#baby echolings

[splatatattat]

https://x.com/oceanx/status/1709311362885644538?s=46&t=HJT0AiBW4bv8qxTovZYFBA

Today I learned that whales play with kelp.

[raisedbythetv89]

Season 1 of Veronica Mars was the best because they made choices like switching Logan’s locker from a top locker that we see in the Pilot to a bottom locker to give us maximum peak baby girl moments of him looking up at people like this while on his knees

Or this ridiculously flirty moment between LoVe

None of these moments would hit the same if he was standing at his full height. It’s stuff like this which is why I don’t get all bent out of shape when things in tv shows don’t make perfect logical sense all the time. They didn’t waste unnecessary time trying to explain why he had a different locker they just knew they needed a change because they were changing the trajectory of his character and what better way to help turn a psychotic jackass into a beloved love interest than to give him a more humble demeanor by having him on his knees looking up at the Principal and Weevil while Veronica LITERALLY comes down to his level to be like hey look it!! Equals!!

[chemistryread]

sucks to love a character more than the show itself does (logan echolls)

[epicmarshmallow]

What I love about Veronica Mars is every time I rewatch it I still hate Logan in those first few episodes because they wrote him so well being the obligatory psychotic jackass that you just have to hate him.

However then I watch Return of Kane again and I'm reminded of how much I hurt for him. How people are often made into the people they are because of who their parents are and I start to soften on him once again.

I will forever be a LoVe shipper no matter what but god does he play a great asshole. His character development is amazing and at the end of the day he's just my little baby boy who I need to protect.

[alexcabotgf]

not to be true crime posting on main but i think i'm falling down the wm3 rabbit hole again

[mrs-jamesbbarnes]

I can’t believe season 4 episode 8 of Veronica Mars is only 43 minutes and 12 seconds long that’s crazy.

[lovethcrn]

@venustrape. veronica.

yesterday was a total blur, but, for once, it wasn't due to too many chugs on a beer keg ― it was emotional hungover. from hoping all day for another hit on his mom's credit card, from slouching on that lobby couch waiting for a miracle for hours on end, but, most of all, from believing she was alive by the look of her silhouette, only to have that taken away by the reveal of her slutty, gold-digger sister in her clothes. sadly, this kind of hungover didn't come with amnesia as a side effect, although it was probably about time he started reckoning with the fact his mother had jumped off that bridge.

there was no one he'd rather have as a witness to his never-ending roundabout of familial tragedy than veronica, though. ever since he'd knocked on her door that night after the news broke, she'd been nothing but devoted to trying to give him some closure ― hell, she made a fake wedding scrapbook and everything. and, to be honest, he didn't feel like he deserved it, but hey, maybe she was just that cool of a person, and he'd just casually forgotten it somewhere along the bloody way.

and she was funny, too. a half-grin tugged on his lips at her sarcastic remark, hands hugging his cup of fresh coffee at her standing offer. ❝ thanks, veronica. for everything. i promise i'll drop by your dad's with a big fat check tomorrow for all the great detective work, but until i can think hard enough to figure out where i usually stash my checkbook, some sincere gratitude will have to do. ❞ a sip of warm coffee goes down his throat, comfortingly. her company is quite nice, too. that's enough to keep him calm, until flash memories start coming back and shame washes over him, ❝ a-and i'm sorry, about, y'know, the lobby. i don't make it a habit to weep like a baby in girls’ arms, but the whole thing just got to me, i guess. for what it's worth, you make a very good human tissue. ❞ another smile, a full-length one this time. the next comment came in the form of a fearful whisper, ❝ how much did you hear, from my conversation with trina? ❞

[emily-in-crisis]

I'm all "I don't care for het couples" until it's pacey x joey or logan x veronica

[vivanightcity]

there's this actor i strongly associate with an old friends oc - he was the fc - and everytime i see him i get such happy 'ahhh its my step blorbo!' only to remember, oh right, it's the step blorbo lost during the divorce because of baby bitch fights.

[poppy-in-the-woods]

My Ride or Die - Part 2

Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. After the conjugal visit for his birthday, you visit him, bringing food and other presents to help him keep warm on cold nights.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 2601

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: fluff, bit of angst, convict!Noah, masturbation, mentions of suggestive pictures.

