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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

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🛏 Too Many Beds

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor Summary: Lando had a master plan to get you in his bed. Too bad everyone seems to mess it up. And who knew you were terrified of bed bugs?

this was so much fun to write and I'm so excited for this mini series! New upload schedule will probably be Reputations on Friday and Reverse Tropes on Saturday!

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Your hand gripped your suitcase as you stood in the lobby of the hotel. Of course, McLaren thought that it would be a good idea for some more team bonding before the season started and book an entire hotel. However, they forgot to mention that some of the people had to share rooms.

How you got placed with Lando, you didn’t know. You had seen Oscar snickering earlier when Zac had read the list of who shared what room. Your face was beat red as you tried to hide in your team zip up. Your eyes flickered to Lando, only to find him fast asleep against the window of the bus. There was some drool on his lip, and anyone else would have found that semi-disgusting.

But not you.

It was kind of…endearing.

But now that you were getting your key card and were in the elevator with a very sleepy Lando, your heartrate increased. You had tried to get your own room when you had gotten there, but Zac was intent with you sharing.

Something about driver and engineer comradery.

The floor before when Oscar got off, he had leaned over and whispered, “Have fun with the one bed.”

That statement made your face even redder. Of course that would happen to you. It was straight out of Tumblr or Wattpad. The one trope that you seemed to hate over everything. One bed normally meant that it was a single or a queen. And you were known for flopping everywhere.

Poor Lando probably wouldn’t get to sleep before the first rounds of development.

Although he was sleepy, Lando, on the other hand, was vibrating with excitement.

He had the whole thing planned out. He had requested to be put in a room with you. And then he swapped rooms with Oscar, because the Aussie had a girlfriend, ergo he had a single bed room. It was going to be perfect. Oscar would get the room with two beds, and Lando would just have to share a bed with you.

The Briton had had heart eyes for you ever since you joined his rookie season in 2019. And when you had been promoted to his race engineer, the crush he had grew tenfold. He could see your face getting more red the longer it took to get to the room.

“You ready?” he asked you before he used his card to unlock the door.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, just wanting to sleep. At this point, you were planning to go to bed right away so that you didn’t have to deal with Lando crawling into bed behind you. You’d be asleep at that point, giving yourself no time to ogle at his chest (if he slept with a shirt off as most guys did.)

The click of the lock indicated that the door could be opened and Lando took the initiative. This was it.

Lando was going to live his dream.

Except, his heart dropped when he noticed that there wasn’t one bed.

There wasn’t even two beds.

The room had three beds.

What. the. actual. fu....

Lando was going to kill whoever messed this up. His heart dropped farther when he saw your eyes kind of light up at the sight of beds to choose from. The McLaren driver bit his lip as he assessed the problem.

You missed Lando’s agitation and put your things on the bed by the window. You turned to Lando, now confused at his pinched eyebrows.

“Did you want the one by the window?” you asked, suddenly mad at yourself for just going ahead without asking the driver his preference.

Lando immediately shook his head. “I like sleeping by the bathroom.”

You gave him a smile. “Ok. Can I shower real fast? I go to sleep a little early.”

That was a lie. You just didn’t want to be awake when Lando went to bed. Who knows what you’d be staring at. Your mind immediately went to the abs and v-line. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the unholy thoughts.

You quickly opened your suitcase, grabbed your pajamas, and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Once Lando was sure that you wouldn’t come out, he quickly pulled out his phone and texted Oscar. It was to his horror that Oscar had sent a picture of the singular king that was supposed to hold you and Lando in tonight.

Except that now it would be for Oscar and Oscar only.

The Briton wanted to rip his hair out. He started pacing before he knew it.

How could he fix this?

He could lie and say he had separation anxiety and needed to sleep with someone. But you’d see right through and ask who else he’d shared a bed with.

He could spill a drink on your bed? That also wouldn’t work because then you’d question why he had a drink around your things while you were in the shower. Lando didn’t want to come off as a giant creep.

He was still pacing when he heard the door open up.

His body turned to face you, but he immediately averted his eyes. Not because you were undressed, but because your pajamas were the cutest thing on you. You were wearing one of those silk tank tops with the smallest shorts possible.

Lando watched as your feet got closer to your bed. His thoughts were flying around at 100 miles an hour. He had to do something quickly. Your hand pulled back the bedding when Lando yelled.

“Hold on. I think I saw some bugs on my bed and yours.”

The screech that you let out made Lando wince. You reeled back as though the duvet had burnt you. You quickly made your way closer to Lando.

“Where are the bed bugs?”

Lando couldn’t really tell, but he thinks he can hear your teeth chattering. You were getting antsy.

“Are you that scared of some small bugs?”

You crept closer to Lando.

“My childhood house got infected and we had to move. I also got such a bad infection from bites.”

Lando immediately felt terrible. He didn’t know. If he had, he wouldn’t have said anything and just sucked it up and slept in his own bed. He looked at you. He could see that you were close to tears. His arm immediately went around your shoulders and brought you closer.

You huffed. “Can we go down to see if they have any other rooms on our floor?”

The brunet nodded. He looked you up and down before he turned around and dug through his suitcase. You wondered what he was doing before a hoodie hit your chest. It was the dark green one that you absolutely loved on him. You gave him a confused look.

“Ah, your pajamas.”

Oh.

You looked down and realized that you were just in a very thin tank.

Without a bra.

And the room was cold.

Your face flushed as you quickly pulled the hoodie over your head. The ends of the hoodie landed mid-thigh. You knew Lando was taller than you, but you didn’t expect his hoodie to fall that far down.

Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you and you giggled and did a little spin, showing off how the green material looked on you.

You were so worried that you’d have a staring problem, that you completely missed Lando’s staring problems.

Once you were done, you headed to the doorway, Lando hot on your feet. He should have felt guilty about lying, but you were in his clothes and that made every feeling go away. The elevator ride was quiet, but comforting instead of awkward. The ding of the machine signaled that you two made it to the ground floor.

Lando stepped out first, followed by you. Before you got to the front desk, Lando pulled the back of the hoodie, making you halt. You gave him a confused look. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed you his card.

“I know you’re a bit scared of the bugs, so I’ll handle it. You want to get us some snacks?”

Lando melted at your eyes lighting up as you nodded. You wordlessly took his card and spun around, now walking in the direction of the little shop. He knew that you were always picky with snacks, so he’d have a bit of time.

He exhaled heavily as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist cocked an eyebrow, probably not expecting anyone at this late hour.

His hands rested on the counter.

“So, me and a friend are staying in room 444, and I might have seen a few bed bugs on one of the beds.”

Lando winced as he lied. The lady’s eyes widened and she started typing.

“Ok, we’ll have someone come up and inspect it with one of our bug-dogs.”

Another wince. “Is that really necessary? Can we just move rooms?”

Some more typing. “I don’t think that’s possible sir. We have to inspect the room just in case. If it’s all clear, then the room will still be able to be slept in.”

Lando looked around before leaning in slightly.

“Ok, here’s the deal. I’m in love with the friend that I’m staying with. We were supposed to have a room with a single bed so I could make a move. But something happened and we got placed in a room with three beds instead of one. I panicked and lied about the bugs. Is there any way I can just switch rooms? I'll pay extra.”

Lando had hope in his eyes as he heard more typing.

“I’m sorry sir, but there aren’t any more rooms available for tonight. You’ll have to stay in the room you have.”

