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signedsfs · 2 months ago

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I've got some great fuckin news

Once again got a bee in my bonnet to spend a night doing obscure fandom research to make a point, so. For all those people who keep making the annoying, "Tim keeps '''stealing'' other peoples' names" comments -- have a table.

Everyone with a check mark has used that codename at some point in DC's 80+ year continuity -- Elseworlds and alternate dimensions/timelines count, adaptations (movies, video games, cartoons, etc.) don't unless they've got comic book tie-ins, and neither do in-universe dream sequences/illusions/fantasies/other narrative elements that are objectively "not real" within the boundaries of the fiction.

A purple marker indicates an element that only applies in Elseworlds or alternate timelines. Yellow is for the originator of the legacy title. Star symbol is for borderline cases/extenuating circumstances/it's open to interpretation (with some further elaboration below).

The "other" column is just there to account for people who've held lesser or non-legacy titles, like Renegade, Wingman, Arkham Knight, Drake, Redbird, Talon, Deadman, Black Bat, Orphan and Catwoman.

Point being: the people who have actually gone through the most legacy titles in this family are Dick, Babs and Jason, tied with 5 each (again, not counting "other;" if we counted those separately Dick would've had by far the most). Tim is tied with Steph AND Helena Wayne, so unless you're whining about them "stealing other peoples' names" you're just wrong, and they're all only one higher than Damian, Carrie and Bruce.

This is a legacy family that passes their codenames up and down the inheritance line. It's what they do. It's not a legitimate criticism to level at one character and not the others. Please get over it.

EDIT: I realize after posting this that I missed some colors on the table, mostly with Babs' Elseworld only roles (Batwoman and Nightwing) but I'm too tired to go back and correct them; refer to the info below for more details.

---

Further elaboration on some of the lesser known/niche cases:

- Bruce uses the Robin ID in Superman & Batman: Generations

- In the second half of Thrillkiller ‘62, Babs cuts her hair and dons the Robin costume worn by her deceased partner Dick to get revenge on his killer; however the only name ever used for her in the series is Batgirl

- Cassandra was a member of the Robins orphan gang from Dark Knights of Steel.

- Duke was a member of the We Are Robins gang, as well as the aforementioned DKS orphan gang, and has appeared as Robin in a couple of Elseworlds, including I believe a White Knight spin-off.

- Cass was Batwoman in one of the versions of the Titans Tomorrow, as was Bette Kane, depending on changes to the timeline.

- Babs is Batwoman in the Batman ‘66 comics and in the 1980 story “The Secret Origin of Bruce (Superman) Wayne”

- Earth-3 Steph is Batwoman in Young Justice 2019.

- Helena Wayne is Batwoman in the possible future story Last Rites

- Tim is a member of the Batgirls vigilante/little league baseball team in the DC Bombshells universe, as is Cullen Row. Some call them the “Batboys” instead. I call those people cowards.

- Helena Bertinelli wore the costume that would later become Cass’s signature Batgirl look during No Man’s Land. However, she was more often referred to as “The Bat” and her Batgirl status is up to individual interpretation.

- Dick didn’t originate the Nightwing name, it started with Clark in the Silver Age.

- Steph has never been Nightwing. The panel where she appears in the costume is a Black Mercy illusion that happens only in her own mind. It’s a dream sequence.

- Barbara was Nightwing in the Smallville Season 11 comics.

- Terry was briefly Nightwing in volume 4 of Batman Beyond.

- Damian briefly became Nightwing after accidentally killing Dick in the Injustice series.

- Dick is Oracle in the “Eight Wonders of the World” version of Earth 2 (aka the Black Superman dimension)

#batrant #I don't have to rant just to drop a great fic link but....the original post #in this house we love....tables. we love graphs. we love data and facts and autism #anyway becoming a Tim Drake fan is the worst thing that's ever happened to me send help #how come when other characters get misinterpreted they get Benefits or at least Shallow But Positive Caricatures #but I get 'tim is boring he's just there he doesn't do anything'#'tim is just a sexist asshole he's not even that good' 'tim is so pathetic he has beef with a 9 year old for literally no reason'#'tim is incapable of doing anything ever' 'tim is just a tiny bruce (derogatory)' 'tim deserves Every Bad Thing actually'#'tim is overrated' (where???) 'I see him everywhere' (sHOW ME WHERE...I WANT TO LIVE THERE) 'they make him too perfect' (I DOUBT IT)#'they make everyone coddle him' (maybe he Deserves It after getting Decades of NO CODDLING AT ALL)#'he doesn't have a Thing' (bitch he IS the thing) 'he stole everything from Dick' (Dick also 'Stole' shit from Tim #Robins literally share so much shit across media that some people don't know there's more than one)#(...cannot believe I read with my own eyes that DICK was the first Robin with pants.....IN KINGDOM COME.)#side note: Tim started calling his shit Redname BEFORE Dick became Red Robin. so I've decided that shit was always meant to be his :)#side side note: DAMIAN GOT NAMED AFTER TIM'S FUCKING CAR BUT WHO'S TALKING ABOUT THAT???#people think Tim's a self-insert but he has.....traits that are. definitely not something you would give a normal blank self-insert #like even from his Intro...were most comic readers little stalker freaks that wanted to travel alone to a hero's civilian home???#little weirdos that wanted to watch their heroes with binoculars?? and break into their old apartment to look for clues and steal shit??#did readers want to be the first and only Explicitly Unwanted But 'Needed' Robin that Defined just how Bad everyone was doing??#did they beg to be parentified and made responsible for grownass adults' violent outbursts despite not being Trapped in the situation???#were readers inserting themselves on That???? Tim sometimes has relatable shit Happen To Him but his Reactions.....#he is not a blank self-insert. he is not there to have a good cathartic time. he's there to suffer and be a punching bag.#also...I know it's Fanon that Tim stalked them Nightly (a fanon I will Always engage with god bless) but like #he Did get Concerningly Clear Close-ups of a Fast-Paced Fight for his 'first time'. he Did have info that he couldn't get from the news.#he Did have a concerning amount of ease with crossing state lines alone to 'follow' Dick Grayson.#and he was sure fuckin quick on that shutter button for someone who had No interest in photography/Never Once stalked his heroes up close.#I don't necessarily think he got rescued by Jason or eavesdropped on a bunch of important events or anything but like...I just think.#he lived in Multiple Residences within Gotham. not in Bristol. he didn't have to bike anywhere to see them. I'm just fuckin saying.

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cripplecharacters · 5 months ago

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Write more Deaf characters!

[Large Text: Write more Deaf characters!]

When answering questions about deaf and hard of hearing characters, I have noticed they are overwhelmingly about:

A character who is deaf in one ear or hard of hearing because of an accident

A character who was born deaf and knows sign language, but seems to have 0 connection to the broader Deaf community

This is not the experience of most d/Deaf people! So, here's your primer to Deaf community and culture, and writing a Deaf character, because they are sorely underrepresented.

(Disclaimer: this post was written using viewpoints I, a singular Deaf person in the United States, have encountered. I tried to make this as general as possible to encompass many Deaf views, but it is possible that I have misconstrued something. Do not take this guide as the be-all and end-all of your knowledge on Deaf culture. Keep reading and researching the Deaf community, and explore viewpoints from many different Deaf people of all backgrounds.)

