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sapphicvalentines · 3 days

Text

☆Baby, the stars shine bright☆

pt1

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics

fluff,wlw

Frilly pink dresses,strawberry cakes,sunny days,classical music and tea times made you the happiest being alive but again,your happiness only relied on external things because deep inside you felt rotten. But at least it was better than feeling totally empty right?

Everytime you felt horrible about yourself you'd think of your parents.

Your dad was rejected by his gang because he could never hold a gun properly (he would cry in vain after shooting someone) and your mother heartlessly cheated on your dad with her gynecologist right after you were born.

Your mom had crossed boundaries and you assumed it was hereditary when you started to gaslight your dad for money so you could build your dream closet.

"My best friend is in the terminal stage of this very rare, deadly disease."

You looked away, pretending to drop tears, not just because of the act but also because guilt was slowly enveloping you. You continued with your fake emotional tone, "She's so young, but she looks so tired and sick. Fortunately, the doctors found a cure."

This statement made your father stop crying and cover his mouth in surprise. He believed every single word coming out of your mouth.

"And they have to perform a surgery that will cost-" It was like a reflex; your dad burst into tears again before handing you 2000 bucks. It wasn't to save your imaginary friend from the disease but to fuel your will to live. You covered your smile with your hand before taking the money and thanking your dad, already imagining the kind of dress you would buy.

The next day, you woke up before your alarm went off, not wasting a second to go to your favorite place.

You walked all the way from home, which was in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, to the train station.

You wished you lived in Tokyo because then you wouldn't have to add the cost of the train ticket to your expenses, allowing you to spend all your money on dresses. But going there once every month prevented you from emptying your wallet every day, so it wasn't all bad.

Relief hit you when you arrived at the train station early. You took a seat, but then you heard people screaming and arguing from afar.

It was your dad doing his 'new' job after leaving his gang. You thought you were good at gaslighting him, but he was certainly better. He was selling fake luxury brand clothes to a group of oblivious people, arguing with him to get a 90% discount. No matter how stubborn you are, you don't think you could ever fool an entire group of people. It made you wonder how your dad believed all of your made-up stories in the first place.

Little did you know, the dress you bought that day would be the last one you bought with your father's money. Karma got both you and your father, almost bankrupting him. The old gang your father was in denounced his actions, leaving him with no job and no money to fund your wardrobe.

When you looked at the fake luxury clothes in your hands, you wondered how people even fell for this. It was just basic white t-shirts with a brand name; not even your alter ego could like this.

But to your biggest surprise, the scam your father had pulled off hadn't reached everyone's ears. Luckily, you soon received a letter that looked like it was written by an 8-year-old:

"Hi, I saw your big tracksuits when I was walking by the city, but there were too many people buying everything. I was wondering if you still have some left for me. Wait for me at your house at 8 am."

And so you did. You stood at your front door, waiting for the child to arrive. You convinced your father to keep his fake clothes for whatever reason, so you could continue what he was doing in secret.

All you had to do was sell fake luxury clothes to afford your dream ones. With no gang to ever snitch on you, you could set your own prices and stop depending on your dad's money.

You spotted a motocycle and squinted your eyes when the person riding drove towards your home

Was it one of the childs parents ?

The person drove closer blowing some dust before parking their motocycle next to your home, they didnt even wear a helmet for security

You realised she was a girl when the dust disappeared but she didnt look like a mother at all

You didnt realise you were staring that long until the auburn girl came up to you and told you to stop

"hey, I told you im looking for the seller where is he ?" her deep commanding voice made you remind the letter, it wasnt an actual child's writing,she was just writing like a child !

"he's not here, but I'm taking his role," the auburn girl said, looking you up and down inspecting your elegant lolita dress.She was blocking the sun, so you couldn't clearly see her facial features.

"are you messing with me?" You could see her features better when her face got closer to yours, attempting to intimidate you. She didn't believe in you, even though she had no idea those clothes were fake. She turned her face away to spit on the ground, and you noticed golden writing on her large jacket's sleeve.

This girl was definitely part of a gang, you thought.

"stop spitting," you retorted in disagreement with her behavior. It was obvious she was doing all this to let people know she's not playing around, but still...

She raised an eyebrow at you, a bit surprised. But before she could do or say anything, you carelessly opened the front door of your home, which was about to turn into a place of business.

#ellie williams #ellie fluff #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #mini series

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shannonsketches · 4 months

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They’re not a super popular ship in terms of romance, but they’re 100% a thing and always side by side in fan works more often than Ganondorf with Bowser, so they’re a duo for sure (that and OoT came out around the same time as FFVII I think so more shared history there)

Ah, see I think I've seen more Ganondorf and Bowser associations because of Brawl's plot giving them some shared screen time (and of course both being big Nintendo properties, and growing up with the jokes about Nintendo having one (1) color palette for BBEGs). Not in a ship sense, just their general "I know that guy from work" fan stuff.

But I don't really shop in Final Fantasy or the latest SSB sectors often, so I haven't seen them before!

#then again in FF7 I really only cared about Cid and also Barret kljkdas not that ff isn't great!! I have HUGE respect for that franchise #and what it did for storytelling and exploring and gaming in general. MASSIVE respect for the FF series #VII was just something that my friends were super into and I kind of hung out and liked the grumpy little team dads #you know how when you're a teenager and everyone around you is So Pumped about Thing and you just don't have it in you? that was me lol #My KH friends were foaming at the mouth over Cloud and Seph and Sora and Riku and fam I tried to care I really did I tried so hard #but I couldn't!! It's not for me. The closest I got to caring about seph was loz in advent children he is all tiddy and zero brain 10/10 #I didn't end up playing FF7 until like 2006 and then again in 2017 and I remember it was good!#But while I could tell you all about Cid I really only vaguely remember the main story asdasklj megacorp bioengineering and ? aliens ??#tldr I wave at FF through the window from across the street laksda I enjoyed 7 and I'll play the remake but it's really not my scene #Same with SSB. I appreciate them both I have fun playing them but it's generally not something I think about when I'm not physically playin #square has some of the most innovative storytelling in the industry don't get me wrong I just rarely crave the flavor they sell ykwim??

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astrxealis · 2 years

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it has been a while since i have advertised any of my favorite games and so hello ... !! i implore you to play final fantasy xiv (fourteen) it is my favorite game and it is so good for so many reasons i love it so much (unlimited free trial btw)

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i could go on forever about this game and idk if that's even an exaggeration at this point bcs i've talked for hours about it #tbh i think any kind of gamer could play it (though ofc there's people who won't like it and that's fine bcs we're all different!)#but yeah it IS an mmorpg but there are really a lot of people who have this as their first mmorpg or the ONLY mmo they like #the story is incredibly good and ofc that too is. up to You but in general i do believe and a lot of others do as well that yeah #idk man :') this game has brought me an extreme amount of joy and is honestly . man. i owe so much to it #and i'm really not afraid to say that! either out of embarrassment or shame or whatever bcs i am affirmed by the many others who feel the #same that i'm not alone in feeling this way >_< idk. i think those around me and esp my loved ones and friends #deserve the experience the same joy ffxiv has given me ... even if not to the same extent ofc WHEEZE ffxiv just personally means #so much to me it consumes my mind and i love it so very much ehbgsbjhg BUT YEAH. yeah #i've felt a bit guilty or embarrassed to like ... express how much things mean to me bcs hmmhmmhm maybe i'm Too Much #but i think xiv has really helped me affirm myself and the fact that yeah! i'm just really passionate and enthusiastic about what i love #and uh. ehbghabgbhb i still don't share my thoughts except for to myself and to my twin and online just a bit but #man idk what i'm talking anymore about but i'm really grateful to ffxiv and i'm glad a lot of others are too ... ><#which is interesting bcs a lot of the playerbase is older than me :O hells yoshi-p is around the age of my dad and a streamer i watch is too #GBSHJBG ... and i have played with people much older than me as well! but it's. strangely nice?#i don't necessarily have to be wary about my safety bcs in general you wouldn't find that with the playerbase unless you do #specific things/go to specific places :O a lot are just people looking to have fun and/or relax after a long day. which is nice #hmm i'm just rambling a lot now again but yeah ... i think its really beautiful how we each have something that we love a lot #and for me one of those stuff is def ffxiv. and i . think it's understandable/valid for me to wish for those i care for to experience what #i have too :O hmm w all this ngl i see that i still need to better accept my feelings and all GHSBHG i'll try my best ><#okay rambles over GAH I SHOULD EAT DINNER. maybe finish 1 hw as well b4 the day ends ehe #tbh most of my rambles ^^ are for ffxiv w the RPG part bcs tbh it is true when people say it is like an rpg + mmo aspects lol #but i really appreciate the mmo aspect >< it's strangely helped me w my social anxiety rather than worsen it!#it's helped me make new friends and great experiences and considering w/o the mmo aspect i'd probably be still #drowning in my misery from back then :O if it were not for ffxiv i sincerely doubt i would have talked again to my irl best friends so <3 #okay i will stop rambling now. tbh i don't think ... hm ... nvm. but anyway! no pressure ofc but yes i suggest u play ffxiv teehee #but if you really can't due to Reasons that is ofc fine as well! i don't want to seem like i'm forcin people wah ...#it is just a thing for ffxiv players to like advertising for ffxiv and i so happen to really like doing that lol ehbsjgh ><#uh i forgot what else i wanted to say but my throat is gabgjebgjhs so bye bye

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hs-is-loml · 7 months

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Married to Who. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Famous!Wolff!Reader

Summary: y/n and her husband have been so private that fans would've never thought she was married to an F1 driver of all people or when fans are starting to make connections and figure out who y/n's husband is

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Alycia Debnam-Carey

Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads + some comments accusations/insinuations of cheating but that's because they don't know charles and reader are married...

a/n: this took longer than i expected but hope you all enjoy!

all translations of french/spanish come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 1,621,936 others

yourusername all of these pictures were from before summer break, and you can tell why they need a mid-season break from each other...

tagged carlossainz55, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and charles_leclerc

view all 146,571 comments

carlossainz55 great picture of charles and i, chica (girl)

→ yourusername yeah sure, great...

→ y/nstan i love her

protectthewags y/n and her husband always takes the best soft launch pictures

→ thef1wags soft launch? they've been doing this for the past 3 years 😭 they need to hard launch.

→ y/nforlifeee her husband is the strongest soldier out there when she's around all these hot men

lewishamilton roscoe and i didn't make the cut this time...

→ yourusername my past two posts have been literally about you and dad at the last race😀

→ roscoelovescoco we's can'ts beelieve you's

→ mercedes8time not lewis using roscoe's account to come after y/n for not including him in the post

danielricciardo didn't know max was into that kind of stuff

→ maxverstappen1 you enjoyed it, don't lie

→ yourusername maxie, sweetie, look at his face. the man was in pain

→ liked by danielricciardo and 309 others

charles_leclerc mon ange... what is this (my angel)

→ yourusername it's an appreciation post, cha

→ carlosconfusion the nicknames>>

→ f1circuittrack how is her husband okay? more importantly is y/n doing okay? because i would leave my partner too if charles leclerc ever called me, mon ange

yourusername has posted a story

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted a story

instagram

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by landonorris, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,791,938 others

charles_leclerc she's real, guys😅 well, i hope she's real or i've been with casper for the last 5 years...

view all 201,963 comments

arthurleclerc maman said she doesn't know how your wife is real either or more so how you managed to convince her to marry your ass

→ charles_leclerc maman did not say that.