He hung his head as he nodded.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he muttered. When he turned around, he was met with you holding multiple snacks and some drinks. He hoped that you hadn’t heard anything. Thankfully, you didn’t mention his conversation.

As you walked into the elevator you asked, “So do we get to move rooms?”

Lando sighed. “There aren’t any available.”

You chewed on your lip. “Maybe, we can look at the middle bed and see if there are any there?”

He could kiss you right then and there. Lando went quiet for a minute.

“Only if that’s ok with you?”

You immediately nodded.

“I just don’t want any bugs on me. I think you’ll be able to keep me safe.”

The attempt at the wink that followed made Lando laugh as he got off the elevator. You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed him. Lando thought it was the cutest thing he ever heard. When you stepped into the room, you first headed to your luggage to pull it off the “bug infested” bed.

You placed it high on one of the dressers. Lando followed in suit.

Before you knew it, you and Lando were both under the covers of the middle bed after a full inspection that it was safe.

Lando was a bit skeptical that you hadn’t pushed to inspect the bed you were supposed to sleep in. Part of him wanted to believe that you also wanted to share a bed. But he wouldn’t dwell on the thought.

The snacks that you bought were quickly consumed, laughter shared between the two of you as you watched videos on Lando’s phone. You didn’t know exactly when it happened, but your head had started to rest on his shoulder. Lando took this opportunity to put his arm around the back of your neck.

Lando remained oblivious and was sure that this plan was working. You were scared and found sanctuary in his arms.

Except for the fact that you had overheard everything. Your phone was currently buzzing with messages from Oscar but you’d never let Lando know that.

Well.

You sighed as you unattached yourself from Lando’s side. You turned your face so that you could look into his eyes.

Half the time, you didn’t even know what color they were. Some days they were the brightest blue, others they looked more green, and the in the shade they were brown.

You smirked as you got closer.

“So, what did you tell the lady about getting me into your bed hm?”

You watched as a blush invaded Lando’s face before he put his hands over his face. Tik Tok was abandoned on the bedsheets below.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. You brought your hands up and peeled his own away from his face. Lando’s eyes flickered as he looked for some type of malice on your face. However, he only saw a smirk and a fiery look. He inhaled sharply.

“I have had a major crush on you since 2019. And when Zac said he’d be pairing people up, I begged him to get a room with one bed for us. We were supposed to switch with Oscar and this room was supposed to only have one bed. But, I guess Zac took it upon himself to already do it so I wouldn’t have to switch, but we did anyway.”

“Lando, I know. You think Oscar could keep a secret for that long?”

The brunet paused, blinked, stared at you, and blinked again.

“I’m going to kill Oscar.”

You giggled, making Lando melt once again.

“You’re not going to kill Oscar.”

A grumble escaped his lips as they turned into a pout. You took this moment to lean down and lightly peck them.

Once again, Lando froze.

“So, should we actually get some sleep?”

He could only nod his head, still not comprehending that you had actually kissed him and his plan worked semi-well.

You turned around and rested your head on the pillow. Just a few moments later, Lando’s arm found a home in the crook of your waist. He gently pulled, bringing your back closer to his chest.

So maybe he didn’t actually sleep shirtless, but that was fine because his head dug into your neck, just at your hairline. Lando breathed in deeply, getting situated.

Maybe the one bed trope did work.

You felt him smirk against your neck, but you thought he was close to sleep.

Until he spoke up.

“Sleep tight Y/n. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“I’m going to murder you instead.”

y/n_l/n has posted

y/n_l/n I let the love bug bite 🐞 🌲

liked by mclaren, lando_norizz, papayaduo, oscarpiastri, and 104,948 others

y/nxlando UHHH HARD LAUNCH??

papaya.nation I knew that sweatshirt looked familiar when they walked in the paddock today!

landonorris4 the fact that he had a back up hoodie as well

formulala_delulu the couple who matches together - stays together 💚

oscarpiastri good to see that it all worked out in the end 😌

y/n_l/n let's not do that again, ok?

landonorris I thought you liked it tho 😙

y/n_l/n let it be know, you don't possess any rizz

oscarpiastri 🫵😂

loscar I need to know the lore behind this

norris4ever maybe he'll get a win now that he doesn't have to pine after y/n

mclaren814 my parents!

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kisses4reid · 3 months

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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid series

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poetryinsilence · 2 years

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#i've uploaded my assessment fucking finally #my body deserves a rest #i can go back to writing and do whatever the fuck i want #but first imma lay on the floor and do nothing for the next few hours

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uhitsum · 4 months

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Assessing the damage

before i started uploading these photos, i had no idea how fat i actually looked 🥲

guess all those binges and stuffings gotta go somewhere 🤤😏

#gaining fat #gaining weight on purpose #gay gainer #teen gainer #gaining kink #belly gainer #belly k!nk #chub kink #chubby #ace gainer #chubby boy #asexual gainer #belly appreciation #gaining #gut

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dxtreza · 7 months

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⋆｡°✩ nxx-ray; artem, marius, vyn, luke (tot)

⋆ summary: what've they got going on down there? ⋆ xtra: afab mc, nsfw under the cut! first upload, so excited. reqs open in ask box; fandoms are in bio ⋆ wc: 1.7k (includes drabble under artem's hc)

i. artem wing

tbh i think he'd be pretty insecure because mc his canonically his first true experience with romance, concerned about his size even though he knows it's irrational; from hearing what marius gossips about artem probably thinks he's below average. he'll learn through your reassurance that this is not the case. he's literally the goldilocks zone. he's not insanely big, but still above average. i'd say about 5.6 inches and tilts slightly upward (6.0 measuring with the curve), ranges from about 5 to 5.5 inch girth (2.5 inch diameter). tip has a complete ridge, his skin is of a slightly darker shade than the rest of his body. he's pretty too, smooth moisturized skin with a thick vein on the bottom. really really sensitive head and balls- won't admit it but he loves it when you smooth your palm on them. it's reactive, too- his cock jumps and twitches at the slightest bit of arousal. as for hygeine: kempt, but not obsessively so. i don't think he'd have that much body hair, but he likes to keep a bit of a happy trail and a small tuft of hair at the base of his cock.

"artem... what's got you so serious?" you ask quietly, paying attention to the way that his sighs have stopped. his lips have pulled themselves in a tight line, brows furrowed as he nearly scowls off into the distance. at your words he clears his throat, rubbing the small of your back with his thumbs and shaking his head slightly. he seems to have lost his enthusiasm now that you guided him out of the pitch darkness of his study and into the lamplight of his room, awkwardly sliding under the covers. his response comes slowly as he thinks.

