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graysturns · 15 hours

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𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕? | 𝕔.𝕤.

note: hey guys :) this should be short and sweet but i hope you like it anyways. i love soft chris! also last pic is me on my period and that’s why i wrote this + i hate rachel

warnings: none i think just me hating my coworker

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long as you dreaming bout me ain’t no problem,

i don’t got nobody, just with you right now,

11:47 pm

my phone buzzes twice, causing it to brightly light up in its spot right by my face.

“ughh, leave me alone!” i groan, tossing it to chris’ side of the bed.

“what is it baby?” chris walks into our room, shutting the door quietly and placing a water bottle on my nightstand. he sits beside me and rubs my back slowly.

“rachel from work wants me to cover her shift tomorrow. something about ACT testing.”

he raises an eyebrow at me. “isn’t that something you would request the day off for? y’know like, in advance?”

“that’s what i said.” i roll my eyes before proceeding.

“i already told her no, but she keeps insisting because i’m the only person off tomorrow.”

chris leans over to grab my phone, unlocking it and putting it on do not disturb.

“it’s about time you have a day off. they’ve been putting you on the schedule every day now.” he sighs, combing his fingers through my hair.

“i know. and today was shit.” i huff out.

“do you wanna talk about it?” chris watches me intently.

“i just don’t wanna complain too much.”

“baby, i looove hearing you complain. it’s like, my favorite part of every day.” he taunts.

“only if you insist,” i sit up and smile cheekily at him.

he repositions himself so he sits across from me, pulling his knees up under his chin.

“talk to me sweetheart,” he grabs my hand, kissing my knuckles.

“so i clock in, and right away i’m being told to get on the espresso machine. my manager was supposed to work alongside me but she kept getting pulled away for manager things so i was doing both positions at our station, which is fine, but during a rush it can be a lot.” i start to ramble.

“and the second she gets back, i get the feeling that i started my period! and i completely forgot about it because i’ve been so busy, so i didn’t have any tampons on me,” i continue.

chris drops my hand and reaches into his hoodie pocket, revealing a bottle of pamprin.

“i actually got the notification earlier from your period app, so i brought these upstairs.” he smiles to himself, opening the bottle and shaking a couple tablets out on my palm.

“chris, thank you!” i exclaim, popping them in my mouth and taking a sip of the water.

“of course babe, i got you.” he pokes my stomach.

“so what else happened?” he asks me.

“well after that it slowed down a little. but the whole coffee shop was a mess after the rush and since we were closing, we had to deep clean everything. i’m just so sore and i want to die,”

“i get it, babe. did you shower yet?”

“the second i got home. fucking rachel spilled a pitcher of cold brew on my thigh and i was so sticky.”

he nods with a slight smile, moving his body up against the headboard.

he laid back in his spot and motioned me over to lay on his chest.

“fucking rachel.” he tsks while rubbing my back.

“why do you hate her so much anyways?” he drops his head to look at me.

“well, do you remember that one day you came through the drive through right before my shift ended? you were picking me up and decided to get a drink.”

he thinks for a moment, “mhm?”

“well she was working the window, and she came to tell us all there was a hot guy outside. basically telling the girls to come look,”

“yeah i remember a few girls came by, pretending to stock cups or something. that’s rachel?”

my lips drew a tight line.

“remember how she had you pull into a parking spot, saying they’d bring the drink out to you?”

“mhm?” he asks again.

“well, she decided to write her number down on a slip of paper and hoped to give it to you on her way out, along with your coffee. i left before her, so while i was getting settled in the car, she was walking up to you trying to rizz you up.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’.

“what a sneaky bitch!” he chuckles.

i roll my eyes at him.

“chris it’s not funny. my coworker wants to fuck you.”

“well it’s never gonna happen, sweetheart. she’s insane if she thinks that.”

i mess with the drawstring on his hoodie, picking at the plastic end.

“it’s just frustrating. she’s been doing little things to mess with me, since the moment she saw us together in your car. like today with the cold brew, that was fully on purpose.”

he sighs, patting the back of my head. “why don’t you just quit? you don’t need to work.”

“chris, you can’t pay for everything,” i sigh, dropping the thin rope.

“i actually can. besides, i’d much rather have you here at home, happy and free to do what you want with all that extra time.”

i smile up at him, lightly running my nails across his stubble.

“you’re too sweet to me, but i can’t let you financially support me chris. we aren’t even married.”

this time, he rolls his eyes at me.

“so what? we already live together. you’re my shawty or whatever the kids say,” he laughs, picking up a strand of my hair, tickling my nose with the end.

“the kids in 2009, and don’t say that ever again, chris.” i snort.

“no but seriously. i know how much you hate this job. and fucking rachel.” he smirks.

“i’ll apply to a few different places in the morning. and we’ll go from there.”

“no, y/n.” he grabs my hand, holding it between us.

“it’s making you miserable, you can quit now and i’ll hold things down until you find something else.”

“chris, i already told you, it’s not fair to you. you’re not my husband, and you don’t need to provide for me.��

he looks to the ceiling for a moment, pondering.

chris faces me again, grabbing hold of my cheeks. “wanna get married?”

“married? chris i-i’d marry you in an instant but not for this reason. you can’t be-“

he pulls away from me and leans over his side of the bed, digging through his nightstand.

turning to face me, he opens his fist to reveal a ring.

what the hell? i sit up quickly.

“y/n.” he holds the ring up.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for a while. i know my timing may not be ideal, but i hate the fact that i’m not your husband, and i hate the fact that you won’t let me take care of you. married or not, i’m always going to be here to take care of you, to help you, to love on you, especially when you’re having a day like today.” chris takes my hands in his, holding the ring on his fingertip.

“..but i’d really rather be married to you and do all those things.”

“chris, you don’t mean..” i begin.

“don’t act all surprised now.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“you know i love you, we’ve talked about getting married someday. i think we should just do it sooner than later.”

“chris, i don’t know what to say. i want to marry you, i just don’t think it should be because i hate my job.”

“it’s not because of that. i’ve been planning this, if i wasn’t then there wouldn’t be a ring here. what do you think?”

“holy fuck, chris.” i take his hand and open it, placing my left one in his palm.

“let’s get married.” i smile up at him.

he slides the ring on and tackles me into a hug, causing us both to fall backwards on the bed.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you!” he chants while peppering kisses all over my face.

short, sweet kisses turn into a long, heated make out that gets interrupted by three dings from my phone.

“did you not see me turn your phone on do not disturb?” chris huffs out.

“i swear to god if it’s rachel..” i pause, leaning over to pick up my phone.

“she did that ‘notify anyway’ thing. she’s insisting i cover for her tomorrow.”

my phone starts to buzz in my hand, causing chris’s head to snap in its direction.

“absolutely not!” he grabs the phone and clicks it off, throwing it on the other side of the bed.

“fucking rachel. someone needs to punch her in her throat.” he says jokingly.

“h-hello?” a small voice escapes my phone.

“shit, chris i thought you declined the call!” i lunge for the device, end the call and turn the phone off.

“do you think she heard me?” he asks, wide eyed, with a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“i don’t care, i’m quitting that job anyways. i have a husband now.’ i beam at him, waving my hand in his face.

“hell yeah you do!” he places his hands on my waist and brings me back down to him.

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hope u liked it 🤍 also this is dedicated to rachel i hate u please quit so i don’t have to! just kidding that’s mean! (i’m not)

comment if u hate rachel too

tags!

@imwetforyourmom @anonymouslyachrisgirl @junnniiieee07 @imtalkinnonsense @wh0resstuff

if you wanna be added comment here!

#Spotify #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #soft chris

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cardinalcheerio · 2 days

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I believe that while dick is a horrendous driver; so are the rest of the Batkids

I mean especially the ones who were robin/Batgirl wayyy before they could drive.