Why do you write Deaf with capital D?

[Large Text: Why do you write Deaf with capital D?]

The term "deaf" with the lowercase d means not being able to hear. The term "Deaf" with an uppercase D refers to the cultural identity formed by deaf people. This identity is difficult to explain but it includes knowing sign language and engaging with other Deaf people.

There are varying opinions within the Deaf community on who is allowed to call themselves culturally Deaf. Some Deaf believe that only those who were born into the Deaf community (whose family is Deaf, who attended a Deaf school, and/or who have sign language as a first language) are allowed to consider themselves culturally Deaf. On the 'flip' side, some Deaf believe that anyone with hearing loss can claim the label. And of course, you can find someone Deaf with any opinion in between.

This is all intracommunity nuance. If your character is born deaf and learns sign language at a young age or as a first language, they are likely culturally Deaf.

Sign Language Use

[Large Text: Sign Language Use]

Sign languages are the language of Deaf communities. (Note that there are many sign languages in different regions, and they are not related in the same way spoken languages are!)

Most sign languages did not originate alongside spoken language, either, so they usually have different grammar than the spoken language in a region. This means that someone whose first language is sign may have difficulty learning even the written version of the spoken language due to the different grammar and translation. For native signers, the spoken language of their area is their second language.

Sign languages are fully developed languages, with grammar and structure. Sign language is not "less" than spoken language, and encouraging sign language does not discourage speech. (Even if it did, that's not a bad thing! Sign languages are still a valid and rich communication form!) Sign languages have slang and expressions/idioms too.

Sign languages typically have a "manual alphabet" otherwise known as "fingerspelling". This is a way to represent words that don't have a sign. Fluent signers very rarely fingerspell; normally fingerspelling is for proper nouns which don't have a name sign.

Name signs are the last big point I want to cover about sign language. A name sign is a way to refer to someone so you don't have to spell their name every time. It's usually related to someone's attributes, like dimples or a specific way of moving. Sign names can only be given by Deaf people who are fluent in sign language.

Deaf Education

[Large Text: Deaf Education]

For a long time, deaf people were considered unable to learn, just because they couldn't hear. And since 1880, for about 100 years and even still today, the prevailing tradition in deaf education was/is oralism--a teaching method based on speech that rejects sign language.

Historically speaking, if deaf children were to receive an education, they would be sent to a Deaf residential school. These still exist, although there are also many Deaf schools that are typical day schools, just for d/Deaf/hoh students.

Deaf children may also attend "mainstream" schools; they might have sign language interpreters and other accessibility accommodations, or they may be forced to rely on lipreading and context, or placed in special education where their needs often still are not met.

Oralism still has lasting effects today. Deaf people have received, and still do receive, worse education than hearing people.

One common problem is language deprivation. Many deaf children grow up without access to sign language. About 90% of deaf people are born to hearing parents; even if hearing parents do send their deaf kids to a Deaf school, they may not learn sign language themselves, so the child must rely on what they can gather of spoken language at home. Sign language is even discouraged by some audiologists and speech professionals, because it "might interfere with speech". But by depriving deaf children of sign language, more often than not, they are being deprived of all language.

People who are born deaf do not learn spoken language naturally, even when provided with aids like hearing aids and cochlear implants. Many deaf kids who learn speech learn it through extensive speech therapy, and often have a "deaf accent" from copying mouth shapes but not being able to hear or process what sounds they are making, which may also include having an atypically pitched voice (e.g., very high-pitched). Lip-reading is inaccurate and the best lip-readers can only follow about 30% of a conversation, and that's by intently watching with no breaks.

It is possible to learn a language at any age. But it is easiest to pick up a new language when one is young. Children who do not learn a first language by around age 5--the age at which they would start school--have more difficulty learning any language, and may have frequent outbursts or trouble expressing emotions as a result of communication difficulties.

Another problem, especially within the Deaf community, is literacy. Spoken languages are often unrelated to the signed language of the same region. Learning to read and write, as a Deaf child, is like learning a whole new separate language, with different grammar and structure than their native language. This is why captions are not a perfect accessibility tool--it is, for many Deaf people, being offered an alternative in their second language, if they have learned to read and write at all.

Deaf Culture Norms

[Large Text: Deaf Culture Norms]

To hearing people, Deaf conversation can seem very blunt and to the point. This isn't to say Deaf people are inexpressive--quite the opposite: sign languages often use facial expressions as part of the grammar, and there is a lot of expression that can be incorporated into a sign--but there isn't a lot of "talking around" things. You can see part of this culture in name signs, which are usually based off a trait of the person. It's not offensive--it's just how they're recognized!

Another conception is of Deaf people being over expressive, but again, that is just part of sign language grammar. Face and body movements take the place of tone of voice, as well as other grammatical clarifications.

Deaf people talk a lot! It's very hard to end a conversation, because there will always be something else to say or a new person to meet. Hugging and other physical touch are really common greetings.

Tapping people on the shoulder to get their attention is fine. Other ways include flicking the lights or rattling a surface (for vibrations). Eye contact while signing is also important to make known that you are listening. Groups of Deaf people will sit in a circle so everyone can see everyone else. It's rude to talk in a Deaf space. If you are lost in the conversation, you'd ask if you can write or type instead.

Deaf Space also refers to design concepts that are more accessible to deaf people. This includes good lighting, minimal signing-height visual obstacles (e.g., low waist-height shelves), visual indicators instead of bells, open spaces so people can sit in a circle to talk, and automatic doors and wide hallways/passages so it is easier to continue a conversation while walking.

It's also very rude to comment on a Deaf person's voice. Do not mention you're surprised they can speak. Do not call their accent "cute" or "weird" or anything like that. Do not ask them to speak. Do not say their voice sounds really good ("for a deaf person") or that you wouldn't be able to tell they are deaf.

Deaf Views on Deafness

[Large Text: Deaf Views on Deafness]

The Deaf community is incredibly proud of their Deafness. You'll often hear the phrases "hearing loss = deaf gain" or "failing a hearing test" as "passing the deaf test". Continuing the Deaf community and culture is highly valued, and learning sign language is encouraged for everyone.

Many people in the Deaf community dislike cochlear implants as their success is incredibly variable and they require invasive surgery and therapies from a young age. Another big argument against CI is that they are often presented as the only or the first option to hearing parents, who misunderstand CI as a "cure" and then do not give their child access to sign language.

Deaf people also reject any sort of cure for deafness, especially genetic therapies. Many Deaf people do not think of their Deafness as a disability.

(Deaf people will often point out the advantages of Deaf culture and sign language, such as being able to talk over long distances, through windows, and even underwater.)

Most hard of hearing and some deaf people have hearing aids, although it is really an individual choice whether or not to wear them. Many d/Deaf/hoh people are overwhelmed and startled very easily by noise (since they're not used to that much auditory input) and get tinnitus from auditory overstimulation. They may also struggle with auditory processing--locating sounds, interpreting sounds, recognizing and interpreting speech, and other issues.

The Deaf community doesn't have any general complaints about hearing aids, just many prefer not to wear them. Do know that they are an imperfect aid; they just amplify sound, which doesn't improve processing or understanding, and it doesn't make people hearing. Not everyone even benefits from hearing aids--their specific hearing levels may make hearing aids a bad choice of aid.

