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tinydeskwriter · 1 year

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Safe Harbor in a Storm (Dirty Trick. Part II)

A/n: I tried🤷🏻‍♀️

word count: 1473

2023 Grammy’s Award Night

The cameras flashes were blinding. Tonight especially, it seemed brighter than usual.

The frantic photographers screaming her name and asking for a new pose. She gave them her million dollars smile and posed to the camera, relaxing a little feeling her husband’s hand in her small back, drawing circles with his finger against the black lace of her naked dress. His hands eventually found hers against her growing belly—something that happens often since she announced her pregnancy the year before, it had been almost impossible to keep it a secret with her protective, affectionate husband always putting his hands on her, caressing ‘their’ bump— camera flashes fire more aggressively.

The award season was their last ‘work related commitments’ before their baby birth in late may, they planned to welcome their lil nugget in London, close to his family and their closest friends—after a month long babymoon in Italy, full hours under the sun by the beach, delicious pastries and pastas— she would have three months of recover and then they would be on the road again—with their newborn—, going from one country to another.

Y/n loved how dedicated her husband was to her and their growing little family.

Her heart felt ready to burst with love at the sight of the handsome Brit she had married a year and a half ago.

Andrew was truly her dream man. All she ever wished a husband would be. It was like she had dreamed her perfect man he be became true.

They met through mutual friends a month after her painful break up with Harry. She went out with friends to celebrate that her ex had just take the rest of his stuff from her house. It had been hard, even with her ultimatum, Harry went forward with what Jeff though better, and for some reason the man had convinced himself that he would be able to sweet talk his way out of losing her. He failed to understand that Y/n Y/l/n was no man’s pretty little fool, she was no weakling and would never band to his wills, he wanted the PR stunt? Fine, she wouldn’t be the fool waiting for him to come home after he spent the day making out with his geriatric director.

As she prophetically old him: in a month, she’ll have moved on.

Harry showed up to pick the rest of his shit as she was getting ready for a night out, he bagged and nearly cried, but she was unmovable.

After she only wanted a strong drink and to forget, and that was the night she met Andrew… properly. They had met before over the years in award shows and mutual friends house parties, but never had been properly introduced. That night they talked… for hours. And by the end of the night Andrew had asked her out. She had wanted to say ‘no’, but something in his honest brown eyes made her give him her number.

Their first date happened in LA, she arrived one and a half hours late, he was patiently—and anxiously—waiting for her in a booth, and when he smiled at her and ignored her tardiness, that’s when she new that he was something special.

He was patient and gentle and kind, and less than a year after their first date they tied the knot in a small ceremony at Islington Town Hall, North London.

She had loved Harry, but Andrew had been game-changer.

He made an afford. He made time. He went out of his way to visit her on set in Australia and pretended that it was nothing ‘I’ve been wanting to try the waves around here’ he told her with a smile as he delivered a bouquet of sunflowers and her favorite chocolates that were found only in a particular little store in LA.

She proposed to him the same night Harry had drunken called her, and she realized that all the butterflies she had once felt hearing his voice were now death, but Andrew? His gentle soft gaze and raspy sleepy voice was able to wake a whole zoo in her stomach. She proposed in bed, no ring, nothing, they’re half sleeping, and he answer with ‘yes, sure’.

The very next day he gave her the yellow gold with sustainable diamonds engagement ring he had bought weeks before. They spent two months living together in Sydney, before moving in together and New York, before agreeing that London would be the best place to grow a family in the future.

They got married in the Spring in London, only two witnesses and no paparazzi in sight—they had a jewish ceremony two days later—. The newly wedded A-list couple shocked the world, no one knew they are a couple to begin with.

Fans shipped them. Haters criticized the fifteen years age gap. Media emphasized how odd a couple they made: Glam Hollywood Siren, Y/n Y/l/n and dorky, adorable, Andrew Garfield.

Harry called again after finding out, he was clearly drunk and probably on something else, ‘You’re really that delusional that you thought that I would wait around for you?’she had stated with refinements of cruelty when he finished his rambling. He asked her if she had married ‘that guy’—Andrew was always that guy to Harry— to spite him, to which she honestly told him ‘My directional debut was to spite you. You’re the last thing on my mind when I married Andrew, you killed the butterflies, and he woke the zoo…Andrew is in his own category, his own brand of masculinity, he’s far too amazing to be compared, and I love him, I love him, and he loves me back, he puts me first, he takes me into consideration in his decisions, he never hurt me, and I never doubt him.’

You were a hurricane, but he’s the safe harbor during a storm I always craved for. She never tells him.

That was the last time they talked, and it has been almost two and a half years since she last saw him.

“You’re the most gorgeous women in this event, and I am the luckiest men.”Andrew said in her ear, making her blush and smile.

“No need to sweet talk me, luv, we’re married already, and I am carrying your glorious spawn.” She joked, making him throw his head back and laugh.

She smiled bigger and turned her head to look at him. She was truly a lucky woman.

Y/n turned her head after hearing the screams in the red carpet.

Her smile falter a little, their eyes met for a second—of course he would be here, he was nominated to seven awards—, for a moment she can swear she sees sadness and regret in his green eyes as he takes her in. She smiles brighter—a fake smile, but no one apart from the two men in the red carpet knows— and greets him from a distance, like they were never more than old acquaintances, like they never were engaged, like they never loved each other.

He made his choice. She made hers.

Life moves on.

She left him in her past. Harry Styles was a sentence in the book of her life.

Andrew is her present and her future.

Harry was jus the guy that wrote songs about her but were never man enough to go against his management and claim her public.

She looks ahead as Andrew and her are guided through the carpet by a assistent.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield imagine

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jksprincess10 · 8 months

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Exile 7.Y la luz de la luna en el mar

After Steve Murphy's unforgivable death in the never-ending fight against Pablo Escobar, Javier Peña finds himself stuck with a new partner. A girl that they brought from Miami. Smart, devastating, strong. Nothing he would have thought her to be. Their rivalry builds up to something intense, destructive. CW: canon violence, mentions of death, smoking and drinking, language, bullshitting my way through the Narcos plot, no y/n (3rd person), no physical and racial descriptions of the girl, eventual smut. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A BRIEF SCENE OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, DEALS WITH A HOSTAGE SITUATION AND TRAUMA.

Divider by @cafekitsune Masterlist for exile Notification blog

When she wakes up, she’s lost. She’s not home, even though she’s still wearing her pajamas. When she tries to move her limbs, she realizes that she’s stuck, her hands tied behind her back, and her feet tied to a chair. She tries to scream, but she’s gagged. There’s a left-over odor, a chemical-like smell. Probably chloroform.

How long was she out?

A shadow appears in front of her. Tall, fat, smoking a joint. She’s seen pictures of him in the newspaper and at the office. But seeing him here, in the flesh, paralyzes her.

She’s nowhere to be found. As soon as Javier called, DEA filled her small apartment. He knew who was behind this of course, they all knew. But where was she taken? He didn’t want another Steve Murphy incident. They had to act and quickly.

Everyone tries to reassure him while he’s chain-smoking and pacing his office.

“They won’t kill her, she’s too valuable.”

“But what if they do? We can’t fucking wait.”

“Relax, Peña. We’re trying to get a radio signal. And we’ll search the whole town if needed.”

“I can’t fucking relax.” He slams his hand on his desk.

Escobar assures her that he won’t hurt him, but she’s not sure if she can believe him. He just wants to know who killed Gustavo. But she won’t talk. She doesn’t really know what else to do than stay silent.

Escobar will be patient. For now.

He knows she’ll break at some point.

They always do.

She overhears him leaving later. But she knows she’s not alone. She can hear more of his men, drinking and speaking loudly. She doesn’t try to undo her ties.

It takes too fucking long. It’s probably already too late when they’re flying high in the sky, men on all sides checking for the kidnappers’ all too familiar voices. They fly over the unknowing city for hours, but nothing.

Of course, they wouldn’t be dumb enough to keep her in the city.

Even though every minute counts, the men are tired. They’ll try again tomorrow.

Even though Peña is home, he can’t find sleep. It’s not even in his grasp’s reach. Sleep and happiness seem so far now.

He drinks and drinks until he passes out half-hasardly on his couch. His night of sleep is short and restless, filled with nightmares. He’s the first one to arrive at work and when people start flooding in, his body is hunched over a map, his fingers tracing long lines along the outskirts of the city.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when they wake her up again. She doesn’t know the two men in front of her.

“Vamos a lavarte, puta. (Let’s get you washed, whore).”

“¿Por qué? (Why?)” She asks in a rough voice. She hadn’t used it in so long, refusing to talk. But now, she was scared enough to talk.

“Querremos que estés limpio cuando nos divirtamos un poco contigo. (We'll want you to be clean when we have a little fun with you.)”

They undo her ties and grab her roughly to lift her to her feet. She feels weak. She hasn’t eaten or drank water since they captured her. So, she doesn’t fight. For now.

When they bring her to a corner with a bucket of water and a small towel, she can see the faint light of the moon coming through the wood panels. It looks like she’s in a… barn. She’s far from the city, for sure. No one would come for her.

One of the men pulls his gun out and presses it against her lower back to encourage her silently. She complies and undresses. She washes her body, although she doesn’t feel clean when she’s done. She doesn’t feel clean with the way they look at her.

She hears the familiar clicking sound of a belt being undone. They converse amongst themselves, she hears snippets of it here and there, the fact that Escobar wouldn’t approve, the fact that they don’t care, and he won’t be here in a while. She begins dissociating, her mind leaving the envelope of her body.

“De rodillas, puta. (On your knees, whore).”

Sadly, she obliges. But she has a plan.

When he begins stuffing her mouth with his dick, she bites down. Hard. She begins to feel the coppery taste of blood fill her mouth. The man screams. And through the blood, she smiles and spits out his flesh.

They think they found where they’re hiding her. There have been sightings of cars coming here, even though it was seemingly abandoned. There’s nothing, except fields and a single barn, standing in the middle of nowhere.

Javier is the first to come out of the vehicle, gun pointed towards a blurry shape running in their direction. She’s completely naked, a wild witch under the pale moonlight. He lowers his firearm when he recognizes her, once again powerless and feeling like he had failed his partner.

Two men are following suit behind her, one with a bloodied crotch. Understanding what had gone down, Javier sees red. How fucking dare they.

He goes past her and he’s shouting obscenities that she barely understands. She falls in the field, and everything is so cold and everything is so dark.

She vaguely hears two gunshots. She vaguely feels the warmth of a coat being wrapped around her. Her vision is blurry when she sees more cars coming. She passes out under the strong lights.

He is here. And he will pay for it. Pablo Escobar is so close, Javier smells the weed on his breath. The drug lord barely glances at his dead men, then looks at Javier.

“Me dirás quién mató a Gustavo y podrás recuperarla. (You will tell me who killed Gustavo and you can have her back.)”

The name falls out of his mouth before he can stop it. But he would let everyone die if it meant he could keep her.

Escobar nods once, twice towards the woman in the field. Javier puts his firearm in the back of his jeans, not without the promise of using it on the man another day. His strong arms lift her like she’s as light as a feather, and he jumps in the back of a car with her. Her head lays on his lap, lifelessness still filling her. He wishes he could put more clothes on her. He wishes she wouldn’t be so cold.

She’s blinded by the bright neon lights of the hospital room when she finally wakes up. Everything is so white that for a second, she thinks that she’s in heaven. There’s commotion around her, a tornado of fast-speaking, fast-acting nurses. She vaguely hears machines going crazy and when she tries to get up, she gets scolded by an older nurse. Her body is plugged, she’s aware that she’s being fed through some tubes. But she feels so lightheaded. So, she stays put, lets her vision adjust itself. When she looks around, she realizes that the room isn’t only full of strangers, but her well-known partner is sat in the room in an uncomfortable chair, where the leather had worn off after being sat on for so long.

When he sees her move finally, he gets up abruptly, his dark, watery eyes upon her. She wants to think of something snarky to say, but she’s quiet, for once. Too quiet, maybe.

“What happened?” She finally asks.

“We found you in the outskirts of town… You were naked, your mouth was full of blood…”

As he speaks, it’s like she’s watching a movie, it’s like an out of body experience. She sees herself running, she can still taste the coppery taste of blood on her tongue.

“They’re dead.” He says, when he sees the fear in her eyes. “Well, except Escobar. Had to make a deal with him to have you back.”

“You should’ve let me die.” She spits. “I didn’t need saving.”

She wants to get up and leave, but her body protests. His gaze darkens as he imagines her tomb next to Murphy’s.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous and ungrateful.”

“You can leave, Agent Peña. I’ll take a taxi home.”

Even though he’s hurt, he agrees. “Brought you a change of clothes. I’ll see you around.”

She doesn’t even respond. And he’s gone.