"it's fine, just nervous." he says curtly, reaching for the lamp to turn it off. you swat his hand away, grabbing it and making a move with your free hand to cup the bulge in his black briefs. he shudders when he feels your breath on his neck, free hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer as you whisper. "you're absolutely sure? nothing to do with the fact that i can see you now?"

he gulps at this, turning his head away and nodding once. "i... it's just different than your hand in the car, or under the desk in my study. in the regard that i can see that you see me, i mean." there's a shaky undertone to his voice, and the end of his sentence lilts as if there were a question on his tongue. "i'm not sure who you've had before, but i might not be able to compare in some respects."

it's confusing at first- he's big, why would he be thinking this sort of thing? you've held him in both your mouth and hand before, felt the weight of him and the way he can reach the back of your throat. he's not joking by the looks of it, a blush high on his cheeks with his admittance. "can you let me disprove that, baby?" you ask, and he's already reaching for lube from the bedside table. he hesitates for a condom, but remembers you're both clean. artem warms the lube on his hand before rubbing it along your entrance, seething to himself when you pull his cock free from his boxers.

you're already prepped from when he had you on his thigh in the study, but looking at him in the light, you would need to be stretched a bit. he's shaking now as you assess him, mouth pulled taught at the corners and gaze wavering. artem eases a bit when you guide his middle and ring finger to push into you, though he seems puzzled. you sigh when he curls his hand, leaning into his neck to answer his confused gaze. "you're not gonna fit unless we do this."

bit by bit, he's relaxing, and you tap his wrist for him to pull his fingers out of you. he blushes when he brings them up to his mouth, cautiously tasting you and looking towards your eyes for approval. you meet him with a kiss, giving him a few quick pumps before easing his head in. he moans into your mouth at this, eyelashes fluttering as his hands come to rest against your hips.

the more you take him, the more noises spill from him. its intoxicating, breaking him bit by bit as his nails dig into the soft flesh of your sides and trace circles against your spine. you grab his chin, directing his face to look down where you two join. you're nearly seated fully against him, with still half an inch to take. his hips go slightly rigid when you whimper, and then it clicks in his brain that you need help with the rest. any doubt he had quickly falls away when you whine against his cheek, grasping at the sheets under him as he slowly shifts his hips up.

artem can't help but to cry out pathetically when he's fully inside, sheathed snugly just in front of your cervix. the noise spills from his plush lips, breaking at the end when you squeeze slightly. "feel how tight that is baby? you're a perfect fit..." you coo to him, interlacing one of your hands with his and brushing the hair out of his face as you sit up. he shifts with you, sliding against the headboard so he could still press your chest to his while you rode him.

"not gonna... last." he bites out the moment you start to move, enveloping your mouth in a heated kiss. it's unlike the chaste ones you usually receive, this time fueled by some deep desire artem had never previously expressed. he meets your hips with a thrust, causing you to choke on your air and whine into his skin. he's stuttering now, unable to make any coherent phrases other than please and oh my god. it's cute in a way, until he's got you right there with him and you're unable to control the way your head buzzes and your eyelids twitch when he's stimulating you so desperately.

"artem-!" it comes out in a shriek, and in your last moments of coherence you shove your tongue into his mouth and bear down with a tight squeeze around his cock. he groans as his hips stall and buck up one final time, trying to thrust through his orgasm with weak sighs and whimpers. it's not long before he's detaching from you, checking your body for bruises and whining when he has to pull you off of him. it seems he had a lot to give; his cum drips down the inside of your thigh and he grimaces at the sight, feeling guilty for the mess.

you heave, rubbing your head as you come down from the high he gave you so easily. "i've never... you know, that fast." you mumble, and he's already scooping you up to carry you to the bathroom with a worried expression. He looks down when you cup his cheek in your hand, lips parted slightly. "seriously, you're just right, that was the best i've ever had."

it's nearly uncomfortable to say, but worth it when his face turns beet red and he sputters for what to say, sitting you down on the counter and wrapping his arms around you as he breathes a wish to you, one that you're more than happy to grant. "please tell me you'll be the only i ever have."

ii. marius von hagen

knows he's got a good dick. constantly showing you his hands and making it a point that his ring finger is longer than his pointer finger; weird mentality about it, the aforementioned reason artem thinks anything below 6.5 inches is below average- marius seems to think so. almost too big, so much so that it's unrealistic. he's 7.5 inches long and doesn't curve, and a solid 6 inch girth (3 inch diameter). his tip has more of a shallow ridge, and his skin is a few shades darker than the rest of his body. not particularly sensitive unless you press down on his frenulum or very lightly drag your nail where his cock meets his v-line. he's not very veiny, has two prominent ones that branch off. i think marius would also be fairly hygienic, but he has more body hair than artem. he keeps a happy trail as well, and grooms but doesn't really shave that much except to maintain a uniform shape/direction of the hair. he knows it can be a turn off for some people, so just ask and he'll wax everything off.

iii. vyn richter

he's not too privy to what marius loves to spout about himself. doesn't really care for comparison that much; why should he when you're the only one who will see? he can comfortably make you feel good- he doesn't have to split you open to do it. if anything, he's elegant. definitely the most aesthetically pleasing out of all the boys lol. I'd say about 5.4 inches, with a 4.5 inch girth (2.2 inch diameter). extremely veiny, also the most sensitive because of it. they're not very pronounced, just slightly raised off the skin. as for the color, it's the same as his body, with a dusty pink tip; full ridge. i also think he's uncut. also very hygienic. always smells of balm and herbal oil, and routinely shaves clean. he's not too fond of any body hair really, and likely won't grow it out if you ask him. he doesn't care if you have any, though.

iv. luke pearce

another one that doesn't care too much about marius' words, mainly because he thinks that he's joking. slightly below average, but knows how to use it. he's not small by any means, still sizing in at around 4.6 inches. luke has above average girth, though, peaking just below his tip at 5.4 inches. he's curved to the left a little bit, but not enough to notice. a few small veins, but he doesn't have much reaction to you touching them- he's most sensitive when you're giving attention to his slit; just a few seconds is enough to make him practically scream. slightly darker than his body, with a pink tip. hygienic... ish. don't get me wrong, he'll never smell bad or be unclean. he just doesn't pay that much attention to his hair, it's more fun if he gets to watch you do his grooming for him.

#tears of themis x reader #lalala i love artem #artem x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #marius x reader #marius von hagen #marius von hagen x reader #vyn richter #vyn x reader #tears of themis #luke pearce x reader #luke pearce

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samkerrworshipper · 8 months

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i will wait for you | leah williamson x reader, barca women x reader

!!! completed !!!

uploaded a spoiler a week ago but this is it all done xo

You knew that this time when you went down it was different. All you’d been doing was sprinting up the sideline, your eyes focused solely on Alexia as she shot the ball a few feet in front of you. It was a good pass, a good line that had you heading straight for goal, hopefully it would secure your first in the Champions League final against Wolfsburg. It took a mere split second before you collapsed on the ground in complete agony. The umpire's whistle had blown almost immediately, your teammates huddling around you to give you some privacy whilst the medic made their way over to you, everyone trying to figure out what had happened. You were writhing against the pitch, screaming in pain that no one knew the source of. All you could do was sob and reach for your ankle as the medics tried their hardest to assess you and get you loaded onto a stretcher.

You were in unfathomable pain, resulting in the team's medics making the executive decision to pump you full of pain meds before they wheeled you off to the x-ray machines. You were a sobbing mess, the realisation kicking in that you were in so much pain and the realisation that your Champions League dream was over.

The x-rays confirmed your suspicions and you watched from the medical room as your team secured three goals against your opponents and when the whistle finally blew, they all became Champions. You watched as they all fell to their knees on the pitch, they were back to back champions, you were bedridden.

Instead of being out partying with the rest of the girls, you were put on the first flight back to Barcelona, you were in Bilbao, so they loaded you directly onto a medical helicopter and flew straight back to Barcelona. You passed out on the ride their, with the mix of disappointment and drugs mixing in your system to send you into a discomforting slumber.

