#but the more the Mari-er

[mxcottonsocks]

I've seen a few reviews of Lady Audley's Secret which say they either didn't enjoy the book because they were able to guess the secret early on, or who say they enjoyed the book despite guessing the secret early (I've been in this latter camp myself in the past).

But lately I've been thinking... I think the reader is supposed to know what "the secret" is.

[SPOILERS for Lady Audley's Secret below the cut.]

I think there's two things to bear in mind about Lady Audley's Secret:

It is a sensation novel, not a mystery novel. It certainly has a lot of elements of the modern mystery and detective genres, and (along with other sensation literature) did influence the development of those genres, but it predates them (in their modern forms at least). Therefore, while I understand why modern readers tend to approach the book with the expectation that it will conform to the standards of the mystery genre, I think we do the book and author a disservice when we do so.

Lady Audley has more than one "secret" throughout the book. I think there are at least three secrets, which I will refer to as: 1. The Initial Secret (bigamy; that Lucy Audley and Helen Talboys are the same person); 2. The Secret of the Cover Up (the conspiracy at Ventnor; pushing George down the well so her secret isn't revealed to Sir Michael); and 3. The Underlying Secret, the one which is referred to as "the secret of my life" and "the secret which is the key to my life" (that she's mad). Depending on your interpretation, there's also potentially another secret still (that she's not mad at all).

The Initial Secret, the bigamy, is the one I think most people are talking about when they say they guessed the secret. And yes, it is obvious. All the clues are fed to the reader within the first three chapters. Robert Audley doesn't enter the book until Chapter 4 and then spends a good chunk of the book investigating this secret (he also guesses the secret relatively early on, I think, and then sets about checking his suspicions).

The Secret of the Cover Up is also fairly obvious (the general gist of it, anyway, if not the details) relatively early. George's disappearance is what sparks Robert's investigation.

The Underlying Secret is perhaps less easy to guess, but not impossible. Robert doesn't guess this one ahead of its revelation, but the reader might.

So, yes, if a reader approaches the book with the expectation that there's one big secret and that it's going to take a lot of mental effort for the characters and reader to figure out, and that their suspicions will be confirmed or denied at the end of the book, they're likely going to be disappointed.

But I don't think that's what Braddon was trying to do.

Most of the dramatic tension of the novel does not come from the reader wondering "what is the secret". That's just one factor. Other factors include:

How information is revealed and concealed, both by characters and by the book itself

The escalation of events, secrets and stakes

The external conflict between the characters, especially the 'battle' between the protagonist and the antagonist (whichever way round you think they are - readers differ)

The internal conflict in the characters, especially Robert (e.g. duty to society vs duty to his family name; duty to his friend vs duty to his uncle)

Big Emotions

Questions of morality (e.g. where do different characters believe that a moral line is crossed, if at all? what do they think is forgivable behaviour? what do they think is justified-in-the-circumstances? what do they think is unforgivable? what do you, the reader, think?)

Lady Audley's Secret (and Sensation novels in general, from my experience so far) seems to be less about the 'destination' (i.e. what the secret is) and more about the journey, the drama and emotions along the way.

So yeah, this is all a very long-winded way of saying: yes, it's easy to figure out what's happened fairly early on in the book, but I think that's intentional on the author's part, and 'having it all figured out' needn't negatively affect our experience of the story if we don't let it.

[ethereal-maia]

mary bolkonskaya for blorbo bingo 🕯️🕯️🕯️

AAAAAAAHAKAAAA

you got me thinkin bout her like that one kicking my legs and blushing ms paint drawing

she’s just so very very !!!

another blorbo fill out sheet for her under the cut if u don’t mind <33

suchhhhhh a girlie 💗💗

[libraryleopard]

Young adult contemporary romance

When a overachiever Margo kisses another girl during a game of spin the bottle and realizes she's gay, she strikes a deal with openly bi Abbie to tutor Abbie in US history in exchange for learning about queer culture

Opposites-attract romance that explores sex positivity, biphobia, and learning to embrace your queerness

Autistic, Jewish lesbian main charactert; bi, Jewish main character with ADHD; F/F romance

[suguann]

✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

[fans4wga]

"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"

by Mary McNamara

"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.

Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.

This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.

More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.

But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.

Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.

Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”

“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”

If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.

“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”

Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.

A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”

When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.

Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)

Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.

Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.

Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.

The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”

Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.

Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.

At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.

It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."

[writingwithciara]

worth the wait ~matt sturniolo~

summary: 5 times matt wanted to tell his best friend he loved her + the 1 time he actually went through with it

word count: 3.8k

pairing: matt sturniolo x best friend!reader

notes: i love the 5+1 fics because they are just so cute. and who exudes cuteness more than our very own matthew sturniolo?

masterlist

december 31, 2013/january 1, 2014: the first time he knew & wanted to express it

it was new years eve and mary lou was throwing a party for her friends and family to celebrate the arrival of 2013.

a lot had gone on that year and she figured the best way to unwind would be to have all her closest friends together under one roof.

y/n was best friends with the matt and her parents were close to his own parents so inviting them over was the first thing that crossed marylou's mind.

y/n walked in like she owned the place and went right to matt and chris' bedroom.

"hey guys."

"what's up?" nick was the first one to greet her, as chris and matt were both occupied with a video game.

"remember how on christmas we were discussing the fact that people kiss at midnight on new years? and then we were deciding who we would all kiss when the clock struck 12?"

"of course i remember. what about it though?" chris set his controller down and the boys all looked at y/n.

"you guys were arguing over who wanted to kiss me at midnight but to settle it, i decided on my own."

"okay." matt leaned forward in his bean bag. "so who's it going to be?"

"you'll find out at midnight." she winked and skipped out of the room. the boys just glanced at each other, trying to figure out who she picked.

as midnight slowly approached, the boys were starting to feel sleepy. y/n had decided on kissing chris at midnight but when she looked over at him, he was passed out on the couch so she shook her head and made another decision.

matt noticed nick passed out too so he gently nudged y/n.

"guess that just leaves you." she smiled through a yawn.

"was i your last pick?"

"yeah. sorry."

"no. it's okay. at least i'm getting picked." he shrugged nonchalantly.

y/n just looked at him and smiled when she heard the adults start counting. "you ready?"

"is this going to be your first kiss?" he looked at his lap.

"nope. kissed donnie ryder on the last day of school before the break."

"oh okay." matt glanced over at the tv screen. "2 seconds."

"1" y/n leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on matt's lips. "happy new year, matty."

he was only 10 years old but to him, the kiss meant everything.

by the time y/n's parents were ready to leave, they noticed she was passed out on the couch with the boys. her head resting in chris' lap. mary lou looked down at the kids and smiled.

