#well it’s not like there will be any suspense but imagine if they’re had been

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 2 | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. 3.6k words

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I could barely contain my excitement as I sat in the bustling airport with my classmates, waiting for our flight to New York. My leg bounced with nervous energy, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I had been looking forward to this day for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the anticipation was almost too much to handle.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” my friend Lauren teased, nudging me with her elbow as she sipped on her overpriced airport coffee.

“I can’t help it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going to New York!”

“Yeah, but you look like you’ve just won the lottery or something,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so giddy?”

I bit my lip, trying to tone down my excitement. I couldn’t exactly tell her about Manhattan, about how I was going to surprise him by being in his city. The thought alone made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

“I guess I’m just excited to finally see the city,” I said, half-truthfully. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Well, it’s going to be amazing,” Lauren agreed, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t wait to explore. Have you got any plans for when we’re not at the conference?”

“Not really,” I lied. “I figured I’d just wander around, see where the city takes me.”

In reality, I had been meticulously planning out my free time, making sure I’d have the chance to visit some of the places Manhattan had mentioned in our conversations. Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, and maybe even that bagel place he’d raved about. But I wasn’t going to tell Lauren all of that. Not yet.

As we waited to board, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan. I glanced at the screen, my heart doing a little flip as I saw his name pop up.

Wednesday, May 29, 2024Today, 10:17 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today, San Diego?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed out my response, the excitement of the trip making it hard to keep the secret.

ME: Just hanging out, nothing too crazy. How about you? :) MANHATTAN: Same here, just getting ready for another big game. A little exciting. What’s got you in such a good mood today?

He knew me too well. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to drop a hint or keep the surprise going.

ME: Let’s just say I’ve got something fun planned. I’ll tell you all about it later. MANHATTAN: You’re killing me with suspense here, San Diego. Now I’m curious.

I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I imagined his reaction when I finally told him—or when I maybe even bumped into him in his own city.

ME: Patience, Manhattan. You’ll find out soon enough. MANHATTAN: I guess I don’t have a choice. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.

I tucked my phone back into my bag, my smile refusing to fade. This trip was going to be unforgettable, and not just because of the conference. I could hardly wait to step off the plane and onto New York soil, knowing that Manhattan had no idea what was coming.

“Alright, they’re boarding our flight,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You ready?”

“More than ready,” I said, grabbing my own bag and following her to the gate, my heart racing with anticipation. New York, here I come.

As the plane descended into New York, my excitement was at an all-time high. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, but more than that, I couldn’t wait to surprise Manhattan. The plan was simple: I’d head to his college, catch one of his hockey games, and finally meet him in person. I could already picture the look on his face when he saw me there.

After dropping my bags off at the hotel and freshening up, I decided to send him a quick message. I needed to get some information without giving away my plan.

ME: Hey, how’s hockey going? My friend is heading to New York soon, and I was thinking maybe she could grab me a hoodie from your college. ME: Which college do you go to again?

I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I watched the typing bubble appear. I wondered if he’d catch on to what I was trying to do, but he probably thought I was just being curious.

The typing bubble kept appearing and disappearing, and I felt my anticipation build. What was taking him so long?

Finally, his message came through.

MANHATTAN: Long Island University. Let’s go Sharks! 🦈

I smiled to myself, mentally filing away the information. LIU. Perfect. Now I just needed to find out when their next game was and how to get there. The idea of seeing him in action, playing the sport he was so passionate about, made me even more excited.

ME: Cool! I’ll definitely ask her to grab me one. LIU sounds like a great school. MANHATTAN: It is. I’m really enjoying it here. Hockey’s been great too.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling a rush of excitement. Everything was falling into place. In just a few days, I’d be at LIU, watching him play, and he had no idea what was coming.

ME: Glad to hear it! Maybe one day I’ll get to see you play in person. MANHATTAN: I’d like that. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for the hoodie 😉

I laughed, feeling a surge of anticipation. He had no idea that “one day” was much sooner than he thought.

ME: I guess I will. But who knows what the future holds? MANHATTAN: True. The future’s full of surprises.

I couldn’t agree more. Little did he know, the biggest surprise was about to come his way. I tucked my phone away, feeling more determined than ever. Tomorrow, I’d make my way to LIU, ready to see Manhattan in his element. This trip was turning out to be more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.

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The next morning, I woke up early, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day I’d finally see Manhattan play hockey. After a quick breakfast with my classmates, I made up an excuse about needing some time alone to explore the city. They didn’t ask too many questions, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that I was sneaking off to surprise a guy I’d never actually met in person.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I set off toward Long Island University. The city buzzed with energy as I navigated the subway system, and I could hardly keep still as I imagined what the game would be like. What would he look like on the ice? Would I recognize him immediately?

When I finally arrived at LIU’s campus, I felt a rush of excitement. The rink was larger than I expected, and the atmosphere was alive with the buzz of college sports. I spotted a few people in Sharks gear and made a mental note to grab a hoodie later—something to remember this day by.

Just as I was about to head inside, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan.

Thursday, May 30, 2024Today, 9:00 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today?

I hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping the surprise and telling him something closer to the truth.

ME: Just wandering around, checking out some new places. You? MANHATTAN: Nothing too exciting, just got some practice. Gotta stay sharp for the game tomorrow.

My heart skipped a beat. If he was heading to practice, that meant he’d be at the rink soon. I grinned, feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place.

ME: Busy day for you then. Good luck with practice!

I tucked my phone away and stepped into the rink. The cool air hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling city outside. I found a seat near the middle, close enough to see the action but far enough to stay somewhat hidden. The rink was buzzing with the energy of casual practice, but I didn’t see anyone who looked like Manhattan.

Confused, I glanced at my phone again, but decided to focus on enjoying the moment. Maybe everything would still work out.

As the few players on the ice began to pack up, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I made my way down to the edge of the rink where the three boys were gathering their gear. They looked friendly enough, chatting and laughing as they peeled off their jerseys.

"Hi there," I greeted them tentatively, hoping not to intrude.

"Hey," one of them replied with a smile, while another gave a nod in acknowledgment.

Feeling a bit bolder, I held up the picture of Manhattan that I had saved on my phone. "Do you guys happen to know him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

The boy closest to me glanced at the picture and furrowed his brow. "Is this a test, or a bad joke?" he replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I blinked, taken aback by his reaction. "No, not at all," I said quickly. "He's a hockey player, right?"

The boy let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with his teammate who rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a hockey player," he replied, his tone slightly mocking. With that, he skated off towards the locker rooms, his friend following close behind.

Left standing there, I turned to the last boy who was gathering his equipment. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.

He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, maybe try MSG or something," he suggested, referring to Madison Square Garden. With that, he picked up his stick and followed his teammates off the ice, leaving me feeling confused and unsure of what to do next.

I stared after them for a moment, my heart sinking. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

Feeling disheartened and unsure of what had just transpired at the rink, I made my way back to the hotel. My mind was still spinning with confusion and disappointment over not finding any trace of Manhattan. As I walked through the lobby, Lauren immediately noticed something was off.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

I forced a smile, trying to brush off my disappointment. "Nothing, just tired," I replied vaguely.

To cheer me up, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey, you like hockey, right? There's some playoffs happening tomorrow, and apparently they're really shitty seats, but Professor Tenner says we can all go since it's included in the expo."

Her attempt to lift my spirits caught my attention. Playoffs sounded exciting, and even though I was still reeling from the day's events, the prospect of attending a hockey game in New York City was enticing, even if it wasn't one of Manhattan's games like I'd hoped.

"Really?" I perked up, feeling a glimmer of excitement return. "That sounds like fun. I could use a distraction."

She nodded eagerly. "Exactly! We'll forget about everything and just enjoy the game."

I nodded in agreement, grateful for her effort to turn things around. Perhaps the disappointment of today would fade with the thrill of tomorrow's game.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we rode the subway towards Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the upcoming hockey playoffs managed to distract me momentarily from the strange encounter at LIU's rink earlier. The subway car was filled with fans dressed in jerseys, hats, and scarves, all buzzing with anticipation for the game. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw the neon signs outside the arena proclaiming, "NEW YORK RANGERS VS FLORIDA PANTHERS, 2-2 TIED SERIES."

Glancing at my phone, I noticed several unread messages from Manhattan. They started off flirty, but the last few were increasingly concerned:

Friday, May 31, 2024Today, 7:00 PM MANHATTAN: Made my sister take this so you can see how hard it is being so tall and attractive

MANHATTAN: Hey, haven't heard from you all day. Everything okay? ❤️ MANHATTAN: Did something happen? You're acting weird. MANHATTAN: Seriously, just let me know you're okay. MANHATTAN: San Diego??? MANHATTAN: I'm starting to get worried now. Please, just tell me what's going on.

Each message tugged at my conscience, but right now, with the game looming ahead and the vibrant energy of the city around me, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Turning off my phone, I focused on the lively scene outside as we emerged from the subway. Madison Square Garden towered above us, its exterior adorned with banners and flags of the Rangers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of excited fans and vendors selling snacks and memorabilia.

My friend nudged me excitedly. "This is going to be awesome," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I nodded, a surge of anticipation building within me. Stepping into the bustling concourse of the arena, I marveled at the sea of blue and red jerseys, each person radiating their team pride. It was infectious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of being part of such a passionate crowd.

Finding our seats, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not responding to Manhattan's messages. I promised myself I would explain everything later, after the game. Right now, I needed to immerse myself in the thrill of playoff hockey and enjoy this unforgettable experience in the heart of New York City.

Just before the game began, one last text came in from Manhattan. The notification popped up on my screen, and I couldn't ignore it any longer:

MANHATTAN: Starting to think I messed things up. Please talk to me. I have to go, but PLEASE tell me you're okay.

The urgency in his message was palpable, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I owed him an explanation, but right now, surrounded by the anticipation of the playoff game at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't find the words to reply.

My friend noticed my troubled expression and gently asked, "Everything okay?"

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the excitement of the moment and the guilt of leaving Manhattan hanging. "Yeah, just some stuff going on," I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.

She nodded understandingly, sensing my reluctance to talk about it. "Well, let's focus on the game. It's going to be amazing!"

I managed a small smile, grateful for her distraction. As the national anthem played and the teams took the ice, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy of the arena was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement despite my lingering worries about Manhattan.

As the players came out and the game began, the atmosphere inside Madison Square Garden was electric. The puck dropped, and the game progressed smoothly until midway through the second period. Number 73, newly on the ice, was skating hard when suddenly, number 91 from the opposing team delivered a hard hit. The crowd erupted into shouts and boos as the large screen replayed the hit, the referees finally calling a penalty.

In the midst of the chaos, the camera panned back to the live action, focusing on New York Rangers' number 73 as he removed his helmet. And there he was—Manhattan.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him on the screen, his presence confirming that the mystery friend who had been texting me was indeed using a picture of Matt Rempe. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind. Had I been lied to this whole time? Was this some elaborate prank or misunderstanding?

As Manhattan skated off the ice, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of betrayal. The crowd's cheers and the game's intensity became distant background noise as I tried to process everything. The realization that Manhattan was real and here, playing hockey in front of me, collided with the unsettling feeling that someone had deceived me.

I glanced at my friend beside me, who was still cheering enthusiastically for the Rangers. She turned to me with a bright smile. "This is amazing, right?"

"Yeah," I managed to reply, forcing a smile while my mind raced with unanswered questions.

As the game continued, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan on the ice. Despite the whirlwind of emotions, one thing was clear—there was much more to this story than I had ever imagined.

On the way out of the game, the crowd slowly dispersing around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and confusion. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a moment before typing out a message to Manhattan.

ME: So, was this all just a joke? Using someone else's photos to pretend to be someone you're not?

The message hung in the air, my thumb hovering over the send button. I felt a mix of anger and hurt, wanting desperately for there to be some explanation that would make sense of everything. But as the seconds ticked by, doubts crept in. What if I had been naive to believe in this connection all along?

My friend glanced over at me, sensing my unease. "You okay?" she asked gently.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just… something came up," I replied vaguely, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

Finally, I pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss. As we made our way through the bustling streets of New York City, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that the person I thought I knew as Manhattan might not be who he claimed to be after all.

The crowd outside Madison Square Garden buzzed with post-game energy, but my focus was solely on my phone, waiting for Manhattan’s reply. The seconds dragged on before my screen lit up with his response.

MANHATTAN: What? A joke? What are you talking about?

I clenched my jaw, frustrated by his confusion. How could he not understand?

ME: I saw you. Or, I guess I saw the real you. You’ve been sending me photos of a hockey player this whole time, pretending it was you. Matt Rempe. Ring a bell?

I hit send, my emotions swirling between hurt and anger. Was this his way of getting a laugh? Why string me along like this?

His response came quickly this time.

MANHATTAN: Wait, what? I didn’t lie to you, I swear. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

I scoffed at my phone. Was he really going to keep this act up?

ME: You sent me his photo. Matt Rempe. Number 73 for the Rangers. I saw him on the ice tonight.

My hands were shaking slightly as I typed, overwhelmed by everything. How could he keep denying it when I’d literally just seen Matt?

There was a longer pause before his next message.

MANHATTAN: I didn’t lie. I never pretended to be someone else. I’m really confused right now. How did you… how did you see me?

My breath caught. Why did he sound so genuine? My mind scrambled to piece it together. How could he not know that I’d seen the very guy whose pictures he’d been sending? It didn’t make sense.

I typed again, my heart pounding.

ME: I saw him play. I was at the Rangers game tonight. You’ve been using his pictures this whole time, and now I feel like an idiot for believing you.

There was another long pause, and I could imagine him, wherever he was, sitting there trying to figure out what had just happened.

The longer I waited, the more the knot in my stomach tightened. Finally, my phone buzzed again with his reply.

MANHATTAN: I’m so confused. How did you end up at a Rangers game? I never sent you anyone else’s photos. I swear. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. ME: I came here for a school trip. I wanted to surprise you, so I went to what you told me was your University yesterday to see you play hockey. I thought it’d be this cute moment, but you weren’t there. Some guys at the rink acted weird when I asked about you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Then today, at the game, I saw Matt Rempe... The guy in the photos you’ve been sending me. MANHATTAN: Wait. You’re in New York? You went looking for me??? MANHATTAN: Okay, this is all a big misunderstanding, and I need you to believe me. I’m not lying. I am Matt Rempe. ME: No, you're not. Stop it. If this is your way of messing with me, just admit it. Why would you pretend to be someone like him? You think I wouldn’t find out? MANHATTAN: I’m not pretending. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I also didn’t want to throw all that stuff at you so fast. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been hiding things, but I wasn’t trying to trick you. I swear. ME: So what, you’re just Matt Rempe all of a sudden? I’m supposed to believe that you’re the guy I watched get slammed on the ice tonight? MANHATTAN: Yes. I wanted to tell you but we became friends and never stopped the little nickname thing, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.

I stared at the message, my head spinning. How could this be true? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

[laniusbignaturals]

i MUST hear more about your arcade/caesar grossfic. they compel me So Much and everything youve posted about them only draws me in more

(Gonna insert my answer to this ask in here too, since they’re about the same topic.)

Well, I certainly appreciate the interest from both of you, and whenever it gets done I expect to post it on AO3. I’ll be sure to drop a link on this blog, of course.

As for the content, it’s.

Well.

It’s chugging along!

The Producer, also called Arcade Makes Bad Decisions: The Fic is the most recent addition to the WIP purgatory I’ve been collecting since I last finished a writing project two months ago. It will hopefully break the streak, since I’m still actively writing it. In the fic, Arcade has a prolonged emotional episode on the anniversary of his father’s dad’s death, which he’s spending separated from people with overlapping life experience (like his mom and Daisy) while working to become a research nurse. He ends up lingering in a part of town he’s not used to, meeting Edward, and having a one night stand with him. Interspersed throughout are flashbacks to Edward at the age of 35, as old as Arcade is in the present. Back then, he was presenting as much more of an overtly dangerous, untrustworthy thug than the beguiling, image conscious slimeball that takes advantage of Arcade’s extended breakdown for some fleeting sexual contact. The non-chronological order adds enough suspense that I feel comfortable calling it porn with plot, but ultimately what it comes down to is just that. Mildly distressing porn, decorated with some themes of performative masculinity, stress addiction, and cultural stigma.

I’m gonna make a concerted effort not to post any supplementary material to the fic (stuff like the playlist, the header image drafts, etc) before the damn thing itself gets done, because I really need to stop letting these WIPs die on the vine once I’ve had my fun with imagining them. Always good to know that there’s an audience, though. Thank you!

[arealphrooblem]

Surrender Prompt Fills #1

I love the voluntary surrender prompts by @whither-wander-whump so much I decided to attempt them all. This is the first one.

- a character doing it because they have no choice. They’re too tired to run anymore. They just want to get it over with, so they hold out their hands for the chains. What else can they do?

“Quite a merry chase you’ve led me on.”

The villain stepped out from the tree-line, looking impeccable and untouchable despite their complaints.

The hero paid them no mind, keeping their gaze on the sunset blazing before them. Their last free sunset. It spilled across the sky in brilliant pinks and golds and dark blue undertones that made the hero itch to paint.

Not that they would ever paint again. They still imagined it.

“I didn’t expect you to lead me here. Do you think I won’t attack you in a public park?”

