#i'm very fine about this story obviously : )

[thatswhatsushesaid]

psa that the day there are no jgy stans left on tumblr dot com is the day i am dead

but rest assured i'll go to my grave exactly as i lived: obnoxiously proclaiming to everyone within earshot how great lianfang-zun is. narratively, metaphorically, spiritually. sexually, too, like why limit myself. i like to keep my options open

#the spirit of su minshan possessed me for a minute there but like. i'm fine with it #jin guangyao #he did crimes??? good for him 😌 #editing this post to add that while the tone here is clearly joking #i really am fundamentally still engaged with this fandom #and with this book #almost exlcusively because of my enjoyment of jgy #even xiyao is secondary for me like i love it and i'm ride or die for it obvs #but jgy as a character is the main draw for me. and he would have me by the throat even if there was no zewu-jun #(tho i think jgy's life would be more depressing for his absence obviously) #but he is just. /clenches my fists!!! #THE most compelling character in the story and i cannot stop thinking about him!! cannot will not!! #who else in this book has his range? who else can be the doe-eyed idealist AND the spy with blood on his hands who ends a war? #who else is two different greek tragedies and at least two separate shakespearean tragedies rolled into one antagonist #an antagonist who but for the POV of the novel could very easily have been the protagonist #whose moral event horizon is so deeply entwined with his own trauma and abuse that there is no way to meaningfully separate #the violence he does to others from the systemic violence that was done to him for his whole life? #who else in this book manages to get five separate sect leaders utterly obsessed with him no matter how you choose #to interpret that obsession? #no one!!! that's who!! #ain't no one else in the jianghu doing it like lianfang-zun and that's just a goddamn fact

[ragewrites]

pair of hounds named Comes-Back and Should Know Better. pair of hounds named Conscious Choice and Unconditional. pair of hounds named Run to You and Six Hundred Kilometers.

#concepts #i was thinking about those ridiculous protestant / puritan names and also guard dog archetypes and—yeah. yeahhh #six hundred kilometers is a true one actually. years ago my grand-aunt had this one dog—Dima. he'd gotten old and then during routine #the vet tech found a cancerous tumour in his bowels. she couldn't bear to watch him die so #in his endless wisdom my eldest uncle decided they should drive the dog very far away from home; make him comfortable; leave him there. #so they did. so they drove out a little over six hundred kilometers #because within a 300~350km RANGE around us they were sure he'd be able to find his way back #since he'd been going around w her everywhere his whole life #well. what do you know? Dima came back. #looking dirty and exhausted but the good boy made his way back #he lived longer than they thought he would too—for about one more year. died quietly with his head in her lap. #i'm very fine about this story obviously : )

[tardiswithadrivethrough]

i keep seeing screenrant articles and stuff (most recently) that are all "*gasp!* the toymaker has fixed continuity in doctor who by saying that actually it's all a mash up of different timelines!" and every time i'm just like yeah???? that isn't new that's literally the entire show

#el speaks #doctor who #dw 60th #google has long since figured out what I'm into #(apparently it's doctor who and archaeology and quantum mechanics in case you were wondering) #and i am occasionally a sucker for that specific kind of clickbait that's like #NEW STUDY SUGGESTS UNIVERSE MAY ACTUALLY BE TWICE AS OLD AS WE THOUGHT #where you can just take one look at the headline and go #nah #nah that's preeeeeeeetty obviously a massive exaggeration of conclusions made by a single preprint #maybe a chance that the authors would agree with the headline because they're going a little out there #but probably even they would say it's an exaggeration #the REAL exciting stem headlines are like #we found the first aperiodic monotile (it's shaped like a hat) #that's when you know you've found the good stuff #(the actual headlines about that were much less funny but I don't remember any examples because they weren't very interesting) #sometimes less interesting headlines = more interesting stories #but also sometimes i just want to read some dumb shit that's completely nonsensical but also 100% completely benign #because you know what? sometimes ya just gotta get way too into string theory and that's fine #fringe physics beliefs generally have utterly no impact on one's actual relationship to the world around them #and anyway how big can the overlap between people who care about this shit and people who believe this shit be? #wait what am i talking about now? i started out talking about doctor who #oh well #that's what the internet is for

[lliribee-go-lightly]

thinking about gorrik's line in the gyala delve meta about how the haze is causing everyone to act antagonistic towards each other, and also the way rama and yao are so kind to him after he has his own haze hallucination experience. if we're going into the haze to get fed on and relive our worst memories, these audiologs of gorrik being supported while we're asked to go back (whoops! for the good of cantha commander!) are giving us the perfect ammunition to tear into him in a combined trauma response&haze triggered antagonism attack. which would likely result in the commander being even more alone and unsupported, as rama and yao would probably say hey what the Fuck commander, gorrik are you alright???

but i'm sure it's fine ah ha it's not like the commander is already exhausted and alone or anything ^-^

#gw2 #gw2 spoilers #gw2 theories #gyala delve #gw2 gyala delve #gw2 what lies beneath #as a whump enjoyer this chapter has been absolutely Delicious #but i'm genuinly really curious about how gorrik is very obviously being supported by his friends!! #and the way it creates a hard contrast to the commander Literally Passing Out and then telling them 'yeah i just had a really traumatic #experience' and being told oh that sucks :/ welp gonna need you to go back down there! #if it comes to nothing i'll be vv sad #but it Seems like it's got shit going on #i'm quite looking forward to the next bit of story :333 i'm sure everything is going to be So Fine And Great #how's that ten years of trauma going commander..... #silvered words

[running-in-the-dark]

the most infuriating thing in a book is when there's someone who's constantly lying about things they said to the main character, things that happened and stuff like that, and it causes problems. and yet the main character doesn't at any point think to use their fucking smartphone (that they definitely own because it has been mentioned several times) to record any conversations they have.

like I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. at least write in a reason why they can't do that (phone is broken and they can't get a new one for some reason, the other person keeps surprising them in some way that makes it impossible to start recording, they can't find their phone because the other person hid it, etc.) or that the recordings are gone when they want to use them as proof (phone gets destroyed later, other person deletes recordings, etc.) or literally any reason why they don't think to do it.

security cameras are also a thing that I'm pretty sure everyone knows you can just buy for your own home at this point. they're not expensive. they're not hard to get.

honestly if this happens for let's say the fifth time and it's causing you massive problems, maybe... just maybe... you're a bit of an idiot for not at least trying to get some sort of proof.

