#marry me challenge

[priceysalt]

Agatha’s con totally would have worked on me. it’s working on me as we speak

[kendyzzlewp]

Long Ass Break

art donaldson drabble

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

tags: fluff, domestic, married life, husband!art donaldson, tennisplayer!reader, tournament, coach!patrick

word count: 629

__________________________________________

Art was worried.

He watched as you ran off the court, your hand over your mouth as you tried for the life of you not to puke all over the clay court. Your opponent stood there frustrated, arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face.

Minutes passed and the murmuring of the crownd began to get louder due to your absence. Art looked around, his left hand scratching his head, a gold wedding band reflecting in the sun. No sign of you yet.

He was worried. He warned you about this happening, the pros and cons about playing in the tournament. You were stubborn, determined to power through because you’ve encountered worse. This was a piece of cake. Being your husband, he supported you but mostly, he just wanted to avoid your bad side.

Art glanced at the door you disappeared behind, his leg shaking in anticipation. You still hadn’t returned. The umpire was about to call the game. You were going to lose by default after being close to winning the whole goddamned tournament.

Fuck it, he thought and stood up to go through that fucking door. His heart racing as he pushed people from your team, muttering excuse me and thank you or whatever the fuck they needed to hear.

He reached the closed bathroom door, leaning closer to hear your retching as your stomach rebelled against you. His knuckles knocked on the bathroom door, as a courtesy and then pushed the door open.

Inside the bathroom, you were hunched over the toilet, clearly in distress. Art's heart clenched at the sight. He quickly kneeled down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back.

"Hey sweetheart," he said softly, trying to offer some comfort. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

You looked up, tears in your eyes, and managed to croak out, "You were right,” you admitted. “I need a break.”

Art's heart sank as he saw you so distressed and vulnerable. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his comforting embrace. You felt a little better, the nausea still lingered around your throat but the urge was gone.

“You need to rest,” he whispered into your hair, sound muffled. “It’s starting to take a toll on you.

You sighed, tired, sweaty and defeated. “I know. Just take me home.”

Patrick burst through the door, concern and disappointment etched all over his place. “What the fuck is going on? Why aren’t you playing?”

You rolled your eyes as Art helped you stand up on your shaky legs. “I need a break Pat,” you said, leaning on your husband for support. “I need a long ass break.”

“A break?” He asked, crossing his arms in disbelief. “When have you ever taken a break?”

“Fuck off, Patrick,” Art grumbled at his best friend, turned your coach. “She needs a fucking break.”

Patrick scoffed, the sound making Art’s grip tighten around you. “How long is this break supposed to be?”

“9 months.”

Patrick's eyes widened in shock as the weight of your words sank in. He looked from you to Art, realization dawned on him. You shifted uncomfortably, wanting to just go home and sleep for the rest of the year.

"You're pregnant?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and understanding.

You nodded, leaning more heavily on Art for support. "Yes, I am."

Patrick's expression softened, his initial frustration melting away as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I... I had no idea.”

“Now you do,” Art rolled his eyes, his own concern for you evident but the annoyance toward Patrick even more prominent. "I just need to take her home before she throws up all over you.”

Patrick stepped aside, offering you a supportive smile. "Congratulations, you fuckers. Take all the time you need. We'll handle the tournament."

[boag]

[backpackingspace]

Okay so with the line "the olive tree where we first met" we have two equal hilarious options.

When penelope was sassily like oh I'll marry you if you make a living bed out of this tree right here! Cue penelope stumbling over odysseus very very carefully digging up the tree "because how else is he going to get it to itacha we can't have a wedding bed out in the open in sparta duh"

Or

2. Penelope, knowing that Helen's suitors would soon be arriving to take over her home for a while. Snuck out and went on her own wacky shenanigan filled journey where she scoped out all the major players. Odysseus caught her spying in an olive tree. And when she got back she told Helen she had dibs on the cutie from itacha.