She scrubs her tongue until it’s raw. She brushes her teeth until they bleed. She cleans herself until her flesh is red. Still, the feeling of being dirty doesn’t pass. Her brain is stuck on the what ifs.

What if she didn’t defend herself

What if she wasn’t fast enough

What if Javi wasn’t there

What if

There’s a shy knock on the door. And she sighs knowingly. She knows who’s waiting for her on the other side. Still, she grabs her gun just in case. When she opens the door, there’s a sorry-looking Javier on the other side. He looks just as tired as her.

He puts his hands up to show that he’s not a threat and she lowers her gun.

“Can I come in?”

She doesn’t say no, but she doesn’t stop him when he comes in. She leaves her gun on the coffee table and she sits down. She feels so empty.

“I’m… sorry.” He says, staying in front of her. “For everything.”

And then, she breaks apart. And he holds her on the couch, soothing her with his hands and his steady breath.

#exile #javier pena #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fanfiction

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

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Love Song for a Vampire Pt.9

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Embry Call x Reader

Warnings: major car accident

Words: 1874

Summary: Bella comes to a decision that tears her up but must be done.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

You slipped out of your house quietly as to not disrupt your sleeping parents.

Just a few days before Victoria’s army was expected to arrive and you couldn’t sleep. Nerves were bundled inside of you as you worried about the oncoming violence that would surely ensue.

Not scheduled for patrol that night, you knew another that was off-duty as well.

The Call residence was further into the hills, a little out of the way from the other houses of La Push. It was just Embry and his mom that lived there and his mom was already fairly familiar with you and the other boys coming around late at night. All she asked was that you guys be quiet if she was sleeping. Their mobile home wasn’t a large one and noise carried easily to her room.

Embry had sensed you coming before you tapped on his window. He lifts his window open and sticks his head out. “You know, people might assume you coming to my house late at night as a booty call.”

You flick his nose with a laugh. “Don’t be gross. I can’t sleep.”

Crossing his arms on the windowsill, Embry rests his chin atop of his forearms. “Worried?”

That was an understatement that made you snort. “Always. And it always seems to be centered around vampires.”

“Gotta be grateful to them though. If they hadn’t showed up none of us could be able to shapeshift into wolves. Which, ya know besides the whole imprinting thing, is awesome!”

Agreeing with that, you turn your attention to the night sky above. Being able to turn into a giant wolf was liberating. Feeling whole in your fur and one with your pack. Many thought the pack mentality to be bothersome, but it reassured you that you were never alone.

“I’m sorry.” whispers Embry. “I know it must be hard for you to be tied to Edward.”

You had nearly gotten yourself killed to try and break free of your destined mate. Consequently you had almost gotten Sam killed too. Reality was difficult, there was nothing you could do. “I just hope I don’t become like those wolves who had unrequited imprintations.”

His voice becomes hard. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. It won’t happen. One of these days Edward will come to his senses and realize how amazing you are. He’ll love you.” Embry had his face buried in his arms but the tips of his ears were vibrant red.

Even though you doubted it, you smiled at the conviction in Embry’s speech. If Edward was willing to go to war for Bella, you doubted he would ever be with you.

Gently revealing his face, dark eyes gaze at you in a way that made your tummy tickle. If only fate had been kinder.

“And one day I bet you’ll imprint on someone who can return your feelings. Of course she’ll love you.”

It happened so naturally and without a skip in your breathing as the two of you lean in for a chaste kiss. Your first kiss at that. Not a long kiss, you pull away from one another. Down inside you were disappointed. As nice as it was, you didn’t feel any fireworks or the world shifting. Not like when you first saw Edward.

“Nothing, huh?” he sadly asks you after seeing the crestfallen expression on your face.

Your fingers slide down the chipped paint on the side of the mobile home. “Not exactly nothing. . . But. . .”

Shaking his head, Embry lets out a disappointed sigh. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I understand.” There’s evident hurt on his face but you knew there was nothing to do about it. He knew that Edward would always be your intended. One kiss wouldn’t be able to change that.

Quiet goodnights were exchanged, reassuring that there were no hard feelings. It was just one of those things. Something you had to do at least once to get it out of your system.

Above your head, accompanying you back home, was the sliver of a moon. Apathetic in it’s dark blanket but watching over you.

Why Edward?

And then there was Edward and (y/n) concerning her too. Edward had lied to her when he said that there were no feelings for (y/n). What else was he lying about. Their relationship was in limbo, uncertain and rickety as Bella tries to ground herself. Edward still wanted to be with her, right? After all they had been through together surely the presence of (y/n) wouldn’t do much harm to them. Maybe if (y/n) had been a normal, human girl. She wasn’t though, she was already a full member of Edward’s world,; filled with vampires and other matters of supernatural beings. Jacob had told Bella awhile ago that imprinting was the strongest force in the universe.

Everything about the arrangement was destined not to be. A vampire and a wolf. That already spelled disaster. You decided whoever controlled fate was a moron. A happy ending could never be in your future.

The Cullen house was on edge; waiting and holding onto their bundle of nerves that not even Jasper could get rid of. Graduation was supposed to have been a momentous occasion for Bella. With Victoria looming over her head it was hard to enjoy any of it. According to Alice, the battle was mere days away. How could she find any joy in her human life when people she cared about would potentially be hurt.

Bella frets, chewing at her thumbnail while Edward was perched at his large bay window to the darkness outside. Lacking true dark of night, there hung the moon giving off a comforting glow. Eyes of gold are fixated on it and Bella wishes she could hear what Edward was thinking about. There was plenty to choose from but self conscious Bella picked (y/n) as the subject of his thoughts. Edward and (y/n) hadn't even spoken much and yet they were destined to be soulmates. During training, Bella hadn’t a clue which wolf she was until Jasper called her up. Her wolf didn’t indicate anything feminine, she was almost larger than Jacob and had a fierce black muzzle. When she had attacked Edward, Bella assumed the worst. That jealousy induced by imprinting had gotten to (y/n) causing her to attack Edward. Thankfully it wasn’t so. Her lunge hadn’t been out of violence. Nevertheless it was terrifying and somehow beautiful. (y/n) moved with intention and grace where Edward struggled to keep up with her. If she wanted to, (y/n) could have ended him. Ended Bella so she could have her destined mate. Before the wolf pack had left to return to La Push, Bella caught the two flames that were (y/n)’s wolf eyes. There wasn’t any hate or resentment. Bella felt sadness and guilt emanate from her. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want Edward but because of what she was, (y/n) was automatically linked to him now.

Bella truly felt sympathy for the wolf girl. (y/n) hated this as much as Bella. What a tragic tale that was being weaved right before their eyes. Like one of the stories Bella loved to read. Only this was her life falling apart.

“You don’t love her, right?” Her voice didn’t belong to her. She hadn’t meant to ask that nagging question out loud.

Even as he went to sit next to her and cover her hand with his own, Bella noticed uncertainty on his beautiful marble face. “I love you.”

Slipping her hands away from him, Bella frowns. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Hurt reflecting, he shakes his head and looks down at his floorboards. “No, I don’t love her.”

There was something though. Something that he felt for (y/n). It was in the tone of his voice. Jaw quivering as the core of her heart was being scooped out, Bella can’t bear to look at him anymore. Clenching her teeth together to suppress everything, Edward moves himself an inch away from her. He could sense that she didn’t want to be touched by him right now.

“Bella. . . I swear, I don’t love her..”

“But you feel something for her. On a primitive level because she imprinted on you. Where does that leave me Edward? Don’t even try to deny it. Something is growing, whether we like it or not.”

Running his tongue over his bottom lip, Edward wants to talk about anything else besides this subject. “Look, let's talk about this after we settle things with Victoria.”

It was logical, but Bella didn’t want to be logical. This betrayal of affection hurt. It wasn’t fair. They hardly knew each other. Only spoken a handful of times. “I think we should take a break.”

Immediately Edward’s face crumbles. “Bella-”

She shakes her head, cutting him off quickly. “No, you’re right. Our relationship can wait until Victoria and her army are dealt with. That should be our priority. After, we can re-evaluate ourselves. This isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m not blaming you or (y/n).” Tears started to form making Bella swiftly brush them away before they fell. Back onto her feet, Bella retrieves her phone and keys from Edward’s dresser. She glances at the ring on her left hand. Encircling her slim finger was the ring that once belonged to Edward’s mother. For an engagement ring it was rather big, but the sentiment behind it had sent Bella over the moon. Now it only filled her with sadness. Hesitantly she slips it off and places it where her phone had once sat; internally promising the diamond ring that she would one day wear it again.

Convinced with her decision, she chanced a glance at a heartbroken Edward who could only give her a pleading expression of ‘don’t go’. If vampires had been able to cry, surely there would be tears running down his face at that moment.

It took all of her strength to leave the Cullen house and head to her dilapidated truck. Inside, Bella presses her forehead against the steering wheel and sobs. Fingers fumble to start her truck as she collects herself. If Charlie knew she had been driving while emotional, he would give her his attempt at a parental talking-to about the dangers of driving. The heel of her palm is used to dry her eyes as Bella begins the drive back home.

Almost seeing sight of her father’s house, it felt like a wrecking ball slammed into the driver side of her truck. Completely blind-sided, Bella sees stars explode in her vision. Her seatbelt prevented her from rolling around as her truck tumbled off the road. The side of her head smacked into the side window which had already shattered in a few places from the initial impact.

And then it stilled. Everything was eerily quiet as Bella winced in pain, trying to unbuckle herself. Her head was foggy though and her body sluggish. The driver-side door is promptly ripped open and tossed to the side. Already struggling to stay conscious, she squints into the dark; met back with vivid red eyes. Features blurred, but Bella knew from the eyes that this person was a vampire.

A male voice purrs “You must be Bella.”

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TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch , @dangerouslittlefairy , @burn-crash-rqmance , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite , @xanniestired666

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen fanfiction #reader insert fanfiction #twilight saga #twilight #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction

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seeker-of-truth · 8 months

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Manuscript Word Search Tag

ahhh this is so exciting, I've never done these before and now I have multiple tags? Dying, so thank you so much for the tags!!!! I'm including links to there posts too so you can read their stuff too :)

I'm going to cheat a little bit by extending this to the entirety of Hard To Kill but 99% is going to be from I, Pre Defined.

@ghostoffuturespast gave me blossom, scent, rust, dream, & rain. - their post here

blossom (using bloom (they're basically the same right?))

“So, 3 months. That work for you Johnny?” Johnny looked at the desperation in her face for a second and let out a strained laugh, “Stubborn ass merc. Yeah, if that’s what gets you back to your body, sounds preem.” V could tell that Johnny didn’t believe that he could be brought back, but she didn’t care. She’d just have to prove him wrong again. Letting out a shaky breath she looks up at Alt, “Alright, let’s go then.” V stands, anxiety blooming across her chest, she pushes down the choking sensation that threatens to overwhelm her. Johnny’s cybernetic arm sitting at the small of her back, thumb rubbing circles, guiding her to the well. Once there V sits at the edge, she places a hand on her chest, taking a few deep breaths, trying to maintain some level of composure. Johnny sits at the corner of the well, foot planted on the ledge, arm draped over his knee. “S’alright princess, it’ll be okay, you got this.” The affection in his voice alone threatens to break V completely. I, Pre Defined Chapter 1 - Fear of Dying

scent

Verena smiles and follows Sara into the house. Passing through the doorway she is hit by the smell of stale beer and mildew. It’s strange but the scent is always a comfort to her. Probably from the association from playing shows or nostalgia from sneaking into shitty little bars and clubs when she was in high school. Reaching the second floor they find a corner to settle in and start working on their beers. The night goes on and 1 beer becomes 2 and 2 becomes 3 becomes 4. They play dumb drinking games with everyone well into the night. Their laughter coloring the air peach, glints in their eyes. As night shifted into morning, they found themselves pulling away from everyone else. Sitting in the attic, a comfortable silence falls around them as the sunlight begins transforming the night sky to a gentle deep blue with orange steaks just beginning to enter. La Belle Femme

rust

no rust 'round these parts :(

dream

The first week at the Pistis Sophia passes by slowly. Instead of working on a plan, V spends her days laying on the mattress watching the fan spin lazily. Getting up only to take her meds and smoke. The beauties ran out quickly and she was left tossing and turning every night after, her thoughts keeping her awake just as much as her physical discomfort. The nagging feeling that she left Johnny to rot in a digital purgatory gnawing at her chest during every waking minute. When she did get sleep her dreams were a tangled mess of what was left of Johnny’s memories and her own. Sometimes she would see him reaching down for her from an escaping helicopter. Other times her broken body would be tied to a chair in the slums of Rio, Johnny standing over her, barrel of his gun at her forehead, blank expression on his face. But worst of all, sometimes she would be trapped in an endless void, screaming into it, never getting a response. She would always wake up out of breath with her heart in her throat. The only thing that could calm her was going up to the rooftop to smoke and gaze at the lights emanating from the city. I, Pre Defined Chapter 3 - Money on Dust

rain

V quietly curses to herself before slowly getting back to her feet. Autopilot takes over and she walks into the armory grabbing a duffle bag from the floor and packing it with extra ammo. Walking up to the loft she grabs enough of her stuff to last a couple days. Feeling numb she descends into the elevator and rides through the city not thinking about where she’ll end up, letting the downpour soak her to the bone. After driving for a while, she finds herself parked in front of Kerry’s villa, she lets out a snort as she pulls up the driveway. Of course she ends up here again. Dismounting her bike and walking up to the door she realizes she has tears streaming down her face along with the rain and is attempting to wipe them off when a disgruntled Kerry answers the door. “Fucking hell. So what? You just show up here, lookin’ like a wet dog when you’re feeling like shit? Come in,” Kerry says, waving her in. I, Pre Defined Chapter 5 - En Soledad (not yet released)