A big point you'll hear in Deaf spaces is Deaf Can (and Deaf Power). Hearing people have historically treated deafness as a sign of incapability, but Deaf people can do everything hearing people can--except hear.

Myth Busting

[Large Text: Myth Busting]

Myth #1: All Deaf people are completely deaf. This is very far from the truth! Most deaf people have some degree of residual hearing, although this may require very loud sounds and/or at very specific pitches. Plus, there are many culturally Deaf people who are not deaf/hoh at all--CODAs, hearing children born to Deaf parents, are part of the Deaf community.

Myth #2: (Non-speaking) Deaf people do not make noise. Also very far from the truth! First off, Deaf people laugh. Many Deaf people also vocalize without knowing or intending, especially when excited. We can get very loud!

Myth #3: (Speaking) Deaf people talk loudly. While this can be true, often d/Deaf people talk more quietly than expected. This is because with severe to profound levels of deafness, no speaking volume is really going to be audible, so they will often rely on feeling vibrations in their throat to know if they're making noise. Vibrations are detectable at lower volumes than hearing people like to listen to.

Myth #4: Deaf people can't drive. I actually have no idea where this one came from but it's false. Deaf people can absolutely drive, and tend to have a lower rate of accidents and violations than hearing drivers. There is a common trend of treating d/Deaf people like they can't do things unrelated to hearing, but deafness on its own only affects hearing.

Deaf Struggles in the Hearing World

[Large Text: Deaf Struggles in the Hearing World]

A huge problem is just basic accessibility. Many places do not have captions or visual indicators, or rely on hearing (like drive-throughs). Movie open caption screenings are often at awkward times, and caption glasses are hard to find or access and awkward to wear.

Deaf people are also at increased risk of police violence. Police often treat signing as aggression, rather than attempts to communicate. When they yell, talk quickly, or shine a flashlight in Deaf people's faces, it's even harder to understand what is going on. Deaf people are also not often provided with a qualified interpreter and may not understand what is going on or why they were arrested.

Deaf people, specifically those who are mainly kept in the hearing world, have higher rates of drug use and addiction.

Hearing people also treat Deaf people as incapable or lesser. Gallaudet University had only hearing presidents until 1988 after the Deaf President Now protests; then-chair of the board at GU said in a statement that received heavy backlash from the students, "deaf people cannot function in the hearing world".

When writing your Deaf character:

[Large Text: When writing your Deaf Character:]

Were they born to hearing parents or to Deaf parents? (90% of deaf children are born to hearing parents.) Is anyone else in the family d/Deaf?

At what age was their deafness noticed? (It can be at birth, or it can take several years, even for children born deaf.) Is their hearing loss progressive? Is their hearing loss significantly different in each ear?

Were they eligible for cochlear implants? Did they get CI? Did they get hearing aids? (Consider cost as a factor: CI requires the surgery as well as intensive speech therapy; hearing aids are also expensive and can need replacement and refitting.) How well do the aids work for them? Do they have them in one or both ears?

What advice did their family receive from audiologists and speech therapists about sign language and communication, and did their family listen? Did they learn sign language? At what age? Did their parents and family learn sign language? Are they language-deprived? Did they go through speech therapy? What is their speech like? Do they like using their voice?

Did or do they attend Deaf school? Is it residential or day school? If it's residential, did they understand what was happening when they were dropped off? Does the school use sign language or rely on oralism? (Consider time period; most schools now use sign language, but from 1880-about 1980 the predominant method was oralism.)

If they don't attend a Deaf school, what accommodations are they receiving in mainstream setting? Are they in special education? Are they in a Deaf program at a mainstream school? Do they have an interpreter? How much do they understand what is going on in class?

How involved are they in Deaf community and culture? Are their friends and family involved and supportive of the Deaf community? Do they treat deafness like something to cure? Do their friends and family frequently ignore or "forget" that they are deaf?

In general, consider their scenario, what ableism they've faced, and what their Deaf identity is.

Happy writing, and please continue to send in your questions!

Mod Rock

#mod rock #writing guide #writing resources #deaf character #cultural deafness #sign language representation #long post

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incognit0slut · 1 year ago

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The Last Laugh

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.

warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it

...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...

"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."

The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?

According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?

"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."

"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"

Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."

"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"

"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."

She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"

"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."

"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"

Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."

She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."

Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."

"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."

"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."

Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."

Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."

She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.

Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.

"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."

Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."

That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?

Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.

She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.

"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.

A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"

"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"

Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."

Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"

Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."

She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.

Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.

"This must be hard for you," he commented.

"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.

"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."

Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"

Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"

She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"

She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.

She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.

"Should I help you jog your memory back?"

Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."

His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"

She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.

She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."

His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"

"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"

"We could share the bed."

She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"

"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."

He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."

Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."

She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"

"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.

"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.

Shit.

"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."

"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."

"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."

"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"

Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.

"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."

She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."

"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."

Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.

Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.

It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.

"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."

"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.

Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.

Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.

Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.

"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"

Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.

"Beg me."

She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.

"Beg me."

"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.

"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."

And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.

He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.

With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.

If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.

Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.

"W-What are you doing?"

There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.

"Taking matters into my own hands."

Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.

"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."

Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.

"But I can satisfy myself just fine."

And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.

With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."

Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.

He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.

She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.

He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.

"Spencer," she moaned.

That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.

"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."

A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.

When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.

It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.

"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.

But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.

"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."

He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"

Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.

And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.

"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.

"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."

He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.

He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."

Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.

Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.

Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.

The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.

She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.

She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.

But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm.

He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.

"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"

"Inside."

He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"

She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.

"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."

It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.

With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.

Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.

"Well that was—"

She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."

Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."

His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."

She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I feel sticky too."

"Spencer."

His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."

She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."

"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless.

"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.

Not that she was complaining.

a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed-out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

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elizaleclerc · 7 months ago

Text

intertwined, sewn together 🌊

lando norris x reader

summary: fem reader & lando share a sweet day w friends on a yacht <3

song: not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

author’s note: love this sm my heart ugh!! fluff & cute summer vibes. kinda grumpy x sunshine ; allusions to a bad childhood <\3

word count: 1.8k

You reclined on the plush deck of the yacht, basking in the warm rays of the sun as they caressed your stomach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil lingered in the air, leaving a sticky sheen on your skin. You relished these lazy days on the yacht, surrounded by your friends Lily and Carmen who chatted animatedly next to you.

Lost in the pages of your book, you barely registered their conversation as you lay with one elbow propped on the ground and the other hand holding the book, using it as a shield against the bright sun. However, your peaceful reading was interrupted by the rowdy boys behind you. Alex, George, Charles, and Lando were engaged in a game of cornhole, their shouts and cheers growing louder with each round. Their competitive banter blended with the sound of the cornhole sacks hitting the wooden board, making it difficult for you to concentrate on your book.

With a deep sigh of frustration, you carefully placed the book down and turned to your friend Lily, who was sitting next to you on the deck of the yacht. The sound of raucous laughter and shouting from the boys had grown increasingly louder, making it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation.

"Could they be any louder?" Carmen asked, her voice barely audible over the noise.

