#letting the world know who she was as a real teenage girl with her own interests and personality and favorite songs and teenage obsessions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samkerrworshipper · 22 days

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leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader, arsenal x reader

part 1 of beautiful girl series-> pt.2 -> pt.3

warnings: drug abuse, drug addiction, mentions of sexual assault, sexual assault, jordan and leah r broken up, basically a trauma dump, unedited, if you are not in an okay headspace this fic is not for u, based on beautiful boy

You find it hard to remember the last time you felt loved.

Not the kind of love that people tell you everyday, no, real unconditional, meaningful, purposeful love. The kind of love where a person looks at you like you single handedly hung the stars and the moon, the kind of love where it feels like nobody could love you in the same way, the same love that shakespeare wrote poems about, the same love that you know that you could never be capable of receiving.

You don’t really blame anybody but yourself, how could people love you, how could people want to love you? You weren’t a loveable person, in your opinion you were quite frankly the exact opposite.

Maybe when you were eight, when you were cute and loveable, when you had cute little piggy tails and wore pink overalls and only wanted to dance and talk about unicorns.

Maybe when you were ten and you spent every afternoon practising football in the backyard with your moms.

Maybe when you were twelve and your only aspirations for life were to win your school spelling bee and captain england just like your mom.

From then on, it all seemed like one big blur.

From 12 onwards you don’t think a lot of you was lovable, hell you hardly thought eight year old you was lovable, a tiny little orphan who had seen so much of the world and yet none of it, yet your moms had spent every single day trying to make you feel like you were and it had worked. For possibly the first time in your life, you’d felt that love, like a whole galaxy revolved around you, like no matter what happened in your life, you could face it.

It was funny how fast that feeling could fade.

It wasn’t really that surprising that you’d seeked out something to fill the hole inside of you, or at least that’s how you saw it.

It started at 14, when you were so consumed with all of the pain around you, the shit storm of broken relationships and the broken home that now replicated the same one you’d come from. Babies learnt to self soothe by being left to cry, teenagers learnt to self soothe through pain.

First it was spending as much time as possible out on the pitch with your moms, every single one of your afternoons spent practising, and any minute you weren’t on the pitch it was non stop studying.

You formed a anger for it, a pure hatred for the sport that your moms were so fond of, a sport that had brought them together and inevitably forced them apart.

At 15 you left football behind, you focused on your school, spending every spare minute on your studies, they headaches and migraines, the stress, the anxiety, it was all good, it proved that you were trying, it filled the hole inside of you.

When you were 15, you stopped caring. Your mama stopped caring, she moved 3 hours away for her own career, she didn’t have time to care about your school work, as for your mom, it wasn’t an easy job captaining the lionesses to a european championship, she had bigger problems then you.

When you turned 16, everything changed. Your mom tore her acl, Lia moved in, there wasn’t any room for you, let alone room for you to be loved. Your mama stopped visiting as often, only when it was necessary, for the first time in a while, you felt alone, truly alone.

When you turned 17, you found other ways to self soothe. Babies cried for attention, out of hope that they’d find some of that love that they were missing when they were alone. Babies cried because they had no other way of conveying the loneliness and desperate need they had for whatever they were seeking. Teenagers do stupid things in search of the same thing, love, attention and in search of something. Teenagers are stupid by default, you weren’t unbeknownst to that, the eight year old version of you though would have swore six ways to sunday that you’d never behave in the way you were, out of fear that you’d end up back where you’d come from, that you’d lose the only family that had ever showed you a glimpse of love, teenage you figured there wasn’t any more love for you, it had all been swallowed up by younger you, taken before you could really understand the magnitude of that love, before you needed it the very most.

Maybe it was the pot speaking, or the nicotine from your vape, or it was just the overwhelming cloud that always seemed to hit when you were high. It would fade eventually, it always did, all the deep emotional shit that made you want to cry would go, and you’d be left mellowed out, all of your feeling sucked out like a deep exhale, sometimes it just happened to be that you had to feel it all before you felt nothing, before the overwhelming numbness hit you and the hole in your heart was filled once again.

You flinched at the knock on your bedroom door, you were grateful enough for the warning, it had taken a lot of convincing to your mom and her best friend before they’d finally agreed to it.

You didn’t bother trying to hide your vape, the joint you had been smoking had been put out a couple of minutes ago.

“Come in.”

You stayed sat on the ledge of your window, your head hanging halfway out, the cool london winter breeze making your lips numb and your face pink.

The door opened slowly and you kept your eyes on the outside street, watching the cars drive past underneath you.

“Hey, dinners ready if you want to come down.”

You nodded absentmindedly, avoiding Lia’s eyeline.

“It’s freezing, close your window.”

You looked over at the swiss woman, a woman who was now so familiar in your home that you saw her more than the woman you called your mama.

“I’m good.”

You took a deep breath, one last inhale of the chilly air before turning to face Lia and uncurling your body, standing up and walking towards the door where she was standing.

“If you want to live in Antarctica then that’s your call.”

You try your best to suppress the eye roll, instead opting to pull your vape from your pocket and take a deep inhale, it’s not as good as the cold air but it’s something. It also helps to cover the weed scent that you’re trying to cover up.

Lia walks behind you, shaking her head at the puff of vapour that hits her right in the face as you make your way down the stairs and into the living room and then into the dining room.

Your mom is sitting at the table, fiddling with the cutlery and looking down at the meal that you know she most definitely did not cook.

It was one of the only bonuses of having Lia around, when jordan left the healthy and yummy food had turned into mostly take away and food that wasn’t cooked on a stove top because Leah had learnt her lesson after the multiple calls to the fire department.

You sat down in your normal chair, taking another hit of the vape in your hand before setting it down on the table and replacing it with a fork.

“I thought we’d talked about no vapes at the dinner table, bubba.”

You focused down at the bowl of spaghetti that was in front of you, it was the night before a game, which meant carb loading, you’d never been fond of pasta, although you supposed that had slipped Leah’s mind in the last couple of months.

“I’m not using it at the table, am I?”

You could feel the look of disapproval from your mother from the other side of the table.

You pushed your fork into the pasta, searching for a meatball instead of the pasta that you were desperate to avoid.

“Bubba I think you can put it away for half an hour every night, please.”

You pull your spare hand out of your hoodie, grabbing at the vape and slipping it into the pocket.

You focus on stabbing the meatball that your focus has locked onto, keeping your eyes downcast and focused on locating all of the saucy balls and shoving them into your mouth as quickly as possible.

Just as you’ve located and eaten all of the orbs that you can guarantee Lia made all by herself, your mom directs conversation at you once again, pivoting from whatever she was talking to Lia about,

“We’re playing in Manchester tomorrow night, you’re welcome to come with us on the bus if you want, or you could go with mumma, I think she’s planning to drive up to watch the girls. The girls haven’t seen you in a while though, Lotte has been missing you, she’s been asking me about you.”

You’d distanced yourself from your moms club teammates for a multitude of reasons, but it all stemmed down to the hatred that you had for arsenal, the love that your mom had for the club, the club that took all of her time, her teammates that saw more love then you felt you did.

“I think I'll just stay home for the weekend, mama is going to be in town anyways. Plus Maya and I were planning to do something tomorrow night.”

She was going to be in town, it didn’t mean you had plans to see her.

“Maya? Do I know a Maya?”

You tried your best not to be annoyed at your moms sudden concern about your social life.

“She’s just a friend.”

You could practically feel the eyebrow raise from the other side of the table.

“What were you and Maya planning on doing tomorrow night?”

You looked up for the first time, gritting your teeth.

“I don’t know, hang out, have some fun, nothing special. I want to see mama and I want to hang out with friends, is that not enough for me to stay home for the weekend,? It'll only be a night.”

You watched your mom collapse in, her eyes straying to the side to look at Lia.

“So it’s friends now, plural? I talked to Jord yesterday, she didn’t say that you had anything planned with her for this weekend.”

You wanted to bolt upstairs back to your room, light a joint and stick your head back out of your window and enjoy the serenity that came from it, but you held strong.

“Yes, friends, I have more than one, we’ll probably just hangout at someones house, no biggie. I haven’t talked to mama yet because I didn’t know what I was doing this weekend.”

Your moms eyebrow only raised further up her forehead, the line of hair practically melting into her hairline.

“I was a teenager once, you think I don’t know what a hangout turns into?”

You were about to rebut, answer with some snappy answer that probably would have gotten you in more trouble than you would have wanted, but you were silenced by the swiss woman sitting to your left.

“She’ll be fine Le, she’s smart, she’ll leave her location on, she won’t do anything you wouldn’t. Right?”

You nodded cautiously, a little bit shocked by the swiss woman’s attempt to help you out.

“Yes, I’ll leave my location on and I’ll meet up with mama the next morning, I’ll be responsible, I always am.”

You were grasping for anything, any reason to make your mother agree.

“Fine, but you do anything stupid, and I mean anything, then you’ll be in big trouble missy, and I want you to eat some more of that dinner, Lia puts a lot of work into feeding us.”

You swallowed the argument about your hatred for pasta, in favour of nodding your head meekly and twirling some of the noddles with your fork, forcing them into your mouth even if it made you cringe internally, it was a hard meal to swallow, but you did it for the sake of making your mother happy, something that you seemed to constantly be doing.

Once you’d eaten half of the pasta you called it quits, walking up towards the kitchen sink and cleaning out your bowl before placing it into the dishwasher and sacking it properly before closing it up.

You grasped for the vape hidden in your pocket, depserate for something to take the edge off from the conversation you’d had, the flavoured air providing a temporary comfort.

You dragged your feet back up the stairs to your bedroom, locking the door behind you and turning off the lights in your room.

Your room was cold, but you didn’t find yourself minding it.

You checked your lock for a second time, making sure it was definitely clicked shut before sliding underneath your bed frame and reaching around aimlessly for the container that was wedged into a corner of your mattress.

It didn’t take long for you to find it, your hand connecting with the rough plastic and pulled at it almost immediately.

You opened the container, forcing the lid open and picking out the bag that you were searching for.

Walking across the room in search of a card and flat surface was a mission that didn’t take long, both necessary factors found at your desk.

You opened up the bag, the answer to all of your feeling and struggles.

You shook a bit of the powder out of the bag, it was a routine that you’d adapted.

You’d always had routines, at eight it had been your nighttime routine. Bath, pyjamas, toilet, bed time story, cuddles, trying to get to sleep in your own bed, inevitably sneaking into your moms bed. At 12 it had been your pre match routine, wearing your moms first arsenal jersey to bed the night beforehand, a banana and bottle of water before the game, socks, shinpads, boots and a bottle of lucozade. At 14 it was your pre test routine, cue cards with one of your parents the night beforehand, a 12 hour sleep, a good luck hug from one of your moms and using your lucky pen. At 17 it was the little kit you kept underneath your bed, open it, find the baggy, spill enough of it onto your desk, push it into a line, take a deep breath through your nose.

It was a routine that kept you going, one that you clung to like the oxygen you breathed in.

When your mom tore her acl, your life changed permanently, no longer was any focus on you, it shouldn’t have really been a surprise that you’d fallen into a rougher crowd, that you’d turned to something else to help soothe the pain that had been coursing through your blood stream as everything changed around you.

It had started with pocketing a couple of your moms post surgery meds, oxy’s, they felt good, they felt so much better than anything else you’d tried to help fix you. But they were in limited amounts and it was hard to steal pills when Lia was monitoring everything that your mom did and took. You’d made friends with the girls in the form above you, and then their friends who were older, and eventually you’d found yourself out at parties on nights when you told your mom that you were spending the night with your mama in Birmingham, it had been eays enough, she was too focused on her knee to pay much mind to what you were doing and who you were doing it with.

There was enough money lying around the house, it wasn’t hard to find and subsequently it wasn’t hard to find somebody who was willing to give you more than you could find at the parties you where going to.

It had felt good, like for the first time in a while you had people who you could relate to, who were dealing with the same problems as you, you felt like you’d found a somewhere that felt more like a home than anywhere you’d been before.

The vapes had been a way to disguise it, to make your mom feel like she could control the bad things that you were getting up to, if she monitored your vape usage then why would you search for anything else?

Self-soothing.

You finished your routine by pushing the baggy back into its box and securing the box back into the spot it had come from, making sure that it was hidden from sight, before climbing into your bed and waiting for the proper high to hit you.

Weed and nicotine were good, it had been where you started out, but nothing hit better than a real high, a real proper feeling that made you feel inundated with complete numbness in the best way possible. It made everything quiet, every doubt and pain in your soul quietened down and it made you feel at peace.

You supposed it was what made drugs so addictive, specifically meth. They made a person in pain feel normal, it made an angry person feel calm, it made a sad person happier than ever, it made a person searching for everything yearn for nothing. It fixed every problem known to man and every problem man knew.

When the high hit you felt it across your whole body, your thoughts, pain and the loudness inside of you faded, everything faded, all you felt like was a body, devoid of everything besides the body you were inside of. To you, it was the best feeling in the world, it was a feeling you’d been searching for since you were a kid, when you’d felt so alone and unloved that you would have sold all of your internal organs if it meant that you could have felt the same amount of nothingness that you were in this very moment.

You would lie awake for hours riding it out, staring up at the ceiling of your room, studying the different ridges and bumps across the white plaster. Once upon a time it had been blue, with white clouds all over it, little stars and rainbows across it, when Jordan had moved out you’d forced your mom to cover it up, it was just another reminder of the love that you’d once found in your house miraculously fading away.

It normally took a few hours for the initial high to fade, for the endorphins and adrenaline pinging around in your bloodstream to calm down for you to be able to drift off to sleep, you didn’t really mind, you were used to it. Once upon a time it was the same feeling you’d gotten when your moms would smile at you, or when you would step off a football pitch after 90 minutes, or when you’d get a good score from one of your exams. Once upon a time it had all been organic, it had been natural, now it was all forced, a chemical reaction that your brain craved.

Somewhere around 4am you drifted off, it was convenient because it meant you’d be dead asleep when your mom and Lia left for the training ground, saving you from the interaction with the two of them.

You awoke around 12 o’clock, you dragged yourself downstairs and into the kitchen, enjoying the emptiness that surrounded you. At your mama's house there was Blu, and for some reason it always felt more crammed. At your mom’s house everything was open, quiet, tucked away. It was the way you liked it, plus she was gone more often with media commitments and Arsenal playing in the Champions League, so it meant you were home alone most of the time.

You chugged your coffee like it was your first drink in days, groaning when your mom’s contact started buzzing up in front of you.

“Mom?”

You tried your best to sound awake, you don’t think your efforts were very successful.

“Hey bubba, how’d you sleep?”

You didn’t really think your mom actually cared about how you’d slept, more like it was a conversation buffer.

“Fine.”

You could hear the sound of your mom’s teammates in the background, a couple of months ago you probably would have been there with her, nowadays there was nothing you wanted less.

“Good. Look, I talked to Jord this morning, she’s going to come and hang out with you tomorrow until we get back, she should be around in the morning.”

The same anxiety that always seeped through your mom’s voice when she talked about her ex was easy to detect, like she was nervous to utter her name or mention her.

“Cool.”

You wondered why she hadn’t just left it up to you to organise something with your mama, but you supposed you hadn’t been great at that recently. Jordan’s number was something you had a aversion to.

“Which means I want you home before 1am, and I want you to be sensible tonight, your mama is very excited to see you tomorrow and I don’t want you being a dickhead or being dead to the world, You’ll be polite and spend time with her, understood?”

She made it sound like an assignment, like you had to be on your very best behaviour, like you had to put on a show for Jordan.

“Whatever.”

You heard a huff of annoyance from the other side of the phone, it was a sound you’d gotten used to, Leah used it frequently.

“Don’t whatever me, bubba please, Jords is really looking forward to it, she’s been feeling a bit left out by you recently so please for me, just try your hardest to be good for her. Be safe tonight, I know you and your friends like to have some fun but just stay safe, if you need anything don’t hesitate to send me a text or a call, I love you bubba.”

It felt empty, like your heart, like everything around you, like something she had to say.

“I love you too mom.”

The call fizzled out and you let a deep breath that you’d been holding in go, you did love your mom, it just didn’t feel like she loved you anymore.

You went about your day in a haze, your friends were due to come to yours before the party around 5 o’clock, so you had some time to yourself before then, time you were undoubtedly planning to do not a lot with. You tried watching tv, tried organising and cleaning your room, none of it took off the edge, none of it made the world silent like you needed.

It had all started with parties, a way for you to get out of your comfort zone, a way to make parties a little bit more enjoyable. Now you craved them to make your life more enjoyable, to make it all a little bit more bearable.

It was all one big routine.

For a while you throught it was getting better, everything was solving itself. You’d lie awake in your bed at 3am, riding out the last bits of your high and you’d realise that it wasn’t, that there was no solution to solve what had gone wrong with you and made you so fucking unlovebale.

You knew your existence wasn’t eays, hell Jordan and Leah had adopted you when you were at rock bottom, and they’d still found a way to love you, to make you loveable, but you figured somewhere along the way they’d run out of things about you that were loveable.

You weren’t normally someone who got high during the day, but you were home alone and figured why not, you’d been taking them at night for months now, what would a day time fix change? Everything felt better when you were riding on a high.