[t1red-twilight]

dim kitchen lights

summary: you can’t sleep, but neither can dean without you.

content/warnings: gn!reader, vague trauma, hurt/comfort, fluff, light angst, ptsd

notes: this is self indulgent, my life is exploding in my face

word count: 1.2k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you awoke with a start. a cold shiver ran up your spine. as quietly as possible, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and softly tip toed out of the bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen.

you hadn’t been sleeping well lately. every time you tried to relax, your shoulders couldn’t seem to be anything but rigid, and your jaw was nothing but tense. maybe it was just that time of year; the time of year, where you were reminded of everything you didn’t want to remember.

if you were lucky, you could maybe get three or four hours of sleep a night. the rest of the time you spent staring at the ceiling whilst tossing and turning, hoping, praying that sleep would manifest. as far as you were concerned, dean was unaware.

once you were in the kitchen, you turned on the light that was just over the sink. the light of the bulb wasn’t harsh, but cast the room in a warm glow. you reached for the cup that you had set aside earlier in the day, and retrieved yourself a glass of water.

you looked outside the window that was just the top the kitchen sink. the rain that had started earlier in the evening was still going, through and through. luckily enough for you, the rain had lulled you into a slumber.

the clock read 3:04 am. if your math was right, you had slept for about five hours. you looked down at your feet and the tile of the kitchen floor. slowly, you could feel the dread begin to surge through you. the relief was nice while it lasted.

the door to yours and dean’s room creaked open again. you heard his knees crack as he walked down the hallway and into the kitchen to join you. “bad joints,“ he always said. you just always joked that he was getting old. soon enough, dean was in the kitchen with you. the sleep was evident on his face and he squinted at the kitchen light.

“what are you doing up?” he asked. his voice had more gravel than usual. he walked over to you and grabbed the cup from your hand. he set it down in the counter, and his arms wrapped around you. you shrugged, and proceeded to lay your head on his chest. you could both feel and hear his heartbeat.

his palms spread across your back. one of his hands slid under the hem of your shirt and scratched your lower back. his nails were dull and short, but it was nonetheless a comforting motion.

you took a deep breath and sighed. all of your feelings came rushing back to you, and it made you feel like you were drowning in your own body. “i don’t know.” at least you were being honest, you really didn’t know.

dean leaned to kiss the crown of your head.“i know you’re not doing too hot lately, and that’s perfectly okay.“ his voice was low, almost a whisper. “normal, even.“

you shook your head against him. “I’m fine.” you tilted your head up slightly to try and give him a smile, but evidently it was not that convincing.

“are you sure about that?” it wasn’t accusatory, you thought he was more worried than anything. “i know you haven’t been sleeping well lately.” damn. you guessed you couldn’t really hide much from the person that you live with.

you opened and closed your mouth a few times before speaking. “not really. i don’t know, I just can’t seem to stop thinking.” he placed one of his hands (the one that wasn’t scratching your back) atop your jaw line, and gently urged your face upward. while there was still sleep in his eyes, you could see the worry that swirled there too.

his thumb drove back and forth against your cheekbone. your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. you attempted to make yourself present in the moment, and took in your surroundings. all that filled your senses was him. his warmth, his smell. “you can tell me when things are going wrong. you do know that i’m here for you, right? always.”

you nodded before responding verbally. “yeah, I know. but sometimes it’s just hard to talk about certain things.” he placed your head on his chest again, and you could feel him rest his cheek on the top of your head.

he kissed the top of your head again. “well, i’m always here for whatever you need.” you smiled, genuinely this time. you weren’t sure if he could see it from the angle you were in.

you stayed like that for a few seconds. or minutes, maybe, you weren’t really sure. dean’s body began to sway the two of you slightly. you interrupted the silence with a question for him, this time.