Examples:

Dicks driving and we all know he's trash. I mean. I haven't read many of the comics. But I can't imagine someone who grew up riding trains in the circus, then being chauffeured (thats hard to spell) around until hes old enough to move to a different city (I'm not from a city but most people walk right?) Then driving a police car which a guarantee nobody cares how he's driving in it. Ain't no way bro knows road rules/courtesy.

Jason was too poor for cars, then I suppose he knew how they work. But knowing how a car works and knowing how the road works especially in gotham are two very different things. He drives a motorcycle (badass) which has some different rules, and honestly there is no way he knows how to drive timeline wise. He died at 16, so no licence/learning (doubt he learned at 15 in gotham.) Came back as an adult after being in nanda par bat then traveled via motorcycle or roof. There is no time he would've learnt to drive a car.

Tim, honestly. I just think Tim would stare into the road and either cause 6 crashes or not even remember driving. He's very detail oriented, but also crazy busy so I'd see him speeding, thinking he could drift out of the way of a stopped car and realize, "oh shit. Not the batmobile this doesn't stop as well!". Also honestly, who would've taught Tim to drive? YouTube?

Steph, shed hit every curb in history. I have no reason to believe this, because steph is criminally underrepresented and i can't find any in depth stuff bout her. But i just think she'd be blasting music and some idiot would cut her off, she'd get pissed (as any gothamite would), cut him off and get hit. Bruce would be buying her a new car cause whats the point of having a billionaire be your pseudo father if he ain't gonna pay for shit?

Cass, i think she could drive if needed, but just a casual drive to get coffee or something? Road laws in America are confusing as shir cause rhey change everywhere you go. And it's gotham so nobody is gonna follow any, so pretty much anyone but Alfred is fucked. I think she'd be a good high speed driver tho

Damian, bros 12 (in my mind atleast), and has been chauffeured around his whole life. Ain't no way.

Duke, honestly. May be the only hope. Just cause he had a stable family for a bit that prob talked to him a bit about driving. Still wouldn't trust him driving me, though. Plus, Gotham is a city and most people prob walk cause of the traffic.

Could you imagine comming home from somewhere and turning on the radio to see why you're stuck, "we have reports that every road in gotham is shit again because of some second rate villian and batman. Those motherfuckers are the reason we have such high taxes. Just sell your car and move. Probably quicker to leave for metropolis than wait in this traffic.:

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lionlena · 2 days

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Headcanon: Marcus tells you about his meeting with Teresa...(MarcusPikexf!reader)

Since you liked the first part so much, I decided to add something more to this situation. Domestic fluff.

On the way back home, your toddler's mouth wouldn't close. You watched in awe as Marcus listened to everything patiently while driving the car.

At home, as promised, a delicious dinner was waiting for you.

And you didn't have to worry about anything. Marcus even took care of your son's evening routine. He bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and read him a bedtime story.

You knew he was a great father to your son. And soon he will also be the perfect daddy for your little daughter.

You were just finishing applying lotion to your pregnant belly when Marcus walked into the bedroom. He looked so comfortable in a t-shirt and sweatpants. And yet it didn't escape you that he was a little tense. You noticed it at the station.

Marcus looked at you tenderly and sat down next to you with a quiet sigh. You immediately grabbed his hand and asked:

"Have you had a hard time at work?"

"No… It was actually fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you seemed tense at the station and then on the way home."

Marcus immediately felt his heart warm. You knew him so well that you noticed even the slightest change in his mood.

"It's about that woman you asked about."

You frowned and had to remember. This woman was so insignificant to you that you had already forgotten about her.

"The one with the sour face… What's wrong with her?"

"It was Teresa… Teresa Lisbon."

You immediately sighed, understanding who this woman was.

"Oh, baby… I'm so sorry."

You placed your hand on his cheek.

Marcus smiled warmly and placed his hand on yours.

"I'm not sad… That's not the point. My broken heart was healed a long time ago thanks to you."

He turned his face to the side and kissed your hand.

"So what is it about?"

"She upsetting me. She acted like I was some backup boyfriend she could always go back to… I should have said so many rude things to her…" A hint of anger crossed his face as he remembered her inviting him out for a drink. "I should have screamed in her face that I have the greatest wife in the world and that I would be a complete idiot if I left you for someone like her… But…" He sighed heavily. "I was so shocked I didn't do it."

His confession touched you. This is your husband. Your beloved Marcus, who always wanted to tell the whole world how much he loves you. You knew that on his desk at the FBI office, he kept your wedding photo, a photo of all three of you, and, recently, a photo of ultrasound. (He will probably add a photo of your newborn daughter soon.)

You cupped his face in your hands and said calmly.

"Honey, your actions are much louder than your screams. Believe me… Teresa saw it all perfectly. She saw a loving husband and father. A man who has everything. Family, love, job, and future."

Marcus smiled widely and kissed you on the lips. Your words gave him so much comfort. But after a while, the worry returned.

"You are not angry at me?"

"For what, darling?"

"That I didn't tell you right away."

You shook your head. You really didn't feel angry. You understood why he didn't tell you right away.

"It wasn't the right time there at the train station. I know you didn't want to hide it from me."

Marcus kissed your hand and nodded.

"Exactly. I just wanted to take you home as soon as possible and enjoy you, not talk about someone who really is nobody to me."

He leaned back on the pillows and pulled you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head.

"Thank you for being such a wonderful wife and always being able to put my mind at ease. I love you, my love."

"And I love you."

Marcus began to tenderly stroke your belly. He rested his head on yours and closed his eyes. There was no reason to worry about anything.

Teresa was a hazy memory, a woman not worthy of his heart.

Now he had everything in his arms, his whole world. And he wasn't going to lose it.

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike headcanon #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #teresa lisbon #Marcus deserves the world #domestic fluff

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mrsmarinara · 1 day

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Happy Mother’s Day

This is a part of Hockey Babies au

I’m trying to come up with a tag to put all stuff Nico, mom and Noelle. If you have any ideas let me know! (Also p.s a fic is coming out soon about this family and then another player player will be added soon!! ☺️

postedbynicohischer

nicohischier: Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who changed my life for the better. I thought I was the happiest a man can be but along came my schönes Mädchen and made me a better man and partner as well as giving me a the most beautiful daughter.

I love you @y/nusername and I will for as long as you let me.

View Comments

y/nusername: who’s that hot mama in the first pic? 🔥

↳ nicohischier: back of she has a man

↳ y/nusername: I don’t see a ring on that finger

nicolelaud: lol she got you there @/nicohischier

nicolelaud: @y/nusername Happy Mother’s Day babes. Hope you and Nell are doing well.

↳ y/nusername: She slept the whole night last night!!!!

jackhughes: I totally know y/nusername was pregnant in the first pic.

↳ y/nusername: liar. I was barely a month and Nico and I had just recently found out.

↳ Jackhughes: your boobs looked juicer and your hips were rounder.

↳ naterbastian: dude you can’t just say shit like that.

↳ nicohischier: Your feet are going to fall of during morning skate tomorrow when I’m done with you.

↳ jackhughes: 🤐

kristen.haula: A mom’s first Mother’s Day is so special. You’ll remember it forever. 💛

y/nusername: seriously, though. None of this would have been possible without you. I’m so lucky to have you as a partner and as the father of my child. So if you think I’m glowing in those pictures it’s because of you. @/nicohischier ❤️ 😘

User liked this comment

john.marino97: Happy Mother’s Day short stack.

↳ y/nusername: nobody make any sudden movements or we might frighten the elusive John Marino.

yourmom: my baby has her own baby now. It’s overwhelming, I think I might cry.