@peaches-n-screem gave me ride, miss, cold, bright, & calm - their post here

ride

V spends the next couple days flighting around the penthouse, keeping herself occupied with busy work. Disassembling and cleaning her guns – twice, moving her shit out of boxes, ordering new pants. Doing everything she can to avoid the constant itch for a chemical release and to keep crushing dread from overwhelming her. While organizing the armory for the third time that day V’s hand brushes against the shotgun she had been avoiding just as much as her holo. She knew she should call Judy, but she just - wasn’t ready. What was she supposed to say, ‘Hey Jude, you know that crazy shit your output just pulled to maybe save her life? Yeah, didn’t work. She’s also grieving a man who died 50 years ago and was killing her. Oh and all that grief – pointless, she can get him back.’ The thought alone was exhausting to say the least, but she was tired of being alone. V wanted to be around someone, someone who had known Johnny, who she could talk about him with. Rouge was out of the question; she would just ride her ass about not calling Mr. Blue Eyes. But Kerry, Kerry’s the perfect option. Knew Johnny better than most, knows what it’s like to lose him. I, Pre Defined Chapter 4 - Continental Shelf

miss

Walking down into the kitchen she turns on the coffee maker, making a cup of coffee for both her and Judy. By the time she’s pouring synthmilk in both mugs Judy is walking down the stairs, sleep still present on her face. She yawns before planting a kiss on V’s cheek, “G’morning baby, you’re up early.” “mornin’ – yeah, stress I guess,” V says handing Judy a cup of coffee while taking a sip out of her own, “usually I’m not too worried before meeting a client. But this all reeks.” “Worse than meeting with Evie?” V grimaces, “leagues worse.” Judy weighs V’s words, taking a cautious sip of the hot coffee, “Well in that case you best head out.” “Yeah, your right, I’ll see you later okay?” V says, giving Judy a kiss before grabbing her edgerunner and heading to the door. “Missin’ you already,” Judy says with a smile as V leaves. I, Pre Defined Chapter 4 - Continental Shelf

cold

Rogue crouches down to get a better look at the merc, “Shit V, you’re in awful shape. What happened?” concern clear in her voice. V stammered, desperately trying to sting together a coherent thought now that the immediate need to get to safety was no longer keeping her alert. “I…I had to leave Johnny behind, Rogue. And for what? ‘m still dyin’ anyway…” the truth spilling out of her mouth. “What are you talking about V? c’mon look at me,” Rogues voice now coming through a haze, V struggled to focus on her, but the cold rushing through her was becoming overwhelming. “Fuck you’re going into shock. C’mon V, stay with me here,” Rogue says grabbing V’s face in both her hands. “I’m gonna jetwash you, OK kid?” “mhhmm,” V’s head now leaning against the wall of the bomber, eyes half lidded. Rogue beings removing V’s edgerunner so that she’s left in her tank top. Picking up V’s arm and placing the AirHypo to her side, Rogue taps the button, injecting the medication. Instantly a feeling of warmth washed over V, the world in front of her resharpening to something recognizable. Looking at Rogue she’s greeted with worry written on the fixer’s face. “You good now?” “Uh, yeah, thanks. You got a smoke?” V says palming at her pants pockets. Handing V a small cigarette case with a chuckle, “That bastard give you any good habits?” She passes the case back, raising her eyebrows up at Rogue. V lights the cigarette, taking a long drag, enjoying the feeling of nicotine entering her body. I, Pre Defined Chapter 2 - Afterglow

bright

When she had called him ‘the guy who saved my life,’ she had meant it much more metaphorically than he had taken it. She remembers him responding, ‘you have no idea how badly I want that to be true,’ not realizing that it was already true. Working under Arasaka’s thumb for all those years had taken its toll, she still fought ruthlessly, that was engrained in her like any ‘Saka operative, past, or current. But she was an echo of the bright-eyed kid who wanted to do good by her people and would fight anyone who got in her way. Johnny brought that back out of her, brought out the ability to feel true joy again, to fall in love, to live. Jackie had planted the seeds of that flower, but it was Johnny who nurtured it. He did it not by teaching, or even the data overwrite, but by creating the room for her to do it herself. I, Pre Defined Chapter 3 - Money on Dust

calm

And that's it, thanks for reading!

Tagging in no particular order and with no pressure: @elvenbeard @fly-amanitaa @wanderingaldecaldo @luvwich and tagging back both @ghostoffuturespast & @peaches-n-screem :)

Your words, should you choose to accept, are: whisper, light, tendril, slam, & haze.

#this was really fun! thanks for the tags guys :)#seeker writes #fic: i pre defined #tag game

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skinnybrits · 6 months

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In honor of evermore season, I’ve had it on repeat and the thought struck me…

I think ‘tis the damn season night be from dorothea’s perspective before she “made it” in LA.

Later, dorothea is on “tiny screens” busy “selling makeup & magazines.” But while she only has “so-called/shiny friends” in the big city, the people who really care about her—who “know which smiles she’s faking” and who she’ll “always know”—are in Tupelo.

#evermore #Taylor Swift #‘tis the damn season #tis the damn season #dorothea #taylor swift evermore #lyrics #lyrical analysis

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walker33961 · 6 months

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2 ‘N HALF YEAR LATER………

- There was no intel of Makarov.. he was more strong.. .

He was causing blasts everywhere and all they were trying to save the civilians .. some were detonated and some where already causing a bloodsea…

But they couldn’t find the hubs , safehouses of his and himself for years …

*Price slams hand in the table*

“ He’s getting out of hand “ *Price*

“ We have to be with the shadows ..again” *Ghost says with a concerned tone *

“ They were nice to us…after all that Gold fucking eagle actual ain’t breathing anymore…” *Laswell with her serious tone *

* Nikolai looks at price *

“ He mocked Soap’s death ! and because of him he is KIA ..expected me to forgive that bastard heh?!” * Price angry remembering the moments*

“ If we gotta find intel ..we will need Graves for it “ *Gaz speaks up *

“ I’m here boys “ *Phillip arriving from his helicopter to them , wearing his formals and tactical gear *

“ Speak of the devil “ * Nikolai mocks lightly *

“ Look I’m not into his cage anymore .. I’ll do what I always did …serving my people …and um..

* silent for few seconds *

“ Sorry about Soap .. He did everything to stop that Fucker”

“ *sigh* What’s that bastard into again!?! “

- Laswell explained the situation and All of them thought of a plan ..while explaining the plan on board Laswell got a mail from an unknown ID …

It was the exact location where Makarov’s second in command might be present ….

A line attached to the end of the intel

“ Find Vladimir, keep him alive …till his death comes to him “

* Laswell reading out and everyone trying to guess who could it be *

“ Is it Yuri ?! “

“ He sends me intel directly by comms “

“Did lavender…?!”

*Lav enters *

“ She’s right here “

“What happened Dad ?”

*Price explains the details and about the unknown person *

“ Farah is on her other mission & Alex is with her then it’s a no “ *Lavender*

*a message pops up in Laswell’s phone *

“ Go in disguise as workers ..it’s still under construction “

“ Everything got fixed after Cap’n killed shepherd…except my happy ending “ *Lav speaking with her broken heart “

*Graves gave her a hug *

“ I couldn’t say sorry to him for Las Almas … but I’m saying to you ..both are …..same things “

*Lav hugs him back *

“ Let’s work together …for his justice and all innocents “

*releases the hug , fistbumps Graves *

“ The sender is sure about it … “ * Nikolai *

“ I’m not sending my kids there “ * price *

“ Capt’n..we got this ….” * Ghost speaks up*

“ Hell of a way Dad ..let us do it “ *Lavender speaks with her strong vocals *

“ What’s the location ? “ *Gaz asks *

“ The intel has been forwarded to your Tabs Gaz ,,Bird up in 12 “

*Price ending the brief *

- Lavender tells ghost that she’ll be back ..went to the green grassy field behind the building ..laying down on the grass and looking up at the sky ..missing her Jhonny ….Tears slipping through her brown eyes ….Ghost came out just to check over and found her like this ….

“ Lavie …. I know time is being rough with us but when we get Makarov …I will make sure to put up a hole in his head for killing Jhonny “

*Ghost grabbing her hand and pulling up so she gets up *

“Let mother nature shed tears with me and comfort me along with it Brother…I’ll be there in time “ *Not looking into Simon’s eyes *

*Simon sat down and refuses to leave without her *

*Lav starts crying loudly after few seconds *

*Ghost pulls her into a hug right away,few tears slipping through his eyes*

“ I also miss him Lavie “

- After their time to cope up with the flashbacks they joined with others and got the coordinates in their device

Went to the location in disguise as suggested but the unknown Id . Gaz was wearing a worker cap , Ghost wearing the fits with a normal mask to hide his face and a helmet , Lav tied her hair into a messy bun also wearing a mask like her brother …..

The intel was strong and true … It was one of Makarov’s safehouse …

“ Damn right that girl or guy is ….” * Lavender smirks*

“ Let’s go .. move carefully so our disguise stays” *Gaz suggesting *

“ Lav , you go at the top of the building… Gaz ..come with me “

*Ghost moving out ..all of them turned their earphones and comms on*

“ Stay safe Lavie… I don’t want to loose more “ *Ghost says with a worried yet cared, emotional tone*

“ Rog brother LT “ * yn moves out and reached at the top of the building *

“ Hey you !! , stop “ *Nolan with strong English-Russian accent *

“ Did I do something wrong Sir “ *Lav trying to play it smooth*

“Oh shit …..” *Gaz got shocked *

“ Your too pretty to be hear “ * Nolan comes closer to her*

“ Respectfully sir ..I’m married and thank you for your compliment..Excuse me “ *Lav pushes him lightly and leaves the spot *

“ I settled a tracker in Nolan’s vest “ * Lavender in comms*

“ And you said you’re married “ *Gaz speaking *

“ Always called me his Mrs.MacTavish and I’m doing the job as I should be … in his absence everything’s over me …no lies innit..

“ Go to his location, I’ll cover you guys if they catches ..Lav go left and Gaz ..with me “ *Ghost*

*Listenig heavy footsteps*

“They’re here …. *Gaz announces *

- Lav waited for a while and shot one of the member and this is how a heavy firing started …. Gaz got Nolan and Ghost covered them …

Nikolai arrives to take them and told them to tie themselves with the thrown rope so it pulls them up … Gaz himself & wraps Nolan with the rope along with Ghost and Lavender securely.. Nik flew and it pulled them up ….

Happy Ending 💙

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annieginny · 2 years

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i definitely see why people think her yellow diamond ring is sus but i really don't think it's her engagement ring. i cannot see him getting her engagement ring from a brand she has a partnership with and honestly i think that ring is not expensive enough to be the ring he bought her lol. i think they are heading towards an engagement though, if i had to guess i'm gonna say end of next year after she wraps euphoria (hopefully for good) and won't be tied to la for 9 months of the year

… she’ll (hopefully) still be working after Euphoria. She’s not going to retire at 26. Ordinary people manage to hold down jobs and get engaged, married, etc. This idea that Zendaya (and why is it always her) needs to be semi retired to get married/have a family is a bit… insidious.

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 2 years

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For the whole history of AMARA AQUILLA, please click here.

← ONCE THERE WAS AN IDEA TO BRING TOGETHER →

As a full time resident of Krakoa, Amara lives on the Island and serves as a back-up member of the New Mutants. Her current responsibilities have been lighter than they have in the past, but that’s fine by her. After all the drama surrounding Nova Roma and its questionable origins, she just wants to take time to focus on herself and figure out where she fits in the new mutant scheme of things. It’s not much, but it’s exactly what she needs right now.