The Hero did not bother to point out that the park was empty, that the streets had been declared unsafe while the Villain relentlessly searched for the Hero. That part of the reason for this surrender was to give innocent people their lives back.

“Can you wait until it's over?” they asked instead.

The Villain gave them a dubious look, caught off guard. And no wonder — for weeks the Hero had stayed just out of their reach, pulled so many hail marys and deus ex machinas to keep their freedom. Of course they took the hero’s surrender with a grain of salt.

But then the Villain did something surprising of their own and sat down next to Hero on the old wooden park bench.

“It is especially stunning this evening,” they offered. “I can tell you’re itching to paint it. Tell me, was it worth your freedom?”

“You’re dying to know why I stopped running, aren’t you,” the Hero said, snorting.

“I do find it rather baffling how much effort you’ve spent planning and upkeeping your escape only to stop now for no discernible reason.”

“There’s a reason.”

Hero could feel the weight of the Villain’s side-eyed stare, dissecting them, trying to break them into logical pieces.

“Are you going to elaborate or are you going to keep me in suspense?” they asked.

“Will you shut up and watch the sunset?” the hero shot back.

“You don’t actually need to be quiet to watch a sunset, there’s no auditory component to —”

Hero kicked the Villain in the shin. The Villain shut up. In fact, the Villain stayed blessedly quiet as the sky slowly darkened, the brilliant fire of the sun fading into the soft hues of the night. Even as the moon glowed into view, the Villain did not initiate any capture.

“I’m tired,” they confessed to the warm, breezy night air. “I haven’t slept more than three hours a night for weeks, I barely eat. I can’t stop and enjoy anything because I’m always moving to stay one step ahead of you. I can’t do it anymore. Don’t you get tired of chasing me?”

“I didn’t at first,” the Villain replied softly. “I liked the challenge. Now it’s tedious and exhausting.” They sighed. “I don’t sleep well either.”

The Hero took one last long look at the fading horizon, the tiny pinpricks of stars twinkling into view, before turning towards the Villain with their hands held out.

“I suppose it’s time we finally got some rest” they said.

The Villain gave them a long, searching look. In fact, they looked more disturbed by the Hero’s obedience than victorious. Almost mournful.

Meanwhile, the Hero felt strangely at peace. The fear of discovery had haunted them, hunted them, a constant baying of hounds at the edge of their thoughts. But now the worst has happened. Now there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

“Well,” the Hero prompted. “They aren’t going to put themselves on.”

The Villain twitched, as if shaking a stray thought. Then they reached into their jacket pocket for the cuffs. Made of platinum, the cuffs looked like flat, thick bracelets, but they each contained a tracker, a tiny, hypodermic needle that injected power suppressants every twelve hours, and the ability to produce an electric shock strong enough to stop a heart beat.

The Hero did not flinch when the Villain latched the cuffs onto their wrists with a reverent tenderness they certainly did not use the first time.

“If I had any other way . . .” They said haltingly. “If I didn’t need you . . .”

The unspoken promise hung in the air between them, and despite everything the Villain had put them through, the thought behind such a promise was sincerely reassuring.

“I know,” the Hero said softly.

The Villain still held onto their wrists, thumb skating back and forth over the delicate skin at the edge of the cuff.

“Perhaps I will take you to see another sunset,” they murmured. “Perhaps I will let you paint me one.”

The Hero almost believed them. “Perhaps,” they said simply, and stood up. “Let’s go.”

The Villain threw one last look at the moon, as if they too thought it was their last time, before  guiding Hero out of the park with a hand on the small of their back.

[enamoredwithbella]

PJO TV CRIT RANT COMING !!

If you don’t want to hear or don’t like it just don’t read it. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion

-

I’ve been on the pjo tv crit tag and I gotta say I agree with most of what’s on there 😭😭

All my praise for the show goes to the actors alone. I’m not stupid I didn’t expect the show to be an exact replica of the books cause that would’ve been boring as well but I feel like say “faithful adaptation” is a bit overzealous.

1. The changes

Some of the changes I love. Like them stopping for candy and Annabeth going in was so cute. Grover using psychological warfare on the God of war ate.

But a lot of the changes were just like ???? What was the point? And all the stuff that they revealed like 4-5 seasons too early. Stuff that was hinted at through the books that built suspense and intrigue just dumped on the table was a bit 😕

I remember finding out about Luke’s mom and why Luke REALLY hated his father. It literally had me gagged it was like finding out something I didn’t even know I was waiting for. The build up to them finding out Kronos involved was always a favorite cause it felt so raw. It was pure fear encapsulated by words, you could feel it, it was palpable and we just didn’t get that in the show. It was so “here you go. Kronos it was him *but said intensely*”

2. Them knowing everything

I do understand how it does make sense that they would know a lot of things from the jump as they all literally grew up with this information but a lot of the times where they didn’t realize exactly what was happening right away in the books have a slight reminder of how young and innocent they are. These neurodivergent 12 year olds who have been tasked with a Gods job and have been trekking across the states for days; yeah I wouldn’t expect them to be at the top of their game ALL THE TIME no matter how smart they are. The slip ups show that even though they’re these tiny warriors they aren’t immune to being a little naive.

3. Setting

I’m not gonna criticize the settings cause if that’s how Rick imagined it then that’s how he imagined it but I can’t blame the ppl who are a bit miffed at how the sets were portrayed. The underworld did truly throw me off.

4. Info dumping ?? Or not enough info idk

I also saw a post about how they would just throw random names out there pertaining to Greek mythology and then just not explain 😭😭 and all the stuff that they left out too (fields of punishment, isle blest, etc) which sets up for things in later seasons. And I understand the time crunch; 8 episodes 40 mins give or take and a dream is what they had. That being said this shit was a mess 🤷🏽‍♀️😭😭 like badly set up, script was not doing them any justice, and it felt so boring most of the time.

5. Whimsy and fun erasure

There were gems I will keep saying that. There were fun times but the fun times also felt very strategically placed whereas in the books it was sorta woven into the chaos. Charon being a lil silly, Grover playing the shooting game in the lotus casino and killing humans (I love him so much 😭😭), annabeth geeking over the architecture of the arch and going on a tangent about how it was made while Grover and Percy trade candy in the back. Talking to the animals and Percy finding out he can speak horse, the car wash where annabeth scares off a grown man in a Lincoln, “shows over! Thank you and goodnight!”, Percy and Grover clowning annabeth for watching the discovery channel unironically. I’m not saying I expected them to put all this shit in there cause again I’m not an imbecile but the type of wit and humor that made everyone fall in love with the books was cut out for the more serious stuff. And what’s so frustrating about that is I KNOW the actors would’ve ate it up. Walker especially that boy IS Percy.

I could keep finding stuff but I’m trying to be grateful cause even after all of this Rick did take the time to try and think of us and maybe it’s not his fault but idk it’s just a bit disappointing after the way it was marketed towards long time fans

Much love to Walker, Leah, and Aryan and hope for future seasons 😊

[t-u-i-t-c]

Hello ! Hope you are having a good day !😊

What are your thoughts regarding the 3rd lap of boonboomger? The poster definitely increases the suspense for the upcoming episodes ✨️

I don’t really have enough information to really speculate on anything or have a specific idea of what they’re going to do with the 3rd Lap, but I do have some thoughts regarding Genba so far. 

Rambling under the cut

I really feel the need to preface this by saying that I think the past, memories, and gradual growth are really important within the narrative that BoonBoomger has been painting so far. In episode 24, we’re told that Taiya was gathering colorful people who have gradually brightened him up and allowed him to open up. When he was a child Taiya was the type to not mind games with others, but really found more appeal in working on his own and working on cars, something we know he still enjoys. He also likes music as we can see when he plays guitar and he has multiple guitars safely stored within his home, which you can see in episode 21. This is to say that I feel like this is important for Genba’s character. It is heavily implied in the episode blogs and even a little in the series that Taiya has known Genba longer than Ishiro or Bundorio. Normally these things might not hold significance, but seeing as how memories have held such significance in Taiya’s relationships and with Sakito’s decisions in the 2nd Lap, I don’t think it’s a stretch to think that it’s important for Genba as well.

Being that Genba is like a second member to join the team, though Bundorio is a part of the team he’s not a ranger so we’ll overlook him for the moment, and Taiya’s gradually been gathering his group of colorful people. I find it significant that Genba was an early choice. If we look back, it was pretty clear that while Genba didn’t want to fight Taiya had asked him about fighting prior to giving him his Change Axe. Genba had always been a part of the team, Taiya had already given him a Changer and given him the opportunity, but was letting Genba sit on the idea until the time came where Taiya knew Genba would be more interested in shifting roles. He does state that Genba’s Change Axe was tailor-made for him when he gives it to him and they discuss this having been a discussion they’ve had before in episode 7.

When Genba officially becomes Bun Orange he says that he has a reason for fighting, but when asked about it by Taiya he says that it’s a secret for now. I don’t know if this is relevant for what could occur in the 3rd Lap, but it’s something I think about a lot. 

Genba likes seeing people passionate and serious about but is still discovering what he’s serious about. I feel like he knows the things he likes and enjoys helping people, especially through procurement, but he has difficulty defining himself and focusing solely on himself. He’s creative and imaginative with an interesting sense of humor and will whip out little words of wisdom and even sometimes talks to the audience, though it’s not clear if he’s talking to the audience or if this is just something he does, like when someone just talks to themself. This talking to the audience may also not have any significance though, as it is a common gag. Genba’s just really showing us shreds of himself gradually, but these things aren’t really personal. Genba doesn’t really ever get personal like the others do, which is why it is significant when he does open a bit to Mira about his interest in learning what he can be serious about. I think Taiya and Genba may be alike in this way, though Taiya is more willing to share he has to be provoked a bit to fully open up and has gradually become easier to talk to about personal things although he still holds back. Ever since the defeat of Madrex, Taiya has been able to express more open interest in the others but also be a bit more open about himself. I think his difficulty with this still shows however, as he can’t really talk about things directly without others being direct themselves. This is shown when he can’t really talk to Bundorio about his previous dreams because he asks in a way that’s a bit confusing and out of nowhere from Taiya’s perspective. He’s also still not used to the affection he gets from the others, as he still feels a bit awkward about hugs and things. Even in episode 1 Taiya was said to not give Bundorio’s food many compliments along with Taiya. This is all to say that there’s a sense of Taiya slowly opening up more and more with each person and each person brings more light to his life and contrasts more with him. Mira and Jou hold such significance because they’re outgoing and very affectionate, willing to help without any strings attached and finding the good in people. 

So basically what I’m getting at is that Genba is kind of a mix of the closed-off nature of Taiya and Ishiro and the fun loving nature of Mira and Jou. He creates a balance in a way. I think Sakito joining the team had an affect on this balance though, as Sakito is another more open person but still finding his place. He's different from Genba, and Genba doesn't oppose him working with the team, even admiring his tactics to get paid, but there is a slight shift. Genba has seemed to get gradually more concerned in his expressions lately, as the fight continues to escalate, and in the preview for episode 26 he seems to be concerned/angered.

I think there’s a lot to consider with this but I also don’t know if I should take his ability to get his hands on information into consideration, like I don’t know if he might have information that we’re just not privy to at the moment or not. Also the next episode shows the return of the Toilet Grumer, whose water made people be honest/drop facades and this could be significant.

I do have more thoughts and I am still organizing everyone's information, but I'll keep it at this for now.

[strangesmallbard]

Yo what romance you reading? 👀 Also any recs welcome spread the good taste ✊😩

FJFKJF when i wrote that post i was definitely reading motherland: fort salem fanfiction 😅 i’ve been staying up too late reading fanfiction like some sort of 20 year old who can still do that without risking their health.

BUT i’ve been reading a lot of lesbian romance this year and i’m absolutely down to provide some recs! important disclaimer, however, i only read one (1) subgenre that’s best described as “ice queen lesbian milf office romance” ft an age gap between 21+ adults. understandably this is not everyone’s jam, but i am simply a 20something lesbian who thinks older women are really hot. what can i say

here are five recs in order of preference:

1. “truth and measure” by roslyn sinclair - the original adapted novel version of the same-titled legendary mirandy/devil wears prada fic. jules moretti is the long-suffering assistant of vivian carlisle, the CEO of a prestigious fashion magazine. then vivian gets pregnant mid divorce, with only jules by her side. and it only gets gayer from there.

listen. i genuinely could not stop reading truth and measure by roslyn sinclair. for three days, i woke up, vaguely did my adult tasks, and read for several hours in a state of what i can only call hysteria. the chemistry is insane. vivian is a hot mean loser with sad eyes and jules is insane for every choice she makes. btw i imagined the nanny!era lauren lane as vivian and current day alison scagliotti as jules. i had the time of my life. 10000/10

(also: i still highly recommend the published version to anyone who read the og fic - the story feels both brand new and wonderfully, nostalgically familiar.)

2. “the headmistress” by milena mckay - sam threadneedle, a closeted math teacher working at a conservative girls boarding school, hooks up with an insanely hot older woman at a conference in the city. three months later, that same hot older woman shows up at the school. woops, she’s the new principal and she’s there to cause problems! the prose is decent, the melodrama is fun to read, and the chemistry is zesty. solid 8/10

3. “the music and the mirror” by lola keeley - based on a supercat/supergirl fic of (i think) the same name. anna, the newest member of a prestigious ballet company, really wants to impress victoria, the former prima ballerina turned artistic director. well, she definitely does that! victoria decides that anna is going to be her company’s new star. this one has a lot of homoerotic partner dancing and really great side characters. still reads like a supercat fic, but honestly that’s another plus. 9/10

4. “the love factor” by quinn ivins - set in the 90’s, this book follows a closeted statistics professor and her TA, a very out lesbian political science phd candidate, as they expose a homophobic professor for falsifying data and fall in love. not as horny as others i’ve read, but still wildly tender and cathartic. i loved also how much empathy this book showed towards closeted lgbt folks. 7/10

5. “something to talk about” by meryl wilsner - also based on a mirandy fic, this book follows the misadventures of a hollywood showrunner and her assistant when they’re mistaken for a couple at a red carpet event. this book strained my suspension of disbelief the most—i simply don’t think everyone in emma’s life would be rooting for her to date her boss LMAO—but the chemistry is great and the pining is unreal. 7/10

[mariana-oconnor]

Fanfiction Deep Cuts

Tagged by @drgrlfriend Thank you!

tag a writer if you’d like them to share a never-before-seen playlist/moodboard/bit of background lore from one of their fics!

I don't do playlists or moodboards, so what we're looking at here is deleted scenes. So, hey, guys, guys, guys. Did you know that once upon a time there was a whole extra chapter to Silhouette?

Hell, I have a lot of deleted scenes from Silhouette and I've managed to dig out my external hard drive to find them. So here, have the original Chapter 4 of Silhouette, that both I and my beta agreed was unneeded and also stretched the suspension of disbelief a bit too far, even for an unapologetic identity porn fic. (I was so tempted to put the Tony & Bucky scene instead because I love it so much, but this one won out because Dog Cops).

Tagging anyone who wants to play because I never know who to tag for these things.

Silhouette Chapter 3.5: 30,000 feet

(under a cut to save your dash because it's almost 3k)

It’s weird, but since they’ve been chasing the world’s greatest assassination double act around, Bucky and Steve have wandered into some of the worst recesses and cesspools humanity has to offer: People trafficking in Barcelona, arms dealers in Alexandria, the cult leader and his brainwashing victims in Ottawa. Well, maybe that’s not the weird part. When you follow criminals, you’ve got to expect them to associate with criminals. The weird thing is that Hawkeye and Black Widow are taking half of these people down.

Bucky supposes that there’s no love lost between members of the criminal fraternity, but it feels different somehow. Even the marks that seem squeaky clean on the surface (the civil rights lawyer) turn out to be in the middle of some hideous act or three, and the evidence is always right there, like the pair of them plan their kills for the most incriminating times. All of which means that Bucky and Steve are getting a reputation for uncovering massive crimes and they’re doing very little of the legwork.

Not that they’re not doing any legwork. SHIELD hasn’t given them a jet yet, but the expenses they’re racking up on international flights have got to be raising some flags.

Take this one, for example. They’ve just been to Kuala Lumpur and now they’re following a lead to Rio de Janeiro. Coulson’s probably going to raise an eyebrow at that, but they’re pretty sure it’s a good tip. With the more they know about the pair, it’s got easier to tell what’s true and what’s not. It feels sort of like they’re getting to know them.

It’s been almost 6 months now. From what Coulson says, no one’s ever lasted this long before. Bucky knows that Hawkeye and the Widow must know about him and Steve, but he has no idea what they think of it. The small moments of communication they’ve had with them – the napkin, the tool dropped off at the hotel – indicate that they’re not angry about it. It seems more like a game to them and it’s starting to feel a bit like that to Bucky as well. He’s lost the anger at being led around, and he… maybe, slightly, is enjoying the challenge of it.

He shakes his head. This is one of the many reasons he hates long haul flights, even if this is one of the double decker planes that feels like something out of science fiction. Nothing to do but think, or watch whatever terrible TV or film is available.

Dog Cops, for crying out loud. Who watches Dog Cops?

