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wannaeatramyeon · 3 days

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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty.

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :)

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class."

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated.

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers.

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more.

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring.

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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thaatdigitaldiary · 1 day

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for the first time

hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader

for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)

fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like

enjoy!🙂‍↕️

disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽

paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.

"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.

"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.

"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.

"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."

"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.

"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.

"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.

"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.

two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.

you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.

paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.

life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.

the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.

with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.

"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.

"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.

her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.

after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.

that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"

it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?

you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.

the real question was, what really was good enough for me?

paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.

sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.

"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.

"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.

you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.

"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."

"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"

an accident?

"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.

things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.

"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."

you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?

"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.

"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.

paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.

the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.

"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"

read 12:35pm

she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.

you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.

but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?

paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.

so why did she kiss her?

she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.

she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.

a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.

prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.

a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.

you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.

the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.

she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.

you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.

"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.

"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.

"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.

"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"

"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.

paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”

"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."

you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."

your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.

she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.

"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.

"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.

"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.

"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.

"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.

"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.

she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,

"i love you y/n."

"i love you too paige."

and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.

HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you

tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter

🫶🏽🫶🏽

the collage that “would’ve been posted”

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige x reader #paige bueckers x reader #wlw fiction #wlw blog #lgbtq #ke’s blog🩶

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 2 days

Text

Highway Heat

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.

A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating

Masterlist

You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.

It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.

So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.

After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.

You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.

Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.

It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.

He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”

He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”

He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.

For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””

You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”

He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”

You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”

He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.

“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”

You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”

He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”

You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate

“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.

You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.

Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.

You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.

“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”

You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”

He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”

The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”

Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”

You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.

“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.

Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”

Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?”

You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head—and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.

The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.

“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”

“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”

“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”

He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.

You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.

So you bite.

“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.

A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”

“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”

His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.

“Little bit of attention.”

He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”

You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.

“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.

“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.

You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”

He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”

Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.

“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”

You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.

Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.

“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.

His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”

You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.

“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.

“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”

Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.

Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.

“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.

“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.

His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.

You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.

So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.

His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”

He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.

He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”

He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.

“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.

“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.

“Please what?”

You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”

Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.

Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”

“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”

You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.

“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.

“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.

He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”

You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”

His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”

Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”

The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.

You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.

“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.

“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”

In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.

His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.

Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”

Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”

“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.

“Please daddy, let me come”

“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”

The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”

You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.

“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.

His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”

You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.

“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”

You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.

Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.

You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.

You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.

His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”

You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.

You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.

His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.

“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.

You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.

“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”

As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.

You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.

Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."

He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.

#joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #trucker!joel #joel smut #joel miller smut #joel x reader smut

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theninthdoor · 2 days

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⭒˚｡⋆ 🍓 pac || inside your crush's mind ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ 🐞

𖦹 think of your crush, take 3 deep breaths and pick one of the piles below! lets see what is/was going through your person’s mind & if you have or ever had a chance with them. 𖦹 take only what resonates. if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply to the person/situation you’re thinking of, it’s OK to pick another one. I'm also leaving some extra messages and keywords at the end of each reading. those may work as confirmation for some people, but if they don't mean anything to you, that doesn't mean that that's not your pile. what you should really take into account is the description I make of the person (your crush) in each pile, and that's how you will know if you have chosen the right or wrong one. please use your discernment. 𖦹 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, just because your person thinks this or that, ok? 𖦹 enjoy, my lovelies!

Pile 1 || ☎️ cards: four of pentacles rx, death rx, knight of pentacles rx, judgement rx, the chariot

not you guys landing on the player's pile… omg So, yeah- Did you ever had a chance? For sure. Anyone would have a chance with this person, I feel like. This is someone who's either constantly in love or just can't stand being alone for too long. Maybe it's just their personality - being extroverted, a connection-seeker, always open to new relationships and whatever experiences come with it -, or perhaps they are simply that charming and the options never end for them. This does feel like someone who's very much a feeler, but maybe not the wisest or yet the most mature in general (or even the most emotionally available!!). For the most part, their relationships feel quite short lived, and mostly based on physical attraction. They may have had one or two longer ones, still (for some people in specific, it feels like your crush may have been in longer-term relationship that was very talked about and known about, and they may still be heavily associated with this ex of theirs). Now, when it comes to their thoughts and feelings towards you: I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't see them having cared or caring too much... They see you quite plainly (if they know you at all); you're just a friend, coworker or acquaintance. Yet, as I said, I feel like you'd definitely still be able to have a chance with them - all you would have to do is take that step towards them and get yourself noticed. Be confident about it! I think that's what attracts them the most to someone, actually: boldness. Flirt a little with them, and see where it leads you… It might not result in the most serious, stable or long lasting relationship of all time, but maybe you'll still get to have a good time together.