↳ y/nusername: Mom, you went to breakfast with me and Noelle this morning. You’re staying in the guest bedroom in my apartment.

↳ yourmom: I just miss little Nell.

↳ y/nusername: you’re literally holding her right now as I make dinner!

ninahischer: just one more week until you guys come to Switzerland! The family is going to fall in love with her immediately

user liked this comment

#nico hischer x reader #hockey babies au #nico and mama hischier #sunny’s insta edits #instagram edit #nhl imagine #nico hischier #mom!photographer #hischiers house

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n1ghtwr1ter · 6 hours

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At the end of my latest TLT reread and it’s been physically painful attempting to read the last 40+ pages of Nona. Like, the short shrift that Gideon/Kiriona gets given by the people in the story…the theoretical good guys who honestly only see her as a thing, as a means to an end with an inconvenient dead soul attached to it… It makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest.

Nobody has cared about Gideon her whole life. Most people, in fact, if they remembered about her at all, went out of their way to tell her how much they wished she didn’t exist. In the final chapters of Gideon, she finally gets the thing she’s been desperate for her whole life: somebody telling her that they need her, they care that she exists, and they badly want her to go on doing it. This allows her to make peace with the prospect that at the ripe old age of 18, she needs to die so that that person can go on living and living and living, using the castrated remnants of her soul as fuel to do so. Not a great way to go, but at least Gideon would get to be useful to somebody, would get to be remembered for something.

And then she wakes up in the wrong body, and finds out that her sacrifice - her attempt to be useful in the most selfless way possible, in that her self will no longer exist - has been rejected. And not only that, but the person she tried to give herself to - the one who was supposed to care about her - went to extreme lengths to make completely sure that she no longer remembered about Gideon.

She literally cut Gideon out of her brain.

And now, drifting along in the worst sort of half life where she’s inhabiting her body but it’s no longer really hers, in very obvious fashion - there’s holes in it, her heart is missing, and it’s got her shitty father’s handprints all over it (not even touching how much of a violation that is), indelibly - she finally meets back up with the small group of people who could theoretically be relied upon to be glad to see her again.

But then the one who was supposed to care about her most tries to kiss her (massively OOC for Harrow), and turns out to not even be there - it’s some weird baby inhabiting her body, and doing a really shit job of it too. The rest of them won’t stop talking about how they need her to break into the Tomb - as if she was just another key, same as the ones they worked together to acquire in Canaan House, just bigger and more inconvenient - and/or how they both fucked and killed her mom, who also (surprise, surprise) wished that Gideon had never existed, but saw her as a thing that needed to be done for the good of the mission.

Ultimately, they all make it abundantly clear - Palamedes, Camilla, Pyrrha, and especially Nona, all these people who are supposed to be kind and good and right - that they would prefer she wasn’t there. That it just be her body, with no Gideon attached - at least not Gideon the way she is now, broken and rejected and miserable. They would all far have preferred that she not have her own inconvenient thoughts and feelings and desires and impulses - that she just be inanimate and let the important people, the grown ups, get things done.

They wish she didn’t exist. Same as everybody else in her life, save one, and now she’s left wondering whether Harrow really meant it at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have left Gideon to Kiriona’s fate.

And honestly? Really, truly? I know everybody in the fandom loves Pal and Cam and Nona and Pyrrha, but in the end I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. They are fucking side characters, and as intriguing as Nona has been from a worldbuilding standpoint, I ultimately resent having been forced to read 400+ pages of filler bullshit about fucking side characters. I am a butch, and I’m here for my sarcastic, loving, angry, vulnerable, forgiving, and yes, inconvenient sword butch. I’m here for Gideon. But Gideon has been fridged for the last two books of the series in which she is supposed to be a, if not the, main character.

And it feels like almost nobody else in the fandom feels the same way, which, fine. I’m used to that. I’m also used to being told I’m projecting; and I’m used to being told that I’m inconvenient too, in my thoughts and my opinions and the mere fact of my existence. I spent the first eighteen years of my life being told I was inconvenient. Yet another point of overidentification with Gideon.

But in case anybody still thinks that Nona proves that Gideon was an asshole all along, think about all of the above. Think about how it would make you feel to come back from not just death but from the erasure of your existence, something you chose in order to save the life of someone you loved, and be told that you’re inconvenient. Think about how you’d feel if you’d been told all your life that it would be better for everyone if you didn’t exist. And then tell me that Kiriona isn’t in the right and that I should give a rat’s ass what happens to literally anybody else.

It’s Kiriona Hours up in this House, butches. We’ve spent long enough caring about people who would prefer we weren’t around. For once in our entire lives we were told we were important; we were told we mattered; we were told we were the main character. We were going to, if not get the girl and save the world, at least get to do something real, something important, something like being the hero.

But that’s over now; we’re back to being wrong and bad and inconvenient thanks to the simple fact of our existence. So it’s time to embrace it. Let’s be a little shit. Let’s be kind of a dick. Let’s have our own agenda, let’s play our cards close to our heartless chest, let’s allow our circle of empathy to contract to ourselves and maybe one more person. That’s where I’m at right now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

#the locked tomb #kiriona gaia #harrowhark nonagesimus #griddlehark #gideon nav #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #sorry if this makes 0 sense #but also sorry not sorry bc I don’t care #and neither do you if you’re being honest with yourself #go enjoy thinking about your little masc Lyctor fusion and leave me alone to not rot when I’m supposed to #and why yes I do need therapy #thanks very much for noticing #if you feel like paying for it and the hours I’d miss going to it here’s my cashapp #$fuckoff-2024 #also just to get out in front of these #yes I should just go read something else #but 1. you and I both know this series changes your brain chemistry so good fucking luck #and 2. point me at a book where the butch gets to be in the spotlight and I will gladly fuck off forever

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bumblesimagines · 7 hours

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i didn't know who else to call. you're all i've got right now.

i can't keep doing this.

Cassie Howard

i didn't know who else to call. you're all i've got right now.

i can't keep doing this.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

A shout of victory left you and you pumped your fist up into the air, a string of giggles following when you heard Ethan groan loudly as Link came in 5th place. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as you bumped his shoulder with a smug smirk, the scoreboard placing you and Rosalina in 1st place. "Go ahead and place the order, Daley. Remember-"

"Pepproni and bacon, yeah, I know." Ethan set his controller aside and used the couch behind him to stand up, reaching down to pick up his Dorito bag from the floor before approaching the end table by the couch where the phones were charging. "Oh, hey, you've got like... two missed calls."

"Shit, is it my mom?" You perked up immediately, tossing the controller onto the couch and stumbling up onto your feet. Ethan shook his head and scooped your phone into his hand, raising it close to his face before the color on the screen changed and it vibrated.

"Uh, 'C.H.'? Who's that?" Ethan raised his head to look at you, brows knitted together and his hand stretched toward you to offer the phone. "Why don't you just put their name and picture instead of some initials?"

"It's, uhm, the new guy at work." What the fuck did Cassie Howard want? You clutched the phone tightly in your hand, maneuvering around the pillows scattered on the ground.

"Why's he calling you at-" Ethan turned his phone on. "-almost eleven pm?"

"I don't know, dude. Maybe he got the night shift or something. I'm- I'm just gonna check, alright? You go through with our deal while I'll take this." You told him, slipping down the hall and into the nearest bathroom before fumbling for the light switch as you finally answered and held the phone up to your ear. The light flickered on and you nudged the door shut with your phone, your ear picking up the sniffling on the other end. Jesus.

"(Y/N)? Oh, my god, finally. I sent like twenty texts and- and I..." Cassie sniffled again, her voice sounding hoarse. You rubbed the bridge of your nose and inhaled deeply because who else would interrupt your night if not Cassie and her drama?