"you can leave her ere for the night. she'll be alright."

"are you sure?" y/n's mom glanced back and forth between her daughter and mary loud.

"of course. i'm sure the kids would all appreciate it in the morning."

"okay. thank you mary lou." y/n's parents smiled and headed home, leaving their child in the care of their best friend.

when the kids woke up in the morning, y/n was on the floor and matt's arm was laying across her face. she carefully moved it off her face and he woke up.

"i'm sorry. didn't mean to wake you." y/n looked at the other 2 who were fast asleep before looking back at matt.

"it's all good." he smiled and stretched. "happy new years, y/n."

"happy new years, matty." she repeated the response from a few hours ago and matt admired her for it.

there was something in the way she called him 'matty' that made him realize that at only 10 years old, he was in love with his best friend.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

august 1, 2016: the second time matt wanted to express his feelings

ever since they kissed on new years, matt couldn't stop thinking about y/n. she occupied every vacant thought he had and it bugged him. she was his best friend and he didn't want to be feeling this way.

at his 13th birthday, his brothers had all their friends over and although he loved nathan's company, he was always looking for y/n. he found her after 5 seconds of searching, which he knew was a little odd.

"happy birthday to my favorite triplet." she whispered as she pulled him into a tight hug.

"your favorite triplet? thought i was your overall favorite."

"well if it wasn't for justin, you would be."

"right. justin." matt looked around the room until his eyes landed on his older brother. y/n had revealed to him just last month that she had harboring a crush on justin for the last 2 years and it bothered matt. he understood that girls sometimes had crushes on older men but why couldn't she have a crush on him instead?

"he's so cute." she stared in justin's direction and matt felt the pit in his stomach begin to form.

"y/n, he's 19. ain't that a little too old for you?"

"maybe. but you can't help who you love."

there it was. the one word he wanted to express to her. the one word he couldn't figure out how to say to her. the only word he struggled with.

"no, you really can't." he looked at her briefly before looking down at his feet. "it's not really love, is it?"

"course not. think it's just a phase really. but i can't help it. we grew up with him always protecting us. it's admirable."

"yeah yeah. whatever." matt threw his hand out, gesturing that the idea was nonsense, causing y/n to roll her eyes playfully.

"it's time for cake." nick appeared, grabbing the two of them and dragging them into the kitchen towards the triplets cakes. each one of them was different but so were the boys so it matched perfectly.

"make a wish." mary lou smiled and pointed the camera at the boys as they each blew out their candles.

"i wished for a lot of candy."

"me too." chris smiled at nick and they both turned towards matt. "what did you wish for?"

matt, ever a believer in superstitions, knew that if he told anyone his wish, it wouldn't come true. he glanced to his right and smiled at y/n. "sorry boys. if i tell you, it won't come true."

his wish was to finally be able to be with y/n in the future. he didn't want to screw that up in any way.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

june 1, 2020: the third time he wanted to tell her but couldn't

"i think i want to start making youtube videos." matt sighed as he flopped down on y/n's bed.

they were almost 17 and neither of them had solid plans for after high school.

"i think that's a wonderful idea, matty." y/n sat up and looked at her friend. "what are you going to make them about?"

"well nick, chris and i were talking the other day and we came to the conclusion that we'll just film videos in the car somewhere and come up with random topics each time. or maybe we could do challenge videos every friday. what sounds better?"

"i like the car video idea. but i also like the idea of watching you guys go through challenges. especially if they're one of those gross food ones or something." y/n giggled at matt's expression.

"think the boys will be up for both?" matt sat up straight and looked at his feet. "what if we fail at this? what am i going to do?"

"matthew bernard, you are incredible. you'll figure life out and if the youtube career doesn't pan out the way you want it to, i'll be here to help you figure out your next step, alright?"

"okay." he looked up at her and smiled. "wanna film with us?"

"i don't think your female fans would appreciate that very much."

"we don't have fans."

"not yet. but you will. and you're going to be the favorite. the girls are going to love you."

"you think so?"

"of course i do." she smiled. "just don't forget me when you're famous."

"i could never forget you, y/n."

right then, matt felt like he could lean forward and kiss her. but he didn't. he restrained himself. instead, he brought up the topic y/n was trying to forget about.

"so, how's your crush on justin going?"

when she giggled and hit him with a pillow, he felt so much love for her. it was insane.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

august 1, 2022: the fourth time he wanted to tell her

the triplets had just turned 19 and they were throwing a party. even though it was just their group of friends, matt was feeling anxious. he didn't like crowds and his eyes roamed the group of people, looking for his favorite pair of eyes. when he couldn't find her, he felt his chest tighten. his grip on the cup he was holding began turning his knuckles white.

"hey, matty. wanna go hang out in your room for a bit? how's that sound?" y/n whispered beside him. he looked down at her and nodded slowly. she grabbed his cup, set it on the counter and guided him back to his bedroom. she passed nick on the way and he nodded in understanding.

when y/n sat matt on his bed, he looked at her and smiled softly.

"thank you." he let out a sigh. y/n sat next to him and wiped the lone tear off his cheek.

"anytime." she smiled in return.

the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before matt spoke up again.

"i know they're my friends out there but i just...i just..." he couldn't form the right words. y/n placed her hand on his and smiled.

"i get it, matt. you don't have to say anything."

"you don't have to stay in here with me, you know? they're your friends too."

"they may be, but you're my best friend and i feel you need the company more."

"thank you. i really appreciate it." he scooted up the bed until his back was against the headboard. y/n mimicked his actions and rested her head on his shoulder. he placed a kiss to the top of her head and lingered for a few extra seconds.

a few seconds he felt came off as a little more than platonic. but even if y/n noticed, she didn't say a thing. matt knew she was thinking about it though and he knew she didn't bring it up because she didn't want to make him uncomfortable & he couldn't love her more for it.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

february 14, 2023: the fifth time he wanted to tell her but couldn't

valentines day was a day mainly pointed at couples or people who wanted to spend a lot of money to get someone to love them. most of the time, it worked.

but for matt, it didn't.

he spent the past 5 months trying to get over y/n. after the birthday party, he figured that after almost 10 years of being in love with her and not being able to find the courage to tell her, he would just give up and try to focus his love elsewhere.

it resulted in multiple one night stands that never left him feeling as good as y/n did when she was around. he was too far in love with her to forget.

so when valentine's day slowly approached, he devised a plan to tell her how he felt. he bought her favorite flowers and bought her favorite food since she didn't like the traditional chocolate and roses. he also bought her balloons because he knew she liked the way the helium sounded. he knew it was ridiculous to spend money on someone but y/n was worth it to him.

he set everything up in his bedroom and waited for her arrival in the living room.

it was over an hour of waiting before she came through the front door, using the key he gave her.