Author’s note: betaed by the amazing @rottingfern. Sorry for the long wait, but you know, life gets in the way of writing sometimes, and I wanted to polish this one as much as I could. Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.

It had been exactly a week since you last saw Noah. You definitely needed a bit more recovery before thinking about having wild sex again, the ache between your legs still dully moaning, but you two were happy to see each other nonetheless.

The room was busy with spouses and kids that came to visit other inmates. Noah sat alone as he waited for you, but he quickly rose up when he saw you approaching. You greeted him with a quick hug and a peck on the lips and sat in front of him, putting the bag you were carrying on the bench beside you.

“How are you, my love?” you asked.

“Not bad. Better than most days now that you are here,” he said.

“I brought you some presents,” you said, taking the items out of the bag. “Here’s your sandwich,” you began, pushing it to him. He unwrapped it with an excited smile and began scarfing it down. “Slow down, honey, or it’s gonna hurt your stomach,” you told him.

“Sorry,” he said, chewing slower.

“I also brought you some extra underwear and socks,” you continued, putting the paper bag on the table.

“Nice!”

“The shampoo and deodorant you like…” you listed, taking them out of the bag too and placing them beside the underwear, “and a belated birthday present!” you announced, handing him the wrapped package.

“They let you bring that without opening it first?” he asked, skeptical.

“I told them it was a present, so they did me a favor” you told him, shrugging it off like it was nothing. You knew the schedule of the guard who had a soft spot for you and you fully took advantage of that, though you’d never tell that to Noah. “They ran it through the X-ray machine, with the rest of the stuff,” you assured him.

“No metal file or spoon hidden, then,” he joked.

“No, sorry,” you replied, chuckling as he finished unwrapping the book: it was a hardback copy of High Magick (A Guide to The Spiritual Practices That Saved My Life on Death Row), by Damien Echols. “Don’t take off the plastic just yet,” you whispered. He nodded. “I am sure you will find it a very interesting reading,” you added, in a normal tone.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hands and quickly kissing your knuckles.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, letting go of your hands before the guard could decide that it was too much physical contact and end the visit early.

“How’s it going with that newbie? Did he bother you again?” you asked, trying to make some small talk.

“Nah. It’s all good now, he learned his place,” he replied, finishing the sandwich. He let you clean his mouth with the paper napkin.

“Good.”

“I received your letter yesterday, by the way” he told you.

“They took their sweet time reading it, didn’t they?” you fumed.

“I’m sure the warden loves your prose, and the poems. I certainly do,” he said. “I especially loved the lines that said ‘My heart is a bird/ that every night takes flight/ to you and guards your sleep’, and ‘I dream of your hands around my waist, / your breath on my neck, / your heat inside mine, / and our hearts beating in sync’”.

“I wasn’t too inspired with the rhymes in that last one,” you said, grimacing.

As much as you didn’t feel any embarrassment for the words you wrote to Noah, you didn’t want them repeated to you. Creative writing was an outlet your therapist recommended, as were the dabbles in poetry, but you didn’t fancy yourself a poet. Noah was the poet and the musician, not you.

“By the way, do you need another notebook?” you asked.

You had given him a pretty notebook when he entered prison so he could annotate whatever he wanted, and you knew he had been using it as a sort of journal and to write his lyrics and compose his music. A month before the anniversary of his first year locked up, he had requested a new one. You had bought one with more pages that time. He was on notebook number three now.

“No, I still haven’t filled the last one. I will tell you when I need a new one, but thanks for asking,” he said, smiling. “How are you, baby? How are things at work?”

“I’m fine. Before I forget, I have a new manager now, a lady in her fifties - the old one was fired because Shelly reported him to HR for attempted grooming,” you explained. Shelly was your only underage coworker, a sixteen-year-old girl who was still in high-school. “Anyway, the new one is very nice, and upon learning about you, she told me she has a son in prison.”

“In here?” he asked.