When you woke up you were in a hospital in Barcelona. A series of doctors outlining to you the severity of your injury and what the coming weeks looked like for you. You tried your hardest to listen to their drawl, but it all went in one ear and came out the other. After they were done you insisted on being discharged, even with their warning words about the fact that it would be best if you stayed for another day or so, just before someone returned to take you back to your apartment and look after you whilst you were on such intense pain meds. You ignored their pleas, insisting that you go home by yourself, you didn’t want nor need their pity.

You got yourself home, in an uber, high off of the pain meds that were the only thing keeping you on your feet. You’d never liked crutches, found them extremely awkward and hard to use. You’d never believed that statement more than right now, as you attempted to crutch your way up the stairs of your apartment so you could make it to your bed. You were woozy on your feet, the drugs you were on making you sway as you tried your very hardest to focus on the step in front of you.

It took everything you had to make it to your bed, the pain, the tears, the pure need you had in your soul to just do it by yourself. You’d never felt more alone in your life, your team was too busy celebrating, your family was too busy doing other things to even think about you. By the time you made it to your bed you were completely spent, throwing yourself down into the sheets and falling into a deep sleep.

You awoke a horrific amount of times during the night, trembles of pain washing across your body directly from your ankle. It was gut wrenching pain, but you’d left your pain meds downstairs and you hardly trusted yourself on crutches during the day, let alone in the middle of the night. So you stayed in your bed, writhing in pain all throughout the night, willing for the sun to arise so you could finally get access to the medication you need so heavily. You knew there were people you could call, even if your teammates were in a different part of Spain. You knew that they would do anything to make you feel better, but you just couldn’t manage it, the guilt of taking away from their win was too much for you to bear.

When the sun finally did rise you tried your hardest to push yourself out of your bed and onto your crutches, but your legs felt like jelly. So instead of doing the rash thing and calling somebody, you pushed yourself down onto the floorboards of your room and started the gruelling process of pushing yourself against the floorboards and towards your stairs.

If crutches managed to hurt your ankle, then scooting yourself against the floors of your house was gruelling, a true struggle. Getting down your stairs was a nightmare, every single bump or nudge against the boot your ankle had been secured in was agony. The clunky thing was no help, it weighed down your ankle and made it a far bigger target for lodging itself on the edge of a stair.

Eventually, with tears flowing freely down your face you made it down the stairs and scooted yourself into the kitchen of your house, where you’d left the medications given to you by your doctors the day before. You reached up to your kitchen bench, clawing whatever you could reach for off of the ledge and brushing them down onto the floor beside you. It took all of your energy to get the medications down on the floor next to you, so you were relieved when you saw that you’d managed to scoop up the oxycodone pills from above you, which you knew would be enough to dull some of the pain you were feeling. You dry swallowed three pills, popping them into your mouth and forcing them down.

You looked across at the staircase in your apartment, your eyes were slowly becoming hooded and you knew you weren’t going to be able to make it back up the stairs, plus your apartment floor wasn’t that uncomfy right now?

You couldn’t help but slump against your kitchen bench, sleep and pain overwhelming you as you passed out on the floor of your kitchen.

“Y/n/n, babygirl, wake up for me.”

It was the feeling of a hand shaking against your face that brought you back to the world. In your drug induced haze it took a few seconds for your eyes to focus on the person responsible for your awakening.

“Ale, what are you doing here?”

You pushed her hand away from you, feeling a little bit vulnerable in your current position as she looked down at you from her position standing above you. Alexia was frowning down at you, and just as you’d finished taking her in you began to realise a lot of your team was piled into your apartment, you couldn’t make out everyone though.

“Bebita, we haven’t heard from you since the game, we’ve all been worried sick, you haven’t been answering anybody’s calls or texts.”

I tried my best to work up whatever courage and dignity I had, which was hard considering I was dressed in an oversized Barcelona champions shirt and whatever shorts the hospital must have been able to find to put me in.

“I’m fine, you can all leave, go back to celebrating.”

They all looked some form of hungover, they should be out partying, celebrating the win, instead they’d congregated in your house, which was honestly making you feel so much worse.

“I won’t have that tone pequeño, you clearly aren’t fine, if you were you wouldn’t be passed out on your kitchen floor after ghosting everybody for the last two days. I know you are in pain, but that does not warrant you pushing everybody out.”

Alexia’s voice was harsh, the voice she reserved for when she was making orders on the pitch, a voice that would normally have you quivering under her, but the mixture of the pain and embarrassment you were feeling was enough fuel for your drugged up state to use.

“Joder! I’m fine, go party, go celebrate, Estoy Bien, Déjame en paz.”

Your tone wouldn’t go over well, you knew that but the confidence from your statement was apparently fuel for you to stand yourself up from the ground on your own. You felt the shooting pain going up your leg almost immediately, as you struggled to balance with only one functioning foot. Alexia knitted her brows together, clenching her jaw as you watched her try to keep her composure, you never pushed a hungover Alexia, it never had a good result.

“I understand that you are in pain and that you don’t want to acknowledge. You need help though, and we have all come to give it, so please just let us.”

I looked at Alexia, she was standing a foot away from me, pure anguish and concern on her face.

“I’m fine, leave me alone, I know you all have celebrations to get back to, so please, go.”

I took a step on my injured foot, a big mistake that had me groaning in pain and Alexia’s arms coming up to my sides to stop me from going any further.

“Bebita, you are a part of that winning team, you deserve to be out celebrating with us, you clearly aren’t fine and we are all here to support you through that, however you need.”

You shook Alexia off of you, trying your very hardest to balance on a foot that wasn’t working,

“Vete a la mierda. Leave, get out of my house.”

You were getting annoyed and aggressive fast and quickly, something that your teammates seemed to pick up on.

“Leahhas called me, probably a 100 times, she’s worried sick about you, you can’t push everybody out forever, just because you are injured does not make you unlovable.”

Alexia’s words echoed against the walls of my house, her voice having risen to meet mine.

“Get out of my house, right now, before I call the police.”

Alexia exhaled deeply, she shooed the rest of the women that had piled themselves into my house out, leaving just you and her. You leant back against your kitchen bench, needing the assistance to keep you on your two feet, the pressure on your ankle becoming too much for you to be able to handle.

“You need help, I don’t care whether or not you know it but you do, we found you passed out on your kitchen floor and if that isn’t a big enough indicator then I don’t know what is. You can push us all out till the cows come home but it’s not achieving anything. You're going to let me take you up the stairs and back to bed, I’ll set you up with your meds and ice packs, I don’t care how much you hate it but I am going to be here for you whether or not you want me to be here.”

You glared at Alexia, your jaw set as a stone as the older women that had quickly become your adoptive older sister at Barca looked at you pointedly. There was no room for argument in her voice, like a drill sergeant.

Alexia walked towards you, taking you in her arms and letting your silent tears drip onto her shirt as she lifted you up, removing the pressure from your foot and carrying you up your stairs and to your bedroom. You cried silently into her, annoyed by the loss of your dignity so openly in front of your teammates. She helped to tuck you into your bed, elevating your ankle onto a pillow and very gently easing it out of the boot it was strapped into. The doctor’s had wrapped it up in bandages to keep it secure, so you were able to remove it from the boot to ice it. Alexia pressed an ice pack to your ankle, before procuring your meds and a drink bottle out of nowhere and leaving them on your bedside.