The guy next to him, apparently. He’s been laughing for the past hour or so at what the animals on the screen are doing. Bucky doesn’t know what they’re saying, but he can’t imagine that it’s as funny as the guy seems to think it is.

It should be annoying, the constant chuckles and gasps, but it’s not. It’s not like Bucky’s going to sleep any time soon - sleeping sitting up is a surefire way to have nightmares since Afghanistan – and the guy’s got a nice laugh. Bucky’s the only one who thinks so, it seems, because the lady across the aisle is glaring every time the man opens his mouth. Not that it does any good. The guy in C62 is oblivious to everything but the antics of the four-legged detectives on the screen.

“Officer Wagsalot, no!” he says at what must be a crucial dramatic moment. It just looks like a dog licking another dog to Bucky.

“Shhh,” the woman across the way hisses. Bucky just looks at her. He’s got a very effective look. The only people it doesn’t work on are Steve, Hill, Coulson, and his family.

She shuts up.

The guy laughs again. At least someone’s having fun.

Steve’s got the window seat and Bucky’s trapped between him and the Dog Cops fan, which isn’t ideal, but he can endure it.

An hour later and Bucky’s given up on his book for the second time. He doesn’t know why he thought a thriller would be a good idea, given his day job, but it had been a choice between the latest adventures of Jack Montgomery, super spy, or one of those romantic novels with the soft pastel cover and the wishy-washy title. ’13 Minutes to Death’ had seemed more Bucky’s style.

Steve’s snoring isn’t helping matters either. Apparently the disapproving woman has run out of disapproval, though, because she doesn’t spare one of her judgemental looks for Steve, even though he sounds like a chainsaw. That’s the one thing the super soldier serum made worse, if anything. His old lungs couldn’t have held enough air to make this much noise.

Bucky takes a video just so he can guilt trip Steve later, and maybe to prove a point because Steve always complains that Bucky’s snoring keeps him up all night when they share a room – which is often because SHIELD are cheapskates.

“Friend of yours?”

It seems Dog Cops has finished because the guy has the headphones off and is looking right at Bucky. He’s got a weird beard that doesn’t suit his face at all, and wire rimmed glasses.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Not that I need more blackmail material, but why not?” C62 chuckles.

“He does sound like a machine gun.” Bucky laughs.

“So you ran out of dogs to watch, huh?” he asks. He wouldn’t normally start a conversation with a stranger these days, but what the hell else is there to do at 30,000 feet? And the guy’s attractive in an academic sort of way.

“I’m all caught up,” the guy says. “I’m away on business a lot, so I miss it half the time. Had to catch up on what’s going on with Officer Wagsalot and Mongrel Malone.” He looks at Bucky expectantly, as though he thinks that what he just says makes sense.

“Sorry, I don’t watch it,” Bucky admits. He feels a little guilty when the man’s face drops.

“What?! It’s a seminal work of American television!”

“I’m sure it is,” Bucky assures him. “But I travel a lot too. Not sure I’d be able to keep up.”

“You should try it. Only philistines don’t appreciate the greatness that is Dog Cops.” Bucky grins and nods past the guy at Ms Judgemental on the other side of the aisle.

“Some of our fellow passengers wouldn’t agree with you.” 63C follows the line of his gaze to give the woman a quick once over. She notices them looking and gives a very dismissive sniff as Bucky waves at her.

“She was probably worried about spoilers,” the guy tells him. At Bucky’s huff of disbelieve he holds up a hand. “That, my friend, is a true Dog Cops fan. We can tell our own. It’s like a secret society.”

“Right,” Bucky says. “Not sure she looked like a fan when she was shushing you.”

“She shushed me?” the guy asks. His face falls again. “I wasn’t really being that loud, was I? I’m terrible at judging volumes. My best friend’s always telling me to keep it down.”

“It was fine,” Bucky says. “I didn’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” the man scrabs a hand across the back of his neck, then brings it round to scratch at his beard. “Sorry if I kept you awake or something.”

“Not like I was going to get any sleep anyway,” Bucky tells him with a shrug. “I can’t really sleep on airplanes.”

“Tell me about it.”

They both glance over at Steve, who is way too big to fit comfortably in airplane seating these days and looks a lot like human spaghetti. But he’s still fast asleep.

“He can sleep anywhere,” Bucky says. “Always, since we were kids.” Bucky doesn’t mention that it had been out of necessity for all the trips to hospital and all the pills he was on that made him drowsy.

“Tell you what I like to do,” the guy says, distracting Bucky from his weird thoughts. “People watch.”

“Yeah.” Bucky looks around. “Hate to break it to ya, but no one’s really doing a whole lot.��� The guy shakes his head.

“Nah, not like that. I mean, everyone’s just sitting down, that’s dull. But like, there’s a word – sonder, it means that moment when you remember that everyone’s got their own lives, even if they’re just extras in yours.”

Bucky frowns, looking around.

“So I like to try to work out what those lives are. I mean, the woman we were talking about before, clearly she’s an archaeologist on her way to uncover a mythical lost city.” Bucky looks at her and tries to imagine it.

“I think she’s more likely a drugs mule,” he says. That startles a laugh from the other man.

“Dark. I like it,” he says. He looks over at the woman again and nods sagely. “You know, I think you might be right,” he says. “What about the skinny guy over there, with the headphones?” Bucky turns to look and considers the man for a second. His first instinct is student, but that’s obviously not the aim of this game.

“Alien,” he says finally. “He’s just here to observe us.”

They make up progressively weirder stories for each of the passengers. The old man two rows ahead is a retired dinosaur wrestler and the young girl behind them’s a time-travelling student from the future. Bucky almost chokes when the guy declares that a red-haired flight attendant is an international assassin.

“She’s a flight attendant,” Bucky points out.

“That’s what she wants you to think. Perfect cover. You get to travel all over the world and no one really notices you.”

Bucky considers the woman for a moment. She’s pretty in the polished way all flight attendants are pretty and she smiles her plastic smile as she serves the drunk man at the front another drink. She’s just another flight attendant.

“Nah… I don’t think you’re right about that one.” 62C smiles enigmatically. “So what did you think about me?” Bucky asks and the guy freezes.

“I… uh… I didn’t,” he says and Bucky smirks at the look on his face because he definitely did.

“Fine, then. What about now?”

“That would be cheating.”

“I didn’t know there were rules.”

“I already spoke to you. It’s supposed to be based entirely on looking at the person,” the guy says quickly. This is clearly going to be good.

“Well, I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

The man shifts uncomfortably and scratches his beard again.

“Go ahead. I swear I won’t get mad if you call me a lizard person.” Bucky sits back and gestures for the man to continue. It’s amusing watching him trip over his own tongue. 62C looks conflicted for a minute before shifting in his seat to face Bucky properly. He looks him up and down and it’s not a flirtatious glance or a joking one. Bucky tenses a little as he notices the sudden switch to serious.

“You’re American, New York from your accent,” the guy starts slowly. “I’d say ex-military – the way you sit and the way you look around a room. You prefer not to be noticed most of the time. You and your friend are very close, practically brothers.” He pauses, words hesitating on his tongue and Bucky takes a moment to draw in a quick, settling breath. The man looks him in the eye and shrugs. “And you’ve seen some shit.”

Bucky’s laugh is a little broken.

“I’ve seen some shit,” he agrees. His left hand curls into a fist. He sees the man look at it. It’s not a stare, not a question, just a glance and Bucky sort of wants to tell him, about the cave and HYDRA and the first arm, the one that was half rust and sent jolts of pain through him. He wants to talk about being strapped into the chair and knocked out with not enough anaesthetic. About coming to with someone drilling into his shoulder. His hand is shaking.

“Sorry,” 62C says quickly, holding up his hands in the universal non-threatening gesture. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” Bucky says. “It was a while ago. I… You were right about the army. I lost my arm in combat.” The truth fades into the civilian-friendly lie. “They didn’t have a lot of medical facilities where I was so…”

“But at least you got a cool cyborg arm,” the guy counters. It’s not the sympathy or pity Bucky was expecting and it makes him laugh again. 62C takes that as permission to continue. “I mean, that thing’s snazzy. Bet it comes in really useful when you need to punch through walls.”

“Which is something I do a lot,” Bucky concedes. It hasn’t come up, but he supposes it might. “So what do you do? Psychic?”

“Nah. Can’t you tell? I’m in a Mariachi band.”

The red-headed flight attendant comes over to offer them another drink and the conversation ends naturally. It’s only a few minutes before the pilot announces that they’re arriving in Dubai for their overnight layover.

As the man, and Bucky hadn’t even got his name, stands up to grab his bag from the overhead locker their eyes meet and they both chuckle.

“Thanks for the company,” 62C offers, holding out his hand. Bucky shakes it gratefully, feeling warm calluses.

“I should be thanking you,” Bucky tells him. “Otherwise I would have just been stuck with this one and his snoring.” To his left, Steve is blinking awake. “Don’t suppose you’re heading to Rio?”

“Nah. Dubai’s my home for the next few days,” 62C replies.

“Strange that we just spent seven hours together and now we’ll never meet again,” Bucky says. He tries not to be sad at the prospect.

“Maybe not,” the guy shrugs. “Maybe we already did and we just don’t remember it – in a bar, or at a café. Or maybe you drove right past me in the street. Who knows? The world is full of weird coincidences.”

The doors are opened and everyone starts shuffling off. Bucky loses sight of 62C in the crowd.

“Make a friend.” Steve asks, grinning like the little shit that he is. Bucky elbows him.

“Yeah, we bonded over your terrible snoring!”

“I don’t snore,” Steve protests, and Bucky just pulls out his phone and presses play. Steve listens for a few seconds before cringing.

“Separate rooms tonight?”

“You read my mind.”

*

When Clint gets to the rendezvous point in the back corridors of the airport, Nat is waiting for him, peeling off her flight attendant gear to get into her new outfit, and wrapping the head scarf over her hair. A change in her make-up and she’ll be a completely new person.

Clint can’t get the stupid beard off his face quick enough.

“This stuff itches,” he tells her. He’s sure he spent half his conversation with Bucky scratching at it. The man must have thought he had some sort of skin disease. “And I think it’s given me a rash. Next time I want the old glue again.”

“I don’t complain about the wigs,” she points out.

“You’re not allergic to the wigs!”

She hasn’t mentioned his conversation with Barnes, and she probably won’t. He knows she doesn’t approve. She thinks he’s getting too involved and he is. When she’d seen that he’d deliberately arranged it so that his seat on the flight was next to Barnes and Rogers she’d given him her most piercing look, and she does keep glancing at him like she’s worried. It had been a risk, a huge stupid risk, but he hadn’t quite been able to resist. And it had been worth it. The flight had been ten times more interesting with Barnes to talk to, even with Rogers’ ridiculous snoring.

She huffs and grasps his face to examine it.

“You’re not allergic. It’s only red because you’ve been scratching at it. Now get changed. We’ve got a job to do and a time limit.”

Clint glares at her, but takes the duffle bag she holds out and starts stripping. He’s going from travelling academic to wealthy business man. It’s an easier change than Nat’s.

It is disturbingly easy to get out of the airport without going through security when you know what you’re doing.

“I still can’t believe you got us a job on the way to another job.” He hops into the new trousers. They are apparently very expensive, going by the label, which Clint’s actually heard of, but they don’t look it. “This is not what overnight layovers are for, Nat. They are for sleeping. I need to sleep!”

“If you hadn’t been busy flirting with Barnes then you could have been asleep on the flight,” Nat points out. Clint doesn’t really have a witty comeback for that, so he just pouts until she throws his shirt into his face.

“Put your shirt on. I don’t want to be arrested for indecent exposure.” He rolls his eyes, but does as she says. They tuck away their usual arsenal of weaponry. With the less revealing clothes, Nat gets to hide more than usual. With what she’s wearing today, she could hide pretty much anything, which could be useful as they’re gate-crashing an evil international business man convention today. Good times.

[deering24]

Sullivan/Devine challenge, pt. 2 (Long Rant--Abandon Hope All Ye Who Must Clutch At Your “True Father Brown Fans Don’t Criticize” Pearls.)

Don: "She is not the person that you think she is."

David: "She's worried you have the wrong idea about her."

Don: "Everything about her is wrong."--Ghost Story

Mrs. Treadwell:  "I'm - I'm very fond of Mr. Carpenter, of course. Everybody is."

Lydecker: "I'm not. I'll be hanged if I am." --Laura

Several A03 fan-fic writers have done a solid job (certainly way better than the FB writing crew) of explaining Mrs. Devine's insecurities, awkwardness, previous marriage, and desperation to have a better deal than life has handed her so far.  But unfortunately, their best efforts can't make up for the fact that 1) her character is now all over the map, yet still not likeable;  2) there is still something rottenly-patronizing at her heart that no amount of talent, retconning or excuses can make up for. She continues to come off like the FB writers figured female viewers were stereotypical pathetic fans with a thing for Sullivan who would jest love any old adorkable, fake-ass-quirky lurve interest.

Worse yet, she's already proved three crucial times canon-wise that she is not the truly unconventional, intelligent, selfless, woman-of-substance people want her to be. In “The Beast Of Wedlock,” she and Brenda wander around the countryside looking for a killer beast/whatever with no weapons, backup, or help. Someone has already been gruesomely murdered, so shouldn't they have been ready for a human psycho nuthead at the least? Nope--Devine and Brenda act like there's no threat whatsoever. (The TV show Endeavor did a terrific ep. about a killer animal that was scary, suspenseful, and twisty--everything this episode was not. And I would have given anything to see Devine and Brenda dropped into that. Hell, the Scooby Gang shows more sense of danger than these two--and they're supposed to be comedic. 😝) In “The Hidden Man,” all Devine needed to do was pretend to be Father Brown--but she wanted to show off so much, she couldn't even manage that modest task. Which of course led to Flambeau getting jailed, Sullivan getting beat up, and Father Brown almost losing his life to a psycho.

And The Serpent Within was definitely Devine's Blip; her stake through the heart; her silver bullet; the sword to her neck--the episode that proved how hopeless she really is. (And sorry--fan-fiction writers have done their level best to explain her actions here, but it speaks volumes that nobody can really make sense of--or excuse--her.) She should have risen to the occasion and really proved her worth. Instead she ups the rock-stupid ante because her actor's ego again puts everyone at risk--this time even worse than before. Who did she think Father Brown was up against--Girl Guides high on their Thin Mint stash? Did she ever consider that maybe someone in Kembleford might have seen her on stage?  And did she really think that gangsters who were dropping bodies like they breathed--and had killed to frame Sullivan--would listen to her pleas for mercy? (Sweet Honkin' Jesus. That trope was laughed off movie and TV screens by the 1960's, and no one needs that mess coming back from the dead now.)  Can you imagine what Lady Felicia, Mrs. McCarthy, Sid, or Bunty would have done in this situation? (But, then, they would have had enough common sense to not get caught in the first place. 😝) To put this in proper perspective, think of Sid in "The Upcott Fraternity." Was he rolling around proclaiming he was the mostest dedicated humblest devouterest trainee priest ever--"Lookit me!! Lookit me!!"--and making the case all about his undercover talents? No? Well, then--case closed. Devine is still a terrible Father Brown associate. At the best, she is Damsel Scrappy--at her worst, she is Too Dumb To Live/The Ditz.

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DamselScrappy

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TooDumbToLive

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheDitz

And she still ain't a good love interest for Sullivan, who certainly deserves someone with more common sense, true caring, intelligence, and real selflessness. Come on, guys--are folks so desperate that Sullivan be in love that they'll settle for this hopelessly-retrograde, endlessly-simpering, vapid, self-centered idiot? Why? Can't FB writers (or fan-fiction ones) come up with better, more-credible alternatives? Even worse, does anyone really want to see the enticingly-tortured, officiously dashing, needing-real-love, caring-down-deep Sullivan turned into "Mr. Women's Institute/Kembleford's Own 'Honey-Do'??!?!!?"

Mark Twain perfectly nailed this kind of bad writing ages ago (in “Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses”--a great how-to piece on good fiction writing everyone should read. ASAP.) https://public.wsu.edu/~campbelld/engl368/fenimorecooper.pdf He said everything that needs to be said, so I'm just gonna paraphrase:

"She has no  . . . order, system, or logical sequence. She is confusedly drawn, and by her acts and words she proves she is not the sort of person the author swears up and down on a sky-high stack of Bibles that she is. Her humor is pathetic;  her pathos is funny.  Her conversations are indescribable;  and her love-scenes are fuckin' _odious_."

Nice try, guys. But tl;dr: "Upstairs Space For Let" Devine still sucks. And one can only hope her "Knight-In-Shining-Armor" teams up with a suitably-irate dragon--and "Dracaryses" her insufferable self into oblivion. Fooey.

[throughalleternity]

Oh my god, its like you are reading my mind because I always wanted to read a fic where genderfluid!Lucy goes on T but was too afraid to ask nerdsbianhokie because Im not Sure if they would be comfortable with it. So what are your thoughts on Lucy on T? Would they be looking forward to it from the Start, or would they be unsure if its the right Thing at first? And I would love to read a fic where the three of them (Lucy/Leon, Maggie and Alex) are happy and full of suspense watching the first changes that Happen to Lucy on T.