You nodded in agreement, “I know right, it’s like they are the only ones on the damn yacht.” You turned over, and, now laying on your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the boys play.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to Lando, his intense focus on the game evident in the way his brow furrowed and his arms swung the sandbag with ease. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he moved, his muscles flexing with each throw. His fingers ran through his messy summer curls, adding to his charming and carefree appearance. He was perfect in every way, and just knowing he was yours made your heart soar with happiness.

Lily and Carmen resumed their conversation, still reclining on their backs. You found yourself growing quiet, a natural state for you. Your introverted nature preferred observing to actively participating in conversations.

As a child, this led to struggles in making friends. Some labeled you as mean, but the truth was that you simply had little patience for most individuals. Your shyness was often viewed as a weakness and your silence as threatening, but slowly you emerged from your shell. Childhood experiences had left you with deep scars, ones that most people could never imagine. For a long time, you kept these memories buried deep within, trying to forget they were real. But then Lando came into your life, and he helped unravel all the pieces of you that had been hidden away. He didn't run away or judge you; instead, he loved every part of you as if you were made just for him. And because of him, you met others who saw and appreciated the real you as well.

That’s why you loved these people on the yacht. Not just Lando, who you’ve been dating for three years now, but even his friends and their girlfriends. They were lively at times, but they could be calm and relaxing too, having real and deep conversations. When you started dating Lando, they welcomed you with open arms, and the group quickly felt like a newfound family, one that you desperately needed.

Lando was sunshine personified. His deep, rich laugh was infectious, bringing out the same pure happiness in everyone around him, including you. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. And with his perfectly tanned skin and light brown hair, he looked as if he had been sent down from the Sun itself just for you to love and for him to love you back even more fiercely. His genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles made it feel like he could see right into your soul, and his persistent effort to get to know you only further solidified your growing feelings for him.

The two of you truly seemed like opposites, but everyone around you saw how much love was between you and Lando. As you watched him play cornhole, a small smile spread on your lips. It was inevitable, Lando seemed to just have that effect on you.

“Lando, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Charles shouted to him as he must have caught you staring. Your face flushed, even more so with the sun beating down. Lando caught your eye, shooting you a wink.

“Good, I’m on fire! Best game I’ve played yet.” Lando proudly proclaimed, which made you grin even more.

Carmen turned on her stomach now to watch along with you. “George, baby, how are you doing?” She asked him.

Lando was the one to respond though, “Oh, he’s playing like shit. You better take his place.” Everyone bursted out into laughs, everyone except George, who always got slightly offended at jokes made at his expense.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” George sighed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s play another game, I’ll beat you this time.”

“That’s what you said five games ago,” Alex laughed, which caused the guys to break into another fit of chuckles.

You were enjoying watching them play, but as the sun beat down on your skin and sweat began to form on your brow, you knew it was time to take a break. Walking over to the cooler, you grabbed a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut strawberries. The icy liquid provided instant relief as it cascaded down your throat, while the juicy sweetness of the strawberries left a refreshing aftertaste.

Feeling rejuvenated, you made your way to the edge of the yacht and settled into the welcoming shade. As you gazed out at the vast expanse of ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the boat and the gentle breeze caressing your skin were soothing in a way that only being on the ocean could provide.

Lost in your thoughts, you reached for your book and lost yourself in its pages. The sound of laughter and splashing from your friends faded into the background as you immersed yourself in the fictional world within. Time seemed to pass quickly as you turned one page after another, until you noticed the sky beginning to change color. A soft orange glow now painted the horizon, signaling that sunset was near.

You moved from your spot on the yacht and went back out to see what everyone else was doing. Lando was laying out on a large sunbed, clearly exhausted from his hours of playing cornhole. As you looked around, all of the boys were laying out too. You couldn’t find Carmen or Lily, but you assumed they were still trying to soak up the last bit of sun they could for the day.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Lando smiled as you approached him. You stood beside his sunbed as he kissed the top of your hand. “Where did you run off to?”

“I went to read for a bit. It was kinda distracting earlier when you and the guys were playing.” You explained. He motioned for you to cuddle up next to him on the bed. As you tucked yourself by his side, he smirked.

“Distracting because I was so good looking?” He bantered and you rolled your eyes.

“No, because you guys were being so loud.” You joked and he faked a frown. You smiled, “But you’re also very good looking.”

He tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, taking in every bit of you and the strawberry taste still on your lips. As you laid your head back on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it lazily. “I love you a lot you know”

You traced your fingers along his torso and grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Just making sure you don’t forget it.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath mingling with the soft breeze. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, you both sat on the sunbed, watching the stunning display of colors in the sky. The vibrant oranges and deep blues blended together like a masterpiece, filling you with a sense of awe and wonder. Despite all the pain and suffering in the world, moments like this reminded you of the beauty and magic that still existed. You could feel the warmth of the cooling sun on your skin, leaving a subtle tan as it slowly made its way towards the horizon. The peacefulness of the moment was enough to lull you into a blissful sleep.

Charles propped himself up on his cushioned chair, and saw you asleep on Lando’s chest. “She knocked out, huh?” He smiled at Lando.

“Yeah, guess so. The sun makes her tired sometimes.” Lando replied in a low voice to try and not to wake you up.

“You know, I never heard her say she loved you back earlier.” George remarked from the other side of Lando.

“She doesn’t have to, I know she does.” Lando replied, which confused the guys. He saw their perplexed expressions. “You know it took her a long time to say it in the first place but…I’ve known her long enough to where I know it without her having to say it.”

“I still don’t understand.” Alex piped up next to George.

“I mean, cmon, what’s so hard to understand? You saw the way she watched me earlier. Her eyes said it all. And the other day when she peeled oranges for me without me asking? And yesterday, when we got home, she rambled to me about the book she was reading. You could just see the light and love in her eyes. She never used to be that way, not when I first met her.” Lando knew the other guys still might not get the full picture, but he remembered how you were before you guys started dating. He remembered how you would shut out the world and not let anyone in. He knew that you used to not express how much you liked things or even smile when you ate your favorite foods.

He knew you loved him, he knew it went without saying. You were his everything, and simply being nestled next to him, feeling the gentle rhythm of your breath against his side, was enough to make his heart swell with love. No amount of conversation could match the pure joy of watching you smile or hearing the sweet melody of your voice. The two of you were intertwined, sewn together as the perfect pair.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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traegorn · 1 month ago

Note

Girl you can rant and rave all day but we all know for a fact you can't vote your way out of this mess so your "genuinely, what else can we do?" sounds like pure cucked defeatism. This downward spiral of American fascism has proven stable, so no, voting isn't going to stop it. The democrats will never be pushed left - as proven by blatant history. I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Voting isn't going to solve any of this, and no voting isn't going to "clear the way" or make it easier to resist. Democrats have proven over and over and over again they will use the full force of violence to stop anything that truly threatens them and the ONLY WAY to stop American fascism is to threaten them, to threaten the very foundations of the system itself.

You exert all this effort, have all this pained frustration, over the weakest political action you can take. You are not challenging fascism or tyranny or helping any of the people harmed under bipartisan violence. You ignore these people and focus on "harm reduction" for the few who do benefit from the pitiful social safety nets democrats eke out only to be undermined in the next four or eight years as republicans INEVITABLY take back power. Such is the case of a two party system, as history proves. You're staving off the inevitable by exerting all this energy into electoralism, and the people you "save" by electing democrats are inevitably hurt anyways when republicans INEVITABLY take back power - because that's what the system guarantees.