→ arthurleclerc you're right, she said she doesn't know how such an amazing girl got with a buffoon.

→ ferraritearss WIFE???

→ partytotheafterparty HIS WIFE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WIFE?

→ paddoook no way this man has not only a girl but is MARRIED to her😀

worldchampionsisaid man is fighting for break on and off track after the imaginary girlfriend rumors on twitter💀

→ thatonebakucorner he was quick to correct them too

→ f1propstand he's over people thinking he's that delulu after the resigning of his Ferrari contract...

carlossainz55 i will never understand how she deals with you 24/7 or your cooking. oh, wait, she cooks when you guys are home

→ liked by arthurleclerc and 410 others

danielricciardo nope. she's totally a ghost.

→ f1memes not daniel gaslighting him😭

lilymhe aww! tell her i miss her and love the nails!!

→ 16crying55laughing lily, tell us what you know

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, susie_wolff, and 1,361,590 others

yourusername perfect timing for our summer break photo dump

tagged charles_leclerc

view all 201,319 comments

charles_leclerc mon amour, je t'aimais alors, je t'aime maintenant et je t'aimerai pour toujours ❤️(my love, I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you forever)

→ yourusername i have loved you since the first time our eyes met

y/nforlifeee i've never seen two people that compliment each other so well

→ y/nsidelove their kids are going to be so beautiful

susie_wolff safe travels, sweethearts!

→ yourusername see you, dad, and jack soon🤍

landonorris honestly, i don't know how people didn't figure it out sooner

→ maxverstappen1 yeah, these two are like rabbits

→ carlossainz55 i share a hotel room wall with them half the season. i'm forever scared

danielricciardo no, you're definitely casper the ghost

→ yourusername i will block you💀

→ danielricciardo i wonder why that reply was invisible?

leclerc_pascale tout mon amour pour vous deux❤️ (all my love for you both)

→ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 651 others

scuderiaferrari our favourite girl with whoever that guy is!

mercedesamgf1 mini boss with lightning mcqueen🙈

→ charles_leclerc we're not starting this again.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc social media au #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc headcanon #fanfic #fluff #social media au

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frmisnow · 1 month

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✧˖ ?!— ALWAYS WITH YOU ౨ৎ . - (NSFW.)

— ‧₊˚ — 𝜗𝜚 : " i want to cum in you every way possible ?? "

summary. your husband spontaneously realizing he wants to have kids with you, was most def. not on your bingo cards!

notes. teeheehee, i need husband! jk injected into my veins!! no but fr might just do a few drabbles of dad kook cause he rly is daddy if you think bout it (+ this is for my dearest pookie, you know who you are!!)

warnings/includes. (017 / breeding), talking about having kids (duh), tit play, overstimulation perhaps??, after care :), he's just so smitten rly

he wanted to get you pregnant.

maybe that sounded to forward and it probably was considering you despised kids- okay, perhaps didn't despise but not necessarerly a fan either. but god did his heart tight in his chest when he saw you with kids, the way your voice tone instantly shifted to something more sweeted, the way you fixed their hair, smiling innocently not knowing all the fucked up fantasies in the head of your husband.

as he observed you, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of mother you would be. Would you soften, your edges rounding into tenderness, or would you retain that fierce independence that he had fallen in love with?

and the more he thought about the further did his mind wander: you both the bringing the kids to school, a little family on the dinner table, the bedtime stories you'd both tell to bring the kids to sleep, the first steps, heck- the first words.

regardless he knows you'd be a good mother, a great one at that (and a hot one but we move)

admits all the cute fantasies there was all the fucked up stuff leashed under it, the thought of seeing you belly-full was strangely endearing to him that he could take care of you even better then he already did, that you'd just carry something of his, a teny tiny mini mix of him and you.

"god, i can't believe she's making me look over her son, he's a cutie but a menace nonetheless," you shrugged after setting your sisters son up with some other kids, "earth to jungkook" you waved dramatically in front of his face as he seemed still rather zoned out. "i want to have a child with you," he blurted out instantly.

to say that your jaw was on the floor was an understatement, you never thought that jungkook out of all people would want kids so early on, you'd always seen him as a free spirit, doing whatever- whenever but a child meant commitment for a lifetime.

you moved closer to him, removing one hair strand that was losely hanging behind his hair, his gaze unfocused, eyes never settling as if he was scared of what you'll answer, "i want to have kids with you but i don't wanna plan things out if it happens, it happens and if it doesn't right now, it doesn't- let's take it slow"

you saw his expression shift not necessarly sad but still a bit dozed, you ran your hands through his hair as if to cheer him up, squeezing his cheeks after, "you're the only one i could imagine making a family with"

you did in fact not take it slow- not even in the slightest.

"wanna have everything with you, do anything, fuck- you'd be such a hot mom, baby" he groaned out, lips against your skin, gently biting and licking the fragile skin.

"everything just feels so right with you," Jungkook whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he peppered kisses along your jawline. "I never imagined wanting this until I met you"

your mind felt dizzy, hazy even and you could damn well feel your panties getting ruined solely by his words and what did you do? mentally blame it all you being 'drunk' when you knew that you only had one drink during this whole evening - no, the thought of having his children couldn't possibly have this big of an reaction on you, could it?

"i want to cum in you every way possible," he caresses your hair innocently till pulling just a bit harder, gaze dozing off like he didn't just propose his want for ruining you as a whole, slowly kissing all the bare skin of your upper body till stopping at your chest, "have i ever told you how much i love your tits?"

"huh-" he didn't give you a lot of time to think, licking and nibbling like he had been starved of your company and body for months, leaving a few dark hickeys behind, mouth going back to your ear mumbling something almost inaudible about being 'so hard' for you, only you.

you didn't know how much stamina this fucking guy had.

the sound of skin slapping against skin, whines and sobs having have filled the apartment for damn long, you were sure you heard some sorta banging against the walls from your neighbours - certaintly wouldn't be the first time.

whenever he came in you, he watched the cum drip out of you even going as far as tasting the release of of his fingers himself, his hips almost like moving on their own after everytime reaussuring you "just to make sure"

whispering sweet nothings into your neck, cock slapping in and out of you, how you'd make the "prettiest fucking babies" and how he'd "always be there for you"

and after he's done with you, he'd help you clean up, softly washing you, gently placing tiny little kisses over your shoulders, getting you all wrapped up in bed later, clinging onto you like you were about to fade.

your eyes barerly open as his hands brushed over your hair, so slowly like he was luring you to sleep, "you're so important to me"

you fall asleep with a smile on your face, the one he so adores.

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #✉️ frmisnow! 1k follower event

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inkskinned · 3 months

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she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 months

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of course, no problem!! and im sorry my english💓 reader is a very calm and kind person. he never heard her raise her voice, other than speaking normally calmly. oscar or max have never seen her angry, but the reader gets angry at something or someone, things don't go her way and he sees her angry side for the first time.

A Voice To Fear - Max Verstappen

Schumacher!reader (Ralf Schumacher's daughter) x Max Verstappen

Want to put a twist on it using a Schumacher, just bc I want there to kind of be a lot of attention on the relationship for this fic. Hope that's ok, it's what I'm running with.

Max has always been quite protective over his quiet girlfriend who has always been fairly softly spoken and kept most of her more explicit thoughts to herself. They're even very rarely shared with Max.

The two have known each other for years with Max growing up close to the Schumacher's, he's never seen y/n raise her voice once unless out of excitement in a squeal.

Since their relationship became public, there's been an obsession and with y/n being already has quite the following as a public figure who has pretty amazing fashion and is a bit of an icon to many of the fans. A lot of them even have a crush on her and couple have even been a little too obsessive over her.

The media have hassled her but much like Max, she's not so bothered about answering their intrusive questions or catering to their attempts of provoking her into telling them something that simply isn't true.

"Y/n, Max was wondering when you'd get here." Christian chuckles as the young woman appears in the paddock with a few of the photographers snapping pictures of her. "You know I had more people from Sky asking if I could convince you to become a guest presenter for the broadcast."

Y/n smiles awkward smile says it all and Max laughs from his spot next her while moving to pull her into a light kiss.

"You're beginning to be a woman in high demand, no?" Max jokes earning an eye roll from the young lady. "How was your call with your dad?"

"It was ok. I told him I'd speak to Mick, he's in the Mercedes garage so I'll probably go over in a bit." Y/n sighs while Christian seems to shift over to give the couple time without him.

"Not the enemy." Max jokes earning a grin before she leans forward kissing him again but he frowns when she pulls away. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just Sky aren't the only ones hassling me." Y/n shrugs with a slightly exhausted expression watching his frown deepen. "It's fine. I just wish people didn't expect me to be part of the sport in that way. I'm dating you because I think you're an amazing guy. Not because you're a F1 driver."

"But it adds to the charm?"

"You're a moron."

Max grins at her before nodding as he gently cups her face.

"But you are ok, right? You'd tell me if things weren't ok." Max questions earning a nod of reassurance from the young woman. "You can tell me, I'll handle it."

Y/n just smiles shaking her head since she is always dismissive of these matters.

If there's one thing y/n has no interest in, it's being apart of Drive To Survive. She could handle the Sky representatives trying to talk her into helping present but when a Netflix producer comes along to bother her.

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to be involved in anything like this." Y/n states gesturing to the cameras that are very on her.

Anxiety and annoyance is building rapidly in her chest as they remain insistent on essentially breaking her down till she's pliable into agreement.

"Sweetheart, you would just be the perfect person to add your story-"

Then something...snaps.

"Story? What story? I don't want to be apart of your stupid fucking show that creates false narratives and invades on moments that are just not meant for the fucking cameras. So leave me alone. I said no!"

The fast paced bodies in the paddock have frozen. Not only shocked by the volume of someone in the paddock. But specifically the fact the the volume came from the one of the most quiet and happy people from within the F1 community.

Eyes burn through her and the producer who is too stunned to speak.

"Y/n?" A voice calls making her finally knock from her silent glare at the man before she feels a familiar hand link with her own and a warm buzz shoots hums through her, calming her almost in an instant and somewhat slapping her with the reality of what she said. "Come on."

The paddock slowly moves getting back to their business but the whispers of shock over y/n's voice and words are clearly a new talking point. No doubt they'll be headlines and posts online within the hour about it all.

By the time they get into a private room with no audience, Max looks at her but she just dodges his gaze and bites her lip keeping her eyes anywhere else.

"Y/n-"

"Please. I don't want to talk about it." Y/n sighs them groaning and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, a slight tremble in her hands. "I think I'm just going to go back to the hotel. If that's ok?"

"Can we talk about it later?" Max asks earning a sigh before she nods a little. "Ok, go on. Do you want someone to go with you?"