Yayy I love that! I haven't explicitly written Lucy on T, but I def think some of the Lucys I write try it. I have a doc from way back in April 2021 about it and then I just didn't know what I wanted from it or if other people would want it, so it never went anywhere.

I'm going to dump some thoughts below, and I have another ask about Lucy on T that I'm mulling over. As for a fic—I would like to write something, and I might post a mini fic here rather than something longer on AO3 (unless someone says that AO3 is just easier to read on?)

(Also, NerdsbianHokie said that there are very few things they will be uncomfortable with, in terms of prompts/asks, and they'll just say if it's not something they can write. So, just as a general thing, I wouldn't get super worried about making them uncomfortable with asks.)

Leon is confident but a little nervous about T, in the sense that it’s something new and slightly unpredictable, and he’s thinking about Alex and Maggie’s reactions too. He brings it up like “Hey… so I’ve started thinking about trying T”. And they’re super supportive! Which isn’t a total surprise—they had briefly brought up medical transition after Lucy came out, but she hadn’t been sure at the time, so they were like, okay we’ll go with the flow and see. (That convo and processing took longer than that, and they were unsure of how their relationships would look, but now they’ve gotten much more comfortable.)

They all do some research on their own and then talk about it so they can feel pretty prepared going in, know what’s more permanent and what’s more reversible, etc. And since Lucy came out, they’ve gotten better at being more open about their feelings/worries, so their communication is a lot better for this. 

Lucy worries about Maggie and Alex not being attracted to her after changes on T, but Maggie’s like “Have you seen my exes? I’ve been attracted to so many different types of people—aliens included. That’s never been something I’ve been limited by.” Alex is like “You know, it made me think about how people change as they age. Or things that can happen with our bodies just randomly, or because of our jobs. And I can’t imagine any of that changing how I feel about you. I know that’s not exactly the same thing, but… it’s you I love, not your body. …Wait, I mean, fuck, that’s not—I also love your body, just—” And before Alex can dig herself deeper, Lucy laughs and says she knows what she means and that she feels better about it.

Changes start slow since he’s on a low dose, which is good because he wants to feel things out and let Alex and Maggie adjust too, but he’s also a little impatient for some changes.

I usually think of him as stopping T after some time because he’s happy with how he feels and how he can be read as more ambiguous now. There are things he misses about being on T, like being more vascular and building muscle easier. But where he’s at, it’s easier to lean masc or fem in terms of presentation, and Lucy doesn’t really want more changes. 

Voice changes are what he was mostly looking forward to. It drops gradually (his voice hardly cracks, thankfully) so it’s hard to notice, but a few months in Lois and Clark come by and they’re like, are you sick? Which was really euphoric to hear. And with some voice training to push it up or down, he’s a lot happier with how he sounds. Alex and Maggie are excited for him, since they know his voice was a big source of dysphoria, and well, after they adjust, they find it pretty hot.

[ggukkiereads]

Hello!! Just a few days ago I stumble upon your blog and I'm wondering if you have some recommendations for Hybrid AUs, much appreciated if it is an OT7 and completed, but if so I will still be so thankful. (I just need some cure from the stress that modules brings) Thank You in Advance (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

🌷 Hello! welcome to my mini fic-reading land. I’ve actually received asks for Hybrid AUs (I pinned the requests in the navi) but I just have a very messy draft.

But to help you with your stress, I think I can share a few of my ongoing reads (sorry they won’t be complete but they’re OT7). But, I added completed ones I could remember too (●'◡'●)

*note: will edit this later and organize this per member - maybe add other fics I’ll remember*

Fic Recs | BTS Hybrid AUs

→ A Place Called Home @agustdakasuga -  OT7 x Reader

series [27/27] | 88k | Hybrid AU, Poly AU, Soulmate AU, Romance Humor | Fluff

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

→  If I Can Never Give You Peace @candlewaxandp0lar0ids - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 17.6k+ | Mafia AU, Enemies to Lovers | A (so far)

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and her father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

🌷ggukkienote: I am so hooked on this (because I am a sucker for Mafia AUs too). This is such a great story and the OC is really different from the usual OCs. Very interesting.

→  Eunoia @wishesunderthestars -  OT7 x Reader

series [15/?] | 100k+ (I just assumed this, masterpost doesn’t have wc but it’s 6k per chapter or more?) | Director!Reader, hurt/comfort | fluff, eventual smut

You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job. You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

→  Restitution @cloudteawrites - OT7 x Reader

series [7/?] | 48k+ | slow burn, poly, mystery, romance

when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

→ Lacuna @barbika1508 - Jungkook x Reader

series [42/42] | 324.3k | Hybrid AU, check for TW | Fluff, Angst, Smut

Lacuna - (n.) a blank space, a missing part

Y/N just wanted to go back home, to enjoy her peace and quiet away from problems and people. But typically, her luck strikes as she stumbles upon a horrific scene of two guys mistreating an already beaten down hybrid. Will she take matters into her own hands and help him? Or let someone else help along the way???

🌷 This is on AO3 and I got a recent ask about author’s tumblr.  So if you prefer AO3 you can check their profile

→ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne- OT7 x Reader

series [12/?] | 88k+ | Hybrid AU, fluff, angst, smut |

In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

🌷 This is on AO3. I don’t normally reco AO3 since my blog is focused on tumblr fics but someone sent an ask about this so I’m including it

→ Inferiority Complex @starlightauroras-writes - Jimin x Reader

series [10/?] | 88k+ | political themes, themes of abuse (hybrids) | A, S

You had never liked hybrids. You disagreed with their very existence, and you never wanted to have anything to do with them. And then one day, you discovered a hybrid who was more scared of you than you were of him, and everything changed as you realised you were the only hope he had…

→ Sanctuary @chimchimsauce - Jimin x Reader

series [16/16] | 20k |  Wolf Hybrid!Jimin, Barista!OC, feat sanctuary staff Taehyung, hurt/comfort | F, A

YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she's been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary's Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

→  Summer Nights @marginalmadness - Jungkook x Reader

series [4/4] | 23k | Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance | F, S

A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

→  Risk it All @/httpjeon - Jungkook x Reader

series [5/5] | 8.3k  | hybrid au, alpha wolf!jungkook | A, F, S

ripped from your family, you find yourself in a warehouse filled with predators. just your luck, you’re right across from a caged alpha wolf.

🌷 (I linked Chapter 5 because for some reason others couldn’t find this chapter so they thought it’s still incomplete)

→  Outro Love is Not Over @kiirokero - Hoseok x Reader

series [12/?] |  Daycare Teacher!Hoseok x Single Mom!Reader

You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho.  But you’re a human.  You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can.  So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

→  It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - TaeKook x Reader

two shot [2/2] | 11k | dom/sub themes, heat cycles | S

What’s better than one dogboy lover? Two dogboy lovers. But when Tae and Jungkook seem unusually clingy, it can only mean one thing. That time of the month has snuck up on you and your dogboy lovers do not want to share.

🌷 Also try their other Jungkook hybrid series Out of the Blue

→  Peculiar Park @daydreamindollie -  OT7 x Reader

series [9/?] | 38k+ | imagines, slice of life | Writer!Reader, Psychologist!Reader, imagines | fluff

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist who takes in seven hybrids on one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

→ Yeouiju @nomseok - Namjoon x Reader

one shot | 33.7k | Mythical AU, Hybrid AU (if you squint), suspense | A, F, S

you find an ancient stone in the middle of the mountains and bring it home with you, oblivious to the consequences of taking a dragon’s yeouiju.

→ Beautiful Stranger @/nomseok - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 19k | circus AU | A, S, F

your dream is to take care of animals for the rest of your life in the big city, making sure that they’re cared for. but you stumble upon a malnourished, rare tiger in your local circus, and you can’t help but want to take care of him.

→ Evolution of You and I @readyplayerhobi - Jimin x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | kind of epistolary (letters), chat, childhood friends | F

For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

→  Fish are Friends @httpjeon - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | seahorse hybrid!taehyung | A, S, F

after moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore…only he isn’t quite human.

🌷 you know seahorses mate for life and it’s the male that gets pregnant? Interesting huh

→  Pink Panther @gimmesumsuga - Seokjin x Reader

one shot | 13k | boss-employee | F, S

The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are.

→  Ragdoll @ausblack - Jimin x Reader

series [17/17] | Hybrid AU, College AU | F, A

As you were studying to obtain your medical & veterinary degree, your professor came up with the idea of organizing an internship - where you found yourself side by side with a sick hybrid that needed nothing other that complete care.

→  Jagged + Catnap  @opaljm - Jimin x Reader

one shot + sequel | 18k |  jaguar/black panther!jimin, sand dune cat!reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, established relationship (sequel)| S, F, slight A

The pretty little sand cat hybrid Jimin has been in love with for the past year experiences her first heat and Jimin would love nothing more than to be the one to guide her through it and breed her with his kittens.

🌷 there’s also a possible spin-off for Taehyung (Eye of the Tiger)

→  Owner @jessikahathaway - Jungkook x Reader

series [6/?] | 17.4k | Fake Dating AU, Hybrid AU, based on Kimi Wa Petto (Japanese anime) | F, S, A

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

→ Loving Him Was Red + Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 12.8k+ | enemies to lovers, childhood friends (sorta), college au, jock!jungkook, unrequited love (for OC) | S, F, A

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

I would like to recommend the catalog of these writers:

@ditttiii - so I realize I’m following them on AO3 when I realized the fics looked familiar 🤭. They have an ongoing series called Enchanted to Meet You which you might want to check out if you like Soulmate AUs too! I recently reblogged a Jungkook two-shot comfort fic (hybrid au too) so I recommend going through their masterlist!

@aroseforyoongi - who I discovered because of Gossamer (KTH). It was completed but I think it’s up for re-write/re-post? You can try the others:

Navy Blue - Jungkook [completed]

Forever Yours - Yoongi [one shot, prequel to Navy Blue]

Let Me Love You- Jungkook [one shot]

@magicalsalamander - another favorite author of mine I just feel like I’m reading a great tale every time I start on a series or one shot. They have great fics with supernatural themes too

Rabbit on the Moon - Jungkook | if you’re in the mood for police officer Jungkook [6/6]

The Act of Persuasion - Seokjin | if you are in the mood for Single Dad AU x Arranged Marriage too [one shot]

Firefly that Guards the Fox - Taehyung | if you are in the mood for mystery [11/12 - just epilogue left]

Kitten’s Little Flame - Yoongi | if you like BF to Lovers between dragon and a cat [6/6]

There’s more so please check their Masterlist

@hollyhomburg - I just love Of Fire and Love (hello dragon!yoongi and baby!jungkook? 🥺) But you can check:

their masterlist of all their hybrid fics

Dance to This series which I’ve added to fic recs based on an ask about stories that include members/readers with disability.

Don’t care if it Hurts - Jimin | this is probably my favorite (again I’m a sucker for Mafia AUs) , guard dog hybrid!jimin [12/13, just epilogue]

@angelicyoongie - I got hooked after reading their stories on AO3 but they have tumblr too! Check their masterlist for ongoing hybrid fic (Abundance - OT7)  but these are completed ones:

Desolate - Yoongi, grumypy cat hybrid [14/14]

Out of the Woods - Namjoon, wolf hybrid, strangers to lovers [3/3]

@worldwidebt7 - if you like webtoons! I read parts of Jungkook’s webtoon and I think currently we’re on Yoongi’s story. Access it here

@jincherie - One of the first hybrid fics I remember encountering is Inheritance (MYG). Other fics:

Perihelion - Hoseok, college, roommate, enemies [2/?]

Butterfingers - Namjoon, teacher au, this is cuuuute READ IT if you’re looking for something fluffy [one shot]

4 o’ clock - Taehyung, single dad au (I included this in the singel dad fic recs too) [3/?]

Under the Bridge - Jungkook, found jungkook under the bridge [one shot]

@whitesparrows97 - a writer I discovered because of a Yoongi soulmate fic but I found that they also have other hybrid fics:

Cat’s Cradle - Yoongi, bestfriend [5/5]

Underdog - Taehyung, shifter, brought home what she thought a stray dog [5/5]

@foxymoxynoona - and what would my reco be without foxymoxy? So they have tumblr but their works are on AO3. I’ve listed their current works here but I didn’t include their completed works which are must-reads:

Sugar Fairy - Jungkook, mating, adopted hybrids [48/48]

A Sea of Indigo - Jungkook, ex-fighter [48/48] ⭐⭐⭐

@therealmintedmango - They have a whole masterlist of their hybrid!au fics. I recently finished Kingdom Come and I always remember Jimin from King (for some reason)

@joonbird - check their Zodiac Hybrid Masterlist of one shot per member

There are more (usually one shot per member) but I’ll probably put them in another Fic Rec List for Hybrid AUs. Sorry this list is kind of all over the place (not even organized per member 🤭). But good luck with your modules and I hope these help!

(❁´◡`❁)

[storiesforallfandoms]

and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

[that-disabled-radfem]

Happy back-to-school y’all

I’ve attended and worked at a couple of super liberal universities. I avoid the gender studies departments for obvious reasons and I still had a lecture in which the female prof gave a brief overview of TERFs and proclaimed her hatred of JKR. Being openly critical of gender ideology, the porn industry, kinks, and ‘sex work’ are the kind of things that can ruin your future in academia. Not to mention the fact that any speech or actions that could be labelled transphobic (ie. defining woman as adult human female) can get you a suspension according to many universities anti-hate-speech policies. 

So, here’s a list of small and smallish (small in terms of overt TERFery, some may require more effort than others) radical feminist actions you can take as a university student:

(this is a liberal arts perspective so if you’re a stem gal this may not apply. but also if you’re in stem maybe you can actually acknowledge that women are oppressed as a sex class without getting kicked out of school. idk)

(Note for TRAs hate reading this: One of the core actions of radical feminism is creating female networks. This is not so that we can brainwash people into being anti-trans. This is because female solidarity is necessary for creating class consciousness and overturning patriarchy. It is harder to subjugate the female sex when we stand together.)

Take classes with female profs. Multiple sections of a class? Pick the one taught by a woman. Have to chose an elective? Only look at electives offered by women. When classes have low numbers they get cancelled. When classes are super popular, universities are forced to consider promoting the faculty that teach them

Make relationships with these female profs. Go to office hours. Chat after class. Ask them about their research. Building female networks is sooooo important!

Actually fill in your end of year course feedback forms. Profs often need these when applying for tenure or applying for a job at another university so it is very important (especially with young and/or new profs) that you fill out these forms and give specific examples of how great these women are. Go off about what you love about them! Give her a brilliant review because you know the idiot boy in that class who won’t shut up even though he knows nothing is going to give her only negative feedback because he thinks any woman who leaves the house is a feminazi b*tch. 

(note: obviously don’t go praising any prof - female or male - who is blatantly racist, homophobic, etc.)

(Also if you have shitty male profs write down all the horrible things they have done and said and put it in these forms because once a shitty man gets tenure they are virtually untouchable)

(also also, leave a good review on rate my profs or whatever other thing students use to figure out if they want to take classes. idc if you copy paste your feedback from the formal review. rave about the class to your friends. do what you can to get good enrolment for that prof for reasons above.)

Participate in class. Talk over the male students. Say what you mean and mean it. Call out the boys when they say dumb shit

Write about women. If you have the option to make a text written by a woman your primary text in an essay, do it. Pick the female-centred option if you’re writing an exam-essay with multiple prompts. (Profs often look at what works on their syllabus are being written about/engaged with as a marker of whether to keep those texts the next time they teach the class. If there are badass women on your syllabus, write about them to keep them on the syllabus) Use female-written secondary sources whenever possible. 

(pro tip: many women in academia are more than happy to talk to you about their papers. expand your female networks by reaching out to article authors through email and asking them about their cool shit)

Get your essays published! Many departments have undergrad journals you can publish in. This will ensure more people read about the women you write about and will demonstrate to the department that people like learning about women

Consider trying to publish your undergrad essay with a legit peer-reviewed journal. If you can do it, your use of female-written secondary sources boosts the reputations of the women who wrote those secondary sources. Also this helps generally to increase scholarship about women’s writing!

Present your papers at conferences! Many schools have their own undergraduate/departmental conferences that you can present at. Push yourself by submitting to outside conferences. Bring attention to women’s works by presenting your papers. Take a space at a conference that would otherwise be reserved for mediocre men

Talk to your profs and/or your department and/or your university about mandating the inclusion of female works in classes if this isn’t something they do already

Sit next to other women in your classes. Talk to them. Make friends. Form study groups. Proofread each other’s essays. Give each other knowing looks when the boys are being dumb. Just interact with other women! Build those female networks!

Be generous with your compliments. A female classmate and I were talking to a prof after class and the classmate told me (out of the blue) that I always have such interesting things to say. I think about that whenever I’m lacking confidence about my academic skills. Compliment the women in your classes for speaking up, for sharing their opinions, for challenging your classmates/profs, for doing cool presentations, etc.

Talk to other women about sexist things going on on campus. Make everyone aware of the sexist profs. Complain about how there are many more tenured men than tenured women. Go on rate my professor and be explicit about how the sexist profs are sexist

Be active on campus and in societies. If a society has an all male executive or is male-dominated, any women who join that society make it less intimidating for more women to join. Run for executive positions! Bring in more women! 