You exist in a cycle of abuse with the American government, a punishment-reward system under the 2 parties that keeps you afraid of punishment and too desperate for reward that you ignore how the hand that feeds you is also putting kids in cages and blowing up babies overseas. You, and everyone who thinks like you, will never be the ones to save anybody.

Idk I was pissed and now got all sad again after writing this. Just so you know my being sad at the state of your ideology isn't a representation of my passivity that people like you like to construe - I am painfully politically active. But it's just...sick. You're stuck in an abusive cult and now I just feel bad for you

I'm usually a lot nicer when I reply to folks, but you brought a certain energy that deserves a different response. I want to be clear to any passersby who I'd normally be polite to in this kind of conversation: This energy is reserved only for chucklefucks who bring this kind of shit to me. Please do not take this as a reflection as to how I'd treat people willing to engage honestly and civilly with me. This anon came to me unprovoked, so they're getting a rather unique response.

So here we go.

Oi, shit head. This was the stupidest thing I've read all day.

Democrats 100% have moved left in the last 40 years. Are we still recovering from when they got dragged right by Reagan in the 80s? Yes. But we've made headway getting things back on track. You claim a lot of stuff here, but don't cite a single example. Likely because you just repeat what someone else told you on TikTok that one time. You couldn't find your way through actual theory if it smacked you in the face with its dick. But you don't want me to actually justify it.

Because your own words told me you'd dismiss any evidence I provided:

I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Bitch, this shit is a sliding scale. Trump authorized more drone strikes than Obama did in eight years. Are they bad? Yes. But if you're telling me you want more murders, Trump's your guy. Guess what, living in America means dealing with the fact that you've been complicit in genocide this whole time. Look at the land you stand on -- it is soaked in blood. Look at the smart phone you're reading this on, it literally came out of a genocide.

You bathe in blood every day, fucking figure it out.

We do our best to minimize harm. And if you'd ACTUALLY read or watched anything I've said, your two half dead braincells would have noticed the part where I constantly say "voting is not the end of your activism." It's the fucking start.

Either Harris or Trump will be the next President. Trump will be worse. If you aren't doing everything you can to stop him, you're not a leftist, you're a grandstanding piece of shit who doesn't care about anything other than the smell of your own farts.

You want to fuck up the two parties? Great. Put in the fucking work -- because the Presidential election ain't it, shithead. Build a real movement from the ground up. Build community, build a party system, run local candidates. When's the last time your ass went to a city council meeting or a school board meeting? Do you even know when they're held where you live?

But let's face it, you couldn't coalition build if you tried because you're so far up your own ass you kiss your small intestine goodnight.

Daddy Revolution ain't coming, shithead. There's work to do, so get your head out of your ass and do it.

You want Trump to win? Netanyahu would kiss you on the lips for it. Fuck off.

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sematarygirls · 30 days ago

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🍼 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe thinks academic!reader wants a baby

Rafe was absolutely certain that you were trying to subtly hint at wanting to have a baby with him. At the first comment, he assumed you were ovulating because you always did get a little bit of baby fever when you were, but then, you just kept showering him with random facts about the development of infants and toddlers to the point that he started to believe you were dropping hints.

Rafe wasn't someone who liked to play games. He preferred to be told things straight up, no beating around the bush, but being with you, he'd noticed that you had a habit of trying to subtly slide what you wanted into conversation, so you didn't have to directly ask. Almost like you were trying to make him think it was his idea, not yours—apparently, those psychology classes were really paying off.

It had gotten to the point where he had confided in Topper and Kelce, asking them if that's how it sounded to them—bad idea, Topper and Kelce are the last people to go to for relationship advice—to which they both agreed that it definitely sounded as though you were trying to suggest Rafe should get you pregnant.

The idea was completely out of the blue. You both were still so young, and you were still in school trying to get your degree in psychology. You two had only been dating for a couple of months and had never discussed marriage or engagement because it all felt so new to both of you. After all, Rafe was still reforming from his playboy ways and party lifestyle, and you hadn't been in many relationships prior to being with him.

He had originally decided to try his best to ignore your little comments, hoping you would eventually drop the subject altogether. Rafe had never really thought about kids, and he definitely didn't think he was dad material, his fear of turning out like his own father overshadowing the desire deep down to have a child—one he often pushed aside and tried to ignore.

But, you hadn't given up. If anything, it seemed like your mentions of children became more and more frequent—whether that was true or he just believed it was because he was hard-core stressing about it remained unclear. Eventually, Rafe decided he had to address it and make sure you knew that he wasn't planning on having kids with you antime soon, even if it seemed a little harsh to say considering how enthusiastic you seemed.

"Did you know after about a year, the pace at which children learn words accelerates rapidly, and by eighteen months, the average child is learning a new word every day?" You tore your gaze away from your phone screen to look over at him, a bright, proud smile on your face. You were sat in the passenger seat of his truck after he picked you up from your classes, intending to bring you back to Tannyhill, so you two could hang out.

"Okay, you've really gotta cut that shit out," Rafe said, a lot harsher than he intended to. He had already had a bad day, and he just wanted to relax with his girlfriend, not try to decode you and your baby talk. He was tired of dancing around the issue, and his stress only brought that out, making him snap at you.

Your brows furrowed, smile faltering at his words. He had never spoken to you like that before, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why a little fact of all things had elicited such a reaction. He usually loved hearing all about your little facts, constantly telling you how sexy your intellect was to him. "What?" You simply asked, too hurt and confused to vocalize why his outburst seemed so completely out of the blue.

"Listen I," he took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening for a moment before he relaxed again. "I don't want to have a baby with you," he said bluntly. Noticing how cruel that may have sounded, he decided to add an: "Atleast... not right now, alright?"

Your face was a mask of pure confusion. You weren't so much hurt anymore as utterly lost. Where did the topic of you two having children come from? "Rafe, what are you talking about?" You asked, not understanding where he could have possibly got the idea that you wanted to have a baby with him.

He glanced over at you, his own features morphing into an expression that mirrored yours. "All the baby facts and shit. I thought," he paused, wondering if he had read the situation all wrong, but that didn't make sense. It had been pretty fucking apparent to him, Topper, and Kelce that you were dropping baby hints. "I thought you were... yknow trying to tell me something."

You processed the new information for a moment before bursting into laughter to which Rafe glanced rapidly between you and the road, his brows only furrowing farther as he watched you laugh as if he'd said the most hilarious thing conceivable. "Oh, baby," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder when your fit of hysterics finally died down. "No, I definitely was not hinting at anything. I am so swamped with school and work that I barely have time for you, let alone a child."

"What?" Rafe asked, relief flooding through him at your confirmation that you weren't trying to subconsciously trick him into wanting a baby with you through your little psychology tricks. Simultaneously, he felt extremely dumbfounded as to your motivations. "Then why have you been talking about kids so much recently?" He quirked an eyebrow, pulling into the driveway of his family's estate.

"Because we're covering the development and learning unit in my psych course, which obviously focuses a lot on the earlier stages of life aka infancy and childhood," you explained, watching realization dawn on him like a light bulb turning on in a dark, empty room. "I didn't think I had to spell that out for you since i'm always hitting you with random facts from class."