“Anything else you need?”

You glared straight out at the wall in front of you, lying back in your bed and refusing to look at Alexia.

“Leave.”

Alexia tried her hardest over the next week to get you to let her in. You pushed her out. You refused to leave bed besides going to the bathroom, which was not just detrimental to your physical health but also your mental health. You weren’t on your phone at all, refused to even look at it because you didn’t want to see any of the pity that was being thrown your way. Alexia tried her hardest, she came into your room at 7am every morning, prepped with breakfast that you never ate and your meds that were the only thing keeping you pain free at the moment. She tried her hardest to get you out of bed to go to your recovery appointments, but you refused to leave. Alexia was at her wits end. You needed surgery but a part of your surgery prep was that you needed to do some kind of recovery, that you needed to be strong enough to withstand that kind of toll on your body. You were depressed, something that was detrimental to your wellbeing going into surgery, if you asked the Catalan, you needed a kick up the ass, but nothing was working. Eventually, after day seven, you’d become mobile enough that she didn’t have any excuse to stay in your house anymore, you’d been very vocal about that so she’d left, apprehensively, unsure about what more she could do for you.

“Alexia, I’ve told you to fuck off.”

The sound of somebody's shoes scuffing against your doormat downstairs and your front door closing behind you was enough to make you unhappy. After seven gruelling days you’d finally gotten rid of Alexia, but now she was back and it was making you stir crazy. You could just make out the sound of her bare feet trudging up the stairs, nearing your bedroom door and opening it up.

“Leave me alone.”

You buried your head further into your pillows, pillows that were now beginning to smell a little bit too much like your. You pulled your head as physically close to the pillows as you could, twisting your body as far as you could without dislodging your ankle from its spot elevated on your bed.

“I’m not Alexia, if that helps?”

Your head shot out of your pillow and for a split second you wondered if the oxy delirium was getting to you. Alexia had been weaning you off the hard drugs, giving you less each day and replacing it with ibuprofen, which had the reverse effect on you, making you more delusional than you had been on the full strength drugs, you had more energy now though then you had a few days ago, so you could have just blamed it on you being more awake and present.

“Leah?”

You’d been avoiding your phone for a number of reasons, but number one on the list had been your girlfriend. For some reason, she was always the last person you wanted to talk to when you got injured, it made you feel guilty, ungrateful, especially considering she’d just missed out on playing you in the final this year.

“Hey baby girl.”

She looked exhausted, like she’d just gotten off a plane and it made you feel bad. Leah had spent a lot of time in your home in Barcelona, international breaks, time off, injury time, every time was enjoyable, but this time felt different.

“W-What are you doing here?”

Leah made her way further into your room, walking over to your shades and opening them a little bit, allowing more light then the very little amount that was peaking through the bottom of your shades.

“Alexia called, she said that you were in bad shape, that you needed someone and that someone had to be me. So I got on the first flight I could. She said that what you’d done was serious, full ankle ligament tears, all four of them and that you were struggling, so I got here as soon as I could.”

You let your bottom lip worry in between your teeth, as you watched Leah make her way around your room, picking up the loose articles of clothing that were on your floor, memories of Alexia fighting with you to get changed ran through your mind, a daily battle that always ended with you crying and screaming at her. Leah flung it all into your laundry basket, a little task that she always gave herself, always scared that one of us would trip and fall on a piece of clothing in the middle of the night, that fear now having escalated with crutches being brought into the picture.

“I’m fine, I would have called if I needed you, you're supposed to be with the team, they need you now more than I do.”

Leah turned back around to you, shedding her hoodie and slinging it into the laundry basket before addressing your sentence.

“Would you have? Because you didn’t and you seemed to be struggling pretty hard, Alexia called me, balling her eyes out because she was so scared that you were going to never leave bed. The girls need me, but you need me more right now, whether you know it or not, so I’m here, whatever you need, I’m here, for as long as you need.”

Leah sat herself down on the opposite edge of my bed, the one that was cold and empty. You looked at her anxiously, trying to decide whether or not you could fall into her right now, if she would catch you.

“I’m fine.”

Your tone betrayed anything you said, your voice wavering and shivering like a leaf in the wind.

“It’s okay if you aren’t, you know that I’m here for you no matter what.”

Leah’s hand came down to rest on your bicep, squeezing your arm gently.

“Leah, I told you, I’m fine, I’m good, I don’t need a doting girlfriend here trying to tell me that I’m fucking lovable, I don’t need you.”

You sniffled softly as you tried your very hardest to continue to block Leah out, a task that was proving to be a little bit harder than you’d thought. You loved the woman, with every single part of your body and soul, she was your home. But right now, everything felt so.. Wrong. You didn’t feel like yourself, you didn’t feel like the woman that Leah loved, you felt so fucking worthless.

“I don’t believe you honey.”

Leah’s voice was insecure, this wasn’t her girlfriend, this wasn’t the sweet, loving, kind woman that she loved so much. Everything about you was different, she knew all too well how injury could change a person, but never had she expected it to look like this for you.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe, get out, leave me alone, I don’t want or need you.”

Your anger rose, fat, angry, hot tears leaking down your face as you pushed Leah away from you, removing her hands from your body, trying your hardest to get away from her.

Leah recoiled immediately, jumping up from the bed, while she knew you needed her she didn’t want to push you, she knew that injury’s not only broke your body, but your mind and she wasn’t ready to do that to you, not when she wasn’t sure how mentally out of it you were.

“Baby, I know that you are in pain, I know you are struggling, let me be here for you, don’t push me away because you feel like you have to.”

Leah’s words ricocheted off of your brain, not even managing to pierce a little bit of your brain. You were suffering, and there was something so poetic about suffering, something so lonely. It felt like you were drowning in a sea of nothingness, but you were too proud to try and tread water, you just let the pool of nothingness swallow you whole.

“Leah get the fuck out of my house, leave me alone. I don’t need or want you, I don’t love you, just leave, get out.”

Your voice was no longer quiet and sad, it was completely absorbed with pure anger and it hurt Leah’s heart. You’d been there every single step of the way for her when she’d done her ACL, you’d done the hard nights and days, you’d seen her at her very lowest and you’d stayed. She wanted to stay, but she knew that she couldn’t force you to rely on her, she couldn’t force you to realise that you needed your family most right now and that killed her, it hurt every single bone in her body, like she’d jumped off of a parking garage and shattered herself into pieces.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. I’m going to go and stay at Lucy and Keira’s for a few days, if you need me I’m here.”

You shook your head at her, pointing towards the door. It was only now that you noticed Leah had her own tears brimming up in the back of her eyes.

“We’re done Leah, get the fuck out of my house and life, I don’t want to see you.”

When the words left your mouth you instantly regretted them, it was funny what anger and annoyance could do to a person. Leah’s face dropped immediately, and the tears that had been brimming up suddenly fell, silent little tears trickling down her face as she walked towards your doorway. You were the love of her life, and yet here you were pushing her completely out. It killed her, she felt like she was being gutted from the inside out and she knew that it was because you were hurt. Hurt people, hurt people. You were hurting so much, and the one person who was your last hope you were forcing out, it hurt her soul.

“I’m going to Lucy and Keira’s, if you need anything call me, or them, or Ale, we all are here for you.”

Leah’s voice broke as the words left her mouth, a muffled sob leaving her mouth as she made it to the doorway of your bedroom.