“No, he’s in another facility. He committed tax evasion and had a money laundering scheme going on. He got mixed with the wrong crowd, apparently,” you informed him. “They don’t see each other that much, but she writes him letters every week. She told the whole team that my visitation days are sacred and that if anyone needs a change of schedule, to try anyone else, because I am not available,” you finished smiling.

“I already like her,” he said, containing a laugh.

“She also said you were very handsome ‘despite all that ink’”, you told him, marking the quotations in the air. “She’s kind of old-fashioned regarding tattoos.”

“Tell her I said thank you for the compliment,” he replied. “And that I don’t take offense to her not liking my tattoos.”

“Will do!”

“I have something for you,” he said, taking a square envelope from under his ass. “I recorded it with the boys. I want you to be the first to listen to it,” he said, as you took the CD out of the envelope. You smiled, looking at the title and all the signatures.

“I feel honored, honestly,” you said, immediately putting it in your purse. “I’ll listen to it tonight, though it might take me a while to write an in-depth review.”

“Don’t worry about that, we can wait. The boys send their regards, by the way,” he said.

“Tell them I said hi back. I’m so happy you made friends here! And Nick… well, I am not happy that he is in prison too, but… at least you already had a friend the day you arrived, you know?” you said.

“I was relieved to see a familiar face the first day, I’m not gonna lie,” Noah admitted.

“By the way, I spoke with the lawyer…” you began.

“No,” he snapped, cutting you off.

“But I would just spend two years, and your sentence would be reduced -” you began.

He grabbed your wrists.

“Look at me: we already talked about this, and I won’t let you spend a single day behind bars. I fired the gun, I take the blame,” he said, holding your gaze intently.

“But…” you tried to argue. While you recognized and were grateful for his sacrifice, you didn’t want him to spend so much time behind bars. You thought you were strong enough to endure two years if that meant he got to be free earlier. Why wouldn’t he let you do that for him? You loved him just as he loved you; why shouldn’t you sacrifice in return?

“No buts,” he said, putting a finger over your lips. “I heard what the guards do to the female inmates in prison and I won’t let you go through that to shave five years off my sentence,” he said, finally releasing your hands. “End of discussion.”

 “Okay. I love you so much, Noah!” you said after a pause, on the verge of tears.

 “I love you too, baby. Now, don’t cry! You know I hate to see that here,” he said, and you knew he was right: the crying was best reserved for when no one could see, because any sign of weakness on your part could reflect badly on him. You took a deep breath and smiled at him. “That’s better. Do you have an appointment with your therapist this week?”

“Yeah, this afternoon,” you nodded. You had taken notes to talk to your therapist about his response to your proposal, whatever his response would be, though you didn’t expect him to agree, honestly.

“Good. Tell her I enjoyed the books she recommended.”

“That one is also a recommendation from her,” you said, lightly tapping the Damien Echols book. “The extra material is all my idea, though,” you whispered. He arched an eyebrow, questioningly. “You’ll see.”

Not long after, you had to end the visit. With another quick hug and light peck on the lips, you said goodbye to him. On the way back home, you put the CD in the player of your car and listened to it. The lyrics were so beautiful and his voice sounded so clear, like he was beside you, that you had to pull over to the side of the road for a couple of minutes while you let the tears finally flow.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a voice asked. You lifted your gaze to find a police officer standing by the side of your car. You rolled down the window and stopped the music. “Are you injured?”

“No, sir, I am fine. I just got emotional and… I needed a moment.”

“I see. What was that band, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh! That was Bad Omens; it’s my husband’s band. They’re on Spotify, I think.”

“They sound good, I’ll give them a listen. If you are better now, I suggest you go on your way,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

Every lawyer you ever spoke to always told you the same thing: if you’re ever stopped by a police officer, be polite and don’t let them know you have a spouse in prison, because they will look at you differently and there’s a chance they won’t be nice to you upon learning that fact.

You continued your way and arrived home in time to prepare a meal for yourself, feed the cat and go to your therapist appointment.

Meanwhile, Noah was in his cell, unwrapping the book from its plastic. He noticed an envelope taped to the back cover. He opened it to find several pictures. Eight of them were of you, recreating some pin-up posters; hot, but nothing that could be considered pornographic. The ninth, tenth and eleventh were more risqué, something that could be classified as artistic nudes, but the twelfth…

He took the picture number 12 in his hands, looking at it closely. It was a close up of your nude chest, focusing on the tattoo over your sternum. Your nipples were not in frame, but he knew your breasts far too well, so he was able to complete that image mentally.