Rafe parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "Okay, so just to be crystal clear, you weren't trying to use fuckin'...i dont know- subliminal messaging and weird psychobabble voodoo to like, make me want to get you pregnant?"

You laughed, unbuckling your own seatbelt, so you could face him too. "No, you idiot. You're so ridiculous," you grinned, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. "I promise you I don't want children right now, and if that ever changes, I will talk to you about it and not use subliminal messaging or weird psychobabble voodo."

"Okay, good," he nodded, opening his car door. "Topper and Kelce swore that you were trying to play some kind of mind game."

"Why would you listen to Topper and Kelce of all people?" You asked, following suit in getting out of the car, your brows furrowing as he mentioned the two people who have yet to hold a stable, healthy relationship for any period of time. "They're the world's biggest idiots."

"Yeah, you're right," he grinned, walking over to you and slinging his arm around your shoulder as you two walked to the front door. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he murmured. pressing a kiss to your temple.

"It's okay," you reassured him, sliding your hand onto his back and rubbing soft, soothing circles. "Just promise you'll talk to me next time instead of letting it build up and fester until you get to the point where you feel like snapping."

"I promise," he vowed, ushering you into the house. "Now let me show you—my beautiful, intelligent, and amazing girlfriend—how sorry I really am," he gave your ass a little tap, making his intentions clear as he steered you toward the staircase, your giggles echoing through the empty house.

tags .ᐟ @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind

#🎀#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 📖 sol writes .ᐟ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #boyfriend!rafe #boyfriend!rafe x academic!reader #rafe cameron x academic!reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff #fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #outer banks #outer banks fluff #outer banks blurb #obx #obx fluff #obx blurb

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filurig · 29 days ago

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a new little spingle... info about him under the cut

a disciple of glaris in sartrill's priesthood, despite his holy position - isn't too enthusiastic about it. truthfully, he was forced into his current study by his parents as he was born as a "curlwing". "curlwings" in sartrillan culture are considered the closest to "true" children of glaris, having been born with her "blessing" of flightlessness and therefore are believed to be more strongly attuned to her, so the natural course for any young curlwing is to enter priesthood training at an early age. despite that, however, karu never excelled in his priestly studies - not that he was necessarily bad or couldn't carry out the duties he were assigned, but his superiors keep worrying that he doesn't put enough heart in it, so he has never really risen considerably in the ranks of the priesthood.

somewhat lethargic, karu accepted his "fate" - while he has faith, he also longs for being able to have his own life as life in the priesthood is relatively restricted to the holy grounds and the districts in sartill closest to it. there is a small, adventurous spirit inside of him that wishes to see more of the world, having never left sartrill in his entire life, but at this point he's sort of given up on it. he is somewhat ruled over by his fear of sticking out and not conforming and betraying the expectations of the priesthood, his family and Glaris herself.

karu can come off as quite cold and tired as he feels sort of detached from the people and circumstances around him. when brought out of his shell, however, he brightens up considerably - but can be a bit cynical still. he isn't actually as serious as he comes across as, and actually enjoys being around people who don't take things too seriously either. he tries to self-correct though and therefore that part of him is rarely seen by anyone. because of his alienation from other harpies, partly due to his upbringing and role, he's a bit socially inept, but has learned to deal with that by hiding behind his stoic and unconcerned facade. a bit of a double edged sword because it only reinforces the idea people have of him around him as this "serious, no-fun wholly dedicated priest disciple who doesn't want to mingle with the commoners"

while he wishes he had more freedom to do stuff, karu does enjoy some parts of his priestly duties - most especially the craftsmanship he gets to engage in. sartrillan priests will actually be responsible for most of the settlement's craftsmanship especially ones concerning fabric and clothing, but also other crafts (former are just the biggest categories)

flightlessness is relevant in some satrtillan mythology and in the biggest story (the one involving glaris) is a noteworthy sacrifice some crakam made to grant them the ability to hide from humans using illusory magic. that ofc creates a sort of weird relationship with crakam society and crakam born with flightless conditions. in sartrill its especially pronounced as glaris is the settlement's "patron deity" and while care is taken to accomodate to the flightless, there is also a social schism between them and other crakam bcs of their connotations and also the fact that most flightless crakam are "strongly encouraged" and often forced to live in the priesthood.

craftsmanship is strongly associated with holiness/the priesthood in sartrill because the body alterations flighted harpies undergo to render themselves flightless permanently actually increases arm flexibility a little, and historically being unable to fly it was a natural direction for many priests to head in to contribute to the community which might be why it became such a strong practice

there are several different conditions that can make a harpy not be flighted - curlfeather is one of them. any condition which does such is treated similarly - it doesn't really matter which, but curlfeather is probably the most common/well known one.

#harpy #fantasy #oc #original character #spec bio #spec evo #speculative biology #speculative evolution #speculative fantasy #speculative zoology #art #artists on tumblr #pareidolia tag #oc: karu #worldbuilding #obv here hes not in his priestly garb #actually sort of a revamp of an old old old oc and doesnt even look anything like it but whatever LOL

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s6ngbird · 10 months ago

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only you — felix catton ᯓ★

⊹₊⋆ warnings — nsfw, p in the v, pretty much no plot, unprotected sex, fingering (f. recieving), overstimulation, lmk if i missed anything

⊹₊⋆ pairing — felix catton x fem!reader

⊹₊⋆ a/n — sorry for not posting for so long! exams were kicking my ass but im back so i will be wrapping up flowers from beneath soon

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

summers at saltburn were always delightful and there never seemed to be a break from the drama

especially this year, as felix invited his new friend, oliver over for the summer

you heavily disliked him, believing that he thought too much of himself and believed he could have felix wrapped around his finger

this was not the case though, as you were the one who had felix wrapped around their finger, practically convincing him to do whatever you desired

you and felix had been friends for a few years, but felix never followed the rules of friendship and liked to make out or fuck you whenever he pleased

it did bother you sometimes, since he would be so chill with fucking all these girls that it made you feel like you were just another doll in his ever-growing collection of people who were obsessed with him

you weren't obsessed with felix, but you craved his attention and validation, wanting his praise whenever you could get it

venetia noticed this first, laughing and teasing you about it but then it wasn't so funny anymore when she found out felix and you liked to fuck

but you couldn't think about fucking felix now, oliver had just arrived a few days prior and he was already taking up all of felix's time and energy

you constantly got bad vibes from oliver, but felix never seemed to notice, causing you to confide in venetia and farleigh

venetia was a bit hesitant but farleigh agreed with you, calling oliver a creep and that he probably wanted to fuck felix himself

this left you unhappy, already upset from the attention being dragged away from you, but especially now that felix barely batted an eye in your direction

all of this was finally resolved though, during one of felix's many parties

you were engaging in a mindless conversation with some random guy, who was obviously flirting with you but you pretended to be oblivious to it

you felt a weight on your shoulders, looking up to see felix draped over you, holding his cigarette and yelling at farleigh

the guy who was previously talking with you gave felix an annoyed glare but left as soon as felix's attention returned to you

felix looked at him confused but shrugged it off and laughed, sitting down on the couch and pulling you on him

felix started placing sloppy kisses on your neck, uncoordinated and whiskey filled kisses

“felix you are so fucking drunk” you say, holding your cup away from him as he tried to grab it, but since his arms were freakishly large, he grabbed it with ease, holding the cup to your lips and pouring it down your throat until it was all done