#I have read 51 books so far this year and all of them have been thrillers and mysteries #and a surprisingly large amount of them were about someone (always a woman actually) experiencing something like this #I mean I keep reading these books so I should know what I'm getting into at this point. but somehow I still always assume this protagonist #will just be a little bit smarter at least #if there's circumstances that rule out all possible ways to record what happens that's fine! I'm happy with that! #but when there isn't it just makes me mad #you are a fully grown adult in a wealthy country in the 21st century. your circumstances would 100% allow you to do SOMETHING #but noooo that would be too difficult and the book would be over after like 5 chapters so let's just write more absolutely idiotic women #doing really stupid things :) #yes the book I'm listening to is making me very annoyed lol (but I need to know what happens so I'll keep listening anyway) #and to be clear this obviously doesn't apply to real people!! only fictional characters #real life is complicated and there's many situations where you wouldn't think of that and I completely get that #but in a fictional story it's very frustrating #personal

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

it feels really lame to care so much about a single element of cinematography but i was excited to learn sarah polley made a new movie (while other kids were watching the classic anne of green gables, i didn’t know that existed and instead was borrowing the avonlea series from my library and developing a lifelong crush that eventually meant i watched some super weird movies during my sarah polley phase). i was even more excited to find out it has an amazing female cast and digs into the tension between revenge and forgiveness. but actually watching the trailer, all i could focus on was how grimly toned it was. i know the color palette is very deliberately Like That, it’s a creative choice...but just those two minutes of sepia gray washed out tension made me so uncomfortable that i’m not sure i’ll be able to watch the movie and i’m sad about it

#is it meant to make viewers feel what the characters do? i'm sure it is #but these are women in a controlling religious community dealing with trauma #i was always going to feel along with them! so it's actually too much for me for the setting to double down #it paradoxically takes me out of the story and makes me feel the need to create distance just so i can breathe #which is fine...i may not be the target audience who knows--and filmmakers have every right to do things the way they want to #i'm just bummed because i was very briefly very excited about this #(i still love sarah polley though obviously. i'm thrilled for her that she's a director.) #(i may still try to watch it at home and see if the living room tv's different coloration changes things for me compared to my laptop) #sarah polley #women talking

[phoenixyfriend]

In honor of hbomberguy's video...

I've found a youtube response to the hbomberguy video that isn't just content hunting/recuts! And doesn't seem to be a planned thing like Todd!

Mostly because this is an academic using the hbomberguy video as a jumping off point to talk to the camera, with few edits, about how to cite your sources.

Don't Be Like James Somerton: Advice on Citations and Plagiarism by Archaeology Tube

This is a very reasonable kind of thing to see a day or two after a big story hits. Not edited in a way that's super intensive, and clearly a lecture--too happy to be a rant, honestly--that the person has locked and loaded and has obviously thought about a lot... presumably because, as an academic, it's kind of super necessary.

#hbomberguy #archaeology tube #citation #plagiarism #academia #phoenix polls

[vikkirosko]

The last story was amazing, hope you can get this one in before the holdidays, and have a nice vacation. And just a great next few months on top of that! But I was wondering ( sorry this may be long ) if you could do a headcanon of alastor, lucifer, Angel Dust, lucifer, fizz + Ozzie, and Rosie? ( sorry if that's to many characters there all just great characters ) x a reader who has CIP ( the inablility ) to feel pain? Thank you! Also how have you been?

I'm all good. I haven't had much free time lately, so I'm a little behind schedule on writing requests, but I still don't lose hope that I'll be able to finish everything before the end of the year. And how are you doing?

Headcanons CIP

🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖

You and Angel have known each other for a long time. You knew that he often got into various scuffles and always reminded him to be careful. One of the times you knew for sure that he was going to get into trouble, you went with him. You were right and helped him cope and not get hurt, but there was something that caused him concern. You were hit by several bullets, but you didn't seem to pay any attention to it at all

Only when you noticed the blood on your clothes did you say with irritation that you had ruined your favorite sweater. Angel jumped up to you, worried about your wounds, but you didn't seem to feel the pain, which you soon informed him about. That's why Angel took you back to the hotel, where he treated your wounds. You told him that you had a CIP. You haven't felt pain since you were born, even when you were human, and even in Hell, the absence of pain has remained with you

Angel was surprised that for so long he didn't know that you don't feel pain at all. You had to pay attention to little things so as not to harm yourself, for example, be careful about hot dishes, because you might not notice how hot the soup could be or how hot the cup of coffee was. Angel listened attentively to you, surprised that he didn't notice it

Angel has become more attentive towards you. He didn't constantly take care of you, but sometimes he reminded you that the food or drink was hot, that you held the knife too close to your fingers, or that you were injured. Angel understood that even if you didn't feel pain, it didn't mean that the wounds didn't hurt you, which is why he tried to take care of you at least a little

📻 Alastor x Reader🎙

Alastor found out that you don't feel pain when he noticed that you returned to the hotel with an injured leg. You weren't even limping. You just went to your room like everything was completely normal. He didn't know any other reason for this. He went to your room with a first-aid kit and you did not hide from him either your own wound or the fact that you really did not feel pain

Alastor stayed in your room while you treated the wound on your leg. You told him that even when you were human, you didn't feel pain. You assumed that at least in Hell this would change, but it turned out not to be so. Because of this, you didn't notice the wounds you could get until you noticed the blood on your clothes

The origin of the scars on your skin was now clear. He understood that you probably got these scars in Hell. On your palms, hands, and obviously not only there. You really weren't very worried about your own health, and the lack of pain only made it harder for you to take care of yourself

Alastor understood that in Hell there was much less harm from this for you. Dying in Hell was much more difficult for a sinner than when you were alive, so Alastor didn't worry too much about you. He knew you'd be fine, but he still left a first-aid kit in your room in case you needed it

💀Rosie x Reader 🌹

You were a frequent guest at Rosie's and helped her with some problems at her store. You often stayed at her house for weeks at a time, but Rosie was only too happy to spend time with you. Sometimes you came in with wounds after fights, but Rosie was sure they weren't that serious, so you didn't pay attention to it. However, when you came in seriously injured but behaved as if everything was fine, she became worried

Rosie insistently asked you to sit down and brought a first aid kit. She was in no hurry to ask questions or jump to conclusions, primarily focusing on your wounds. You didn't make a sound when she was treating your wounds, which gave Rosie certain thoughts

You honestly told her that you didn't feel pain at all. Even before your death, you had CIP and you learned to live with it, but in Hell you became more relaxed and took much less care of your own health, which led to your injury. Rosie listened to you carefully, then gently stroked your hair and asked you to be careful

Rosie didn't want you to try. She knew that you tried to be more attentive to yourself and tried to avoid new wounds. You didn't want to upset Rosie and make her worry, which is why you tried not to put yourself in danger, not even realizing that Rosie was ready to show those who would harm you why she was overlord

🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍

Lucifer knew perfectly well that you didn't feel pain. You've known each other for a long time and he often saw you after fights. You didn't pay attention to the wounds, just talked irritably about stained or torn clothes. You both knew that the lack of feeling pain had its own characteristics, so you made sure that the wounds were treated, and Lucifer made sure that no one dared to hurt you

Lucifer was much stronger than you, and when you were together, no one dared even try to look at you askance, but sometimes you got involved in fights, especially when it was the end of the year. You didn't want to hide, even though you knew you could have died. Every time Lucifer found out that you were fighting again, he watched, taking his time to intervene. It was only when he saw that you were seriously injured that he intervened

Lucifer sometimes offered to pick up personal guards for you, but you kept telling him that it wasn't necessary. Just because you didn't feel pain didn't mean you were reckless. You tried not to put yourself in excessive danger, realizing that even in Hell you could die

You didn't know how long you would be in Hell and whether it was possible to leave Hell at all, but while you were there you weren't going to let yourself die again, especially because you didn't notice any wound and Lucifer didn't mind helping you with it

