#( erik & madison. )

[mosneakers]

The hot summer sun cast a warm glow over the privileged patrons of the Sunset Valley Country Club. The Darling sisters, growing like weeds every day, splashed in the pool, blissfully unaware of the silent disapproval of onlookers.

Morgana Wolff gazed with adoration, as the heavily pregnant Agnes Darling basked in the warm rays of the sun. "Goodness Agnes, you're just glowing." She admired.

"Oh, quit it, you!" Agnes scoffed.

"No, I mean it!" Morgana added. "Your complexion looks flawless, and that hair of yours is so shiny and bouncy. Must be those vitamins you've been taking."

Agnes's mind flashed back to a memory of some old wives' tale Bianca Crumplebottom had shared with her the last time the Crumplebottom Sisters paid a visit:

"Blossoming in the bottom of the belly, a daughter spends her time mimicking her mother's actions, and thieving her of her divine beauty. Yet, a son nestled within, enchants his mother with radiant grace."

"Well it's because I'm having a boy, if you believe in nonsense." Agnes replied with an irritable eyeroll.

"That's absurd, darling. You were gorgeous through all your pregnancies." She grinned. Morgana had always been a loyal friend to Agnes, but it was when Agnes was with child, that a particular instinct within Morgana kicked in. She protected Agnes fiercely, especially during the day when Erik was away at work, faithfully concealing her own longing for the maternal bliss Agnes experienced.

Agnes dismissed the old wives' tales as archaic and superstitious. The gender of her child held no importance to her; life had already given her everything she could ever want.

As anticipation grew, Agnes delved into nesting, transforming her makeshift painting studio and home office into a charming little nursery adorned with sunny shades of yellow.

There were various reactions elicited upon announcing the impending arrival of the third Darling child, though the predominant sentiments were ones of joy and support.

...Mostly. With Agnes and Erik dedicating so much of their time to preparing for the new baby, the soon-to-be Darling middle child was left to her own devices, seeking life-long attention from the lurking shadows of her mind...

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[in-amor-veritas]

some of y’all need to stop confusing your fanfiction headcanons about characters with them in the actual show. It feels like sometimes that you’re complaining how they didn’t act the way you thought they would bc you expect them to be the way they are in fic

[hannahwatcheshorror]

THE LOFT (2014)

Some men are sick f*cks. Clever movie. It sort of took a not so clever turn and it had maybe a few too many twists and turns but otherwise a good film. Glad it ended happy.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Some scummy hot dudes get a loft to share and fuck in (they fuck women, not each other). Things take a turn when a death or two happens there (shown in the very beginning).

One girl had killed herself there (which turned out to be a murder) and then the boy who loved her kills himself after realizing that she didn't die by his “gentle” hand, when his fucked up friend sliced her open he actually killed her. (Suicide warning if you choose to watch.) Come see Billy Butcher pre-Butcher!

-----------------------HANNAH WATCHES HORROR--------------------

[hellomynameisghostface]

My Favorite Character From Each "Scream" Movie

Scream: Tatum Riley.

Scream 2: Mickey Altieri.

Scream 3: Jennifer Jolie.

Scream 4: Robbie Mercer.

Scream V: Amber Freeman.

Scream VI: Anika Kayoko.

[a-resplendent-mushroom]

the pain of being a female theatre kid with all-male favorite characters

[rabbitcruiser]

Wayne Gretzky played his final NHL game on April 18, 1999.

[tcmbcy]

"i'm a dilf, right? somebody tried to say i wasn't today and i was kind of offended." closed starter for: @m4ybanks.

[horseslur]

also do i actually,,, get to save herman at some point? or does he get added to my ever-expanded list of npcs im ignoring

[girls-are-weird]

[ID: A jousting knight, on horseback and wearing full armor, lance in hand, with cheering people and banners in the colors of the Swedish flag in the background. End ID.]

The Road is Made by Walking, Chapter 5: Nights are warm and the days are young. PG-13, A Knight's Tale AU, Wille/Simon, romance/humor/drama/jousting-if-I-can-pull-it-off.

With the country at war and the King leading his troops on the battlefield, his regent, the Queen Mother, institutes a series of knightly tournaments to boost the people's morale, much to the chagrin of her younger son.

When one of the participating knights passes away, his starving, ragtag bunch of servants, led by a minstrel with the voice of an angel, impersonate him in the contest with the hope of winning some gold. Eager to write his own fate, and with the age of gallantry slowly coming to a close, this self-made knight may win not just the favor of the public, but also the heart of a prince… and the title of legend.

Read at FFN, AO3.

[spcrtscar]

@gccdgraces

ALL AMERICAN Season 5, Episode 5: I Need Love

[lynnemoonsong]

Anastasia Silverglade: *says that out of the four of them (Erik, Madison, herself, and Linea), Linea is the one with the least fashion sense*

Linea: "'Tschuldigung? This coming from a forty-something trying way too hard to look like she's twenty and on top of that you look like Burdine Maxwell with the hairless dog to match."