"What is it, Cass? I'm a little busy right now."

"I-I need you to pick me up. Rue came by like, I don't know, two days ago and she told Maddy about me and Nate and- and now Lexi and Mom barely speak to me and nobody answers my calls. Everyone's ignoring me and they're acting like I'm a bad person. I can't be here right now. I didn't know who else to call. You're all I've got right now. I need you, please."

"That's hella depressing, Cass. You need more friends." You sighed. "And Nate? Why can't he pick you up?"

"He's ignoring me!" Cassie almost wailed, her sniffling mixing with hiccups and sobs. The soft rustling on the other end told you she'd likely taken to hiding under the covers to cry all day and it almost made you feel pity for her. If only she hadn't gotten herself into the mess by messing around with her best friend's ex-boyfriend, then maybe you'd actually feel bad. "Please, please, (Y/N). I'm- I'm home right now. I can pack a bag and- and I can- I can wait for you. I just... I need someone right now."

"Christ, fine, fine. I... I'll pick you up but you can't stay at my place for over two days, Cass. My parents will start asking questions and if people find out you're staying with me it'll cause problems. I'll talk to Nate, alright? If not him, I'll see if Aunt Marsha talks some sense into him. But... Cass, I can't keep doing this. I can't keep picking up after you and solving shit for you, alright? It's fun messing around but... I'm tired. After this, you and I are just friends, okay? I'll be there soon."

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nevermoreconfessions · 24 hours

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I kinda wanna see as Annabel is getting more positive character development Lenore to get more negative - see Annabel become nicer while Lenore becomes more destructive and anti-hero - would be an interesting contrast for them to swap positions

(Sorry for the 24-hour hiatus, everyone; I was very busy! I graduated, celebrated with family, and made a long drive home.)

Between you, Anon, and me, I think this is the route that the writers are taking.

First of all, Annabel Lee made her first friend. Her first actual friend. (PoshBesties™, we love them in this house.)

Prospero seems to have a geniuene care for Annabel — one that rivals what Lenore has with Duke. Prospero was the one who looked for Annabel, reached out to help her from that dusty closet, and went on a splendid little walk with her that resulted in the, "Can we be friends? Proper friends?" question.

(I half expected Prospero to be like, "...Were we not friends already?")

We can see throughout the comic that Annabel Lee and Prospero meet for tea. One can only assume that they gossip like the little old ladies that they are. With the little bits and pieces we see, I've begun to love their friendship (as little that has been shown of it).

Anyways, this friendship can be considered her first positive milestone.

Lenore?

Lenore has gotten into her first major argument with Duke (and Pluto). Morella seemed horrified upon hearing that there was a murder attempt involved. Nobody knows each other as well as they think they do. The foundations are set to crumble.

I can go on a ramble about how Lenore attaches onto these people too quickly because of her trauma/past, but anyways...

Also, Lenore is remembering more of who she was — an arsonist with a lot of issues and trauma. That's bound to cause a personality change. (I'm most excited to see how Lenore processes the relationship she had with Annabel.)

Personally, I'd find it pretty interesting if both characters had a change of heart that pushed them right back to where they started. In other words —

They might not meet in the middle, after all. They'll just be on opposite sides yet again.

EDIT: Let me specify something.

When I say that this would be interesting, I'm not saying it would be a interesting ending.

I believe that their eventual reunion would be enhanced if both of them understood where the other was coming from. That sort of, "I understand you completely, finally. Let's heal together," would be so sickeningly sweet.

#nevermore confessions #nevermore webtoon #nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #prospero nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #annabel lee webtoon

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tired-reader-writer · 2 days

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Okay so for some unknowable reason I fell into watching a let's play series of a horror game, and now I'll definitely be jumping at shadows for the foreseeable future until the spell wears off. I'm not good with horror. I knew this, and yet I felt compelled to watch it—

But enough about me, let's kinda vomit out the AU brain mulch that has formed in my head in an incoherent manner.

This has to do with Hilmes, Ranna/Ashaya, and the Haunted Temple™ that will be featuring in the fic.

I would highly recommend you check out the link first to get some context on what the everloving fuck I'm talking about because this thing ain't coherent, baby!

Also, some stuff might contradict each other, I'm still trying to suss out what works and what doesn't, this is basically unfiltered brain soup.

Folk tale added to the Temple, it's deep in the woods, “don't go into the woods, don't go into the ruins, it'll eat you up” is a cautionary tale everyone knows about.

Wonky time mechanics. You wander into the Temple, you've only been there for a hour you swear but you come back out months later.

Folk tale as a foreshadowing device: a royal princess was said to have been snatched up by a bandit in this region— some say she was kidnapped, others say she fell in love with this bandit. Who knows, really? Is the tale even true?

The above folk legend as a foreshadowing device for Ashaya being 1) a secret princess, 2) joining the clan though I guess it's not much of a foreshadowing since they'll most likely be gone w Farangis in the same chapter the myth is mentioned [because the clan got mistaken for bandits and got killed in the first chapter, remember?], 3) falling in love with Alfarīd aka a bandit.

The tale could also be an “explanation” for a princess that actually went missing— a young woman who wandered into the temple for some reason (unclear) finds out something so terrible that she can't bear to face the world outside again.

(it's about Kaykhusraw's betrayal)

I'm still not sure whether I'll actually keep the princess part. It could be a neat bit of foreshadowing for Hilmes discovering smth, maybe he sees an imprint of her, but I feel there's no way to communicate her journey effectively in the story since nobody actually knows what happened to her

Still though, I like the idea of Parsian royal women having worldbuilding and perhaps even plot relevance. I don't think the family tree thing from the novel extras (iirc??) even provided female members of the royal line. Tanaka, I swear.

It'll be forever before we actually get to that point but I'm actually worried about writing Hilmes' (terrible terrible) time in the haunted temple turning into a side quest problem if you know what I mean? An arc/event so divorced from the rest of the plot and world that screeches the pacing to a grinding halt. I mean, the temple tumble is necessary to his character growth, but it really has the potential to become... tedious to read.

For the record, I'm worried about Alfarīd and Ashaya's scenes having this same problem too, since they break off from the rest of the cast to have an adventure together. But at least having them have a plot progression that ties into other plot threads is easier than doing the same with Hilmes because they're not trapped in an isolated location.

Wait, info about the bells can actually be revealed here, and not have the clan remember throughout? Or if they did remember the bells existing then the locations of where the bells had vanished to could be received from the temple.

They'll need to decode it first, though.

Okay, I'm not sure what to do with the Rukhnabad. I was originally gonna have Hilmes not pull it out and cause problems but I... kinda need the damn thing for the plot. Maybe he gets Shooketh™ from whatever he learned in the temple that it compromises his ability to be chill about the looming threat and he yoinks it out of desperation—

(or maybe Ashaya can be the one to take it, as a twist, though what would their reasoning for doing so be?)

SYMBOLISM SYMBOLISM SYMBOLISM

Okay, so, death.

Sherine (Ashaya's original name before they changed it upon joining the clan) is dead. She died when she disappeared into the woods.

The clan has a death-and-rebirth thing going on. Someone joins the clan, they either choose to keep their name or not, but the self they were before they joined is gone, dead to the world, essentially. They could not belong in the living world, hence why they joined the “dead”. Folks who had complicated relationships with the parents who gave them their name, their old families, their old selves, those people typically discard their names (as Ashaya, Kashi, Kazai, etc did) while those who had a positive relationship with their families but lost them in a traumatic way would keep their names (as Farangis and Gieve would). I know I've talked about this before but I can't remember if I put it in a post or in a comment.

Y'know the changeling thing? The died-but-came-back-wrong thing? The same principle, it's not literal, mind you, it's a metaphorical, symbolic thing.