⋆ extra messages:

This totally feels straight out of a 2000s coming of age movie, or some rom-com set in high school, with your crush being the popular guy/girl everyone knows and is attracted to lol. Just thought I should add that in.

Milena. Mimi. Mario. Jet-black hair. Affluent neighbourhoods. Family business. Taking acting classes. Ankles/ankle bracelets. Big family event or gathering coming up soon (like a birthday, a wedding, some special holiday…). Talking about or someone's been worrying about frown lines recently. Jennifer. Janet. J surnames. Wearing a lot of orange lately, or having just bought a new orange clothing item. Ash. Ashley.

⋆ channeled song: The Bellamy Brothers - Let Your Love Flow

Pile 2 || 💄 cards: page of wands rx, ten of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles rx, the hermit, seven of wands

So, my sweet pile 2, here we have someone who has, for sure, noticed you before! Seven of Wands + The Hermit at the bottom of the deck = this person would do anything to get to know you a little better and/or to spend more time with you. There's something about the way you are or carry yourself that makes you stand out from other people - or perhaps you're just your crush's type and that's why their eyes are on you... I don't get a whole lot of communication or movement coming from them, so even if they talk to you, it doesn't feel direct; they're not letting you know how they feel; they're not openly flirting with you. This person actually feels very much like a Virgo or Capricorn Moon; logical, careful, slow moving. Once you get them to come of their shell and finally they feel ready to say something, though, you can definitely expect them to be very direct about it. At first they study you, consider the potential of this connection, and then they decide if they should go for it or not. If they do come towards you then, they won't waste any time, again. They're saying, you know… "Hey, let's go out one of these days. I'd like to spend some time with you." or "I really like your vibe. Would you care to go on a date with me, sometime?". It's quite dry and lame actually lol. They're still not flirting, exactly. They're just putting it out there that they're interested and want to explore this connection - again, very direct and logical about the whole thing. (And their flirting skills may actually suck, btw…) In the meantime, they may get closer to you by asking you about your interests, by sitting nearby in class or at lunch, watching your ig stories or something like that. It's the small things, and they're gonna take their sweet time with this. It's not something they are losing their sleep over; it's a case they are studying.

⋆ extra messages:

Is anyone here working or studying in a scientific field? Science feels very relevant. Ron, Rob, R names. Lab coats. Law; rules and regulations. College towns. Planning (or planning on attending) a big Halloween party - and putting a lot of thought into this as of late. Wisconsin. Big 3 Libra placements. Glasgow. Glass working/art. Gallows. Gallows humour. G surnames.

⋆ channeled song: John Legend - All of Me

Pile 3 || 🎧 cards: the chariot, four of swords rx, the magician, ten of swords, queen of wands, two of wands

Listen!!- Pile 3, please go for it!! Even if this doesn't last too long, I think there's great potential here for an absolutely amazing relationship/fling! The chemistry here is just insane… I don't know if it's this person themselves, or if it's actually the result of you two coming together, but I'm feeling HOT. I'm blushing. I'm excited. There's just so much passion here! I think this person is a smooth talker; not necessarily the most extroverted or talkative, but when they do talk to you, you can't help it but feel absolutely charmed. They are good-looking, smart, polite. I get a very venusian vibe coming them. They may put a lot of effort into how they look, not by vanity but because they genuinely like to take care of themselves + find it unmannerly to go out looking like a mess.

As for what's on their mind, my dear pile 3, I have good news for you! They have noticed you and thought about you before, and everything's very positive. They find you attractive, interesting, and a great catch, really. It also seems like they may have heard quite a bit about you (coming from others), and whatever was said gave them a very good impression on you, so even if you're not that well acquainted, they hold you in high regard already. However, with this 2oW, I feel like they may have other options, and if you don't make it clear that you want to explore a relationship with them, the opportunity might just pass you by. I actually don't see them making that move themselves, I'm sorry… There are other things/people holding their attention at the moment and for the foreseeable future. Still, The Strength rx + Queen of Cups at the bottom of the deck = the potential is here, and so is the chemistry I was talking about. Once you get this started, there's no stopping it! You'll be pulled in and taken on the most amazing ride.