"No. I'm ok." Y/n murmurs earning a nod as he leans over and kisses her forward.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Is y/n ok?" One of the reporters asks as Max stands in the media pit after qualifying.

"She's ok. But perhaps people will learn their lesson to leave her alone." Max states not hiding how unimpressed he is about the whole event.

He doesn't waste much time after that and after a very brief debrief, he heads out. He got pole position so it's not exactly as if much needed to be said.

When he gets back to the hotel, he finds y/n looking guilty and frazzled as she lies in the bath.

"You look so beautiful." Max sighs as he sits beside the tub and she turns to look at him. "Are you ok?"

"I don't know what happened to me. I just feel like I have nothing going on." Y/n mutters then rubbing her hands over her face while Max sighs. "I can't believe I shouted. I never shout. I never get angry like that."

"Y/n, you are allowed to get angry and shout when someone upsets you and won't leave you alone." Max frowns before he looks at her for a moment. "Y/n, I am proud of you for saying what needed to be said and they aren't going to bother you again. I think that much is clear from today."

"But I was...that wasn't how I am."

"No one is expecting you to go around viciously shouting unprovoked at everyone you come across now." Max smiles then sighing as she gives him a deadpanned look. "You made it clear you have no intentions to take shit from them. Your name and your relationship doesn't make you obligated to be a puppet for them."

Y/n's lip quivers since really she can always trust Max to understand and to make sure that there's no crime in not wanting a life that put under a microscope. Some people would say she does it to herself because she dresses well and she does date Max. But why is it fair for someone to dictate what she does and doesn't get to do?

"I love you...you always...make it better." Y/n sighs then tilting her head. "Can you get me a towel? I think I'm ready to get out now."

Max smiles, kissing on top of her head as he stands up and moves to pick up a towel as she stands up from the depth of the water. He does look at her for a brief moment, entirely obsessed with seeing her in all her glory.

"Stop staring."

"Will you shout at me if I don't? It wasn't the most unattractive thing to see you like that." Max smirks while holding his hand out to aid her getting out the bath without injury before wrapping the towel around her. "I love you too, every side of you, every volume and every emotion."

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 6 months

Text

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

#Round 4 #Glenn Close #Lup #Lup TAZ #Dungeons & Daddies #Dungeons and Daddies #Glenn Close DnDads #The Adventure Zone #TAZ Balance

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lovingmattysposts · 1 month

Text

Quiet 7

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo

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

warnings: mentions of an ED. she does not have one! it does not go into description, someone just teases her about her weight. Mentions of an dad drinking.

____________________________________________________

Matt walked next to me as we walked home, I'd seemingly forever given up with taking the bus. It didn't feel right leaving Matt. Then again, it never did.

He walked by me reluctantly, it felt like. He hasn't smiled today. Not that he's known for his smiling, but usually I could get one smile out of him a day. Today didn't seem like that kind of day.

“I found at cat” I decided to break the silence between us.

Matt looked over at me with a confused face. I sighed and looked down at my feet. “Well I guess, a cat found me” I mumbled quietly. It’s not like a stumbled upon it, it just showed up at my house. He just looked down at me as we walked.

"It showed up at my house last night" I explained looking up at him. He looked down a the ground.

"I gave it some food, but I don't know if It will come back or not" I sighed as I attempted to make conversation with him.

“I’ve been bouncing off some names. I don’t know if I want to go the basic route with like ‘Snowy’ or ‘Snowball’ or if I’d rather give it a more original name. Like ‘Iris’ or ‘Sparkle’.” I sighed.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve always wanted to name a pet sparkle, but my dad never let me get one” I shook my head. I turned to him.

“What do you think?”

Shrug.

Something was off with him today. I didn't know if it was because of me or not. It was eating me alive. I felt horrible. I had apologized but I don't really know if he accepted the apology yet.

Nothing but the sound of our steps were between us today. That and the sound of my voice, which even I was getting tired of hearing.

I stopped walking and looked up at him. He paused and turned to look at me when he realized I had stopped walking. I frowned at him. He just stared.

"Why are you upset?" I whispered softly. He took in a breath and closed his eyes. I shifted on my feet.

"Are you still mad at me?" I asked. He looked over at me and shook his head. I licked my lips.

"You promise?" I asked softly. He blinked at me before walking up to me and grabbing my hand, interlocking our pinkies before letting it go. I smiled softly.

Pinky promise.

He turned and started walking again. I followed.

"So it's not me. Then what is it?" I asked softly leaning into his view. He sighed and looked forward. No answer. No indication. I leaned over to him slightly.

"Do you want me to come over? We could do something funnn" I sang smiling. He shook his head.

"You don't want me to come over or you’re just allergic to fun?" I asked smiling. He paused and then shook his head. I swallowed and looked down. Not in the mood for jokes.

"Okay" I whispered. He didn't want to talk or communicate it seemed.

After walking a little bit in silence he veered off towards his neighborhood without another look. I paused and watched him as he walked away. I swallowed. I really hoped he wasn't mad at me. But if he wasnt, then what was he so upset about?

I turned and walked down the rest of the sidewalk. Whatever it was, I obviously had no idea. It still hurt to see him so closed off all of the sudden. Even more than before.

My thoughts made the walk to my house quicker and before I knew it, I was pushing my door open. I needed sleep. I just needed my bed, my room.

I walked through the living room, not expecting to see my dad there. It was only 3:30. I jumped back slightly suprised by his presence. He looked over at me.

"Ah, there you are. How was school? Tell me about it" He breathed closing his eyes and leaning back against the pillows of the couch. I blinked down at him, observing his state. Wondering why he was home.

"What are you doing home so early?" I mumbled. He sighed and rolled over attempting to reach for a cup but knocked it over. "Shit" He reached for it, but I grabbed it moving it out of his reach.

"Here Dad, let me help you-"

"Dammit, Y/n" he spat. My eyes widended at him. I didn't think I did anything wrong. He grumbled and stood up, towering over me. I shrank beneath him. He closed his eyes and let go of a breath. He reached down picking up the cup and walking over to the kitchen.

I just watched him.

"Tell me about school" He spoke again. I crossed my arms over myself suddenly feeling like I was walking on eggshells. I hated when he yelled. When he raised his voice. It scared me. I didn't like it.

"School's good" I almost whispered just wanting to retreat into my room as fast as possible. He hummed from the kitchen.

I took in a breath as I looked towards the kitchen.

"Do you think we could maybe get some food tonight? I really liked those noodles" I smiled over at him hopefully. He groaned as he walked back into the living room where I was.

"Y/n, I'm in between jobs right now. The boss making some bullshit claim against me. It cost me my job" He shook his head as he sank back into the couch, his cup refilled. I looked down at my feet.

"I've had a bad day, money's tight right now. You've got to understand that" He shook his head. I nodded and hugged my arms. "I do, understand" I whispered.

"There's half a sandwhich in the fridge if you get hungry" He pointed towards the kitchen. I looked off towards the kitchen. I had given that sandwhich to the cat yesterday. Instead of telling him that, afraid of the backlash, I just nodded.

"Friends--what about friends? You made any?" He mumbled after a few seconds continuing on our previous conversation.

I shifted on my feet in front of him.

"I went to a hockey game the other day. I went out to eat with some friends afterwards" I spoke, it was kinda a lie. They weren't my friends, they were Jake's friends. I didn't really know if I wanted them to be my friends.

He mumbled and nodded.

"And I have this one friend I sit with a lunch, he's nice to me" I mumbled. That was true, he was nice. But it was hard to be mean when you didn't speak. He didn't have the power to slice me with his words, but with his looks. His eyes. I didn't know if that was better or worse.

"What's his name?" My dad blinked up at me, bringing the cup to his lips. "Matt" I answered. "But the one I went to eat with, his name was Jake" I explained. He nodded and hummed, his eys drifting closed again.

"I like hanging out with Matt, even though he doesn't say much. I think he's a good friend. Jake on the other hand. I haven’t figure him out. He--"

I was cut off by the sound of my dad's snores. I looked up at him and he had passed out, the cup still in his hands.

I shut my mouth as I looked down at him. I sighed as I leaned forward and took the cup out of his hands and walked over to the kitchen before pouring out its contents.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched the brown liquid circle the drain and then disappear. I looked over to the brown bag next to the sink before digging into, anger rising in me. Pulling out a receipt, I scanned over it.

$50.91

His words rang in me.

money's tight right now

I crumbled the receipt and took in a deep breath before walking up the stairs and away from my dad. I pushed the angry behind me as I walked into my room. The angry quickly turned to tears as I fell face-first into my pillows.

I was angry. Angry at myself. Angry at my dad. Just angry. And I let the blankets consume me as my stomach growled angrily as well.

Are you okay?

I pushed Matt's notebook away from me, looking back down at my desk. A sense of hurt crossed his face from the corner of my vision. I placed my arms over my desk and laid against them.

I didn't want to come to school today, but the alternative was worse. Being home. I let my eyes close and the darkness of that consume. I almost felt peace.

I felt the corner of Matt's notebook hit my arm. I blinked my eyes open. He stared down at me. I glanced down at the notebook.

I'm sorry about yesterday.

Blankly written across the page. No explanation, no nothing. Just 'I'm sorry for yesterday'. I picked up a pencil and quickly wrote back just so he would leave me alone.

I'm not mad at you Matt. I'm not in the mood just leave me alone.

I sighed as I closed my eyes again as he stared down at the page. I felt him pick up the notebook again and place it back down. He tapped my arm.

I sat up with an angry demeanor. What part of leave me alone, did he not understand? He looked down at the notebook. I glanced down.

You look pretty today.

Was written softly against the page. The angry inside of me dissipated with those four words and I stared at the page a small smile coming to my face. I wrote back,

Thank you. I don't feel it, but thank you.

"Y/n!"

I turned as I heard my name being called. I saw Jake waving me over to a table he was sitting at. Him, Tyler, Gavin, Lacey, and Nadia sat with him. I turned back and saw Matt sitting at our usual table, unknowingly drawing like usual.

I turned on my feet and walked over to Jake. I smiled softly as he looked up at me.

"Wanna sit?" He asked motioning next to him, scooting over to make room. I opened my mouth and looked over to Matt, his eyebrows furrowed and his glasses low on his nose as he focused in on his drawing.

I turned back to Jake.

"I---I usually sit with Matt" I motioned behind me. His eyes trailed behind me breifly and looked back at me.

"Don't you want to talk to someone while you eat?" He chuckled lightly. I looked up and saw Nadia and Lacey's eyes on me.

I furrowed my eyebrows at his words. His rude words. "I-" I shook my head. "Awe come on y/n, sit with us" Nadia said from the other side of the table. I looked at her before turning and looking at Matt behind me.

His eyes finally raised, most likely looking for me. His eyes landed on me as I stared at him. He looked over at Jake and back to me. He looked back down at his notebook, but his pencil was frozen against the page.

I swallowed and turned back to Jake.

"I'm okay, really. I wanna sit with him." I shook my head. Jake sighed and looked at the table. "Okay, fine. But you still owe me help with Biology" He smiled lightly. I smiled and nodded.