← A GROUP OF REMARKABLE PEOPLE TO SEE IF THEY →

✗ SELENE GALLIO (616) has had a complicated relationship with Amara. Selene’s been tied up in Nova Roma from the very beginning, and Selene even went as far as to say that she was Amara’s ancestor once. The two won’t come to blows if they see one another, but Amara doesn’t like her. Selene doesn’t belong on Krakoa. Not after everything she’s done.

✗ MANUEL DE LA ROCHA (616) and Amara have gone from friends to lovers over the years. They’re not together currently, but Amara will always hold affection for Manuel. Some people think he’s a little psychotic -- especially after his stint with the Hellions -- but he’s more than that. He just needs to get out of his own way and get over himself.

← COULD BECOME SOMETHING MORE →

✗ THE NEW MUTANTS → Although a long term member of the New Mutants, Amara has recently stepped away from main duties to serve on their back-up roster. She doesn’t deal with training young mutants, but will still go on assignment from time to time when need be in addition to helping the Secret X-Men. The team is family. They’ve been there through the ups and downs, and Amara doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to fully sever ties with them.

✗ OTHER AFFILIATIONS -- secret x-men. krakoa.

← & IF WE CAN’T SAVE THE WORLD, WE’LL AVENGE IT →

✗ AGE → 20′s ✗ MULTIVERSE ORIGIN → 616 ✗ SPECIES → mutant ✗ ETHNICITY → up to player ✗ SECRET IDENTITY → public ✗ RELATIONSHIP STATUS → open ✗ FACECLAIM → lucy boynton ✗ AVAILABILITY → open

← FUN FACTS →

needs glasses

powers are tied to emotions

also known as alison crestmere

#amara aquilla #new mutants #earth616 #krakoa #open #open female

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lottttie-xxx · 2 years

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CHARLOTTE “LOTTIE” LA BOUFF || 34 || HEIRESS || ECHO CREEK

Lottie is a princess. Everything she does is well thought out to be as lady like as they come. Unless she doesn't like you, or is felt threatened. Which isn't too often, she does her best to see the best in people. So if you're on her bad side, you should look very deep in the mirror. It's always pink, glitters, and sunshine for her. And she does her best to bring the joy money has brought her to others. She's very humbled, and has a good head on her shoulders with lots of love to give.

Headcannons:

After her mothers passing, her father would tell her every night the first star she saw was her mama. And as long as she could remember she would make a wish on that star, hoping her mother would guild her to whatever she wanted.

Big Daddy couldn't toss most of her mothers clothing, and while it may not be Lotties style she kept it all. Every piece of her mothers and it makes her feel closer to her. Helps try to piece what she could look like, act like, everything. Given she passed when Lottie was young this is her best bridge to keeping her memory and spirit alive for her.

Her favorite item of her mothers is her perfume.. The day Lottie discovered it, she had Big Daddy order as many as he could so she would always have a stock of it. She sprays her pillows and bed with it mostly, and on big events will wear it out to hold her mother with her, and have her comfort.

Lottie loves her father dearly. That man has had to be both mother and father and while a lot would thought her love was just bought with whatever she wanted. No one saw behind closed doors the special moments she would have with her father. The movie nights. The story times. The gossip she shared as she got older. Big Daddy was more than a bank account and she'll fight for him anyday.

Lottie loves that she went to school for something that ties in with Tiana's mothers work. It makes Lottie feel like her and Tiana are truly sisters, cause that's how it has felt since the tea party days while her mother was making her dresses.

Given she went to school as a fashion designer. Lottie now finds aspiring designers on social media and hires them to make her creations come to life. She has the money, and ideas for dresses she wants to have herself. Why not pay someone, and help financially, to follow their dreams... but also get to wear her visions? It's a win/win for everyone cause Lottie always pushes them to the biggest events.

Falling in love with Adam at first felt like every word she had ever read about fairy tales. He was rich, big ol' estate , everything. Sure his attitude could use some adjusting, but Lottie was good with working with all sorts of people. It shattered her though, and for a little bit she gave up on wishin' on her stars.

It wasn't untill Naveen came around and she saw everything in color again. Lottie's heart melted and nearly everything he said. And now she's back to wishing on the first bright star she sees every night. Even if he is like a mystery with no clues she's trying to solve on the daily.

Lottie doesn't mind one bit speaking her mind to anyone. It's always done with a shot of kindness even in her meanest sentences. Just how her heart and brain work together. Princess manners always.

Saving herself has come with it's up and downs. given her age now tends to make a book of comments, but she's proud of it. And knows in her heart that moment is going to be so magical. She's seen too many people crying over how they wished it was all different, and Lottie isn't handing over that key to just anyone. She'll kiss and make out, but she isn't touching a disco stick, or anything else for that matter till she's found the one worth exploring with.

The girls closet is just en extra room in the house that she has made into a beautiful set up with all her cloths. The closet in her room is only for pj's and lounge wear.

Lottie speaks with lots of weird references and sayings. Those that are close to her can speak her own little language.

When it comes to fashion and dressing the bigger, bolder, and brightest is always the best option. She's here to make a statement - you never know who's around the corner. Mister mans can be anywhere.

Extra: (all IC)

Favorite song? Fabulous - Sharpay Evans Sexuality if not stated in bio? Straight Pronouns? She/Her Big Three (sun, moon, rising signs)? Sun: Cancer, Moon Capricorn, Libra Rising

#HC #about

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hoodoobarbie · 3 years

Text

The mythology of the Siren, Mermaid, Water Spirits & Mami Wata and it’s origins within black feminity.

Today I had to listen to other another black woman rant about how mermaids/sirens/mami wata are evil low key. So this educational post was born in response.

Did you really think the divine essence of the black feminine wouldn’t protect itself ? That energy exists for a reason. Suddenly it’s evil, to have teeth and protect yourself from predators. Water is a precious resource. You will be tested to see if you are deserving of it or not. Also these spirits will defend natural resources so they don’t get fucked up by human greed.

It’s common for some places in Africa for people to offer the Sirens/Mami Wata/Water spirits or make an offerings/contracts with them in order to use the resources on their land. It also keeps the white ppl away too because they cause so much trouble.

Sirens are also associated with being the killers of children and men, but often this is completely misrepresented intentionally.

Men fear the power of the siren because she can override the patriarchy at core and can completely unravel them. The orgins of many water spirits lie in matriachal societies, temples divine feminine and motherhood. This is why temples and sacred magikal knowledge was intentionally destroyed and stolen, especially to empower the white patriarch.

Sirens are also described as thiefs of children and child killers. Sirens have been known to kidnap kids who were being abused or have were murdered near water and take them to their kingdom to restore them.

Sometimes the child returns, sometimes they are not. However in general they are big on kidnapping people, mostly women and giving them powers, if they decide to return. The idea of them eating and killing children, was a lie perpetuated by Greeks to cover up some truly horrific acts. Unfortunate these false accusations have been allowed to continue to perpetuate.

If a siren is acting in a predatory way, there is a reason why as their energy as been disturbed. Sirens are natural guardians.

So the real question is . . . what did you do ? Did you destroy their habitat ? Abuse a child or a person ? Commit an egregious act against a woman ie rape/murder etc ? Disrespect a sacred place, the land, the seas or rivers ? Steal precious resources that weren’t yours to take ?

These sacred traditions are more than just deities, spirits and our ancestors. All forms of ATR are access to our spiritual mind state as an entire community. When you move in Vodou, you can sense the whole of black consciousness and all of our problem spots, specifically areas that need healing.

Oxum-Oshun, Olokun, Yemaya, the Mami Wata, La Baliene, La Siren, Met Agwe, The Simbi - these are all spirits with a connection to waters. Water is life and has always been inherently associated feminine energy. I’m not going into detail about all these cross connections but let’s chat about La Sirene, specifically.

La Sirene, Queen of all Mermaids is more than just a powerful sorceress and queen of song/music and dreams, she is also a keeper of secrets an a guardian of sacred memories & knowledge.

Many of the souls of slaves, from the Transatlantic slave trade that were thrown off the boats into the ocean are her children, citizens and warriors now. She comforts them eternally & they live in paradise. That doesn’t mean all of these souls are at rest, plenty continuously ask their mother if they will be avenged, especially the young children. She also has a close connection with the Indigenous Taino. The isle of Hispaniola also known as Haiti (Ayiti) & the Dominican Republic is her most known domain.

Let’s not act like slavery and colonization was a cake walk. Rape was common place and mermaids, water spirits offered African and Indigenous women protection and power over men. They became demonized overtime for their hypnotic powers and killing men, who often overstepped their boundaries. Women could leave offerings to these spirits, work or commune with them and be quickly avenged or gain great power and wealth. All of this was threatening to the white patriarchal standard.

La Sirene’s presence in Haiti and other merfolk tales that float around the Caribbean/West Indies, is not without purpose. She has ties to many people and many different cultures. Her sacred symbols are global. This is why I speculate she is much older than people think. La Sirene, is a fairly young evolution. She clearly has ties to much older things. Her older names might have been lost but she has evolved, to save her self and also document other forgotten elements of history in the process. There are those who speculate that La Sirene is the embodiment of a cross mixed culture, the evolution of Indigenous & African water spirits combined, due to the excess trauma of colonization and so the Mermaid Queen was born. Others will argue that she is the Orisha Yemaya but a newer avatar of her. I hate to argue semantics but I will say this, she exists and her presence is felt to this day, all around the world.

La Sirene is often depicted as a mulatto woman with eyes like the sea but if you have been blessed to see her in dream state, she does appear sometimes as a brown or dark skinned skinned woman of possibly mixed Indigenous/African ancestry with glowing hypnotic eyes. Alot of her older depictions, deal with colorism and slavery, but as things have grown in the modern world this imagery has begun to change. However mermaids, are known for their shapeshifting powers - to truly behold her true form, is a gift reserved for the rare few.

As a keeper of the mysteries, La Sirene also access to many forgotten things in the black subconscious. The element of water is an intensely psychic sign. Water is her domain, and what is the human body 80% of? WATER! The truth does not hide from her hypnotic eyes. This sacred connection to water and her essence, also means you can track forgotten elements black history and connect to other deities/cultures who’ve had contact with her & her whole court or other black water spirits as a whole. So let’s take a short historical trip down memory lane.

The Greeks & Black women. Sirens, Aphrodite, Sibyls and other Children of Water 🧜🏾‍♀️

The deity Aphrodite/Venus is of Grecian and Roman legend.

A little known magikal fact is that Aphrodite/Venus is half siren. She is a child of the water, she was literally birthed this way after Uranus got his balls cut off & thrown into the sea. Much of her Venusian influence and powers of love and beauty come from this element. Now my Mambo doesn’t like mentioning it but Aphrodite, is tolerated by the oceanic court of sirens/mermaids. Any child of water, falls under the domain of the queen. La Sirene has a sort of strange fondness for her and so does Aphrodite for her. However this doesn’t mean they are best friends. It’s tentative friendship at best and comes with some perks. Aphrodite works quickly for children of water sirens and often will send mermaids to her devotees who misbehave. She has deliberately placed me around her people have pissed her off, to cause mischief. She’s quite petty but also very generous. I won’t go as far to dare and say she is in the queen’s court, but she does curry favor with the queen. Being born of water, her half siren/mermaid influence has definitely attributed to legends of her beauty in myth but also her treachery with men 🧜🏾‍♀️😂. She clearly also has some sort of homesickness for the world underneath the water, because many of her offerings are gifts of pearls, kisses, sea shells, beauty products etc. Anyone who serves the Mermaid Queen knows the meaning behind those gifts. If you’re a black gyal with water or siren energy and decide to work with Aphrodite, do it! If you ever irritate her, the least she’ll do is give you pimples and fuck up your skin, she won’t have the full power to completely fuck up your love life like she does with the white girls. And let me tell you, she has completely ruined some white girls lives by giving them terrible lovers or men.

The trident 🔱 is known for its connection in Greek and Hindu cultures. However La Sirene or other African water spirits are depicted carrying it, which is largely ignored in the occult world.

You can track the trident in Hinduism, with the serpent spirits, the nagas or Lord Shiva but let’s focus on it’s Grecian connection. The usage of the trident and Poseidon, even in mainstream society today is associated with him. This lets us know there is a connection between the mermaids, merfolk and La Sirene/African water spirits. Poseidon’s trident was rumored to made in Athens by the Cyclops - this is the city of Athena. So now we can track an element of black history all the way to Poseidon & Athena. Keep that in your thoughts we’ll come back to that later.

Tridents were also used ceremonially in Africa & India as well, as scepters, tribal weapons and religious symbols.

They were also associated with the sea faring people and fishing. It’s highly likely the origins of the trident are cross mixed between these two societies. Indo-African relations, go back to the Bronze age and the Indus Valley civilization. Which means traveling over by sea to reach each other was necessary. There is historical evidence of African millet being found in a Indian city Chanhudaro, including a cemetary or burial ground for African women. Maritime relations between these two groups existed before Grecian & the Egyptian Ptolemaic dynasties.