⋆ extra messages:

E names. Emily. Emmett. Emerson. Soccer/football. Lia/Leah. India. Indya. I + IY/YI names. 2016 being a significant year - moving, meeting, Instagram following. June. Born on the 6th of the month. History. Brown hair and green eyes. Hazel eyes. Hazelnut. German family or travelling to Germany. Studying architecture or building architectural models. Learning french.

⋆ channeled song: Rihanna - Love On The Brain

Pile 4 || ♣️ cards: justice rx, page of cups rx, five of cups, page of pentacles rx, eight of pentacles

There's something very sad about this person and this pile. Your crush may have been or may be going through a difficult period, yet I feel like they've been doing their best to hide it. They laugh a lot, smile all day, joke around, but on the inside they are going through something that has been bringing them down. I think they feel lost, confused, alone. Maybe it's a family matter (like a divorce or some kind of separation), or perhaps it's just that, for some reason, they are now being forced to leave their home, friends and/or family, and it just hasn't been easy to them to accept and deal with that. There's a loss of stability here, and a loss of community. It could've happened already, too, by the way - they may already be in separation from their loved ones or away from the place they were used to calling home. On a positive note, I feel like this is temporary and they'll recover soon. It's just a low point for them. Also, they may be dealing with some concerns regarding their future and where to go next (professionally, academically, etc.), and that only adds to it all. As for the two of you, my dear pile 3, it seems like right now just isn't the right moment for anything to happen here. You can offer them friendship, some comfort, advice, support, but that's about it, I believe. This person has a lot to figure out at the moment, on their own, and whatever they have to offer you doesn't seem to be exactly what you need or want, deep down. It would lead to heartbreak, most likely. Still, this feels so sweet and so warm. So, maybe, you should give it some time and then give it a try… Because, honestly, I do think this person has some good feelings for you (or could grow some good feelings for you, if you aren't yet acquainted). They may not know what those are exactly, but I still think something really good could bloom from this.

⋆ extra messages:

A names. Adam. Adrienne. Greenland. Finland. Art class. Discussing or studying politics. Georgia. G names. Galicia. Meeting or seeing their father/father figure for the 1st time, or their father being mentioned in conversation a lot. Surgery. Torn ankle or some other leg/foot injury. Mockingbird. Buzzcut. Red nail polish.

⋆ channeled song: Billie Eilish - Bored

deck used || Tarot of the New Vision

(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

#pac tarot #tarot love reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card tarot reading #love pick a card #tarot services #daily tarot #tarot readings #love tarot free #pac

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mermaidsirennikita · 19 hours

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I gotta say this is also very unsuprising casting when you think about it. Like as soon as the shock had worn off I was like...yeah of course she cast them.

Oh yeah, it does make sense because Emerald isn't about what's good for the project, Emerald is about what makes Emerald happy. Which is why I fundamentally can't get into her creatively.

Because of course, any creative has their aesthetic, their sensibility, their work. And I respect that, as a creative.

But you also have to kill your darlings. And we think of that in the writing sense most often—cut that sentence, that scene, that chapter if it doesn't truly serve the work. Scrap the whole thing and start over if it's truly not what it should be.

I'm a STRONG believer in that, to be fair. Brutal. Maybe too much so? Lol. Or I'd have a book out by now.

But anyway, it applies to every type of creative work, imo. You don't cast someone because YOU like them, particularly in an adaptation of a work as iconic as Wuthering Heights. You cast them because they are right for the role.

Heathcliff and Cathy, especially Heathcliff, are two of the most groundbreaking and influential characters in literature of the past 3 centuries. Heathcliff's lack of proximity (for his era) to whiteness is particularly central to the role, and I don't know anyone who seriously takes this work apart and isn't like... actively racist... who interprets Heathcliff as white. It's so crucial to his character that he is "other" in his society.

It's just TRULY a shame to me that she not only cast someone as subpar as Elordi, but someone so, so white. Like, I wouldn't want a white actor I love to play Heathcliff. And this is a fabulous role for a man of color, too.

The last adaptation did cast a man of color, but it was frankly not a very high profile project and not well done.

(I also think it would be compelling to cast a man of Roma descent OR a man of Asian, specifically South Asian descent because the text literally uses a contemporary term for Indian men to describe him... Though Nelly also speculates that he has Chinese heritage, and there are definitely some implications that he could be descended from presumably African enslaved people. The latter I could definitely see being an interpretation when you factor in the speculation that he's Mr. Earnshaw's illegitimate child. I think there's always this idea that "catch-all" terms were probably being used to describe Heathcliff's appearance, but I've thought for a while that I would personally most love to see a Roma actor or a South Asian actor play him.

But like. Literally any other than a white guy.)