“wait, why are you up?” the crinkles around his green eyes scrunched as he smiled. he chuckled softly.

his tongue swiped his lower lip before he answered. “i couldn’t sleep without you. i woke up as soon as you left, i got a little cold.” as playful as the lilt in his voice was, you could tell that he was being genuine. you pulled your lip between your teeth to bite back the smile that was growing on your face. “what?”

you pulled him closer to you, overwhelmed with affection. “where did you get that line from? that was smooth, a little too smooth. even for you.”

his hand on your back returned to admitting the scratching motion that it had been administering previously. “huh? that was all me, scout’s honor. i swear to god, you’re like a little space heater.“ he paused, then continued. “also, i’m just used to you being around me. you’re like the constant that i never had.”

you snorted. “clingy,” you teased.

“what’s wrong with being clingy? if either one of us is clingy, it’s you.“ the somewhat uneasy air in the room had dissolved at this point. one thing about dean, was that he always knew how to make you feel better, to the t. you always hoped that you provided the same for him.

your hand lightly swatted against his chest. he grabbed that hand, and kissed the palm of it. “i don’t think it has to be a competition,” you started. “because if it was, we both know that you would lose,” you continued, your voice dropping in volume.

he made a noise of disagreement, but didn’t continue your jests. the comfortable silence filled the air of the kitchen again.

dean pulled away slightly to look into your eyes for another time. “let’s go to bed, yeah?” he murmured. suddenly, you could see the tired nature of his countenance appear again.

“mhm. that sounds good to me.” at this, the two of you walked down the hallway and back into your shared bedroom. the whole time, you didn’t let go of each other. to an onlooker, it might’ve looked awkward, but you didn’t care. he closed the door behind the two of you.

dean led you to the bed. even though the sheets were messy, he pulled them back even further for the ease of your access. when he too had joined the comfort of the fluffy duvet, he immediately reached for you. he pulled you close into him. what surprised you, was the coldness of his feet that he felt the need to brush against your calves.

you let out a sound of faux shock, but he simply giggled. “i don’t see a problem with this arrangement at all. let’s just go to bed.” the rain in combination with his presence was more than enough for you.

[hughschiers]

Yeah…

Elias Petterson is so attractive

Oh my god

[discombobulateddisco007]

Girls don't want money, girls want Robert Sean Leonard as James Wilson

[laurrelise]

i 100% understand and agree that the handler was a terrible person who was very creepy to five when he was physically a child and also raised lila solely with the intention of using her as a weapon….

…

…….

..…….….but…

i’m not letting any of you forget how this woman ate everyone the fuck up every single time she appeared

THE LONG BLONDE HAIR????

THE SHORT BROWN BOB????

i’m so gay

[nataliescatorccio]

AMITA SUMAN Photographed by Daniel Jackont For Schön! Magazine

[vakariaan]

ultimate ships challenge - [1/10] first kisses

[diyasgarden]

I think about that scene in the bathhouse where Patrick said that none of the girls he was with wanted to marry him. What if after all that, when his friendship with Art normal again (beasties back), he can find someone who will be with him no matter what and even wants to marry him? I'm sure of this happens, Patrick would tell Art about it on the phone and Art's reaction would be 'well, as it turns out, you're not just made for tennis'. Of course there could be a bunch of other scenarios about this, like Patrick mentioning that no one wanted to marry him and this girl being like 'dude, it's just because they knew they weren't as cool as me', just to cheer him up. Or something else. I'd like to know what you think about this?!??!?! 😇

“Would you marry me?” he murmurs shifting to look at where you're laying down beside him.

It takes a moment to even register the question. His voice is quiet and hesitant, and when you look over to him, you see the slight knit of concentration in his eyebrows.

He wasn't actually asking. Not a proposal, but a still a question.

“Yeah,” you murmur back, “I’d marry you.”

He makes a sound somewhat like a hum before whispering, “Thought you’d say no."

Once again a foreign vulnerability lingers in his voice. A tiredness that goes back too far to pinpoint. Something you should discuss, unpack before it comes back to swallow your relationship whole.

Instead you move your head to rest in the crook of his neck, and whisper "well then you're being stupid."