"i am so sorry i'm late. i know we were supposed to hang out today but work was crazy swamped and my boss asked me to stay after my shift to help clean up the dinner rush."

"it's okay. we're not on any schedule." matt stood up from his spot on the couch and approached her. she smiled at him and let him guide her back to the couch. "you can pick the movie."

"i always pick the movie though. don't you want to pick just this once?"

"no. this is your day. i'm letting you pick. besides, i enjoy it when you pick. it always makes you happy."

"you're the best, matty." she kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. she pressed play on 'tangled' and even though they had watched the movie together about a hundred times, matt enjoyed it because y/n did. it was her favorite movie and he knew that.

halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang. y/n groaned in protest when matt removed his arm from around her shoulder and stood up.

"it's the food i ordered. be right back." matt ran down the stairs and grabbed the food, handed the driver a $20 tip and went back up to the living room. "happy valentine's day." he set the bag down and y/n opened it.

"you ordered my favorite meal?"

"of course." he smiled and watched as y/n began eating the food. she offered him a bite but he shook his head and she continued eating. when she finished, she looked at matt and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. she had some sauce on the corner of her mouth and matt thought it was oddly attractive.

"what are you staring at, weirdo?"

"you got a little something right here." he grabbed the napkin and dabbed her lips gently. her eyes briefly closed at the contact and matt took this second to admire her. he slowly pulled the napkin away and stood up quickly.

"you alright?"

"i almost forgot that i set something up in my room for you." he started walking to his room but stopped. "are you staying the night?"

"yeah. i'm too exhausted to drive home and i don't want to bother you for a ride since you already do so much for me." y/n approached him and smiled. "now let's go see what you have set up for me."

when y/n's eyes landed on the balloons, she gasped. then she saw the vase of flowers on matt's beside table & it was like she was in heaven.

she stood there in silence for a little too long so matt grabbed her hand. she was startled but she looked up at him with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

"you are so perfect, matty. and when you do this for a girl for real, she's going to love you endlessly."

he felt like shouting 'this is for real. why can't you see that?' at her, but he didn't. he wanted to tell her he loved her but he had no idea how to prove it.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

march 1 2024: the one time he was finally able to tell her

matt had been silently pining for his best friend for over 10 years and he knew that he needed to face his fears and finally let it out. he wanted to tell chris and ask him for help but he knew that would be a lost cause.

nick was almost no better than chris but he knew that at least with nick, he wouldn't get some bullshit back.

he slowly approached nick's door and knocked. "hey. it's matt. can i ask you for some advice?"

nick opened the door and looked at his brother. "what's up?"

"i need your advice on how to express your feelings for someone."

"just tell y/n how you feel. don't be too grand with the gestures because she hates those. make her favorite meal and jsut tell her everything."

"how do you know who-"

"please, matthew. it's been 10 years. i almost told her for you on her birthday last year but she was pulled away by chris just in time so you're lucky. and if you don't tell her soon, she's going to end up with some loser asshole and she'll be out of our lives forever. you don't want that, do you?"

"absolutely not. i can't let her out of my life." he smiled and went to turn away but a thought went through his mind and he frowned. "what if i tel lher and she freaks out? she'll be out of my life then too."

"she's not going to freak out. she may not like to admit it but she's been in love with you for the last 5 years at least. and before you ask me how i know, i'm attentive. i see things most people don't. but you need to tell her today before you lose her for good."

"why today?"

"she's got a date with simon at 6 and if all goes well, then you'll have lost your chance."

"fuck." he checked his phone and ran down the stairs quickly, throwing in and "i gotta go." on the way down. he grabbed his keys and ran to his car. fearing that he could lose y/n, he felt the car speeding up and when he pulled onto the familiar street, he got nervous and looked at the clock

4:58 pm

he parked in her driveway and knocked on her door. when she answered it, she smiled.

"oh hey matt. what's up?"

"we need to talk." he gently pushed himself past her and went to her kitchen to grab a root beer from the fridge.

"okay. and i repeat. what's up?"

"why didn't you tell me you had a date with simon?"

"what do you mean?"

"nick told me that you had a date with simon tonight. at 6. why didn't you tell me about it?"

"that was last night, matt."

"oh.

"and it wasn't much of a date." she sighed and opened her own bottle of root beer. "it was nice at first but after dinner, we were in his car and he kept putting his hand on my thigh. i told him to quit and he did. at first. but then he kept doing it and each time, his hand went further up." matt watched as y/n's sighed. "i freaked out on him and he called me a prude, then left me on the side of the road. so i walked all the way back here."

"why didn't you call me? i would've come to get you, you know that."

"i was embarrassed and i didn't want you to see me like that." she sighed. "i just felt so.... not good enough."

"okay, no. you don't get to feel that way after defending your own rights. it's ridiculous. he should be the one feeling like shit for the way he treated you. and i swear to god. if i ever see him out in public, i'm kicking his ass."

"matt, relax. it's fine now." y/n set her bottle down and put her hand on his arm. "the fact that you're here is enough to make me feel better."

"good." he looked at her. "for the record, you're more than good enough. he was the one who wasn't good enough for you. i don't think there's anyone alive who deserves you. you're too good of a person."

"well i want to find love eventually, matty." she sighed and looked down at her feet. "i don't want to be too good that nobody deserves me. and i have so much love to give but if nobody deserves me, then who am i gonna give it to?"

"give it to me."

"huh?" she looked up with wide eyes, not believing the words she had just heard.

"give your love to me. i know i am far from worthy but i can definitely do better than simon or any other guy in your life. i've built up so much love for you for the past 10 years and not being able to express it has been killing me. you are the single greatest thing in my life and i don't want anyone else to be with you."

"matt, are you serious?"

"100% serious." matt placed his hand gently on the side of her face. "god, i have loved you since i was 10 years old and you were my first kiss. new years day of 2013 was a life changer for me. it awakened love that i didn't think was possibly so young. and when i was going to tell you, you told me you had a crush on justin. not gonna lie, i cried that night. it sucked so bad." he chuckled. "but i've struggled to come up with a good way to tell you how i've been feeling. it sucked having to watch you with other guys for 10 years."

"matt, i love you. so much. your stupid face. your stupid smile. your stupid tattoos. even though none of you is actually stupid." y/n smiled. "i've loved you since your 9th birthday. and on new years when you asked if you were my last pick for the kiss, i lied. you were my first pick but i didn't want to seem too eager. and i also lied about kissing donnie ryder before break. all he did was kiss my cheek and wish me a merry christmas. you were my first real kiss."