“there all done! now i can take you upstairs” felix said, getting up and grabbing your hand to try and drag you with him

“felix no” you replied, exhausted and still upset that he had barely paid attention to you all week

he pouted and shrugged, muttering that it wouldn't be a problem, leaving you confused until he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing

you decided against fighting him, being glad that he finally was paying some attention to you and allowed him to carry you upstairs to his room

he placed you on his bed, smiling and stripping himself of his clothes besides his boxers, climbing over you and kissing you

it felt good to finally have felix's attention after the week, getting to feel his lips on yours, and his tongue exploring your mouth certainly was not unwelcome

you allowed him to unzip your dress, helping him slip it off your body as you two continued to kiss one another like starving animals

“whyd'd ya ignore me all week?” felix said between kisses, starting to move his lips down to your throat to suck hard as you moaned

“you were ignoring me!” you yelped as felix smacked your thigh and sucked on your breast hard to silence you

“i was not, i kept trying to get your attention but you only wanted to pay attention to venetia and farleigh” he said angrily, his sweet facade melting away as he pulled down your panties, ripping them off of you to reveal your soaking cunt

he grinned at the sight, not hesitating to dive between your legs and lick up all your arousal

you moaned as his tongue nudged inside your hole, going fully in and then backing out, only to slam itself back inside

you tried to grip his hair for support as you continued to moan but felix slapped your hands away, looking up at you with a warning look

eventually he switched his tongue for his fingers, continuing a brutal pace as you took your bud in his mouth, sucking hard when you least expected it, bring you to your first orgasm of the night

he continued to pump his fingers into you, slapping your ass or thigh every time you tried to push him away from your pussy

“i'm not stopping until i'm satisfied with you, after all that torture you put me through this week, it's only fair” he said hoarsely after you had came at least three more times, everytime complaining about how overstimulated you were

he got off of you and you silently pleaded with whatever that was watching over the two of you that he would be done and just cuddle with you

unfortunately no one seemed to answer your prayer since he got back on you, stripped of his boxers and lining up his hard cock with your hole, the precum spilling as he aligned himself

he slid into you with little resistance, sighing as his cock found home in your warm cunt

he stayed there for a little while, savoring the feeling while you continued to whine and push at his shoulders

he finally started to move, setting a rough pace as you moaned, grabbing his shoulders as you cried

“aw baby don't cry, i promise after this we'll be done” he said, kissing your tears and silencing your whimpers with kisses

you felt so overwhelmed, crying from the feeling of being overstimulated but also moaning from the pleasure coming from felix's cock

“you ok love?” felix says after a while, kissing you once more after you had doing nothing but moaning and crying but suddenly stopped

you nodded, tightening around his cock as you felt your fourth or fifth orgasm approaching

“atta girl, come for me” he said, his hot breath right in your ear and that's all it took for you to come undone on him, coming hard and gripping onto his shoulders like he would disappear

he moaned at the feeling, kissing your neck and letting out praises between his moans

“gonna come in you, gonna make you mine” he said, thrusting once more and coming inside of you, his cum coating your walls

he panted, staying inside of you for a little longer before pulling out and stuffing his cum back inside of you, eliciting a squeal as you were still overstimulated

“sorry baby, can't help but do it, you're mine now” he said with a laugh, grinning at your shocked expression

“no more girls? or guys? not even oliver?” you said, confused by his words due to his playboy nature

“no one, not even oliver” he said, holding you close to him and kissing your head

“only you love”

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi fic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi smut #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x fem! reader #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton fanfic #saltburn smut #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton smut #jacob elordi fanfic

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vivwritesfics · 3 months ago

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Bloody Knuckles

boxer!max

It was a shitty apartment. The wallpaper was peeling, their was damp on the ceiling and none of the appliances worked. At least half of the windows had to be forced open, and the other half were permanently shut. Neither of them could remember the last time their shower stayed warm for more than two minutes.

Hidden away in the bedroom, he laid awake, fingers brushing up and down her arm. She was so delicate compared to him, his bandaged fingers against her skin unmarred by cuts and bruises. She could break, and he would do anything to stop that.

In her sleep, she rolled over and planted her face on his chest. He bit down on his tongue, stopping himself from screaming out in pain at the sensation. She didn't know just how mad the last fight had been, how bad he had come out.

He was the winner, of course. He always was.

His freckled, pillowy lips met the top of her head. Fuck, he loved her. He loved her more than words could describe. His heart ached. It might have been the pain, or the guilt he was harbouring.

When the sun rose (visible because the curtains left the bottom few inches of the window exposed, and they couldn't get the curtain rod down to change it), he did. He slipped out of bed and she rolled onto his side of the bed. Her face was buried against his pillow when he got changed into his workout gear and slipped out of the room.

The change in his pocket paid for his red bull and he headed to the gym.

His build wasn't expected of most boxers. He wasn't big and bulky, with bulging muscles. That was why people betting on him made so much money at first, because he was the underdog.

But he had been in the game for too long now, and people knew his tricks.

Throwing his stuff into his usually locker, number thirty three, he finished his Red Bull and began wrapping his knuckles.

"Maximus," said Daniel as he stepped out of the shower, towel around his hips. "Big night tonight, huh?" He asked and Max gave a nod. "You got the ring?"

He turned and fished the little black box from his gym bag. That was there he'd been hiding it from her, keeping it at the very bottom of his gym bag.

Max opened the box, showing Daniel the engagement ring inside. It was simple, nothing fancy. A simple band with dainty leaves engraved on it.

"She's gonna love it."

Daniel had never met the woman Max wanted to marry. But he was right, she was going to love it.

Max tapped his knuckles together, shut his locker, and headed out into the gym.

***

God, she looked lovely. Her best pair of earrings dangled from her ears and the necklace Max had gotten her for Christmas hung from her neck.

She'd had the dress longer than she'd known Max. She rarely got to wear it, usually had a bag hanging over it in the wardrobe to keep it safe.

But tonight it hugged her frame just right as she walked on Max's arm. She had no idea where they were going as Max wrapped his arm around her.

But then she saw the restaurant. A gasp left her lips. "Max, we can't afford this," she whispered. And tugged on her arm.

But Max stopped her. "Trust me, liefje, I've got this," he assured her and gave the waiter the name on his reservation.

Dinner with the man she loved. She ordered the cheapest thing possible on the menu even when Max reassured her he could cover the bill, no matter what it was.

She didn't know how Max had made enough extra cash to take her to the fanciest restaurant going. She didn't know the illegal fights he was a part of and the money it was making.

It was going smoothly. The ring was in his pocket, ready for him to get down onto one knee. The weight of it was so damn heavy, Max couldn't wait.

"Mad Max?"

His stomach dropped. That name was never meant to be said outside of the ring. He wildly looked around for the owner of the voice, breaths coming out shallow.

"Let's get out of here, liefje," he said and placed wads of cash down with the receipt.

Unaware of anything wrong, she placed her hand in in his and followed him out of the restaurant.

"Mad Max, wait!"

Max sped them up, pulling her along behind him. "Come on, man! I've put a shitload of money on you!"

Suddenly, Max had him. He pushed the man, a guy he had seen at quite a few ot his fights, against the wall. "Leave us the fuck alone!" He roared, pressing on the guys neck.