(Pro tip: Many societies’ elections are super gameable. You can be eligible to vote in a society election sometimes just by being a student at that university — even without having done anything with the society before. Other societies might just require that you’ve taken a class in a particular department or attended a society event. (Check the society’s governing documents.) Use those female networks you’ve been building. If you can bring three or four random people to vote for you, that might be enough for you to win. Societies have trouble meeting quorum (the minimum number of people in attendance to do votes) so it is really super achievable to rig an election with a few friends. And don’t feel bad about this. The system is rigged against women so you have every right to exploit loopholes!)

(Also feel free to go vote “non-confidence”/“re-open election” if only shitty men are running. Too often people see that only candidates they don’t like are running and so they give up. But you can actually stop them getting elected)

Your campus may have a LGBTQIA+alphabetsoup society. That society definitely needs more L and B women representation. It may be tedious to argue with the nb straight dudes who insist that it’s fine to use “q***r” in the society’s posters and that attraction has nothing to do with genitals, but just imagine what could happen if we could make these sorts of societies actually safe spaces for same-sex attracted women and advocated for our concerns

Attend random societies’ election meetings. Get women elected and peace out. (or actually get involved but I’m trying to emphasize the lowest commitment option with this one)

Write for the campus newspaper. Write about what women are doing - women’s sports, cool society activities, whatever. Review female movies, books, tv shows, local theatre productions. Write about sexism on campus. We need more female by-lines and more stories about women

Get involved with your campus’s sexual assault & r*pe hotline/sexual assault survivor’s centre/whatever similar organization your campus has if you can. This is hard work and definitely not for everyone (pls take care of yourself first, especially if you are a survivor)

(If your campus doesn’t have an organization for supporting survivor’s of sexualized violence, start one! This is probably going to be a lot of hard work though, so don’t do it alone)

Talk to your student council about providing free menstrual hygiene products on campus if your campus doesn’t already do this. If your campus provides free condoms (which they probs do), use that as leverage (ie. ‘sex is optional, menstruation is not. so why do we have free condoms and no free pads?’)

If you’re an older student, get involved with younger students (orientation week and such activities are good for this). Show the freshman that you can be a successful and well-liked woman without shaving your legs, wearing heels, wearing make-up, etc. Mentor these young women. Offer to go for coffee or proofread essays. 

Come to class looking like a human being. Be visibly make-up less, unshaven, unfeminine, etc. to show off the many different ways of being a woman

Talk to the custodial staff and learn their names. (I know there are men who work in this profession, but it is dominated by low-income women) Say hi in the hallways, ask them about their lives, show them they’re appreciated

Be explicit with your language. When you are talking about sex-based oppression, say it. Don’t say ‘sex worker’ when you mean survivor of human trafficking. This tip is obviously a bit tricky in terms of overt TERFyness, so use your best judgement

That’s all from me for now! Feel free to add your suggestions and remember that feminism is about action

[lilkermit14]

Kinktober day 2:

Against a wall || Suspension || Threesome

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Santiago Garcia

-----------------------------------

Your girlfriends had joked with you about how you're not gonna be able to get laid at all during your year long deployment. What did they call it––the year of the hand? Bad prediction on their part.

“Merida she’s good at this,” Santi moans, his grip on your head tight as he thrusts in and out of your mouth in tune with Frankie behind you who’s cock is nudging against your cervix. Frankie makes an extra hard thrust against that one spot emphasizing his words, “just as good as her pussy.”

You sob around Santi’s cock, drool dripping down your chin and tears flooding your eyes, feeling so good about being sandwiched between these two men after three months. You were the only woman on Delta Force, recruited as an expert marksman and sniper for the team. Despite being the only girl, you were rarely reminded of the fact by the five men you worked with. Rarely as in only one of them, the leader Tom or rather Redfly, seemed to enjoy the pleasure of reminding you of your “place” whenever you tried to tell him his plan was shit. All the other guys were fine though, the miller brothers––Benny or Big Ben and Will or Ironhead––were quick in becoming your best friends making you wheeze out laughing at their antics.

But the ones that always interested you the most were Frankie named Catfish for his facial hair and Santi referred to as Pope. You could not help but feel attracted to both of them the first time you met them, making you realize it was possible to be attracted to two men at the same time. You were close with both of them but not in the same way as the Miller brothers––it always felt different. After all, they’re the one that gave you your callsign “chica”

It had been a surface level tension until tonight, just something you could somewhat feel with the way their eyes would sometimes rake over you and on the occasions when you brushed one of their arms. They shared the same ideas about you and you had similar ideas about the two of them––but you had no clue if they were interested in sharing.

Your mind at first had crossed off the idea of sharing because you didn’t think Frankie or Santi had any sort of attraction for one another nor shared desire for the same sex. And most guys were opposed to sharing what they claimed as their girl so it felt like you had to choose. Choosing was the most difficult task you ever faced, as you were attracted to both men for a reason. They were both stellar guys in their own way and that made it impossible. Frankie was a sweet but shy pilot that could turn intense in an instant with freckles that dusted his sun kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a well built body that was softer in some parts that only made you desire him more. Pope on the other hand was a confident flirty man that could always make you blush and swoon with his sing-song voice, well built broad frame, and gloriously tan and smooth skin. What made it worse is that both men had the softest plushest lips you had a deep desire to kiss.

Built up with frustration you ended up phoning home to lament to one of your girlfriends over your internal struggle––not sparing any details about what you wish you could do to the men. You had thought you were alone in the call center, so you didn’t spare any details about wanting to get railed by the both of them at the same time. You may not have been alone.

Tonight your team was free for the night and unless anything came up tomorrow morning too. You intended on taking some much needed time for yourself and relaxing in your quarters which were only occupied by you due to the fact you were the only women on Delta Force. Privileges of the sausage fest you guessed. It was really a privilege when you were frustrated and oh so lonely, PT shorts down rubbing your clit and fingering your cunt in an attempt to imagine Santi and Frankie finally having their way with you. You were nearing your orgasm when you heard a sturdy knock on your door. You groan in frustration knowing you now have to stop, pulling up your panties and shorts and trying to not look like you were just about to cum.

Bracing yourself, you open the door expecting a visit from another one of the females on base or even one of the Miller brothers. You were not expecting Santi and Frankie to be standing there with a peculiar look in their eyes––shit you were just masturbating to them. Santi begins letting himself in, “Thoughtful of you to open up Chica.”

Passing by you smooth as ever and wrapping his arm around your shoulder to guide you back into your room, he begins rambling on about something involving Tom. You glance back at the door and see Frankie enter behind you shutting the door behind him––that dark look that turns you on in his eyes. Fuck,

“So, we have much to discuss with you right Frankie?” Santi begins, sitting you down on the bed you were squirming in moments before, making you realize that the room has a tinge of sex scent to it. Frankie nods, “yep”

“Okay,” you agree, believing that this was probably some weird scam to see if you could call your sister in law and request some more homemade chocolate fudge in the next care package, “hurry up I got things to do.”

“Like fingering your own pussy to the thought of me and Santi?”

Your eyes must be the size of saucers and you feel instant heat and embarrassment. Santi chides, “don’t even deny it's loud on the phone and it smells like someone was having fun in here.”

“Oh my god” you exclaim, embarrassed and ashamed that you’ve been found out, “I’m so sorr––”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Santi interrupts with a cheery smile and for a moment you think they’re both going to let you down easy and just pretend this never happened. But then his face shifts to a serious tone, “just take your clothes off now.”

And that’s how you ended up with a cock in your mouth and pussy––destroying you in the best ways. Santi lets out a groan gripping your head harder, “you better hope no one causes problems tomorrow morning, because that phone call gave us plenty of ideas we want to try out with you.”

You whine around his cock, your juices dripping onto Frankie’s knowing you’re gonna be so sore if they even do half the stuff you mentioned in the call. They had already taken turns eating you out asking which one of them was the best, knowing you couldn’t choose with the way one of them had to hold you still while the other got his fill. A spank to your bum makes you gasp, as Frankie grips onto your hips and ass, bracing himself to pound into you at this pace, “of course you like that dirty slut, keeping secrets like that.”

“She didn’t even know we discussed what we would do to her if we got the chance,” you look up at Pope an absolute mess of tears and spit as he makes you gag on his cock, “how we wanted to ruin her, do a better job of keeping her satisfied than that hand.”

You suck Santi harder and he lets out a cuss in Spanish you don’t know, veins popping in his neck as he tips his head back, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Come down her throat like she wanted––c’mon,” Frankie exclaims in stuttered breaths focusing on making you come and doing so well. You look up at Santi at the right time for him to glance down when you give a particular hard suck and it’s over. Santi lets out a pained groan, fingers digging into your hair as he shoots down your throat, shaking as he mutters your name. You take everything he gives you, swallowing and savoring every suck until he gets too sensitive and pulls himself out of your mouth.

You don’t even have a moment to adjust before Frankie is pulling you up against his chest, fucking up into you in a frantic pace that has you nearly screaming. You register Santi muttering something about him being a show off but can’t be bothered to care when you feel your orgasm building. You grab onto his arms wrapped around your torso in an attempt to brace yourself feeling it build up impossibly––just needing an extra push as it can’t seem to get over that edge. So fucked out of your mind you stutter out, “clit” praying that one of them will get the message.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you see Santi dip down in front of you and feel his lips wrap around your clit, sucking and teasing it. Your vision goes white and you wail out their names as your whole world topples over and you get consumed by red hot pleasure. Your mouth remains open, nothing coming out as your legs shake, unable to withstand Frankie’s cock and Santi’s mouth on you. You tighten around Frankie’s cock and you register him cursing as he thrusts into you nearing his peak. The waves keep going, evening out as Santi still sucks on your clit and you register Frankie’s shout of your name and feel his see in you––thank you to whoever invented the IUD.

Eventually coming to and being sensitive you whine and feel your clit be released after one last hard suck, and feel Frankie shift behind you and his cock leaving your body. Losing control of your body. You fall face first onto the cot, ass still up in the air as you try to get your bearings shaking with tears streaming down your face. You hear someone shush you pulling them into his chest as you try to calm down from what might have been your most intense orgasm ever, “Jesus she’s gone cock dumb.”

Calming down you feel someone wipe tears from your eyes, and look to see Frankie thumbing your cheeks and realizing your head is pressed into Pope’s chest. Still disorientated, Frankie presses a glass of water to your lips, tipping it for you and allowing for you to drink, asking you, “did we go too hard sweetheart?”

“No,” you gain your bearings, leaning away from Santi’s chest, “that was so good.”

Both men smile at you pleased with themselves, but now that you can think again you have to ask, “how is this going to work––you guys don’t mind sharing me?”

They arch their brow and look at eachother and see Frankie put a hand on Santi’s knee, “were quite open to the arrangement for not just having you.”

Oh, “how long?”

“Two weeks in when we both realized the other was also bi,” Santi admits looking at you, “it didn’t take us too long after that to realize we wanted you involved too.”

“Is this fine?” Frankie asks suddenly back to his shy self. You smile and snuggle into both of them, “of course, I wanted both of you from the beginning.”

At that you all come together in a heap of affection, happy that you talk too loudly on the phone and hopeful that there won’t be any calls to action.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

cool cool cool cool

[vro0m]

vro0m’s rewatch - 114/304

2013 Bahrain GP

Oh hallelujah we have a full broadcast again?

Alright well we'll have a quali report but I can already tell you Rosberg is on pole to the surprise of : everyone. However, no journalist believes he has the pace to stay ahead in the race. Lewis, on the other hand, received a 5-place grid penalty for a tyre failure? Ah. So the suspension broke which apparently broke the gear box so they had to change it hence the penalty. He's starting in 9th. 

Look at this f1 mafia talk lmao terrifying

The journalists think they're talking about the tyres, which have been degrading extremely fast in the first three races of the season, as we’ve seen. 

Complete quali report then : Maldonado was out in Q1. Perez is 12th. Jenson made it to Q3. Raikkonen is only 8th and Grosjean 11th. Di Resta and Sutil profited from that as they are 5th and 6th for Force India. Webber has a 3-place grid penalty from China (??? I checked the Wikipedia article after that race and they weren't talking about any penalties, it's almost like Wikipedia isn't a reliable source /s anyway I guess it’s about that dangerous driving thing when he lost his tyre on the track, then), he's 7th. Alonso and Massa are 3rd and 4th. Everyone was expecting Seb to swoop in and get the pole at the last second but as we now know, it was Rosberg this time. It's Mercedes’ first pole since 1955. Damn. It's difficult to imagine nowadays how long it had been since Mercedes was successful (also of course they didn't exist as a team for a good long time but still, hearing such statistics feels weird.)

(I checked and actually they only were a team for two years in 1954 and 1955 before quitting after the infamous accident at Les 24h du Mans. They won the title these 2 years. Then they came back as a proper team in 2010 so these stats are actually pretty useless lol. Anyway.)

Edit as I’m writing the season summary : this actually makes no sense given Lewis was on pole in China?

Rosberg says he didn't expect the pole because they were struggling during the Friday FPs but they worked really hard Friday night. He says he's always finished where he started in Bahrain so it's a good omen, his biggest challenge will definitely be the rear tyres grip and some other teams are doing better with it. 

Lewis (who's chilling with Seb) is asked what he can do from 9th today.

He says "I don't know, we'll see !" it's going to be a tough race for sure but he's looking forward to it. (His hair looks weird).

He thinks– he corrects himself : he hopes he can do some overtaking but it's difficult with these tyres. If you go flat out you have the pace, you can overtake, but to save the tyres they have to drive 80% of what they can do. Looking after the tyres will be the hardest thing today. The journalist says it's insanely hot and they're saying it might be the hottest race in history. Lewis laughs.

She insists : it's true! He says it's not a problem, they're prepared, they're drinking. The tyres are more of an issue. 

It's Alonso and Webber's 200th race starts. I don't care. 

Oh wow yeah, they expect the harder tyre to only last 17 laps?! That's gonna be a MESS.

We get an interview with Lewis! Brundle says "there's a story that you went into the McLaren garage and they politely asked you to leave, is it true?" – "yeah!" he laughs, Brundle asks what happened.

He went to see the guys in winter testing, just to say hi and they were stripping the car down because they had issues. He says he went in with his back to the car so he wasn't looking at it but he was "swiftly escorted out".

Wait. That's all? That's all the interview we get? Ah no phew, it was just a snippet before the ad break. 

Lewis says it was a difficult weekend so far. He messes up an English expression that I don't know of but basically he says it happens and you have to deal with it.

He talks about the issue he had with the tyre. Brundle says a lot of fans think it's unfair that he has to start 9th because he had nothing to do with it. Lewis says it does feel pretty harsh but that's the rule. They agree it's a long race and all about tyre degradation. Lewis says looking after these tyres is a real pain. Brundle asks what he thinks of it because Alonso said in a previous interview he's driving at about 80% (it's funny because they explained earlier when he said that during the driver's parade interview that it came from Alonso and basically all of the drivers have been saying it since then). Lewis agrees with that. But he says it's just the way F1 is at the moment and everyone is on the same boat so you just have to enjoy it. Brundle says Rosberg did 2 pole-worthy laps during quali after his own pole in China but what about race pace?

Lewis says they struggle with tyre degradation during the races. He doesn't quite know what causes it, is it the exhaust? They had that issue at McLaren. They're working on it. Now we hear the McLaren garage anecdote from the snippet again. Lewis says he did get a message from Martin Whitmarsh saying he was welcome at any time which is nice. He's been really supportive throughout his racing career and still is today. Lewis says he's got nothing but love for him. Brundle asks what it feels like to overtake a McLaren during a race nowadays, is it just any car? He says no, it's still THE McLaren, it feels surreal, strange, to be behind a McLaren and thinking that's my old car, that's the car that I've grown up in.

But everyone moves on and experiences something new and he's enjoying it. Brundle asks what he would be satisfied with here in Bahrain starting 9th. He wants to get as many points as possible. "I mean," he explains, "I just wanna get some points." That's gonna be the target. He'd love to get a really good start and push his chances and get a bit higher up. It'd be awesome to get in the top 5, but it's a huge ask. Still that's what he's aiming for.

Ah they're interviewing Jules Bianchi on the grid. They're saying he's impressed everyone so far this season. It's so surreal seeing him here and thriving. 

Alright it's time. Formation lap. 

And they're racing! 

Challenging start for Rosberg, the Mercedes doesn't have the performance to fight the Ferraris and RedBulls. He barely stays in the lead in the first corner. Alonso overtook Seb. Seb overtakes Alonso. Sutil seems to have damage after contact with Massa. Oh Lewis lost a position. This is going to be a difficult race isn't it? Seb attacks Rosberg. He's in the lead but he goes wide and Rosberg is ahead again. Seb is only 0.1 behind and Alonso is also 0.1 behind him, it's just THAT close. Yellow flags? JEV has a puncture. Aaaand Seb attacks Rosberg again. And again. He's ahead. Now both Rosberg and Alonso have the DRS but it's not enough. Lewis down in P11?! Arghh. Alonso overtakes Rosberg. But Rosberg overtakes Alonso. Alonso overtakes Rosberg. Di Resta overtakes Rosberg. Massa has damage. I guess it's from that incident at the start with Sutil. He's now attacking Rosberg. Alonso is called in, he has a DRS problem, it's stuck open. They close it manually. Webber pits. Grosjean pits. Massa overtakes Rosberg. Alonso pits again, the DRS is stuck open again. He won't be able to use it for the rest of the race I imagine. Rosberg pits. We're 10 laps in out of 57. Jenson is also in. 