You spent the rest of your afternoon sat on your window sill, counting the cars as they drove past. When your friends came around at 5 o’clock you were ecstatic, hurrying down the stairs as fast as your woozy body would allow you.

You had friends that your moms met and friends your moms didn’t, these were the ones you were yet to introduce to Leah.

You didn’t think that she would approve of the friends that you hung out with when she wasn’t around, especially considering they were quite a bit older than you.

There were benefits to it, they bought you alcohol they could drive you around, they were smarter then the kids your age.

Maya, Olivia and Scarlett were nice enough, a little bit stupid but it didn’t bother you too much, you were all like minded, you liked to have fun and party, with the assistance of some recreational substances.

None of them batted an eye at your clear intoxication, pushing a bottle of something or another into your hands before walking with you up to your room to start getting ready.

The drink burned as it made it’s way down your throat, it was therapeutic, a reminder that while you felt disconnected from your body because of the drugs, you were still present.

You let one of the girls do your makeup, packing your face until you looked well over the age of 17, then allowing one of them to sort through your monstrosity of a closet until they found a cute corset top and skirt. Leah Williamson was a lot of things, a fashionista being one of them and that had always carried through to your wardrobe. You were more than equipped with clothing for every occasion known to man.

By the time you’d downed your first drink of the night the euphoria was starting to hit and you were starting to feel good.

By the time your second drink had been downed you were being thrown into a car and were on your way to the party, sharing a joint with Liv who was sat in the back seat with you, the two of you occasionally shotgunning the smoke or blowing a puff at eachother.

It was good, it was relaxing, it was what made you feel at peace.

Pulling up to the party was a whole different kind of feeling.

You didn’t know who’s party you were at, who’s house, where it was, it didn’t matter to you, not really, all you cared about was having a good time by your standards.

You flicked your phone onto silent, desperate to avoid any contact from anyone, instead focused on the spectacle around you as you stepped into the threshold.

Maya introduced you to someone she went to school with, a man that looked like he was nearly as far gone as you felt. You smiled at him, giving him a hug and nod, trying to rush the introduction so you could get a drink in your hand and take a seat.

“You’re quite cute aren’t ya, how old are you sweetheart?”

You looked across at your friend, curious as to whether you should lie or not, she nodded her head and you took it as approval.

“17.”

His smile only grew, his head cocking to the side.

“A youngin? I’m sure we’ll have some fun tonight, the young ones always know how to go harder, whaddya like, sweetheart?”

You tried your best not to appear uncomfortable, even if his attention was putting you off a little bit.

“She’ll take whatever, although she has been having some fun with ice recently, she likes her vape and some molly sprinkled in with it.”

Matt slapped you on the back, his smile only growing.

“Definitely a fun time then, I’ll catch up with you later sweetheart, I reckon I have something you might like, head on in guys, I’ll catch you later.”

It wasn’t a big house, it wasn’t small either though, it was full enough that it probably seemed smaller than it truly was.

There were people everywhere, which surprised you considering it was only early, not that you minded, it was more convenient anyways.

You were dragged to a couch with your friends, they were less far gone than you and almost immediately were sniffing up lines of whatever was on the coffee table in front of you.

There was so much happening around you that you struggled to understand it all fully, there were puffs of smoke coming from every direction, needles being handed around, different pills being popped, lines being sniffed. It was the kind of environment you liked to think you’d come to flourish in, it made you feel more relaxed then anywhere else on the planet.

You relaxed into the couch, enjoying the spectacle around you and subconsciously taking hits of your vape as you watched the splendour occur around you.

There wasn’t a single legal thing about it, but you didn’t care, there was a cold drink in your hand and the scent of pot and vapour surrounding you, it was the best place to be on the planet.

The night slowly started to fade into a blip as you made your way through more drinks, your body surrendering to the feeling of the alcohol coursing through you and the high slowly starting to fade. You were cautious of the fact that you needed to be home at a certain time, you didn’t want to push your mom’s wishes, you were also aware that you could manage another shoot up before getting yourself home.

“Oi, where can I find some meth.”

Maya had headed somewhere with some boy she knew from highschool and Olivia had left in search of a spot to smoke, leaving you and Scarlett.

“Go find Matt, he’ll hook you up.”

With legs like jelly and a swaying head you stood up from the couch, your vape clutched in one hand and empty bottle in the other. It didn’t take a lot of searching to find the man you’d been introduced to earlier, he was sat on a couch, a girl on either side of him, who both looked about as far gone as they could get without being passed out.

“Pretty girl, what can I do for you.”

You didn’t like the way the term of endearment slid off of his tongue so easily, in almost a condescending way.

“Do you have meth?”

You didn’t care if you were being too straight forward, you were itching for something to get you back 0onto the high that you’d been riding out for the past couple of hours.

“I do, but it’ll cost ya.”

You rolled your eyes, money was hardly a problem for you.

“I’ve got money.”

His head cocked the same way it had earlier.

“I don’t want your money sweetheart, c’mon, I’ll get you some meth.”

The same slippery term of endearment that made your throat hurt. He shook the two girls off of him, standing up with a lot more composure than you and beginning to walk out of the lounge room you were in and towards the staircase. You followed him up, holding onto the banister with everything you had and trying to keep up with him as the both of you arrived at the top and he began walking down a corridor, until he made it to the end and opened up a door.

You assumed it was his bedroom by the looks of it, which made you uncomfortable slightly but you accepted the fact you were craving a fix and he was potentially the only person who could supply it in this moment.

He rummaged through a bedside draw, until he pulled out a syringe and a bottle of what you assumed to be dissolved crystal meth. You’d always kept your distance from needles, it gave you a better high but it was harder to hide and harder to deal with, the powdered form was the least complicated.

You could feel your heartbeat pick up as he beckoned you over, patting for you to sit down on the edge of the bed. You walked over, taking a seat on the bed and watching with curiosity as he prepared the needle, and took your arm in his, securing a rubber tourniquet around your bicep and feeling your skin for a vein. Once he found it he picked the needle up, filling it with a couple of mls of the liquid before bringing it up to your arm, gently inserting it into the vein, sucking in a bit of your blod and watching the red swirl with the drug mix before pushing down on the syringe and inserting it into your blood stream.

It was immediate validation, your head dropping back with ecstasy as the drugs infiltrated your body.

“Feels good doesn’t it, sweetheart.”

You nodded your head, enjoying the sensation of the lingering sting as the needle was pulled from your arm and the tourniquet was untied.

His hands were on your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking at him.

“Now, I think it’s time I get my payment, hmm?”

You took one last breath, enjoying the validation of your high.

“I told you I have money.”

He shook his head and with the smirk on the corner of his lips you couldn’t help but feel slightly worried.

“No, I prefer my payment other ways.”

Even with the alcohol and drugs running through your veins, you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach immediately.

You were suddenly frighteningly aware of your position, and undeniably feeling a little bit scared.

“What way?”

You didn’t like how your voice wavered, your age becoming more obvious as you struggled to stomach the different thoughts going through your head.

“I’ll show you.”

His hands moved to your hair, dragging you off the corner of the mattress and onto your knees below him.

You tried to dissasociate it, tried to dissasociate as his hands fell to his belt buckle and fly, tried to disassociate so you didn’t have to think about the million no’s that were banging against your skull and leaving your lips as his fly came undone and he let his pants drop to his feet.

You’d never really expressed your sexuality, you hadn’;t felt the need t, both of your moms were gay, so were most of their friends, you knew no matter who you were dating they’d be happy for you, you knew that whatever this was though you didn’t want it.

With your weary head and drugged up body there wasn’t much fight you could put up as he opened your jaw for you and forced his way inside of you

You tried your hardest to dissasociate like you’d taught yourself, thinking about the high, thinking about the drugs, thinking about your moms, thinking about everything in your life that had once loved you and you’d once loved the same. Normally it worked, normally you trustd yourself to get you to that safe space that made you feel like no matter what was happening you could deal with it, you just couldn’t get it to work though, there were tears streaming down your face as his hands stayed planted in the roots of your hair, the hair a couple of hours ago that your friends had been curling and working on whilst you’d all be laughing.

He didn’t last long, that was something you were grateful for.

As soon as his hands left your hair you were bolting up from the floor, walking as past as your weary legs would let you before anything else happened that you couldn’t stop.

You catapulted your way down the same stairs you’d marched up happily, not paying any attention to the people in the background as you pushed your way out of the front door, breathing in the freezing london air and clinging to the freshness of it and how it cooled the pain in your throat.

You didn’t hesitate calling the uber, the tears on your face spraying down onto your phone screen as you tried your hardest to focus on the task at hand which was getting home and getting as far away from this as possible.

You didn’t care that your mom could track your uber account, you didn’t care that there were thirty unread texts from both of your moms and a couple of phone calls, all you cared about was getting home to your bed and doing whatever it took to forget about what just happened.

The uber was quick enough, you practically threw yourself into the back seat, trying to calm yourself down, but failing miserably.

If your uber driver noticed then he didn’t comment on the fact that you were practically hyperventilating in his backseat.

The car ride home was quicker then you thought it would be, you were so grateful it was an away game night, that you didn’t have to deal with anyone, but you were also secretly crumbling about the fact that you were all alone, that you had been all alone in that room with him, that you had no one to stop him and couldn’t do anything about it.

You were hardly steady on your legs as you unlocked the door with your keys and swayed your way into the living room and then towards the stairs, finding the incline slightly jarring but desperate to get to your room and bed so you could sleep of the horrendous feeling in your gut. High be damned, alcohol be damned, all you wanted was to be asleep, so you partially forget about all of this and hopefully it would fall victim to all of the endorphins in your head and be permanently removed from your brain.

Your room was cold, your window still open, you didn’t care.

All you cared was getting out of the too tight clothes you were in and getting into your bed.

You pulled at the corset, unbothered when you heard the seam ripping as you tugged at it, your skirt was easier. You flung a hoodie and pair of pyjama pants onto your body before climbing straight under your covers, your body shaking. You weren’t sure whether it was because of the high or because of the incessant hatred that had grown in your chest at the memory replaying over and over in your mind.

You clutched onto your vape, holding it in your hand and sucking up hit after hit as you tried to find solace in the flavoured air, hoping it would send you off to sleep.

You woke up with a headache like no other, your whole body hurt, and to the sound of repetitive banging at the front door downstairs.

You groaned out, annoyed at every single part of you for what had happened last night.

Your legs were still wobbly as you clawed your way out of your bed, your legs protesting with every single step you took, out of your room, down the stairs, to the peephole at your door.

Jordan, fuck.

You supposed in your haze it hadn’t been hard to forget about your mother’s appearance for today, you’d been trying desperately to forget so many other things that it must have slipped your mind.

You didn’t want to open the door, but you also knew you had to, so with every last piece of strength that you had in your body, you pulled the door open.

#woso #woso community #sammykworshipper thoughts #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs #jordan nobbs x reader #trauma #pain #sammykworshipperfics #wobbs breakup #drug addiction #im sad so are u #im not the only one crying #sue me for hurting ur feelings #sick and twisted

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seeminglyseph · 5 months

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The whole point of Scott Pilgrim is that at the beginning of Scott Pilgrim vs The World he’s like a big freeloading manchild who strings along a teenage girl because he doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to have a real relationship or end one properly and ends up devastating her and causing her serious emotional harm because he’s a deeply selfish individual who takes advantage of his friends and anyone who will let him because he’s an avoidant and whiny loser who hasn’t grown up or learned to how to be decent person.

Throughout the comic series he faces various conflicts and challenges that force him to grow as a person and deal with the consequences of his actions and this makes him have to learn that he is technically a pretty shitty person who has done a lot of really shitty things to people, and as such it kinda makes him grow up and become a better person. He makes amends and is still not *great* but he like… has to get a job, has to realize his behaviour hurts people and has to take responsibility.

The new cartoon makes him face a version of that person who didn’t take those lessons as deeply to heart as he should have and just decided to blame everyone else and run away and lash out and it makes him realize what a deeply unpleasant and unlikeable person he is to be around hopefully helping him to grow too.

Scott is not supposed to be a good person at the beginning of his character arc. He’s pretty reprehensible. Honestly most of the characters in the series don’t like him save for the teenager who is too young to know better and the girl who has just met him and isn’t all that great herself. Because as the new series shows, Ramona has her own issues to work through. She treated her “league of evil exes” like trash and dumped them for some pretty shit reasons.

Part of the reason Ramona and Scott end up working out is that neither of them were particularly great people. She’s flaky and judgemental and hurts people, she’s bad at communication and she plays people against each other if it works out for her sometimes. She doesn’t like it when relationships get hard, and that’s how she can have 7 exes with such hard feelings they formed a league over it.

But judging people at the beginning of their character arc isn’t really fair because like. You don’t take your final exam on the first day of class. They do manage to learn and grow and get better at stuff. They make amends and learn and become better people over time. And that’s part of the human experience.

And that’s something I really like about the new anime because on top of everything all the characters get that chance, I love seeing the Evil Exes getting a chance to grow and get closure and development. Matthew Patel’s character development is maybe my favourite thing to watch. Look at him become a Beautiful Theatre Kid Butterfly. I love him.

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgram vs the world #scott pilgram takes off

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charlie-lec-stories · 2 months

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Everything happens for a reason // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Stroll!Sister

Summary: After a whole life of following her father's orders, Y/N's tired of being the good girl and when she finally stood up for herself with the help of her best friend, all hell broke loose.

Warnings: Sexual comments and scenarios, cheating, strong vocabulary.

Author’s Note: Well guys, gals and non-binary pals, you know I love messy stories, this is no exception. Rate: +18 (adult content)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"UGHHHHHH". Y/N couldn't help but laugh out loud when her brother, Lance, sat down beside her, grunting as if it was the hardest thing his body had done in 20 years.

"Really, Lance, was it really that hard? Are you that old?". She rolled her eyes as the boy fixed his position on the roof, making sure that he wouldn't fall off. They had the tradition of sitting on the roof of their mansion after dinner and before bed time. They had an hour before the staff would start looking for them, the only time they could be normal and not billionaires.

"I'm not old, it was that hard, some of us train, you know. Not everyone is naturally gifted at driving cars". She laughed again. Even though her brother tried to act annoyed with her great driving, he was actually proud of her.

"I'm not that good". She lied, but he shook his head, then let it rest on her shoulder, getting comfortable next to her under the blanket she had. Her hand went to his hair, lovingly running her fingers through the locks.

"Don't lie. Gees, I'm not ever sure who you got that from, because dad sucks". She felt his body shake as he giggled at his own comment. "That old man may love racing but God knows he should never touch a steering wheel".

"Hey, don't be like that, he's an average driver...". Lance moved his head up to give her a pointed look. "He is!... When it comes to tennis karts he is". They stayed silent for a moment before bursting out laughing so hard that they got worried someone might have heard.

"Okay, okay, enough with roasting the old man". Lance said once they calmed down. He resumed his position close to her and changed the subject. "Are you excited for the new season? I mean, you have a real chance this time, sis".

"Carlos said the same". She said, sighing and looking into the horizon. The sun was setting and the sky had that perfect shade between pink and purple, it was lovely, it made her feel at peace.

"Well, we are right. I'm always right, as you obviously know, and Carlos is your best friend, he could never lie to you, that's illegal". Y/N smile, that was true, her best friend was the most honest person she had ever met, and if there were two people in the world she trusted with her life, those were Lance and Carlos.

"Speaking of Carlos, I have something to tell you about this season". Lance could feel the tension in her voice so he fixed his position again, showing her that he was giving her his full attention. "Nelson, you know, the PR guy, he told me that I have to get into a PR relationship. He gave me two options: Carlos or Leclerc. Of course, I chose Carlos. I'd rather fake-date my best friend than Charles-stupid-Leclerc".

"You should let go of that anger, your beef with Charles was years ago, he's a nice guy". Lance rolled his eyes at his sister. Y/N and Charles fought after a karting race when they were 16 and never got along after that. He was unnecessarily mean to her and she always over-reacted. But to be fair to Charles, she did say to him that he had a small penis in front of the whole grid, and that can be really harmful for a teenage boy. The fact that everyone knew that they had hooked up once only made the accusation seem more reliable, humiliating Charles even more in front of their peers. To add to the feud, Y/N called him "Peanut" and he called her "Matagot", which is basically a south-french mythology monster that only treats you well if you keep it well-fed, otherwise it can be your biggest nightmare. It was Charles' way of calling her a spoiled brat, that only cares for others when she can get something in return.

"He's not nice. But I don't want to talk about him, I want advice. I have never been in a PR relationship before and you have. It's pretty uncomfortable to have to do this with Carlos, but I have to make it work".

Lance and Y/N spent their hour talking, he gave her advice on what to do and how to keep the friendship strong after having to be all over each other in public. It was going to be awkward, but her contract said that there were things she had to do to get a better public image and Carlos was a great way to keep things interesting. Drive to Survive, the Netflix series about the sport needed something to talk about, and a relationship between two drivers from different teams was perfect, and that's how she ended up trapped with a PR relationship. Around 10 pm, they got down the roof and made their way to their rooms. Before bed, Y/N checked her phone and found a text from her best friend.

Chili-man: Hey kiddo! I know that this is going to be awkward, but remember that we're best friends first, if you ever feel uncomfortable, you let me know and I'll do everything to help out. Okay?