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕

In your relationship, Asmodeus has always tried to take care of Fizzarolli and you. He had sincere feelings for both of you, and you responded in kind, but if Fizzarolli really tried to be careful, then you got into trouble more often. They both saw the wounds healing on you, but you always said it was just a small accident and they had nothing to worry about. This went on until you returned with bloodstains on your clothes and serious wounds that you didn't pay attention to

They immediately rushed to you, both very worried. You convinced them that you were fine, but this time it was obviously not the case. Asmodeus treated your wounds, after which he seriously asked who did it. To his question, you smiled gently and said that they were much worse off than you, so you shouldn't have worried about it. However, there was something that did not escape their eyes. It's like you didn't feel the touch of your wounds

When Fizzarolli asked you if you were in pain, you were confused and said that you didn't feel any pain at all. You've had CIP and you've never felt pain in your entire life. There used to be problems because of this, but now you have learned to avoid serious problems, at least you tried

Asmodeus and Fizzarolli weren't going to leave you alone until your wounds were completely healed. They both surrounded you with care, worrying about you, to which you laughed softly and hugged them. Even in Hell, you were able to find those who gave you the warmth that warmed your heart and soul

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss x Reader #Helluva Boss headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Angel Dust #Angel Dust x Reader #Rosie #Rosie x Reader #Lucifer Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar x Reader #Fizzarolli #Fizzarolli x Reader #Asmodeus #Asmodeus x Reader

[lovingmattysposts]

Quiet 5

P1 P2 P3 P4 P6 P7 P8

pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo

summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk.

warnings: mentions of being scarcely thin, mentions of lack of food, toxic household

—————————————————————

Matt and I walked out of his room back into the living room where Chris and Nick were still talking.

"You don't know her Chris"

"Neither do you! I'm just saying that--"

I cleared my throat and they both haulted their conversations and turned to us. I looked over at Matt who held a firm gaze on them, his eyebrows low. I swallowed and shifted on my feet suddenly feeling very unwelcome.

I turned Matt.

"Hey, I'll see you tomorrow right?" I mumbled hugging my arms to myself. Matt broke his gaze on his brothers and turned to me. He just blinked at me for a second and then pushed off his feet and walked up to Chris.

Chris looked down at him. Matt pulled out his phone before typing something out on it and showed it to him. Chris glanced over the screen and looked up at him.

"Why?" He asked. I just looked between them as Matt typed on his phone again and brought it up to Chris's face. Chris looked to Matt and shook his head. Matt glared at him.

What was going on?

Matt typed again. Chris looked at the phone. Chris glanced over to me and my eyes widened.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" He asked unenthusiastic at me. My mouth opened and I looked at Matt who wore a sympathetic glance. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt goosebumps appear on my arms.

"Uh, No it's okay" I said quickly shaking my head. One dinner with Chris and he might jump across the dinner table and strangle me. Nick stepped forward.

"Please stay. I'll cook, I'm a good cook. Matt's never complained" Nick smiled brightly at me. I blinked towards Matt who rolled his eyes. Obviously Matt never complained because he didn't speak.

I still thought it was too much, I didn't want to take their food. The sandwhich Matt gave me was too much in the first place. I shook my head quickly.

"No, It's okay. I think....I think my dad--He is gonna pick up something. He'll be waiting on me" I lied, badly. I didn't even know when I went home if my dad would be there, let alone have food waiting for me. My stomach growled at the thought.

Nick studied my eyes.

"I'll be fine, I don't need your food" I said softly shaking my head. Chris sighed and looked at me. "Just stay" He mumbled the least condescending thing he's said to me all day. I took in a breath and looked at Matt who's eyes pleaded with me.

I swallowed.

"Uh, okay. Fine" I nodded. "Thank you" I whispered, looking between them. Nick smiled and nodded as he walked into the kitchen. Chris just shook his head as he followed. And Matt smiled at me.

I smiled back.

-

I felt eyes on me as I ate. I glanced up as I shoved yet another spoon full of food into my mouth. I set it down before meeting Nick's eyes.

"Is it good?" He chuckled at the speed of which I ate. I wiped the napkin against my face. "Yeah, I love pasta" I breathed chuckling awkwardly. Matt shook his head smiling down at his plate.

The dinner was nearly ending and I had basically licked my plate clean. I wasn't lying. The pasta was incredible. I hadn't had homemade food since my mom got sick over a year ago.

I sighed as I pushed my plate away from me and the boys around me continued to eat. I would have been self consciousabout how fast I devoured the meal, but I was too hungry to care. I hadn't eaten at all that day and I didn't know where my next meal would be.

"Did you take your medicine?" Chris looked up from his plate looking at Matt. Matt looked up from chewing and looked at Chris. He just blinked at him.

"You're suppose to take it with food" He said pointing to his plate. Matt looked away from his clenching his jaw. I just looked between them.

"Did you take it?" He asked again. Matt set his fork down and nodded raising his eyebrows, sending daggers at his brother.

"Okay, Jeez. I was just asking, don't have to get all defensive." Chris mumbled looking back down and shoving his plate away. I looked over at Matt and he stared at the table before pushing off his chair and walking towards his room.

Nick turned his head as he walked away. Chris just shook his head.

"You're not his mother, Chris. He can take care of himself, he knows when to take it" Nick glared at Chris. Nick stood up taking the plates off the table.

"He actually can't, Nick. If we--"

"Don't. We have a guest" Nick looked at me before wondering off towards the sink. Chris looked over at me. I just stared back at him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"So what's your deal?" He asked blaniently. My mouth opened as I stared at me. "My deal?" I asked pointing to myself. You're the one treating me like i'm some random bully-bitch, my mind screamed.

He pursed his lips as his eyes ran over me and all the sudden I felt like I was naked sitting in front of him, I felt so vulnerable. I shifted in my seat. He met my eyes again.

"You don't have food at home" He stated. It wasn't a question. I blinked at him and I felt my cheek redden.

"No I-I do" I nodded looking at him, crossing my arms over my chest. He blinked at me and raised his eyebrows.

Had Matt told him that? Matt didn't even really know that.

"You devoured that meal like it was going to disappear if you didn't eat it in under 3 minutes, you're skin and bones, and you're a bad liar" He tilted his head. I smacked my lips together and looked down.

I didn't know I was that transparent. I took in a breath and turned my embarrassment into anger.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to comment on women's bodies?" I breathed glaring at him. His gaze didn't lighten.

"My mother's dead"

My glared dropped and I sat up. "Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry" I shook my head. He just looked at me and sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry for being such an ass eariler, I shouldn't have--" He sighed, as If this apology was a lot for him. He glanced to the empty seat next to me.

"I misjudged you and I'm sorry" He muttered. I blinked up at him. I shook my head as I played with my fingers. "How do you know you misjudged me? You don't even know me" I mumbled. He licked his lips.

"I've never seen Matt smile so much in one sitting" He stated. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "That's how I know I was wrong" He said. I just looked at him.