Seb is called in. Massa pits. Many people pit. Did Lewis? I think so, he's P13 at the moment. Jenson overtakes Rosberg for P7. I'm switching to x2 speed, this is a bad race. P6 to P10 is a close fight. Seb overtook Raikkonen, who hasn't pitted yet, for the lead. Lewis is up in P10 now. I think it's more due to pitting than overtaking. Raikkonen pits. He's behind Lewis. Massa has a puncture, he pits. JEV retires. Jenson and Rosberg are fighting over third place and Jenson wins. Then Rosberg is also overtaken by Grosjean. The Mercedes are really not doing well here. We're 22 laps in. Lewis pits. 

Rosberg is fighting the 2 McLarens over 8th place. But he loses. Seb pits from the lead and stays in the lead. It's not a really interesting race tbh. The tyre degradation really messes things up. Lewis overtook Bottas. That's P10. The McLarens still are fighting each other and they ultimately make contact. Rosberg is still behind. Lewis is P9. 31 laps in. 

That McLaren fight is getting heated, one of them was pushed out. Now Grosjean is in the midst of it. He also touched one of them. Raikkonen overtakes Di Resta for P2. He pits. Jenson pits. Pitting pitting pitting. Massa gets a second puncture. Lewis currently in P3 because of the stops. That's not gonna last as Raikkonen and Perez are closing on him. P4. He pits. Out in P10, just behind poleman Rosberg. Aaaah seriously how can the race pace be that much worse than the quali pace. (Rhetorical question, the answer is mostly tyre degradation). Webber is under investigation for making contact with Rosberg. 40 laps in. 

Lewis is surprisingly closing on Jenson. Rosberg pits. Lewis overtakes Jenson! Didn't see that coming. He's up in P6. Jenson was overtaken by both Perez and Alonso. Jenson pits and Alonso overtakes Perez. Perez got back at Alonso but Alonso is still ahead ultimately. Now Lewis is catching Webber! We're 50 laps in. 

Lewis overtakes Webber for P5! I had no faith for this race I guess that's on me. Grosjean overtook Di Resta for P3. But Webber gets his position back. Lewis is not giving up. Only a couple of laps left… oh my god it's close. Webber resists. Come on. Scaryyyy. Webber is swerving so much. I thought it wasn't allowed? Final lap. Lewis is ahead! 

It's the end of the race! 

Seb wins ahead of Raikkonen and Grosjean. Lewis is P5! 

Let's see if we got a post race interview. 

We did! He has water in his ear lol.

He's satisfied you can tell right away.

The journalist asks if he's pleased with the result. He hums and he says with emphasis "very, VERY happy. I'm massively happy. Just because the race started out so bad."

He said he wanted to get a good start, he got a terrible start "and then I was just so slow!" he says with surprise in his voice. "I was nowhere!" He's so animated it's adorable. "I had no speed at all."

Whatever he did to the car, it wouldn't go any faster. And all of a sudden, after the second stop, it started reacting differently and he was able to push and he had grip again. He thinks it has to do with quali and the change of gear box, something must have modified the car. She says he did some good racing with Mark. He smiles and says at the beginning he wasn't overtaking anyone, he was a sitting duck getting overtaken and it was great to be able to do some overtaking in the end.

He's so grateful for the result. The team did a great job these first four races. "Onwards and upwards!" I like how chatty he gets when he's happy 💜

Time for Europe! 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

---------------------------------

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 11]

Words: 10.8k+

Summary: Y/N and Michael finally decide to talk about what happened.

Warnings: Female!Reader. 18+. Smut, unprotected sex [pls use a condom]. Cheating! Overthinking. A very slight mention of blood.

Prologue    Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5     Part 6    Part 7   Part 8    Part 9    Part 10    Part 11

“Oh, shut up!” You laugh out loud.

Finn laughs from beside you, laying on his back over Polly’s carpet as you lay on her couch on your stomach, looking down at the youngest Shelby brother.

“I would never do such thing.” You defend yourself, “Is that what you really think of me, Finn?”

Finn laughs with you as he stares up at you, hands resting on his chest, as he continues to assume how possible it is for you scare any girl that he’s interested in, away.

“Oh, please.” He says with a playful look on his face, “You would probably make her so many questions about her life choices that she would just run off.”

“Well, sorry if I continuously look out for you.”

The front door of Polly’s home swings open and almost makes you and Finn sit up by how high you two jumped from how it startled you.

You had been so focused on the conversation that you didn’t even hear the motor of a car outside. And now you two are acting as if you were caught talking about something you shouldn’t have been.

Polly walks inside the house, dark cigarette over her lips, and soon walks in Michael, following her every step.

“But why would he transfer the money if he didn’t need it?” He asks his mother, frown over his face as he closes the door behind him.

Polly shrugs at his words and takes off her furry jacket, leaving it by the hanger before taking the cigarette from her lips and exhaling a large cloud of smoke out of her lungs.

Her eyes move off her son, who has most of his back turned to you and Finn, and Polly finds you, almost falling off the couch from the strange position.

“Why are you on the ground?” She asks Finn, gaining a smile from the two of you.

“It’s comfortable.” He answers.

Michael looks over his shoulder and his eyes meet yours right away. Finn’s answer is able to manipulate a slight grin on his face, which hovers over his lips. There is no vocal answer on his part, just silence and a look of amusement.

It��s been almost a week since your nightmare, a total of 5 days to be exact. And Michael has been in Polly’s house for most of those days, mainly surrounded by work and nothing else.

You’ve questioned Polly about it after he left for the hotel and all you got as an answer was that he was trying to prove to Tommy that he can be forgiven. Quite odd, but who are you to question that?

At least 3 of the nights of those 5 days, Michael slept over at Polly’s. For a reason you do not know why, but it surely has to with Gina. You didn’t ask Polly about it, assuming she wouldn’t know, but honestly because it sounded wrong just to imagine yourself questioning such a thing.

Like said before, he had been working for most of his time over at the house, hidden in Polly’s office or seated at the dinner table, surrounded by papers while holding a cigarette between his fingers or lips as a way to lift off his stress.

You two didn’t talk much, but most of your conversations were in the mornings. Like the one after the night of the nightmare. They would end when his mind was somewhere lost in the papers and you two fell into the natural silence between sentences. You never disturbed him to keep the exchange of words alive, therefore, the talking of the day was done.

Michael and Polly continue their conversation soon after taking their eyes off Finn and you and, slowly, start making their way to the kitchen, where most silence of the house resides.

Their voices are low, but you can tell that they’re talking about work - something you’ve been forcefully pulled away for these past few days.

You look back at Finn once they’re out of your field of view and he’s staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“Who’s occupying your mind, uh?” You tease him, poking his chest.

He snaps back to reality and looks over at you, playful smile on his lips as he adjusts his head on the tall pillow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He says back.

Your eyes widen at his words and a shocked expression twitches your features.

“So, there is someone in your mind?” You ask in a squeak, not controlling your vocal cords in a such exciting moment, “Finn Shelby, I cannot believe you.”

He stays silent, his smile just grows at your shocked and squeaky words.

“What’s her name?!” You ask in almost a scream, overly excited.

“I’m not telling you that,” He says, lifting and turning his head to the side on the pillow, “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, Finn, come on!” You drag out your words for dramatization, “Can you just tell me if you two are dating or not?”

He thinks for a second and you just stare at him as he does it.

Seconds later, he’s still silent, slowly getting on your nerves over playing with your excited emotions like that.

“I swear I won’t look into it, just please answer my question.” You plead.

Finn sighs, slowly giving up.

“Okay…” He breathes out, “I am not telling you her name. But…” You hold yourself up with your elbow in excitement, “We are dating.”

A loud gasp escapes your mouth, and you hold in another shriek of excitement over his words.

His smile is just enough for you to believe that he likes the girl too much to sell any more information about her to you, but you honestly couldn’t feel any happier.

“For how long?” You ask, holding yourself up to sit up, unable to contain your emotions.

“I’ve known her for a bit. Been dating for like… 2 weeks?”

Your jaw almost hits the floor, but before you could even ask why he didn’t tell you before, you got yourself the answer. You would’ve gone all inspector mode to try and find any girl in Birmingham that is overly happy about a certain event.

Nothing he wouldn’t do for you too. Plus… You were in a hospital not that long ago-

“Wow.” You sigh, falling back to lay on the couch, “You were seeing someone while I was dying?”

A loud laugh escapes Finn’s mouth and bite in your smile to continue your acting.

“No! God, I was seeing her before you got shot.” He tells you, “Good to know that’s what shocked you the most about my whole confession.”

“I have to have my priorities.”

He continues to smile up at you, finding your words so amusing that he’s finding it hard to hold his chuckles every time you open your mouth to speak.

“Does Polly know?” You ask him.

“No-”

Before he could have finished saying the simple word you’re already out of the couch and running to the kitchen.

Sure, it hurt a little to do that movement so quickly, but you’ve got a great mission up ahead… Tell Polly the big news: Finn has finally stopped having sex with everyone that has a pair of legs.

Finn laughs at your excitement yet doesn’t stop you. Polly will know now or later anyway.

Either you tell her now or someone will, in the future. Or worse, her second sight might let her know of the news when they’re in an argument.

A wave of chills runs through Finn’s spine at the thought, and he shivers absurdly as a reaction.

Thank god he told you first.

You run in the kitchen and Michael continues his conversation, not finding any problem with you hearing anything he’s saying.

You wait beside them for the conversation to end, hands behind your back, swaying back and forth on the heels of your feet like a child waiting for her parents’ permission to go play outside.

Michael finishes and Polly gives him a quick answer. You don’t care enough to hear them. You just want to dump out the news at the center of the table.

“Do you have that on paper?” She asks Michael and he nods, “Go get it.”

Michael nods again and leaves the room, leaving you to stare back at Polly with a huge smile.

“What do you want?” She asks.

She looks down at the ashtray as she dips the tip of her cigarette down, yet you see her hiding a playful smile, probably finding yours contagious.

“Finn just told me that…” You pause to add some suspense, “… he has a girlfriend!”

Polly, right on that second, looks up at you with widen eyes.

She stares at you, analyzing every small bit of your face, trying to see if you’re joking in anyway, but she finds nothing.

“He has a fucking what?” She whispers in shock.

(…)

It has been a few hours. All of you had lunch together, which was filled with a whole bunch of teasing Finn while he tried to hide behind his hands and act like he only wants to stare down at his food.

And, of course, while that happened, you tried not to choke in your water or water while laughing so hard.

Now, Finn is sitting beside Polly on the couch as she tries to squeeze out of him as much information as possible. Michael is standing by the couches, packing his stuff up to leave.

You make your way down the stairs, just returning from the bathroom, and Michael looks over his shoulder at you.

“Are you leaving already?” You ask him, curious.

“Yeah. Need to go take care of something.” He says, being careful with his words. Polly has been too careful with pulling you away from work, Michael doesn’t want to be the one to break that lack of information.

He looks back to what is in front of him, and you notice three boxes of what you believe is paperwork related to the family’s business.

Polly and Finn are still siting, deep into their whispers, probably hiding any kind of potentially important information about his girlfriend from you.

Before you can even tease them for their antics, Michael says something.

“Could you help me carry this one?” He asks.

You nod right away. It’s one of the smaller boxes, the emptiest too. It won’t even make you blink an eye with any possible discomfort.

He piles the two bigger, and fuller, boxes and grabs them, their height only reaching up to his chest. You grab the smaller one, holding it on your hip. You help Michael with the door and leave it slightly open before following him to his car.

The silence between you is not by any means uncomfortable. It’s quite comforting, actually.

Michael opens the backseat door open with some difficulty and turns back for you to give him the other box. You do it and as you’re about to turn and leave, he says something.

“Wait.” He says, making you look at him, “I have something for you.”

“For me?” You ask confused.

He doesn’t answer. He closes the door and walks over to the front seats, opening the passenger seat door, hiding whatever is in front of him with his body.

Michael turns and you have to bite your tongue to not say anything.

It’s a small bouquet of flowers, most of them being wildflowers, your favorite. The exact same ones that have quite a history when it comes to the two of you.

You and Michael didn’t argue in your relationship, but when it did happen, and when he would be the main reason behind those same fights, he would give you flowers.

It was a rare occasion for you to receive them, but this type of bouquet is Michael’s apologetic bouquet. Always has been. It has all your favorite flowers arranged just like you loved, always in the same way to show off their vibrant colors.

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask and a small grin forms on his lips.

You remember them.

“The same thing as I’ve been apologizing for the past few weeks.”

You extend your hand and take the bouquet from his hand, ignoring how your hand rested right above his for some good few splits of a second.

You bring the flowers close to you, hiding any kind of positive expression, as you admire them silently.

“There’s a note inside. But you can read it later.” He lets you know.

“I will.” You say, looking back up at him, but this time, with a small grin.

He nods, small smile prominent on his lips as he does it. He looks relieved, probably because you accepted his flowers in the first place, but, also, nervous, almost like those same flowers are a ticking bomb of some sort.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You decide to say, breaking the intense stare down.

“Yeah,” He exhales, “I’ll see you later.”

To escape any possibility of another stare down, you turn on your heels and start walking towards the house. As you stand up the porch, you steal a glance over your shoulder, already finding Michael looking straight at you.

You offer him a small smile, different from the grin, and finally step into Polly’s home.

The sound of Polly’s and Finn’s voices fill your ears, and you close the door behind you, trying not to look back at Michael, who is still standing by his car.

The front door closes, slowly, and Polly lifts her gaze to meet yours, finding the slow motion and lack of slamming of her door so unlike you. You step aside into view and a gasp escapes her lips.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” She says out loud.

“I’m afraid not.” You answer, eyebrows lifted, trying to show that you’re as shocked as she is.

She stands from beside Finn, who is as shocked, and walks towards you. She takes the flowers from your hands and analyzes them.

“Let me guess.” She says with a playful tone, “Another apology?”

You chuckle at her and she smiles brightly at you.

“You’re correct.” You announce, stealing a look at Finn, who looks amused, “Might have to write this one down as the official thousandth one.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping count.” Polly jokes with you making you smile.

She walks back to the kitchen to get a vase and you follow right behind her. Finn stands from the couch and does the same as you.

Polly sets them over the kitchen counter gently and looks around for the perfect vase, one you can later take to your own home, when you’re healed.

Finn walks up to the flowers and analyzes them silently, just like Polly. He brings up his hand and carefully pulls something out, a small envelope.

“I’m sure this is for you.” He says, handing the envelope to you.

You take it into your hands and hold it carefully close to you.

Polly starts filling the vase with water and looks back at you, staring down at the small paper, just the size of your hand.

“Well, open it!”

You smile at her tone and you do as told. Finn looks at you questioningly as you undo the top and Polly stops the water from running.

You take the small note from inside the envelope and put down it down. You unfold it, careful with making it face you and you only, and as the word meets your eyes, Polly swears she sees them brighten.

Meet me behind the barns tomorrow at 3.               – M

(…)

With both Polly and Finn at work, possibly at a meeting, you’re left to stay home alone until 3. You’ve taken your time to get ready. You’ve done your make-up, nothing too intense, just your normal light look, and have gotten dressed.

A floral green dress hugs your body, nothing unlike your usual style. Not a suit, but something you would wear when out with Polly at your day’s off. And on top of that, a long dark coat, which covers your body from any cold wind.

What even is going to happen today?

You step out of Polly’s home, keys in hand and coat closed enough to protect you from the harsh wind meeting you as soon as you make your presence to the outside world.

You climb in your car. Poor thing as been sitting there by the front of the house for days now, quite sad.

As you make your way to the familiar location, Michael is standing by his car.

He didn’t expect the day to be so cold and windy, but like any other place close to Small Heath, the weather is just unpredictable.

He shakes his cigarette, letting the white and bright red ashes fly with the wind as they burn at the tip of the poisonous, yet addicting and calming, stick. His eyes are stuck on the gravel under his feet, heart ponding against his chest and with his hands shaking.

It’s like taking you on your first date all over again.

He’s just a nervous and anxious wreck.

The sound of a car door closing in the distance makes him snap back from his thoughts and look over his shoulder. You’re right there, just a few meters away from him. Your jacket is open, falling by your sides, as its material and your thin dress move with the, now, calmer wind.

“Sorry for being a little late.” You apologize and he shakes his head.

“No worries.”

He leans away from his car and walks to stand beside you. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, shielding them from the cold, and with that he takes your outfit in, finding the flowers in the fabric somewhat familiar to his gaze.

“Should we start walking?” You break his trance.

“Uh- Yeah, yeah.” He nods.

The abandoned barn stands tall beside the two of you as you walk by it. This is just outside of Small Heath. A small barn where Tommy used to have some of his horses, ones that weren’t exactly for racing. Maybe family horses… Can you even call them that?

Right behind the old structure, is a vast field. One, that for you to meet its true beauty, you have to walk for some good few minutes or well… get yourself a horse and ride for not even 3 minutes.