When he chuckles in response, you smile at how it vibrates against your cheek.

[abbys-universe]

just watched dead boy detectives and i need EVERYONE to know how much niko means to me

[dontforgetoctober3rd]

“Why do you find Aegon II attracti-“ BECAUSE TOM GLYNN CARNEY IS FUCKING PRETTY, BITCH!! TOM GLYNN CARNEY IS EXQUISITE HE IS GORGEOUS FUCK YOU

“Aemond killed a child and is about to go balls to the wall with the war crim-“ EWAN MITCHELL WITH A WIG LOOKS LIKE AN ETHEREAL ROCKSTAR HE LOOKS LIKE A LITERAL GOTH ANGEL SO I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT

“Daemon is so toxic and if you like him then you suppor-“ MATT SMITH IS HTTING IT OUT OF THE PARK AS MY BEAUTIFUL DERANGED TOXIC BOO THANG OK I DO NOT CARRRRRRRE

[starrystevie]

it's 2004 when steve finds himself back in hawkins for the first time since he moved away for good. he has a master's degree under his belt, a mortgage on a house outside of st. louis with a dog and picket fence, and a rockstar that wormed his way into his heart next to him in bed every night. he's closer to 50 than he is to 20 and life feels good, life feels settled, figured out in a way he never thought he'd get to see.

"you gonna tell me why you're shakin' like a leaf?"

but sitting across from wayne munson and his sharp gaze is enough to make him feel like a teenager again.

steve takes a sip from his glass of water before setting it down on the end table next to him and watches the way wayne's finger taps against the side of his coffee cup. it's like he's keeping rhythm with something that steve can't hear, like a drum beat in his head that proves that he's the reason eddie has musical talent.

"i'm fine," he responds back to wayne, a stilted smile crossing his face. wayne's gaze deepens like he he doesn't believe him. "i'm fine!"

there's a clock ticking somewhere in the living room and the faucet in the kitchen is dripping quietly and it makes the silence that falls between them even more deafening. steve takes in a deep breath and nods absently as he rubs his palms over his denim clad knees.

"is he in trouble?" wayne asks in a gruff voice, low and to the point. steve shakes his head immediately, stutters out something that sounds like no, and wayne looks at him with his eyebrows pinched together. "are you in trouble?"

"no, it's not-" steve stands up and paces out some of his nerves, hands shoved into his pockets so that he stops waving them around. he sighs and looks back at wayne. "it's nothing bad."

"if it ain't bad, then just say it."

steve groans and runs his hands through his hair. it's harder to do this than he thought it would be, quite possibly the hardest thing he's done in years and that's including having to admit to eddie that he does indeed like the stupid beard he grew as a dare from jeff. wayne is still staring at him with a determined look, like he won't let steve get away with any of his usual charming bullshit, and looks so much like eddie that it makes something in his heart explode.

"fine! i'm asking eddie to marry me and i need your permission or something. happy old man?" he finally says, or well, shouts. it's too loud in the quiet house and he can see wayne wince from the decibel he reaches but it's out. it's off his chest and he's finally said it.

and wayne is smiling.

seeing him smile is strange, not because he doesn't look good with a smile, but because it's not often that steve gets to bear witness to it. it starts off slow, clipped at the edges before it spreads to his cheeks and crinkles his eyes. steve's breathing hard when wayne stands up and wraps his hands around the tops of his shoulders. he can feel himself shaking under wayne's grip and from this close, he can see the tears that he knows wayne is fighting against.

"it's about damn time, boy. took you two long enough to pull your heads outta your backsides."

getting hugged by wayne is almost weirder than seeing him smile. it's short, to the point, with pats on backs and chuckles that break loose from steve's too tight chest. part of him wishes eddie were here to let him be a part of the moment, but it would ruin the surprise he's so carefully planned, so he revels in the rare time between just the two of them.