"i hated donnie ryder for years because of that." matt chuckled. "but im glad i was your first."

"we may have been 10 but if i recall correctly, you were the best kiss i've ever had. and i've kissed a lot of guys since then."

"okay, i didn't need to know that. i just confessed my love to you and you're telling me there's been many guys as if i didn't know already." matt smirked. "but i do like that i was the best one."

"i think i need a new sample."

"oh is that so?" matt looked down at y/n as she inched closer. "if a new sample is what you want, then it's what you'll get.

he pulled her in and placed his lips on hers gently. she kissed back immediately and when she smirked into the kiss, matt wrapped his arms around her hips and deepened the kiss.

more than 10 years of feelings was being poured out into the kiss and it was the best kiss either of them had ever had.

"since i was your first kiss, can i also be your last?" matt asked in a low whisper as he pulled away slowly.

"yes. absolutely. a thousand times yes." y/n smirked and kissed him again. and again.

they couldn't get enough of each other and their unspoken commitment to each other was all they needed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

[markrosewater]

Hi mark. It’s me, the guy that was complaining about orphans of the wheat. I wanted to start by apologizing for using the word lazy. I wasn’t trying to say that the people who make this game don’t put a ton of thought and effort and care into it, but I totally get how my wording made it sound like I was trying to say that. I’m genuinely sorry I came off like I was belittling the immense work you all do.

I also want to clarify that I wasn’t trying to say “I don’t like this thing therefore it is bad”. Millions of people play magic, all with very different tastes, and I’m just one weirdo. Everybody is going to have aspects of the game they like and aspects they dislike, my opinion is not objectively correct.

What I was originally trying to get at was that it feels as though a lot of designs that are “based on” something feel like they are getting more overt. Bonny Pall is the example my brain always goes back to because the name is almost the exact same thing as what it’s flavored after, Paul Bunyan. Orphans of the wheat is just a more recent example of this and what sparked me sending my initial message.

A few years ago, I saw a video on YouTube of a speech you made, I think it was your 30 years 30 lessons one. In it you talk about how akroan horse was originally Akroan Lion, and players didn’t get it, but when you changed it to akroan horse, suddenly people loved it and it felt so flavorful. I get that it’s important to make sure that people get the reference when you’re making one. And I get that it’s a delicate balance. Too subtle, and people don’t get it; but too overt, and bozos like me send giant messages complaining.

My qualm with Children of the wheat is that it is an example of a pattern I feel like I’m seeing where you are erring on the side of “gotta make sure they get it”, to the point that sometimes it feels like the reference is being beaten over our head. But I do recognize how that’s just my perspective and other people have different opinions on where the line is for “too obvious”. For example, I think Altanak and say its name are awesome. I like how the art is someone looking in a mirror and if you say its name three times then you summon the big bad monster. But I totally get how someone else might see that and say “well all they did was make Bloody Mary a bug”. And I also totally get how there might be another person who didn’t even get the reference and would’ve needed a card called “mutilated Miranda” to realize it.

This whole *thing* is just my way of saying that designs that are references to something feel like they are more and more often mutilated Miranda or Bonny Pall or orphans of the wheat, and that fewer and fewer of them are getting even one step removed from what they are referencing.

Thanks for taking the time to write back. It means a lot to me. How close we get to references is something we’re constantly reevaluating. We’ve definitely got the note that this year indexes too high on the obvious references.

[hedgehog-moss]

"rn I feel like reading about someone's quiet daily life, maybe a diary or letters, set in a place or context I don't know much about, without turmoil or tragedy" oh! do you have any recommendations for books like this?

This is one of my favourite types of books! Here are 30(ish) recs...

May Sarton's The House by the Sea or Plant Dreaming Deep

Gyrðir Elíasson's Suðurglugginn / La fenêtre au sud (not translated into English unfortunately!), also Bergsveinn Birgisson's Landslag er aldrei asnalegt / Du temps qu'il fait (exists in German too)

Gretel Ehrlich's The Solace of Open Spaces, which iirc was originally written as journal entries and letters before being adapted into a book

Kenneth White's House of Tides: Letters from Brittany and Other Lands of the West

Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book

The Diary of a Provincial Lady, E. M. Delafield

Growing Up with the Impressionists: The Diary of Julie Manet

Elizabeth and Her German Garden by Elizabeth von Arnim (do not read if you don't like flowers)

The Road Through Miyama by Leila Philip (I've mentioned it before, it feels like this gif)

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, I keep recommending this one but it's so nice and I love snails

Epicurean Simplicity, Stephanie Mills

The Light in the Dark: A winter journal by Horatio Clare

The Letters of Rachel Henning

The letters of Tove Jansson, also The Summer Book and Fair Play

The diary of Sylvia Townsend Warner—here's an entry where she describes some big cats at the zoo. "Frank and forthcoming, flirtatious carnivores, [...] guttersnipishly loveable"

The Letters of Rachel Carson & Dorothy Freeman were very sweet and a little bit gay. I mostly remember from this long book I read years ago that Rachel Carson once described herself as "retiring into her shell like a periwinkle at low tide" and once apologised to Dorothy because she had run out of apple-themed stationery.

Jane Austen's letters (quoting the synopsis, "Wiser than her critics, who were disappointed that her correspondence dwelt on gossip and the minutiae of everyday living, Austen understood the importance of "Little Matters," of the emotional and material details of individual lives shared with friends and family")

Madame de Sévigné's letters because obviously, and from the same time period, the letters of the Princess Palatine, Louis XIV's sister-in-law. I read them a long time ago and mostly I remember that I enjoyed her priorities. There's a letter where she complains that she hasn't received the sausages she was promised, and then in the next paragraph, mentions the plot to assassinate the King of England and also, the Tartars are walking on Vienna currently.

Wait I found it:

R.C. Sherriff's The Fortnight in September (quoting the author, "I wanted to write about simple, uncomplicated people doing normal things")

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

Pond, Claire-Louise Bennett

Rules for Visiting, Jessica Francis Kane

The following aren't or aren't yet available in English, though some have already been translated in 5-6 languages:

ツバキ文具店 / La papeterie Tsubaki by ito Ogawa

半島へ / La péninsule aux 24 saisons by Mayumi Inaba

Giù la piazza non c'è nessuno, Dolores Prato (for a slightly more conceptual take on the "someone's everyday life" theme—I remember it as quite Proustian in its meticulousness, a bit like Nous les filles by Marie Rouanet which is much shorter and more lighthearted but shows the same extreme attention to childhood details)

Journal d'un homme heureux, Philippe Delerm, my favourite thing about this book is that the goodreads commenter who gave it the lowest rating complained that Delerm misidentified a wine as a grenache when actually it's a cabernet sauvignon. Important review!

