s got shit taste in cars. But somehow, deeper, Pierre feels like he knows him.'

Carlos/Charles

nsfw: my blood is singing with your voice (the saints can't help me now) by @7msc | E | 13.2k @boxboxbrioche's favourite fic of 2023 Carlos meets Charles in a half-finished church. I have already rec'ed this one before, but I just had to share it again for the 2023 roundup. This story truly moved me. It is ethereal and lyrical and I still remember it so clearly, even though it's been months since I read it for the first time. Simply gorgeous.

'He felt like he was cheating. Was he? Well, a church was any place where he could feel God. And he felt God in Mallorca. In Costa dels Pins. In Son Servera. (In his mom’s loving hands. In Blanca’s kind brown eyes, the same shade as his. In Ana’s conniving smile. In his father’s heavy arm across his shoulders. In his grandma’s thin fingers, hands almost too delicate, wrapped around his.)'

[laurenairay]

Costume party - L. Draisaitl

Summary: finding the perfect couples costume was turning out to be harder than you thought.

The sixth of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! There’s no way Leon isn’t the most competitive about costumes.

Word Count: 631 words

Tagging: @fallinallincurls @starshine-hockey-girl @lam-ila @kurlyteuvo @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

One of your favourite times of the year was Halloween. It always had been, but ever since you started dating Leon, it was one of the highlights of your social calendar. The team party especially was always so much fun, mainly because of the costume competition.

Well, competition was a loose term. There were no prizes, no official judging, but it was a matter of pride among the team, and this meant you (and the rest of the WAGs) got swept along into it.

Leon was particularly competitive (who could’ve guessed), and as always he wanted to be the best. And look the best, naturally.

The two of you had spent weeks deciding on your couples costume. There were initially ideas of going as a big group costume with multiple other people, or in a small group costume with Connor and Lauren, but in the end it boiled down to the two of you doing things by yourselves, which was more than fine with you.

Leon had been particularly picky this year though, crossing off ideas from your list with ruthless abandon:

Mario and Princess Peach.

Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington

Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz

Barbie and Ken

Elizabeth Swan and Will Turner

Jessie and Woody

All of them were decent ideas, and you know the two of you could have easily pulled them off, but your boyfriend wanted something that he knew for certain no-one else on the team would do. Which is how you ended up with your final choice - Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. Leon’s sister had been ranting about having to watch Tangled on repeat thanks to her children, and the idea had struck a chord with Leon, and it hadn’t taken much to persuade you.

Leon had ordered a dark green tunic, billowing white shirt, loose brown pants, and mid-shin high brown boots from a professional costume maker. Apparently he’d used her in previous years through Etsy and now ordered directly. So naturally you’d put in your order with the same costume maker, ordering a pale lilac corset dress with beautiful ribbon detail as well as flower and vine stitching on the shoulder-puff sleeves and hem. On your own you’d found a realistic long blonde wig that you’d arranged for the maker to braid with flowers, as well as buying some lilac silk ballet pumps and a plastic saucepan to hang at your waist. It wasn’t too over the top, but you felt like you’d put in enough effort to get the compliments you deserved. The two of you were going to look amazing together, you knew that much. Especially as Leon had grown out his hair a little to give it that swoopy Disney effect.

“How do I look, liebling?”

You glanced over your shoulder, a wide smile instantly spreading across your face as you turned around to face him properly. Leon was leaning against the doorway all nonchalant, but you could tell his eyes were serious about your approval.

“Very dashing, Flynn. Or should I say Eugene?” you teased.

Leon just laughed, a note of relief sliding in, and he strode forward to peck a kiss to your lips, letting it linger as you tilted your head up.

“You look amazing, just so you know,” he murmured.

“I’d better. This wig and this corset dress took long enough to arrive,” you mused, fighting the heat that rose to your cheeks.

Leon took your hand, stepping backward just enough to spin you around under his arm, making you laugh as you twirled, lilac skirt flaring out perfectly.

“Amazing. Beautiful. Du siehst perfekt aus,” he said smoothly.

Charmer.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned.

“Good to know,” he grinned back, knowing full well what complimenting you in German resulted in.

“Shall we kick some costume party ass then, Flynn?”

“Absolutely, Rapunzel.”