"Friday? My house?" He asked leaning into me slightly. I smiled and nodded. "Okay" I agreed rather quickly, maybe too quickly. Lacey set down her salad in front of her.

"Friday we were all suppose to go bowling" She protested glaring at Jake. Jake looked over at her. "I’ll just sit this one out. Give Gavin a chance to actual win" Jake said back bumping Gavin’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes. Lacey glared harder.

"Since when do you care so much about biology?" She snapped.

"Since when do you care so much about bowling?"

"Since we had plans before you decided to go with miss eating disorder over here" Lacey snapped. The table went quiet and I felt my face drain from the small comment.

"Lacey" Nadia spoke softly looking at her friend, her face twisted in anger. Lacey looked up at me and I could feel my heart beat against my chest. The eyes on me. The silence in the air. She sighed and looked down at her food and just shook her head. I swallowed.

"I'll see you Friday, Jake" I whispered before I walked off and towards Matt. I felt my lip quiver and I closed my eyes. I let out an unsteady breath as I approached the table and sat down next to him.

Matt's eyes were on me and I did everything to avoid them. I swallowed.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not do it Y/n.

I just wished that people wouldn't notice. I didn't have a bad relationship with food. I loved food. I loved to eat. I just didn't have the luxury of getting to eat all the time. His eyes burned into me.

I felt a tear pass my waterlines and fall down my face. I quickly reached up and wiped it before pulling out my book and hiding in between the pages.

I couldn’t not focus on Matt’s gaze. And I couldn’t not focus on the tears behind my eyes. I sighed before giving up and dropping the book and covering my face with my hands, shielding myself.

"Why are people so mean Matt?" I whispered against my hands. I swallowed and dropped my hands looking over at him. His eyes swarmed with worry as he looked at me. I took in a shaky breath as I looked back down.

I felt his hand cover mine and squeeze it softly before picking up his pencil with his other and continue to sketch, his hand still grasping mine.

The rest of the day went by dreadfully slow. Matt had tried to cheered me back up, it worked. Kind of. I still felt the weight on my chest.

He even drew a few small sketches in the corner of my notebook during class. Small figures to make me smile.

Just from the tiny sketches he drew to make me smile, I knew his in-depth sketches must be breathtaking. Still, I didn’t want to pry.

I sighed as I finally exited the school doors after what felt like the worst day of my life. I looked down at my feet as I felt Matt's presence next to me. There wasn't any need for words to be exchanged. He knew that and I knew that.

I stared down at my feet and every now and then Matt would look up at me and open his mouth. I paid no attention to him. After a second he would just look away.

We got to the point in our walk where he would veer off without another word and I just stared at my feet. But he didn't turn. He kept walking with me. I looked up at him, he stared forward.

"Are you not going home?" I asked him. He shrugged. I looked down. I wrapped my arms around myself. "Do you want to come home with me?" I asked softly, hopefully. Pathetically.

He's the only one who seems capable of making me feel better. Now I needed it more than ever, I needed the reassurance. He didn't react though. He just looked down at his feet as he walked. I swallowed and didn't ask another question until we were standing at my front door.

I glanced over at him before I heard the sound again. A soft purr. I looked down at my feet. The white cat seemingly making it's return. I smiled and bent down running my hands over its back.

"I was just telling Matt about you yesterday. You must have heard me." I said softly down to the cat. I looked up at Matt who smiled softly down at the cat that was rubbing against my hand. I stood up, facing Matt.

"The Boston winter is brutal. I feel bad for the cat, but my dad would never let me take it in" I breathed looking at Matt. He bit his lip and looked down at the cat.

“She does look like a Sparkle though doesn’t she?” I asked with a half smile. He smiled at me. "Come on" I sighed as I pushed the door open and let Matt inside.

The white noise of the TV was the only sound that ever seemed to be inside the house these days. Matt's eyes lingered as we walked into the kitchen. I pushed past the fear of judgement knowing out of everyone, Matt wouldn't say anything, literally.

I wrapped my arms around myself as he looked around. His eyes landed on a photo. The only framed photo sitting on the counter. A picture of me, my dad, and my mom.

His finger traced over the corners and he smiled softly. I stood beside him, tilting my head at the photo. Sometimes when I looked at that photo I think that's the last time I was truly happy. When my mom wasn't sick, when my dad didn't drink, and when I wasn't 'skin and bones'. I felt my stomach turn.

I turned away from the photo quickly enough to grab Matt's attention. He set down the photo and looked over at me. I leaned against the counter. This day was too much. I closed my eyes.

"Y/n, you're home. Good--" My dad announced himself walking into the kitchen. My eyes snapped up and I felt Matt freeze next to me. My dad stared at him, blinking.

He reeked of alcohol.

I closed my eyes. Out of everytime I've ever wanted to disappear, vanish into thin air as If I never existed at all, this one. This one, topped the list.

"There is a boy in my kitchen" He pointed at Matt. "Is this Jake?" My dad asked blinking over at me, moving his body a little took much for one small motion. My eyes widened. Matt looked over at me.

"No dad--" I swallowed. "This is Matt, remember? I told you about Matt" I breathed. I had, I told him about Matt. My dad smacked his lips. "Right. The kid who doesn't talk" He pointed at Matt. I felt the color leave my face from the rudeness of my father's words.

Matt didn't react, or at least didn't show it on his face. My dad didn't pay any mind to Matt, didn't even ask him why he was here. He moved around him and looked down at the picture frame Matt and I were just looking at.

"Her mother was a beaut wasn't she?" His thick Boston accent spoke over us. Matt looked down at the photo.

"She's got her mother's eyes in her, don't she?" My dad looked at Matt. Matt turned to look at me.

I looked down at my feet. Disappear. Disappear.

My dad grumbled and set down the photo. "I'm going out--" He stumbled towards his keys.

"Dad" I stepped forward. He turned and shook his head. "I've got it under control Y/n" He said sharply. I didn't fight him, I just sank back as he walked towards the door.

Matt just looked down at me as the door closed. I stared at the door. Half of the time when he walked out like that, I wondered if I would ever see him again. A part of me didn't care. The other part of me did, I mean he was my dad. The only family I had left.

Silence filled the room and I just turned and walked towards the steps. I heard Matt follow. He knew to without me even motioning him. In times like these I appreciated our friendship, and I appreciated the fact that he didn't speak.

I walked into my room, him following suit. I glanced around my small bedroom, like I had said before. It wasn't much. Not compared to his. There was no personality.

A few books along the shelves that was it, my favorites now missing from the collection. But it was my safe haven nonetheless. My escape. My room.

I blinked up at him. He stared at me. I forced a smile, hoping to show him that nothing about the interaction with my dad had upset me, and my face did just that. Yet, my eyes gave it away.

He bit down on his lip and he held his palm and used his finger to pretend to scrible on it and glanced around. I furrowed my eyebrows confused before realizing what he was asking for.

I leaned down, opening my bag and handing him a notebook and a pen. He took it out of my hands and grabbed my arm, dragging me over to my bed. I followed, let him drag me. My eyes didn't leave his as we laid across my sheets.

He opened the notebook and pressed the pen to it. He looked up and bit his lip before writing, as if he was gathering his thoughts. I glanced down at the paper, not fully reading the sentence until it was written completely.

You never asked me why I don't talk. Why?

I contemplated the question and he stared down at me. I pursed my lips before taking the pen out of his hand.

I could have just spoken the answer, but I wanted to use the same communcation as he was. It seemed like the right thing to do. I wrote back.

It seemed personal. I didn't want to intrude.

I looked up at him as he stared down at the paper and I handed him the pen, or rather, set it down on the paper between us. He picked it up and pressed the pen down.

If you would have asked, I would have told you.

I looked up at him before writing back.

I know.

I stared at the paper before writing some more.

I want you to tell me in your own time, not because I asked you too.

He smiled softly at the page. He took the pen from my hands.

Is there anything you do want to ask me?

I pursed my lips and looked down at the page. He's giving you free range to ask him anything Y/n. My mind rang before I picked up the pen.

Why didn't you want me to come over yesterday?

I wrote blankly. He looked down at the page, he let go of a breath and took the pen from me, writing his answer.

There was something I had to deal with that I didn't want you there for.

No specifics, just ‘I had something to deal with’. I sighed and looked at the page, deciding not to push it. He wrote again.

Anything else? I’m in the mood for conversation

I chuckled at his written words and he smiled down at me. I sighed before taking the pen and writing something else. I paused as I started to write it, feeling it in my gut.

If I ask you this, will you be honest?

He blinked down at the page, his smile disappearing. He looked over at me and nodded. I looked back down at the page.

do you think I look frail? Like I’m so skinny that’s it’s all you can notice about me?

He looked down at the page. His eyebrows furrowing at the page. I swallowed as he took the pen out of my hands. He paused the pen against the page as if he was thinking.

I turned away from him. I heard him write something. He tapped my shoulder. I turned back to him, my vision coming over the paper.

Your weight isn’t the first 20 things I notice when I look at you

I looked up at him. He smiled softly down at me before writing again.

why?

I shrugged letting silence fall between us. Replaying Lacey’s words in my head. I don't know why I let her get to me and I don't know why it bothered me that Jake didn't say anything about her comment. I swallowed the discomort falling over me again.

I sighed leaning my head against his shoulder. I felt his arm move again to write. I watched as his arm moved under me.

I like you no matter what you look like

I smiled. A genuine smile. It felt good. A few seconds later he crossed out the word ‘you’ and made an arrow towards a blank part of the page and wrote the words ‘hanging out with you’.

As if he meant to write:

I like hanging out with you, no matter what you look like.

I moved to look up at him. His eyes widened and his cheeks pink from his mistake. I chuckled next to him and took the pen out of his hand and wrote a sentence.

I like you whether you talk or whether you don’t talk.

I let the sentence sit there for a second before making the same marks he did. Crossing out the word ‘you’ an pointing to ‘hanging out with you’

As if I meant to write:

I like hanging out with you, whether you talk or whether you don’t talk.

He smiled down at the page and then down at me. I smiled back before laying against his shoulder. That’s when I realized my lack of sleep and let myself drift off.

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

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miley1442111 · 1 month

Text

the problem with arguing

a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner

summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?

warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.

1.6k + words.

“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it.

I knock again as I huff.

“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye.

“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh.

“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?”

A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile.

“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?”

My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.”

The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness.

“You two know what time it is?” He yawns.

“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?”

“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure.

He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”

We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.

And that’s when it all goes black.

I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me.

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number.

I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron.

“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.

Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails.

“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out.

“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise.

“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks.

I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out.

I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt.

“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed.

“Jack,” I sigh in relief.

“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive.

Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”

I smile at both of them.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor.

“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke.

“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy.

The next day, the team come in to visit.

“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me.

“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”

“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says.

“We got the guy-” Emily starts.

“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”

“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”

I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray.

“Hungry?” He smiles.

“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”

“No.”

My face drops. “Oh.”

“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I did.”

I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”

“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”

“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.”

His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy.

“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds.

“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food.

“I love you too.”

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buggachat · 10 months

Text

So, this is very important. Emilie or Amelie?

(Answer: Amelie. But seriously, I'm getting ahead of myself, let's talk about it.)