Un automne à Kyôto, Corinne Atlan (I find her writing style so lovely)

oh and 西の魔女が死んだ / L’été de la sorcière by Kaho Nashiki —such a little Ghibli film of a book. There's a goodreads review that points out that Japanese slice-of-life films and books have "a certain way of describing small, everyday actions in a soothing, flawless manner that can either wear you out, or make you look at the world with a temporary glaze of calm contentment and introspective understanding [...]"

I'd be happy to get recommendations in this 'genre' as well :)

[zepskies]

A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says. 

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto. 

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides. 

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

[inbabylontheywept]

your life stories are always so interesting so i shall poke a stick into the cage and ask for more. do you have any fun stories of near death experiences? personally i choked on a lifesaver as a child and could not breathe

personally? not really. ive got a pretty decent hospital story though.

see, my grandpa was in charge of the easter pageant in my state. its a big mormon thing, a lot of other churches come because its just good easter worship. anyway, in part of the pageant, theres a pony for jesus and mary to ride around on. technically supposed to be a donkey, but ponys are just so much more photogenic. anyway this happened when my little sister was going through her little-girl-pony phase, so this was so major-league shit to her. so much so that my grandpa, who i still miss so much, brought this pony to our house so she could ride it.

my little brother? he also wanted to ride it. and i didnt really want to ride it, but they were both so small someone kind of needed to hold those two onboard, and i was the lighest person capable of doing so, (didnt want to overload the pony) so i went on the back too.

and it was a stellar time until the donkey went under a tree, then my little sister hit her head on a branch and fell left, and her fall took my little brother out because he was holding onto her, and both of them took me out, so we all fell off the pony, but me with 2 kids on my left arm.

god blessed me with a third elbow that day.

here are the things that followed after the Miracle of the Third Elbow

my autistic dad came outside to check on me. id broken my arm the year before, so i knew what it was, and i knew what it felt like, so i was able to pretty clearly go "yeah, dad, i broke my arm." and he was able to go "whew. yeah. thats like, harry potter broken." and i was able to say "yeah. yeah it hurts pretty bad." and he said "oh, yeah, definitely. that looks horrible." and then i basically said something like "hopital" and he was like "right" and then we left. my memory after that gets weird.

i can remember driving up main street, and seeing this guy dancing. like, full on dancing down the street. and i asked my dad about why that guy was dancing, and he said that man was a schizophrenic, and he was medicated, but the medication had just made it so that his voices told him to dance instead of hurt himself. now he danced all the time. i should clarify that my dad worked in the ER so he knew a lot of the local homeless on a life-story kind of level. my dads a good guy.

i can remember sitting in the waiting room with a magician that had sliced his right hand open pretty bad while cooking. he was trying his best to keep us entertained with his cards, but because he was doing all his tricks left handed, he'd mess them up sometimes and it was actually kind of more fun to watch than just him in expert mode. another good guy. very friendly, but visibly repulsed by my arm.

i can remember being in a bed, and a nurse coming up to me and saying that they could give me some painkillers, which i was super stoked about, but the IV from the painkillers basically required being stabbed with a needle as thick around as a pencil. she recomended saying the alphabet backwards when she put the needle in, and i said i didn't know how, and then she stuck in the needle in. over 4 seconds i was able to go from z to c, a feat i have never since been able to replicate.

after the painkillers, i watched a tv show called Jackie Chan Adventures, which was an animated cartoon with an animated Jackie Chan, voiced by the real Jackie Chan, solving mysteries. i actually assumed that whole thing was a hallucination until i was an adult, and i was describing it to my wife, and she was like "no, that actually happened." which was funny to happen to me, because when me and her started dating, she just kind of dropped how awesome it was that obama was the first muslim president, and i was like what, no hes an episcopalian, and it turns out that her dad, who sucks for many reasons, had told her that obama was a muslim, and she was sweet enough to believe that, and also to just be like oh, neat, our president is black and a muslim, we are truly moving forward as a counry." i love her so much.

no memories of it after that. not even sure when i got home. just a straight up weird time.

[mxcottonsocks]

finished watching the 2000 adaptation of Lady Audley's Secret... what have they done to my boy...

[woso-dreamzzz]

Read II

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar

You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.

It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.

They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.

You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.

Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.

You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.

They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.

You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.

You don't count but it's definitely a lot.

Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.

You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.

"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."

"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"

You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."

"Are you sure? I can take you."

"No, Mary. My book, please."

"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.

You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.

"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."

You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.

"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.

"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"

"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.

"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"

Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"

Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"

Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"

Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."

Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.

It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.

The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.

Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."

She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.

This is all their fault, Mary knows it.

It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.

"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."

"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"

You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."

[madwcman]

Mess It Up

wc: 1.2k | miu masterlist

cw: second chance romance, shy! reader, plus! size reader, implied (?) anxiety and mother issues

“I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in, we can make it better, breaking every habit.”

You currently have two problems at the moment. One, you’re late to meet your friends and two, your jeans don’t seem to fit right today. Standing in the mirror you couldn’t help but glare at yourself. Something was off. your jeans felt too tight around your waist. It made you uncomfortable. You know it’s your mind tricking you but you can’t seem to get rid of that voice in your head. You have to think of a solution fast.

You couldn’t help but sigh, as you were rushing out of your apartment, in your uncomfortable jeans to meet Mary ; Lily ; Lily's new boyfriend and new boyfriend’s friends. You were nervous to say the least. You hated meeting new people. You hated speaking. Each time You spoke You felt clumsy and awkward with your words. you can’t help but fell a little sad. You used to know how to speak with your mind when you were seventeen, but now at the age of twenty you think all you can utter is stiff and unbearable small talk.

But you had a little hope. You have Mary to buffer off of today. Mary loves to talk. And you were forever grateful for that. That means you won’t have to say much today. Hell Mary might even introduce you to Lily's new boyfriend and his friends for you! In fact you’re counting on it.

Stomach queasy, jeans tight around your chubby stomach, and mind screaming for you to turn around and leave. You open the door to the pub, nose twitching to the smell of greasy foods and cheap beer. But you smile, though this place reeked; it was one of your favorite spots to meet with Lily and Mary. You have so many memories here.

“Y/n! Over here!” your eyes glanced over to your friend, Mary, who is not at your regular table. she sits at a slightly larger table. Although you’re still feeling nervous you can’t help but smile at the dark haired girl who’s slightly standing with her hand raised high, waving at you to join her. You wave to Mary as you walk over.

“You look great!” Mary stands, wrapping her arms around you. Hugging you tightly. you always seem to calm around Mary. You don't feel as jumpy from when you walked it.