He carefully picked up the other photographs and put them back in the envelope. He then taped this one to the metal frame of the bunk bed above him and slid a hand in his pants. His mind was already racing, conjuring the image of you naked beside him, kissing him and touching him with light fingers.

“This one’s for you, baby” he muttered, stroking his cock.

Not shortly after he was finished, Nick leaned into the cell.

“Dude, what are you doing? We’re waiting for you in the music room!” he said.

“What?”

“Did you forget we scheduled a rehearsal for today?” Nick asked, entering the cell.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Were you reading?” Nick asked, seeing the book next to Noah. “Is it any good?” he wanted to know, picking it up.

“Give it back!”

But it was too late: Nick had already seen the envelope and was inspecting its content.

“Oh, I see! You weren’t reading, you were jerking off in her honor” he laughed. “To be fair, I also do it in her honor sometimes,” he joked.

“Not funny, bro! Not funny.” Noah replied, snatching the book from him. “It’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. Is something wrong between you two?” Nick asked, suddenly serious.

“No. She tried to bring up the appeal, thinks she should take part of the blame,” he said. “I told her she can forget about it, and I hope this time she listens. I understand where she comes from, but I love her far too much to let her do it.”

“And she loves you far too much not to try to convince you,” Nick pointed out.

“I guess so…”

“She does. I mean, she risked flirting with the guy at the entrance to bring you this, didn’t she?” Nick said, pointing at the book.

“What do you mean?”

“Rumor says that if you don’t want something to be too closely inspected, you compliment the guard at the entrance. Works like a charm if you’re a pretty woman, or at least that’s what my cousin said,” Nick told him. “Those pictures? They would probably be considered porn and confiscated. She’s a criminal mastermind, dude.”

“Yeah, sure,” Noah said, amused, but his laughter quickly died on his lips, as the implications of what Nick just told him sank in: you had taken too many risks for him and his pleasure, more than he was comfortable with. He sighed; his beautiful, smart and reckless wife! What was he going to do with you? “You will get out before me. Would you keep an eye on her for me?”

“Sure, dude. She’s my friend too, you know?”

Noah knew you also corresponded with Nick and talked to him on the phone. Past benders aside, you two were close enough for Nick to call you a friend. Knowing his friend, Nick was likely the one to suggest the fiery red lingerie to her as a birthday surprise, and if his suspicion was correct, Noah was very grateful to him.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me yet. We’re still both in this shithole, so maybe we could go to the music room now and rehearse?”

“Sure.”

That Saturday, while you were watching a movie, your phone rang. It was a collect call from jail, which you quickly accepted.

“Hey, baby!” Noah’s voice greeted you through the line.

“Hi! How are you? Is everything okay?” you asked, straightening yourself up on the couch. He didn’t seem distraught, but he was in jail after all, you could never be sure.

“Everything is as okay as it can be. I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “Oh, I have begun with your present. You were right, it’s a very interesting reading.”

“Did you enjoy the extras?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah! Thank you, baby.”

“By the way, I almost finished analyzing the record,” you told him. “I have the last two songs left and the conclusions, and I will have a full review, song by song.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he said.

“I know, but I like doing it, and I like to think that my reviews are useful for you guys, you know? To have a listener’s perspective,” you replied.

“Of course they are useful!” he assured you. “I just say it’s not an obligation,” he clarified.

“I know, and it doesn’t feel like it,” you swore.

“Okay. I need to go now, but I love you. Sweet dreams, baby,” he said.

“Sweet dreams, my love! I love you too,” you replied, and he hung up.

The next conjugal visit couldn’t come fast enough.