Matt walked back into the kitchen and slammed the empty pill bottle in front of Chris. Chris looked up at him. Matt raised his eyebrows. Chris stood up and took the pill bottle and rattled it in front of Matt before walking off.

Matt glared at him before looking back towards me. I smiled softly up at him. I stood up before wiping my hands on my jeans. I blinked up at Matt.

"I should go, my dad's probably waiting" I stated. He wasn't. I knew he wasn't. Nick turned around looking at me. "Can I help? Before I go?" I asked as I began to walk toward Nick washing the dishes. He shook his head.

"No, you go. Thanks for coming, try not to steal anymore bandaids" He chuckled. My eyes widened as I glanced over at Matt who furrowed his eyebrows looking at Nick. I swallowed and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Yeah, I'll try" I whispered before walking towards the door. Matt walked behind me before I opened the door. He stepped outside with and I looked up at him.

"Your brothers are nice" I smiled. He tilted his head. I smiled and closed my eyes. "Nick's nice...Chris is....intense" To say the least. Matt nodded. I sighed as I looked away from the house.

"I'll go" I mumbled. "See you tomorrow" I whispered. His mouth parted as I turned from him and walked down the steps. I heard him walk behind me. I turned around and he blinked at me.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He motioned for me to walk. I turned and walked, I heard his footsteps behind me before he walked beside me. I paused and turned to him again.

"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked again. He looked up and motioned around us. To the fact that it was dark. I looked back at him.

"You don't have to walk me home" I shook my head. He just looked at me with a blank expression. I closed my eyes and sighed and turned to walk. He walked with me, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked next to me.

We walked in silence for a few minutes but I couldn’t help but feel a fire in my chest from Nick’s comment. I didn’t want Matt to know about that. The fact that I stole in general. Let alone from the place his brother worked at.

“I didn’t steal those bandiads because I just wanted to steal. I just….needed them” I defended myself. Matt looked up from the ground and his eyes burned in me.

I wrapped my arms around myself as we walked and I stayed staring at the ground in front of me.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m going to steal from you or your brothers, I would never do something like that Matt I swear—“ I shook my head. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I’m not a thief” I whispered.

I didn’t want him to judge me, but he had to have been. I mean who wouldn’t? Stealing is wrong. What I did was wrong. And I knew that. Matt probably knew that too.

He didn’t say anything but he watched me. I didn’t dare look up at him. I didn’t want to read his eyes, because I knew what they were going to tell me.

I felt him pull my arm loose from my around my body. I looked up and his hand slid into mine. I looked down at our hands and then up to him, he just looked forward.

I smiled softly. It was his way of saying:

It’s okay I’m not judging you

I smiled towards the ground.

As we approach my house I felt bad butterflies sworn my stomach. I didn't want him to see my house. My house was big enough for me and my dad, that was it. His house was big enough for an entire family. I swallowed as I stared at my shoes hitting the pavement.

But when we got there. He didn't say anything. He barley looked at my house. He just smiled as I walked into my house and then turned on his feet to walk back.

-

"Do you know Jake Andrews?"

He looked up at me holding my gaze and then looked back towards his book. He shrugged. I nodded and looked back to my book. The only sounds between us were the sounds of his pencil scrapping against the paper.

I tapped my foot as I stared ay book page. I couldn't focus. There was a hockey game tonight and I knew Jake was playing and I half-way told him that I would go. I bit my lip as I read the same words on the page over and over.

It was back then when I-It was back then when I-It was back then when I-

I tapped my foot faster.

I looked up when I felt his hand cover over on my leg, stilling the tapping. His eyes focused in on his page, his glasses swooped on his nose. He lifted his hand from my knee without looking over at me, after he stilled my tapping. My knee burned where he touched me.

"Sorry" I quickly mumbled realizing my tapping must have annoyed him. He didn't react. I set my book down realizing I wasn't getting anywhere with reading the same line over and over again.

"Do you ever go to the hockey games?" I asked turning to him. He sighed and set down his pencil and gave me his full attention.

"Sorry" I shook my head realizing he was trying to focus. I lifted my book and stuck my nose in between the pages.

He reached over and set down my book. I looked over at him and he raised his eyebrows. I brought my knees up to my chest.

"Did you know Jake was on the hockey team?" I asked. He pursed his lips and shrugged. I looked down at the table.

"He wants me to come to his game" I mumbled. Matt stared at me. I rested my chin on my knee before tilting my head towards him.

"Will you go with me? I mean--If I went to the game?" I asked him. He stared at me as if contemplation crossed his face.

He shrugged.

I swallowed and looked down. "I think he wants to be my friend" I stated. I felt Matt's gaze burn into me. I looked up at him he just slowly shook his head. "What?" I asked. He just shook his head.

"Do you not like him or something?" I asked. He sighed and shrugged, annoyance crossing his face. I sighed and picked up my book as I looked at the page.

"Well I think he's nice" I breathed. Matt looked up from his page and looked at me. I didn't turn to look back at him.

-

I smiled as I pushed the doors of the gym open. Matt followed reluctantly behind me. I pulled the jacket tightly over myself as I turned around to look at him.

"This is fun right? I've never been to a hockey game before" I smiled up at him. Blank stare. I smiled and grabbed his arm as I drug him towards the bleachers. He tensed under my touch.

I sat down and he sat next to me as the players skated on the ice in front of us. I looked over at Matt who watched the players on the ice. I shrugged the jacket off my shoulders.

"Do you want your jacket back? I think it's colder in here than outside" I chuckled as I pulled my arm out. He looked down at me and shook his head. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded and leaned back.

I pulled the jacket back over me.

"Suit yourself" I mumbled as I looked back towards the ice. My eyes grazed over the players. I spotted one with longer, flowy blonde hair. I tilted my head as he turned. It was Jake. I smiled and he glanced over the bleachers before his eyes landed on me.

He smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back. He turned before he skated in position to start the game.

"See" I leaned over to Matt. "He's nice" I smiled. He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip nodding sarcastically. I pushed him. "Don't be rude" I chuckled. He looked away.

Matt stood up and I looked up at him. He pointed towards the concession stand. I nodded and looked back towards the game. He pointed towards me. I looked up.

"I don't want anything" I shook my head. He just blinked at me for a second before he walked off the bleachers without another word, as I refocused on the game. The puck went into the air and they fought for it.

I didn't really know how hockey worked, and I didn't even know how to skate. Honestly the sport of hockey seemed hard to someone liked me. I couldn't really tell where the puck was, they moved to fast for me to see.

A few minutes passed before Matt came back and handed me an apple. I looked up at him.

"I didn't ask for anything" I said. He sighed and sat down before pulling out his phone and typing something. He moved his phone over to show me.

They didn't have any strawberries, blueberries, or blackberries.

I smiled and chuckled before remembering our previous conversation about my fruit chocies. I shook my head as I took a bite of the apple.

"You have to stop feeding me" I smiled shaking my head. “But thank you” I smiled leaning into him briefly. He just looked down at me. I lifted off of him and leaned forward. He blinked at me for a second before he opened his bottle of Pepsi.

The game wasn't much of anything. It was a back and forth of angry men hitting each other and a puck sometimes going into the goal. I would have been bored out of my mind If I wasn't thinking about what to say to Jake after the game.