"had to wait for somewhere to allow it first, wayne," steve mutters as they pull apart and he feels hope unfurl somewhere within him when he says it.

"well, alright, i guess you're off that hook then. but y'know," wayne's sitting back down in his arm chair and steve does the same, matching grins plastered on their faces. "you don't need my permission. that boy is crazy over you and if you think you ain't a part of this family already, then you're crazier than he is."

steve looks around at the pictures on the shelf behind wayne's head. sees young eddie and wayne with arms around each other, sees a makeshift graduation picture, an out of focus one of the two of them outside their house in missouri, one of all three of them around the chritmas tree in '99 when they had wayne come down to see them, and he thinks, yeah. they're already a family. at least now it'll be paper official.

[catharticconsolation]

Bot Dump:

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Kerry Von Erich- accident- After Kerry loses his foot in an accident, it takes a while for him to get used to his new body. But he's tired of you acting as if he's all fragile and vulnerable, and he just wants the same affection that you gave him before.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Kerry Von Erich- always the bridesmaid, never the bride - At Kevin and Pam's wedding, Kerry can't help but imagine that it's you up there in that big white dress. He's going to make you a bride.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Kerry Von Erich- goodnight brother david- David's gone. David's dead. And no one knows what to do. What is there to do but grieve and hold one another?

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Carmen Berzatto- waitress- Carmen isn't going to lie, but he can't remember hiring you. You've been working as a waitress at The Bear since it opened, but he hasn't ever spoken to you. But everyone sings your praises, and he has to make a move.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Carmen Berzatto- stuck in the walk-in- Opening night couldn't go any worse. He's stuck in the walk-in with the restaurant's hostess, and he can't stop himself from freaking out. He just needs some comfort.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Art Donaldson- my perfect family- Art Donaldson has never had a proper family. Sure, he's had his grandmother, who loves you by the way, but he never had siblings. But now, he has a partner, and a toddler, and a newborn, week old baby. Oh, how lucky he is.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Art Donaldson- strip- Art's worse nightmare seems to come true: being sat in a strip club, surrounded by the Stanford tennis team, boys cheering him on as the most gorgeous stripper in the world comes to dance for him. But as he looks at you, he realises that he has to have you. And he just can't understand why, still, after months, you won't publicise your relationship. He's been trying his best to tell you: a job is just a job.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Spencer Reid- lunch- God, you are driving Spencer wild. He doesn't know what to do without you, even the slightest second away makes him want to flip. And he knows that he's being a pain, but he can't not stop bothering you.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Lip Gallagher- unadulterated loathing-Lip hates you, you hate him, but you have to tolerate one another for the sake of Ian, Lip's brother and your best friend. But Lip can't deny the fact that you're ridiculously hot, and it's only a matter of time before you act upon your enemies with benefits situation.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

note: all of the Von Erich bots are based off of the iron claw movie, and not the real life boys!!

[t1red-twilight]

knight in shining denim

content/warnings: gn!reader, protective!dean, gender neutral pet names are so hard, sexual harassment (brief), cursing

notes: you probably saw this coming

word count: 1.1k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you, dean, and sam had stopped for the night. there was a case a couple states over, and driving through the night would only resort in drowsiness.

luckily for dean, there was a bar a couple of buildings down from the motel. sam had decided to stay and research, and dean had decided to drag you along with him.

you weren’t much of a drinker and you definitely weren’t in the mood tonight; you all had to get up early tomorrow to continue the drive. and having any sort of hangover (however light it might be) would not be optimal for a long day of driving and loud rock music.

but for the time being, dean wanted a drink and he wanted his best doll to come with him.

the walk to the bar was short, and dean held your hand the whole way. (dean usually felt more comfortable when you were within arm’s reach, even more so when he was actually touching you.)

it had rained earlier, and the petrichor and earthy smells filled your nose. you could smell the musk of dean’s aftershave as well, the pine aroma had become one of your favorites the longer you knew him.