The green fields meet your eyes and for a second, you feel like you’ve lost your ability to breathe. The air is clearer where you stand then from whatever corner you stand in the whole Birmingham, but god, it’s breathtaking.

No sight of pollution, of smoke or even of people. Just peaceful green, tall wild grass, trees scattered through each curve of the irregular grounds.

It’s as calm as nature can be.

You walk beside Michael, both of you admiring the familiar grounds you step on, yet not opening your mouths to break such a comforting silence.

The sounds surrounding you are nothing but the patter of your feet on top of the grass, which is so tall it comes close to your upper thighs, the wind hitting the tall leaves and making them hit your legs, the branches of the trees moving and making the leaves collide with one another, and simply the wind over your ears.

Everything so silent it even makes your ears seem to vibrate.

“God, Michael, you are unbelievable.” You tell the man behind you without even looking over your shoulder.

“You were the one that had the idea!”

“And you went with it!” You say in a louder tone at him, “You’re supposed to be the one with the brains in this relationship, not me.”

The man chuckles from behind you, each of you riding your own horses as the sun shines on the two of you, marking and showing nothing but its natural beauty of the season.

“We can still go back.” He says, reigns resting by his legs, letting the horse move on its own.

“And say what?” You ask with a smile, “Yeah, sorry, Polly. The party was the most boring idea ever, and we had to walk out?”

“Something like that.”

You exhale out a chuckle and shake your head.

“Why did she even let the neighbor plan out the party?” You ask him.

You look over your shoulder to stare at your boyfriend and he’s already looking at you.

“She said something about wanting to give the woman a chance.” He shrugs, “Did you expect any less from her? She has been apologizing to my mom for the past year, this party was the least she could’ve done.”

“A cake would’ve done it.”

Michael smiles in amusement at you and you continue to look at him.

“You really think you can buy your way to my mom’s heart with a cake?”

“I did.” You say and he rolls his eyes. “And it worked.”

“It worked because you were already part of the family. And hitting my mom’s side of the car is not the same as what you did.” He says defensively.

“I think what I did was quite horrid, if you ask me.”

“I thought it was funny.” He smiles.

“Yeah, well, that’s because you like seeing your crazy family in distress and me in trouble.” You defend yourself, checking the field in front of you to see if you’re close to your destination, “Seriously, Michael, you worry me sometimes.”

A loud cackle of disbelief escapes Michael’s lips and you grin at the sound.

“You broke a vase of flowers on my cousin’s head! You didn’t destroy a whole side of a car!” He tells you and you turn back to him.

“Yeah! I know! But it still made me almost pee myself in fear when it happened.” You confess, finding it almost impossible not to laugh, “I could’ve had nightmares with what could’ve been my consequence.”

“God, you’re dramatic.”

You smile and stop the horse, finally standing by the usual area.

“No, I’m just realistic.” You tell him, “Finn could’ve gotten hurt, and if he did… I could’ve been dead by now.”

“Wow!” Michael chuckles. “You’re just… out of this world.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say, finding his words, out of context, funny. “But still… I feel bad for leaving.”

“Don’t.” He says as you jump down off your horse, “My mom won’t care, and Finn left like 2 hours ago. Nobody cared.”

“Still… It’s your birthday Michael.” You tell him, “You should be celebrating it.”

Michael jumps out of his horse and brings the reigns to the front, walking over to you with the horse just a meter behind him.

As he lets go of the reigns, like any other time here, he stands tall in front of you, not caring that the horse is moving away to go eat the perfect patch of green grass not too far away. You look up at him and wait for him to say something.

“And I am.” He says, “I prefer to stay here with you, then eat whatever was on that table.”

He presses a kiss over your lips, and you gasp.

“That is mean, Michael!” You say defensively, “That woman worked very hard…! And all night!”

He thinks of what to say next for a bit.

“And you still gave the idea to leave.”

Your mouth opens in disbelief at his words.

“You’re heartless, Y/N.” He says, amusement thick on his tone, lips twitching to smile again.

You scowl and smack his chest, hard.

“You little bitch.” You curse him out, making him laugh and take a step back from you.

The silence stays thick between the two of you, yet as soon as the wind lifts off ever so slightly, Michael finds himself being curious. He steals a look your away and notices you’re walking while staring down at the grass.

“You’re quiet.” Michael comments out loud, snapping you back to reality.

You blink your thoughts away and quickly lift your head ever so slightly, not enough to stare at him but enough to see how much you still have to walk.

“So are you.” You whisper back at him, soft grin on your lips, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

You look over at him, ignoring your overthinking mind that hesitates so much to do it, and to your surprise, he’s already looking at you.

“About…” You sigh stretching out the word in your lips, shifting your gaze forward once more, finding his eyes intrusive for some reason, “Old times?” You answer as a question, unsure. “The past few days have made me kind of stuck in memories, I guess.”

He nods, even though you’re not looking at him anymore, and also brings his gaze away from you to stare at the greenery at his front.

“That makes two of us.” He confesses.

“Really?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah” He nods, again.

You nod, pursing your lips while saying to yourself mentally ‘who would’ve thought you’re not the only crazy one’, and, in a quick decision, you decide to blur out whatever is on your mind.

“Mine were actually about, uhm…” You hesitate, catching yourself and your urges midsentence, and Michael notices, bringing his gaze back to you, “That one time we both came here-” You sigh when lost for words and you shake your head slightly with a scowl.

Your discomfort over your own troubling thoughts doesn’t go unnoticed by Michael, and he decides to ease up some of it with his words.

“One time? Out of the thousand times we came here?”

You look back at him and feel yourself relax at his playful tone.

“Yeah. It was a quite special day, actually.” You add.

A full-on smile appears on the man’s face, pearly white teeth out to show amusement at your words.

“Again. Which one out of the hundreds of days like that?”

Your heart tightens at his words and you welcome them with a smile, shaking your head at his comment. Your hand lifts and lays over his arm, pushing him away from you as playful push for him to shup up such nonsense.

Michael looks down as the smile on his face stretches and a chuckle escape both of your mouths.

Your playful touch had been missed, and his body made it obvious to him. The way it warmed up and boiled after so many years of pure and utter cold.

Your hand falls back to your side as you two continue to walk in silence, eyes focusing on the path ahead.

In a simple matter of seconds, you find yourselves looking at each other, silently. Almost as if admiring one another.

“It was your birthday.” You admit, “The year before you left.”

“Why that one?”

You shrug, checking if you’re still too far from your destination.

“I don’t know. It just came to me for some reason.”

He nods and you steal a glance at his smiling self.

“Was it the amazing food that we loved so much that we had to run off?” He starts, “Or was it the amazing entertainment it was given to us throughout the evening?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and a weight lifts off Michael’s shoulders. How relaxing it feels.

“God, don’t remind me of that.” You say to him.

“Why? Is the awfully well decorated cake hunting your mind?”

Another chuckle leaves you and you roll your eyes.

“I see that you’re just as mean as before when it comes to analyzing other people’s hard work.” You joke with him and he smiles down at you.

“Guess so.”

Silence falls back in between you and you two walk calmly again, nothing rushing you to leave and get to the usual spot any quicker.

“What about you? What memories of the old times have been hunting you?” You jokingly ask.

“There have been a lot of them.”

“What was the last one you thought off?” You ask, trying to ease the question for him.

“Our first date.”

You snap your head at him, not expecting him to also confess that he was thinking of two of you, and he smiles at your reaction.

“Why?”

“I was shitting my pants before coming in here. Was scared you would bail on me. Just like I felt in our first date.” He confesses and you scowl.

There’s a silence of a few seconds before you decide to break it with your curiosity.

“Why would I bail on you?”

He scoffs.

“We both know the answer to that question.”

Silence.

Back to complete and utter silence, yet this time. It’s not as comfortable.

The sweet and loving conversation has died down with the slight indirect mention of how your relationship came to an end.

The patter of your feet is all you hear but also all you prefer to look at in this moment.

Michael steals a glance at you and notices the way you hesitate to look up.

He curses himself in his head and his smile is back down, dead, with no reason to come back so soon.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No.” You cut him off, “Don’t worry about that.” You stuff your hands back in the pockets of your jacket. “We had to talk about that sooner or later.”

He nods and you look up, seeing him do it.

“We’re getting close.” He announces, making you look up.

Oh God, you missed this.

The fields look the same, just as green and still with small specks of color from the wildflowers. The trees seem to have gotten bigger and fluffier in a way, but they’re still standing tall and creating the perfect little hidden spot between them.

Exactly where you and Michael used always sit.

Michael notices that you had stopped walking after taking a few steps alone, and when he looks back over his shoulder at you.

Memories and all types of emotions erupt through your body harshly. You breathe in deeply, eyes showing the slightest bit of tears of which you can not tell if it’s either sadness or happiness to be back after so long.

Michael notices your different mood, yet he doesn’t understand what is going on. He turns to you completely, having his back to the familiar fields to check on you and his eyes are stuck.

Your eyes are filled with emotion, a soft scowl is written over your face, decorating it. Your body seems to shake slightly at the wind that seems to love to come back at unfortunate moments, and you’re just there. Standing and staring.

You break from your trance as something in front of you appears. You look down to see Michael extending his hand to you, face soft with a comforting expression.

You lay your hand over his, taking it out of your warm pocket and Michael pulls you in further to take steps closer to your destination.

You do as he does while your hands fall connected by your sides. Your eyes are focused on them, staring down as if to check if it’s real or just like in your nightmares, realistic, yet so far deep in your mind that it will bring you great terror in a space of seconds.

Slowly, you get closer to the scenery you had just stared in the distance, and you start to notice small details. There are not as many flowers since autumn is still very much present in this day, yet the place is just as warm and welcoming, still shielding you from most of the cold wind.

Your hand stays connected with Michael’s even when you stand between the familiar trees, neither of you feeling capable enough to pull away yet. Your other hand reaches and touches the trunk of the tree you used to always sit next to.

It feels so unreal that you almost have to pinch yourself.

“Feels weird to stand here.” You confess.

Michael steps closer to you and nods.

“It’s been a long time.”

“A bit too long, maybe.” You add and he agrees again with a nod, “We used to almost come here everyday before winter. I missed it.”

You look up to meet Michael’s eyes and their icy blue color meets your gaze right away. They’re soft, familiar, and comforting.

“Want to sit?” He asks you, eyes still connected.

You nod and he lets go of your hand, for your (big) disappointment.

Michael takes a seat next to the tree and lays his back against it, and you’re quick to follow him, sitting by him, legs to your side as you adjust the thin fabric of your dress.

Michael sighs and your eyes find him again, he looks nervous. More than you.

“I should be the one to start talking.” He whispers, making you tilt your head as if to signalize that you’re listening, “I… Uhm… I-I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning would be great.” You joke, gaining a playfully annoyed look from him, “Okay… Uhm…”

You think for a second. Would it be too harsh id you just asked it?

“Why did you do it?”

Michael holds in a gasp at your sudden and direct question, and you continue to stare at him. He notices how you’re analyzing his face, from hair to chin, from ear to ear.

You’re studying him intensely, trying to find the answer yourself in his features.

“It’s stupid.” He says to you.

“I don’t care.” You admit, “I just want to know why.”

He has said, weeks prior, that he did not know why he had done it, which did lead you to scream at him and throw a plate at his head.

But you didn’t believe him, not even a bit. And the fact that he is hesitating to say it out loud now, it’s just a clear reason that good things surely aren’t going to come from his mouth.

“I did it be- because… Fuck.” He comments mid-sentence, shaking his head, finding his nerves ridiculous, “I did it because I couldn’t focus at work.” He licks his lips, eyes still focused on you, “Every time you called was awful. I felt helpless when you would tell me that you missed me and that you were worried about me.”

He sighs and you look at him confused.

“I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I couldn’t hear you tell me to be careful anymore. I knew I was going to get hurt at one point- It’s bad, I know it is, but I- I just couldn’t deal with your calls… They just made me want to come back home every time, and I… I knew couldn’t.” He confesses, stressed with his own words.

What the fuck is he saying?

“I started to worry about myself. I-I would panic because I was scared that I wouldn’t come back at one point… If I got too hurt or- you know.”

You stay silent.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He tells you.

Silent is set between you two again, and you, honestly, just want to hit him.

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” You curse at him.

He doesn’t say anything back, yet his mind is filled with questions: did I say enough? Did I say too much? Do I look or sound as much of an asshole as I feel like I do?

God, his words sounded so much better in his mind. Now it just all sounds like… He’s stupid, that’s what he sounds like.

You can’t believe him for a few good seconds.

For so long, you made yourself think so many awful things about yourself, and now you know you weren’t even the exact cause of the problem.

He didn’t break up with you because were too clingy or too annoying over the phone, it was because you were making him… be careful?

“What did you want from that one call?” You question, “And be honest.” You sound calm, surprisingly. “Just me to stop calling?”

“No.” He scowls at you, “I expected you to move along with your life. Find someone else.”

Oh, and the urge to punch him intensifies.

“I knew it would take time, but… I wanted you to find someone better, to just live your life.” He says sincerely and you continue to stare at him. “God, this sounds dumb but… It would be better for you to have someone in case I would never come back…” He sighs, “Does that even make sense?”

You don’t answer him, so he continues.

“When you stopped calling. I thought that’s what had happened.”

Calling after his final call, he means.

“God, Michael...” You exhale, looking away from him and shaking your head.

“It’s stupid of me, I know.” He comments to you, “I’m really sorry.”

His voice is small in the middle of your silence. It’s thick with emotion and you just know that he is beating himself for it still. For everything that he has done and stopped doing for the past few months.

His thoughts are degrading in every way possible. Michael can’t see a reason why they shouldn’t be. He knows you went through really rough few months because of him, now. Thoughts like his shouldn’t even be compared to something as small as a pinch.

You look back at him, yet your eyes don’t meet his. His gaze is focused on something in the distance, mind completely filled with thoughts you’re sure that you’re too familiar with.

“I’m going to forgive you. Not now, but I will.” You confess, “It will just take a bit of time on my part.”

Michael clenches his jaw, not really believing you for a second.

Is it bad that he doesn’t feel like he deserves it? He just gave you the most half assed justification and apology, yet you are still thinking about forgiving him?

Like, what the fuck?

“My ego is just too big for me to forgive you so soon.” You crack up a joke.

The slightest of curve appears over Michael’s lips, but his eyes still don’t go to you. You scratch the side of your neck and without him noticing, you shift to sit closer to him.

You look back at him before starting to talk again.

“Just so you know.” You start, “Your plan didn’t really work… I didn’t move on after… After you ended things.” You whisper.

His head snaps back at you and you hold a comforting look to welcome his eyes back to your own.

You don’t want him to feel worse, you really don’t want to. What’s done is done. Both of you can’t go back in time to change anything.

“You didn’t?”

“No.” You chuckle.

“Why not?”

“Fucking Birmingham men are disgusting.” You justify with a disgusted look on your face. “And I was already working for your family when I was feeling more… okay, so, I had to stay here, stuck with the sight of either saggy old men or just way too cocky younger men.”

He grins slightly at your distaste for the locals, and you offer him a smile.

“I am, supposedly, from Birmingham” He says, trying to sound offended, “And you dated me just fine.”

“Yeah, well…” You comment with a cringe and his grin grows, “You’re still three quarters a country boy, so you don’t really count.”

He rolls your eyes at you and you hit your shoulder with his playfully, swaying to force his stiff body to move a bit.

But, even with the playful mood and slight grin, he still looks hesitant.

“What’s done is done, Michael. The best thing we can do now is learn from it.” You tell him with a soft voice.

He just stares down at you.

“And just so you know, I should be upset at you. I feel like I should. And don’t get me wrong, I want to beat you up for being this stupid.” You confess, “God, you were supposed to be the smart one in all of this.” You add, exhaling your words.

He doesn’t say anything.

“And the reason why I’m not mad is that it has been a long time. I took a long time to heal and grow as a person.” You continue, “I just feel like all of that would’ve gone to waste if I became upset over the reason why it all happened.”

Still nothing from him.

“Blaming and hating ourselves doesn’t get us nowhere, you know?” You ask, “Especially hating other people. It’s just so stupid. Life is fucking shit. It is, but-” You sigh. “I don’t have to hate you for it, or… blame you for it.”

Where the hell are you going with this? Michael asks himself.

“You moved on, right?” You ask rhetorically, “Maybe it was meant to be.” You shrug, “Sure, it was a little harsh, but you found Gina. If you hadn’t made that last call to end…” You move your finger around to point at the two of you, “this… You would’ve been still dating me and not been able to be with her.”

Your words sort of hurt Michael. It is the truth, everything is true. If it weren’t for that last call, he wouldn’t have looked or thought of any other women but you.

No Gina, no nobody. Just you.

But is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?

His heart still beats for you, he knows he still feels for you. Every day that passes, it gets more and more intense. The same way his love for Gina disappears, yours grow.

It’s like his heart is pushing Gina away and open back the space that you once used to own and rule.

“What?” You question when noticing that Michael has been staring down at you and hasn’t said a thing.

“I still feel like I would’ve taken back what I did.” He confesses.

“And what about Gina?”

He shakes his head dismissively.

“She would’ve been fine without me.”

There’s a silence between you two again, and you’re just registering what has said and trying not to take it in a certain very biased way. All of that while he just stares at nothing.