Y/N: Thanks Chili-man. I love to know that you're always on my corner. You're the best. And the same goes for you. It's gonna be weird, but at least I'm not fake-dating Peanut.

Chili-man: Don't be mean, he's a nice guy.

Y/N: You and my brother need to stop being such Leclerc's advocates, I'm sure he can pay his own defense lawyers, you guys don't need to do it for free. Anyways, good night and I'll see you tomorrow for the first day!

Chili-man: I promise he's not that bad. But whatever. Sleep tight kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sound of her father shouting and her mother begging him to lower his voice. Still half asleep, she walked to the door and cracked it open. Outside, she saw Lance peeking out of his own room and after sharing a puzzled look, they moved their attention to their father. He was at the end of the hall, at the door of his room, their mother was pulling at his arm, trying to pull him into the room without success. It was strange to say the least, that their mother interfered with their father's affairs, she had her own business to worry about, but she seemed actually worried about the discussion their father was taking part in over the phone.

"I SAID NO. I don't care about the numbers, I don't care about the stupid show. She's not dating Carlos Sainz Jr. She'll do that over my dead body!". Both Lance and her looked at each other. Why was he so upset? He loved the Sainz; he had been friends with Carlos Sainz Sr. for as long as they could remember. "I DON'T CARE IF IT'S FAKE".

"Honey, please, they'll hear you". Their mother tried to calm him down, but he was furious.

"THEN USE LECLERC, BUT SHE'S NOT DATING CARLOS AND THAT'S MY FINAL WORD". She definitely didn't like that last statement. Her father hung up and stormed into his room. It was her turn to be upset, she didn't want to date Charles Leclerc, fake or for real, it was a nightmare both ways. A little later that morning she tried to convince her father in her favor, but he was so angry that it was impossible to make his change his mind. Carlos texted her mid-day, while she was on the jet on her way towards Bahrain, asking her what happened and why his PR team told him that he was replaced by Charles. She didn't want Carlos to feel bad or inadequate in the eyes of her father, so she lied and said that she had no idea and that as soon as she had an answer for that, she would tell him. When she made it to Sakhir, she was told to leave her luggage at her room and then go back to the lobby so she could wait for a car there with Nelson. They had to meet with Charles and his team to discuss the details of the arrangement. It was a quiet car ride, Nelson was aware of what she thought of Charles and that the change had not been her decision, so he let her off the hook for a few minutes.

"Welcome, Miss Stroll, please have a seat". Kathy, Charles' PR head of the department greeted her when they made it to the hotel where Ferrari was staying. The room they used for the meeting was a last time arrangement, but it had space and it made her feel better, considering how bad things could get once Charles arrived.

"Thank you". She sat down on the couch and Kathy handed her a glass of water. They didn't have to wait much before Charles walked through the door. If it wasn't for her being completely aware of how much of a prick he was, she was sure that she could fall at his feet over and over again every time she saw him. He was the most handsome man on Earth, she knew that, but he was also aware of that so it posed a problem for her.

"Sorry I'm late, I wanted to shower after the flight". He sat on the bed of the room and looked at Y/N when she scoffed.

"Thank you for that! Now the only thing that stinks in this room is your shitty personality". Charles growled. They spent less than two minutes together, 2 meters apart, and they were already at each other's throats.

"I told you this was not gonna work". He told Kathy. "She's a spoiled little shit and I can't stand her close to me. The feeling is obviously mutual, why force this?".

"Because you're the perfect marketing option and it's our job-". Kathy pointed between her and Nelson. "- to make you both a selling machine. So you'll both make it work or your teams will reduce money from your salaries for breaching your contracts".

"That's not fair. I need my money and this Matagot doesn't give two shits about her contract, her Daddy is a billionaire, you're giving her all the power in the world over me!". Charles complained. He knew that she didn't need the money, she could make his life a living hell without a problem and he would have to take it all like a good boy not to lower his income.

"Suck it up, Peanut. Compensate that small pecker of yours by being the bigger person!". She was enjoying the moment.

"The itinerary is long. Read it, learn it and follow it". Nelson explained to ease up the tension. "Remember to be caring and loving, but do not overdo it. Kiss once in a while, hold hands while you walk together. We'll take care of the interviews and the press. Act the part for Netflix and we'll help you with the conflict for the show-".

"We don't need help with conflict". Charles interrupted.

"We need conflict, not first degree murder, Charles". Kathy sent them a stern look as she let the comment out and both drivers looked at their laps.

"Okay, I got it all. Can I go now?". She wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

That night she texted Carlos, and he told her something interesting: His PR team and his father told him to put some distance with her. They were both surprised, since when did their parents dislike the idea of them being friends? They had been friends their whole lives, close since they remembered. They were like siblings, why couldn't they be friends anymore? They understood the whole PR thing, that she needed to sell and that there was drama that had to occur between her and her fake boyfriend, but why did it all have to happen with Carlos at an arms' length? It was weird and she needed to know. It was hard enough that her father had controlled her whole life, she was already old enough to make her own decision. Why did he care so much about her friends? It wasn't like she was going to date Carlos for real. Carlos had his own questions, he was almost 30, his father was stepping over a line trying to control his life like that, but he respected his old man and he was going to listen, as long as the decision didn't prove to be hurtful for his best friend.

"I'm not kissing you". She said as soon as she met Charles at the lobby of her hotel. They were supposed to show up together for the first day at the paddock. Of course, she wanted to make it difficult for him. "I'm not doing the same stupid shit twice".

"You don't have to do me this time, Matagot". Charles hissed at her. "Plus, it's not like I will enjoy it so shut up and make this easy for everyone".

"I said-". But he cut her off with his lips over hers. As fast as he did it, he pulled away and before she could say anything, he was practically dragging her to his car.

The day went by incredibly slowly, but at some point she became numb to holding hands and kissing with Charles. They would kiss and she would instantly start talking about something racing related, like Lance suggested she do to get rid of the awkwardness. Charles seemed okay with that. What was actually bothering her more was the fact that she spent the whole day without talking to Carlos. Charles noticed her looking for his teammate a few times but decided to ignore the raging fire it started inside his veins. He hated the idea that he had to date her, but he dated more the idea of her dating Carlos. He wasn't surprised when Carlos told him that he was going to date Y/N as a PR stunt, what surprised Charles was that they weren't actually dating for real. He could never understand why the Spaniard would refuse to date a woman like her. Charles found Y/N the most amazing woman, when she was nice, and she was definitely nice to Carlos. The older man explained that he never felt like that about her and it never made sense to Charles, after all, he did feel that way about her when she used to be nice to him. But that was a decade ago, and she had never been nice once to him since that time. Still, he felt pleased that Carlos wasn't a threat. She may have looked around for him, and liked him over Charles, but he didn't reciprocate her feelings, so Charles was safe. He was torn between a need for her to love him and constant reaction of disgust to everything she said.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Peanut? There are no cameras here". She said when he appeared at her room door.

"We need to talk". He made his way inside the room and she sighed, already too tired to complain.

"What do you want to talk about?". He sat on her bed and she went to the couch, not wanting to be near him.

"Do you like Carlos?". He decided that dancing around the question was pointless and she was kind of thankful that he cut to the chase.

"That's none of your business, Charles"

"Well, but we are fake dating, and he's my teammate, so I need to know". Lie, that wasn't the real reason, and she knew, but she let it slide.

"I don't like Carlos that way". She saw the accusatory look on his face and explained further. "We're best friends. Something happened. I don't know what. I think our fathers may have something to do with it. He told me that we can't hang out much for now. It's weird".

"Does this have anything to do with us getting together?". 'Failed act', Freud would say.

"We're not together Charles, we can't stand each other". He could pick up on her tired tone, maybe it was the right time to finally get her out of her shell.

"We used to. I remember that time. We had a great moment". But what he thought was going to be a comment that made her happy, completely backlashes at him.

"A great moment?! That's what it was for you? Just a great time?". She stood up, tears at the corners of her eyes and Charles suddenly felt the need to get up and hold her. He didn't, though. "That's why you just simply walked out and ignored me then? Because I was just another good time for you?"

"What? No, how did you even get there?! I never said that!". Now he was the one in a defensive mood.

"Your actions speak better than your words. You ignored me, after everything we did together, after how vulnerable I was with you. I gave you my virginity and you simply threw me away!". She was fully on crying and Charles just could take it anymore, he got up and pulled her to his body, hugging her as tightly as he could.

"I was embarrassed. I felt like I did it like shit. I was stupid and had zero experience. I came so fast because I liked you so much. I thought I let you down". He wasn't sure if she heard him, his words muffed by her hair and his sobs. "I thought you had not enjoyed that moment as much as I did and it was embarrassing, because I loved every second of it. I wanted to talk to you but your parents kind of scared me off from the house the next morning. It felt like I had done everything wrong. Then we saw each other at the race and you were so cold that I believed I was right. You then said those things... I- I just didn't know what to do".

"I shouldn't have said that. I was hurt and felt humiliated, I was wrong". She was grabbing at him as tightly as he was at her.

"We both were". He kissed her head and they broke apart. "I never stopped thinking about you. I always wondered what we could have been...". He let that linger in the air, the possibility. She took his hand and led him to the bed. Her actions spoke better than her words.

They woke up the next morning to someone pounding on the door. Charles quickly fell asleep again, but Y/N got up to tell the person at the other side to get lost. She was surprised when she found Carlos on the other side. The man didn't even say hi, he walked into the room, pushing her inside with him and slamming the door shut. The noise woke Charles up again, this time he did get up, furious when he noticed that his teammate was grabbing his girlfriend's arms with a python's grip. Carlos looked worried, but it was mixed with a bit of anger and something else Charles couldn't decipher. It wasn't until he spoke up that Carlos actually noticed his presence.

"What the fuck are you doing?!". The monegasque walked towards him, and Carlos noticed the lack of clothing, the black Calvin Klein's hanging from Charles' hips were the only thing keeping him decent.

"You two...". He suddenly smiled. "It was about time. A decade. Never met two people this slow".

"You're on thin ice, mate". Charles said, sternly.

"Then you're not going to like what I'm going to say next". Carlos took a deep breath. "I need us to fake-date, Y/N. I want to pressure my father. I think he's planning on setting me up with someone. But if he thinks we're dating even though he said no, he'll leave me alone". She looked at Charles, he didn't seem happy with the idea, but she also wanted to find out why her father was so against Carlos so suddenly.

"If- IF I do it, do you think we can make it happen sometime when both our parents are there?". Charles looked down at her frowning. "Remember last night, when I told you that I didn't know what happened? I want to find out".

"I don't know, mon Ange". She took his hand and his face relaxed a bit. He used to call her that, when they were younger, it felt right.

"I need to know, something feels off. This is the reason why we are together now. Over ten years of history fixed by one phone call by my father". He let out the breath he was holding, she was right. "Please, everything happens for a reason, Charlie".

"Okay, let's do this".

They had to wait until after the race. Carlos Sr. and Lawrence, Lance and Y/N’s father, were sitting at the hotel restaurant, chatting with frowns on their faces. Carlos and Y/N held hands and walked towards them, Charles following them close behind. He had a part in the plan, and he was ready to execute it perfectly, even if it was harder for him to act mad at Y/N now that they had made up. The older men looked up at their children when the three drivers approached them. To say that they looked horrified would be an understatement. Carlos Sr. seemed about to throw up, while Lawrence was simply shocked. The first part of the plan was done, keeping the element of surprise. Now to phase two: the lie itself. They sat at the table, Carlos in the middle of Charles and Y/N, his hand interlocked with hers resting on the table so their fathers could see them. It took the older men a moment to get the color back to their faces, but when they did, Lawrence went from white to red in a second.

"What the hell is this?". He asked, trying to keep the little cool he had left.

"We're dating, Mr. Stroll. We wanted you both to know". Carlos was the oldest, he took the lead.

"You can't". Carlos Sr. said with his voice rough thanks to the lump in his throat.

"That's not your decision, Dad". Everything was going as expected, but they had to admit that their fathers did look more disturbed than they had foreseen.

"It is. You won't date Carlos, you will date Charles as it was planned by the PR team and I don't want to hear anything else about it". That was Charles’ cue.

"I won't date her if she's in love with my teammate. We can barely stand each other, I won't get stuck into this mess for her". It hurt, but he had to say it like that. The other two didn't budge, and they had to pull out the last resort they had to press their fathers' buttons. Y/N saw their mothers walking to the table, so she took Carlos by the chin and started to get closer to him, ready to kiss him. Before they could make contact, Carlos Sr. was pushing them away.

"You can't do that, don't do that". He was almost losing it.

"Why?". She whispered, her eyes looking into his and a chill ran down her spine.

"You're half-siblings". It was Lawrence who said it. There was a long list of options that Carlos and Y/N had made of what could have happened, being siblings was not on the list.

"What?". Charles was as stunned as them. Lawrence and Carlos Sr. sighed and rested against the backs of the seat. Their wives, paralyzed behind them, were still unnoticed by the rest of the table.

"I had an affair with Lawrence's assistant. Of course your mother didn't know about it". Carlos Jr. had an expression impossible to read as his hand gripped Y/N tightly. "She got pregnant, asked me to leave your mother. I refused. She had the baby, Y/N. But then she got postpartum depression. She killed herself three weeks after giving birth".

"Y/N, you mother had just lost a pregnancy, no one knew, I found you in that house, alone, crying. It was the chance to give your mother a baby after the one she lost". Lawrence continued.

"You had the power and money to make it happen". Charles was officially angry, and it wasn't even his identity on the line. "What did you do with her mother? Where is she buried?".

"She was cremated. I took care of everything. I gave her the best there is". Carlos Sr.'s wife was looking at Lawrence's with pain in her eyes. She knew, all this time she knew that they were raising her husband's offspring and she hid it from her.

"Why did you let us become friends?". It was Carlos Jr.'s time to ask.

"I wanted to keep in contact with her, watch her grow. You two got along so well, she ended up liking racing too. Everything led to you two in my life". Carlos Sr. let a few tears free. "Ten years ago, we considered letting you know the truth".

"Your mother and I discussed it, but then we saw that Charles was in the house, we kind of got rid of him to talk to you, but then you looked so upset. You got disqualified from the race for fighting with Charles. We understood that you were going through a lot, so we desisted". Lawrence added.

Carlos Jr.'s mother made her presence known and the three drivers took the chance to run away from the situation, knowing that the argument the two couples had was going to be too much to witness. The three ran to Y/N's room, crossing paths with Lance on their way there. Telling Lance that his sister was not his biological sister was one of the worst conversations they had. But they were all victims of so much, they found solace in sharing the tears together. They refused their parents' calls for the night, sending a text explaining that they needed time and that they would reach out when they felt like it. The four of them stayed in the room, chatting and calming themselves down. The irony of it all struck Y/N like a lighting and she couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny, mon Ange?". Charles asked and then kissed the back of her hand.

"If my parents hadn't scared you off that morning, we would have never discovered the truth". She explained, but her brothers didn't follow. "Charles walking out on me that morning is the reason why we fought that day in the race. Because of the fight in the race, we started hating each other. Because of the rivalry, I choose to fake-date Carlos instead of Charles. Because of my choice, Dad made the call and everything else followed".

"So, if you and Charles had made up that day...". Carlos started.

"We would have probably been together today, no need for PR, no need for your fathers to say anything". Charles finished. All four laughed softly. "I was so sad that things didn't work out back then".

"Everything happens for a reason".

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Okay, this is a LONG ASS STORY, sorry guys for not posting in months, I've been so caught up with work I literally thought I could get fired, but I had some time to edit this one. I hope you liked it. Remember to like, comment, reblog and all those beautiful things you do.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader

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icallhimjoey · 1 month

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If tomorrow is the end of the world, one of the last things I wanna do is reading a oneshot of Joe and Hazel because I miss that little bitch a lot. Thank you in advance.

so, i vowed to never write baby hazel again, and yet, here we are... you're welcome Wordcount: 1.3K

--- Great Mum, Great Team

"What a terrible development," you said aghast though you were smiling, apples in your cheeks round and blushing. You were stood in the doorway to Hazel's bedroom, amazed at what you were looking at.

"I cannot believe my eyes!"

Joe sat on the carpet next to Hazel who was trying her very best to put on her mary jane's correctly, right shoe on right foot, left shoe on left foot.

Joe fully ignored you, eyes trained on Hazel's feet, just like hers were.

She struggled with the straps, tiny fingers trying to sort her toes out and not let her socks get in the way. You saw the tip of her tongue peek out in concentration, and saw how Joe, for whatever reason, copied it.

Your heart was overflowing with proud love for her as you saw her put real effort in, eyes flitting up to Joe for encouragement. It swelled your chest, pained it wonderfully.

"Nearly there. Yep, you got it." Joe spoke softly, not lending a hand, which really impressed you. You had a way of taking over, wanting to help out and just get the task done.

This was better parenting, what you were looking at.

Hazel's left heel slipped into the shoe and she immediately moved to stand up, grabbing onto a hand that Joe held out for stability.

"Yeaaa. High five, Hazel!" Joe exclaimed, holding up a palm that got hit by two smaller ones.

She did it.

"I can't believe it." you made big eyes as you smiled at her when Hazel skipped closer, telling you all about how she put her shoes on all by herself because she was a big girl now.

Something you'd been trying to convince her of for weeks.

"See, didn't I tell you?"