“You too!” you try to smile, with your mouth open showing your teeth. Showing you’re very happy to be there, but somehow it always feels awkward. Unnatural in a way. You smile again, this time mouth closed but your smile is wide. Though you were dreading coming today, you already feel it’ll be okay.

“Hey!” you and mary turn to look at your third friend, rushing up to greet her.

Lily smiles, her eyes crinkle. you’ve always found Lily beautiful. Her body has always been nicely curved, skin freckled, loose curly hair that was a nice shade of red and beautiful green eyes that always stood out. Lily always looked lovely. “This is James.”

Letting go of Lily, you turn your head over to your friend's new boyfriend. James was tall. He was a few inches taller than Mary who stood at five-eight. He had to be at least six feet tall. His complexion was bronze and glowly, his smile was bright. It was contagious. His hair was dark, wild and curly. He wore something simple. A white shirt with a brown button up over it, with blue jeans. His wide rimmed glasses stood out. They fit him perfectly.

“Hello!” He smiled rather crookedly, raising his hand in hello. You decided right then and there he’d be good for Lily.

“Hi, is it just you?” Though polite, Mary couldn’t help but be blunt.

“Er- no, my mates-“ before James could finish, two more boys strolled in.

Both boys were pale and had blue eyes, the shortest of the two lad’s had a red face that looked like it came from sunburn over the summer heat, with blond hair that only slightly curled at the end. And though he had blue eyes like the other boy his was a darker blue. The taller boy clearly used sunscreen unlike the other, his skin had no signs of redness. His eyes were light blue- an almost silver like color. His hair was long, curly and dark. He was very pretty.

“I’m Sirius.” he smiles, and claps the smallest boy on his back. “This is Peter, but we call him Pete.”

“I told you to not call me that, idiot.” Peter snips at his friend, taking Sirius’ hand off his back. “I’m Peter!” he turns back to the girls, reintroducing himself.

“Where’s moony?” James looks over to his friends with a concerned look on his face.

“He’s on his wa-“

“I’m here.” Your heart dropped at the sound of the man’s voice. You turn your head and your jaw drops a little. You’d never thought you would have to run into him ever again. Remus Lupin, your once best friend, now just a stranger.

It was strange seeing Remus again. He was taller, his face and body more built and leaner than You remembered. His scars are still the same. One large and faded scar across his nose. starting from his left cheek to the right one. Another scar slightly crossing the original scar vertically on his left cheek continuing to cross over his left eye and eyebrow. He has another few small scars on his chin and lower lip. He still has his small freckles (which he desperately hated) from when he was a boy. His hair was still a chocolate brown color, the only different thing about his hair was it wasn’t just a mop of curls like the last time you saw him, his hair was shaped into a nice mod cut.

You were surprised at how Remus could look the same yet, so different. you were shocked. He seemed to be a little caught off guard when you both made eye contact.

Lily breaks the small tension, with the clap of her hands. “Great now that everyone’s here, I believe you two need to introduce yourselves!” She turns over to you and Mary, waiting.

“I’m Mary.” Mary smiles, keeping her distance. Not knowing what else to say. Turning her head over to you.

“Oh, and I’m Y/n.” You say it a little awkward, feeling slightly embarrassed. Sirius can’t help but laugh a little. “You don’t speak much, do you?” He asks, a charming smile in tow.

“That's our Y/n, she doesn't really talk around new people.” Mary offered, wrapping her arm around you. Her smile wide. She always thought your “shyness” was adorable.

You couldn’t help but feel flustered and self-conscious. It was true you never really talk while being introduced to new people. You grew shy overtime with speaking. Your mum always used to say you always talked too much. So you taught yourself to quiet down.

You glance at Remus, his eyebrows were raised in question, his eyes squinting. You couldn’t help but look at the scar that went across Remus’ left eyebrow. It was long and it always stretches when he lifts up his eyebrows. You always couldn’t help but stare at it, it suits him. You liked it. but, you knew Remus was trying to read you. You already knew what he was thinking: when did y/n y/l/n become shy? You could laugh, you started quieting down when Remus left.

Looking away from his scar, you met his dark brown eyes. His stare still hard and questioning. All you could do was shrug. You had nothing to say, not anymore. Looking back to Mary and Sirius you pulled away from Mary and took Sirius’ hand, shaking it with a closed and timid smile.

[chaosandmarigolds]

siedem 🚑🚑

EMS AU thingyyy!!!

summary: Simon is hopelessly in love with the newest paramedic on base, however he just has the social skills of a five year old…plus what could he deserve someone like you? tw: mentions of a shitty bf and girl code kicks in strong

For the record you had two relationships in your past, however one was from kindergarten and the other was a little high school relationship so weren't sure if those could count lord knew with paramedic school and then the military you weren't exactly...seeking a romantic partner.

however, the terrifying lieutenant seemed to catch your interest. Much to your dismay because he seemed interested as well and that would be a bad thing but- well, you were sure if he did actually or if…maybe he’s just weird.

"Men are shit." The girl next to you had down at least five beers in the past ten minuets, however she seemed somewhat stable. So from where you kept your face buried within your arms you look up from the bar counter.

she looked around your age, if not you if you had the guts to wear a dress like hers- never thought a little black and shiny dress would do you any good. Either way, off topic, you were more concerned with the laceration on the side of her head- habit you supposed.

see person = trauma assessment or something like that so with a little grumble you push the vodka soda had been nursing for the night and look at her. “What happened to your face?” That…sounded so much meaner than you intended it too. The words a bit grumbled together and sleepy.

the girl looks at you and flashes a giddy smile, “You should see the other guy!”

you blink slowly, “There’s a other guy?”

She tilts her head to your remark and then brings the glass to her perfectly painted lips, “You’re not bright, are ya? No, my boyfriend sucks ass and threw my purse at me-“

“that’s mean.”

“men are mean.”

To that you hum and grab a napkin, splitting it in half as you move to stand to the side of her. “M a paramedic, m gonna help you.” she lets you dab the napkin on the small cut, the cloth sticking to it, “Honey bun, how many have you had?”

that was weird question, so you blink and then turns slowly to the glass, “Tw…thrr…four? No…I dunno. A few.”

the bartender chimes in- two vodka sodas and a shot of tequila. So the girl gives a laugh and then hops off of her seat, her heels making her a foot taller than you. And she pats your shoulder, “Let’s get you- oh.” As she tried to redirect you back to your seat and turned she was met with a man.

you let out a laugh, a beaming and giddy grin on your face, “Oh my god!! Lieutenant freaking- oh I shouldn’t say freaking, sorry uh- Lieutenant Riley! Hi!!”

the girl glances to you and slowly moves to make a small barrier, his overall deamor not exactly putting her to ease, “Hi. I’m Genny- and my cousin, Allie.”