“I love you y/n.”

You let the words become empty space in the room, empty words, empty space, empty life. That was how you felt, like everything to do with you was just empty.

You’d lost faith in the world, in your world. If you asked Alexia that was the worst thing that could ever happen to a person, losing faith in yourself. When it got to three days without any correspondence from you she broke. She wasn’t going to let you kill yourself. She’d heard from Lucy that your interaction with Leah had been not great and it hurt her heart knowing that the woman who had saved you in the first place was now the person that you were pushing out.

She barged into your house, noticing how your kitchen was the same level of cleanliness it had been when she’d left a few days ago, leading her to believe that you hadn’t cooked at all. Your house was like a ghost town, eerily silent to a concerning level. She made her way through the house, tiptoeing up the stairs and into your bedroom. The door was hanging open, an invitation to Alexia, and she was a little bit taken aback to find your bed completely empty. Then the worry set in, because if you weren’t in bed or downstairs then where were you?

Alexia navigated through your bedroom and then into your ensuite, where she sighed in relief when she found you passed out on the bathroom floor. You looked like you’d been there for a while, and the consuming fear absorbed Alexia as she took in your body. You’d lost so much weight in the time since you’d be injured and you looked so much smaller then she’d ever seen you, like a little kid. Alexia felt so consumingly guilty for ever having left you, for letting you push her out and made the decision that even if you would hate her for it, she was going to force you to sort your shit out, and that started with getting you out of your house and moving in with her.

It took a lot to get you awake, and even more for Alexia to pack you a bag and then get you downstairs and into her car. You were weak though, and still fairly immobile, something that Alexia used as an advantage, hauling you over her shoulder and down into her car.

The first few days were nothing short of hell, but Alexia refused to give into you. You were force fed three meals a day, she dragged you out of her house with the assistance of Mapi everyday to go and do your recovery and she cracked down on your meds, rehab and alcohol consumption. You felt like a child, a six year old who had absolutely zero say in what was happening in her life.

After two weeks of Alexia’s crackdown the physical therapists at Barca made the decision that you were ready for surgery and your date was set for three weeks later. You had three weeks to sort out your shit, and Alexia made that clear to you.

She forced you into therapy, two sessions a week with the Barca therapist and you hated it, hated every single minute of it. Or you pretended to hate it, for the first two sessions. But the psychiatrist, as much as you hated to admit it, knew what she was talking about and during your third session you had a massive breakthrough, admitting that you had been struggling. She prescribed you anti-anxiety meds and some antidepressants and the result was almost immediate. Alexia watched the smile that had been absent from your face for the last month, return. No longer did you fight her everyday when she woke you up, you were even organising meet ups with teammates and that was the real breakthrough.

You knew that you’d hurt people, people including yourself and that to repair that you needed to get better, to prove yourself and the people around you that you could do better.

Alexia was there for you every single step of the way, and slowly you worked as hard as you could to rebuild the bond between you and your sister.

You talked about Leah with your therapist, for the first time since it all happened. You knew that you should reach out to her, should apologise, at least let her know you were doing better. But the part of you that had hurt her and yourself was terrified that the woman had moved on, that she was over you, that she didn’t trust you anymore.

So you kept your radio silence. Alexia had practically confiscated your phone, social media was the absolute worst thing for your mental health so you’d removed yourself from it. You were building a life where you were no longer reliant on the opinions or thoughts of the people around you, what mattered most was your feelings.

So you stayed isolated, relied upon yourself and Alexia and the people who truly loved and supported you. It was great, it was everything you’d ever needed and a part of you had become grateful for you injury, grateful that something had happened to make you realise that before your injury you were miserable, clinging to the opinions of the outside world to make you feel whole.

It wasn;t until the night before your surgery that Alexia got sick of you refusing to mend the one part of your heart that you needed to. In the three weeks you’d ticked off every other box, celebrated the team's win like you should have, made amendments with your teammates and coaches, worked tirelessly at your strengthening, got out of Alexia’s house and taken Narla for a walk. You were slowly working on mending your spirit, and a part of that was confronting the part of your heart that still yearned for Leah. Whether you wanted to deny it or not, Alexia knew that everyday without her was an internal struggle for you, that until you actually dealt with the situation you were never going to fully be yourself. She’d broached the subject a series of times, and every single time she was met with a brick wall, Leah was everything and nothing to you. She was the reason you woke up but also the reason you hated getting out of bed. She was your meaning to life and also the meaning to ending your life. Everything began and ended with that woman and Alexia knew it. She’d known since you’d brought Leah home for the first time when you were both only twenty two, so young, so stupid, so in love. She’d known from that night that the two of you were meant to be. That wasn’t to say that you hadn’t both had your struggles, you were both stubborn, headstrong, could never be wrong and incredibly independent, to a fault. But she’d just known that the two of you would make it, that even through thick and thin it was meant to be.

She was still certain of that. Even though she knew there was a chance you’d hate her for it, she called Leah the morning before your surgery, even if the woman couldn’t be there she should at least know that her person was having life altering surgery. Leah had been gutted, whether she had admitted it or not Alexia could just tell by the stutter that left her mouth as Alexia explained the events of what was happening to you the following day. Leah was torn to shreds. She’d spent every single day for the last month kicking herself, sitting by the phone, waiting for any kind of text or call from you and it had killed her, every single person around her had seen just how much the blonde had been affected by your absence. She’d tried getting over you, tried to remove the painful tumour that you had become to her body, but it was impossible, from the matching tattoos you both had, to the memories that were all over her house, you were a part of her life and she could never get away from it.

So when Ale had called her she’d picked up immediately, and sat gobsmacked as Alexia had explained the delicacy that was your emotional and physical status. If Leah was sane she probably would have just nodded along, wishing you a quick recovery, but Leah wasn’t. Instead, she found the first flight to Barcelona and packed together a bag before rushing to the airport, with absolutely zero idea of what she was doing.

When she touched down in Barcelona it was mid afternoon and Mapi and Ingrid were waiting at the terminal for her. Leah was flustered, tired and stressed, something Mapi could tell as soon as she saw her. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t try and mention anything about you to her, just shepherded Leah straight out of the airport and into the car that was waiting for them.

Leah fidgeted the whole ride to Alexia’s, her fingers toying furiously with the rings around her fingers as she bit down on the inside of her cheek. Sometimes Leah thought that she didn’t think things through enough, this was exhibit A for that. Sometimes she hated it, sometimes she loved it. Even though parts of her were screaming to her that this was a bad idea, she just felt a part of her chest being tugged back towards you. That was how she’d fallen in love with you, following you around a world cup because it just felt right, you just felt right. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet, because you were just right for her, you were her forever, or you had been.

And she knew that she couldn’t force you to love her, she couldn’t even try if she wanted. But a part of her just felt so wrong about letting you go all those weeks ago, by walking out the door and not putting up a fight, like you deserved. You deserved to feel loved, and she’d left you, when you were at your very lowest point and nothing about that had sat right with her.

When the car pulled up to Alexia’s familiar house Leah felt a part of her stomach sink. What if you hated her? What if you never wanted to see her again? There were so many possibilities, so many options and variations of what could occur and it made Leah terrified, more terrified then she’d ever been in her entire life.