This is kind of a long post. If you don't want to read all of my ramblings, feel free to skip to the final point. That's the important one.

A mysterious woman who is clearly one of the two Graham de Vanily twins was in attendance of the party at the end of the episode. But is she Emilie (Adrien's dead mom, revived by Gabriel's wish) or Amelie (Adrien's already alive aunt)?

Here's the thing. The answer to this question is actually extremely important. Emilie being alive would be a HUGE deal and would have extreme consequences on the narrative and themes of the show.

Seriously. We need to know whether or not Emilie is alive. So, let's discuss— what do we know?

1. Amelie should be at this party.

Seriously. Amelie would be at Adrien's party.

You know who is in attendance at Adrien's party? Not just his friends, but also adults in his life. Nathalie. Su-Han. Jagged Stone. Penny Rolling.

You know what Penny Rolling's relationship is to Adrien? She's the manager/new girlfriend of his friend Luka's recently-undeadbeated-dad. And she was invited to Adrien's party.

Seriously. This is a party of any significant character. Everyone and their mother was invited and— hey wait, where's Félix's mother? Félix is here, and certainly our favorite mommy's boy would invite his mother along. Surely Adrien's aunt would be invited to Adrien's party.

You know, Amelie's aunt, who had a not insignificant arc in the story? A family member to the Agrestes, who we've seen struggle, who would well deserve a shot of her smiling at a party at the finale?

Amelie, who had some unresolved tension with Nathalie, centered around their respective relationships with Gabriel? Tension that would likely be rectified after Gabriel's demise?

Not only would Amelie be at this party, but I absolutely believe she would be sitting next to Nathalie. (I mean, they do know each other. Who else at that party does Amelie even know?)

If that's not Amelie, then where is she?

Oh, and side note, what was the shot just before the shot of the mysterious woman? Oh, that's right. Amelie's son.

2. She only appears for a brief flash, given no more significance than any other character in attendance.

There's a reason why everyone is using the same shot of the mysterious woman when discussing her. That is the only shot of her. There are more shots of Penny Rolling than of her.

Here's the thing. Either Emilie is alive in this final scene, or she isn't. So, how would you expect this scene to play for these circumstances?

Here is a complete list of everything I would expect if Emilie were not alive:

A brief shot of Amelie.

Here is an incomplete list of some of the things I would expect from a "Emilie, the mother of the deuteragonist and ghost that has been haunting the narrative for 5 Seasons, is alive now" reveal, at the bare minimum:

A shot that lingers on Emilie.

Emilie, seated with Nathalie AND HER TWIN SISTER.

A shot of Emilie opening her eyes during Gabriel's wish.

The newscast, which they watch during the party, having a mention of "... and Parisians are still celebrating the rescue of Emilie Agreste, who was previously missing but recently found!"

Adrien literally acknowledging that his dead mother is suddenly alive at all? AT ALL? Looking at her, mentioning her, literally ANYTHING from him? I mean, seriously, what did he think happened—

3. Adrien's perception of his mother's reappearance would need to be addressed. It was not.

Adrien does not know the wish was cast.

Adrien does not know anything.

Here's the thing. While, yes, Emilie has been described as "missing"/"disappeared" in the show, it is absolutely clear to the audience that Adrien has been under the impression that Emilie is dead.

We know this from the painting in the foyer that depicts Gabriel and Adrien in mourning. We know this from the way that Adrien (correctly) draws the conclusion that "Nathalie has the same illness as my mother, therefore she is dying". We know this from the way that Adrien speaks about his mother in past tense, how he encourages his father to move on and date Nathalie, how he has never once in the show seemed to be under the impression that Emilie could come back.

So, if Emilie suddenly came back........... someone would need to explain it to Adrien. He would need to be fed another lie about it. We would need to be made privy as to what he believes happened.

Examples of how this could have been easily achieved:

Again, the newscast. Nadja acknowledging that the missing Emilie Agreste had been found. Maybe mentioning that "she was found being held captive by Monarch" or something. I dunno, whatever lie that works.

Adrien, during his conversation with Marinette, mentioning what happened to Emilie from his perspective, the same way he vocalized to her what his perception of Gabriel's death was. I mean, seriously, Adrien was already doing this expositional dialogue... why wouldn't he mention his mom during it?

4. Leaked production material does not change the final product.

Yes, scripts were leaked of this season. There are deleted scenes in the storyboards. There are script changes and allusions to certain things and mentions here and there in these materials that suggest that the mysterious woman could have, at some point in production, been Emilie.

... at some point in production.

So, here's the thing. This is the most solid Emilie argument we have. In fact, I'd argue it's the only argument that holds any real ground at all. .......... and it's in content that we aren't supposed to have.

( Actually, it's the only real Emilie argument I've seen... period. The only other one I've seen is the fact her statue is gone, but I'd argue that the removal of her statue has symbolic weight no matter what. It was a symbol of Gabriel's obsession over her, the way that she haunts the narrative, the way she looms over the Agreste household. Alive or not, this is not the case anymore. So it makes sense to remove it. )

If your interpretation of the source material is solely, and I mean SOLELY based off of out-of-context snippets of things that were in the writer's room Vaguely At Some Point, things that now directly contradict the final product, things that the audience was absolutely under no circumstances meant to see...

You're not interpreting the episode. You're interpreting out-of-context snippets of a rough draft of it.

So, here's the thing. I've seen some of these leaks, I've seen a lot of people talk about these leaks, I've seen the rumors and I've heard the gossip. I'm not going to parrot it, because honestly, I'm still annoyed that the leaks exist at all. It feels a bit insulting to the art form, tbh, that incomplete scripts are being passed around and touted as significant and more accurate than the actual completed script.

But I'll say one thing:

If the rough drafts of scripts, deleted scenes, etc pointed to Emilie being alive.......

Why did they remove them?

(The answer is simple: because they changed their minds. And you don't have to stress about or mull over why they did it, because you were never supposed to know that it was changed, because you were never supposed to know about out-of-context rough drafts of the script in the first place. It doesn't matter. It's not the product. Writers are allowed to toss around ideas and scripts and then change them. It's unimportant and you're not supposed to be privy to it. It's not for you. It's not what they made. It's certainly not more accurate to the direction they're headed than what they settled on. )

Point is:

IF THE LEAKS DIDN'T EXIST, YOU WOULDN'T BE CONFUSED.

YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THE LEAKS.

YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE CONFUSED.

5. So, Astruc on twitter.

Okay, I love perusing Astruc's twitter for snippets of information as much as the next obsessive miraculous fan. I have perused his twitter a lot. Astruc always addresses comments and concerns under like 20 layers of coyness.

People ask him, "is it Emilie or Amelie"? And basically, every time, he responds with some variation on "pay attention and you'll know".

He's been shooting down people presenting the clues they find to him, on both sides of the argument. Some examples (which include the Amelie wearing black and Emilie wearing white thing):

So, what does this mean, beyond the already known fact that Astruc likes to mess with us?

Obviously, I'm not Astruc. I don't know his mind. I also don't have much of vested interest in dissecting everything he says, nor do I take his word at face value a lot of the time (again, he likes to mess with us).

However, I think two things are fairly clear here:

It IS possible to know whether or not Emilie was revived by watching the episode.

It's not the small details he wants us to look at. Admittedly, color schemes and set dressings are small details. It's not the big picture. It's not important. It's not the heart of what he, or any writer in his position, would want us to interpret.

( Side note, but if nearly every single Emilie argument is based off of things NOT ACTUALLY IN THE EPISODE, then doesn't Astruc saying the answer is in the episode shoot that down right off the bat? But hey! I digress. )

So, what is the big picture? What are the things that writers are truly proud of? What is the thing that a writer would want us to pay attention to? What are the details of the show that can help point us to what transpired in the episode? What—

6. The WRITING of the ENTIRE SERIES, INCLUDING within THIS VERY episode, the dialogue, the themes, the character beats, the symbolism— Literally. All of it. Points to Emilie. STAYING. DEAD.

This is actually the heart of my point.

Emilie absolutely was not revived here.

Here's the thing. The themes of grief and loss and mourning are extremely present within the Agreste arc. Throughout the entire series, the following has been hammered in by the writing:

Gabriel is obsessive for wanting to bring Emilie back. His desires are not healthy or sound. He is delusional. He is hurting Adrien and Nathalie by living in this fantasy.

Gabriel should have moved on.

Nathalie wants to move on.

Adrien has already moved on.

EMILIE HERSELF wanted them all to move on.

Emilie is a nearly angelic figure. Adrien is literally the deuteragonist of the series. Nathalie is a morally grey character with a clear redemption arc. Gabriel is the antagonist.

The "better" the character is, the more certain they are that Emilie should not be revived.

The CORRECT choice, if Gabriel and Nathalie chose the "right" path from the start, would have been for Gabriel and Nathalie to focus on parenting Adrien themselves, instead of obsessing over bringing a dead woman who has already come to terms with her death back to life. That's what Emilie wanted. That's what Adrien wants. That's what Nathalie has wanted but was too afraid to say. That's what Gabriel refuses to accept.

Look, if I go in depth into the scenes where this is addressed, I'd be here all day. Instead, have a screenshot compilation, I guess.

Again. That's been a core message of the series this entire time. And while I don't have screenshots of it being spoken so plainly in seasons 1 and 2, Gabriel has always been depicted as sinister, and his obsession has always been framed in the wrong.

Now, if you're one of those people who refuse to analyze the text at all or interpret what the messages of the show are on the grounds of "the writing sucks so who cares, it's probably just inconsistent writing and they forgot about the themes in the final episode" or whatever, then like. Ok. But here's the thing— this theme is even more hammered home in the finale.

Guys. I'm serious. What the hell do you think the scene before the wish was saying?

Gabriel, at his lowest moment, brought down. Gabriel, detransformed and on his knees before Bug Noir. Gabriel, at the final hour of his life, near tears, still obsessing over his wife, still thinking of his wife his wife his wife above all else, as Bug Noir lays out the literal themes of the show to him in all their beautiful glory.

And then literally forces him to watch the very videos that he had tried to force Nathalie to delete. Forces him to face the very words he refused to acknowledge. Forces him, at his lowest, to come face-to-face with the truth he denied.

.... And it hits him. What she's saying hits him. Because how can he deny Emilie's own words? The very woman he's doing it all for? How can he bring her back to life when she would want nothing less? How can he force the love of his life to live knowing that someone had died for her to, when she didn't want that? How could he have lost himself so much in the madness?

And then Bug Noir comes in with THIS

.... And Gabriel says....

.... Note that, he does not continue to deny it. He does not plead his case that Emilie should be alive. He is no longer arguing that. Here, he has seemingly begun to accept the premise that Emilie should not be brought back to life. Instead, he has a new premise:

He does not want to be alive if Emilie is not.

Gabriel is not selfless. Gabriel is not a good man. Gabriel says, earlier in the episode, flat out, that he is more than willing to kill whoever it takes, whatever rando he wants, to get what he wants.

Here's the thing.

Gabriel wants to be with Emilie.

Gabriel is willing to kill anyone, whoever it takes, to make this happen.