Now of course there are some deranged historians that will try to whitewash history and say the trident has its origins from the labyrs but the Ancient Greeks & Africans/Indians interacted regularly. The trident also looks nothing like a labyrs, which is quite literally a double sided axe. This is one of the more painful obvious pieces of white washing and historical revisionism.

Regardless, the trident is associated with water, ceremonial/religious purposes, fishing, battling in the coliseum and the symbol of power for a few African, Black diasporian an Hindu deities.

🧜🏾‍♀️ Oracles & Sibyls

Some sibyls/oracles were known to be African prophetesses/Mamissi to the Mami Wata/Sirens in Africa, some were stolen or captured by Greeks or Romans, sold into slavery and made to be oracles, some of whom became quite famous in legend. Their connection to these water spirits, is what gave them their gift of prophecy. Not every sibyl or oracle was African but SOME were. This lead to the sharing and theft of sacred knowledge. It’s likely these women shared this sacred information, with their colleagues, some whom may or may not have been enslaved or kept in these temple and likely this information was traded, for their freedom, power or money etc. This gave way to the usage of sacred spirits and magick being used by men. A great example of this is the snake spirits of the genii, genius spirits (not to be mistaken with genies) and which then evolved into a diluted lesser energy in Greek society being known as daemons (not to be confused with goetic demons) Instead of a woman commanding these specific energies/spirits, the patriarchs decided that these specifics powers were only worthy of being used by men. These spirits were whitewashed, adopted into their religious practices and said to only be given to men at birth. No woman was allowed to possess them anymore.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The whitewashing of Medusa & Lamia.

In mainstream society these two women stories have been white washed but also to hide a very shameful history and narrative. These two were beautiful women, in older stories of black black mythology were known to be black and they were children of water & daughters of the powerful water spirit/snake/siren divine mother/feminine goddess.

Medusa was raped by the GREECIAN GOD OF THE SEA, POSEIDON and Athena covered it up, refused to avenge her and punished her by making her ugly to everyone. It’s speculated in several magikal circles that the snakes in her hair were actually dreads, due to their lack of understanding of black hair and also allegorically might have been a reference to her devotion to the fish or water snake, great mother goddess. A child of the divine feminine, mother goddess was assaulted in a temple by a man and a woman covered it up & celebrated it.

Let’s start there ... cuz this story says a lot! It’s one of the first historical cases in myth that really documents the issues that surround the black feminine specifically and it was intentionally whitewashed. Then to add insult to injury, Athena made her hideous to all men and her chopped off her head and used as a symbol of protection but also a subtle sign of disrespect to the fullest. This still goes on to this day.

In fact ALGOL, the demon star, which is considered to be strongest protective magick talisman in the occult world today is the HEAD OF MEDUSA. The child of water! BITCH! This energy is invoked constantly and the spirit of medusa is never allowed to rest.

However these egregious acts did not come without a price. Athena at time was a goddess of fertility. However desecrating a child of water or the sirens, is seen as an attack by the divine feminine and can will cause people to be afflicted with fertility and other mental health issues as well. This is speculative but it’s also likely that after this they were constantly visited by droughts, floods or repeating issues with water sanitation & purity after this. Lowered fertility rates and miscarriages might be more prominent, for Athenians and Athena devotees & likely continues to this day.

Devotees of Athena may also develop severe issues when it to their mental health because of this connection. They completely lose touch with their feminine energy and become extremely misogynistic after continued work with her.

Not only did Athena, cause Medusa to be seen as hideous throughout the land but she celebrated when she was murdered and proudly wore Medusa’s decapitated head on her shield. From the feminist eye this virgin deity/woman was extremely male identified and adhered to the patriarchal standard. She was tested by the divine feminine and failed.

Even more strange, Athena’s birth allegorically proclaims her essential character: her wisdom is drawn from the head of a male god; the bond of affection between father and daughter; her championship of heroes and male causes, born as she was from the male, and not from a mother’s womb. A dreaded goddess of war, she remained a virgin and a servant of the patriarchal society and remains so to this day. She is the misogynistic cool girl and very asexual at the core. In fact if you explore more of her mythos, it becomes very clear she hates women. I’m bewildered at how she has become associated with lesbians and the feminine at large, when it’s been very clear that she was intent on transcending her gender from the very beginning, but never managed to escape it.

To top it off, I’ll leave you with this quote from Aeschylus’ Oresteia by Athena:

“There is no mother anywhere who gave me birth, and, but for marriage, I am always for the male with all my heart, and strongly on my father’s side. So, in a case where the wife has killed her husband, lord of the house, her death shall not mean most to me.”

Queen Lamia was a said to incredible beauty who seduced Zeus, (a literal man whore) which as made Hera jealous. Hera cursed Lamia with infertility and insomnia. She went insane and is said to have killed her own children and ate them. Zeus is said to be the one who gifted her prophecy and gave her the ability to take out her eyes, so she would not be irritated at the site of other happy mothers.

She became associated with a child eating monster who was half woman and half snake, which ties into the Libyan snake cults. She was associated with phantoms, the shapshifting laimai or empusai and the daemon spirits.

Medusa and Lamia were Libyan by heritage and came from a place in Africa where temples to the water snake mother goddess & divine feminine were common before they were destroyed by invaders intentionally. These women likely had extreme gifts of seduction, mind control and other abilities etc. It’s highly likely that Queen Lamia used her powers of seduction, at the behest of her people to save them from colonization and was demonized for it. Zeus’s temple was in Cyrene in Lybia, so this is far more than an allegorical story. This may be a real life story that was disguised in mythos. Unfortunately deeper research into this subject has turned up many dead ends for me. It’s highly likely Medusa was a priestess of the the matriarchal Mami Watas or water goddess/snake spirits and was likely raped intentionally in Athena’s temple, as a show loyalty to the rising patriarchy by descrating the symbolism of the great mother and the divine feminine. This was likely an attempt to lessen power and status of the matriachal societies that existed at the time. Rape was common war tactic amongst colonizers and news of such disgrace would likely spread like wildfire. This also solidified Athena’s place amongst the male gods and gaining her their respect. Athena and her devotees went a step further to show their allegiance to the patriarchy, by stripping Medusa of her beauty supposedly and exiling her, then parading her decapitated head on shields, when going into battle likely with Libyan enemies.

This is just a brief explanation of a few horrific acts in history, which were whitewashed & explain why the essence of the black feminine has evolved to become more protective, predatory and fierce. She learned to defend herself. Now she kills those who threaten her.

Fun history tip: Usually anytime you see a snake in Grecian mythology, just know something got whitewashed, because the truth was really fucked up, made them look really bad & a black woman was there.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The black feminine is capable of more than you know.

Yes, mermaids/sirens/snakes & the mami watas can be scary at times but that’s what stepping into mysticism of deep waters is like. Water is capable of many things, it is one of the most powerful elements on earth. It can nourish you and kill you, and that’s the beauty of it really.

We should all be grateful the black feminine is so beautiful, fierce & scares the living daylights out of everyone.

You would be dead if it wasn’t.

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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Right Where You Left Me

Summary: Y/N never expected to see him again. He tore her heart out and left her in the dusty heat of a Las Vegas diner. She never wanted to see him again, but sometimes the heart wants what heart wants.

Word Count: 3.7k

Author's Note: This is the first prompt that I wrote for 400 followers and it is based on Right Where You Left Me. Some background info: Spencer and Reader (Female pronouns) were lovers when they were 23, Spencer left to join the FBI and Y/N never recovered.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Content Warning: Angst till the very end, one use of f--k, reader cuts her hand on glass so blood is mentioned.

Right Where You Left Me

2009, Enterprise Diner, Las Vegas, Nevada

The bell above the door always sounds the same, no matter who walks into the little diner. Whether it’s exhausted truckers looking for a cheap cup of coffee or lonely souls looking to be a little less lonely for even an hour, the bell’s chime is always the same.

From the first time she met Spencer Reid, Y/N knew that boy was destined for greatness. His greatness is exceptionally painful when it juxtaposes her intense ordinariness. Part of her always dreams of the bell ringing and telling her that he’s back. He’s back and would no longer just haunting her dreams. But he isn’t back. He isn’t back and she’s right where he left her.

Y/N wipes the counter with a worn napkin, noticing how her skin is cracked from her fingertips to the butt of her palms. The bell rings and Y/N picks up her head. An elderly couple walks in holding hands. It’s amazing to her, to be that old and that in love. She wonders what it would be like to have the kind of love that you’ll never run out of things to say. If her past has taught her anything, Y/N tells herself she’s not the kind of girl that gets a lifelong romance. She’s not the kind of girl that gets someone who gets her.

She’s the kind of girl that’s frozen in the place right where he left her.

September 2012, Enterprise Diner, Las Vegas, Nevada

“One of these is not like the other,” Sabrina says in a singsong kind of voice. She walks out from behind the counter, finished with her shift. She wishes Y/N good night before she leaves the diner, telling her to lock up and handle the clean up. The busboy makes his way to the table of men with two kinds of coffee, decaf and regular, in her hands. Y/N follows, rolling her eyes, behind with three coffee mugs.

Apparently, there is a missing child case and the FBI has gotten involved. The two men, dressed intimidatingly in black suits and gray ties, looked very different from the younger man who sat across from them. It only took her a second to recognize that face. It’s the face of all her dreams that at one point was just out of reach. But now it’s just the face of rejection and hurt.

Before she even realizes it, the coffee mug that Y/N holds in her hand drops and shatters on the floor. The men, even vigilant, turn towards the noise. Y/N wanting to disappear into the night, drops to the floor to clean up the glass. She hears a shuffle from the booth and in comes a pair of well-worn converse into her field of vision.

“Here,” he says, his voice just soft and steady as ever, “let me, Y/N,”

Y/N drops the glass like it burns her. But in reality, she’s trying to get as far away as possible from Spencer, because she knows if she touches him again, she’ll never be able to survive letting go.

Spencer.

Spencer Reid crouches down before her just inches from her face all these years later. It seems unbelievable to see him in the flesh, but it’s him, even if he looks a little older and a little sadder.

“Thank you. I’m going to get you a new cup. I remember how much you love coffee,” Y/N whispers, wishing again that she could turn into the wind and disappear.

Y/N tries to ignore the way Spencer’s co-workers eye him when he returns to the seat. Clutching the pieces of glass, Y/N cuts her thumb. The dark red blood rushes out and she can feel her pulse rise. She wraps a white cloth over the cut. By the time she gets to Spencer’s table, the blood has pooled to the surface. She places the cups on the table, turning to leave, but a strong, yet gentle hand grasps her elbow.

“You’re bleeding?” Spencer says, his voice ends on a high note like he’s asking her more than telling her.

“Yeah, it’s fine Spencer. I’ll take care of it later, it’s just-”

“Let me help you,” he says, the two men, his co-workers, share a thoughtful glance. Y/N has the sneaking suspicion that they can read her mind or very much close to it.

She narrows her eyes at Spencer as her thumb pulsates and the blood soaked napkin grows even more red.

“Last time I checked you’re not a real doctor,” Y/N says, the venom in her voice all too apparent. The man sitting across from Spencer with the kinder eyes puts his hands up in defeat.

“What the hell is going on here? Do you know her or something, Spencer?” he says, his confusion about who Y/N is growing into frustration by the second. The man sitting next to the man with the kind eyes doesn’t say much. Y/N expects that he’s soaking in the entire interaction or is too tired to care about his co-worker’s personal drama.

“Huh, you didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell you FBI friends about me, Spencer? Huh, can I say that I’m not surprised by that at all,” Y/N responds, fumbling with managing to pour the coffee and covering her cut with the napkin.

“Please, Y/N you’re being ridiculous, let me help you,” Spencer asks or rather, begs Y/N. Y/N tries to not let him know how much it affects her when he rubs his thumb on the crook of her elbow.

“Fine, make it quick Spencer, I’m closing up tonight and I want to get home soon,” Y/N says, walking away from the table before Spencer can even get the chance to get up from the booth.

Y/N is too far past the booth to hear Spencer whisper to his co-workers that he’ll find his own way back to the hotel. She runs her thumb under the running water, watching as the blood clears up, revealing her clean finger. Y/N can feel Spencer’s looming presence behind her. She can smell his cologne and thinks if he cans any closer she’d be able to feel his body heat.

“You’re not supposed to be back here, Spencer,” Y/N says, she knows she’s being short and clippy with Spencer, but she supposes that should be expected, considering how he left her all those years ago.