So, a secret royal child goes into or near this place and is reborn as someone else (Ashaya)

Only years later, another secret royal goes into this place, gets trapped in it, and is reborn anew (Hilmes)

Words are not wording rn but you get the idea, right?

Also, mentioned somewhere that the temple holds onto things of the past, aka if you have a belonging on your person that represents something from the past that you cling onto, bye-bye item, you're not getting that back.

Aka, the temple snatched Hilmes' mask because it's a representation of his fixation w the past and everything that's tied to it aka his trauma his identity his sense of self etc etc

Hilmes can't get out bc he built his everything around his past, ergo, his whole person is a figment of the past

Like recognizes like, hence why he's trapped until he's forced to build a new identity that doesn't revolve around his, well, everything

Ashaya probably didn't get trapped bc, well, kid's not fixated to the past they just wanted out (from their shitty family situation)

Bloodstains, screams, inexplicable items vanishing and manifesting, hallucinations/visions that were probably actual memories of the past, Hilmes is not gonna have a fun time

The temple's haunted but in like, an intangible way, so to speak? No literal spooky ghosts floating about, they're fused to the building so the building itself is a haunting, you get what I mean?

Maybe there is one tangible ghost Hilmes can actually see. Maybe two, if I end up keeping the royal lady.

Okay, maybe I won't keep the royal lady.

But something could guide him through this whole ordeal and lead him to whatever truth bombs it wants to reveal.

Could his parentage be revealed here? Unlikely, the temple's hauntedness is it basically reliving the past over and over, not much space for... hm.

Maybe Kaykhusraw's journals could appear inside— no, no, probably too far-fetched.

So many specifics I need to nail down.

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #wolfpack au #winds of wolfsong #hilmes #ranna (oc)#ashaya (oc)#gods I need to sort out her tag #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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the-orange-tabby-cat · 18 hours

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The Renegade

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean. You are my only hope, The renegade - Your parents ask you to try seeing a therapist, Tess, and you agree under one condition: she can't let you fall in love with Joel Miller. A fic in the format of letters, from you to Tess. 🐾

read on AO3 | masterlist | next chapter

CW/tags: Explict +18, no outbreak AU, slow burn, fluff, smut, kinda loser reader? lol, implied age gap, coming of age, no use of y/n

Word count of the prologue + chapter 1: 6,4k

A/N: This will be a quick fic, I promise! I needed to take it off my head, it was clogging everything else at this point lol I really wanted an anti-hero protagonist instead of the usual good girls I write. She is messy and adorable at the same time, I'm really proud of how the story is taking shape! Hope you like it!

PROLOGUE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

You said I could write you in any format as long I’m true to what I’m putting out. That’s some therapist bullshit, but since it’s you reading this mess, I will let it slide. I thought a lot about what to write down for you, not the usual overthinking, more of a “where do I begin?”. Remember, you were the one who told me to write this if I can’t say out loud what it is inside my head while we are in session. This shit is hard, okay?

Let me start by being the smartpants I used to be: the human brain processes a thought faster than one meter per second. If I put together all the meters my brain ran while getting bad ideas, I could now cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you to avoid certain people? That strange feeling you get when you see a trainwreck of a person, the one that didn’t exactly do something bad, they just are stuck somewhere out of this reality and you think to yourself “I would never get in that position”?

I did get in that position. I’m stuck in that somewhere. For years now.

Wish I could tell you that something horrible happened to me when I was younger, that my mother crushed all my dreams and my dad left one day to buy a pack of cigarettes. What about a strict family or an over-the-top religious one where I’m one of ten kids? Not even close to the truth, I’m an only daughter.

Middle middle class: enough money to live more than comfortably, far from the luscious lifestyle of the riches. I grew up knowing money didn’t come from the trees, I touched some grass, okay? The only thing expected by my kinda-aristocrat parents was that I would achieve academic success prior to a life full of achievements.

Chess competitions, spelling bee trophies (if I make a mistake a few pages down, it’s been a while since it), debate club captain, swimming team… You name it and I did. At seventeen I was voted as “most likely to be successful” and second place for homecoming queen because slutty Katie gave the basketball team a sloppy blowjob after practice. I had a first kiss and gave one bad handjob under the bleachers by that age.

Then university came and nobody, no fucking body, got wowed when I got an Ivy League on my first try. My head was too shoved up my ass to notice life around me. I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore because girls in my class were prettier than me, wasn’t the smartest since I wasn’t a teacher’s pet by just existing.

My classmates didn’t care for me because I had no clue about social etiquette: what alcohol is acceptable to bring to a frat party? How do you pick up guys and let them suck on your tongue? Do you stay inside your dorm room when your roommate is fucking or do you wait outside?

I could do it with being the awkward girl, but not with being less than perfect. By the second semester, I was crying every day in the shower and realized I had no friends, just people who had the same interests as me back home. I tried so hard to become the number one in my class that life became hell the second my teacher gave me a lower score on a significant test.

I left her class and instead of crying, calling my parents to vent, or any other shit, I walked by the first frat house I saw and decided to lose my v card there with any guy that looked remotely cute.

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be a slut if I hadn’t had a penis inside me yet, but I knew that something was boiling up for years. My hand sneaking under my panties after a tiring day, humping on my pillow whenever I got frustrated, even the shoulder massager I got for after swimming practice humming on my clit did it. All I needed was a chance to forget for a moment the hell that was my life.

And I did. A sand blond guy with a shark smile that would fuck anything that moved in his direction, clearly a rich bitch whose parents got his spot in the university. I walked in his direction and took my panties off, put them in his hand, and the next thing I saw he was deep inside of me while I hopped him vigorously.

I cummed so hard that I think saw Jesus, whatever he might be. Not that the guy made me cum, I had an itch for so long that any scratch would do it. Any. After coming down my high it was clear in my mind: I would do anything that I didn’t do before.

Drink until pass out, rob beer from the liquor store, fuck my roommate's hot dad, cheat on a test. Nothing was out of limits. Well, I still had to finish university and never use drugs because that was a hard no for me.

You see, Tess, I’m so good at keeping my promises to other people and ignoring my own needs that I did finish university. Graduated with an honor badge and everything, my parents' wet dream. Expect they no longer knew me and had no clue that I spent four years whoring myself and doing everything to ignore who I used to be.

And this is why on my first day in a big company, a trainee job earned right after college, I vomited inside the bathroom stall during onboarding. A panic attack a week later when my leader delegated some tasks. You give me a few months and my mind went blank the second I started a presentation to the c level board. I ran so fast outside that I fell on the sidewalk, got up, called for a cab, and never came back.

It’s been years since it.

My parents came to you because they still have some hope. I don’t, I think they are being dumb. Yes, I have an Ivy League degree, a bunch of useless skills (except for Mandarin, I can read so fast the menu at a Chinese restaurant) but nothing to do with when I WON’T come back to who I used to be. Do you think I sound miserable now? I’m miserable but I’m free in my kitchenette downtown, with my band t-shirts and two jobs. Living the dream.

Of course I’m fucking lying to you. I hate my life because the bitch running it is so dumb (that’s me, by the way).

It used to be kinda cool. The day I ran from the office was the same day I went straight to the arcade and played Mortal Kombat II so much that I broke the machine’s record. I went there for a full week before the manager, an emo guy looking like a teenager, decided to hire me.

It wasn’t enough to pay for my fancy downtown apartment, the one that got furniture that didn’t come from IKEA, so I had to move to the shithole I’m now. A mini studio in a building so old that if the city trembles, I’m sure that I will be turning into dust.