He dropped him, grabbed his girl, and sped off.

"What the hell was that?" She gasped, footsteps hurried to keep up with him.

Max shook his head. "Don't worry about it, liefje." His jaw was tight. "It's never gonna happen again."

#formula one #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader

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barcaatthemoon · 3 months ago

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can't get you out of my head || leah williamson x reader ||

leah has a crush on you, the new signing for arsenal.

leah felt like she was losing her mind. every single time that she turned around, you were there. at work, that wasn't much of a surprise. leah knew your work ethic, and that you'd spend extra time in the training facility after everyone else had left. what had come as a surprise, however, was the fact you had gotten an apartment in her building complex.

that wasn't your fault, leah had overheard you talking to kim about the apartment they set you up in. you had been married when talks of moving to arsenal started, so they got you a bigger place. by the time that the contracts were signed and finished, you had begun your divorce proceedings. you had been absolutely devastated that your wife didn't want to come with you to england, but you didn't let it stop you.

unfortunately for leah, once she had heard about your split, her brain decided it could go all in with her crush on you. she had known you for years, the two of you having played in the same age groups for england since both of your first call ups. she could still remember the way she had felt almost heartbroken whenever you announced your engagement to one of the french players you had met during your first season at lyon with lucy.

"morning skip," you greeted leah in the elevator. your apartment was a floor or two above hers, so you were always one of the first people leah saw in the mornings. she didn't mind that, although she would have preferred it if you were waking up in her bed.

"morning (y/n)," leah mumbled, not completely awake yet. the two of you had been called in for a media video, some game that they wanted the two of you specifically to play. you understood why, both of your careers had similar trajectories, just in different countries. you were an english player, but you had become a staple of french club football before you made the jump back to your home country.

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, which leah was grateful for. she wasn't sure whether or not she could keep her thoughts in order around you this early. it wasn't fair how put together you seemed at all times. leah felt like she was struggling to look and act like a person, and here you were, doing it all so effortlessly.

there were a few more players there for the video, which would showcase the various ways you did a few different drills and training games. you and leah were immediately put on a team together. on the pitch, leah was able to think a bit clearer, and the two of you flew through your games. a few of them were close, but you still managed to keep the lead.

"alright, a few words with our winners," katie said, absolutely loving her role as host. "couldn't have come back a few years ago with those skills, eh?"

"hey, i came when my country called," you joked. "everything happens in its own time."

"it's too early for wisdom. is she always like this leah?" katie asked. leah nodded, a small smile on her face.

"oh yeah, sometimes i think she and bronzey used to just speak to hear themselves," leah teased. you pushed her a bit, but was there to catch her when she nearly just toppled over. katie asked a few more questions, and leah found herself rambling a little whenever she got to talk about you.

"careful, you keep talking about me like that and i might just fall for you," you joked. leah, however, didn't take it as such. she just sort of stopped walking, and it wasn't until you turned around that leah started moving again. "you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," leah said clearly. her next words were mumbled barely above a whisper, but you caught them anyways, "fuck, i am so attracted to you right now."

…

leah had to get away from you. you were driving her absolutely up the wall. it wasn't like you were even doing any of it on purpose, and the worst part was that leah knew that. she knew that it was all in her head. leah was just down bad for you with no signs of getting over it.

you had made a few changes to your look since arriving and getting comfortable at arsenal. the training program had added a few pounds of muscle to your physique, and leah would have been a liar if she didn't wonder sometimes how it would have felt to be tossed around by you. on top of that, you had gone out with some of the girls for a holiday and come back with a couple of piercings. the icing on the cake however, was the tattoo.

leah had seen it purely on accident. she was making her way onto the dance floor to let you know some of them were heading home. your back was turned to her, but leah knew that it was sitll you. she couldn't tell you what the song playing was, but she'd never forget the bed of flowers that was so intricately drawn along the small of your back. there was something trailing up, but leah didn't have time to catch all of it before you turned around.

"hey, everything okay?" you asked as you stumbled off of the dance floor.

"y-yeah," leah stammered. it wasn't like her to do that, so you led her over towards a table to sit. "some of the girls are leaving, just wanted you to know so you didn't panic later. you can go back to dancing if you want, i'm good for another pitcher or two."

"like hell you are, not here. come on, we can keep drinking at my place. i want you somewhat sober for the stairs," you told her. leah thought it was funny how protective and stern you got with her. she'd do absolutely anything for you, even without that tone of voice. leah shook her head as her thoughts started to run rampant. it was always like that whenever she started thinking about you.

"alright then, off we go," leah said as she shot up from the chair. the bar wasn't too far from your apartment complex, but the walk still took it out of you. you had spent all night walking and dancing around in your heels, and all you wanted was to take them off. you thought you were being subtle with your grimaces, but when leah picked you up, you realized that you weren't.

"ah! what are you doing?" you couldn't help the undignified squeal that had left your lips. leah just laughed at it as she tried to reposition you in her arms.

"carrying you. i can set you down and you can ride on my back if you want. should have called a cab, didn't think about your shoes," leah mumbled. you let her set you down before hopping onto her back. it was nice to rest your head against leah's shoulder as she carried you the last two blocks back home. you had almost fallen asleep when leah dropped you in the elevator.

"aren't you gonna come up? i thought you were good for another couple pints," you teased. leah's finger hovered over her apartment floor before moving up to yours. you smiled as you leaned in and wrapped an arm around leah's shoulders. outside of the club, it was obvious that you were far more drunk than leah originally thought.

"i am, but no more for you missy. you're going straight to bed," leah told you. she was using her captain voice. normally, you would have reacted like you did in practice, but instead, leah could see the way it darkened your eyes a bit. she quickly tries to turn away, but your arm around her shoulders keeps her from getting too far.

you manage to get yourself dressed by yourself, and even bring leah out some comfortable clothes to wear as well. it feels like you're waiting forever to watch her walk out in a pair of your sweatpants and a tank top. all of it is a bit baggy on her, but the sight of her in your clothes makes your heart skip a beat.

"why are you looking at me like that?" leah asked as she leaned down in front of you. it's definitely the alcohol that pushes you to do it. you never would have just leaned up and kissed her otherwise, despite the fact that you had been thinking about it since you were at your first england camp with leah. "(y/n)…"

"is it someone else?" you asked, immediately feeling rejected. you want to crawl away and cry, but you know that it's nothing a few more shots won't fix.

"no, not at all. i want this too, i mean it's pathetic sometimes. i can't think straight around you. tonight isn't the right time, not when you're drunk. if you still want me in the morning, let me know. i'll be right here on your couch," leah promised. you smiled at the sweetness of her words. you made some room for her to sit with you, knowing that you wouldn't make it back to your bed. you wanted a good cuddle, and if leah was staying on your couch, you'd stay with her.

leah didn't move a muscle as you passed out barely ten minutes later. she finished her beer and pulled a blanket over the both of you. it wasn't comfortable by any means, but leah couldn't remember when she had slept so soundly before. a part of her was nervous about you waking up and kicking her out, but that was immediately quelled when you woke up with the sun that morning only to pull leah into your bedroom with you just so you could continue to hold her tight.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

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soaps-mohawk · 4 months ago

Text

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

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