It seemed like she thought it was all way too far-fetched when you told her she was old enough to put her shoes on by herself, though.

The standard reaction you'd get was, "Can you please help me, mummy? I can't do it by myself." and you'd try. You'd really try. You'd tell her things like, no babe, I know you can do it, if you don't, you'll have to go outside without any shoes on and your socks will get all wet, and that doesn't sound very nice, does it?

But you'd grow impatient.

It would just take too long.

"She's going to need a big girl bed soon, too, don't you Hazel?" Joe said, getting up himself now too. Hazel ignored the both of you as she skipped past you, on her way to the living room where the TV was still playing one of her shows.

You raised your eyebrows and huffed a laugh as you watched her disappear down the hall.

"I swear she thinks she's a teenager." Joe mused, stepping closer and letting his hand fall to your waist.

"Yea, a teenager who only listens to you, it seems."

"Well," Joe leant closer for a quick peck to your lips. "Stop being such a push-over then."

Joe expected you to drop your jaw, to frown deep, and to shove at him, because he was clearly only joking.

But instead you sighed and quietly said "Yea, I know." much more sorrowful than he ever wanted to hear you.

You thought maybe it was your voice. You didn't think you sounded very authoritative, that you didn't tend to make demands very well.

Hazel always poked right through your demands. Didn't take them seriously like you wanted her to.

"Hey," Joe whispered worriedly, forcing eye-contact before saying, "You know you're not a push-over, right? I was only joking."

You smile at his gentleness. At the instant care he's got ready for you.

"No, I am. It's okay. I shouldn't have made such a headstrong child, it's my own fault." you tried your hand at humour, and Joe nearly bought it.

You could hear how Hazel opened a cabinet in your living room, followed by the sounds of the box with wooden blocks being dragged out. Hazel didn't really have time to play right now, Joe had just gotten her to put her shoes on for a short trip to the market. You didn't really need anything, but it was nice to get out of the house and tire Hazel out a bit.

"Baby," you called out to her, leaning away from Joe a little as to not shout right into his ear, and were about to tell your daughter to put the blocks back. But then Joe pulled you in close and pressed his nose into your cheek, softly saying, "No, let her. We're not in a hurry, are we?"

You realised just then that you weren't, and, to Joe's relief, finally swung arms around his neck to hug him back.

Through kisses to your cheek, Joe murmured, "You realise that only headstrong girls can make headstrong girls, don't you?"

You couldn't help smiling as you closed your eyes, relishing in this little moment of affection Joe created.

"You have no idea..." you started, humour in your tone. "How long I struggled to get her to put on her shoes the other day. And guess how that whole altercation ended?"

Joe kept his face stuck to yours, not moving away in between kisses, just making noises with his lips against your cheek.

"Who ended putting the shoes on?"

"Was it you?" Joe spoke out of the sides of his mouth, all hot air against your skin, unintentionally raspberrying you as he did.

"It was me." you confirmed, and you let a laugh escape in a huff through your nose.

"Hmm," Joe mused, moving to press his forehead against yours. "Just means you're nurturing. Caring. So sweet, and kind."

You got a kiss pressed to your lips.

"Yea, well... would just be nice if she listened to me like she listens to... well, literally anyone else. Not to, you know–"

You didn't want Joe to think he fell into that category. He very much wasn't literally anyone else to Hazel.

"I know." Joe understood.

"She– you definitely are dad, you–"

"I know. I was trying to compliment you, just accept it. You're a great mum." Joe shut you up, pressed more kisses to your mouth and let his arms wrap tighter.

You stood in Hazel's bedroom's doorway and let yourself drown in Joe's fondness for you. Joe showed it all the time, but there weren't many moments where you stopped everything you had going on to fully accept it for a moment.

And Joe lived for these moments.

It was only short-lived though. It always was.

From the living room you heard a crash of block, followed by a silence that then got broken by beginning cries from Hazel.

They quickly grew in volume.

You were about to pull away from Joe, already mentally picking Hazel up from the floor to hug close to your chest. But Joe held you and said, "Wait..." as he turned his ear towards the living room, listening. Waiting.

It just took a second longer for Hazel to start to cry out for her mum, and a smile spread across Joe's face.

"See? Mum. She needs you. No way that she was going to call out for anyone else. It's why we make such a great team."

You rolled your eyes as Joe made his point, finally losing his tight grip so you could make your way over.

Joe followed and watched as you bent over to pick up a crying Hazel who was holding a small hand to her head next to a big pile of wooden blocks. It was obvious a tower had fallen over and she'd gotten hurt in the process.

You shushed her and swayed as you comforted her, asking her if she'd hurt her head, if it was the blocks that got her.

Hazel's soft whimpers confirming that it had been the wooden blocks made Joe pout at her sad little voice.

When you turned to look at him, Joe's face smoothed out.

"Great mum." he mouthed, and you scrunched up your nose in response.

"Great team." you mouthed back.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #icallhimjoey #baby hazel #hazel

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bubuslutty · 1 month

Text

40-something Moon Man ROCKS the Dancefloor! (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!)

pairing: Marc Spector & Female Reader

word count: 4026

warnings: none

summary:

Marc Spector accidentally goes viral on TikTok after his uni student neighbour/friend drags him to the club with her.

a/n: i wrote this in a silly goofy mood and i love marc sooo much <3 Also I used Darling instead of Y/n cuz im funky like that.

“Please, Marc.” Darling begged the 40-something man while he tried to clean his flat.

“No.” Marc answered flatly, wearing a very washed-out and loose t-shirt and a pair of dark blue shorts. His hair, now longer was tied at the back of his head in a tiny man bun.

“Why??? We’ll have so much fun and you need a night out to dislodge the stick up your ass.” Darling groaned and fell on her knees in the kitchen, ready to hold onto his legs and beg if need be. Marc sighed and ignored the 19-year-old teenager on his kitchen floor as he cracked another window open and increased the volume of the radio on the window ledge, BBC Radio 1 playing a Central Cee song in the flat as he picked up stray books, papers, food wrappers, socks and random junk, a bin bag clutched in one hand and a laundry basket clutched in his other arm.

Marc finally got himself to start cleaning his flat, he read that it would help his mental health to live in a cleaner space. That’s why she was over, she was meant to help him clean so it wouldn’t be too overwhelming on his own, and motivate him to get on with cleaning so he finished faster and could escape her non-ending yapping sessions. But now, it seemed like she was more interested in annoying him, which is literally second nature now, a natural reaction she had to him, annoying the shit out of Marc.

I mean, he could literally kick her out, and scare her enough that she’ll leave him alone for good, he’s done it before, to other people. He’s tried, but she’s Steven’s friend and he can’t do that to him. And he knows deep down he actually enjoys her presence and would kill anyone that hurts her then himself. He cannot lie, the kid had a big heart and was incredibly kind and patient. He was a little jealous that her parents were able to make a girl like that because Marc knew he could never produce that level of goodness into the world. He can never come close. She was too good.

Marc dropped the basket on a chair and the trash bag on top of it, letting out a long sigh and putting his hands on his hips. “Why do you want me to go with you?”

Darling’s miserable puppy eyes immediately vanished and she got up from the floor, walking up to him with a huge grin on her face. “Well, first of all, you’re my friend, and I like hanging out with you.” Marc raised one brow and didn’t say anything.

“I found this club with great music and I really want to try it out,” Darling said shrugging.

“Why don’t you go with your friends? People your own age.” Marc asked, his arms now crossed over his chest. “People from my uni are… I never really enjoyed going out with them, sure, nothing terrible happened cuz we always stuck together but uh-” Darling tried to explain and Marc failed to understand why the hell she wanted him to go with her out of all people.

“I’ll just be in the way if I go with you. And I can always pick you up at the end of the night, you know?” Marc said and Darling frowned in confusion, “In the way of what?”

Marc almost laughed in disbelief but held it together, “Don’t you want a boyfriend? No one will get close to you if I’m with you.”

Darling looked unimpressed, “What boyfriend? You mean drunk finance bros with an Andrew Tate mentality? Plus, I don’t do hookups, I have anxiety, mate.” Marc was confused and Darling remembered he wasn’t as chronically online as she was, so he probably had no idea who the abomination of a man was.

“I just want the experience. I just want to dress up and dance all night without men I don’t know breathing down my neck.” Darling explained, picking lint up from her way too big t-shirt with a Pikachu plastered on the front, so she wouldn’t have to look at him in the eyes.

Marc understood and thought about it for a second before picking up the trash bag and walking to the area that was his kitchen and putting it on the floor, next to the bin. “You want me to be your bodyguard?”

Darling’s head snapped up, eyes wide, “No! I mean- Yeah, sure..”

Marc pondered over the thought and asked, “When?”

“This Friday.” Darling quickly answered, smiling big and all, excitement radiating off her in waves.

“Alright, but so you know, I don’t dance.” That’s also what Chad from High School Musical said but go off. Darling knew to keep her mouth shut instead of calling him out.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” She squealed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Alright, enough.” He grumbled even though he was smiling, and ripped her away with his hands on her shoulders. “You won’t regret this,” Darling promised and Marc just nodded, he’ll see about that.

“Now, do me a favour,” Marc said, turning around and picking up two trash bags in his hands. “Take out the trash.”

Darling groaned and Marc fixed her with a look and her shoulders slumped, taking the bags out of the door to put them downstairs.

🌙

“How do I look? Be honest.” Darling asked, standing in the corridors as Marc locked his door and shoved the keys in his pockets, his black leather jacket held in his other hand.

Marc straightened his back and analysed her outfit from head to toe. She was wearing a sleeveless, backless sparkly blue top paired with jean shorts and white trainers. Simply put, she looked pretty and it surprised Marc a little, he didn’t know she was capable of wearing anything but washed-out old t-shirts with unhinged slogans on them. It was an addiction at this point, she loved buying the weirdest t-shirts she could find on the internet. She even bought him a t-shirt once that said “I lactate”. And swear to God, Marc almost killed her right then and there. It’s still ranked as one of her “biggest Ws” whatever the fuck that meant.

“Not ugly,” Marc answered flatly and Darling grinned, that was Marc’s way of saying she looked nice.

“And you look great, did Jake pick the clothes?” She asked, looking him over.

“No.” Marc lied and she giggled, because the one who dressed cunty every single time without fail, was Jake, and unfortunately, Marc didn’t possess the level of serve Jake did.

Marc was wearing a black short-sleeved button-up, unbuttoned at the top, where his David’s star necklace glinted against his tan chest, paired with black trousers and black shoes. Simple, clean. His hair was brushed back this time, but still, some curls fell over his forehead no matter how many times he ran his fingers through it.

“Let’s go,” Darling said after checking she had everything she needed in her small handbag.

The two decided to take the underground rather than Jake’s cab because it was faster than being stuck in traffic in central London. It was a bit busy and lots of people looked like they were heading to clubs and pubs for the night, dressed in all sorts of manner. Marc was honestly just looking around and taking everything in, he had never witnessed London’s nightlife like this, maybe saw some things from rooftops while tracking someone, but that didn’t count.

He saw an alarming amount of young men dressed in techs, standing in hoards. And girls wearing matching bodycon dresses. The underground station was hot, extremely loud and stinky. Darling was standing next to him, complaining about the prices that TFL charged. How ridiculously expensive the tube and trains were, even with a student oyster. He just hoped he wouldn’t get a nasty headache by the end of the night.

They hopped on the tube when it came, screeching to a stop, people spilling out of it in crowds. When they got in, they sat across each other as more people sat around them. And if it couldn’t get any louder, a man walked in with a big speaker resting on his shoulder and a cracked iPhone gripped in his other hand. “Bassline Junkie” blasted loudly as he sang along, and soon enough, a group of rowdy teenagers, around Darling’s age, started singing along too. Darling started laughing and Marc watched as the man started approaching them, goading the sitting people to get up and start singing with him. Darling got up and shouted the lyrics at some girls as they sang together. They somehow managed to drag Darling away from her seat, holding each other and singing loudly, multiple phones recording the scene. When they reached their stop, Marc got up and pulled Darling by the hand out of the tube before they missed it.

“BYE!” She shouted over her shoulder, laughing and breathing hard.

Marc let go of her hand and watched her put her hands on her knees, panting and straightening, fixing her hair and looking at Marc with bright eyes, “I’ve never done that before.”

He smiled a little, “Good job.”

“To the club!” Darling pointed in the direction of the gates, pulling Marc by his arm.

When they left the station, Darling let out a shuddering breathing, suddenly feeling very cold in the polluted crisp air of London. Marc noticed and frowned, “Don’t get sick.”

“Wow, thank you, Marc.” Darling rolled her eyes and started walking down the street, Marc following her behind. She turned around, walking backwards, “By the way, I have your jacket so I won’t get sick.”

“I’m not giving you my jacket, dipshit.” Marc said and Darling rolled her eyes, “Yeah, whatever you say.”

They spent 30 minutes trying to figure out where the hell that club was, bickering while following the map on Darling’s phone. At some point, she ended up locking arms with Marc after a rando whistled after her when she walked by and had to physically stop Marc from turning around and bashing the man’s face in.

When they finally reached the club, Darling was so excited and Marc had a hand wrapped around the back of her neck, guiding her through the crowds of people to the bar so they could get a drink in their system first and take in the place. “You’re paying, by the way,” Darling said over the loud music, taking a sip of her cocktail, this drink will probably be her first and last. She didn’t plan on throwing up on the pavement, and she wants to be able to remember tonight.

“You’re the one taking me out, aren’t you supposed to be paying?” Marc asked, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. “I’m paying for kebabs later. 50/50, yeah?” She said and he hummed.

He looked around and noticed how a lot of people were dressed, it faintly reminded him of the early 2000s with twists to fit today’s fashion trends. He could tell that this was the look Darling was going for, then he finally allowed himself to actually hear the music and was surprised when Flo Rida was blasting from the speakers, the floor vibrating under the weight of the bass.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Darling said after she finished her drink and dragged him on the dance floor, drink still in hand. Rihanna was now playing and Marc was a little mortified because he doesn’t remember the last time he danced in a club. Darling gave him encouraging nods while she practised a Just Dance routine without missing a beat as Marc nodded to the music, finishing his drink and trying not to laugh at her and failing miserably.

At some point Darling got rid of his empty glass for him and ran back, almost crashing face-first on his chest if he didn’t catch her. “THAT’S MY SONG!” She shouted over the music and Marc immediately recognised the beat. It was that Usher song that even the aliens from outer space could recognise, the one and only: “Yeah!”. Marc was a little confused because he was sure as hell she wasn’t even born when it came out.

“I WAS BORN TO SERVE CUNT AND SLAY THE CLUB!” She shrieked and Marc knew she must be out of her mind because there’s no way one drink made her say shit like that. He was dragged to the centre of the dance floor and Darling started busting moves he never saw her do, and Marc had to admit, she was a good dancer. But he was a great dancer.

He ran a hand through his curly hair and watched her dance with fire in her eyes. Marc smirked. Alright , if this is how this is going to go, then so be it. He popped another button open from the top of the shirt and rolled his neck, getting his muscles loose, nodding to the beat. Darling watched him as she bounced with the beat and honest to God, Marc started krumping. Krumping in the club.

Darling’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and she screamed in delight, hyping him up with her whole body, “I knew you could do it!”

He was good. Really good.

So good in fact that the people around them started to notice and the space between them got bigger, creating a clear space where they could see Marc and Darling better. Darling didn’t even notice, her eyes glued to Marc who was absolutely destroying the dance floor. She didn’t even notice the phones pulled out to record the scene. And when it looked like Darling was starting to lose against Marc, a random girl squeezed herself through the crowd, handing Darling her drink and started dancing battling Marc. Darling was losing her mind, laughing and having the time of her life. The crowd hyped both the girl and Marc.

Marc was smiling the whole time, his curls moving this and that way, now falling over his eyes, sticking to his forehead. His face was warm and his necklace kept constantly swinging as he ate up every single person who decided to battle him. In between songs, he kept being offered drinks while Darling kept complimenting his skills. She was proud to get him out of his shell and was genuinely so grateful that everything went as planned. But most importantly, she was proud of him.

Hours later, by the time they left the club, the two were walking down the streets, singing together to a Britney Spears song, arms linked and still warm and sweaty. Darling had Marc’s (Well, it was actually Jake’s) leather jacket draped over her shoulders, keeping her shielded from the cold wind. Meanwhile, Marc may as well unbutton his shirt all the way down and take it off because it was sticking to him and a huge, very generous chunk of his chest could be seen, still shining with drying sweat. His hair was a little crazy because no matter what he tried to do, it refused to stay still and he didn’t have anything to hold it with. But that’s alright, he looked very pretty and he had a great time to care about his hair at the moment.

The two made their way to the first kebab place they saw. “What do you want?” She asked, looking at the old and worn menu above the counter, on the wall. “A number 2.”

“Bossman, let me get two number 2s and two Coke Zero’s.” Darling said and the man nodded, “£22.98, please.” Darling reached for her purse. “I got it,” Marc said, digging in his pocket for notes before she had the chance to protest.

“I was going to pay.” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes, feeling tired.

“You can pay next time.” He said, patting her head.