Years in this life, day after day, and I wasn’t mad about it. I was free, after all. It took about two years for my parents to find out that I wasn’t the prodigious child anymore and they took better than I expected. My mom cried, cursed my name, and asked if someone hurt me but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was the one who caused it.

Anyway, you already know this stuff. They told you their side of the story when letting you know that I would be your new patient. What exactly have they told you? About how I never introduced them to a guy and my dad had a very straightforward conversation with me about why lesbians were cool and he would accept me if I was one? Maybe they told you about how I got so drunk one Christmas that end up peeing on the petunias in the neighbor’s yard and my mom thought it was a good idea to tell them I was heavily sedated from a fear of flying? Nobody said it was easy to be an only child.

What you don’t know is that I have a love life, you are welcome. For years I’ve been sleeping around with a married man. I know, I know, shocking! Scandalous! His name is Peter and he is dumb as a door. But the dick is good and he sometimes treats me like a real person. I met him at a bar, gave him a blowjob in the back alley (Katie would be proud) and we see each other every week since.

Remember when I said my family isn’t religious? Thank god because that’s not everything. I have a boyfriend, a real one. It was a scorching day, the AC wasn’t working and I had to put the neckline out a bit before becoming a puddle. That’s when I see him, playing with his friends, having fun, being so fucking broad and handsome… I had to taste it.

Flirted a bit and boom, got him at the back door pumping deep inside of me while I was sitting on a desk. He was amazing, he was making me gooey to the point of screaming in pleasure. Too good to be true, when he was about to come I saw the little golden cross pending from his neck.

The next day he came back, told me how sorry he was, and asked me for an opportunity to show me how good he could be. I thought he wanted a second round, but nope, he wanted me to meet Jesus. I’m a people pleaser, Tess. It has been four months since I’m Mormon Isaac’s girlfriend. Every Sunday I attend the mess, his family knows me and I haven’t slept with him since that first day. It marks also the four months I’m trying to break up with him.

You must think that I ain’t a good person and you are right, I’m not. Not the worst, but for sure not a fucking saint. I don’t come back in my decisions, anyone else with less brain would, but not me. I’m stubborn and deal with the hell I made of my own life. Or used to, because now I’m head over heels for this guy, Tess.

Joel Miller. The stupid hunk who is older, wiser, and hot. Who I can’t stop thinking about since we met. Damn his pretty brown eyes and how they look into my soul. I’m a mess and I need some help dealing with it before he gets into my trap and I destroy him.

This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean.

You are my only hope,

The renegade

P.S. I won’t pay you shit, hope my parents paid you enough for this.

CHAPTER ONE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

Yes, I'm doing well, thank you for your concern, guess the rambling in my last letter got you worried about me. It’s a skill, I’m very good at making people worry. I'm marvelous, splendid, and well, fucked. By our last session, you asked me more details of how I ended up meeting Joel and I said to you “a lady never tells” and you didn't laugh, tough crowd. Let me paint you a picture then.

There are many regulars at the arcade. The asians dudes that go there after Kumon (been there, done that, I feel so sorry for them), the lone wolves of 40+ that still want to feel young since they can't get any pussy and, my favorites, the after-school reruns.

These little fuckers go there every week to burn some steam from their sugary-inflicted bodies, stay until 4 pm and go straight to their houses, to their mom and dad. I'm not bitter, I just hate teenagers.

I'm aware that it sounds like I'm on the wrong career path since they keep my economy going, but fuck it, teenagers give me the creeps. Except for the queers, they are quite nice. I have a baby lesbian (it’s pretty obvious) that I call 3 pm because she comes by this time twice a week, Ellie.

She is probably fifteen or so and everything I wasn't at her age. Firecracker, bossy with a dirty mouth – did I ever tell you that the first time I said “fuck” in front of my parents was after my meltdown? You can get it. One of the only teenagers I got close to if I'm honest. She came by one afternoon, saw Mortal Kombat II, and hasn't left since.

“Who's The Renegade?” She asked me one time, checking out the scoreboard with disgust. Remember I beat the machine record? She was right after me.

“No clue, try harder.” I teased her thinking she wouldn't care and move on with her life, like people do.

But not Ellie, she tried really hard to break the fucking record. Week after week, I watched her trying her best from my glass display while wearing the ugly bowling striped shirt that is my uniform.

I saw him way before he saw me. Doing my regular afternoon routine, cleaning the games with some rubbing alcohol to avoid the sticky hands infecting everywhere, minding my business under the neon light. All good, until I saw broad shoulders (I have a type, okay? Sue me) playing the fucking Mortal Kombat II with Ellie by his side.

Broad, so fucking broad. Dark curls with some gray here and there adorning his ears. I must have made some noise because for a second he looked back and that nose? Yeah, that was the end of me.

“You were close, old man,” Ellie teased as the fight on screen got to an end. He glared at her before looking at his score. “Nah, you're full of shit. Not even close to me or The Renegade.”

“Yeah, if I was spending that much time here I would be second place too,” he groaned before gaining full height. That voice gave me chills as I pretended I haven't heard shit, trying to not sneak a look and failing every time.

And that was it, Tess. Not exactly your meet cute, sorry. He came back maybe three or four times, always polite, nothing else. I thought it would be a silent crush, a small one until I got bored. I’m constantly bored.

My second job is a little less orthodox, if you can call my first one that. A girl has to do what she has to to get that bag. On Christmas, I’m the Santa helper with a mini skirt and sweet smiles (you can imagine how many times I picked up bored dads like that), by Easter, I’m your lucky bunny hopping around in white hot pants, when Thanksgiving is around the corner I’m the sluttiest turkey you ever saw.

The mall manager pays me double because I let him once see my boobs and the poor guy is so lonely that he is more than sure that we will sleep together at some point.

“A vest with “can I help you?” tagline? Where is the skanky clothes?” I asked him one Saturday morning, thinking he made a mistake giving me the day costume.

“We’re getting more boomers and older visitors, we need someone to stay in a good floor spot and answer their questions,” he told me in a boring tone, the sadness in his eyes always a classic.

“Okay, if they ask me questions, what do I do? I don’t know shit about this mall except that you can buy powder by the public telephones and shouldn’t use the ladies bathroom on the second floor, that’s where Nora from Chipotle goes and that woman’s ass is rancid.” He furrowed his brows and dragged his hand on his face, taking his time to process what I had just said.

“Just be nice and bring them to someone who will be helpful, maybe a security guard, I don’t know. And don’t use cocaine while on the job, I can’t deal with another junkie here,” he said reinforcing the vest on my hands and urging me to get out of the room.

Now would be a good time to remind you that I don’t use drugs, never did. I might be many things in this life, but not a stoner. Not because I’m prudish or think drugs are bad for you, even if they are. I’m way too afraid about getting hooked once I realize that the play-pretend reality that they induce in your brain is better than this one. I’m self-destructive, but not stupid.

So there I was, in my lime neon vest, above a small platform with a big dark blue “information” written. Thinking about anything you can imagine, my shift lasts six hours and I can’t sit down, just a fifteen-minute bathroom break. One of my worst nightmares is to be alone with the dumb bitch inside my head, that’s why I hate silence.

When was the last time you went to a mall? They used to be a big deal in my younger days, but now they are dead. It’s so fucking slow, just little packs of people here and there. Not even music playing to alleviate the tension between me and my stupid brain.

“Miss?” A small voice called, I looked to the sides and saw nobody, so they insisted. “Miss?”

I looked down on the platform and to my surprise, a toddler with big brown eyes and curly hair was calling me. Hesitating for a second, I climbed down my platform and crouched to get my eyes the same height as his, I read once that kids get more comfortable like that.

“Hm, yeah?” I asked unsure of how one talks with kids, shouldn’t he be there with an adult?

“I can’t find my uncle,” the poor kid was on the verge of tears, making me panic.