Linea: "Also, what is wrong with my outfit? I look cute, thank you very much. So."

[lukesvangelista]

𝐈'𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔ˡʰ⁴³

in which y/n and luke hate each other’s guts. sometimes, they kiss.

warnings; ohio state - michigan rivalry, luke’s a dick, kissing, situationship

It was no secret that you and Luke Hughes hated each other. 

It started in college. Luke had everything going for him at Michigan. From the moment he arrived, he was the face of the Wolverines - a Hughes brother, destined for greatness. He was the golden boy of college hockey, a standout player known for consistently putting up impressive stats. It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

A year later, as Luke was about to enter his sophomore season, you arrived at Ohio State. The attention placed on him ended as quickly as it started.You were a dynamic force whose talent and tenacity on the ice made you a formidable rival to Michigan’s golden boy. While Luke was a talented defenseman, you were a just as talented offensive player known for your agility and sharp instincts. This earned you a reputation as a top contender in the world of ice hockey.

Luke could deal with that. However, one crucial play defined the entirety of your guys’ rivalry from there on out. Ohio State vs. Michigan, tied 2-2 in overtime. Joe Dunlap had passed you the puck from your defensive zone, and you had noticed that Luke had left a crucial area of the ice uncovered, just enough for you to slip by him. As he fought his hardest to catch up with you, you made one simple deke, sending the puck past Erik Portillo and sealing the victory for your Buckeyes.

From then on, he had hated your guts. And he had made it known, sending unwarranted glares your way and always checking you extra hard in games. Naturally, your hatred for him grew as well. The rivalry between you and Luke was palpable, and it reverberated through every game you guys played. Fans, coaches, and teammates alike could feel the electricity in the air when Ohio State and Michigan faced off (and it was more than just the bitter rivalry between schools), a charged atmosphere that heightened with every fiery clash between the two of you. Your intense exchanges on the ice were more than just competitive – they were personal, with every check and goal underscored by the underlying animosity between you two. Off the ice, the tension was equally evident. You would be sure to let your teammates know your distaste for him, and he would do the same.

There was no fixing it, until Luke was called up by New Jersey. There would be no more playing against you for the next few seasons.

Or so he thought.

To everyone’s surprise, you had forewent your remaining eligibility at Ohio State. The Rangers had drafted you in the first round, and wanted you in the show immediately.

The day after, the first headline came out: Golden Boy vs. Golden Girl.

In fact, the first meeting since the two of you had last faced each other on the ice started just a few hours ago. The game was reaching its climax, with both the Devils and the Rangers locked in to win in front of the crowd at Madison Square Garden. 

Luke was in his element, skating with the fluidity and precision that everyone always attributed to him. You were equally as determined, matching his intensity shift for shift. The tension between the two of you had reached a boiling point, and it seemed as if every move made was a direct counter to one another.

As the puck dropped near the Devils’ zone, you sped down the ice, looking to make a play that could turn the game in New York’s favor. You were focused, your eyes locked on the puck as you maneuvered around defenders like you had played in the NHL for years. 

Luke, however, had a different idea. As you approached, he timed his move perfectly, sliding into your path with a calculated, unprovoked hit that sent you crashing hard into the boards. You lay there, struggling to get up, your face contorted in pain. Luke skated away with a smirk, his eyes flickering with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, “Sorry, L/N.”

Luke Hughes hated you. You hated Luke Hughes.

Which is why it was so weird that you now sat in the corner of the hotel lobby, your hood pulled low over your bruised eye, the anonymity of the crowd soothing your frayed nerves. The game had been brutal—physically and mentally. Every time Luke was on the ice, it felt like a battle you couldn’t win. Not because he was better—you’d never admit that—but because he always found a way to get under your skin.

Your heart pounded. You shouldn’t go. You guys shouldn’t keep doing this. No one knew—no one could know. But after every game, no matter how much you swore it would be the last time, you always found yourself answering his texts.

Luke didn’t look up when you slipped into his room, the door clicking softly behind you. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands like he was trying to figure out what to say before he said it.

You leaned against the door, your heartbeat still racing and your body still sore from the game. The silence stretched between you guys, heavy and charged, like it always did. Here, in the quiet, there were no crowds, no coaches yelling from the bench, no rivalry pushing you to be perfect. Just the two of you, trapped in a mess neither of you could quite untangle.

“You played dirty tonight,” you said softly, your words breaking the silence. There was no anger in your tone—just exhaustion.

Luke looked up at you then, his eyes tired but sharp, a faint smirk on his lips. “So did you.”