“You always say that and you never let me.” She complained, leaning her weight against him, cheek squished against his warm arm. “Yeah, yeah.” Marc checked his phone for any notifications and scrolled a bit while waiting for their food to be done. When they got their food, they left the joint because there were literally no seats in there, you just collect your food and leave. Marc held the plastic bag in one hand and wrapped the other around Darling’s shoulder just in case she tripped, she didn’t drink much but she exhausted herself to the bone, and he didn’t want to end up in the ER looking after her.

“Do you want to eat in the tube?” He asked.

“No, I’ll get sick. Aren’t there any chairs anywhere?” She asked.

Marc hummed and looked around, spotting a park? A garden? It was really small and fenced, and in the middle, there was a big statue of a man Marc couldn’t recognise. He walked closer and saw that there was an empty bench inside. Perfect.

They got settled down, Marc unwrapped their food and Darling complained about the cold bench against her thighs. “Sit on the jacket.” He said, opening his Coke and taking a sip.

“But then my back will touch the bench.” She complained and Marc rolled his eyes.

“Just eat your food.” He said and they dug in.

They didn’t speak for a long time, both looking up at the dark sky. There were no stars to be seen due to the city lights, but they could see the moon and the clouds. It was as peaceful as London could get. When they were done, they collected the trash in the plastic bag but didn’t move, still sitting on the bench, looking at the moon together. “Uhm-” Marc spoke and Darling turned to look at him. As soon as she met his eyes, he snapped his mouth shut.

Darling didn’t say anything, just looked at him with an open expression, eyes heavy-lidded due to sleepiness. Marc licked his lower lip and parted his lips to speak but nothing came out. So instead, he opted for squeezing one of her knees in his warm hand, trying to make her understand what he was trying to say with his eyes.

He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to say that he appreciated her taking him out with her. He appreciated her patience and kindness. He appreciated how she never judged him for being himself. How she was brave and strong and didn’t get scared easily.

And Darling understood.

🌙

It was around 12 in the afternoon the next day when Darling got a text message from one of her uni friends. She frowned in confusion, she usually never received any messages from them during the weekends. She put her spoon in her cereal bowl as she chewed, and paused the YouTube video she was watching on her laptop.

Darling opened the message. It was two messages actually, one of them read, “Is this you?” And the other was a link.

She suddenly felt scared as her finger hovered over the link, she was sure she had a good digital footprint. I mean, she had profiles where family and friends followed, and she also had separate accounts online where she caused havoc without revealing her identity. And she was sure there was no way anyone she knew in real life could find her accounts and link them to her. She was careful.

Darling opened the link and instead of loading in a browser tab, it opened the TikTok app. Now, what the hell is this?

At first, she didn’t know what she was looking at, but her brain caught on and she felt like screaming. It was a video of the day before, from the club. There she was dancing battling Marc in the middle of the circle. Her jaw was on the floor, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Then she looked at the likes and screamed because why did it have 2M likes?

Her finger pressed the comment section before she could think and was flooded with comments like “This is what I mean when I say I want to go to the club”, “Okay but why did he eat?”, “Where is this??”, “Get this man in a Step Up movie NOW”, “Goo Goo Ga Ga”.

Darling leapt off the bed laughing and scrambled out of her flat, phone in hand. She didn’t even bother to wear slippers and instead ran over next door, Steven’s door, knocking quickly. When the door didn’t open in a millisecond, she turned the doorknob and walked inside without bothering to shut the door properly behind her, “Marc, you have to see this!”

Marc was in bed, shirtless and wearing a pair of loose PJ bottoms, wearing his reading glasses as he read his book. Well, he wasn’t reading it now . He was looking at Darling with an annoyed expression. She ignored it and ran to him, but not without throwing a quick “Hi, Gus” to the tank. She dived knees first on his bed and he sighed, slamming his book shut and placing it on the bedside table.

“What do you want?”

“Look!” She held her phone in front of his face and he tried to comprehend what he was looking at. Darling saw the moment he realised what it was, he grabbed the phone with both hands, a look of horror plastered on his face. “All of London saw the video. You’re viral, Marc.”

“Delete it.” He said without ripping his eyes from the screen.

“What?” Darling frowned.

“Delete it. Right now.” He repeated.

“It’s not my video. I can’t delete it.” Darling said and Marc dropped the phone in his lap, gathering his head in his hands, groaning. He truly had fun, but he didn’t know how he felt about all of London seeing this video.

Darling picked up her phone again, “I’m going to send it to DuChamp, he’s going to love it.”

Marc screamed and ripped the phone away from her hands, scaring her. She got scared not because he had taken her phone but because she never heard the man scream before. “Give it back!” She said, trying to grab her phone but Marc didn’t let her. It was a struggle because not only Marc was stronger, way stronger, but he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt so she didn’t have any grip on him, except his shoulders and hair. But she knew if she even thought about pulling his hair he’d throw her out of the window. “I’m going to report the video so it can be taken down.” He said and Darling gasped, “You don’t even know how to do that! You never used TikTok in your life, boomer!”

“Watch me,” Marc said through gritted teeth as Darling struggled against him, then she somehow managed to wrap her arms around his free arm and threw herself down on the bed, back first and swung her legs up to wrap them around his head, choking him. Marc let out a surprised shout, his eyes sent 500 million invisible daggers to Darling. He threw the phone down on the floor, out of her reach and lifted her off the bed, her legs still wrapped around his neck and she screamed when he flipped them around and slammed her down on the bed, head first, WWE style.

The two kept wrestling and clawing at each other until Darling ended up in a headlock, Marc squishing her body on the bed with his whole weight, “Help!” She wheezed, clawing at him, trying to get away from him. “Quit it.” He hissed as she tried to kick him with the heel of her foot on his ass.

A cough startled the two out of their fight, both of them looked up and Marc froze.

“What are you…doing?” Layla asked, looking at Marc, then back down at Darling. She had her phone in her hand, and a big Tesco shopping bag in the other. God bless her heart, she brought her disaster of not-technically-divorced husband groceries.

“Oooh, is that the bad bitch you fumbled-”

🌙

Tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @bobastayhigh @weblesstherains @h-leigh @unspokenmoon @ahookedheroespureheart @thursdaywritings @gebstargeb @softieekayy @fem-moony @peachjellypackets @pakhiya @darlinglittledevil @anixluxtt @mrs-cupidd @gebgeb @poeticabomination

this work is part of the "I'm friends with the moon" series. You can read it as a stand-alone or delve deeper into this AU.

62 notes · View notes

destiel-wings · 2 months

Note

I hope you don't mind me asking, but what are your thoughts on angel x buffy? :)

Hii i don't mind, thank you for asking 😊

So, I used to love bangel sooooo much when i first watched the show. I was 100% into it, (with a crush for Boreanaz too) and i cried so much for them in s2 and when Angel left the show in s3. And I truly, sincerely, unironically hated Spike too (I thought he was a great character but i just loved hating him, you know? Lol). When we saw Spike's dream of kissing Buffy I swear i felt nauseous.

... and then they aired Fool for love.

By the end of that episode I was left in utter existential crisis in front of my tv because i felt my whole world shift. There was a part of me that still liked Angel and Buffy, but there was also this new part that wanted her to be with Spike now.

So anyway, that's when i decided to switch teams and i became team spuffy, and for as much as i had been obsessed with bangel before, it was nothing compared to how deep i was caught into the Buffy and Spike relationship. I never looked back. They were just much more complex and real and compelling. And it made me reevaluate Angel and her relationship with him too. Angel never really knew Buffy, always treated her like a child, and let's be honest--and that's something that hit me only years later when I got older--she was a child when they were together. He was spying on her and falling in love with her when she was just fifteen years old and he was a 240-year-old vampire who had been sired at like 26 years old, and they got together when she was 16/17 and he broke up with her when she turned 18... I don't think that's something the writers did intentionally of course, because (as everything else in buffy) it's just meant to be taken as a metaphor for the ideals and struggles and the intensity of drama of a girl's first love, but it still comes off as icky.

And before anyone comes at me, I know spuffy isn't healthy either, but that's kinda the point and the appeal. First of all, it's fiction and a metaphor, and secondly, it's about two broken people that are supposed to be mortal enemies but are actually two sides of the same coin, so different and yet so much the same, who can understand each other as a whole, light and darkness, in a way that no one else ever could, who yes, hurt each other along the way, but whose love saved them from the deepest darkness, ultimately bringing them into the light.

This is what spuffy is to me, and this is why i think it's not only the superior ship, but one of the best ships of all time (thee best, until i saw destiel, now they're sharing the podium).

So anyway, to get back to your question, the moment i became obsessed with Buffy and Spike (and i have been ever since 2005, lmao, they've been my first real obsession, alongside btvs, until spn and destiel) Angel sort of became the enemy 😅. And I hated him so so so so so much when he appeared in 7x21 and kissed Buffy (pure fanservice, but okay) and brought the medallion that ultimately killed Spike. So i spent years very maturely holding my vendetta against Angel (like, rooting for every demon that fought against him when I watched Angel, lmaoo). In most recent years, I've (sort of) made my peace with the character, after rewatching Angel. I mean he's still the enemy (of course, duh!! Who am i if not eternally petty??) but i appreciate him in his own show.

So i don't ship Angel and Buffy anymore, but I can understand why someone would (as i myself used to), and more importantly, i respect other people's right to ship them.

If we're joking, I'm going to insult Angel and keep saying he's the enemy. But on a mature serious note, I think Buffy and Angel were a great first love (for Buffy), but they were supposed to be just that, the impossible teenage girl's dream of a first love, eternal but doomed to end and break your heart.

I think Angel was much more well paired with Cordelia (which is something I'd never think I'd say), and i found myself shipping them so much when I rewatched the show. It felt so much more mature and profound than what we saw with Buffy and Angel (and that's probably due to the fact that we got slow burn for them - as we did for Buffy and Spike- and could actually see the feelings growing, while Buffy crushed on Angel in the pilot and she was madly in love (as teenagers do) in 0.5 seconds for no apparent reason than the fact that he was hot and mysterious.

So when I say the kiss in btvs 7x21 makes zero sense, I'm not just talking about spuffy, but also about cangel. I feel like both characters parted ways and lived on in their own shows to grow and become their own persons, developing other relationships that were more adult and meaningful, and that kiss was just disrespectful for both (but anyways, it doesn't change anything).

I have so many thoughts about all this honestly, and I hope I haven't gone too much off the tangent with my reply, but i couldn't just give you a simple reply because that would've had to be something like "angel is the enemy and i don't like bangel" but as you can see my thoughts are a little more complex than that 😅

#btvs #spuffy #spuffy vs bangel #anti bangel #buffy x spike #angel x cordelia #cangel #my commentary #my opinion #asks #asks answered #@anniemurphy #sorry it took me a little while to reply but i wanted to give a thoughtful answer <3

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sporesgalaxy · 9 months

Note

Could you explain your stance on the barbie movie? I thought its message was great, personally. Barbie established she didn't need a boyfriend to be complete and her new friends explained to her that living as a woman was extremely difficult but worth it to try. The men realized they didn't need to either impress the women or prove their masculinity. Everyone learned they were enough being who they are. And they said that the meager beginnings of the men getting a place in Barbie government mirrored how women were gaining a place in the real world, and that they all needed to keep trying. What about that rubbed you the wrong way?

Let me preface by saying that my beef with the Barbie movie is a pretty lean beef. For example, I think the average MCU movie does wayyyyyyy more damage in the way of propoganda, excusing institutional violence, etc. than the Barbie movie.

However, I think that ideological thouroughness is important in kids media, so I enjoy picking it apart like this.

Shortened points first, full rambling explaining them below cut.

1. The Kens had to be tricked into fighting each other by the Barbies.

3. Corporate personification / auteur theory with the creator of Barbie.

4. It was never going to be transgender and I knew this but it would've owned if it was transgender.

•••

1. The Kens had to be tricked into fighting each other by the Barbies. It made it seem like toxic masculinity would function perfectly as a utopia for men if never interrupted by the actions of women. I know Barbieland doesnt function by reality logic but it couldve been a strong vehichle for allegorically representing feminist philosophy. When it Didn't Do That Strong Allegory Thing I was disappointed.

2. Made weak and inconclusive gestures toward the issues of corporate greed, corporate sexism, consumerism, and the pivotal role that gender essentialism and the aesthetics thereof play in fascist propoganda. I get it if you don't want to address those things in your Barbie movie. I expected that. However, they were all brought up as jokes rather than just being left out. This feels more belittling towards the issues than just pretending they don't exist, honestly? Like oh ha-ha the teenager called Barbie a Fascist, isn't that ridiculous? Let's never look deeper into this because it's just SO ridiculous. And while I don't think Barbie is inherently fascist I think acknowledging that hyperfeminine aesthetics can and have actually been used as tools for fascism is important.

3. Corporate personification / auteur theory with the creator of Barbie. Mattel doesnt have any ghostly nice old ladies approving the decisions made there, obviously. They weren't trying to literally convince us of that, but in spirit they want you to feel that Mattel the corporation does hold value Ruth's interests. And sure, lots of people at Mattel are probably inspired by Ruth. But firstly Ruth was a real person and I'm just tired in general of people elevating creators to the level of minor deity. And secondly, Barbie products exist because of the creative teams behind them, and I wish those creative teams had been appreciated or even mentioned. I felt the abstracted businessman characters served only to personify Mattel the corporation as endearingly bumbling and ultimately looking out for girls. I understand that many things in the movie are meant to be taken as abstractions but this kind of personification is already done ALL THE TIME and people actually buy into it. So seeing it ywt again was just a bit disappointing.

4. I'm getting tired and this is the least based on the actual movie. Transgenderism wouldve rocked but it was nowhere to be found. Tragic.

#asks

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unicorncornflakes · 10 months

Text

Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 10

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx @jennifer0305 @ammo23 @iloveallmyboys @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @okfashionista @shelbyteller @dahlias-and-marigolds @the-knights-of-ne

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader . Thank you so much :D

Word Count: 5.8K

Alys had never been so in love in her entire life as she was with Daemon. It was a reality. A fact. A bad joke of fate. She had never believed in love. She was a being that had been used by men so many times that she didn't believe in that concept or venerate it. Stories of prince charming were fine for others, not for her. Her father had made that clear by not even marrying her mother after getting her pregnant. He had kept his perfect wife and Alys had been born as a bastard. She had seen her mother prostitute herself to feed Alys. One man after another had mounted her when she thought Alys was asleep. So, yes, Alys didn't believe in happy endings. She believed in survival and what it took to eat. However, with Daemon Targaryen, the young secretary made the exception.

She always remembered gawping at him as he said goodbye to a client. A perfect, joyous smile painted on her red lips as Daemon did and undid at his pleasure as CEO of Targaryen Industries. He always winked at her before going back to his office, not a word. Just a wink that he hid much more than they both wanted to reveal to the world. She was efficient in her work, correct and determined. It was what her boss always told her that made her stand out from the rest. However, quickly, the relationship between the two changed. Maybe because of Alys. Maybe Daemon's fault.

It was the end of the quarter. A much younger Alys fresh out of college stayed up late working with Daemon, the desire of almost every girl in King's Landing then, and perhaps Westeros. She remembered how hot it was on that early summer night. The air conditioning had broken in the building, but they were still working, there were reports to finish so they could file the quarterly, and Alys, that efficient and determined girl, was in her boss's office, working like the others, like even Daemon himself. The truth is that the company always seemed to be a company of mercenaries and opportunists under the command of Daemon, who was the biggest opportunist of them all. But, to her, such a young girl she didn't care. If she had been a teenager, she would have had her room filled with pictures of him from the floor to the ceiling. She always tried to calm her racing heart in his presence. That night she was no exception.

Daemon leaned back in his chair and removed his tie. It was too hot for formalities, and Alys only glanced at him to continue typing on her computer. Unlike what Aemond had done many years later, Daemon had her desk inside his own office. Daemon was always talking about what a great team they were and how lucky he was to have her as his secretary. He was smooth talker. Alys knew it and yet she consented to it. She allowed it because the girl had been torn apart by all the men in her life had finally found someone who praised her. Daemon sighed trying to understand a report.

“Why the hell does Tyland put in this report that revenue for the 101 has outpaced the 585?” he asked desperately. He took another swallow of his whiskey. Everything Aemond smoked, Daemon drank. It seemed as if the vices could never leave any of the Targaryens. The question was rhetorical, yet Alys spoke.

"Because the income of the 101 model has exceeded 585, that's why he puts it," she said, stopping writing for a moment. She was hot too, but at that moment when Daemon looked at her with that mischievous smile and those eyes that always stripped her naked, she felt even hotter. She even felt all her skin crawl.

"Are you hungry, Alys?" he asked her. His eyes scanned her from top to bottom. She knew that at that time she was an extremely attractive girl. She knew it and she had always played with it. She told herself that, unlike her mother, she would not be fooled by any man. Poor her, she didn't know how wrong she was.

"Well, it's late. This quarterly is taking us longer than I thought,” she said honestly, returning to her screen, ready to continue working. "I'll eat something when I get home" she replied with a shrug.

"Don't be silly." Daemon picked up the phone, and after a brief call, Alys's biggest dream came true. She was having dinner with Daemon Targaryen. It was true that it was not the glamorous dinner that she had imagined, but eating that oriental meal with Daemon while they talked about company things made her go on cloud nine.