“That never stopped me, or you for that matter before,” Spencer says, taking a step forward. His hand comes up to gently hold Y/N’s. She can feel his fingertips on her skin for the first time in years. Y/N has to close her eyes to focus on anything but how close Spencer’s body is to her’s. It’s restraint in it’s finest.

“Things have changed, Spencer. People have changed,” Y/N says, she doesn’t make a move that tells Spencer she doesn’t like him touching her. Spencer, whose hands have a slight tremor as they hold Y/N’s, practices an equal amount of restraint as Y/N does. He has to stop the thoughts of what it would be like to feel his hand against her hand again or how she’d sound if he could muster up the courage to kiss her again. He can’t even think of the first place he’d want to kiss her if he had the chance again.

“I’ve changed, Y/N, I’ve changed,” Spencer says, knowing fully that he’s pleading with the girl whose heart he broke 7 years ago.

“I have a hard time believing that one, Spencer. You were always the exception to the rule, whether you liked it or not,” she tells him. Her voice has lost all venom. It’s bare to the world without any weapons to wield.

“Let me fix you up and I’ll be out of your life again,” He says, still holding on to her wrist, still holding on to hope.

Y/N nods and tells him where he can find the first aid kit. She watches as he reaches up to the top shelf and carefully places the kit on the counter. Y/N holds out her hand as Spencer takes an alcohol wipe to her wound. He grimaces more than she does, afraid that somehow, all these years later, he’s still causing her pain. What he doesn’t know is that his touch stings more than the strongest rubbing alcohol in existence.

“So,” Spencer starts, hating that there’s silence between the two of them, when a decade ago that would have been impossible, “how’ve you been?”

“I’m good, Spence, I’ve been good. All I ever wanted was a quiet life, and I guess that’s what I got,” Y/N says, Spencer knows her answer is cordial. It's an answer that you give when you really don’t want to give an answer.

“That’s good, Y/N. I’m happy for you,” Spencer says, he doesn’t realize that he’s been rubbing his thumb against Y/N palm until she reaches into the first aid kit and tosses a band-aid at him. Spencer blushes slightly, but thinks that he’s not offending her too much since he’s still at the diner.

“What about you, Spence? Did you ever find uh….someone that could…” Y/N says, her voice trailing off, too afraid to finish the sentence herself, but aware that Spencer is probably the only person on Earth that could fill in the blanks. He was always good like that, he could always fill in her blanks and make sense of her senseless.

“Find someone, like a wife?” Spencer asks, the blush returning to his cheeks, “no, Y/N I’m not married. Are..are you? Do you have, um, a husband?” Spencer asks, hating the way that he stumbles over the word “husband” like it’s a dirty word. Though he supposes that it is a dirty word when Y/N’s husband is not synonymous with Spencer Reid.

“God no, Spence. I couldn’t not after, you know,” Y/N says, again letting Spencer fill in the blanks and hoping beyond belief that he’d pick up the pieces too. Spencer looks over at where his co-workers sat when they were working, he can't say he’s disappointed to see that they are gone.

“I never really apologized for what I said to you, Y/N. I know that I’ll never make it up to you, but..”

“It’s okay, Spencer. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, I’m just a waitress. And you, god. You are you. How could I ever think that I’d get a happily ever after with someone like you,” Y/N says, brushing past Spencer to collect the coffee mugs from the table.

“Please Y/N don’t believe that for a second,” Spencer says, his voice full of pain and regret.

Y/N thinks about the times that she would dream of seeing him again. She can’t remember if she’d rather him to be sorry or if she'd rather him rush back to her and sweep her off her feet again with a love confession that rivals the greatest stories ever told. But then again, waitresses don’t get knights in shining armor. Especially when those knights wear sweater vests, despite being in law enforcement. Spencer always loved facts, and he told it to her in a few more words than necessary, people like Spencer Reid don’t end up with people like Y/N Y/LN.

“You still think too highly of me, even after I hurt you, I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you,” Spencer says, hanging his head low. His hair, that’s grown much longer, falls into place over his eyes, as if it’s shielding Spencer from Y/N.

“Did you come here tonight thinking I’d be here? Did a part of you still want to see me?” Y/N asks, she wants to reach out and touch Spencer’s hand, she wants to reach out and feel that his hand is still the same hand that would caress her face and make all her worries vanish. But it’s hard when that hand is attached to the man who destroyed you.

“I didn’t think you’d still work here, Y/N. You always hated living in the desert. Remember how we talked of getting a place somewhere cold where you can see the snow, but still be warm-”

“And safe inside? Yeah, Spencer, I remember that. But that was our dream, how can I still want that when it’s tainted by you,” Y/N spits, walking towards the last booth in the row. She plops down, sinking into the plastic covered cushion. Spencer, nervously, sits down next to her. He doesn’t say anything, knowing how Y/N’s bated breath and tapping foot tell him she’s going to unleash 7 years of pent of hatred and frustration. And somehow, 7 years of desire and want and love.

“I lied Spencer,” Y/N says, looking down at the table. “I lied. I hate it here, you’re right. God, why are you always right?” She smiles wickedly and Spencer has to tell himself to not give way to his emotions. He needs to let Y/N finally release her justified anger onto him.

“You moved on, Spencer. You moved on and I’m right where you left me,” Y/N’s strained voice is perhaps noise that Spencer knows will haunt his nightmares, “It’s like I’m a ghost of that girl I was when I was 23, waiting for someone who’s moved on. Waiting for you, but god, no one wants to love someone so fucking pathetic,”

Spencer wants to react, he wants to reach out a kiss away Y/N tears that fall down her cheeks. He wants to make her pain go away, but how can he when he’s her pain. Spencer knew he never wanted to end up like his father, yet sitting in that corner booth watching Y/N cry, Spencer realizes he’s his father’s son. Spencer realizes that he ran away from the best thing that ever happened to him, when thought he got a better opportunity.

“I never moved on Y/N,” Spencer says, reaching down inside himself for the courage to tenderly hold Y/N’s hands in his own. Even all these years later, her hand still feels the same inside his.

“I’ve thought about you every single day of my life. It’s a curse, Y/N, not being able to forget how much I hurt you. As much as I try, I’ll never be able to erase the look on your face when I told you--”

“When you told me I wasn’t good enough,” Y/N finished for him. It looks like she can fill in his blanks as well as he can fill in her’s.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I didn’t mean it and I know that you’ll never look at me the same way, but I’ve never stopped loving you, Y/N. I’ll never stop loving you,” Spencer says, he’s sobbing at this point. The tears trail down his face and his skin in blotchy red.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly, like she’s trying to control the mix of passion and fury that threatens to take control of her, “I need to get this out without interruptions, so just please listen to me,”

Spencer nods and tries his best to not react when Y/N reaches down to his lap and takes her hands into his. He tries to hold in the emotions that split seems in his not-so tough exterior.

“I created a fantasy for you Spencer. I gave you the life that I could never give you. In my head you had kids because I needed you to be deliriously happy. I gave you a wife and I hated her because I love you too much to hate you. I needed you to have the life that I couldn’t give you, because it beats thinking you’re a mess. It beats thinking you ended up like me,” Y/N professes.

Spencer brings his hands up to her cheeks wiping away the tears that fall rapidly. Even the time he was kidnapped, the countless of times he was beaten or held hostage, his heart never ached quite like this. His heart never yearned to soothe someone’s pain as it did when Spencer watched Y/N come to terms with the years and years of heartbreak Spencer left her in.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Spencer says, his fingers lacing through Y/N’s pinned up hair, “I hated myself for years for doing what I did to you. I knew that there was no one else, there’s no one else for me, Y/N,”

Y/N’s cheek presses up against Spencer’s chest, his warm body is home and is spicy, yet sweet cologne the closest thing to paradise. She tries to get control over her breathing, trying to steady it and not slobber too much over Spencer’s soft shirt. His hands anchor her to him. They latch on to her elbows, begging her silently to not shove him off and kick him to the curb, even though it’s what he deserves.

“Oh god Spencer. You really still are my Spencer, aren’t you?” Y/N asks, her voice slightly muffled by Spencer’s chest. She can hear his heart beat, even now, it’s still in sync with her heart beat. After all these years, between all these miles, throughout all this pain, Y/N’s heart still beats for Spencer’s.

“I don’t wanna lose you again, Y/N,” Spencer says, the tears back on his face, some have dried slightly and new ones make their way down and pool onto the back of Y/N’s head. Spencer brushes his fingers against Y/N, making sure that he’s actually holding her in his arms in this little diner he thought he’d left in the past.

“Please don’t hurt me again, Spencer. I love you too much to lose you again, but I can’t get hurt like that. I can’t bear to do that again,” Y/N says, raising her head to look at Spencer in the eyes.

She can see the glistening tears that fall down his face and the way his gaze softens when his eyes latch on to her. They could spend hours drinking each other in, making up for the lost years. She searches his face, finding new age lines and wrinkles, and maybe even a gray hair or two. But underneath all that, he’s still Spencer.

“I though our love was dead, Spencer. I thought I had my chance real young and the rest of my life was going to be spent haunting this booth, waiting for a man that in my delusions was married to a wife that wasn’t me and with kids that aren’t mine. But good God, Spencer, you really are too much sometimes?” Y/N says, her voice breathy and exasperated as she leans in close to Spencer.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Spencer says, terrified for her answer, even though he knew it already, based on how deeply Y/N looks into his eyes.

Y/N is quiet, and even though it’s just a moment it feels like forever. They are so quiet that all they can hear is their heartbeats. The little diner where their fateful love story took flight is never quiet, yet in that moment you can hear a hair pin drop. Spencer counts the seconds that pass, reading Y/N’s eyes, reading her emotion, and praying to a God he’s not sure is real that she’s not going to leave him this time.

“Yes, Spencer. I love you too much to let you walk out here again,” Y/N says, leaning into Spencer’s face.

She bridges the gap that they’ve both been ignoring since they realized they were in each other’s company again. Spencer is still when she leans in, he doesn’t realize until her soft lips kiss him how much he’s missed her. Before his mind is able to run off the far away places called doubt and denial, Y/N wraps her arms around Spencer’s neck, hooking him in closer. Having each other so close has never made them feel so utterly helpless and giddy. Spencer feels like he needs to tether himself to Y/N’s because he still feels like she’s going to float away. The world was dizzying and Spencer was the only solid, strong thing, holding her to Earth. Y/N always knew he was her anchor, it was just a matter of time before Spencer realized it too. Spencer’s quiet whimpers and shaky tremors spurred her on, kissing up and down the openness of his face until she felt the need for air.

“You’ve been practicing? You’re better at this than when you were 23,” Y/N says, not wanting to let go of Spencer’s neck.

“No, God no, Y/N. I haven’t been with anyone since you,” Spencer says, slightly ashamed to be reminded of his deepest mistake.

“Spencer, baby, you know I forgive you, right? And considering you kiss like that now, I know how you can make it up to me,” Y/N says, planting a couple light, feathery kisses up Spencer’s neck and to the corners of his mouth. Her lips are like a paintbrush on his, turning the grimace he holds into a winning smile. He remembers that it’s near impossible for him to not be flustered near Y/N. He’s glad, even now, that still rings true.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer says, he leans his forehead against Y/N’s and lifts her hands to his mouth, kissing each of her fingers as he says “you are enough, and I’ll hope you’ll let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you,”

Y/N kisses Spencer on the nose as he scrunches it, causing her to laugh. She slips out of the booth and holds a hand out for Spencer to grasp. He takes it without hesitation and pulls her in closer. She supposes that after being apart for so long, it would take some time to get back into their rhythm. Y/N knows that it will never be the same; they aren’t 23 years old anymore. They’re scared and wounded, but together, Y/N thinks that they’ll never run out of things to talk about even if they are old and gray and wrinkled.

THANK-YOU FOR READING :) <3 <3

I really appreciate every like, comment, and reblog. It helps me know what people like about my writing things I should work on.

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

What Happens in Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 1

Word Count: 4,885

POV: Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Smut, Drinking (all the good stuff)

Notes: Well here it is the new fic that’s been in my head. I tossed around a couple different guys for this, but some of you suggested Marky and well looks like it stuck. Trying to do this a little different and keep this in an all read POV, so we shall see how that works. I don’t see this being super long maybe between 5 or 6 parts. Hope you guys enjoy. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

They say that New York is the city that never sleeps but whoever 'they' is, well, they got it wrong. It has to be Vegas. Lights are always flashing whether you were indoors or out, the jangly sound of slot machines can be heard at all hours and the seven deadly sins seem to be on full display twenty-four hours a day. It's no wonder their tagline for years was 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.' If only that were true.

You wish you could blame someone else but you can't. Vegas was all your idea. As maid of honor, it fell to you to plan your best friend's bachelorette party, and in your mind, there was only one spot, Vegas. Now, you were second-guessing your choice as your head was pounding like there were a thousand drummers who decided to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show, only in your brain. There was only one thought that made it through the marching band playing in your head. What the hell happened last night?