You let out a soft breath, moving from the door to stand in front of him, her arms crossing over your chest. “This needs to stop.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he sat back on his hands, studying you like he always did, as if searching for the truth behind your words. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t wrong. Every time you told yourself it was the last game, the last kiss, the last night you’d sneak into his hotel room, you found yourself right back here, standing on the edge of something neither of you could control.

“I do.” your voice was soft but shaky, betraying your resolve.

Luke stood, closing the small gap between your bodies in one step. His presence was overwhelming, the heat of him, the scent of his body wash. Everything about him felt like a challenge—on the ice, in the press, even here, in this room.

“You don’t hate me as much as you think you do, Y/N.” His voice was low, a whisper that made you shiver.

You hated how close he was, hated that he could read you so easily. “And you don’t care as little as you pretend to,” you shot back, your eyes locking with his.

That smirk faltered, just for a moment, before his jaw tightened. “Maybe not,” he admitted quietly.

There it was. The vulnerability he only ever showed when you were alone, when you weren’t in front of your teams or your fans, when you didn’t have to pretend. You hated that it made your chest ache, hated that you cared.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, like you were afraid saying it out loud would make it all too real.

Luke reached up, his fingers brushing a loose strand of your hair from your face, his touch soft in a way that made your heart twist. “Neither do I.”

And there it was. The truth that neither of you wanted to admit. That this—whatever it was—had become something neither of you could walk away from, no matter how much you told yourselves you should.

You felt yourself lean into him, just slightly, your body betraying your mind. “No one can know,” you murmured, your eyes closing as his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“No one will,” he whispered back, and then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t the rushed, heated kiss you’d shared so many times before. It was slow, deliberate, full of all the things you couldn’t say out loud. His hand stayed at the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin as if he was trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed him back just as softly, your hands gripping his shirt, not to pull him closer, but to keep yourself steady.

When the two of you finally broke apart, your foreheads pressed together, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt different now, heavier.

“You know this is going to blow up in our faces, right?” you said, your breath still uneven.

Luke closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I know.”

You sighed, stepping back, needing space but already feeling the pull to close it again. “We’re still enemies, Luke.”

“I know,” he said, his voice steady. But the way he looked at you, the way his gaze softened just for you, made it hard to believe it was that simple anymore.

You reached for the door, your heart still racing, knowing you’d come back. You always did.

And maybe, deep down, you both knew that was the real problem.

[zosa95]

Future Story Snippet

Thank you for the tag @lynzishell 💗

Since I am so damn slow at posting these days, I'll offer snippets from three future scenes/posts.

[phone call] Jude: You made assumptions. You know what happens when you assume you make an ass-- Jude cackled when Chessie let loose a stream of Tartosan curses. He wasn't sure, but she might have said his balls would shrivel up and fall off on the next full moon. Jude: You kiss your nonna with that mouth? Chessie: I will throttle you the next time I see you. Do you have her phone number?

Gemma: (hesitantly) I'm not sure how much to share. Edward: (firmly) Everything. Gemma: (rapidly) It was a free love commune. The leader, Cosmo, was the love of her life. He died of cancer, and she left the commune after that. She has mentioned orgies. She thinks I'm uptight because I've never engaged in a threesome, and I protested when she shared her fantasies of Markus-- Markus: Gem-ma, that part could have been left out!

Markus spotted Madison -- the company's young protegee, as suggested by Erik-- chatting on the sidewalk with another woman. Madison's hacking skills were beyond her years; Markus was relieved she was on his team, not an opponent. Her youth and enthusiasm invigorated his team, and Markus could find little to no fault in her other than her explaining slang and trends to him like he was ninety-three years old instead of thirty-three. As Markus drew closer, he realized that the woman Madison was with was the same woman he'd seen with Beatrice. Madison stared hard at Markus as if she were sending him a signal. The other woman turned and offered a coy smile.

Tagging: @dresdendarlin @cliosimming @sirianasims @bakersimmer @queeniecook @rebouks @miss-may-i and YOU! (participation optional)

[tcmbcy]

@m4ybanks

[rabbitcruiser]

Wayne Gretzky played his final NHL game on April 18, 1999.

[maybe-i-will-fandom]

halloween costume headcanons:

• Julie: Since Madison Reyes auditioned with Waitress, I HC that the Molinas used to go see Broadway shows together when they toured to LA. So I think the band + Flynn and Carlos would have definitely talked her and Luke into being Christine and Erik from Phantom of the Opera. I mean, come on, right!? Her voice and his being dead it would be so meta.

• Luke: ^

• Reggie: Han Solo. With a cowboy hat.

• Alex: I think he would be nervous/self conscious to go out in a costume. But I do think the boys would have easily cajoled him into being a Ken from the Barbie movie

+ bonus:

• Carlos: a sheet over himself to go as a ghost. Just to mess with the boys. Also he would totally rib on Reggie for that time he scared the shit out of him and Tia