Alys laughed for a moment at Daemon's bad joke and he looked at his food again, with a sincere half-smile on his lips, or at least as sincere as the man could manage. Alys tried to tell herself that they called him the Lord of Flea Bottom for a reason, but he was so charming she couldn't stop herself. She was in love with him, like a young lady with a movie star. He was hers, all hers. Everything for a girl who had never had anything.

“So the model that Cregan has designed has made me more money than the one that Viserys has designed?” he asked her secretary as they continued to eat dinner. A report in his hand while in the other he held the chopsticks that allowed him to eat. Alys nodded, always correct as she took a bite of her noodles and swallowed hard so she could respond to her boss as quickly as possible.

"Yes, it's been surprising, but Cregan has been more than efficient lately," she answered quickly, ending up wiping her red lips on her napkin. She knew that way there shouldn't be any more lipstick on them, and she felt ridiculous. She always had to wear her perfect lips, that's how she liked it. An image always perfect and impeccable.

"I'd like to know what has happened to our little pup to become so efficient," Daemon replied,with a small chuckle that escaped his teeth, and continued looking at the report. Alys looked at him and smiled sincerely.

"It's because he says that he has married the most beautiful woman in the world" Alys replied. The truth is that she did not believe in men, but those sweet words from the northerner made her believe that there was even someone out there for her. However, Daemon sneered and looked at Alys with a raised eyebrow, amused and arrogant.

"Well, he'll tell me in a couple of months. My bronze bitch and I attest that this initial crush wears off and then… after that everything is crap” Daemon confessed and Alys blushed at the way he was looking at her. She would never have thought that there was anything between Daemon and his wife. It was true that he spent many hours in the office and many more disappeared, but they were always seen smiling so much on TV and in magazines. "Alys, aren't you always hot with your blouse buttoned up to your neck?" he smiled suggestively at her, and Alys remembered blushing even more, but she had unbuttoned her blouse and Daemon had walked over to her. She remembered that hungry kiss he had given her. All the sexual tension that had existed between them culminated in that moment and Daemon devoured her in silence. She remembered ending up naked in that leather chair Daemon kept in his office. She remembered ending up sweaty and panting and happy, spread-eagled for Daemon Targaryen. She had been as stupid as her mother. No. No. She tried to convince herself that her relationship with her boss was different. Completely different. She remembered getting up naked from the sofa while Daemon was still sleeping on it, really exhausted, in the middle of that hot early summer night. She wanted to drink water and then she stepped on a piece of paper that was on the ground. It was the dinner ticket. She picked it up to add it as business expenses, and then she found to her amazement that the dinner had cost 20 dragons. Alys Rivers had sold herself for 20 dragons, but she didn't care. She was in love.

A short time later, Rhea Joyce, Daemon Targaryen's first wife, fell from her horse. A terrible horse accident that had ended up breaking her neck. Everyone was talking about how spectacular and terrible the accident was. A few voices spoke of what a coincidence it was that Daemon had been present the one time he had gone horseback riding with her. However, Alys did not believe that. Like a good lover, she stood by Daemon's side and comforted him as appropriate during that time. Daemon then explained that their relationship was above labels and conventions. Now it was Alys who was in the magazines with Daemon. But, they were not a traditional couple. Daemon kept sleeping with other women and Alys didn't even suffer from it. The one with him at the end of the day was her. She was the one who truly possessed Daemon Targaryen's heart. Or so she told herself even when he decided to marry Laena Velaryon. Daemon begged her not to leave him as his lover. This marriage was just a strategic ruse. The only one he loved was her. And Alys believed it, she believed it because she just wanted to believe it, even though a little voice in her head told her it wasn't true, she was being like her mother, and everything broke even more when a very young Rhaenyra Targaryen appeared in her life. Alys told herself that no woman should sell herself for a dinner of only 20 dragons.

"I wish we could go on like this for all eternity," you whispered to Aemond. Completely naked like him, you were hugging his body. Your head resting on his chest as you listened to the quiet beat of his heart. He was lying on the enormous bed of that hotel, with one of his arms around your shoulders while he caressed the bare skin of your shoulder and the other was under his neck. The dawn light filtered through the curtains of that expensive and minimalist room of the best hotel in the city. And you didn't think you could be happier. You wished that time would stop and that you could be there forever with Aemond, in perfect tune and harmony. You were tired but happy. You had hardly slept, but you were with the man you loved in a perfect place. You heard Aemond smile at your words.

"Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?" he asked you, pulling your body even closer to his. His eye fixed on the ceiling of the room. “We can spend the whole day here if that's what you want. I can pay it” he replied arrogantly and you leaned on his chest to look into his eye. He raised his face slightly to look at you, but didn't move from his position. You laughed sweetly and he thought his heart would explode with happiness. He had ever been so happy in his life.

"You know I'm not talking about money..." you said, looking down and biting your lip nervously. He sighed and his hand grabbed your chin so that you would look into his eye again. Every time you looked at him you thought there was not a more attractive man in all the seven kingdoms. Aemond was perfect, even the stolid blue prosthetic seemed perfect to you. "I don't want things to change again."

"And they won't, I promise, (Y/N)" his face cradled you and you equally brought one of your hands to his as he caressed you. "I've been a real asshole all this time."

"It's a good thing you said so..." you told him rolling your eyes, half sad, half happy, and he laughed. You thought it was the first time you saw him laugh without a sneer on his lips and he seemed to you the most perfect man in the world.

“I will not allow anything to separate us. You have my word” he whispered to you softly, sincerely… and you smiled as pretty as you could, as if that was the best thing that had ever happened to you, perhaps because it was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You caressed his chest while he continued to look at you in silence, with a grimace that was somewhere between happiness and disbelief. "Now that I think about it... I haven't given you my gift" he said getting up from the bed, almost jumping, going to his coat. You laughed and pulled the sheet over you as he walked slowly and surely toward his black coat. You would never tell him but you didn't know how he could put up with something like that even in summer, although you knew he would tell you that it was part of his image. He was back to being the same as always with you, and you couldn't be happier. "Close your eyes" he told you, turning to you. And sitting on the edge of the bed. You laughed out loud.

"Nooo, I already know this" you replied, laughing sweetly while you covered your mouth flirtatiously and looked at him suggestively. "Bryden made me close my eyes once and I only found his cock in front of him when I opened them" you commented amused, remembering that anecdote that you thought was ridiculous and funny in equal measure. But, then you just saw your uncle tense up and look away. Imagining you with another man was too much for him, always would be.

"I'm not Bryden" he told you through his teeth. All the happiness that had reigned at that moment vanished. You saw him jealous again and you mentally noted that you would never talk about any subject like that with him again. You had not acted well, but it had only been a joke.

"No, of course not... you're better" you told him while your arms wrapped around his nec and your lips kissed him. You almost felt like he was loosening up with your attentions. When you finished the kiss and opened your eyes, he looked back at the ground while he looked at the small box that he had in his hands. The logo of one of the most expensive jewelry stores in all of King's Landing was on it. "It was just a joke..." you said almost regretting speaking, as if you had messed everything up.

"It disgusts me to imagine that disgusting bastard touching something as beautiful as a Targaryen, just like Cregan" he confessed to you, wrinkling his face in a sneer. “You and I… You and I are made for each other. At last we are with what we deserve... ”he told you, looking into your eyes, raising his chin, almost as if he was giving you a lesson about what you really were. "We are Targaryens, (Y / N)" he told you as he gave you the small box of that jewelry.

You took it, almost nervous at that confession. The conversation you had had two summers ago where he had told you about the importance of blood and the last name was more important than ever. You opened it under his watchful eye and when you saw the contents inside the box you looked at him again in astonishment for a few moments only to quickly return your gaze to the jewel that was inside that velvet-lined box. "Aemond, this must be very expensive" you said, looking at him again and he smiled satisfied when he saw your reaction.

“It's not something Bryen could give you, that's true. Not even Cregan ” he told you with an arrogant smile, making it clear that he was the best choice, the best among all the partners you had ever had. While looking at your incredulous eyes and the smile that escaped from your lips, Aemond couldn't help but think that he could provide you with the moon if you wanted it. He could protect you, take care of you, love you and give you the standard of living that you needed. He, in his opinion, was the best possible choice. "Why don't you try it on?" he suggested and you looked at him with a beautiful and wide smile. You ran to the dressing table mirror of that room that had witnessed all your passion that night. You left the box on the dresser and looked at yourself smiling and happy in the mirror. Aemond followed you, standing just behind you as you tried to close the catch on that subtle chain. "Do I help you?" Aemond phrased it as a question, but you knew it was a statement. You smiled while he closed the clasp on that chain and looked satisfied at your reflection in that mirror. He kissed the skin of your neck and you laughed sweetly. That was music to his ears and you felt how all the blood in his body was now concentrated elsewhere, much further south. He hugged you and sighed haughtily as he wrapped his arms around you from behind you, pulling you closer to him. “Hmm, you're a gorgeous dragon, (Y/N)” he whispered in your ear and you smiled at your own reflection.

Aemond's gift was a discreet necklace with the heraldry symbol of your father's name, of your name… a three-headed dragon in a silvery steel alloy that was quite subtle. The three heads of the dragon greeted you, declaring that you were one of them, but also each of its eyes were small sapphires as blue as Aemond's prosthesis, but when caught in the sunlight they reflected a purple light exactly like the color of your eyes. You knew that Aemond must have been demanding for that jewel, ordering select sapphire runes as unique as those, however, that made you happy. You were one more, at least for him. “This necklace represents us. In the dark, their eyes have my blue. In the light, they have your purple” he explained to you while you continued happily and in silence, admiring your own reflection in the mirror. Those two perfect and embracing figures. Both naked, without complexes, without ties... just him and you... together at last. “You are a Targaryen, (Y/N). And the Targaryens were born to be together” those last parts he whispered in your ear. His warm breath against the shell of your ear. You saw him close his eye, but the bluish prosthesis was still open, it almost seemed that he never lost sight of you, and that turned you on a lot. "Hmm" he sighed while he rested his head on yours. Still with his eye closed. You felt a warm sensation build up in your lower belly and you turned to kiss him. You not only felt accepted and wanted, but also loved. That necklace was proof of that.

The truth, a truth that Aemond would never confess to you, is that he had changed his gift at the last moment. That necklace was just a way of marking his territory at the birthday party before Cregan, but he would never admit it to you. That moment had turned out better than he had planned and he just closed his eye when he felt how you kissed him again after turning around with a smile. He picked you up and turned you around as you kissed, going back to bed. You lay down and smiled mischievously at him. "Suddenly I know what I want for breakfast," you told him comically, a mix of sensuality and amusement that you didn't think Aemond was used to from the way he looked at you. Lying facing each other, you smiled at him as you lowered your gaze and bit your lower lip in the most sensual way you could. He seemed to understand what you were talking about and he only knew how to put on a serious gesture while his hand was lost in your hair, almost forcing you and guiding you to what he had been waiting for so long.

"So what are you waiting for?" he whispered to you. His strong hand was pushing you down. He had to be in control, he couldn't let go, letting himself go would be accepting weakness, and he was never weak... he lay down looking at the ceiling, while you descended to give him what he had wanted so much. His eye lasted a short time on the ceiling, he quickly turned to look at you when he felt your tongue playing in the cleft of his glans. "My little dragon..." he moaned between his teeth and you felt a pang of pleasure at being named again as before, as he had always called you. He couldn't help but get excited seeing how you had changed, as now you were the woman who made him crazy... that made him horny at times. He saw you astride him, lying between his legs while your tongue ran the length of his member. That reddish and shiny head contrasted strongly with his pale skin and you felt his cock vibrating against your tongue. Aemond couldn't stop looking at you as your purple eyes locked on him. A look that said it all. He grabbed your hair tight. He thought he would cum soon, very soon. He had been wanting to be with you for so long that he knew it wasn't going to last at first. He had planned to cum inside your mouth and you would swallow his dragon seed. His seed was always a gift not a drop of which could be wasted. You sucked his cock between your lips while running one of your hands up and down the shaft of his manhood at the same time. Aemond growled. He didn't think he was going to last much longer and he grabbed your hair tightly, ready to set the pace, but, right at that moment his phone rang. "Fuck, who the hell is that now?" he said in a bad way. His hand on your hair, then he looked at you, unsure whether to continue with you or go to the phone. "Fuck" that was all he said as he grabbed your head desperately and set a fast pace that had nothing to do with the previous game you had set. He was angry at the interruption and you let him take over while you relaxed your neck for him to set the quick, the angry pace he needed. While your mouth felt his cock go in and out quickly and your hair felt the tugs that made your head go up and down, the phone didn't stop ringing. Nervous and urgent, it just overwhelmed your uncle, who hardly knew how to handle the urgency with which it sounded. You sensed Aemond angry and then he growled and breathed hard and desperate. His cock vibrated inside your mouth and you felt his warm seed slide down your throat. Right at that moment, Aemond stopped the controlled movements above your head and dropped you on the bed to kiss you angrily while he got up from. The truth was that you had felt uncomfortable during that moment and your jaw and throat ached from the rapid and deep thrusts he had given you, but, you understood that Aemond was stressed before that phone that did not stop ringing. "Damn," he muttered as he picked up the phone. "There was no other fucking time to call..." he said as the cell phone kept ringing again. Aemond cleared his throat as he picked up the phone. "Mother..." he answered. He went to the huge window of that room to talk to Alicent.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him. Your body adhered to his, both illuminated by the first rays of the sun of that perfect dawn. You would take care of him, you would relieve him, you would reduce his tension and you would always be there for him. It was what you said to yourself while you were listening to him talk, stressed with your grandmother. She was asking where you were, what had happened. You heard her mention that your father was freaking out that no one knew where you were and you saw Aemond's jaw tense as he answered. He said that you had spent the night in a hotel, that the doctors had told you to stay away from everything. He lied, creating a perfect story for his mother in which he came off as a perfect and loving uncle, concerned about the mental health of his little and vulnerable niece. Aemond Targaryen would always be the hero of your story.

You spent a couple of days at home, resting, although you had insisted that you were fine, that you could accompany your uncle to the office, but your grandmother had insisted that you stay there. Thus, you had spent half a week reading in the morning, eating with your grandmother, drawing quietly in the garden and bathing in the pool. It had been a quiet few days, seeing no one but your grandmother in the mornings and Aemond in the afternoons and evenings. He was leaving work early. He would come home and you would hang out together, keeping the logical distances, of course. No one could find out about you two, much less your grandmother, but you lived as a couple. You had dinner together and in those three days, one of them, he had taken you to a pretty good restaurant. Life like this seemed almost perfect. However, you had not seen your father at any time during those days. Until that Thursday afternoon, sitting in the sun lounger that was Aemond's favorite place to sit while you were in the pool, you waited for him to come home from work. You felt a presence behind you and you turned to greet him, but instead of finding Aemond, your father was looking at you completely devastated with terrible circles under his eyes. The truth is that you hadn't seen him since the Sunday of your birthday and, by the way he looked, you could imagine that he had been trying to forget it in his strange way all those days.

“Dad…” you started to say, but you didn't know what else to say. He struggled to sit across from you, with a sad smile and tired eyes. He looked at you only to end up looking at the pool.

“I'm so glad to see you looking so well, (Y/N)” he told you with a dry throat. He ended up trying to swallow, but he couldn't, talking to you had always been difficult for him.

“It was… it was silly” you told him, trying to play down the matter “What happened to me, I mean. It was silly."

"No, it wasn't" he told you, turning to look at you for a moment with tears in his eyes. Of course it hadn't been, but you couldn't accept what had happened. Now you felt ashamed. You had lost your mind for a moment. “I… I am sorry about what happens between us, (Y/N). I'm sorry I've never been there for you. Not having met you, not… not having protected you. If I had done it, we wouldn't be in this situation now…” he confessed to you. His eyes were not capable of looking at you. You would always be the great reflection of his failure with your mother. Always. “I… I really love you and care about you. I care a lot about you…”

"Dad..." you went to say, to hug him. You wanted it too, of course you did. He might be a lousy father, but he was your father, and you knew that he had always tried his best, even if it ended in acts as disastrous as the bandit. “I know you try to do your best.”

"And I know it's not enough," he laughed weakly, looking at you again. "You look like your mother, you're exactly like her," he confessed tiredly. And then, he looked strangely at the Targaryen pendant you hadn't parted with since Aemond had given it to you. It was a symbol of love…it almost embarrassed you to think of it, but it was a symbol of commitment. A commitment between Aemond and you. "That necklace is very pretty..." he told you, staring at him. He had screwed up with her gift. He realized that he had inadvertently excluded you from his family.

"Aemond gave it to me" you said, caressing the necklace sweetly and your father just looked away. Of course, his brother would always understand you better than he did…he felt jealous, he felt it because he thought you should see Aemond as your father figure, instead of seeing him. He had no idea how wrong he was...

“I want things to change between us, (Y/N). I really want to be there for you” he confessed to you, embarrassed to think that it was all his fault. He already knew that he was going to screw up since the day he saw you in your mother's arms about to catch the flight to Starfall…he would always be a disaster. And you didn't know how to respond to his words. You only remained in a painful silence in which neither of you knew what else to say. You both knew that things had to change, for the good for the both of you.