What?

to that the lieutenant leans over to catch your eyes and to that you give an exaggerated look of confusion, and he speaks, “You have a cousin?”

you huff and shake your head, tapping the girl on the arm, “She’s jus being nice; this is- this is my boss, kinda sorta but he’s super weird but like…I dunno, but I’m his boss and he’s my boss.”

“You’re not my boss.”

“But Mary-!”

Simon looks to Genny and then gives a brief explanation on who he was and who you were, “Thank you for trying to protect her. But we have a meeting’ at 0600 tomorrow nd’ I need to get ‘er home.” He then looks to you, “C’mon.”

(I’m just yapping. Idk. Idk. Comments and feedback mean so so much, tootles!!)

[pixiesfz]

blessing in disguise j.r

plot: Jill tore her acl but she's just glad she gets to spend more time with the new physio

warnings: none atm

It was your first week as a new physio when Jill tore her ACL, your eyes widened when you heard "How many ACLs have happened this year?" you ask your co-worker Ally as you walked to the room, she was seeing Chloe Kelly as you were to see Jill "too many".

You were laughing at a joke when you opened the door. Jill was already sitting down, still tired from her surgery but her eyes widened when she saw you.

Your smile was beautiful and your hair flowed behind you, you held a coffee and files from Jill's hospital surgeon. You had on a man city jumper and your own jeans which Jill is embarrassed to say fit you quite nicely.

"Hi I'm Y/n and I'll be your personal physio during these 9 months" You introduced yourself with a handshake which Jill accepted "are you new I've never seen you before," she asked and you nodded your head "I just started last week" you smiled and Jill smirked "Sorry for interrupting your slow start"

You laughed as you set up your set "honestly it's fine but I am sorry about your ACL" you frowned as both your eyes fell to her knee which was covered by a nude bandage.

"I would say it's okay but it's really not" Jill said with a shrug and you nodded "It's not ideal but with lot's of therapy and check ups I plan to have you out on the field as soon as I can" you smiled.

"So before I poke at your delicate knee how about we learn about each other a nice ice breaker" you suggested, grabbing a chair and sitting in front of Jill who nodded.

"Do you have any pets?" she asked and you shook your head "Not yet but I plan to" you said "Do you like it here in Manchester?" you asked and she nodded "It's really nice and different from Germany".

You grew comfortable with Jill quite quickly as she did with you and as you passed her the crutches and helped her up she looked back at you "I thought of one more question" she announced "shoot"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

You couldn't help the slight blush that spread across your cheek "No, especially no boyfriend but as of now I'm single" You smiled before you both bid goodbye.

You met with Ally after your shift as you ate fast food at a random beach near the City head quarters.

"Chloe just kept on talking about her wedding plans it was funny" she laughed and looked at you for information "Jill asked me if I had a boyfriend" you laughed and Ally slapped your leg and you winced "what was that for?" you asked, rubbing your leg.

"She was so hitting on you!"

You rolled your eyes "no she wasn't she was probably just intrigued" you told her and Ally gave you a pointed look before mummbling "intrigued to get in your pants"

This time you hit her.

"Ow!"

Jill was sitting and watching training when Chloe sat next to her "So did you meet the new physio, what she like?" she asked and Jill blushed.

hot. she thought.

"She's really nice, I just apologized that her first job was an ACL she didn't really mind though" Jill told the blonde who nodded "Is she pretty?" Kelly asked and Jill looked at her "Why would that matter?"

"Because you are lonely and it's sad to watch"

Jill raised her eyebrows at her friend's confession before Mary and Kerstin came over and agreed with her.

"Okay well to answer your question, yes she is very pretty" Jill shared with blushed cheeks "but she is also my physio and not my girlfriend"

"That's how all love stories start!" Mary smiled with joy and her national teammate just patted her non injured knee.

"ga er gewoon voor, als je het verprutst, zijn er andere fysio's" Kerstin shrugged and Jill covered her mouth in shock of her words "I am not dating the new physio!" she said in shock.

(just go for it, if you fuck it up just go to another physio)

“I don’t know what you just said” Mary frowned at her friend before they all walked off with smiles.

For Jill’s next appointments with you her little crush had turned into a big crush and you can’t say that you didn’t feel the same.

The blonde Dutch girl was beautiful and you constantly left the room with a smile and red cheeks.

When Jill’s next appointment with you arrived she couldn’t help but blush at the sight of you, you were still in your uniform but your hair was brushed up into a pony tail that showed off your cheek bones.

“How does it feel?” You asked and Jill just nodded “it’s alright to walk now” she said and you smiled “that’s amazing Jill” you told her and she smiled.

“I wanna see you walk, just incase I see a bend or something that I can help you with” you said as you held your clipboards.

“Right now?” Jill asked and you nodded “we can walk up to a coffee shop nearby, I haven’t had my coffee yet and it will be beneficial” you smiled and Jill laughed at your excuse to get a coffee.

“Do you need to see me walk or are you using me to get coffee?” she smirked and you breathed in

“Would it be bad if I said both?”

You and Jill were laughing together as she started walking and you filmed for her tik tok she wanted to make.

“I’m really proud of you Jill this is great” you told her and she blushed but thankfully it was cold so she could blame it on the weather.

You both got your coffee and sat down together, to anybody nearby it would look like a date.

“How bout some more fun facts about each other?” Jill suggested and you nodded your head. “I have two dogs, both cocker spaniels” you smiled “what are their names?” Jill asked you smiled “well one’s name is Rocky and the other one is named Shaggy”

“Shaggy!?”

“My sister named him not me!” You defended yourself as you both laughed.

“Okay what about you?” You asked the blonde who thought for a second “I’m kind of happy to at I’m injured”

You were shocked and cocked your head “why, you can’t play the sport you love?”

“Yeah but you get to try new things and meet new people” she explained and you smiled “I guess you would have never met me”

“Exactly” she responded and you blushed.

For the next couple of months not either of you had made a move which was weird to all of your friends.

“She definitely likes you back Jill”

“Y/n I swear to god if you do not ask her out I will injure you”

Ally was a bit more forward than the city girls.

It wasn’t until your sessions with Jill were coming to an end she realised that she really had to make a move on you but she really didn’t know how to.

After all maybe you were just really nice to her because you had to.

It was your job.

But when they did end and she made her way back onto the field it was always you she looked for in the crowd or next to the bench with your take away coffee in hand.

“I think I rolled my ankle” Jill told you as she saw you walking in the head quarters, your brows rose “well where does it hurt, do you want me to bandage it?” You asked and the girl nodded as you took her to your room.