“Where is she, by the way?” You ask curiously, “You’ve barely spent any time at the hotel lately.”

Michael scowls at thought about the fight they had in Polly’s kitchen.

“Yeah… We’re going through a rough patch, right now.”

“Really?” You ask and he nods, “God, you guys went from happily engaged to this in what…? A month and a half?”

He sends you a slight glare.

“What? It’s true.”

“What happened to not hate others? And that that will get you nowhere?” He comments and a smile grows on your face.

“Yeah, well…” You chuckle, “I don’t hate her. I just… dislike her. She was rude to me.” You smile at him, “But, seriously, I really don’t like her. At all. Like god damnit, Michael, I’m sorry to say, but you sure don’t know how to pick them.”

A big chuckle escapes Michael and you smile at him triumphantly. He shakes his head at you and brings his gaze back to yours.

“I picked you. For years.”

“Yeah, and that’s why that’s obviously the highlight of your life.” You say nodding at him, and his lips finally stretch into a smile.

Who knew insulting him would’ve fixed his sad mood?

You bring your hand up and hesitatingly, you lay it over his, letting your fingers find their way to the space between his thumb and his pointer finger, sliding into his palm and giving it a squeeze.

Michael’s eyes move to your hands and you hold your breath, scared that he will pull away.

His eyes slowly come back up to you and they’re as soft as you’ve ever seen them. He holds your fingers and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly.

You give him a small smile and he exchanges hands, connecting your left hand with his right so it’s more comfortable to him.

He intertwines your fingers, slowly, and his movements are the slowest you’ve ever seen them, yet they’re sweet. Letting your fingers slide and fall themselves in between his or yours.

“I missed you.” He whispers under his breath, making you look up at him again. “A lot.”

You grin at him and give his hand a squeeze as your answer.

You don’t know it, but Michael is biting his tongue to not apologize to you again. The urge to do it is stronger than him.

It’s like if he repeats it for as many times possible, you will eventually forget what he did.

He doesn’t want you do forgive him. He wants you to just forget it. Act as if everything as always been perfect.

“I substituted you with Finn, so I can’t say the same.” You say playfully, making his lips pull up again.

“I noticed. Weirdest fucking pair, I swear.” He scoffs.

“Jealousy is a serious disease, Michael.” You comment back, nodding.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

“Excuse me?” You ask confused, yet still smiling.

“You’ve barely had a full conversation with Gina, but you just told me you ‘dislike’ her.” He says, amused tone, “Sounds like jealousy to me.”

You laugh at him and shake your head.

“Wow! You really are crazy.” You say, making him smile, “Must have been the air in New York. Probably messed your brain up.”

“Stop” He pokes your leg with his other hand, “Insulting.” Another poke, “Me.” Another poke. “It’s not funny.”

“Then why are you smiling so brightly at me, hey?” You ask with as just as big of a smile.

You two stare at each other with the smiles on your faces and your heart quickens at the sudden change of atmosphere. Everything seems so perfect between you two. Gina doesn’t seem like a barrier between you two anymore.

It’s like old times.

“Are you still marrying Gina?” You catch yourself asking.

His eyes widen slightly at your sudden question and your smile falls slightly. You’re embarrassed at the sudden slip of words but it’s already too late.

“I’m not sure.” He answers.

You react shocked at his answer. What is happening?

Both of your hearts are almost coming out of your chests, it’s like they’re going to explode if a specific confession escapes both your lips.

“Why?” You whisper, your voice failing you.

“I don’t-” He thinks for a second, “I don’t think I love her anymore.”

You hold in a sigh and continue to listen to him.

“I’ve been telling myself that she has changed ever since we got here, but…” He pauses, searching your face for any hesitation, “I think she has been like this all along. And all that has changed as been that-” He suddenly stops.

“That what?” You whisper, almost feeling out of breath.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop comparing her to you. Or look at her and just… wish that she’s you.”

Your breathing is heavy, almost like you’re fighting the weight of a thousand stones on your chest. Everything is going on too quickly, but all you feel is relief.

“What are you saying, Michael?” You ask, voice falling into a whisper again.

He stays silent, almost as if rethinking about what he’s about to say.

Your eyes unconsciously lower to Michael’s lips and his smile as fallen as well. He’s serious. Your breathing has gotten quicker without you even realizing, and when your eyes go back to Michael’s, you find him doing the same thing.

“I love you.”

You stop breathing, shock erupting through your system.

“I never stopped loving you. Never. I’ve been lying to myself for all this time, trying to make myself believe that I was happy with Gina but I’m not.” He says, “I’m not happy with anyone else but you. Because I can only love you. Only you. Nobody else.”

He said it.

He said everything that has been troubling his mind for so long. He finally said it.

He said what you have been dreaming that he would say for the longest time. You almost can’t believe this is reality. Your body has gone numb, your heart is beating at an insane speed.

It all just feels so unreal.

Michael’s mind is going at miles a second, overthinking ever curve of emotion in your face. Every twitch, every slight movement in your hand still holding his, now more loosely than before.

What if he spoke too soon? What if he just… destroyed everything you two could’ve still shared. You probably don’t even think about him in that way anymore. All that could’ve been shared as just friends was all destroyed now with his confession.

The confession you have waited for so long and expected it to never be real. The confession of his love for you.

You take a deep breath, feeling Michael tense up next to you at what seems like a way to compose yourself into talking again, and suddenly you let go of his hand.

Michael almost gasps at the lack of your natural warmth against his palm and his heart begins to break, threatening to shatter with just a simple movement.

And then, you just bring your hand behind his neck and pull him towards you, letting your lips connect like the old times. Like the old times you have been visiting lately in your mind for this long and painful time.

It all feels like fireworks are erupting through your body, pinching your muscles and making them rise awake to reality.

You and Michael don’t move for a few quick seconds, but as soon as his lips move and his head tilted slightly to the side, you felt like you could cry.

His nose scrapes your cheek as you kiss sweetly and slowly, and Michael’s hands find their way to you. You gasp against his lips as his hands touch your waist and the thin, almost see-through, fabric of your dress does you no justice.

You bring both of your hands to his face and cup it close to you as he pulls you in to him with his hands. You sit on your knees, rising and your lips disconnect with the sudden movement.

You meet his eyes before you move any further and you feel like you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Michael pulls you in and you move to straddle his lap, his eyes run through your body, eyeing every bit of skin his eyes can lay on as you move, and your jacket opens naturally. You lean your lips to his again and he is the one to begin the kiss this time. His fingers dig deliciously into the ribs by your waist and your hands go up to his hair.

His hands drag from your waist to your hips and down your legs, rising your dress to finally touch your skin. Its warmth is so familiar and so calming that Michael feels like he could pass out right in that second.

You gasp as his grip on your upper thighs intensifies and you pull away slightly. There is absolutely no regret or shame in both of your stares, absolutely nothing. Michael brings his hands up and slides the jacket off your shoulders.

You let him take it off and he lays it by his side, a hand comes to rest over your back and in the matter of a second, you’re laying on your back on the cold but dry ground while Michael is hovering over you.

Michael connects your lips again and you smile into the kiss. His lips as just as soft as you remember them, and he still kisses in the same way. You feel like you’re in a dream all over again.

He pushes away and before you could even open your eyes, his mouth starts pressing soft and wet kisses all over your neck. Your hand moves back to his hair and he slowly leaves a trail down your jaw and neck down to your exposed chest, savoring absolutely every bit of soft exposed skin.

You pull down the collar of his blazer and he seems to get the hint, because he lifts off you, making your body erupt into shivers from the cold. He takes off his jacket and throws it next to you, and as his hands work down his waistcoat, your lips find their way to him again.

A soft inhale of air escapes Michael’s mouth at the feeling of your lips and he’s quick to take off another layer of his suit, not caring if he rips a button or not. He lays you back down and follows you to the ground, holding himself up by his arms and laying right in the middle of your legs.

You two smile at each other as soon as your noses touch and the sound of a soft peck interrupts the silence.

Michael is completely lost in the bliss of the moment, just savoring every single second of it. While you still believe you’re in shock with whatever is going on.

Months prior to this you would’ve passed out with just the idea of seeing Michael again, and probably even punch yourself if you knew what would happen later on, or now. But, god, you couldn’t care less, now.

With only an arm holding him up, Michael squeezes the soft skin of your thigh and starts layering the skin close to your neck with kisses all over again. You, impatient as one can be, lay your hand over his and pull it further towards you.

The dress falls to your hips and exposes your skin to the cold evening. Both of your hands play with the buttons on Michael’s shirt before being able to pull it off him and expose his chest to you.

He presses a kiss onto your lips again and sits up on his knees, pulling away from the kiss and staring as if to make sure this isn’t his mind playing tricks on him and it’s really you.

He discards his shirt to one of his sides, not really caring if it will fly with the wind and it will lose it forever.

“What do you mean ‘okay’, Michael?” You ask, confused, staring at the plain wall in front of you.

“I’m agreeing with what you said. Maybe it is true.” He says through the phone, “You keep on calling me every day-”

“What?” You ask, scowling, “I haven’t called in so long… You-you haven’t picked up any of my calls… Michael, I just want to check on you.”

“I am fucking working, Y/N- God. It’s always the same thing. You’re always fucking checking on me. I. Am. Fine.” He says with the most arrogant and angry tone you’ve ever heard him with.

“How am I supposed to know that? You’re almost across the world, Michael, the only thing I can do is call you.” You defend yourself, shaking your head in confusion, “We haven’t talked in months.”

“I just. I just want you to stop it, okay?” He questions. “I am so done with this. With you making everything seem like such a big and dangerous thing when it never is. You just keep on distracting me all the time. I need to work.”

“What?”

“You did it just now. I went to work today, like any other day. Stayed on my office, did what I was supposed to do. What Tommy ordered me to do. I just told you that I had someone on my office, and you got all fucking worried- like Jesus, Y/N.” He takes a deep breath, “This is my job. I need to do this-”

“I know.”

“You don’t seem like you do.” He continues, “You’re constantly asking and-”

“That’s not true-”

“But it is. Every time you call, it’s always this same thing… I’m tired.” He sighs his words at the end.

You stay silent for a few seconds, letting his words sink in.

“I’m… just worried about you.” You whisper and he sighs, “I- I didn’t mean to-to interrupt you or to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

Tears well up at your eyes and a small shaky breath escapes your mouth, yet it isn’t picked up by the phone.

Michael stays silent as well, making your heart ache more by each second.

You blink your tears away and look up at the window beside you, letting the streetlights shine into your cold and lonely room.

Your bed is still made. The wind of the winter is still hitting the old windows harshly, making them whistle as they hold themselves together. But that is all you have, their whistle and the soft lighting.

Other than that, is you and your silence.

“Well, if I’m such a burden to you then maybe it’s better if we stop talking to each other.” You let the hurtful words escape your mouth before you could even catch them. Too late to take them back.

You don’t hear anything from the other side of the call. For a few seconds you believe that Michael had ended the call before you even said anything else, but his voice comes back.

His voice comes back and shatters the silence with the bitter truth.

“Okay.”

And after that, all Michael heard was the small and weak beeps signalizing the end of the call. Signalizing the end of you and him ever being together. Signalizing the end of your long relationship.

And the supposed end of your love for him and his love for you. Just… the end.

You tilt your head to the side as Michael continues to kiss down your neck and you close your eyes. Your hand is lost on his hair as you get lost in thought. Why does the memory need to come back now?

Michael lifts his head and looks down at you. The look on your eyes confused him and he pulls back to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, fearing the worst.

You don’t answer, yet your hand moves to cup the side of his face. He leans closer to your palm and your heart tightens.

He’s sorry. He apologized. He regrets it. He wants to take it back. Michael. Your Michael wants to take it back.

You pull him closer to you and you reconnect your lips with his. The kiss is soft all over again and the feeling is enough to push all those awful memories and thoughts away.

Your hands travel down his cheeks to his neck and lightly travel down to his chest and his stomach. Your feather like touch makes Michael’s skin erupt into chills from how soft and light it is.

“I love you.” You whisper into his lips.

He looks at you in the eyes and whispers his answer back.

“And I love you.”

Your fingers fidget with the button of his pants and soon unbutton it with a quick movement. Michael looks down at your hands and smiles, looking back up and presses a kiss onto your jaw.

He pulls away, and without wasting any more time or feeding more into your impatience, he takes a hold of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your underwear and your stomach. Michael takes a hold of the sides of your undergarments and pulls them down your smooth legs.

The cold air and the sight steal small, almost inaudible, gasps from the two of you. Another piece of clothing flies off to the side, which makes you chuckle slightly, and Michael smiles at the sound of your laughter.

You stare up at the tree above you for a second and you soon feel soft kisses being pressed at the bottom of your stomach. It has been long enough since you’ve felt something like this, yet it feels familiar, which makes sense.

It is still Michael. It has just been a long time.

“Michael,” You call out of him, holding yourself up by your elbows, “There’s no time for this, please.”

You didn’t have to say twice, because Michael quickly rose his body back up and pressed a kiss into your lips again.

There’s the sound of his zipper and soon the shifting of fabric and while lost in the kiss, Michael lays you back on the ground comfortably. His hand grabs into your leg and squeezes it softly, feeling himself lost for a second as your soft hands travel through his skin.

You gasp into the kiss as you feel him press into your entrance and Michael clenches his jaw at the sudden warmth touching him. You pull him close to you and Michael’s spear hand almost digs into the ground as he hides his head on your neck.

His other hand aligns him and slowly, he moves his hips towards yours. You groan lowly at the intrusion and he stops, giving you time as he doesn’t you to feel any kind of discomfort.

Your hand, that holds the back of Michael’s head, closes and he moves slightly again, moving in closer and closer to you, taking your movements as a hint for him to keep going. His cock slowly sliding into you, inch by inch, letting your warmth and wetness envelop him into its familiar hold that he so missed.

You gasp and he holds himself steady right as your take him all in. He lifts his head to check on you and his lips pepper your skin with soft kisses, some lost in his uneven breathing as he does so.

“You can move.” You whisper at him.

He doesn’t say anything, he lifts a few inches away from you and his hand comes back to your thigh. His movements start and they soon become thrusts.

Your soft gasps evolve into moans and Michael swears he’s dreaming. Your sounds are complete music to his ears, making them vibrate at the sweetness they carry, and, god, he had missed this.

Slowly, his thrusts start to accelerate, and your eyes force themselves closed. The way Michael’s hips hit yours and the way you squeeze him is driving the both of you insane. Your nails are digging into his arm as a small ball of pleasure starts to build up at the end of your stomach.

Michael lifts his arm and lays his hand beside your head. He eyes your body, still covered by the almost see-through fabric.

His breathing his loud and the sound of your bodies colliding with each other is all that fills your ears. His hand lets go of your leg and goes to your waist, his eyes analyzing your chest.

Michael presses a kiss on your sternum, over your dress and you arch your back at the feeling of his soft and warm lips. He clenches his jaw as the fabric stretches and exposes your chest to him, braless, nipples peeking through and appearing noticeable.

A shear layer of sweat covers the top of Michael’s forehead as the wind cools the warmth the both of you are creating. He lowers his head again and kisses you over the fabric of your dress that hugs your body so beautifully.

He looks down at where the two of you connect and a groan escapes his lips.

He, without any warning, grabs into your leg again and pulls up to your chest, letting another soft moan escape your mouth.

“Fuck, Michael…” You whisper at him.

He lifts off you and brings his other hand to your other leg. Still thrusting into your pussy, the sight as just improved to Michael, while you are lost at the difference it made to just rise your legs.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He mumbles at you, voice almost breaking into a whisper from his heavy breathing.

You throw your head back as his movements speed up and the pleasure in you intensifies.

After so long, it almost feels unreal to feel such emotion. It is more than pleasure, it’s an explosion of emotions.

All of those same emotions have been bottled up at the back of your mind and long forgotten, almost as if you had dismissed them because you didn’t believe you would ever feel them ever again.

But they are back and you’re feeling them at such a rate that you feel like tears are starting to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

You’ve probably thought this a thousand times, but, god, it feels like you’re dreaming. You pray that this won’t end in any way close to how your dreams usually do, but in a way, you’re not worried.

You don’t fear a bad ending in this, you don’t feel scared or anxious. You feel good. You feel happy and loved. Loved by someone who has shown way more love to you than any other person.

Someone you would vow to never stop loving if it meant that he will never leave your side. Someone that has never belonged to someone the same way he has belonged to you. No matter who has or will come in between you, you know the truth and you believe that it is the truth.

He loves you. He hurt you, but he loves you. He showed he was sorry, he apologized- Jesus, he saved your life. He didn’t let you die in his arms. He cried and feared your death right when you were bleeding a puddle into the ground.

Michael belongs to you and nobody else. He knows it, and he has told that himself that many times before. Now more than ever.

He belongs to you and you belong to him. And that is just how it is, and how it always will be.

A/N.: I am not going to lie... I cried when proofreading Michael’s confession about his feelings. I’m such a cry baby, god.

[Sorry that the apology part was so shit. I, myself, struggled with justify that shit and got myself annoyed with it.]

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Hope you enjoyed this! If would like to make any questions about the characters or when the next part will be available. My ask box is always open.