Gabriel realizes Emilie does not want to be alive.

Gabriel decides that he will honor Emilie's final wish......... only partially.

Because Emilie wanted both Gabriel and Nathalie to take care of Adrien. But Gabriel does not want that. It's not that Gabriel is above killing someone to save his own life, it's that he realizes that he, too, does not want to be saved. Because he does not want to live in a world without Emilie.

He would rather be dead, with her, than alive and caring for his own son.

Gabriel Agreste's wish is a suicide. I mean, we already knew this— but I mean, literally. It's not a selfless sacrifice. It's not one final act of goodness. It's a suicide. He decides he wants to die, and he decides that he will save Nathalie in the act— because it's what Emilie wanted, and Gabriel is obsessive. The only person who would reason with him is Emilie herself.

And what does Gabriel's wish look like? How is it depicted to us?

Gabriel and Emilie, cast in a white light. Emilie lifts from her coffin, notably still limp, as Gabriel rises up with her.

He rises up with her, notably supporting her limp head with his hand. She is still unconscious. And he is joining her.

One last selfish act. The final nail into his "trying to be a dad" coffin. He doesn't want to be a dad anymore. He only wants to be with Emilie. And he will gladly pass that responsibility, the responsibility of parentage, onto Nathalie— The only character in the show who has been showing an explicit, vested interest in LIVING to take care of and be a parent to Adrien.

Nathalie is alive. Nathalie is well. A life for a life. One life for one life. That's all that's depicted. That's all that's shown.

Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that more could've been a part of that wish? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that the wish could've been more complicated? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that some random other person died? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that all of that dialogue and that entire scene and the entire buildup of Emilie's recordings were just soooooo lol random and that Emilie just decided that she's totally cool with being revived and alive now and that the entire themes of the series were a lie?

I also think it's technically possible that Marinette has secretly been a hamster wearing a human suit this whole time, and Lila is actually secretly a sentimonster made by Gorilla. And maybe this show isn't a romance, actually, and that Adrien and Marinette aren't meant to be endgame. In fact, maybe the entire series was a big prank. Maybe I'm adopted and my parents lied to me about it.

But how it looks, from what I see, from what I've watched, what just happened is....

Gabriel accepted that Emilie is dead.

This made Gabriel want to die, too. Because he doesn't care about Adrien as much as he cares about Emilie.

So, he did. And he shirked parentage onto Nathalie.

Is this "winning", by the way? By any stretch? Is this "Gabriel getting what he always wanted"? Is this "Gabriel being proved right"? Is this a lack of consequences? Are we really going to call a broken man, who has been slowly turning to ash and rotting away for an entire season, who suffered and was beaten down and, at the very end, had the only people ever in his corner (Nathalie and Adrien) cursing his name and wanting him dead.... him being right all along? Is him committing suicide the series justifying his actions? Is him committing suicide (again, not a selfless sacrifice) him "doing good" and "being redeemed" by the narrative? Is a faux image of him, a false narrative, a complete fictional person that he never truly was being celebrated by ignorant Parisians, him "being redeemed"? I suppose that's another essay altogether. But I'm tired of writing.

also, there was still only one goddamn twin at that party

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 finale spoilers #ml recreation #recreation spoilers #re-creation spoilers #ml re-creation #emilie agreste #amelie graham de vanily #gabriel agreste

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acarillustrated · 6 months

Text

hi my name is august and for the past week or so i have become so consumed by thoughts of avatar the last airbender that it is actually ruining my life and relationships.

yeah so unfortunately i can only be completely insane about this so i have to stop before it consumes me or at least manage the fixation i have for this early 20s zutara au

+ mai bc its really a shame that they didn't resolve her story outside of her relationship to zuko. so i think she starts fight club. which gradually turns into a gladiatorial ring

edit: im typing up everything that i wrote in the drawing bc it just occured to me that not only is my handwriting a mess, but it's also cursive

Image 1

katara: How do you live in this hot ass country.

zuko: What about that literal glacier you live on, hm? Do you see me complaining?

Image 2

Zuko: my plan right now is to soft launch democracy for the Fire Nation. like, i don't think we can do that now because we're so weak, but 10-20 years down the line?

Image 3

Zuko: Honestly, my plan right now is to rule for a couple generations and fix everything that my father and my grandfather did , and then establish a democracy.

Katara: why not a democracy now?

Zuko: because the people of the Fire Nation don't know the truth about their own history. they've been fed propaganda for a hundred years. they need to be able to make informed decisions before i can do that.

Katara: and after that?

Zuko: after that im fucking off to the earth kingdom to take over my uncle's tea house and you will literally never hear from me again

Image 4

from left to right "katara" "need to redo the face" "this is chief katara to me. this is her at around 19/20 to me" "Anime katara. this anime shit is easy" "fire nation katara. putting her at about 14 y/o" "this is a screencap redraw"

Image 5

me: hello greenpeace

katara: after my mother died i had a lot of unchecked rage for the world, so my dad signed me up for tai chi classes to, like, calm me down but i ended up still angry but also really good at tai chi

katara: i feel like im doing well all things considered

me: katara is so special to me. she is a fully realized creation to me. so casual. so passionate about the world. one thing about her is that she is an activist. she has a strong sense of justice. fuck. the train jumped lol

image 6

mai: zuko, im starting a gladitorial ring and i don't know the legality of it so if you could just change the laws as i go that'd be great

zuko: yeah sure that sounds great

zuko, but smaller: wait what.

image 7

mai: REF, ARE YOU BLIND?! WHAT KIND OF CALL IS THAT!

background guy: woah holy shit

captioned: "Mai starts a gladiatorial fight club

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #katara #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #chief katara #mai #atla mai #softboy art time #atla fanart #zutara #yeah so if anyone want to talk to me about this i would Love to #because i think my friends are bored of me going on unprompted monologues about katara #shout out to all the gay men that like zutara #its me and you against the world #bc im pretty sure we've lost the rest of us to zukka

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swiftispunk · 11 months

Note

Hiiii I just had this idea I know I submit requests all the time but…ok.

I just love that Joel is a natural protector. He wants to keep the people closest to him safe. However, reader is kind of proud and horrible at accepting help and favors from him. One day she’s cooking and accidentally slices herself with a knife and Joel’s trying to help her and she’s just not letting it happen. She’s trying to tend to her injury herself but she’s getting dizzy and failing miserably and Joel is like “Jesus Christ. Sit down, shut up, and let me fix you for fuck’s sake. If you don’t swallow your pride I’m gonna make you swallow it myself”

And like. Wow. Watching Joel be so skilled at wrapping her injury and be so commanding is kind of a turn on! So she still keeps up her proud attitude until he’s fucking her lol

I can just picture Joel fucking her while saying “you’re gonna let me take care of you from now. Got it?”

i’m in a state | joel miller x f!reader

an in my hometown story (prequel) | series playlist

pairing: pre-outbreak!dbf!neighbour!joel miller x afab!fem!actor(ish)!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 2.1k summary: the moment that sends you over the edge with your neighbour, joel. warnings etc: metaphorical smut, blood, hurt/comfort, stubborn!reader, sexual tension, fantasizing about joel miller’s hands, sex dreams (p in v sex + surprise sir kink WHAT), masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, darlin’), 10 year age gap (reader is 20 here, joel is 30), mentions of food. NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: oh what’s this? yeah sooooo i couldn’t get it out of my head how much this was joel x superstar (aka in my hometown coded). so here’s a little prequel story for them, my two favourite babies. i missed being inside her head tbh. for those following the story, this takes place pre-part one (1997), and can be enjoyed as a stand-alone.

Summer. 1997.

You've known for a while that you're in love with Joel Miller. But that means something a little different when you're fifteen compared to when you're twenty.

When you were younger, it had meant carving his initials into your dresser, planning your imaginary wedding, reading catalogs and fantasizing over what dress you'd wear on your first date or what dining set you'd buy to furnish your shared home with his Big(?) Contractor's Salary.

Now, you're in college. Third year at the University of Texas at Austin. That Barbie-dream-life with Joel doesn't exist, and that's okay. Because now Joel's just...hot. Your hot thirty-year-old neighbour who's got the thickest arms you've ever seen, a patchy beard you'd love to sink your teeth into, chapped lips you've been thinking about kissing for years, big hands you want wrapped around your -

Okay, relax.

It's July Fourth weekend, and your dad's hosting his annual backyard barbeque party. He's loved throwing little get-togethers like this ever since your mom left, loves surrounding himself with friends and good times after being deprived of them for so long. You get it.

You're in the kitchen chopping celery for the potato salad when Joel finds you, ducking into the fridge for a beer.

"Hey, kid," he greets you in that familiar grumbly timbre of his. You look up from your work for one second to respond and -

Shit shit shit.

The knife slips, slicing a deep, clean line into the skin of your palm.

"Ouch - fuck," you mutter, immediately sticking your hand under the kitchen tap and hissing through your teeth when the water pressure hits the open wound.

"You okay?" Joel asks, having witnessed the entire incident happen, too fast for him to stop it. He leaves the beer in the fridge to come to your side, reaching his hands out helplessly to offer some assistance.

"I'm fine," you insist. "I got it."

You can't even look at him, it's fucking embarrassing, hurt and hapless in front of the smoldering hot Joel.

"You don't got it, you're bleedin' all over the fuckin' potatoes."

Oh, fuck.

You look down into the sink only to find you'd completely missed the fact that, yep, there had definitely been a colander full of Yukon Golds in there.

Well, so much for the potato salad.

"It's not even that bad," you snap, shutting the tap off and grabbing the nearest rag off the counter to wrap it around your hand.

"Would ya just let me see?" Joel presses, his fingers grazing your arms to try to hold you still while you turn away from him towards the pantry.

"No - it's - it's - fuck! "

You bump your injured hand into the kitchen island on your way to the pantry, kind of putting a damper on your attempts to prove that you're not in any pain.

"Stop movin' - " Joel tries to follow you as you make it to the cupboard, reaching out in vain as you strain with one hand towards the top shelf, trying desperately to find what you're looking for, to demonstrate how much you don't need his help.

"There's a first aid kit right here..." you murmur to yourself.

"Hey, kid, stop, will ya?”

His voice is firm now, and so are his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. You protectively clutch your cut hand to your chest, still wrapped tightly in the rag.

Joel holds you there, while you look back at him indignantly.

"Would y’just sit down and let me fix it?”

Your nostrils flare and you consider arguing it further, but the pain is really starting to settle in now and it’s feeling more and more futile to keep fighting with Joel, especially when he’s this close to you, gripping your arms with such…paternal authority.

"Fine,” you concede. “Okay."

Joel nods approvingly.

"Now where's the first aid kit?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

You cock your head towards the top shelf of the pantry, where you'd been fruitlessly rummaging just a moment ago. Joel's gaze follows your eye line and then he guides you down into one of the kitchen chairs, turning back to the pantry to fish out the white box tucked behind the sewing kit, a leftover from your mom.

"Right..." he hums to himself as he sets the plastic box with the big red "+" on the table and begins sifting through it. You watch as he digs around its contents, competently setting out some band-aids, a few cotton pads, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a tube of Neosporin and a roll of gauze. He’s clearly done this before.