dean let go of your hand and held the door open for you when you arrived. vague country music filled the bar, and a few drunk bar attendees talked loudly.

your shoes stuck to the floor as you walked.

dean hovered closely behind you; his hand reached forward and lightly tugged on your fingers. you laced your fingers with his again. you both walked forward toward the bar.

the bartender didn’t immediately approach you when you sat. when dean scooted his stool closer to yours, the bartender finally approached. “what can i get for you today?”

you turned from dean and spoke to the bartender. “oh, i’ll just have a water.” dean gave his order after you.

the bartend quickly got you both your drinks, and you fell into an unimportant conversation. dean talked about some thoughts he had had about the case while he sipped his beer. his hand settled on your thigh and he stoked his thumb across your jeans.

before long, he had finished it and ordered a new one. “i’m gonna go take a piss.” he patted your thigh twice before waltzing over to the unisex bathroom in the corner of the bar.

you looked down into your glass of water. the rowdy country songs had been changed to something more mellow, likely because the bar would be closing soon. you’d have to tell dean that you should start leaving before the bar started to close. you heard someone sit next to you, and you turned thinking that it would be dean.

it was not, in fact, dean. some man with greasy hair and an uneven, unkempt beard had sat in dean’s seat. slightly taken aback, you almost had to double take. you opened your mouth to ask why he had sat next to you, but interrupted you before you could.

“hey there, pretty little thing.” he pushed up his glasses and continued. “what’s something as good looking as you doing all alone?”

you turned away from him and looked back down at your water. “i-um, i’m waiting for my boyfriend.” you pulled a tight-lipped smile.

“oh, don’t be like that,” he leaned in closer to you. boy did he smell like shit. “you’d be so fun, if you just let me try to-“ he grabbed your wrist and tried to pull you taut to him. you yanked your arm as far away from him as you could. desperately trying not to make a scene, you stood up and struggled to walk away from him.

you pulled another close-lipped smile, but he continued to pull you closer towards him. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he licked his lower lip, “i just need to fuck the bitch out of you, and i promise-“

“can you please let go of me?” you asked as quietly as you could.

you heard dean shout from across the bar. “hey!” his footsteps were more like stomps as his boots thunked towards you. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” his voice bellowed and could be heard over the low hum of the music and distant chatter. he quickly put himself in front of you, and pushed the greasy man off of you. at dean’s appearance he had already let go of your forearm and put his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“woah, man. chill out. i was just trying to-“

dean cut him off. “to what? i don’t want to fucking hear it, you asshole. get the fuck away from them before i beat the living-“ he stopped mid-sentence when you grabbed his hand. he turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, and when he saw the look on your face he decided it would be best to just leave.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty for his beers. once he slammed it on the bar, he gently tugged you towards the exit and ushered you out before him. the cold breeze brought you a sense of relief and cooled you down. you let out a breath you were unaware you were holding.

once you were a reasonable distance away from the bar you pulled dean to a stop. his eyebrows furrowed and his green eyes swirled with worry. “you know i’m okay, right, dean?” you reached out and held his other hand.

he looked away for a moment, and when you squeezed his hand he looked back at you. “yeah. i’m sorry i wasn’t there earlier.”

“that’s dumb. you were there just in time.” you drew circles on the back of his hands with your thumbs.

you lifted one of your hands to hold dean’s jawline as he responded. “i just- i’m sorry.”

you guided his face to be near yours.

“hey, it’s alright.” your thumb stroked his cheekbone. dean’s aftershave wafted through your senses.

dean inhaled deeply before responding to you. “no, it’s not. you shouldn’t have to deal with shit like that, and i’m sorry.” he paused. “the least i can do is be there for you when you need me, if you’ll have me.”

you pulled him the final few inches toward you and kissed him. his chapped lips cradled your soft ones, and he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. you pulled away from him, and he kissed the corner of your mouth very briefly. you slipped your hand under his shirt and scratched his back. “i know, dean. let’s go sleep. we have an early morning tomorrow.”