"Oh, look who's back from their mini vacation." Aemond looked up from his reports when he heard Alys' voice in the reception area of his office. Then, he saw you dressed casually, like you always did in your top and shorts, but this time with the torn shoulder bag and the Targaryen symbol on it. Your uncle smiled pleased to see you. "How are you, honey?" Alys asked you sweetly. The whole city must have found out you were in the psych ER after Cregan left. You felt stupid when they asked you like a little girl, but you saw sincerity in the eyes of your uncle's secretary.

"Fine" you replied as you watched your uncle get up from his desk to see you. You turned your attention to Alys and she smiled at you in the nicest way she knew how. "Thanks for asking me, Alys."

"Don't worry. That´s what I´m here for. Besides, I'll tell you a secret” she told you, lowering her tone of voice more and more. You approached to listen to her, “Men come and go. It's a lesson I give you.” Without a doubt, Alys blamed it on the same thing everyone else blamed it on, Cregan was gone and you'd gone mad with love. She smiled at you but her eyes seemed to freeze when she saw the necklace now hanging from your neck. "How beautiful!" she commented, trying to sound nice, but that smelled very bad to her. You laughed sweetly.

"Yes, Aemond gave it to me for my birthday," you confessed to her and she tried to put the ideas in order in her head. You had been with Cregan all that time, it was impossible, unlikely that you would have ended up tangled between Aemond's sheets, but that seemed like a gift more between lovers than between family...

"(Y / N)" Aemond greeted you through the open door of his office, hands in pockets. He looked at the very expensive Rolex that he always wore and looked at you again with a stupid smile on his lips, "How soon you came" he told you in a soft tone, almost suggestive and Alys's alarms went off. What. Was. Going. Between. You. Two?

"It's just that I couldn't keep waiting at home," you told him coquettishly, clutching your shoulder bag like an idiot and Alys cleared her throat while she looked at Aemond with a worried face. Your uncle seemed to come back to reality.

“How about you go down to the cafeteria and have what you want?” Aemond responded quickly, returning to the stoic tone he always seemed to have.

"Yes, of course" you replied with concern. Just when you closed the door to that waiting room. Aemond turned slowly, his unbound hair moving in time to return to his office. He had work to finish. Alys went to the office door and leaned defiantly against the frame. They had never been anything, owed each other nothing, but Alys wasn't going to let Aemond fall the way his uncle did. She had to protect him because with it she protected herself.

"What is going on between you two?" she said as she walked over to Aemond's desk, she leaned against it and glared at him hard. He just answered her with the same cold look that he would have given his worst enemy. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“I know it was you who helped him with the reports that night, Rivers. Let it be the last time you disobey an order I give you” he commanded harshly, without feeling. Alys laughed in disbelief. He had called her Rivers. Rivers. He was beginning to distance himself from her. He had only done that many years ago, when he caught her being unfaithful.

"Well, that doesn't seem to have stopped you from fucking her, does it?" Alys mumbled back at his taunt.

"Are you jealous?" Her boss responded, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Don't make me laugh, Aemond. You are just like your uncle. Exactly the same” Alys could never be jealous. She had only been in love once, many years ago, and she had never been Aemond's. Your uncle had been fun to educate, but nothing more. She was his confidante because they both kept many secrets from each other, but that was the end of their whole relationship. She could never be jealous of you, she was only worried that Aemond would end up walking the same path of doom as her uncle. "Be careful what game you're playing."

“And you be careful what you suggest, Rivers. It is a very ugly accusation” he replied, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't going to get rid of Alys, but her patronizing attitude was making him angry. He was much smarter than his uncle. They would never catch you. Never.

"It's going to end very badly for you Targaryen." And with that sentence, with that statement, Alys left Aemond's office, angrily closing the door behind her. History was repeating itself, much to the secretary's chagrin, and your uncle had no idea how true Alys's words were.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader

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gulmoregirls · 4 months

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Motivated by my own 21st birthday yesteday, I decided to (re)watch the famous episode in S6 in which Rory turns 21.

Looking at it now, I can't help but feel like she was, indeed, so young. I get the entire "rory gilmore downfall" thing and agree that that version of the character was just... off. However, I really feel like they could've made an entire arc about rory losing herself and then finding herself. After all, is what she deserves as one the leads of the show.

Now being her age, I understand better how weird it is to be in your early twenties. Expectations, endless possibilites, the burden of having to actually make the choices for yourself. Rory's in a different environment, questioning the lables that were very prematurely put on her. She's not living the life she had envisioned for herself, turns out she's not good at the one thing she thought she had, all of her friends are doing stuff for themselves - while she, who was always on a pedestal, feels lost.

In a sense, taking Rory from that pedestal was key to her character and to the show. Making her have a identity crisis while entering adulthood and the real world makes absolute sense. It doesn't make her spoiled, or terrible, or mean. It makes her a confused 20yo girl, and speaking as another teenager in my twenties, it does get weird!! I just hate the way everything happened, and how she had little to no insight on it, no meaningful conversations with peers, how under developed it was - to the point that it felt like an individual flaw of rory's character, when it could've been so powerful to a young women audience to have someone relatable get lost but find herself again.

Again, I'm not the show writer, and, as much as I wish Rory had been done better, I can only stick to what is canon while annalizing the episode. So here are my biggest thoughts (as if this text is not long enough)

I feel like there's a reason why they wrote Logan as unaware of Rory's birthday, specially because it plays no role in a fight, or has to do with a lack in their relationship. It's not that Logan forgot, or that he should've known. It's purely that Rory didn't tell him.

In my opinion, it symbolizes what becomes a theme during this part of the show, which is "past rory" vs "current rory" and which one is the "real" one, if it's one of them. Logan not knowing about her birthday equals Emily throwing her a big birthday party with a drink Rory doesn't like but that has her name, or inviting random people she doesn't care about. Equals Logan getting her a Birkin bag, a symbol of power, when she didn't even know the brand existed. The parallel between the dream she used to have with her mother (the trip to vegas, playing 21, buying 21 things) and the reality of their fallout and rory surrounded by exactly what lorelai ran from. Money not being able to buy traditions.

Adding to that, the next episode is the famous one, in which Jess shows up and does more than delivering a passionate speech that, almost twenty years later, would become a tiktok trend. He actually wishes her a late happy birthday. He remembers it. Either intentionally or not, it adds another layer to the amount of parallels rory is facing.

Obviously, Jess knowing something Logan didn't doesn't make him better, nor it changes anything. But in a way, it shows a gap between past and present in a different way (one maybe even more intersting than just comparing "study freak" to "yale dropout", because people change over time), once we're talking about the relationships she's building, and how she wants them to be.

On a side note, I theorize that an explanation could be that Rory and Logan's relationship is very present/future-oriented. "Future" not in the sense of building a future together, a far away future. But "Future" as "the next adventure", "the next challenge", "the next trend". The way his character was introduced already shows that, and it was very important for Rory to let go a little, but I feel like it became easy for her, amidst her twenties-crisis, to live too much like logan, trusting that things would fall into place, relying on priviledges she had never had before, forgetting herself in the process, because actually thinking about the situation would make her spiral.

I guess my point is that talking about Rory's past was not a priority - symbolized about how he doesn't even know her birthday. It worked well for them, as Rory was unconsciously doing it herself, hiding it because remembering meant actually getting in touch with who she used to be, and how things were changing, and questioning everything. Once she was able to taste how living was like for Logan - both because of him and because of her grandparents, that shared similar values and priviledges - it was easy ignoring the past, exactly because it was a big contrast that, maybe, meant that she needed to take a step back and to really think about what version she wanted to be.

(not that it matters, but it almost feels like their talks, ideas and challenges were very logan-coded, once rory was eager to ignore aspects of her life and he was eager to show her the perks and fun of his. on the other hand, her relationship with jess was very rory-coded, because everything in stars hollow brought her memories and stories she wanted to share, whereas jess was the one who wanted to escape himself, always failing to communicate, guard always up, even for small things)

In her party episode, Richard, Emily and Lorelai discuss about Rory, and have different views.

To Emily, they haven't failed her - not until she repeats Lorelai's story, showing up pregnant. Until that, there's still time and efforts. She doesn't care Rory is unhappy, or lost, or confused. She just cares about keeping her under her watch, thinking that, by doing so, she won't become like Lorelai.

To Richard, they have failed her by giving her everything she needed to run away from her responsabilities and her old self. He says something similar to what Jess later tells Rory, about how it isn't her to drop out of Yale and be in the DAR. However, he feels like that can be mended with the right incentive - a new car, a new house, in exchange for the old Rory back.

Lorelai, very wisely, knows that if the "old Rory" is bought, it is actually not her daughter. She knows the problem is not Rory not being in school, but Rory not even *wanting* to go back.

Still, none of them actually say any of that to her face. Having Jess be the one doing it is one of the few nice parts of that season, because it makes sense. He knows her, not an idealized version, but the flawed, real one she showed him. He returns exactly to show her he made something for himself exactly like she believed he could, reminding rory of how she can trust her own judgment, and how she can make something for herself as well. He doesn't hesitate in comparing how different the two versions of her are, even if he might be wrong or sound jealous. Mostly, he points out that it is not normal for rory gilmore to ignore her mom. Everyone from her past could see it, and someone needed to say it. For some reason, Lorelai, Lane and even Paris couldn't, and Jess checked all the boxes.

#gilmore girls #rory gilmore #jess x rory #literati #jess mariano #rory x jess #lorelai gilmore #logan huntzberger

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nothingtherefornow · 4 months

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About Evil teenagers antagonists in Miraculous

I currently wonder how can some fans still want a redemption for somoene like Chloé who willingly hurt people just because that's was her definition of "fun".

Why not accept Chloé as somoene evil ? Just because she's 14 years old ? Just because Gabriel was worst than her doesn't take away the fact that Chloé is a truly bad person who has the potential to become as evil, if not worse than Gabriel while growing up.

Even in real life, adults are not the only ones who are capable of cruelty and crimes. If only adults were capable of monstrosity, I wouldn't have 14-year-olds killing each other with callache nikoffs in the drug trafficking districts of my city. we wouldn't have young people beating up little ones and pushing others to suicide and absolutely not regretting their actions. And we wouldn't have stories to raise eyebrows about kids capable of committing murder and acts of torture without necessarily having been abused in their lives.

To me, anyone who loves to make others suffer for their own sick pleasure (and their victims are people who objectively don't deserve such cruelty) has serious mental issues and can be a danger to others.

Both Chloé and Lila love to make others people suffer or don't care about hurting innocents, and they certainly don't feel any empathy for anyone, or in Chloé's case, no longer feel any empathy (she may have felt sympathy and empathy for Adrien at some point, like during the episode Felix in season 3, but that's definitly no longer the case as soon as Adrien asked her to stop being a biatch). Maybe Lila may feel a form of attachment toward her mothers, yet that doesn't stop her from manipulating them and fooling them in a way that's pretty cruel if you dig deeper in Lila's scale of truancy and imposterization.

I know that technically when a 14 year old kid behaves like Lila and Chloé we could say to ourselves that it is unfair to give them no chance and to condemn them when they are only 14-15 years old and could change for the better if they could be guided on the right path.

But Miraculouse is a show in which the superheroes with the fate of the world in their hands are 14 year old kids. And as such in this fictitious reality, other 14 year olds are perfectly likely to become real cruel and threatening villains i without any scruples, especialy if they are influenced by the wickedness of an adult supervillain.

And I believe that Gabriel's evilness only made Chloé's and Lila's wickedness worse.

He put those two girls in positions of power where they could hurt others and act according to their darkest and Manichean impulses. And Lila and Chloé would only want more taste of that power to crush others. And you know how power easilly corrupt the most greedy hearts.

On several occasions, Gabriel even approved of Lila and Chloe's horrible plans and actions. He has encouraged Lila on numerous occasions to "get rid of" Marinette, thus giving the impression that he supports Lila's jealousy, and during collusion he will have the nerve to say that Chloé's ideas, which consist literally ruining the academic future of your classmates and putting your pregnant teacher in jail for no good reason are good ideas. Having a rich adult in a position to approve of their actions in this way will only have given Lila and Chloe the feeling that their acts of cruelty and malice are justified, and thus reinforced their evil nature.

On several occasions we have seen Chloe and Lila voluntarily let themselves be akumatized, and worse than that, we have seen them plan to be akumatized (Chloe in Penalteam, and Lila in Revelation) and not for understandable reasons like that of a desperate Jalil brainwashed by lies on social media. Because Lila and Chloe have only ever been motivated by their narcicism, their ego, and their desire to get revenge on people they hate for the most pettiest, vain and selfish reasons possible.

Lila and Chloé may be kids, but they are evil teenagers, because they would gladly become supervillain if that means getting what they want. And what they want is anything but noble. For their selfish goals, Lila and Chloé were willing to endanger the city they live in and all its inhabitants. I don't even know if I can still call Lila and Chloé kids or teenagers, with how far they're willing to go and hurt people for the sake of their ambitions.

Although there's still the possibility that Lila may be an adult with a youngfull appearance or a hormonal abnormality making her look like a teenager when she could be an adult. But that would risk making her a pedophile so I don't think the show will go that far ^^ At most they could give her the same as Théo Barbot

But an antagonist adult would be needed then to balance an antagonist teenager supervillain.

Good thing we still have Tomoe Tsurugi then

It's tragic that Chloé and Lila wickedness and evilness could be due to serious mental issues or Chloé's bad upbringing, and the show may have decided that it's more important to protect others from the harm Chloé and Lila can cause rather than to prioritize "helping" them with their issues. Both Marinette and Adrien proposed another path for Chloé to chose, one that could have helped her heal from the emotional and mental wounds her mother's abandonment and neglect. Chloé instead chose Hawkmoth's/Monarch

Ladybug offered Lila her friendship, and Adrien also offered Lila to be there for her as long as she didn't hurt those he loved. Yet both Lila and Chloe voluntarily chose to continue committing bad deeds and hurting others, regardless of the fact that someone reached out to them and offered them another path to get love, acknowledgement and recognition from people. Adrien and Marinette don't have to sacrifice their mental health for people who wish them harm, so I understand very well that it wasn't and won't be their priority to help Chloé and Lila find potential redemption. And especially when Lila and Chloe seem determined to refuse to change and continue to cling to their wickedness.

It should be the adults responsabilities to deal with Chloé and Lila issues, and unfortunatelly the adults in Miraculous are pretty lousy and incompetents. It's very tragic when we don't know that one kid is a psychopath, and if another has always gotten away with his narcissistic behavior disorder and nothing had ever been done to help them deal with that issue, that only leaves the opportunity for the seed of evil in these kids to germinate and flourish, and then reach the level of nastiness that is more often found in adults.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous thoughs #chloé bourgeois #lila rossi #gabriel agreste #tomoe tsurugi #This show seems to like evil teenagers antagonists in Miraculous #and the fact that the influence of an evil adult antagonist only facilitates their premature fall towards the path of evil #We had Garbage Agreste giving Chloé and Lila opportunities to be villains and supervillains who would antagonize and oppose the heroes #then in season 6 we may have Tomoe Tsurugi becoming one of chrysalis's ally #That sure would be better than the whole miraculous team having a lot of trouble against just one villain teenager

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gloryofroses19 · 2 years

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The Name Game

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

[y/n] liked to think she wasn’t the type to be easily swayed by a handsome man. Even if the handsome man was a tall sunkissed brunette outfitted in Navy service khakis and looking at her like she made the sunrise. A mustached man, who let a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach, a feat not known to her since her teenage years. How she ended up on the date with him was beyond her. But not all the wonders of the world can be answered so [y/n] pushed that question aside and instead asked another.

“So, what’s your real name Rooster Bradshaw?”

Rooster grinned as he leaned across the table towards [y/n]. “Who says Rooster isn’t my real name?”

And his grin grew as [y/n] didn’t back down and instead [y/n] met him halfway across the table with her own smile. “Because you’ve already told me you’re a pilot and I’ve learned from living here that you guys have nicknames.”

“The technical term is callsign.” Lieutenant Bradshaw enjoyed the way the setting sun’s ray crossed across her face giving her a warm glow but her accompanying laughter made him realize he liked that much more.

“It’s Bradley.” Sipping his beer, Bradley hoped to quell the flush, warming his body as he was enamored by the woman before him.

“Nice to meet you Bradley…” As [y/n] paused, Bradley watched with anticipation as mischief filled her smile, “Wait, so you're telling me that your parents named you Bradley Bradshaw?”

Bradley did nothing but nod as her [color] eyes began to twinkle with that he’d call glee. “I now understand why you use your callsign, Brad-Brad.”

Letting out an exaggerated gasp, Rooster placed a hand over his heart and feigned a wounded tone. “Hey, it’s a family name!”

“Yeah, it sure is, considering it’s your last name!” [y/n] continued to laugh as she became completely endeared by the pilot. She truly appreciated how, despite looking like an adonis and having a jet-setting career, he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously. The fact that he wasn’t above joking around and can keep up with her banter while maintaining his sincerity had [y/n] deciding that she would kiss him tonight if he made a move.

“Ok, I admit I walked right into that.” Rooster put his hands up in mock defense, “My dad was a bit of a jokester and my mom liked to be a troublemaker too.”

“They sound like a couple of silly gooses to me.”