If he even wanted to talk to me. If he had other friends waiting to talk to him. Not that he considered me a friend yet, but—I don't know. I pushed my hair behind my face as they skated off the ice.

Matt was quick to stand up. I looked up at him, still sitting.

"Wait, I want to talk to Jake before we go" I breathed. He let out a breath and his jaw hardened as he reluctantly sat back down. It wasn't 5 minutes later before Jake pushed out of the locker room and his eyes landed on me.

I looked over at Matt.

"I'll be right back" I stated, he didn't react. He just looked at me as I stood up and walked off the bleachers towards the boy with flowing blonde hair.

"Hey" He breathed pushing his sweaty hair back. "Hey" I smiled back. "I was happy to see you show up. I didn't think you would" He smiled down at me as he pulled his bag over his shoulder. I smiled and nodded.

"So what are you doing now? Do you want to come eat with some of me and my friends?" He breathed. I blinked up at him not expecting the sudden invitation. I opened my mouth and turned to see Matt still sitting there staring at us.

"Is that who you came with?" Jake's voice brought be back to him. I blinked up at him. "Matt? Yeah, we're friends" I nodded. He furrowed his eyebrows down at me and gave me a weird look.

"What?" I laughed lightly. He shook his head looking off.

“No, I think that's cool. It's just--" He cringed. "Does he talk to you? I don't think i've even seen that kid say a word, he's kind of like a ghost" He chuckled. I raised my eyebrows and looked at my feet.

"I mean he-" I swallowed trying to find the right words. Jake just looked down at me. I felt the pressure from his gaze. "He's a good friend" I nodded blankly. Jake shook his head and chuckled as he looked down at me.

"Is that his jacket?" He pointed to the jacket around my shoulder. I looked down at the jacket over me. "Yeah he---we're friends" I shrugged. Jake nodded and rocked back on his heels.

"Okay" He nodded. I smiled and nodded. "So? Food? Me and my friends?" He asked raising his eyebrows. The words friends rang in my ear. I really wanted to go, but I really didn't want to leave Matt.

"I still need help with that biology thing, we could go to my house after" He smiled tilting his head showing his lop-sided smile. I took in a breath as my mind raced back and forth.

Jake

Matt

Jake

Matt

Jake-

"I-" I turned around to look at Matt but he was gone. My eyes widened as I searched the crowd for a second. Fuck. I turned back to Jake.

"I'm so sorry. Can you just give me one second?" I breathed as I backed away. He chuckled and nodded as he turned. "If you wanna come, my car's out back. You know which one" He smiled before turning away.

The memory of his white leather seats washed over me and I almost forgot what I was doing. Fuck, Matt.

I turned as I pushed through the crowd of people trying to exit the gym. I wasn't that tall so I attempted to look for the brown hair I was searching for, but I couldn't find it.

I pushed out of the doors into the parking lot. I turned in circles before I saw him walking towards the sidewalk. I groaned in annoyance as I chased after him.

"Matt" I yelled. He just kept walking. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. He looked down at me.

"Matt, what are you doing? Why did you leave?" I asked shaking my head. He glanced behind me and then back down to me.

"You totally just left me in there" I laughed lightly, but slightly frustrated. He’s too good at running away and damn was he fast.

He scowled at me and shook his head before he started walking again. I followed him.

"Wait, what is your problem?" I asked glaring at him. He let out a breath and shook his head before shrugging.

"Is it Jake? Do you not like him or something?" I asked shaking my head trying to understand. He just blinked at me and then shrugged. I looked down at my feet and let go of a breath.

I turned around and saw Jake's car parked outside and a few people crowding around it. I turned back to Matt.

"He wants me to go hang out with him and his friends" I breathed looking up at him. Matt didn't turn to look at the group. His face didn't even change, but his eyes did.

"I wasn't gonna go but-"

He sighed and looked behind me and motioned towards the group. I turned and looked at the group.

"Y/n!" I heard Jake's voice. He waved me over. I looked back at Matt. "Do you care?" I whispered. He paused before shaking his head. I swallowed tapping my foot.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" I said. He just looked at me and then shrugged. I gave him a smile before turning and walking towards the group.

Then, I paused before walking back over to Matt quickly.

"Matt, wait" I breathed. He turned and looked at me raising his eyebrows, slightly smiling. I shrugged off the jacket.

"Your jacket" I said as I held it out for him to take. His expression became unreadable as I took the jacket out of my hand.

"I'll..see you" I gave a small smile. He stared blankly at me as I turned around and walked away.

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

[c-is-for-circinate]

It feels like there's this narrative that fandom keeps wanting to explore, with Steve Harrington, about this very specific type of martyrdom where self-sacrifice is an expression of a lack of self-worth. And, like, yes, write the narrative that's meaningful to you, and yes ok Steve does admittedly get beaten up a lot, but -- legitimately I do not think this narrative is actually Steve's story.

Like, without gendering things too much, there is something in the Steve fanon that I keep seeing that's so reflective of the specific kind of sacrifice and societal pressures exerted on girls, specifically -- this story of 'you make yourself worthy and worthwhile by carving pieces out of yourself', of believing that you must always give and never receive to justify the space you take up in the world. Yes, boys can experience this same pressure (and obviously trans and nb people of all genders run into it as well! sometimes a lot!), but especially in the mid-1980s cultural context where Stranger Things takes place, it's just...really not likely to be a dominant narrative for Steve to be operating under? It doesn't even really match the Steve we see on screen -- who is happy to make sacrifices for the sake of others, yeah, when needed, but who's not particularly kind or giving unless somebody asks first.

And Steve does get hurt a lot on other people's behalf! And this is a problem! It's just a completely different problem than the one fandom keeps writing.

Steve, and I'm going to say this forever, is a story about toxic masculinity, which the show may or may not even know it's writing. The archetypes influencing Steve's character as it shows up on the screen (and the stories and messages that Steve would actually be surrounded by in his actual life) are not deconstructions of suffering heroes who never should have had to fight in the first place and were destroyed by it. That's the Buffy the Vampire Slayer story. Steve's not Buffy. Steve's cultural context is Indiana Jones.

Steve is The Guy! And part of being The Guy is that you're expected to take the hits -- not because Steve is less important than the women-and-children he's supposed to protect, but because, the story says, he will get less hurt. Why should Steve get in between Billy and Lucas? Because Steve is an eighteen-year-old athlete and Lucas is in middle school, and of the two of them, Steve actually stands a chance. (And yes, Steve got badly hurt there, and Max had to save him -- but if Lucas, if Max had taken that beating they would not have been running through those tunnels later.) Was somebody else better-qualified to dive down to the uncertain bottom of a cold lake in the middle of the night? Steve doesn't list his credentials there as a way of justifying some ideal of martyrdom; he is literally the most likely person on the boat not to drown.

And make no mistake: when Steve's pulled into the Upside-Down, he survives the bats long enough for backup to get there. Realistic or not, he's apparently tough enough that he's physically capable of hiking barefoot through hell without much slowing down. Steve is the tank for the same reason as any tank: because he literally has been shown to have the most hit points in the group. You cannot honestly engage with Steve in this context without dealing with the fact that he's right.