[chrislaplante]

BRONTE'S COMFORT LIST

comfort food(s): pizza, tortas “ahoga perros”, corn “at-home-street-style”, nachos, chicken nuggets, beef taquitos, lentils, etc.

comfort drink(s): honestly? water. lol horchata and coca cola.

comfort movie(s): the exorcist, the terminator, the exorcism of emily rose, split, drive, foxfire, brainscan, constantine, candyman, the rocky films, the ip man films, the star wars (eps 1-6 & rogue one) films, school of rock, donnie darko, 8 mile, the crow, gus van sant’s last days, jeepers creepers, awake, secret window, pet sematary (1&2), rosemary’s baby, my soul to take, child’s play, psycho, the texas chainsaw massacre (remake), jaws, scream, the craft, the lost boys, edward scissorhands, beetlejuice, the matrix, american werewolf in london, the cabinet of dr caligari, zodiac, red dragon, rambo/first blood, insidious (1,2&5), the Halloween franchise, the Friday the 13th franchise, the a nightmare on elm street franchise (with remake), the evil dead (& remake), gremlins, ghostbusters (1&2), silent night deadly night, the amityville horror, my friend dahmer, murder by numbers, sinister, twister, twisted nerve, natural born killers, behind the mask, the sixth sense, Alice in wonderland, peter pan, dumbo, bambi, the land before time, the sword in the stone, the aristocats, the beauty and the beast, etc.

comfort show(s): bob’s burgers, dexter, sons of anarchy, 21 jump street, renegade, stephen king’s rose red, salem’s lot, american horror story (first two seasons), tales from the crypt, daria, catfish, the twilight zone, criminal minds, the x files, the green hornet, etc.

comfort clothing: ripped jeans, baggy (oversized) tees, baggy (oversized) hoodies, cargo pants and shorts, plaid button-ups, sweatpants (joggers), overall pants, long socks, sneakers, combat boots, trench coats, “grandpa” or “80s dad” sweaters, bunny slippers, sandals with socks, the occasional dress or romper, etc.

comfort song(s): what’s up (4 non blondes), stan (eminem), vampires will never hurt you (mcr), darkside (bring me the horizon), disgusting semla (morbid), one (metallica), the hunger (distillers), burn (the cure), oye mi amor (mana), afuera (caifanes), jeremy (pearl jam), numb (linkin park), nightcall (kavinsky), etc.

comfort book(s): red dragon, the wasp factory, frankenstein, damien echols’ autobiography, darkly dreaming dexter, joyland (sk), into the wild, the jedi quest book series, the i am not a serial killer book series, the crow (comic), the exorcist, salem’s lot, drive, constantine (film novelization), hellblazer (comics), per yngve ohlin (clem petit-huguenin), lots of old dh darth vader comic runs, etc.

comfort game(s): battleship, guess who, perfection, operation, ouija, “baseball” (card game), checkers, chinese checkers, puzzles, dark lore, the golden ticket, duck hunt, hog.warts legacy, etc.

stolen from: @walkeddeath. framing: @k4rlsson, @freakarus, @strigoix / @miercolaes, @morb1dg1rl, @wastrels, @liraspins, @likeorpheus, @stringmastery, @hangtenn, @nuks, @andtheylive, @absentpublic, @00sgoth, @punkzombie, @popularmxnster, @mrdelroy, @allevils, @getslashed, @bloodykneestm, @helvehte, @helltoraise, @facepeeled, @cheekypriest, @v011d, @roznrot, @poisonedfire, @butscrewmefirst, @notimminent, @sweets1n, @daensuse, @horrorface, + you.

[raisedbythetv89]

We all know they put Jason in some absolutely hideous fits but THIS ONE

HORRIFIC. THE COLORS HURT MY EYES 😭

AND HIS HAIR 😭😭😭😭😭 GIVE MY BABY GIRL HIS FLUFFY HAIR BACK IMMEDIATELY 🫵🏻

[katherinebotten]

Melbourne, port willunga, Sellicks Hill, the internet.

KB Flower essence April 2024 #1.

Notes of Jack Donoghue, Lana, Jessa Reed, Damien Echols, Robert Ryan, San Francisco, Berkley, hawai’i, vintage Mercedes, Byron bay in 1970. Flying around the world for tax ride offs for my flower essence company making my own punk essences like Rx poems. Deepak chopra, Ye. Xtian Science. Global nomad entrepreneur India all natural fibres angora alpaca possum fur wool clothes look like a hermit bunny. Rings w pearls from the bottom of the ocean 1920. Camping w my boyfriend then camping w our baby. Discernment. Consciousness. High. Prana. David R medical grade.