Maybe you should start off small, like where were you first, considering that the little drummer boy was now doing backflips in your head. You were definitely in bed, which was evident as you could feel the mattress underneath you. You could also feel the duvet comforter covering your body, but there was something else. Something a bit heavier, almost as if a weighted blanket was covering your stomach and your breast, but it wasn't that. It was an arm slung across your midsection and a very large hand cupping your one boob. God, you hoped it was still attached to a body. You should really take a peek. It would be the only decent thing to do.

As you gradually lifted one eyelid open, the first thing you noticed was that you were not in your hotel room, as the wall looked completely different. No reason to panic, you told yourself. Everything would come back to you as soon as this god blessed pounding ceased. Peering the other eye open, you got back to business at seeing if there was a body attached to the arm currently trapping you to the bed. Carefully, you turned your head to the side to see a very large and very naked man firmly attached to the aforementioned arm. He was gorgeous as he lay there sleeping ever so peacefully. You drank in his features, kind of like you downed drink after drink last night. His brown hair had this golden hue to it that made your fingers want to reach out and touch it, though you refrained. Then there was the beard covering his face, not too much and not too little, and now that you were thinking about it; you definitely felt some of that beard burn on your thighs. If you could only remember last night. The only logical thing to do was to go back to the start of this, back to a time when you were sober.

It started months ago when your best friend Kennedy got engaged. You honestly didn't see it coming that fast. She'd only been dating Ryan for a little less than a year, but he asked and she said yes, and when she asked you to be her maid of honor you screamed and laughed and cried, and told her you couldn't wait to plan her bachelorette party. Everyone knew the bridal shower was only for boring stuffy old aunts so that they could buy her the latest air fryer or new dish pattern. The bachelorette party was where all the fun was, and what better place to have it than Las Vegas.

Of course, everyone agreed with you. The only wrench in the plan was that Kennedy decided to up her wedding date and make it a nine-month engagement. That barely left time to find a dress let alone plan the most outrageous bachelorette party of the century. You would've said decade but twenty-twenty was fastly approaching. Thankfully, you had connections. Night one was more sedate since you all were just arriving at the MGM hotel at different times; eleven of you in total when Ryan's sister decided to join at the last minute. You booked a private room at Lago in the Bellagio for all of you to enjoy.

It was the second night, that was the piece de resistance. A limo picked you all up and took you over to Excalibur to see the legendary Australian group, Thunder from Down Under. I mean what was Vegas without seeing a male stripper or two. The next day, a private bungalow was waiting for you at Wet Republic in the MGM Hotel. One would've thought the night watching men strip naked would've been your undoing but apparently, it all started poolside.

"I seriously can't believe he pulled you up on stage and proceeded to dry hump you up there," Kelsey rehashed.

"Really, Kels?" Kennedy said downing another mimosa. "How could you not see that happening? (Y/N) has known Nate for a couple years. I mean he did get us front row tickets." This was all true. Nate, the emcee for Thunder from Down Under and you were friends, had been since your firm had done their calendar shoot two years ago. He had generously given you prime seating to the show that night and also set you up with a few other perks for the trip. "The only thing I'm surprised at, is that this one," she bumped you with her hip, spilling both hers and your mimosas. "Didn't end up going home with him last night."

"Oh my god, Kenny you did not just say that." She may be the bride and your best friend but really, she was pushing the line.

"Come on, it's not like it hasn't happened before."

At least four pairs of eyes turned towards you, Ryan's sister Gretchen being one of them. "Ok, admittedly, I slept with him, once." Both Kennedy and Kelsey gave you that look. "Ok, maybe it was twice, but he has a girlfriend now, and we are just friends."

"I'll give you that," Jade spoke up in your defense and suddenly she was going to earn the title of new best friend, not that the lines weren't blurred in your little group as you were all sort of best friends. "But what about Edward, the one with the turtle tattoo on his hip."

"You were so looking at more than his hip." Eva teased while Jade simply hid behind her champagne glass. "But yeah (Y/N), he was totally hitting on you."

"He was not."

"Oh, he was," Kennedy added her two cents. "And as the bride I take offense, they should've been hitting on me."

"Wait, why would they hit on you?" Jade sputtered. "You're taken bitch." Of course, bitch was said in the most loving way.

"I'm not dead."

"No, but I'm sure my brother wouldn't appreciate it." Leave it to Gretchen to be the mood killer. "I think I'm going to go take a nap. I'll meet you at the pool later."

She headed out the door, and honestly, you were ecstatic about it, for she was too judgmental for your liking. "Wait, Gretch, that's not what I meant."

"Leave her go, maybe a nap would do her good." They were Jade's words but your sentiments. "Now back to why (Y/N) did not take that beautiful man up on his offer last night."

"There was no offer," you insisted.

"Come on (Y/N), there was an offer. There's always an offer. Remember when you were doing promo for that Batman flick." You tried to shut Kennedy up with a death glare, but she continued to prattle on. "We all know you ended up doing the nasty with Superman."

"WHAT?!?!" Yeah, that definitely came out of the other nine people's mouths in the room.

"Thanks, Ken. No one knew that but you."

"Oops, my bad." She had the grace to at least be embarrassed about the whole thing.

"You mean you slept with that guy, the British one, tall, all muscular, extremely good looking. Damn it what's his name." You could see Eva wracking her brain for his name and you just didn't want to go there.

"Hen…"

"Yes, him," you admitted, stopping Jade before she could finish his name. "Can we please change the subject?"

"Why, when we are all living vicariously through you," Kelsey added. "Especially poor Kennedy, who is now committed to spending the rest of her life with one man."

"Geez, you make it sound like a death sentence. I love Ryan and I'm perfectly fine spending the rest of my days with him."

You had to suppress an eye roll. Not because you didn't think that Ryan and Kennedy weren't in love. If you were being honest, you just thought they were rushing things a bit. The problem was telling your best friend that; you tried in the past and never succeeded. "We know you're in love Kenny." And then because you couldn't stop yourself, you added. "It's just are you sure you want to be tied down so young? We still have our whole life to live."

"Jesus, (Y/N). We all know you're not ready for marriage and what comes with it, but we can't all be you with your fancy job in LA, meeting celebrities all the time. Some of us have real lives and want to settle down and have a family."

"Kenny, that's not what I meant." The last thing you wanted to do was argue with her at her bachelorette party. "I only want you to be happy."

"You have a funny way of showing it." The air in the room took on a chill and not from the air conditioning. If you didn't do something soon this party was going to go downhill.

"Oh, would you look at the time," Jade chimed in. "We should probably be heading down to the pool." Everyone grabbed their stuff, Kennedy giving you the cold shoulder as you made your way out of the hotel suite. Jade came up and wrapped an arm around you. "She'll be fine. She's just on edge after the whole Gretchen thing. We'll give her a few shots and you two will be good as new."

"I hope so." Unfortunately, things weren't fine. Kennedy seemed to avoid you and your attempt to make things right, even after a few shots. That didn't stop you from taking a few more. You had a strict one drink to one water rule, that you threw out the door today. Downing shots like it was your job. It was probably an hour later when you were in one of the private pools, with a few of the girls that a large group of very attractive men walked in. They were definitely different from Nate and the guys from Thunder, and at first, you thought it was some fraternity get together with how young some of them looked, but at second glance there were some gentlemen that were your age or older.

"They've gotta be baseball players," Eva whispered over after they took up residence in the three bungalows next to you.

"Nah, none of them have a dad bod." Jade was right, they were too fit to be in the MLB. You'd been around enough major leaguers to know while some were incredibly in shape, some were not. That didn't seem to be the case with this group.

"I'm gonna rule out NFL as well," you told the girls. "None of these guys look like they're an offensive guard. Those guys are huge." You noticed a few of them staring at the six of you that were in the smaller pool reserved only for the bungalows. Grabbing another shot, this had to be your fourth in just sixty minutes, you downed the drink really starting to feel its effects.

"Looks like we may just find out here," Jade said, nodding to let you know some of the guys were headed your way.

"Ladies, care if we join you?" One of the men asked, you had to admit he was extremely handsome but also gave off an air that he had more than a few notches in his bedpost.

A couple of the girls nodded, but when no one said anything, you found yourself saying, "Come on in."

"So, what brings you to Vegas?" This from a different guy, who had quite a number of tattoos covering his arms, and you had to admit that the ink just made him more attractive, that and his height. He was well over six feet tall and you didn't mind looking up to see his face as he took the seat next to you.

"Bachelorette party," Jade blurted out and you saw a few eyebrows raise.

"Tell me you're not the bride?" His breath was warm or maybe it was the sun, either way, you definitely felt a warmth in your belly that wasn't there moments ago.

"I am definitely not the bride." Shit that sounded desperate. "Though I am the maid of honor, at least I hope I still am." You looked inside the bungalow to see Kennedy in deep conversation with Gretchen.

"Hmm, sounds like there's a story there. Care to tell me? I'm Jacob by the way, though the guys call me Marky."

He held out his hand, the one that didn't have a beer in it, and you took it. "(Y/N), and I'll tell you though it's rather dull, on one condition." He quirked a brow at you. "You tell me what sport you play."

He chuckled. "What makes you think I play a sport? Maybe I'm an investment banker."

"Well, first there's your accent, though I suppose you could pull off investment banker with that. Second, you are all…how shall I say this…physically fit. A quality most athletes have and considering the number of you; I doubt this is some kind of investment banker convention."

"Ok, I'll give you that, though we could be bodybuilders or…" the lights on the billboard on the strip changed to a Thunder From Down Under ad and you saw a light bulb in his head go off. "Or male strippers." Shit, you almost spit your drink out on that one. "What, too much a stretch? Maybe it's your lucky day." He started to sway his hips in the pool, one of his friends joining him while you and Jade tried to contain your laughter.

"Nah, it's already been (Y/N)'s lucky day with them. She knows them all rather intimately."

"Jade!" you yelled at your friend, or ex-friend, though you weren't in a position to be losing anymore at the moment.

"Oops." She at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Alcohol made everyone do some crazy things and Jade was no exception to the rule.

"Intimately huh?" Jacob asked as you splashed water on Jade causing her to shriek and hide behind Jacob's friend who you learned was someone named Erik. "Have I lost the competition before it even starts?"

"There's no competition."

"So, you're single then?"

"Yes, though you still haven't answered my question." As soon as Jacob heard you say yes, he slid a little closer to you.

"What was that question again?" He said with laughter in his eyes and before you could get annoyed with him, though you doubted that would happen, he added. "I remember, just giving you a hard time. Anyhow, we play hockey."

"Oh, nice. Like professional level? Or are there minors in that sport?" You really weren't one hundred percent sure. You'd taken in a game here and there but not really paid any particular attention to it.

"We're in the NHL, playing for Vancouver. Just came out to do a little team bonding before the season starts. So, are we going to talk about this intimate encounter or why you think your maid of honor duties are getting revoked?"

"I think I need another drink to talk about either of them."

Jacob flagged down one of the personal waitresses for the area, requesting a couple of shots and drinks for you both, and you had to admit you liked the way he worked. "Now that that's taken care of…"

You blew out a frustrated breath, more with yourself than anything else. "I said something stupid right before we came down here." He kept silent, his eyes totally focused on you and what you were saying. A refreshing change from some of the men you spoke to. "I just think she's rushing into things. They've only known each other a year and we are too young to get married. She's only twenty-five, we have our whole lives ahead of us. You know?" He simply nodded his agreement before you continued. "I want to see the world, go places, and do things before I'm strapped down to one man forever. Not to mention being tied down with kids. How can Kenny not want that too?"

"I totally agree. I've gotten to see a lot with hockey but there's no way I want to be tied down just yet."

"Exactly, you totally get me." Your drinks arrived then and Jacob took one shot and handed it to you before taking the other.

"Well, I say we toast to being young and free with no commitments."

"I'll drink to that." He clinked his glass to yours and the two of you downed the drinks. It seemed like the DJ noticed the change in your mood, as the music got louder and the energy seemed to kick up a notch. You got up and started to dance in the pool; the other girls joining in. It wasn't long before you felt Jacob behind you. His hips grinding into your backside, as his large hands encircled your waist.

Drinks flowed freely the entire day, and if you were being honest, you couldn't remember a time you'd been that drunk before the sun had even set. You were laughing and dancing, and quite literally having the time of your life; your maid of honor duties completely forgotten at this point. Gretchen came up to you at some point and told you that she, Kennedy, and Kelsey were heading up and would catch up with the rest of you later. Everyone else was having too much fun with the Canucks to want to leave.