AND THIS IS A PROBLEM! This is still a problem! But it's not the same problem that fandom seems to expect. It's not an expression of caretaking or the need for self-sacrifice; it's not an issue with Steve valuing himself less. It's an issue of toxic masculinity so ingrained that Steve doesn't even recognize he's suffering from it, because one of the tenets of toxic masculinity is that Big Strong Guys don't suffer. It's just a concussion, it's fine, he'll walk it off. It's not that Steve thinks he deserves to get hurt, or even that he's less deserving of safety than the others. It's that absolutely nothing in his cultural context allows him to admit that he can be hurt in a significant way.

There's still so much tension that can be gotten out of this situation, I swear. There's so much that can be explored in writing! Hell, the show itself is deconstructing some of this trope, believe it or not, by giving us a Steve who absolutely can take all the hits thrown his direction but still doesn't know what the fuck he's doing with his life. It turns out that doing his job as The Guy is only mildly helpful in horror movie situations (mostly by buying time for smarter, squishier people to do the damage from behind him), and somewhere a little worse than useless in everyday life.

But Steve does not go out of his way to self-sacrifice, he really doesn't. He just does his job. He's The Guy. Of course he's not going to let a kid or a girl or some scared skinny nerd who just learned about monsters yesterday take the hits. Of course Steve's got this.

#Stranger Things #do I dare character-tag this #does this count as an Unpopular Opinion if I'm calling out fanon #eh let's be bold #Steve Harrington #and #toxic masculinity #which is apparently just A Thing I Post About Now

[greatooglymooglyyy]

My Tears Ricochet (Matthew Sturniolo)

contains: verbal argument, cheating allegations, crying, breakup, no happy ending, 1.5k words

a/n: honestly i'm sorry for this one. ouch. i said it alr but im not doing a part 2 for this one b/c i don't wanna lmao, the song is how writing this made me feel lol, requested by @nicksmainbitch and i took parts of an anon request

“We need to talk.”

I look down and study the message for maybe the hundredth time since Matt sent it an hour ago. Taking a deep steading breath, I kill my car engine and finally open the door. I’ve been sitting in his driveway for ten minutes now and it’s getting pathetic but I couldn’t help it. There’s nothing I hate more than a cryptic message, especially from Matt.

I use my key to let myself in the house, kicking off my shoes at the entrance, and pause when I notice how quiet it seems. Either Nick and Chris aren’t here or something is very wrong but my gut is leaning towards both. I pull out my phone to check their location but my heart drops when I realize all three of them aren’t showing up on Find My Friends.

Okay. It’s fine. Probably just a glitch. It has to be. I take the stairs two at a time and rush into Matt’s room, finding him with his head down at his desk.

“Matt?” I say quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder that he immediately jerks away from like I’ve burned him.

He lifts his head, spinning the chair around my way, and the look he gives me is like a stab to the heart. Because in all the years I’ve known Matt, in all the years I’ve loved him, he’s never looked at me like he’s looking at me now. Like he can see right through me. Like I’m no one at all to him.

“How long?” He asks calmly, his voice like a brewing storm. “Just tell me that. How long have I been a fucking idiot for?”

I stare back at him silently for a minute, caught between confusion and indignation. “What are you talking about?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head before he tilts it up to the ceiling. “Listen. Tell me the truth. If you tell me the truth, I can try…” He stops and clears his throat like the words have jammed there. “I love you enough to try to get over it. But, if you lie-”

“What the fuck are you accusing me of, Matthew?” I snap, cutting him off. I feel the anger rising in my chest and blink away the hot tears that are beginning to gather. If Matt and I had one thing going for us, it was trust. We’ve never touched each other’s phones, never questioned stories. We just believed in our bond. But I can feel that trust starting to crumble around us and I don’t know what to do.

Matt grabs his phone from the desk and thrusts it into my hands. “Here. Your side piece must have gotten tired of waiting.”

I look down and skim the drama page he has pulled up, my jaw going slack. Someone has been sending in “proof” that I’ve been cheating on him. There are text messages with time stamps and they’ve even included pictures of me sleeping.

I look back at Matt and find him watching my reaction with his eyes low. “These are obviously fake-” I start but Matt stands up and walks past me to his closet.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought too. Until I saw the pictures. Go ahead and tell me that’s not your tattoo.” He’s breathing heavily now and I can tell he’s trying not to cry. “One more chance. Tell me the truth. Did you fuck him?”

“Matt. Please.” I walk over to him and spin him around to face me, feeling his body tense against my touch. “You know me better than this.”

I step closer and draw him to me, wrapping my arms around his waist, and he lets me. He buries his head in my hair and breaks down. Deep body wracking sobs. So I just hold him, not knowing what to do or say. I can’t prove I didn’t send a message and I have no idea where those pictures came from or how to show him they must be old. So I’m stuck.

When he finally calms down, he pulls away from me and walks back to the desk. He drops down and slouches, defeated. “Oh my god.” His face is contorted with pain and I’m not sure if his expression or words make me sicker. “I thought you were the one.”

I stand there helpless for a minute, tears streaming down my face before I finally speak. “I can’t make you believe me. You gotta do that on your own.”

When he says nothing, I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and gather up my belongings. Before I turn to leave, I yank his house key off my chain and place it on his desk without meeting his eyes. As soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, I want to fall to my knees and cry but I push down the feeling and swing the door open.

I wait for him to say something, anything when I leave. I wait for it all the way down the stairs. I’m still expecting it when I reach my car, and I pause and listen for him to chase after me, to fight.

But he doesn’t so I drive home, drop into my bed and cry. And when he still doesn’t the next day or the next, I force myself to get up and figure out a new normal.

********************

It’s unusually cold for Los Angeles the night he comes, two months later. When I hear his voice spill through the callbox, it takes everything I have not to let my knees buckle. I’ve spent every day of the last couple of months trying to avoid hearing it at all costs.

He speaks again, begging to be let in and I buzz him up without thinking. I run to throw on some sweatpants and then stand with my arms crossed, trying to prepare myself to see his face.

It doesn’t work. Matt walks through the door like a wrecking ball and I’m caught in his wake. He stands awkwardly near the door, shifting from foot to foot.

“What are you doing here, Matt?” My voice sounds exhausted even to me. All the work I’ve done putting myself back together and here he comes toppling me over again.

“I just…” He trails off and begins pacing. “It was your ex. That fucking loser. The picture was old and he-”

“I know.”

“-fucking edited those texts. The motherfucker hit me up trying to-” He pauses finally registering what I said. “What do you mean you know?”

“He called me a few days after we broke up trying to get back together and I finally remembered the picture,” I say, not letting myself look away like I’m dying to.

Matt freezes at this, staring at me in disbelief, before he pulls out a chair from the table and flops down. “But… why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“How did you expect me to do that? Go to Apple headquarters and ask them to unblock me? Email Laura?” I seethe.

“You could've come over. You should have! It changes everything-”

“It changed nothing for me. I already knew I didn’t fucking cheat on you.” My voice cracks slightly but I shake my head. If my mom taught me one thing, it’s to never cry over a boy to his face.