“Okay, let’s find him,” I said with very little confidence, unsure how to approach it.

Before I could think about what I would do, his hand found a place in mine, holding me like an anchor. I decided to go to the nearest security guard and hope for the best, one thing was to be a failure by myself and another was to fail a little kid.

We walked for about five minutes, the fucking mall had a small amount of guards. No fucking clue why nobody comes down there. The kid got a little tired of walking and held up his little arms, asking to be picked up.

I accepted it, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. Thinking about it now, as I write this to you, I can’t remember the last time somebody hugged me. We might need to talk about it in session.

“You tell me if you see him, okay? What does your uncle look like?” I asked still walking down the corridor, searching for the damn guard.

“Big, fluffy hair,” I laughed at how wholeheartedly the kid tried to answer it.

“Blue eyes? Dark hair?” He shook his head for the first one but nodded at the second.

Changing corridor, I saw from afar a big guy and a smaller figure talking with a guard and figured out it was the kid’s uncle. The man seemed agitated, speaking with his hands in the air. As I pressed my steps, the figures got more familiar. Made a signal for the kid, showing them when we were close enough and his face lightened up.

“Uncle Joel!” He shouted happily, as I put him down so he could run to the tall man.

That’s how I found out his name. Simple, discrete, direct. Jo-el. Suits him.

He immediately hugged the boy, kissing the top of his head. Ellie was at the side getting color back on her face, unshed tears in her eyes when she noticed me.

“I know you,” she started and I panicked a little. I don’t know why, I wasn’t doing anything weird, but something about breaking their bubble made me uncomfortable.

Joel looked up from his nephew’s face and furrowed his brows, not in a “who the fuck are you?” kinda way, more of a “wait, I do know you too”.

“Hm, yeah, I work at the arcade down the block,” I said in a monotone, looking into Ellie’s eyes, ignoring Joel’s.

“Are you safe? All good?” Joel asked in a soft tone, much softer than I imagined a man like him could do, to the kid.

“Yes,” the toddler replied searching for my hand again. My eyes got to the size of the moon, unaware of how to react.

“Thank you for helping him, we were about to lose our heads searching for him everywhere.” Joel gave me puppy eyes in his dearest manners and every inch of my body heated as he got up, gaining his tall size.

A grown, big man being soft on the edges? The hottest thing I’ve seen and I fucked once Mormon Isaac.

I was ready to get back to my platform when Ellie shared stares with Joel, a language I hadn’t properly been introduced to in my formal education, but I think I can decipher:

Ellie looking straight, then bringing her eyebrows up - say something, Joel

Joel furrowing his heavy eyebrows and pouting a little, before looking towards the exit - no, let’s go home

Ellie rolling eyes and siding it in my direction real quick - she is right here, do something

Joel setting his jaw and looking directly at Ellie - I said no, let’s go home

Ellie narrowing her eyes and then nodding to the toddler - how did we got him back?

Joel glancing at his nephew, Ellie, and me before pouting a little bigger - okay, fine, you’re so annoying

Mind you I’m not a linguist in any way, I might have translated something wrong since I’m not fluent and the whole scene lasted no more than two seconds. I was highly confused when he put his hand on the toddler’s shoulder (mind you, who was still holding my hand) and cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry? It would be a pleasure having you with us,” he proposed in his most southern polite voice. I laughed a little, stupid bitch.

“That’s not… Necessary. Really. It’s okay!” I replied quickly, awkwardly trying to walk back. The kid’s hand grip got stronger.

“C’mon, stay. It’s the minimum I can do,” Joel insisted with another puppy eye.

“I used to g-get lost too, in the mall, you know? It’s okay! It’s just a full circle moment, but thank you!” I lied.

I was a prodigious child, way too smart for my age, and for sure not roaming around in a suburban mall. My parents weren’t strict, but they had a very clear vision of what was cool and what was trashy. Read in my room, go to museums and cinema exhibitions of foreign movies that I was able to watch without the subtitles? Hot and cool. Go to the mall, watch blockbuster movies, and eat a burger at the food court? Suburban and trashy. I got lost once at a library, though.

“He won’t stop giving you the puppy eye until you accept, c’mon,” Ellie replied gaining a double glare from me and Joel, who – in all truth – was still giving me puppy eyes.

“Some pizza wouldn’t hurt,” I said with an awkward lopsided smile.

The duo stared at each other again, now that I had more familiarity with the language I think I can get better translations:

Ellie shotting up her eyebrows and inclining her head towards the front of her body - told ya, old man

Joel sighing before eyeing the food court direction - lead the way, brat

“Let’s go, Luke,” Ellie grabbed the kid’s hand from mine and started to walk.

“One sec,” I said before taking off my vest and placing it in the security guard’s hand, who looked at me puzzled. I would find a way out of trouble with the manager later on. “Okay, all good!”

“So… The arcade and the mall, you must be good with teenagers,” Joel started nodding in Ellie’s direction. He said in such a genuine matter that it took me back, not a single harsh reply in my brain.

“Not really, it’s more of a coincidence. I try to avoid them a little, though. They could shatter me with one comment.” I laughed a little, trying to break the awkwardness between us. He smirked a bit.

“I get it, Ellie likes to remind me that I’m no longer hip. Do people still use this word?” He asked chewing his cheek and I chuckled.

“I’m not sure. Maybe no? We are very much 20th-century material,” he smiled.

Do I like to think it was because I hinted that I was old enough to drink, so old enough to fuck him? Yes. But I regretted it the moment that thought appeared in my head.

Don’t get me wrong Tess, even if I’m a slut I wasn’t trying to fuck Joel Miller when we got alone. It’s more of an old habit, a second skin. When I got the conclusion men were little needy bitches, I got laid often.

You pretend to be stupid and praise them on their big brain. Maybe they prefer it when you are a hopeless girl who needs a strong man to solve something that your small body can’t. Or, the classic, they just want a shy girl who has no idea of how pretty she is and is more than grateful that he is there to show her.

Men are simple creatures. The more you make yourself smaller and dumber, the more they want you. Nobody wants an opinionated woman who knows her worth, that isn’t sexy. It’s a sin being a woman who is not sexy all the time.

Something inside of me knew Joel wasn’t trying to pick me up. He was just an older guy with a life set and a family of his own, he wanted to be nice to the girl who helped his nephew.

“Your nephew is a sweet kid, very affectionate,” I said in a genuine tone, trying to clear a bit of my head.

“A good kid too, smart for his age. He will be three in a couple of days,” Joel's face lightened up talking about the toddler. I wondered if someone’s face ever got so bright thinking of me.

“Growing up fast?” I asked trying to keep up, I don’t much about raising kids except that parents feel like everything is way too fast.

“Yes, but there is a long way until he becomes a petulant teenager like Ellie,” he joked with tenderness.

“She is cool, just the right amount of sassy in her bones. Her friends too, they are well-behaved down the arcade,” I said thinking about the times I saw her with other weird teenagers there.

“Really? Good to know her friends treat her well, she needs that,” he replied quickly. I lost him for a second and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Why?” Could I sugarcoat my curiosity a bit? Of course, but my initial awkwardness was opening space for a comfortable conversation and I’m bad at calculating risk.

“We just moved, right before the school year. I’m from Austin, but Ellie no, she is from Boston. We lived there for a few years before moving back. Is tough to be the new kid, you know.”

The soft around the edges came back. I started to wonder how I never noticed Ellie’s accent, but it made sense.

“And why did you come back? Work?” I asked, again, without thinking further. Joel scratched his scruff while pondering how much detail he would give me.

“Boston got too heavy. Bad memories, you know? She needed a fresh start and I was missing the Texas sun.” My eyes searched for a ring on his hand for the first time, but there was nothing to see. Maybe a bad divorce? A widow?