As the comment left her rosy lips, the familiar warmth spread through Rooster again. He wasn’t oblivious to his good looks and how coupled with the Navy uniform, women looked at him. Even as a teenager, before he fully broadened out and got his six pack, he understood that he was handsome. Growing up, Rooster overheard people ask his mom why she didn’t date again and each time she said, “Goose Bradshaw was the only man for me, nobody else would compare”. When Rooster was old enough to understand, he had his own question. To his question of “how did you know?”, Carole Bradshaw looked at her son and said “you’ll just know”. Rooster found her answer wholly unhelpful and esoteric so he turned to his dad. Rooster often found himself softly saying “talk to me dad” when he needed guidance and support. But before he could even ask the question, [y/n] innocuous comment answered it for him because he finally knew.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bradley raised an eyebrow in question. “Is that the technical term?”

“Yes Bradley, it is.” [y/n] confirmed taking a sip of her beer as she tried to maintain her composure under his appreciative stare.

“Oh, we’re calling me Bradley now.” Rooster teased as he leaned back in his seat. His teasing smirk grew into a genuine smile as [y/n] leaned in as if to ask him where he was going.

“Well I’m not calling you Rooster now that I know you’re alter ego Brad-Brad but maybe next time.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?” Rooster couldn’t stop the cocky tone that overtook his voice as he leaned back in. A beautiful girl expressing her interest in him wasn’t anything new, however, a beautiful girl who felt like sunshine, laughter and the possibility of a future was and he would be damned if he missed his chance.

Upon realizing what she had said, [y/n] was left with an open mouth that she quickly closed as embarrassment ran through her body. Yes, he seemed clearly interested and not just in bedding her, but he did have a dangerous and peripatetic career. One that left him on naval ships and speeding aircrafts so maybe it was presumptuous to assume he’d want to see her again.

As if sensing her apprehension, Bradley Bradshaw bridged the gap and placed his palm over her hand while smiling at her with hope. “Cause I’d love a next time.”

Linking her fingers with his, [y/n] let the tension leave her body as she met his smile with one of her own. “Then it’s been decided.”

“I’m glad.” Giving her a final glance with his chocolate eyes, Rooster turned his gaze out the window and conspired a way for the night to not end.

Unbeknownst to Rooster, [y/n] shared the same feeling and was thrilled by his next question. “How about we take a walk on the beach [y/n] [y/n]?”

Laughing at his repetition, [y/n] squeezed his hand. “I’d love to but who says I won't push you into the ocean because of that unimaginative nickname Brad-Brad?”

Chuckling, Bradley kept their hands linked as led her out of the bar and into the warm night. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take ma’am.”

A/N: I can’t thank everyone enough for all the likes, comments and reblogs from my previous work, it is truly shocking. And as always, any feedback is welcomed!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader

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kxyera · 4 months

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What the Ghost ghouls were in their mortal lives (Headcanons!)

Just headcanons that ive thought of <3

Aurora

I feel like she would've been an owner of a super aesthetic store, like the most ultimate place to get cute clothes that matched everyone's aesthetic, whatever it may be.

Cirrus

She gives off strong army vibes — She was an army cadet as a teenager (UK PEOPLE KNOW) at the very least. She was the sweetest cadet in the squad, but could definitely pin you down and beat your ass if needed. She doesn't take shit from no one (ahem- swiss.)

Cumulus

I feel like she would be an early years/kindergarten teacher, always in the most bright colours and taught the kids through singing and music. She's good with children and finds them adorable, even if it means she drinks coffee more than any other substance and marks worksheets with stickers.

Sunshine

I am telling you, this girl is a history BUFF, she worked in a museum — simply as an employee, but found happiness and love in every single day. She definitely lived her mortal life to the fullest.

Swiss

He's done military service, like Cirrus, but he really found passion in singing. He was definitely the soldier bringing up everyone's spirits in hard times, while being the fastest and most agile.

He and Cirrus definitely have competitions and races in the Ministry/On tour just to have fun and keep fit. A real brother/sister relationship where they challenge literally everything.

Who can drink water the fastest, who can do the most press-ups, who can do the drills better? It’s always a competition between the two.

Sodo

He was actually always a musician. He always was a lead guitarist, and he can't let go of that in his immortal ghoul life either. He enjoys the freedom of it, the thrill he gets on stage, the adrenaline of a show.

Mountain

He owned a small bookstore in his hometown, a little cosy one where anyone could come along and read/buy books. He knew everyone that came in, chatted with them about life. He just was a calm boy with a lot of close friends, in all honesty. He enjoyed talking about books, the pure fact it could bring out long conversations about possible endings was his favourite thing in the world

Rain

He was a tattoo artist (totally not based off of @rainyhoursinhell, im totally not obsessed with 'there is a star in the sky', not at all! teehee)

He was definitely also the teenager that gave shitty stick and pokes in the school bathroom, his motto was "Once its on your body, its your problem" so he wouldn't get the blame if it got infected

Phantom

He was a scare actor! He loved going around the theme parks, just being a little silly and getting reactions out of people. He also loved getting into costume — he said it was like halloween every day (He loves halloween)

Aether

He was a journalist for music -- A bit like Sodo, he couldnt give up the thrill of music, just in a separate way. He loves interviews specifically, writing up and meeting different artists and bands

He met Sodo's band once, but they've never realised since being in the Ministry for whatever reason. Maybe one day they'll realise they met before.

#swiss ghoul #nameless ghoul #the band ghost #sodo ghoul #nameless ghouls #aurora ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #aether ghoul #kxyera’s headcanons

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neuroprincess · 11 months

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August - Larissa Weems/Female Reader - Part Two

Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Summary: After knowing about August's existence, Larissa tries to get closer to the teenager and making it work can be difficult when both are socially awkward.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: OC (original character)

Word count: +2700

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (soon)

Unrevised

The teenager takes a bite of apple as she stares at the courtyard distractedly, the social groups are dispersed, gathered together talking about random things, mostly about Rave'N Ball which soon became the main topic. Everyone seems excited describing their party clothes bought especially for the day and who they would bring, she knows she should be excited about the same things or at least pretend so she could socialize with them, but she isn't and can't, the only promising thing about the ball is the food and dancing. She loves to dance, since childhood it seems to be the best way to express herself, more than words anyway. At the age of four she started ballet classes and continued performing until 13 when she had a growth spurt, being too tall and with an inadequate bone structure to continue being a dancer, August used her abilities as much as she could to continue dancing and in the end had to let go when mom found out, disapproving. Y/N understood the motivations, it was the girl's first individual interest and something she had devoted herself to for years, this didn't negate the fact that using shapeshifting is a type of cheating and this consumed a lot of her daily energy to continue with the farce. Besides, where they were living was not very kind to any outcast and unsafe for someone like the teenager, in the end they had to resort to the most radical alternative, sending her to Nevermore. Learning things that she, as a mom and normie, could never teach.

August takes one last bite before discarding the rest of the fruit in the trashcan next to the bench she is sitting on, as turning around she notices the presence of the principal almost next to her, standing looking at some vague point pretending to be analyzing the students, except for her as if barely acknowledging her presence. The girl waves a hand in greeting to get her attention and succeeds, they exchange a quick smile and nod, looking back to the courtyard. It's awkward, none of them like this atmosphere and at the same time they don't make the first move towards a real conversation.

"I... I heard that you haven't been using your abilities for two days now." the blonde begins running over the first few words before continuing "How do you feel about that?"

"It's boring, I confess my life seemed easier. And some people just won't stop staring at me."

"Well, you're pretty and tall, you draw attention from boys and girls." Larissa tries to hit back with positive points and winks to her "Anyone interesting?"

She notices how the girl unconsciously stares at a specific group and looks away blushing, redness taking over cheeks and ears. August just whispers "No." and stares at her confused, she thinks that somehow it's not normal for the principal to ask questions like that. But this is a new world which she is still learning the rules.

"Right... have you already been introduced to your classmates?"

"Not exactly, that blonde werewolf talked to me the first day and told me who was who, after that we never talked again." the teenager shrugs shoulders about the fact, she had met a few students who either seemed intimidated or didn't even bother to introduce themselves properly "And that's okay, I'm trying things on my own."

"I understand." neither of them knows what to say anymore, remaining in a silence for minutes that isn't uncomfortable despite the growing anxiety in the pit of their stomachs. She knows August is talking about Enid and it's her group that she has unintentionally stared at. The girl stands up slowly when she notices some students are already gathering for class "Your uniform looks very... short."

Larissa notices that when the teenager stands, they are 6 inches apart, the uniform set with the skirt, which should be just past her knees, looks too small for her size, like it shrunk in the dryer or something. The sweater is tucked tighter against the body instead of being comfortably loose around her, the shoes look slightly uncomfortable, and the skirt that should be below the knee reaches her knees.

"Oh, that! I guess I spent so much time changing my form that I didn't even realize I had another growth spurt, I just forgot to warn Mama. I could take care of it with my own hands, but shapeshifting is out of our deal." the girl straightened the clothes on her body trying to make them conform to the uniform as best as she could, feeling embarrassed by the situation "I think I can handle 5 days until I can use my abilities again." she whispers the last part for only the two to hear.

"Why don't you tell your mother? I'm sure soon you will stop growing and be able to wear only a size of clothes." "Because that's how it happened to me" the blonde mentally adds, in her school days she had to change the size of her clothes and shoes three times. Growing pains as a teenager, her mother always told her on the way to the mall to buy more clothes. Victoria Weems is as tall as her daughter and apparently the girl inherited that from them, even if Y/N's genes allow her to be a little shorter than the two older Weems "I'm sure she'll buy."

"I'm sure too and that's exactly the point." she says simply, her tone making it clear that she doesn't want to continue the topic, then puts the backpack on shoulders "I have to go, botany class now."

"Right! August, think carefully about the ball, it's not mandatory, but it's a great experience and you have a week to prepare." the principal blinks as the girl walks past her, in response she just gets a shy smile.

Larissa smiles back and as soon as the teenager disappears from her vision she turns to the group of students where Enid is, Wednesday with her, Xavier a short distance away from them, Bianca, Divina and Yoko are nearby talking to the duo, the new student doesn't seem interested keeping the same expression as always, which sends a shiver down her spine when directed at her as Addams realizes the tall woman is staring. The blonde immediately turns to go back to her office, pretending this moment didn't happen, even being a teenager she gives her some chills, not that she is scary but yes her actions, she doesn't know what to expect from her.

On the way through the halls Lara August doesn't leave her mind. First, as principal for many years and past hundreds of students, she didn't believe August would follow through on the deal so easily, the next day the fountain was completely clean and more than before, once again Larissa found herself looking for her, this time knowing who to look for and not found her. What made her upset was the possibility that the girl had gone back to using the abilities to hide from her, a possibility soon denied by Thornhill who had the girl as a helper most part of the day and claimed she saw her go straight to the dormitory. Second, she learned more about her supposed daughter, August sleeps in Ophelia Hall sharing a room with a psychic outcast, the academic curriculum is focused on history and literature, she tried fencing and left when Bianca beat her in 10 seconds, after being rejected by the yearbook she is still looking for an extracurricular activity. And last and not least, that the teenager loves hot chocolate, or should at least like it a lot, because Larissa has seen her drink many cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream this morning for breakfast.

And something struck her as she analyzed the short conversation they had at the break, the group that Lara stared at was precisely Enid's... with Wednesday. It couldn't be possible, she wished there wasn't the slightest chance that the blonde was liking the other girl. Not only would it be ironic considering her own past with Morticia, it would also be Y/N's ruin and maybe August's, because as far as anyone can tell the two are complete opposites. Perhaps, with some hope, her possible love interest could be any of the other girls or even Xavier.

"I wonder if this is how parents feel or act when their children are having a crush on someone."

The day is already over for the Nevermore students, most of them have finished dinner, going to their respective dormitories or gathering in common rooms to study for exams the next day. August doesn't feel the need to spend her evening like this after having dedicated all her free hours to it, she sees how desperate everyone is about some difficult subjects and wonders if she should approach them for help, giving up the idea when they find the answer by themselves or with the help of Bianca, who majestically walks around the tables helping their classmates with small things as if she has all the content memorized in her brilliant mind and making a point of showing how intelligent she is. The shapeshifter tries to be discreet as she stares at their interactions, knowing she is failing in this as her eyes can't leave her until the other notices, Bianca frowns as their gazes meet. August turns face quickly and places her hands on cheeks knowing she must be blushing, this is how it works, when in her normal form the pale skin gives way with annoying ease. It's not like she knows how to hide reactions and emotions either, another part of her socially maladjusted personality.

"Hey, white head!" the siren calls out approaching her, laughing when she notices how the girl stiffens at the desk, dropping the book she was reading and slowly turns to look, confusion in her eyes wondering if it was she who was called "Yes, you. Are you having a hard time too?"

"Yeah, no, I mean no. I've been studying all day." she stutters, trying to look anywhere but Barclay's intimidating eyes.

"I see. So do you have a problem with me?" the question is direct and sincere, too direct for the blonde's conversational standards.

"No, never, I'm... I'm sorry." the two stare at each other for a few seconds that seem tense and that atmosphere is cut off by the queen bee's loud laugh, August not sure how to feel about this reaction, even more confused.

"You were staring at me."

"I didn't even realize. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." she swallows dryly and finally gets up the courage to look her in the eyes, feeling legs getting weak and maybe pressure dropping along with it, if she wasn't sitting up she would probably fall to knees on the floor.

"It's all right. Well, if that's it..." Bianca says casually ready to go to another table to offer help.

"Bianca! Actually..." the shapeshifter takes a deep breath trying to gather courage to continue "I need help, not with the exams. I'm terrible at fencing, you know that, you're the one who made me kiss the ground a month ago." the two laugh for different reasons remembering of her first fencing lesson "Could you give me some lessons or some help? Please."

"Sure! Maybe after the ball, you have the potential for a good opponent, Lara."

"Thank you..."

As soon as the siren gives back August gets up gathering her belongings and tries to leave the common room as discreetly as possible, a difficult task when she messes with the strap of the backpack attached to the chair and quick steps that make the shoes resonate on the floor. "She knows my name! She knows my fucking name!" is the only thing the blonde can think of while running to her dorm, avoiding curious and even judging glances at the big smile on her lips. When she enters the bedroom she seems to be walking on clouds and suddenly feels silly for acting this way just because Bianca Barclay knows her name, maybe it's no big deal, she is a brilliant student with a great memory, or maybe it's too much because after all she is the queen bee while August is another teen without any highlight and who would never draw her attention. August sighs and walks to her side of the room throwing the backpack on the bed, that's when she notices a perfectly wrapped red package on top of the blankets, she stares at it confused, for a moment believes that maybe it's a gift for her roommate and they got the sides confused, but there is a note with her full name written in cursive handwriting.

The package is opened with care, the ribbons undo the lace to reveal a complete uniform set, from blazer to shoes, what makes her happiest is the skirt in the right size looking perfectly cut for her slim and tall body. She looks at herself in the mirror with the skirt clinging to the body, loving how it looks, she would no longer have to adjust every time she sits down or stands up and that is a great relief. All the items are folded up again to be stored and only then August notices something at the bottom of the package, she pulls out a small thick black book with gold details, Good Omens by Neil Gaiman. Next to it a note attached written "It's one of my favorite books, maybe you'll like it too. Good read, August." and immediately she knows who gave her the package. Principal Weems. The only person in the academy who knows how she likes to be called and uses the name. No matter how stubborn and proud she is felt good to earn it from her, almost hugged for someone other than her mom caring about her.

Another morning begins with Larissa comfortably working on her laptop, it's one of the rare occasions when it's calm, especially with the recent events in Jericho and Nevermore, of course, over the question of a certain student's motherhood. Momentarily the tension was lifted from her shoulders and she felt good, relaxing against the chair. Eyes closed thinking of good times, both past and present. She remembers clearly the day she met Y/N, ten years younger, cheerful and spirited, always friendly when she served her a cup of tea. Their first kiss in front of Larissa's apartment, her former home when only a teacher. They barely had a first date before falling into each other's arms, drunk on love... and wine. She sighs remembering those nights on weekends when they bought bottles to accompany home-cooked dinners and it always ended in the same thing. She can remember the young woman's face in vivid details, it's surreal.

And she comes to the realization that there is one more thing to take care of, to finally talk to Y/N, two days earlier all the courage she had gathered to make that call crumbled as soon she heard her voice on the other side of the phone. She hung up without saying anything, hoping that the other woman would think it was a wrong call or just someone making a prank. When there was no return call she knew she was safe and initiated a plan, not very complex, but still important and difficult to approach the teenager. If was any other child she knows it would be easier, but every time she is around August can't stop thinking that this girl is her daughter, even if there isn't a DNA test to prove it yet, imagining how she must have been as a kid, about who she is, what she likes or dislikes, the guilt eating her up inside every second she spends next to her.

"August, what..." she whispers startled when the girl opens the office doors unceremoniously, she is red and disheveled hair evidencing that she ran all the way there "I see you are wearing the..."

"I thought we had an deal, Principal Weems!" she almost shouts interrupting the older woman, to the surprise of both of them "I tried to behave, to fulfill our deal, I'm not even using my abilities. And you betrayed me! I feel dumb for trusting an adult."

"What are you talking about, Lara August?" Larissa doesn't know if she is confused or angry at the teenager's attitude, her tone of voice expresses that.

"You weren't supposed to call my mom and you called her."

"I didn't..."

"She's here!"

"Shit!"

"Yeah, shit!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady!"

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