Matt says my name so softly I almost don’t hear it and I cut my eyes back to his. “What do you want me to do? I will do whatever you need to fix this.”

I huff out a humorless laugh at how much I wanted those words and how empty they sound now. “You don’t get to do this to me.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go.” He says and I believe him. I don’t think he’d even hesitate.

“I can’t.” Matt stands and advances quickly toward me but I stop him with a hand on his chest. “But, it doesn’t matter. I don’t trust you.”

He winces, clenching his jaw. "I thought you fucking cheated on me! I thought you were throwing everything away.”

“So you threw it away first.”

He raises his voice now, anger and conviction mixing in his tone. “No! I thought all of that and I was still going to stay. That’s how much I wanted you. That’s how much I love you.”

“Then that’s the difference between me and you.” I breathe out a shaky breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t think that’s love at all.”

His breathing stutters as he moves backward, studying my face. “So that’s it?”

I force myself to shrug. “I think it’s been it. Since the day I walked out of your house crying and you let me.”

He nods again slowly, whispering a quiet "I'm sorry", before turning and heading for the exit. But before he leaves, Matt pauses looking over his shoulder. “Do you think we got this right somewhere in the multiverse?”

I smile weakly, blinking back my tears. “God, I hope so.”

He returns my smile with a sad one of his own before he opens the door and steps out of my apartment for the last time.

When the door clicks shut, I hold my breath and count to five until I’m sure he’s far enough away. Then I let go, dropping to my knees and finally letting myself fall apart.

taglist:

@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo oneshots #chris sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo x reader #maggie b writes #Spotify

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 | neil lewis x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a visit to gumshoe video could go one of two ways... but one way or another, you're gonna get him.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | varies

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, nothing too terrible just neil and reader bullying each other

this is a choose your own ending fic!! after the introduction, click to choose which way you want the story to go! each ending will have its own warnings section, so read those as well!

Technically, you always dressed well for work.  Corporate jobs require professional attire, obviously; but you were slightly overdressed today, and it wasn’t to go into the office.

Tight skirt and matching blazer, a silky-satin button-up, black heels, and thigh-high stockings with a seam up the back.  No, this wasn't how you dressed for a day in the office… this was how you dressed when you were closing a deal.

A little bell dinged as you walked into Gumshoe Video, and you looked around for a moment after you stepped inside: the decorations were… plentiful, and kitschy.  The displays were so small, and just a quick glance at some of the shelves had you frowning in confusion.  These are some seriously deep cuts… how do they make any money at this place?

Lucien came bounding up to you in an instant, hands pressed tight against his horribly out-of-fashion skinny jeans as if to hide that they were clammy already.  "Do you, uh, need help finding anything?" he asked.

You offered him a pitying smile, about to offer him a friendly ‘no thanks, but’ and then tell him why you were really here… but you were interrupted.

Jonathan, who had taken a break from sipping on a soda behind the counter, coughed to get Lucien's attention as he quickly shook his head.  He didn't seem to understand, though, looking back at you with his brows furrowed.

"Uh, ignore him,” Lucien laughed nervously.  “Are you looking for a rental?"

"Dude, she's not here to get a movie!" Jonathan snapped.  "Who dresses like that to pick up a tape?!"

"Maybe she's on her way to work!" Lucien returned sharply. "Or maybe she just came from somewhere!"

"Where?"

"My dreams!"

"No, your friend is right, I'm not here to pick up a movie," you admitted, and Lucien looked at you nervously.

"You, uh, don't like movies?" he wondered.

"I love them actually, but—"

The door to the office swung open, with Neil glaring at you from the other side of it.  "You," he announced with disdain.

"—but I'm here to speak with the owner," you finished, tilting your head and grinning at Neil.

"We have nothing to speak about," Neil assured you as he walked towards you.  

"We have multiple opportunities to discuss," you disagreed, "and my employers are very anxious that I deliver this message to you, so if we could please speak in your office—"

"Her employers?  Is this chick in the mob?!" Lucien blurted out fearfully.  "Neil, I know money's tight, but— oh fuck, was that 'small business loan' just a cover—"

"She's not from the mafia," Neil sighed.  "They actually have some morals."

You extended a hand to introduce yourself to Lucien.  After your name, you told him your job: "Head of Acquisitions, Media Giant, LLC."

Jonathan coughed again, poorly covering the sound of him saying "blood-sucking harpy" under his breath.

You smiled at him; "You really should get that cough checked out," you suggested pointedly.

“Whatever it is your puppet-masters want you to discuss with me,” Neil began, wiggling his fingers as if pantomiming a little marionette show, “you can take right over there into our women’s restrooms and shove directly up your ass.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” you smiled, “I bet you’ve been saving that one since our last little visit.  Can we go to your office now?”

“No, you can’t go in there— we just had the priest come by and bless it, we wouldn’t want your feet to burn now, would we?” Neil snarked in return.

“Fine— get it out of your system,” you encouraged.  “Say whatever’s been stuck in that pretty little head for the last month waiting for me to come back, and then we can have our meeting, alright?”

“I— well, uh—” Neil stalled, looking a little flustered as he suddenly leaned on a shelf of tapes with one hand.  “You think I’m pretty?” he mumbled nervously, running his free hand through his hair— only to put a little too much weight on the shelf and nearly tilt it over, having to scramble to catch it and make sure it was balanced again.

“Dude, pull yourself together,” Jonathan snapped at him, and Neil glared at him before looking back at you.

“Fine, okay— we can have a very brief conversation in my office,” Neil offered with a sigh, motioning for you to follow him, “but it’s going to go the same way it did last time: with me telling you hell no and you having to do the walk of shame back to your headquarters.”

“Looking forward to it,” you smiled, waving goodbye to the other men before stepping into Neil’s office as he shut the door behind you.

You watched him step around you to sit at his desk, looking at you expectantly with his legs spread and his fingers interwoven in his lap.

“Am I allowed to ask why you’re dressed like a cowboy, by the way?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, and he frowned at you as he tossed aside the hat and slipped the poncho off over his head, leaving just a much more normal outfit of jeans and a button-up underneath.

“We’re running a special on Westerns,” he explained, “it’s fun, okay?  Not that you would know fun if it smacked you on the ass and called you sweetcheeks.”

“Honey, that’s just what I call a Friday night,” you smirked as you stepped a little closer leaning against the side of his desk as he swallowed thickly.  You couldn’t just sit across from him— you needed to keep the upper hand.  “But I’m here for business.  Let’s talk business, shall we?”

“Right, business,” he frowned.  “I’m guessing your business here today is trying to buy my store, again?”

“Something like that,” you relented.

“You know, I guess I should take it as a compliment,” he grinned, leaning back further in the chair.  “Clearly, you know I’m a threat.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re a Fortune 500 company, and you’re a guy wearing a poncho.”

“I took off the poncho!” he defended.

“So you’re… just a guy, then,” you corrected.  “The point is, we’re not worried about you stealing our business at all.  We just think this location is going to waste.”

“You want the real estate?” he realized.

“You’re in a perfect spot, you know,” you informed him, “you just need… a little more help utilizing it.”