“Let me see,” he says softly then, kneeling down to grip your arm in one of his big hands while your eyes widen at his touch. Joel carefully unfurls the rag, now soaked in your blood, to reveal the grisly cut beneath.

"Shit,” Joel curses quietly. “It’s still bleedin'..."

He rises with a low grunt, pushing off you with an absent hand on your thigh. Your skin sears where he touches. Back on his feet, Joel glances awkwardly around your dad’s little kitchen.

“Cloth? Clean cloth?” he clarifies.

"Under the sink," you inform him while bright red blood begins to pool in your palm again. You bite your lip to stop from crying because it really does fucking hurt and all that blood has got to be cause for concern. But crying's the last thing you need to be doing right now.

Joel finds what he’s looking for and returns to situate himself on his knees in front of you again. He wraps the fresh rag around your wound just as the blood’s about to drip down onto the linoleum. Joel encases your bleeding palm in his two big hands as he compresses the cloth into your skin.

"We'll just hold that there for a minute,” he mutters, fixing his eyes on yours as he squeezes your hand between his.

You work to control your breathing, but it’s not because of the cut, more the way his massive palms engulf your entire hand, sending your imagination running wild as you consider how big they’d look other places…over your ass, maybe…across your stomach…on your tits…

"Does it hurt?" Joel interrupts your fantasizing, and you shake your head slightly as you come back to reality.

"No," you lie.

He rolls his eyes.

"Just gonna check it again..."

You visibly wince when he unravels the cloth, grimacing as the fabric drags over your open wound.

"Might wanna work on your acting there, superstar,” Joel smirks.

“Ew, shut up, only Tommy calls me that,” you reply grumpily as Joel assesses your palm, turning your hand over in his to see the extent of the damage.

"It's pretty deep, kid. Stopped bleedin' at least."

"It's nothing."

Joel scoffs then, shaking his head in disbelief and you think he almost seems a little angry. Think it’s kind of a sexy look on him.

“Christ, you're proud, huh?” he gripes, letting your hand go. “You can just say it hurts, you know."

You sigh and finally let the truth slip, agony coating your voice as you give in.

“Fine, okay - fuck - it hurts.”

“Was’at so hard?” he smirks, eyebrows cocking. Asshole. Stupid, hot, perfect asshole.

You roll your eyes dramatically. How’s that’s for acting, Miller?

But Joel's not paying attention - now he gets to work. You watch as, with tender care, he clutches your wrist to hold your hand steady, starting first by cleaning the wound with a cotton pad he soaks in rubbing alcohol.

While he tends to your wound, your mind wanders, head fuzzy from blood loss and Joel’s meticulous touch. He’s so precise with it, his thick fingers managing the delicate task with ease. You wonder what else his fingers are precise with, your eyes glazing over as that thought invades your brain and -

Oh, god. Fuck. Fuck. You want him. You want him so much it’s making you squirm in your chair, Joel reminding you to, “Sit still” while he presses the gauze into your skin. But the pain mingled with that commanding edge in his voice only makes you want him more - and you didn’t even know that was a thing for you.

Joel seems blissfully unaware of your spiralling, cooing gentle, “Shhh, it’s okay”s at you when you flinch at the sting of the alcohol, a soft, sweet sound that only makes things worse, goosebumps rising on your skin as his quiet hum vibrates through you. Finally, he applies a thin layer of the Neosporin over the cut, dabbing it over your skin with his calloused fingers.

"So...theatre college. How’s it goin’?” he says as he applies a bandage over the wound.

“Um...yeah, you know, it’s going,” you reply, still feeling very much dazed and distant, Joel still very much on his knees in front of you in an extremely distracting way.

"Surprised you didn't just head straight out to California," he murmurs, wrapping more gauze over your bandaged palm for good measure.

It's an interesting idea, and one you'd considered. At the time, you'd still been dreaming of your Barbie-dream-life with Joel. Staying at home meant it might still happen. Now, of course, you can’t wait to get out.

"Well, UT has a great program," you shrug simply.

"Maybe one day, though, right?" Joel grins up at you and you smile back.

"Maybe," you nod.

"All done," he declares then.

You're not expecting it and you don't know why he does it (maybe some kind of fatherly instinct), but as Joel finishes wrapping the gauze around your hand, he tentatively leans in to plant a quick kiss to the bandage and shit, fuck.

Electricity flows from the place his lips touch and all of a sudden you think you see it in him too, that attraction, that want. His brown eyes peak up at you when his lips make contact with your covered skin and he must know what he's doing, there's no fucking way he would just do that if he wasn't trying to drive you crazy -

"What happened in here?"

Your dad, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway, easily cutting through the tension as he walks in on your little moment. Your head snaps up to see him taking in the scene, bloody potatoes in the sink and the first aid kit torn open on the table. Joel gives you your hand back and stands hastily, taking several steps away from you as he does.

"Just had a little accident - uh, it's alright now," Joel grumbles, voice thick, and then he's ducking out of the room in a rush, beerless. You and your father stare at each other, both dumbfounded but...for different reasons.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Christ, you're proud, huh?" Joel grunts as he presses you against the kitchen island, those big hands of his trailing up your sides and landing over your naked breasts. "F'you don't swallow that pride, darlin', I'm gonna make you swallow it."

He punctuates the tantalizing threat with a hard squeeze of your nipples, and you groan as his mouth collides with yours, tongue licking into your mouth feverishly as he grinds his hips into you.

"Make me, Joel," you beg, reaching between your bodies to stroke his cock, as you tear your mouth from his and nip at his strong jaw, eliciting a delicious groan from him that reverberates into the hollow of your neck.

Joel wastes no time, hoisting you up onto the island so your legs wrap around his waist, his cock sliding inside you with ease, as if you were made to take him. You cling to him with your hands behind his neck as he rocks his hips into you, making you whine and keen and moan with each thrust of his length into your wet heat.

"You're gonna let me take care of you from now on, you got that, sweetheart?" he whispers raggedly in your ear as he fucks you, his strong arms braced over your thighs and holding you steady as he pounds into you with all the force and intensity you'd always imagined he'd use.

"Yes, sir…” you promise him, and Joel growls at the word as it slips from your mouth, the memory of his voice from earlier seeping into your reverie -

Shhh, it's okay...Sit still...Stop movin'....

The echoes of his drawl begin to fade as the vision sinks to black and...shit. All too soon it hits you as you wake with a stir.

It's not real. Just a dream. The party ended hours ago. You’re alone in bed after dark.

Also…sir? What the fuck? Your subconscious clearly has some interesting ideas it wants to make known to you so that’s…cool. He just had to get all commanding and bossy earlier. Fucker.

Tragically, the wet spot in your sleep shorts definitely is real. You sigh, letting your measly fingers finish what your dream-Joel had started. You come quietly in the confines of your bedroom, the image of Joel on his knees in front of you the last thing you see before sleep takes you again.

Well - you're off the deep end now.

One way or another, you've got to get your hands on Joel fucking Miller.

I'm in a state, I'm in a state Nothing can touch us, my love I'm in a state, I'm in a state Nothing can touch us, my love

in my hometown taglist <3

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joelscruff · 10 months

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wait (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

first and foremost! this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place after "words". this won't really make sense if you haven't read that one! it's so crazy to me how this started out as a silly little smutty drabble and somehow became this. this one's kind of heavy (read the warnings!!) but i promise that things won't stay this angsty forever. at its root this story is supposed to be smutty and fun and i promise there will be more of that in the future. i hope you enjoy it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: it's been a month since your boyfriend discovered your relationship with his father and a month since you've seen joel. it's starting to take its toll. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, sexting, comeplay, angst, allusions to past trauma, shitty family dynamics (addiction & verbal abuse), panic attacks word count: 3.2k

i miss you

it's the only thing you've thought about texting him for about a month, a text you always type out and then erase a few moments later. it's something you swore to yourself that you wouldn't do no matter how lonely you got. he'd said he needed time, and you want to give it to him. and yet here you are, leaning against the window of your bus home from community college with tears in your eyes, phone in hand, wanting nothing more than to see him. selfish.

it's been one of the loneliest periods of your life. you've known loneliness, felt it throughout most of your childhood, through your adolescence, it's nothing new. but with joel you'd finally begun to feel whole again, like you actually mattered to someone. he looked forward to seeing you, to holding you, being with you. you'd never felt so desired and loved and protected in your whole life.

now you're back to having nothing, no one. it's a harsh reality you're forcing yourself to accept. you still haven't heard anything from your boyfriend - now ex, of course, though there was never any official breakup - and even that's a punch to the gut, an added depth to a loss that you caused.

he's hurting, i hurt him, joel's words repeat in your head. it breaks your heart that he's feeling so guilty, that he feels that he caused this entire thing when it's really your fault. if you weren't such a mess of a person, such a broken human being, the whole thing wouldn't have even happened to begin with. what kind of person sleeps with their boyfriend's father? starts a relationship with him? calls him daddy?

you know you caused this and yet you can't help but miss him so much. it's like he's ingrained himself into your bones somehow, his touch tattooed into your skin. he's all you think about, dream about. you miss being in his embrace, being held by him, whispering daddy in his ear and feeling understood, not judged. you miss his gentle kisses to your nose, the safety of his lap, his arms around your trembling form while he fucked you, took you, made you his.

you stare at the unsent text message and inevitably find yourself scrolling back up to a previous conversation from a few months back, short and simple. texting was never a frequent medium for the two of you, more-so used for you to send him dirty pictures every so often to tease him a bit. you briefly look at the picture, a close-up shot of your bare pussy with some of his come leaking out; absolutely filthy.

still have u inside me daddy

oh baby, so messy. what am I gonna do with you?

you smile at the silliness of it all, the filthiness, but it quickly fades when you remember the reality of the situation again, the fact that your boyfriend had read joel's messages, had definitely seen these texts in particular. he'd called joel a sick man. you don't agree, but you can understand why; if you'd seen a text interaction like this between your own father and a girl half his age... you'd probably have a similar reaction - though the concept of your father showing a woman any affection in the first place is alien in itself.

your bus pulls up to the stop near your house and you get off, slipping your phone back into your pocket and hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you go. it's only a short walk to your house, no more than three minutes, though you usually try to make it a bit longer to delay the inevitable disaster of your home life.

you take it one step at a time, slowly walking down the darkening street with fresh tears in your eyes. god, you're so lonely. you don't want to go home, don't want to be accosted by your alcoholic father and avoidant mother, your asshole brother who never gives you a break. it's so damn depressing in that house; when you'd first gotten together with your boyfriend you'd been so relieved to finally have somewhere else to go that wasn't school or home, another reason you'd stayed with him for so long despite the relationship being doomed. you should have known it couldn't last.

you'd told joel everything. it's hard to believe sometimes that the connection you shared was strong enough for you to trust him with some of your darkest secrets, the worst things from your past. he knows all about your family, all about what you've been through, had listened to you quietly and earnestly as you cried into his shoulder about the hand life had dealt you. he'd rubbed your back, kissed your forehead, whispered it's okay, and i'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart. and he did. he did take care of you. he'd done everything right and somehow you still managed to fuck it up.

the lights are on in the house when you arrive at the front gate, though the car is missing from the driveway; this only means that your mother is out late tonight, probably staying with a friend or a lover or whoever she turns to when shit gets bad. you can't blame her - you'd done the exact same thing when you'd actually had somewhere to go - but part of you still aches for that little girl inside you that needs her, wishes she was inside waiting for you, though it's not like she'd do much to help.

your father is definitely home, probably your brother as well. you stand at the gate, gripping the strap of your backpack and deliberating even bothering to go inside. you know you'll be accosted at the front door by either a drunken tirade or bitter argument. it's a no-win situation no matter how you look at it. your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, grateful for one last brief distraction.

i miss you too, angel. so much.

your eyes go wide, heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at the words.