“This is your third rolled ankle in two weeks Jill I’m not sure you can play” you tutted as you went away at your computer, writing down about her visits.

Jill rolled her head back.

Couldn’t you just get the hint.

“Is it a certain drill that you keep doing that-“

“I didn’t roll my ankle y/n” Jill interrupted you and you furrowed your brows “I was about to write you off for the game Jill!” You told her “why on earth would you lie about that?”

Jill felt small as you looked at her with mostly concern but you also had anger as she had lied to you but know she was forced to tell the truth.

“Well I like hanging out with you”

Your face softened and the dutches words “You don’t have to be injured to talk to me” you told her and she shrugged “I guess I was too scared”

“You? You scoff “scared?”

Jill laughed “oh cmon when you ask your crush out it’s hard”

Your cheeks blushed “so I’m a crush?”

Jill’s eyes popped and her cheeks reddened “I didn’t mean to say it out loud” she panicked

You just smiled and placed the tape that you were going to place on her down “I get it, asking your crush out is hard, that’s why I haven’t asked you out yet”

Jill turned to you with a smirk “So I’m a crush?”

“Shut up” you laughed and wiped your hands on your pants “y/n?” Jill asked and you looked up “yes Jill?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smiled “I would love to”

[tarjapearce]

Now I’m curious of how wife!reader and Miguel meets again 😭 and how they started dating. Do they meet again at a different hosted party and Miguel asks her for a dance this time ((and her name 💀))

🤭🤭 Actually

Pt. 3

The whistling from the referee echoed through as the men on the field began playing. Jessica, once more, had kidnapped you after finding you were in a blue mood after you got ditched in a date.

"Never going through Tinder again." you had mumbled as she offered you tissues.

But of course, partially the reason why you had came was

1. Shirtless men playing

2. Jessica and another red headed woman and you, were in charge of the water and refreshing drinks.

You found out that Mary Jane Watson was her name, or MJ for shorts was dating Peter, the guy that had hosted the carneada. She was pretty easygoing. However, the familiar hulking figure running through the field stood out like a sore thumb.

"Hey" You name was called by Jessica that followed your eyes and smirked

"Oh, that's Miguel."

"I know. Met him at the party remember?"

"Heard he has a girlfriend. But doubt it. "

You shrugged.

"Okay? He just helped me out a little."

"Hmm."

A little disappointment settled in your chest.

In any case, your attention was snapped back to the field and the little ruckus on the field. Miguel was held by Peter and another man called Ben, as the rival player kept provoking him. Gabriel pulled him back.

"Oh, Drácula is pissed"

"You kidding? They're playing dirty." MJ spoke, concern plastered all over her face as Peter tried to calm the situation.

You watched from the water station, eyes following the ball, but they couldn't help but to land on Miguel. Shirt soaked in sweat, hair down, some strands sticking to his forehead, and neck, pouty mouth panting and cursing.

"Pasámela, pendejo!" (Pass it, you dumbass! )

A giggle escaped from you as he pinched his nose bridge with one hand. He moved but the crowd gasped. One minute he was walking away and the next he was on the floor, cursing and limping. His knee was scrapped and it bled. The good thing was that the guy that had injured him, got a red card.

"Do you happen to have any first aid kit by any chance?" Peter approached as Jess and MJ shook their heads.

"I think I have one in my car. I'll get it."

Peter smiled and went back to Miguel, mahogany eyes immediately following your form.

When you approached him, he had removed his shirt to dry the sweat off his forehead, to then slick his hair back. Eyes staring at you with a little smirk.

"Pitufina, eres tú?" (Smurfette is that you?)

"In the flesh, Gargamel."

You both chuckled as you sat before him, he was about to wipe the caked blood and dirt with his sweaty shirt. Your hand slapped his away

"¿Estás loco? Se te va a infectar!" (You're crazy? It'll get infected)

"It's just a scrap"

"Cállate. God, your girlfriend must be a saint to put up with you."

A swab of cotton was soaked in alcohol, he quirked an eyebrow at your words and chuckled.

"No tengo-" (I don't have-)

He hissed as your hand wiped the blood first. The chemical stung on his raw skin, but seeing you focused, a little furrow on your pretty face made the sting to slowly fade . You then grabbed a gauze and wiped gently the excess of fluid.

You looked up at him and pursed your lips

"So I can..."

"Sorry, Out of game for now." You laughed at his words and shook your head.

"Who said I wanted to?" He chuckled at yours

"No, I was meaning to do this without remorse." You sprayed him some antiseptic and he batted your hands away with a mild panic expression, as the initial burn was a bit too much.

"Hija de la chin-" (Son of a-)

You laughed. as he fanned the scrap

"Esa mierda arde!" (That shit burns!)

"Ay, no estés de llorón. It's just a scrap remember? " (Don't be a cry baby)

"Not fucking funny" He grumbled as you gave him a bottle of water and a towel. His fingers brushed against yours, the touch lingering for a bit longer than it should.

"For me it is. I'll put a gauze on it okay?

"Déjalo así" (Leave it like that)

"No. It's too fresh for you to keep it exposed"

He was about to bat yout hands away when you loomed the antiseptic spray directly on his wound. He stopped and frowned, a finger trying to threaten you.

"Cuidadito" (Careful)

"Haz caso entonces." (Do as you're told, then)

You just glared at eachother.

"Get a room already." Gabriel casually mumbled as he picked another bottle of water. The rest just looked your way with silent mirth. They had been watching cautiously the interaction between the two of you.

The comment instantly made you pout, a soft flush on your cheeks. Gabriel left.

"Ese pendejo..." (That dumbass)

He grumbled and scratched his neck awkwardly.

"Anyways..." You sighed and applied some vaseline at the wound. Your hands were gentle, caring and soft.

"Pitufina"

You grumbled your name as you finished covering his wound.

"Right." He nodded with a tiny smile

Silence.

You were putting the things back in the kit. Eyes following your every motion, you were nervous. He smirked

"Wanna go... and get some food later? My treat"

He blinked at your sudden question. All smugness vanishing from him.

"After you've taken a shower and changed of course" You giggled and looked up at him.

His heart beat a bit faster and he gulped almost imperceptibly.

"Si quieres, claro" (If you want to, that is)

You smirked with a shrug. His mouth gaped softly

"¿Es un si? " (Is that a yes?)

He just nodded, still a little shaken from what just happened.

"Bueno, Adiós Drácula." (Well, see you)

You left after patting his thigh gently, His ears went a little pink.

He didn't see that coming at all. He smiled inwardly. Yeah, he'd better step his game up. He was rusted, but you'd definitely worth the shot.