He sneered at you sharply.  “I don’t want anything from you.”

“You only hate me so much because you resent success,” you informed him with a sigh.  “Just because you’re broke and proud doesn’t mean making money is a sin.”

“It is when you put making money above everything else,” he replied, “like creativity and community and the authentic customer experience—”

“How exactly does Media Giant conflict with those things?” you scoffed.  “We’re a company founded on creativity— and we always foster community—”

“Spare me the doublespeak, Big Brother,” Neil scoffed, “you’re just a bunch of— of robots!  Your whole company, it’s just full of people trying to make a quick buck, top to bottom: you think the people in the back at McDonald’s give a fuck about food?  That’s what you are, the McDonald’s of the film industry.  You’d probably let a monkey work there if it could wear a nametag and convince someone to rent Fast and Furious Fifty or whatever the fuck.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “let’s just say for a moment that you’re right.  That my company is so terrible because we don’t employ people like you.”

He relaxed for a second, and you leaned in closer in hopes that he was really listening.

“This is your chance to fix that!” you explained.  “You can save us from the inside out, you know.  You can start from the bottom, be our best sales guy, and then it turns into a promotion and a raise and soon you’re climbing the corporate ladder— where you can make some real change.”

He shook his head, laughing a little.  “That’s not actually possible, it’s just a fantasy you tell all your little minions to keep them compliant.”

“It’s what I did,” you shrugged.

“You?” he realized with a laugh.  “You, in one of those navy vests and nametags, selling people tapes?”

“I’m sort of a cinephile,” you admitted.  “I wanted a job where I could talk about movies all day— and thanks to me, that Media Giant location rented out more copies of The Seventh Seal than all the rest combined.”

He stood up quickly, stepping closer to where you sat on his desk.  “Y-you like The Seventh Seal?”

“It’s a masterpiece,” you answered, speaking a little softer as he was so close, “Bergman is a genius.”

A strange look crossed over his face, a heavy-lidded sort of look as he examined you.  “Tarantino?”

“Overrated, but not bad,” you replied quickly.

“Tarkovsky?”

“Good, but hard to watch.”

“Lynch?”

You scoffed; “Don’t insult me.”

He laughed a little, crossing his arms and looking away from you.  “You could be one of the good ones,” he realized, “but you sold out.  And now you’re just a suit.”

“It’s not so bad,” you smirked, “I think you’d like a little more… structure, given the chance.”

“And that’s what you’re offering?” he pressed, and you nodded.

“We’ll let you keep the name, your employees… most of the decoration,” you offered, “you’ll just be technically a Media Giant franchise.  You have nothing to lose, and so much fucking money to gain.”

He sighed a little, looking at you again.  You could tell he was considering it, but not very thoroughly.  All you could do was hope for the best, and wait for an answer…

CLICK HERE FOR THE SUB!NEIL ENDING

CLICK HERE FOR THE DOM!NEIL ENDING

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #dom!neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis smut

[rougecreator1]

Beauty is Pain

|| Regina George x female reader

|| Warnings: gossip talk, hookup mention, Regina's got an attitude, light swearing, y/n use

|| Sumary: Regina's high heels have been hurting her all day. Reader notices and offers that they switch shoes.

Requests open!

~~~~

Regina would never admit it out loud, but she was exhausted. Walking around school all day in heels was never easy. Sometimes she might sneak a break in the bathroom and take them off for a few minutes. But she hasn't had the chance to do that yet. Well, beauty is pain. Isn't that what they say?

At the sound of last period bell, Regina headed for the cafeteria. Her and the rest of the plastics (including you) had planned on skipping and going shopping. Karen, Gretchen and Y/N were already seated at their usual table. Talking about any and all things gossip related as they waited for Regina.

"Oh my God! Did you hear that a jock hooked up with an art freak?" Gretchen asks, grinning as she talks about the latest gossip.

"Ew, seriously?" Regina makes her presence known as she joins them at the table, taking a seat next to Y/N who smiles and gives the blonde's cheek a kiss.

"Yes! Oh my God! It's been like all over snapchat private stories." Gretchen nods, taking out her phone to show Regina the stories," seriously not fetch."

"Gretchen! Stop trying to make fetch happen." Regina rolled her eyes, Y/N would raise an eyebrow at the blonde. Noticing how she seemed to be in a mood. Not wanting to ask out right with the girls there, she takes out her phone to text Regina.

Y/N: 'Are you okay?'

Regina glanced down at her phone in her hands when she felt it buzz. Looking back at Y/N who was watching her with a concerned gaze. The blonde scoffed and texted back.

Regina: 'Fine. Obviously 🙄 shut up'

Y/N read the text and sighed. She knew Regina well enough to know she wasn't actually fine and that her attitude was the result of something. She just didn't know what; Regina's attitude was not going to scare her away from finding out.

After chatting a little more, the girls all got up and started heading towards the front doors of the school to go shopping. That's when Y/N noticed Regina was walking slightly different. Almost like she had a slight limp? Everything fell into place and made sense.

Without warning, Y/N grabbed Regina by her arm and pulled her off to the side as Gretchen and Karen went to Regina's jeep. Too busy chatting with each other to notice Y/N and Regina stopped following.

"The hell are you doing?" Regina snapped, looking at her with a look mixed with frustration and confusion.

"Switch shoes." Y/N replied, in a tone that wasn't quite asking or demanding. It was somewhere between the two.

"Excuse me? No, I'm not wearing your sneakers." Regina folded her arms as she stared down Y/N. Y/N, however, wasn't intimidated. Something Regina found awfully annoying." Plus, you can't even fucking walk in heels. You'll just embarrass both of us."

"I wasn't asking, Gina." Y/N replied, standing her ground on this. She wasn't going to let the blonde torture herself just to make a fashion statement.

Regina was taken aback. She wasn't used to being talked back to. Who in their right mind would dare talk back to Regina George? Clearly, Y/N would. Whether it was stupid or brave, Regina didn't know. Part of her couldn't help but feel impressed by her girlfriend's stubbornness with this. Usually she would argue with her, but the blonde wasn't in the mood. So (very reluctantly) she agreed. Not without groaning and rolling her eyes first, though. Obviously.

Regina reached down, one hand on Y/N's shoulder as she took off her heels. Y/N smirked, feeling pretty proud of herself for getting Regina to agree. She places her heels in Y/N's hands.

"Thank you." Y/N takes off her own shoes and hands them to Regina, the two then put on the shoes. Y/N struggling more than Regina as she nearly falls over once both feet were on the ground. Instinctively, Regina caught her before she could and scoffs. Though she makes no effort to let go of her. Even going out of her way to link their arms together so she could support her girlfriend. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Regina when she does this.

"Don't even. I'm just making sure you don't embarrass us both." Regina mutters, glaring at Y/N. Though her tone didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to. She wasn't exactly truthful in her statement. She refuses to admit the real reason, but Y/N can tell.

With Regina's help, the two get to the jeep where Karen and Gretchen are waiting for them.

~~~

feedback and requests are welcomed :)

#mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x fem!reader #female reader #fem reader #wlw fiction #fanfic #canon x reader #x reader