Mapi pushed her out of the car, Ingrid leading her towards the door of the threshold and swinging it open, forcing Leah into Alexia’s abode. It was the same as every other time she’d been in the Catalan’s house but this time felt so different, the context of the situation making it so much more gloomy and harder to face. Alexia was waiting for her, pacing back and forth in the kitchen and never in her life had Leah been more terrified of the older woman. She’d been fairly scared when she’d met her for the first time, even more scared when she’d been introduced as your girlfriend, but this topped the scale of horror. Leah felt as if she was walking into the bear's cave, a fate that she was not ready to face and wasn’t sure if she ever would be.

“She’s in her bedroom, she’s had a big day, there’s been a small change in her surgery plan and she’s stressing about it. She doesn’t know that you are here, and there’s a good chance she's not going to be happy you are here, just wait her out for me? She’s been working hard to fix everything with everybody, and you're the only person left on the list, she’s been working with a therapist, she’s trying her goddamn hardest and we’re all proud of her. She needs structure, tough love, that’s what we’ve been giving her and it's what works. There’s a chance she’s not going to want to talk to you at all, if that happens then we’ll try again some other time, but she needs you, I need you around, she’s not herself with you.”

Leah was taken aback by Alexia’s word vomit, nodding wordlessly at the older woman as she placed her luggage down on the floor. Leah felt so out of place, she’d been in Alexia’s house hundreds of times, for an array of reasons, but this whole situation made it all so different.

“I love her Ale, your sister is a hard person to love but I love her, and I genuinely believe love is the most powerful thing in the world and if it can’t get us through then I don’t know what will.”

Alexia stopped her pacing, to look at Leah.

At the beginning of your relationship she’d been disapproving, she knew that you were made for each other but that didn’t waiver the red flags that she’d seen with Leah. To her, Leah had been a playgirl, a surface person who wasn’t necessarily in it for the connection. Alexia wasn’t wrong very often, but that day she had been.

“Leah, I can’t even explain how glad I am you came. She makes it hard sometimes, sometimes I wonder why I stick around. But you and I both know just how far she’s worked her way into our chests. Head on through, she should be awake.”

Leah let Alexia wrap her arms around her, in a big warm hug. It was perfect, everything that Leah had been craving for the last month. She found herself leaning a little bit too much into Alexia’s embrace, when she realised she jumped out of Alexia’s arms like a scared cat.

“Go on kid, go get your girl.”

Leah focused on putting on foot in front of the other, as her feet scuffed against the wood floors, slowly inching towards the door that felt like it held so much behind it. When Leah finally did arrive at the barrier she raised her fist anxiously, rapping on the door three times before lowering her hand back to her side.

“It’s open Ale.”

Leah reached for the door knob, fuck it. She twisted the metal knob in her hand and pushed the door open slowly. She’d stayed the night in Ale’s spare room a series of times, but she could tell as soon as she got her first glimpse of the room that it was far more lived in when she had inhabited it in the past. Her eyes scanned the room as more was revealed, with every centimetre of door she pushed further away from herself. She was rewarded the most when she got a view of the bed, giving Leah her first glance at you.

Your whole face dropped almost immediately, with the complete shock of being face to face with a woman who you’d never expected to see again, let alone in your bedroom.

“Hey angel.”

Leah’s voice was so soft, so perfect, so gentle and it made you feel so wrong, like Leah was giving you something that you didn’t deserve. She had become a mere figment of your imagination, and even though it felt so wrong you couldn’t let her slip away this time, not without getting to hug your ex-girlfriend one last time. So you jumped off of the bed, as well as you could with the moon boot still clinging to your lower leg, catapulting yourself directly into Leah’s arms, a flurry of ‘sorrys’ falling from your lips as you pulled Leah directly into you.

The English woman was shocked, Ale’s talk having led her to believe that you were angry at her or with her, but you seemed far from it and it made Leah’s guts twist.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for hon.”

Leah’s words again came out so indescribably soft, like a piece of satin against your skin. You pushed yourself out of Alexia’s arms, sitting yourself back down on your bed and looking up at her.

“Yes I do, and I’d like to apologise properly to you. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, all you’ve ever been to me is supportive and I pushed you away, because I was scared. Everyday for the past month I’ve regretted it, and I will spend the rest of my life regretting it. I understand if you’ve moved on, but if you’ll take me back then I will spend every single day of our lives together proving to you that I am worthy of your love.”

Leah sat herself down beside you on the bed, her hands coming to rest on top of your own.

“I’d like to apologise as well, I ran away, when it got hard when I should have stayed. I’m sorry I left, especially when you needed me most. How about we make the decision to just work from it. I love you y/n, more than anything else in the entire world and I know that we can make it through this. From now on, I am going to be here everyday, thick and thin, the good and the bad, the hard and the easy. I’ll be there every step of the way through your recovery, if you’ll have me.”

You both looked at each other, really looked at each other, for what felt like the first time in years. Just iris to iris, blue to green.

“I love you Lee.”

Leah just smiled at you, opening her arms up and relaxing as you climbed into her arms, your body intertwining with hers so familiarly.

“I’m so scared Lee, what if I never play like I used to, what if I never play at all?”

It was an admission that you’d been terrified of vocalising, but with Leah you couldn’t hide, you’d never been able to.

“Then we’ll figure it out together, side by side. I know one thing and that is that you are going to work your fucking ass off and if that isn’t enough then maybe it isn’t supposed to be, maybe there is another calling for you somewhere. You are going to be fine, this surgery is what you need and I’ll be there when they put you to sleep and when you wake up, I am here every step of the way for you.”

She was right, so incredibly right and that made you feel that little bit safer.

“Your my girl, my y/n, my lover girl, you’ve got this.”

For the first time in weeks you felt like maybe she was right, maybe you were going to be fine, maybe you did have this and even if you didn’t you knew Leah would be there to pick up the pieces, to glue you back together again when it all became too much.

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 19 days

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Very specific request for recommendations:

One of the things I do with my students is owl pellet dissection to identify the small rodents and occasional birds contained within. I have two big sacks of the things, from two different sites. As one of their assessments, they analyse a set number of pellets each, then share their data to get a bigger dataset, then discuss the biodiversity difference between the two sites. All good and fun. One of them once took home a bird skull and made it into a necklace.

Here is the sticky part: the database where they share their data.

Now, I am currently using an Excel spreadsheet that I host on my work OneDrive, which I share to Moodle and allow editing access. This means I format the spreadsheet, then they can access and add their data. Central place, they can easily copy and paste the data into their own Excel file to manipulate as they want, and I can see who has uploaded and who hasn't; for each pellet, one column asks for their name, and then the others list the potential organisms and they simply number how many of each they found. Boom. Easy.

BUT, it carries the inherent risk of one of my intelligent, capable and highly skilled students accidentally deleting/overwriting other people's entries in a moment of digital clumsiness and stupidity. This year, one of them forgot it was the shared document, and so did all the data analysis in it where everyone could see/plagiarise. This is Not Ideal.

So, I'm looking for some sort of digital tool that I can use, very preferably link to Moodle for easy access, will allow the students to download the whole collaborated dataset, and won't let them delete anyone else's entries. It also needs to be free. It doesn't need to do anything fancy - they can download into Excel if they want to manipulate it. I just want an easy central repository for this data.

Any recommendations from anyone?