“In that case, welcome home, cowboy,” I said mimicking holding a tip of a cowboy hat to him, who smiled a bit.

When we arrived at the food court, we went straight to the only pizza option available, the fucking Pizza Hut. The mall is shitty, if you haven’t noticed it yet Tess.

Ellie ordered everyone’s pizza as if she were introducing us to a new, exotic cuisine. Joel got amused, looking at her adoringly while petting his nephew's curls. I allowed myself to imagine what if my weekends were filled with this domestic view, if I would be happy to live such a mundane life and got surprised when the response was positive.

“Will you finally tell me who The Renegade is?” Ellie joked with a hint of truth. Joel rolled his eyes in good fun.

“A lady never tells,” I winked at her and Joel grinned with a little laugh. You see Tess, when you make a joke this is how people react, not scribbling something down their therapist's notepad. Rude as fuck.

The pizza could be better, but the company was more than good. I found myself laughing at Ellie’s puns, making comments about the arcade regulars. Joel tried to make me laugh a few times too, like an old friend. I felt good, felt normal instead of the constant weight on my shoulders.

At some point during our little chit-chat, I furrowed my eyebrows.

“How did Luke get lost? You haven’t told me that.” I questioned both of them, Ellie’s cheeks got pink. Joel made a motion for her to speak.

“Joel went inside a store and asked me to wait a little with Luke, to keep an eye on him for a second while he got something. I know,” she looked into his eyes with a guilty stare, “that I must hold Luke’s hand whenever we’re in a public place. I didn’t, started to look into a window shop thinking he was by my side.”

“It’s okay, you were holding tight to his hand on our way here,” Joel assured her.

If that man couldn’t get any hotter, he didn’t hold the weight of her mistakes against her. I swear that I don’t have daddy issues, I might have a Peter Pan syndrome or shit like that, but my dad was quite nice for a stuck-up guy. I’m not comparing dads, I’m comparing how to deal with delicate hearts: in that couple of hours I got to know a little more of them, I saw how Joel didn’t hold Ellie back, tried to shape her into something he wanted. Even inside of my own body I can’t do that with myself, be this level of kind.

I think Joel got me when it crossed my mind that I could fuck up and, maybe, he would still like me. I wouldn’t be a bitch, a bad girl to him. I would be just a person who made a mistake and he would still be there. What if my main kink is to be loved?

He paid for the meal, of course, a southern gentleman. I said goodbye, hinting I would be there when Ellie decided to show up at the arcade and she replied with a “hell yeah”. They left and I sighed, so light as if I had a spa day, but nope, just a good time with nice people. I might be lonely.

In a snap of fingers, I met the mall manager who questioned me why I wasn’t at the platform. The weight of the world came back on my shoulders, I reasoned that I was tired and wanted to go home as fast as possible.

“A kid got lost and I went to help him find his family. I think the slutty outfit might be a better idea next time, this shit is too complex,” I said shrugging before flashing him again with my boobs for a few seconds.

What? I had a nice meal with a good family, but I’m still not a saint.

Anyway, life followed its course. Saw Ellie sometimes at the arcade, Joel would greet me by name whenever he was there to pick her up, all good and normal. I told you, this is not your meet-cute story.

If you are wondering, yes, I saw Mormon Isaac the next day after the missing kid incident. Holy Sunday, couldn’t skip.

I don’t have exactly a wardrobe that screams “SLUT!”, but the vibe isn’t exactly good southern mormon girl. Jesus just wasn’t my thing growing up. My parents were a little paranoid about the christians, we avoided them at all cost. I had to thrift some stuff to attend Sunday preaching with Mormon Isaac.

It was so boring, every single Sunday. Thank God the pastor would scream from time to time on his speech, the only thing waking me up. Mormon Isaac, strangely as it seems, wouldn’t try to grab me a little here and there while we were inside the church.

“Are you okay?” I asked him once when he audibly swallowed when I touched the inside of his thigh when the pastor was speaking, or whatever.

“Yes. Please, not here, sweetheart,” he urged me and I rolled my eyes.

Every. Fucking. Sunday. For. Four. Months. He would only give me a peck after church, always in front of his family, if his parents weren’t making lunch he would drive me home and that’s it.

Sometimes we would do other stuff too. He would take me to the cinema to see a movie, always under PG-13 though. I would try to jack him off and he wouldn’t allow me, I once tried to give him a blowjob and he said he was waiting for the right time. We fucked rough in the staff room and now I was a pervert, make it make some sense.

You can imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an afternoon, Mormon Isaac appeared from nowhere at the arcade.

“Guess whose four-month anniversary is today?” He asked me while holding a box. I have no idea how to pray, but I know that I prayed for every single entity in the sky for a surprise break up as a git.

“Wow, lucky me,” I said with a fake smile. If my job was boring that afternoon, it was about to become much more boring.

From the corner, I saw Ellie picking up her backpack from the floor as I opened the box. A deep voice greeted my name and I got cold.

Mormon Isaac was looking at me like he was the best boyfriend in the whole world. Joel appeared to be curious, getting close to the glass display I call my office.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” he said looking at the bible in my hands. A fucking bible. Damn you, Mormon Isaac.

“She attends the Sunday preach every week,” Mormon Isaac promptly corrected with his most polite smile. I wanted to die.

“Thank you very much, I will cherish it.” I smiled back, looking into Joel’s eyes with a silent rescue request when Mormon Isaac glanced at his phone.

“See you tomorrow-,” he started and I cut it before he could finish that thought.

“For the bible study, yes. It will be a pleasure,” I said faking another smile, Joel looked so confused and amused by the whole situation. Mormon Isaac grinned so hard that I thought he was about to cum in his pants.

“That’s fantastic! I will let my mom know!” He said before grabbing his phone and walking out, leaving me and Joel behind.

I sighed and dropped my head into my arms, right at the bible. Joel's laugh, I sound I grew to adore, echoed and I glanced up from my arms.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in good fun, looking at how distressed I was.

“You do me a favor: never, I said never, open the door for a Jeovah’s witness. I accepted one preach from this mormon customer and now he plays rehab with me,” I said avoiding the fact that the said mormon was my boyfriend on the following day we would meet for a date.

“I will. Do you need an excuse for bible study?” He asked me looking somewhere behind me like he was forming a plan inside his head, both hands on my glass display while Ellie waited.

“Does it involve religion or any kind of cult?” I half-joked. Half because if hot Joel said he wanted me to go to any kind of religious ceremony I would have another panic attack and leave.

Joel looked to Ellie, who looked back at him and both nodded. This time I can’t translate, sorry, I’m still in the process of getting the language's grammatical structure.

“Tomorrow is Luke’s birthday. Surprise party. You don’t want to break the poor’s kid heart, c’mon,” Ellie said faking seriousness. Joel nodded back.

“There will be food?” Ellie confirmed. “Booze?”

“Do you like beer?” Joel asked, also in fake seriousness. Except that his death stare made me fucking wet.

“Pass me your phone so I can give you my number, text me the address,” I turned my palm up to grab the said phone, he smirked and Ellie laughed.

And this, Tess, is how I met Joel, got my little heart full of him just to let him slip into my life. What can I say? I never wanted to save a horse more than the moment he lassoed me.

I think you have more than enough material for our next session already. I will give you that yes, I speak more about what is inside my head like this. I think it might be because it feels strangely similar to submitting a paper, you know how much I love being the teacher’s pet.

Don’t forget: I can’t fall in love with this guy,

The Renegade

P.S. In case it isn’t obvious, I don’t have daddy issues. I DON’T. I know what it looks like, but I don’t have it. Don’t even try.

next chapter

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