"fuck," you breathe, "fuck, fuck fuck," you quickly scroll up to confirm your fears - the i miss you text, the one you always erase, the one you make sure to never send - you'd somehow sent it this time, entirely by mistake.

tears are stinging your eyes as you turn on the spot and start walking back and forth in front of your house, running your hand through your hair in disbelief while you stare at joel's text. you fucking idiot. what the fuck have you done? what happened to giving him space? you stupid fucking bitch. you absolute loser. you're suddenly berating yourself the exact same way you know your father and brother will berate you if you go in the house now. you can already picture it - them seeing your tear stained cheeks, the puffiness of your eyes, the words they'll throw at you to hurt you even more, make you feel small.

fucking bitch. fucking loser. fucking idiot.

your breathing is becoming more and more erratic the longer you pace. you can't go in now, not after this, not after seeing that he misses you too and being so fucking close yet so far away. all you can suddenly think about is all those wasted moments at his house, spending so much time with your asshole boyfriend when you could have been with joel, been loved instead of tossed aside like garbage.

god, if you could only hear his voice. if you could just talk to him for one minute before you have to go into this godforsaken hellhole.

before you even fully understand what you're doing, you're hitting the call button and bringing the phone up to your ear.

he answers on the first ring.

"h-"

"i can't do this anymore," you gasp out through a sob, not even bothering to let him say anything, "joel, i can't do it, i miss you so fucking much it hurts."

"babygirl," he breathes, voice rough and deep and gorgeous and familiar, sweet like honey in your ear, "where are you? are you okay?"

and that's enough to break you.

you feel the tears begin to stream down your face, hot and unrelenting. you shake your head even though he can't see you, throat bobbing through repetitive gasps, "no, i'm not okay," you blubber, "da- fuck, joel, i- i can't do this, i can't be by myself anymore. i'm - " you don't even know where this is coming from, voice muddled, "i'm so lonely. i can't do it anymore, i can't. please, i can't."

he makes a devastating sound at your words, something between a sob and a gasp, "where are you?" he repeats, voice full of concern, "where are you, baby? i'm gonna come get you."

"the bus stop by my house," you manage to tell him through your tears, reaching the little bench and situating yourself on it without an ounce of hesitation, "i was- i was gonna go home but," another sob rips through your throat, "but they're home and i- i can't- i can't take it anymore, joel. i don't wanna be there anymore, i can't be there."

"you stay where you are, you hear me?" you can hear movement on the other line, the rattle of keys, footsteps, "don't go home, babygirl, i'm comin'. i'll be there in ten minutes."

"okay," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, "okay."

"deep breaths, baby, remember?" and you do remember; he'd taught you some exercises to help in situations like this, when you feel like the world is falling apart around you and you're just getting smaller and smaller, disappearing into nothingness. he'd held your hands while you'd sat in his lap, eyes closed as you both matched each other's breathing, melted into one another. "in and out, babygirl, that's it. real slow, count for me."

"i r-remember," you manage to hiccup, squeezing your chest with your other hand and trying to ground yourself.

the wait is excruciating, no matter how short, and no matter the fact that joel is on the other end trying to calm you. you sit on the bench with a hand on your heart and the other on your stomach, listening to joel count to five over and over, phone upturned on your thigh.

"big breath in. one...two...three...four...five," he says through the muffled sounds of traffic and wind, "big breath out. one...two...three...four...five." over and over and over again, "i'm turnin' the corner, baby, i'm almost there," he says after about ten minutes of this, "you see me, honey?"

you look up to find his headlights, getting brighter and brighter as they approach. you shakily sit up from the bench, breath coming out much less erratic now, "y-yes," you whisper.

seconds later the car is pulling up in front of you and he's jumping out, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he dashes around it. it's been so long since you've seen him that it's jarring to suddenly have him in front of you, sprinting toward your small and shaking form with his jacket undone, shoes mismatched, glasses askew. you catch a glimpse of his expression, concerned and upset - are those tears? - before he scoops you up into his arms and pulls you in close to him.

"i'm here," he tells you, voice rumbling through his chest against your cheek, solid and warm, "i'm here now, babygirl, you're okay. you're okay."

and somehow you are.

"i'm sorry," is all you can say to him as he drives you to his house, hand holding yours tightly the whole way, "i'm such an idiot, i'm so sorry."

"stop saying that," he repeats for maybe the fourth time, shaking his head and squeezing your hand even more firmly, "you're not an idiot and you have nothing to be sorry about."

you really are okay now, breaths calm and tears not even flowing anymore. instead the guilt and shame and humiliation have taken over, sinking into your skin as you lean back in the passenger seat with your hood pulled up, hiding your face from him.

"i was giving you space," you mutter, "i didn't even mean to text you, it was an accident. i was being stupid, as usual."

"stop it," he says again, "stop being mean to yourself."

you close your eyes and face away from him, "easier said than done."

the two of you drive in silence for a few moments, that is until he asks, "have you eaten?" and you say, "no."

he buys you mcdonalds and doesn't let go of your hand.

the house hasn't changed. you hadn't really expected it to; it's not like it's been that long since you were last here. you don't bother even sneaking a peek at your ex boyfriend's bedroom as joel leads you upstairs, curiosity nonexistent.

you're not sure why you expect him to take you into his office, maybe sit on the couch with you and talk. to your surprise he leads you straight past the door, down the hallway to what you can only assume is his bedroom - a place you've never been in all your months of being with him.

"sit down," he tells you softly as he opens the door, pulling you slowly inside and nodding toward the queen sized bed, "i'll get you something to wear."

"okay," you breathe, barely looking at him as you examine the room in front of you, large but cozy, cool colors but a warm atmosphere, framed music posters and blueprints covering the walls - exactly what you'd expect from someone like joel. you shuffle forward and drop your bag at the end of his bed, sitting on the edge of it while he goes to his dresser.

you end up in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of his underwear, loving the feeling of being his again, even if neither of you have actually talked about what exactly this means for your relationship. he helps you change, tugging off your worn-out jeans and the same shirt you've worn for three days in a row, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls off your panties and replaces them with his boxers. it's not sexual, but part of you still longs to pull him on top of you, just feel his weight, smell his cologne.

he pulls back the duvet and helps you climb inside onto your stomach, rubbing your arms and shoulders and releasing some of the tension you've been feeling for the past month. you feel him press another kiss to the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way and stroking it gently, giving you all the care and attention you've been aching for. his hands are so big, so comforting and safe, touching you everywhere without any expectations or underlying motive.

"i missed you, daddy," you whisper against his pillow, not sure if he can even hear you, even more unsure whether it's okay to use that word anymore.

he doesn't reply right away, still kneading his thumbs into the base of your back and massaging you gently. you hear him inhale and exhale deeply a few times, like he's biding time while he figures out what to say.

"sorry," you wince, "joel."

he releases you then, helps you turn over so you're on your back and peering up at him with uncertainty. he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down to thumb your cheek, eyes sad and tired.

"i wanna be that for you, sweetheart," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "i do. i want it more than you even realize," he takes a breath, biting down on his lip briefly, "i just... i need you to tell me somethin'. be honest with me now."

your heart skips a beat, "what?"

"when you said you loved me..." his voice breaks a bit and you ache to reach for him, cup his cheek and hold him close, "was it because of what we've been doin'?" he seems to reassess his words, shaking his head slightly, "i mean, did it...did you actually mean it? or was it... was it just part of the game?"

you stare at him for a few seconds, lips parting and eyes going slightly wide. without a second thought you do exactly what you'd just been thinking about, reaching up to place your hand against his face, feeling his scruff beneath your palm. he leans in and takes a breath, peering into your eyes with a yearning you can't describe, can only feel.

you shake your head slowly, "joel," you whisper, "it's never been a game."

his eyes close, stuttering out another breath when your thumb strokes his cheek soothingly. unable to hold back anymore, you lean up to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, sweet and tender and familiar. his hand finds the back of your head, pulls you closer, claims you again.

he fucks you slow.

it's never been like this, never has he fucked you the way he fucks you now. you barely speak, just moan and whimper and sigh and melt into each other the way you've never truly been able to, not without prying ears and a time limit hanging over your heads. your hands tangle in his hair while he hits that deep spot inside you, holds you close, buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, pounds into you relentlessly like you'll both come apart at the seams if he lets go.

you're biting it back, trying not to say it as much as you desperately want to, still unsure if this is really want he wants. just tell me what to do and i'll do it. i don't care, i'm yours. he looks into your eyes and you can't help but start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the safety. he thumbs your tears and kisses them away.

"say it," he murmurs to you as you both near your inevitable release, the tension building and building as he grabs your face with both hands and fucks you with purpose, with passion, "say it, babygirl, tell me."

you shake your head, suddenly self conscious, suddenly afraid. the feelings from earlier tonight rise back in your chest, making a home in the back of your throat as a sob threatens to rip through it.

"it's okay," he whispers, voice trembling with the speed of his thrusts, "it's okay, honey, i wanna hear you say it," he furrows his brow and releases a groan, so close to the edge, "please, baby, say it. need you to say it."

you pull him close, grip his back, press your lips to his ear, "daddy."

he groans, dark and rough, "that's it," he murmurs, "that's it baby, i'm your daddy. that's right." he pulls back to look at you, eyes meeting yours in a passionate gaze that lasts forever, "say it again."

"daddy," you whine, unable to unlock your eyes from his, lip trembling as you submit entirely to him, "feels so good, daddy."

there's something in his expression you can't place, something in his words that reverberates in your brain like a pinball. say it again... you realize it means more than you'd initially thought. he's not just asking you to say one word - he's asking for three.

"i love you," you cry out just as he presses his thumb to your clit, pushes you over the edge, "i love you."

he comes just as you do, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as your fingers scramble for purchase at his back, holding him impossibly close to the point where his entire body weight is on top of you, but you don't care. all you can feel is the way his heart beats against your chest, the way his gasps match yours, finding the same rhythm.

you lay there still for what feels like eternity, joel laying on top of you with his cock still deep inside and his forehead pressed against your shoulder. your tears have stopped but you feel the dampness of his own on your skin, hear the gasp he lets out as he sets his emotions free.

"i love you too," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and quick, voice wrecked, "god, i love you so much."

for the first time, you stay the night.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: bd!joel

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..." Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg series #coryo snow

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