A few more drinks and an hour later, the party was winding down. Most of your friends had headed up to their room to pass out, only a few stayed behind. Jacob had somehow maneuvered you into one of the bungalows that was empty. You shared a few kisses here and there out in the pool area, but now that you were out of view of prying eyes things were getting a bit more heated. Jacob's hands were on your ass, as his tongue was down your throat; not that yours wasn't doing the same thing to him. He moaned into your mouth, the sound going straight to your core. Your bikini bottom was no longer wet from the water of the pool, but the press of Jacob's cock against it.

You both stumbled back, landing down on the large daybed in the bungalow, though somehow Jacob's reflexes softened your fall. His hands went straight to your breasts, kneading the flesh there. He was just about to untie the string of your bikini top when someone walked in. "Jesus, Marky! Take it upstairs would you!" You squinted trying to make out who it was but at this point not remembering anyone's name besides the man that was on top of you.

"Oh, shit…thought I was in my room." It was funny, you thought the same thing. "Sorry, Jay."

"His name is Jay? Like the letter?" you mumbled as Jacob helped you off the couch. "What comes after J?" Fuck you were drunk and when you were drunk you tended to ramble. You once actually talked to a damn parking meter because you thought it was a person, and you were pretty sure you could talk to one now if there was one around.

"Doesn't matter, babe," Jacob said kissing your lips. "Wanna head up to my room?"

You had to go up on your tiptoes to loop your arms around his neck. "Yes, I do." He planted a kiss on your lips then cupped your ass cheeks causing you to jump a bit.

"Let's go," he finally said breaking the kiss. You had enough sense to grab your things and tell your friends not to worry that you'd catch up with them tomorrow. They all winked and nodded or at least that's what it looked like in your head because that's when things started to get hazy. You had vague recollections of making your way through the casino, stopping here and there. Part of you thought that the two of you even stopped to play roulette only so you could have another drink.

You did remember tumbling through the door of Jacob's suite. His lips were on yours and neither of you were paying attention as he unlocked it. Thankfully his quick reflexes caught you; apparently, even when drunk, goalies couldn't lose some of those natural instincts.

His hands, you remember them being everywhere on your body, and how incredible they made you feel. His calloused touch lit a fire inside you, that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He rid you of your white swim cover-up easily, flinging the garment across the room, and then his lips were all over your body. It was easy to recall the way he made you feel, as he softly bit down on your nipple through the fabric of your bikini. You'd craved this all afternoon. It had been a couple months since you'd been with a man and Jacob was everything you'd been waiting for.

You ripped off his shirt. Your hands immediately going to his chest and roaming down his tattooed arms. He was all muscle, hard and lean everywhere, but when you slid your hand down inside his swim trunks to his cock; oh, it was hard all right, but lean was not a word you'd used to describe it. You were barely able to wrap your fingers around his girth, and as you stroked him, you realized God had not only blessed him with height but length as well. The man was made to star in a porno, you thought as you shoved his trunks down.

Somehow, during that time Jacob had managed to get your bikini top off, though you supposed with its simple string ties it wasn't a hard feat to manage. You dropped to your knees, licking your lips before taking your tongue and swirling it around the head of Jacob's cock. "Det kanns sa bra min vackra prinsessa (that feels so good my beautiful princess)." Jacob's mumblings had you pulling back and looking up at him. "Don't stop, baby." This time you knew what he said as you slowly sucked him into your mouth. There was no way that you could take him all in, so you pumped the rest of him with your fist. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked him inside, using every trick in the book you knew. Jacob muttered more in Swedish to you, things you had no clue as to what they meant, but judging by his reaction they were things he was enjoying very much. He threaded his hands through your hair, pulling it back so you could look up at him with big doe eyes. "Jesus," he swore, his hips bucking into your mouth at the sight of you with his cock in it, looking like that. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out shouting," Tillrackligt, enough. I think you're trying to kill me, princess."

There was something about the way he called you princess. It wasn't anything you'd been called before and most times you'd preferred babe or baby, but the way the word rolled off his tongue did things to your insides.

Jacob helped you off the ground, his lips ghosting over yours before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. His large form handled you easily, arranging your body just the way he wanted to before slipping off your bikini bottoms. His large hands worked their way from your ankles to your calves, all the way up to your thighs; spreading your legs as he went. "So beautiful." He traced his fingers lightly over your pussy lips and you quivered in anticipation of what was to come. One long finger slid between your folds all the way up to your clit, once, then twice, and then once again. "So wet, prinsessa, and all because of me."

"Mmm, yes, Jacob." He dipped that same finger inside you then. The digit slipping in easily and so he added another. Then his mouth was there. Tongue flicking over your clit in a way that made you squirm with pleasure. "Oh yes," you moaned, caught up in the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. "Just like that." Your hips lifted up on their own accord, seeking more of what this giant of a man was doing to you. Jacob never let up, making a come-hither motion with his fingers and you found yourself unraveling around him; legs shaking, breath panting as your orgasm overtook you.

“So pretty when you cum, prinsessa.” He pulled his fingers from your pussy then brought them to your lips. You opened without any thought, licking your juices off of them. Before you could get them clean, Jacob’s mouth joined yours, kissing you while you sucked on his index and middle fingers. Your tongues mingled together, as Jacob positioned himself between your thighs. The head of his cock nudged between your folds and you sighed into his mouth at just that first touch. Slowly, he filled your pussy, until he bottomed out. Only then did he release your lips. “Fuck you feel so good.”

Jacob loved the feel of you clenching around him. It felt like he was in heaven. Part of him didn’t even want to move that’s how good your body felt, but then you shifted your hips up just a hair bit and he had to suck in a breath at the pleasure that went straight to his groin for fear he would spend inside you right then and there. He willed his body under control and only then started to move.

With every snap of Jacob’s hips, a wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails raked down his back, probably leaving marks, but it seemed to only spur him on. “Yes, Prinsessa,” he moaned out, as you bent your knees allowing him to go deeper. You moaned as he hit that treasured spot that had you seeing stars. “You like that?” Another moan was his answer, as he continued to fuck you.

That peculiar feeling started to wash over you. Your pussy fluttering around Jacob’s cock as the orgasm finally broke. Back arching, legs trembling, you were moaning out his name as the climax seemed to continue, as Jacob drove wildly into you. As you came down off your high, Jacob found his. With a few erratic thrusts, he was spending deep inside you with a loud groan. He slumped forward, his sweety forehead resting on yours. “Det dar var otroligt.” You looked at him curiously, your brain not working at all but also knowing he was speaking something in Swedish to you. He smiled, a glorious one that you found yourself getting lost in and you found yourself returning it. “I said that was amazing.”

“Yes, it was,” you breathed out. Jacob rolled you both onto your sides, tucking you into his. It wasn’t long before both of you were passing out.

Now here you were, finally putting most of the pieces together from last night. You looked back over at the sleeping man, who had given you such pleasure even in your inebriated state. He really was gorgeous. You honestly wouldn’t mind going for round two, after a couple of Tylenol, of course. Speaking of which you needed to get up and see if you had any in your bag. If only you could move him without waking him. You carefully took your right arm and went to move his left which was slung across you, but then something caught your eye. There on his ring finger was a ring. Oh, it wasn’t just any ring, it was a wedding ring! You knew he didn’t have it on when you were in the pool. You were not the type of woman to go hitting on a married man, let alone sleep with him.

You pulled your other arm out from underneath him, fully intending to grab your stuff and get the hell out of there when you noticed a bright and shiny diamond on your ring finger. There was also a matching wedding band. Then like a tsunami hitting the beach of a small island a memory came flooding back to you of the two of you entering the hotel chapel. This man wasn’t married to just anyone, he was married to you!

#jacob markstrom #jacob markstrom smut #jacob markstrom imagine #jacob markstrom imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #nhl smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #what happens in Vegas series

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scraregenrecs · 2 years

Note

Can u rec some post canon or au Stevie/Alexis fics?🥺

Hey there anon! So this request kicked off a bit of a discussion amongst Team Scraregenrecs about whether or not canon divergences 'count' as AU. So we haven't included those on this list but if you or anyone else wants to see those... well, you know where we are 😉 In the meantime, though:

POST-CANON:

[art] alexis.rose.comms by @afterism, rated G

A snapshot from Alexis' instagram when she visits Schitt's Creek.

(Or, there's only one person who can convince Stevie to wear a flower in her hair.)

Baby, Gotta Say It by @middyblue, rated E, 15980 words

Several months after they hooked up at the wedding, Stevie and Alexis go for a drive.

falling into place like dominos by @petalwritesx, rated M, 4897

Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.

David and Patrick hold a second housewarming party, this time at their newly-renovated cottage. For old times' sake, they decide to play spin the bottle. Meanwhile, Stevie has been wrestling with her feelings for Alexis since she left for New York... and it never occurred to her that those feelings could flow both ways.

i have possibly, maybe, pined a bit by bluebluebaby, rated T, 5567 words

Stevie picks up Alexis from the airport... they get snowed in en-route back to Schitt's Creek and figure some things out.

(Featuring: Oh No There Was Only One Bed! and Edibles and Vending Machines)

I Think She Knows by @vulcantastic, rated M, 35417 words

Post-"Happy Ending." Stevie is sorting out her feelings for a certain Rose, and it's not the one you think.

right side of my neck by @blneberrys, rated E, 5913 words

Alexis, though. She’s sat several seats down at the bar, leaning over as she babbles to the bartender and twirls her hair. She’s in something short, riding up to expose the muscle of her thighs, and her dress has a slit in the side: straddling the line between her waist and hip. Even in the low, amber light of the Wobbly Elm, Stevie can see the goosebumps high on her skin, the way her hand rubs across the wrist that cradles her colorful drink. Alexis’ hair is tied up, and as she sways her head in conversation it brushes against the nape of her neck, the plane of upper back, just where the crest of her spine dips under skin.

“Hey,” Patrick says, and Stevie’s attention is drawn back to him.

Patrick wiggles his eyebrows at her. “White wine?” He asks.

Stevie always wants things she can't have. The most recent iteration of this curse is Alexis Rose.

Stevie/Alexis Friends with Benefits series [two fics] by @petrodobreva, rated E, 13758 words total. [These fics don't have to be read together to be understood, they stand alone... but you should totally read both.]

Alexis is on a beach vacation with her family...and Stevie...with whom she's had a friends-who-occasionally-hook-up situation for a while. As if her mom wasn't already enough to worry about.

She has stayed here so many times over the years; the Roses stopped pretending that Stevie might stay in a hotel when passing through LA or New York years ago. She’s had a key to this place since Alexis bought it. She leaves two sets of sleep clothes here. And a mug.

the holiday by @anniemurphys, not rated, 19478 words

“Invite Alexis to Christmas at my parents’,” he told David.

David groaned, tipping his head back. “My sister continuously ruins my life,” he grumbled, dragging himself up off the couch reluctantly and picking up his phone.

Patrick brings David, Alexis, and Stevie home for the holidays.

You're ready and you're willing by @yourbuttervoicedbeau, rated E, 3401 words [chapter two is Alexis/Stevie]

Everyone's feeling a little frisky after dressing up as Mystery Inc. for Hallowe'en.

AU:

Just Good Business by @yourbuttervoicedbeau [fic], Amanita_Fierce, @sarahlevys, @januarium, @petrodobreva, @reginahalliwell, @rhetoricalk, @schittposting, @sunlightsymphony, unfolded73 [podfic], rated T, 1597 words

Alexis is the host of A Little Bit Alexis, a celebrity gossip podcast. Stevie's her (supposedly silent) producer, but she couldn't help a few sarcastic comments coming out. Listeners quickly grow to love their dynamic and assume they're a couple, and correcting them might go down badly. But the more they play it up, the more they wonder.

the devil's in the details (but you've got a friend in me) by @leopxld-fitz, rated T, 4403 words

Stevie is an up-and-coming writer, fresh out of Canada. Alexis is the head of a major fashion magazine with a mixed reputation. Stevie can't stop thinking about her new boss and, honestly, it's kind of getting to her.

A Devil Wears Prada AU.

wrapped up in you by @hullomoon, rated T, 7114 words

"When you said your sister would be here I thought she'd be a spectator like us, not a competitor."

or Alexis is an Olympic rhythmic gymnast and Stevie is very gay

You Can Break by another_Hero, rated T, 2001 words

“That’s so sweet of you,” said Alexis, “but I just started this drink, and I drove here, so.” By Stevie’s calculation, there was a zero percent chance Alexis had driven here—she wouldn’t want to be pressed into leaving alone. But then, she hadn’t come with anyone else, and Ray’s Saturday-night taxi service didn’t run on Tuesdays.

Happy reading!

- @sarahlevys and @yourbuttervoicedbeau

#scraregenrecs #stevie x alexis #stevie budd x alexis rose #stevie budd #alexis rose #fic rec #asked and answered #anonymous #requests (answered)

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