Rest a glass of water on top of ur phone while this image grid is up for a minute and let ur hands Qi-gong-reiki over top w the intention of activating it like a paper essence. Then drink.

[haggishlyhagging]

The Counter-Inaugural was a traumatic experience for virtually all the women involved in organizing the feminist action. Many of the problems stemmed from the difficulties inherent in planning an action from four different cities. . . . The New York women feared that the D.C. women might sell out women's liberation in their negotiations with the Mobe organizers. And the D.C. women worried that the New York women might be planning an action which would alienate large segments of the Movement.

The New York women felt their fears were justified when they met with a chilly reception from the New York Mobe office, and when they discovered that Mobe had failed to mention women's liberation in the Guardian ad for the Counter-Inaugural. They became even more suspicious when they learned that [Marilyn] Webb had decided that men should be included in their planned action. . . .

By the time the New York women arrived on Saturday afternoon the situation had degenerated even further. The New York contingent learned that Webb had arranged with Mobe that she would speak for women's liberation during the serious part of the rally, but had, in Firestone's words, scheduled the New York women "after the rally and even after the whole march . . . as a kind of dessert performance, a tap dance at the end of the Show." The New York women demanded that the workshop planned for that evening be cancelled and an emergency meeting held so that they could alter the plans for Sunday's action. As a compromise, it was agreed that both Webb and Firestone would deliver speeches during the rally. However, many women felt that Webb's speech was too conciliatory and that Firestone's was too antagonistic toward Movement men. Webb's speech was decidedly politico and she carefully avoided criticizing Movement men:

“We, as supposedly the most privileged in this society, are mutilated as human beings so that we will learn to function within a Capitalist system. So that we will reinforce that system. We will not! Our minds have been permanently drugged—the media controls our thoughts. . . . This will stop!”

Firestone's speech, by contrast, excoriated radical men and derogated the politico explanation of women's oppression:

“And it isn't just nasty capitalism doing it all either. Though certainly that must be eliminated if we are to get it pulled out at the root. But let's start talking about where you live, baby, and wonder whether capitalism and all those systems of exploitation might not just begin there . . . at home. Because you've got it ass backwards. And you won't have your revolution 'till you start seeing straight. . . . We women often have to wonder if you mean what you say about revolution or whether you just want more power for yourselves. This time we aren't going to wait for your revolutionary clarity . . . we've learned better.” . . .

Almost as soon as Webb began speaking some men began chanting, “Take it off!” and “Take her off the stage and fuck her!” Webb recalls, “it was like a riot was breaking out.” The crowd became even more feral when Firestone spoke. . . .

For women like Firestone, the D.C. experience deepened their resolve to build an independent women's movement outside the left. Immediately following the action, Firestone wrote a letter to the Guardian in which she declared:

“We say to the left: in this past decade you have failed to live up to your rhetoric of revolution. You have not reached the people. And we won't hitch ourselves to your poor donkey. There are millions of women out there desperate enough to rise. Women's liberation is dynamite. And we have more important things to do than to try to get you to come around. You will come around when you have to, because you need us more than we need you. . . . The message being: Fuck off, left. You can examine your navel by yourself from now on. We're starting our own movement.”

-Alice Echols, Daring to Be Bad: Radical Feminism in America: 1967-75

[scabopolis]

fic recs: l/v s1 canon fix-its or divergence

In anticipation of the upcoming 2023 Logan x Veronica "New Year, New Fic" fest, I bring you a small selection of fics inspired by Logan and Veronica making their way downtown and going to a market and/or a mall and/or a drugstore.

Day 1 of the challenge is February 1, 2023 so be sure to check out the #2023 LV New Year here on tumblr or the AO3 collection for more fic and art.

Starting with the two fics that inspired this prompt, and then three others. Have to keep this list short because there are SO MANY fics that could be recommended for this one. We'd be here ALL DAY.