#the professional world of careers and tasks #academia

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suzukiblu · 10 months

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excerpt from an in-progress "the Core Four gets a clonebaby and it's not even Tim's fault" fic

Kon has a bruise on his face and is bleeding from the mouth and has a four year-old sitting on his hip all wrapped up in his studded leather jacket. Tim finds seeing him bleeding more concerning than the sight of the kid, because while Kon isn't necessarily the first choice to comfort the traumatized civilians, he's done it plenty of times and he'll no doubt do it plenty more.

Also, like, the whole street is on fire. What, is he gonna put the kid down?

The kid is barefoot and wearing a white bodysuit, it looks like. They have pale skin and fluffy black chin-length hair and huge hazel eyes–a hazel that's practically yellow in the light of the burning street, it's so bright–and they're small and slender, but also surprisingly muscular for their age.

And surprisingly alert, Tim can't help but notice. Their eyes are subtly darting around, hypervigilant to a fault, and they're visibly just clocking things. They've already threat-assessed him, Cassie, and Bart, and they're obviously watching out for anyone else and simultaneously keeping an eye on the guttering flames and broken ground and surrounding street in general.

The bad guys left out here are technically all down and thoroughly zip-tied into submission, but the kid assesses them all too, one by one.

Tim gets a weird itch in the back of his brain, and Kon brings the kid over to the rest of them.

Their eyes aren't hazel, Tim realizes. They actually are yellow.

A very specific, familiar yellow.

"What's with the kid?" Bart asks, narrowing his very specific, familiar eyes curiously. "Like, why are you bringing the kid, I mean, not 'why does the kid exist?' That's a different question, obviously, like really why do any of us–"

"They're ours," Kon says.

Bart stops talking.

"Um?" he says.

"What do you mean they're 'ours'?" Cassie says.

"Show 'em that thing you showed me, kiddo?" Kon asks the kid, patting their back. They nod solemnly. Then they vibrate into a blur that phases right through Kon's arms, leather jacket and all. Kon makes no effort to catch them, apparently because he knows it's unnecessary, because a second later the kid is floating up into the air over all their heads.

Tim blinks, very slowly. Tilts his head.

Kon wiggles his fingers at the kid, who noises very quietly and reaches down to grab at his hand. Kon grins up at them and holds his arms open, and the kid settles back into them . . . not warily, exactly? But very definitely uncertainly. Like it's something unfamiliar.

Not like Kon is unfamiliar. Like being held is unfamiliar.

"Okay, huh," Bart says. "Well that sure was the Speed Force."

"And that sure is a Greek demigod," Cassie says.

"Sure is," Kon says agreeably. "And I'll give you two guesses as to where the attached unenhanced human DNA came from, Boy Wonder."

"Kon, what the hell?" Tim says in bemusement. "What even . . . what, exactly?"

"Remember that weird green light earlier?" Kon asks conversationally as he pets the kid's back. "The one that just kinda flashed all up in your respective businesses while I was inside punching asshole scientists after the comms got fried?"

"Yes," Tim replies warily. "I assumed it was supposed to be some kind of distraction."

"It was a DNA scanner," Kon says.

"Ah," Tim says, and wonders how the hell he's going to explain this to Bruce.

"Apparently, these shits decided the best way to handle invading superheroes was to just copy their DNA and then make speed-gro clones who could counteract their abilities," Kon says, jerking his head back towards the TTK-ruined remains of the lab. "With, obviously, a healthy side of brainwashing and indoctrination programming uploaded directly into their developing brains. But literally everyone and their mother underestimates the range of TTK, so I kinda just broke the lab and now, welllll . . ."

"So the kid is a Greek demigod with a Speed Force connection and a Bat-brain?" Cassie asks.

"Apparently," Kon says, nuzzling the kid's ridiculously floofy black hair. "Sorry, kiddo, I'd have given you TTK if I'd gotten the option, but we made the fatal error that is splitting the party. Then again, now you won't wanna puke if you ever run into kryptonite, so could be worse? And also you not getting TTK meant I was on deck to save you from getting grown into a teenage superweapon, so that was probably worth it, right? Like, not that we wouldn't have let you join the team in that case, but clone to clone, I hear actual childhoods are kinda cool and all."

Well, Tim thinks it's safe to make some assumptions about why Kon said "they're ours" and not "they're yours".

"Huh," Cassie says, looking bemused.

". . . honestly I just can't believe this isn't Rob's fault," Bart says, darting over to peer more closely at the kid, who frowns at him.

"I'm not that bad," Tim protests reflexively. The others all give him pitying looks. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not!"

"Yes you are," Cassie says dryly, then steps in closer towards Kon and the kid too and smiles at them. "Hey there, little guy. What's your name?"

The kid stares blankly at her, then curls up tighter in Kon's jacket–and, probably not incidentally, his arms–and presses in closer against him.

"No," they say. Cassie blinks.

"'No'?" she repeats in confusion.

"Babe, they're five minutes out of the cloning tube," Kon says wryly. "They don't have a name."

". . . we should fix that," Cassie says. "Like. Immediately, let's fix that."

"Yeah, I'm on board with that," Kon agrees. "Any suggestions?"

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Tim asks the kid, because at this age it's hard to tell. He's assuming boy, since two male gene donors to one female, but who knows, really.

"I'm a clone," the kid says, looking at him like they think he's stupid.

"Gender-neutral name it is," Kon says, clearly unconcerned by that very concerning response.

"Max?" Bart offers immediately and unsurprisingly, visibly perking up. Which, well–not the worst name for a speedster anyway, Tim supposes.

"Blake," Cassie suggests. "Avery, Channing, Charlie, Aubrey, Kirby, Morgan, Sage, Shiloh–"

"You're hanging out with Cissie a lot again, huh," Bart observes.

"Like you're not?" Cassie huffs, tweaking his nose before continuing with: "Ash, Casey, Jo, Sam, Maddox . . ."

"Alex?" Tim tries, mostly because Cassie's offering a lot of unusual-sounding options and that might not be ideal.

Bart and Cassie eye him. Kon raises an eyebrow in a very Luthor-esque fashion.

Tim experiences the five stages of grief and quickly moves on.

"Uh, or Jace," he says. "Or . . . Harley?"

Wait, those are terrible too.

"No," the kid says, frowning at all of them.

"None of those sound good?" Kon asks them. The kid's frown deepens and they press closer against him, still eyeing the rest of them just a little bit sullenly.

"I don't want one of their names," they say with obvious distaste, and also much clearer annunciation than a typical four year-old would have. "I want one from you."

"Oh," Kon says, blinking a couple times. "Yeah, okay, kiddo. Um . . . you sure?"

"Yes," the kid says.

"Okay," Kon says, and tightens his grip on them a little. And then, surprisingly quickly–"Kenley Elliot. And we can hash out your last name later, that's gonna have to be a later thing. How's that sound? You want it?"

"Yes," the kid repeats, and then throws their arms around Kon's neck and squeezes. It looks a bit closer to a chokehold than a hug, but Kon a) is a half-Kryptonian clone, and b) clearly doesn't care.

"Cool," he says, and swallows a little roughly. "Okay, well, that's squared away. Let's get the fuck out of here before some asshole with a badge tries to take custody of Kenley."

Tim did not miss the "Kent" and "El" concealed in either of those names, or how quickly Kon had them to hand. Not as quick as Bart had "Max", obviously, but . . .

Very quickly, all the same.

Alright, then.

#superboy #dc robin #wonder girl #dc impulse #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: yj accidental baby acquisition

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