Fic: Sometimes by @mysilverylining Rating: M for (and I'm pulling this from M's tags here) "Dry Humping. So. Much. Dry. Humping.) Tropes and Themes: Pic your delightful poison! Fakeout makeout, there's only one bed, team detecting, friend to enemies to friends to lovers, fake dating, etc. etc. etc. Oh yeah, also it's a s1 canon divergence which is why it's here! Read if: You want to get into a fic vortex that you likely will not return from for 12-14 hours.

Fic: Time, Make it Go Faster or Just Rewind by @kmd0107 Rating: M Tropes and Themes: Tentative truce becomes a real truce, s1 canon fix-it goes AU, Veronica is tenacious and Logan is charmed, two broken humans loving each other the best they can Read if: There were stones unturned in s1 that you just needed a little more time with. kmd does a great job of taking their time, following the way emotional ripples resonate, and then going to the next logical place. Also, Aaron Echolls, get wrecked.

Fic: Our Best Back Pocket Secret by wowsugarpuss Rating: M Tropes and Themes: Post-s1 AU, road trip fic baby!, dealing with feelings but in a sexy way, a very teenaged team Read if: You want to go back to that hazy "if you have a problem with Veronica, you're dead to me" time and just sort of live there. High school students smut, so skip if that is not your thing.

Fic: Into the Blue by anjou Rating: M Tropes and Themes: Mostly a Logan character-centric but it all comes back to Veronica, post-s1 and Logan is NOT feeling fine, going to therapy and figuring it out, surfing as a metaphor Read if: This is another fic in my annals of perfect fics. Every move and shift in this fic feels earned and important. I mean: "She was smiling at him, but she kind of looked like she wanted to punch him at the same time."

Fic: Nightflower <part 2> by addictedtojoy Rating: PG Tropes and Themes: Testing the limits of friendship, in that ep 14/ep 15 tentative friendship time, Veronica loses her mom (metaphorically) but gains a friend, trauma bonding in like a good way Read if: Man, s1ep15 is in my top episodes and this author does an incredible job of finishing the lines of where that kind of emotional intimacy could go. Also gives me major "flashbacks from 1x04" vibes in terms of tone. A long ago recommendation by @lilamadison11 so thank goodness for her!

[amosdeleon]

INTRODUCING...Amos De Leon.

STATS:

Nicknames: Aims, Ames, Moss, De Leon.

Character Age:  38

Neighborhood: Wrightsville Beach

Occupation: Pro Tennis Player

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: November 13th, 1985

Faceclaim: Boyd Holbrook

Hometown: Wilmington, NC.

Years of Residence: Entire Life

Pinterest Board / WANTED CONNECTIONS (coming soon)

Character Inspiration: Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars), Spike (BTVS), Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls), James Cook (Skins), Tim Riggins (Friday Night Lights)

tldr;

-- AMOS DE LEON is 38 years old and is a wilmington native. he became a pro tennis player at 16 years old and since then put his career over anything else in his life. he was always a free spirit, often found himself either training or enjoying life to the fullest. he got married at 29 years old but divorced his husband two years later bc he always preferred his career over creating a family and whatnot. which leads us to present time amos. at his age, playing is nearly impossible and he is having to face the fact that without tennis, he doesn't really know who he is. his answer to this has been to have some sort of identity crisis where all he does is party, drink and act out. so he's pretty much a mess and work in progress and is currently trying to figure his entire life out again. personality-wise: very extroverted, incredibly loyal when he cares, will find an excuse to fight anyone, indecisive, mischievous, doesn't take a lot of things seriously.

READ BELOW for fun facts, biography, possible connections.

random facts

has very silly, small tattoos all over his body and he can't remember how he got half of them. he also has one of his nipples pierced because he was dared to do it and he's not a quitter.

sundays are for surfing, sleeping in and loud music

doesn't wear a lot of jewelry except for a permanent bracelet given by his dads when he was just a baby. throughout the years, he's had to change and add room to it.

during his tennis career he earned more conduct sanctions than actual competitive titles, because of this he was considered a very volatile and aggressive player.

is known for throwing a summer bash at his beach house every year as a fourth of july celebration that normally ends up with some sort of drama or strange situation

believes in real love, like the one he saw with his dads growing up but struggles to open up enough to make real, long-lasting connections

he's so competitive that one time he played a monopoly game for over 8 hours just to get the win

he spends a lot of time at the country club, training in the tennis courts or lounging by the pool. also loves the nightlife and as someone very impulsive, will take random road trips without much of a warning

although he is disciplined and logical, follows his heart most of the times when it comes to important decisions in his life

biography

Born into a beautiful loving family, Amos De Leon saw and understood what real love and family was from a very young age. He witnessed his dads’ love and learned to be a big brother to his younger sister, Armi. The four were inseparable and incredibly lucky to have each other. Daniel and Tony always provided structure and warmth in their home, but by far, what shaped Amos into the man that he would eventually turn into was the way they always told their children to follow their dreams.

From a very young age, Amos was what most people would consider a prodigy. The boy lived and breathed tennis the moment that his hand met a racket and they never separated. He was up and training before school hours, and then after school. He’d always been ambitious but when he became old enough to join tournaments, that was when his fathers knew that there was no going back.

Despite his passion, Amos struggled with the discipline of a sport that always expected the best from its athletes. He was a free spirit just like his younger sister, and while his brain always wanted to win, his heart was more into running around, loving life, playing around town with his best friend, Kian. Instead of choosing one way though, by the time that he became a teenager, Amos had mastered his schedule and time like a pro. He was going to make it to the pros, no matter what.

His first sponsor signed him during his senior year of high school and when graduation came and went, Amos never looked back. From then on, his life became all about tournaments, opens, competitions. He would train in Wilmington, call it home, but would travel incredibly often for tennis-related things. If you ask him, this physical distance from his family is what ultimately made him begin to lose himself a little bit, because this is when Amos began to put the game above anything else, including love.

He was 29 and at the height of his career when he met Asher, the heir to a famous sports brand and who would eventually become his ex-husband. They’d always had a toxic relationship where they couldn’t find balance between Asher never having to work a day in his life and Amos always wanting to work and get better to be able to keep winning. For Amos, it was a struggle to find the time and effort to be a husband. As much as he loved Asher, he always found himself feeling like it wasn’t enough.

Marriage felt a lot like something that he needed to check off a list and not what he’d seen as he grew up with his fathers. So, it was a surprise to no one when Asher filed for divorce two years after their wedding, as by then, everyone knew that Amos had been seeing other people and had left their shared home with the excuse of needing to do what was best for his career and marriage, clearly, wasn’t it.

Amos never let himself miss his ex-husband, instead, he found himself at one of the best moments of his career. He won the U.S Open twice, then the Australian Open and eventually, and finally, Wimbledon. His life went back to what he’d always been: parties, hookups, drinks, women, men, fancy events, vacations, but he always found the time to fly back home. There was nothing like a hug from his dads, a beer with Kian and Armi, his own bed and he would not change that, not even for a longer career.

What Amos never took into consideration when he was younger was that sports careers are shorter than average, even if he was a top earner and competitor, at thirty-eight years old, Amos can’t keep up. In fact, most tennis players retire in their early thirties and he’s managed to add years into a career that has very quickly gone downhill. It was like right after winning Wimbledon, he could barely win anymore. Sponsors have slowly started to pull out of their contracts in the past five years and most recently, his coach announced that this will be his last season coaching him and as much as he likes to act like it’s not affecting him, it is. 

What once had felt like his perfectly crafted life, Amos has begun to realize that is nothing but empty titles, trophies and a fame that will surely disappear when he stops playing and although he wants to fight it, he knows that in a year’s time, his life will not be the same. He can count the people that he cares for with one of his hands and can’t even put a name to most people that he has hooked up with, the realization hit him that he doesn’t want to be alone. 

So, instead of trying to fix things, Amos has fallen into silent suffering and masking it with his usual repertoire of throwing parties, drinking and hooking up. When he’s not doing these things, he is lounging around the country club or his house, feeling incredibly sad but acting like he’s living his perfect almost retired life as he wraps up what will be his last season on the courts.

possible connections

friends, childhood friends, fwb, hook ups, one night stands, enemies, rivals, drinking buddies, partners in crime, love interests, anything you can think of that your character can fit into his life!