This will be much more high profile, with way more attention, and it just really sucks that Emerald decided to use it to push one of her faves. It tells me that she has very little respect for the text. On what planet would anyone, even in the 1800s, look at Jacob Elordi and think that he was anything other than a white guy.

And again, I think Margot is way too old to play Cathy, and honestly doesn't read in any way as Cathy to me. I say that as someone who, again, considers her a very strong actress when she's in her element. I just. Ugh.

#wuthering heights #BLECH.

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 12 hours

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"floral blessings" ; a braindump from yours truly because this card is absofuckinglutely my most favorite xavier card on the face of the planet and i am. going. to talk about it <3

like with all my 5* card "analyses" (but also more like a wordvomit really 😭) this will contain spoilers for: (a) this card itself, (b) the lightseeker myth, (c) the lumiere myth, (d) anecdotes, main story, and world underneath !

[ this is also very long............ you have been warned 🤲 ]

first of all...... MY GOD...... FHSNNFBSJFJSJFK YELLING SCREAMING THROWING UP IM NEVER GETTING OVER THE KINDLED CARD FOR THIS BECAUSE. BECAUSE HELLOOOO??? HELLOOOO???

anyway..................

timeline-wise, the card pretty much implies a very solid relationship between the two, so while i don't know where i'd place it between 21 days and no restraint, it's definitely still after 21 days! but with that said, rather than more focus on their individual development like in no restraint, this one seems to focus more on their relationship as a whole, i think?

overall this braindump won't be as organized as what i wrote for no restraint (i think...) because my brain is still so completely absolutely mush over this card, but i needed to write SOMETHING or i'd explode to smithereens 😭 so nevertheless...!!!! i'll section off a couple scenes so if you want an outline, it'd be something like:

[1] general setup (an overview of parallels); [2] "reunion" (parallels and relationship development); [3] xavier's forwardness (the courtyard meetings, lessons, giving of the mask); [4] day of the festival; [5] the wish

but bear with me;;; there is SO MUCH that goes on here, and i really wish i had the patience and coherency to point out every little thing because holy shit 😭

firstly though, and i just found this really cool, but apparently the flower goddess festival is (was) an actual thing!

from what i've found (and correct me in i'm wrong) it's apparently a very ancient festival that's not widely celebrated these days, so it's not super popular or well-known, but it has many names such as: "Flower Goddess Festival (花神节 huāshén jié)" "Hundred Flowers’ Birthday (百花生日 bǎihuā shēngrì)" and "Flower Goddess’ Birthday (花神生日 huāshén shēngrì)" !!! i couldn't find much information about it though, but it seems that what was in the card such as the flower cakes and the dance really were actually part of the festival~ and i've also seen people say that xavier and mc's outfits feel to be from the tang dynasty, which a lot of people speculate is the time period that this festival originated!

BUT, MOVING ON...

i. general setup — an overview of parallels

i think honestly what's most interesting to me here is how much the overall card mirrors xavier's lightseeker myth so incredibly well. with all of xavier's cards, and how he's grown as a person and how their relationship has developed overall... so much of all of that ties to who he was as a lightseeker, to who he was as the prince of philos. in fact, it goes without saying that lumiere's myth story itself is so bound to the lightseeker myth. because, and i've said this so often and repeat myself a lot with it, lumiere is a direct reflection of the princely persona xavier has grown up with. that the reason he's always been so averse to who he becomes as lumiere is because he essentially channels prince xavier, someone who he's never thought to be truly him, someone who he's been wanting to push aside and no longer be. (i talk about it in my lumiere myth braindumps and touch on it in my no restraint braindump!)

and there's something about that reflection that transfers here, too, because there are two things that all three situations have in common: (1) a position of importance, and (2) a duty to do or fulfil something.

of the prince of philos and heir to the throne, of lumiere as the strongest hunter expected to protect the citizens, of the young master—usually the son of a wealthy family, however, in this case xavier claims he was "adopted" due to his calligraphy skills—with the task of seeing the festival through and teaching the flower goddesses calligraphy.

yet, at the same time, there's something different about the way xavier assumes this role of the "young master":

he's able to say no.

the role is lighter, likely because it's not a true role and, like mc as a flower goddess, he knows that it's temporary—but the way that their first meeting in the courtyard can remind you so much of prince xavier is almost jarring.

it's reminiscent of the very first time mc sees him with his bodyguards, in our most favorite anecdote "when shooting stars fall":

"They aren't clad in all black as one would expect, and they keep a respectable distance away from Xavier. Still, these people exude an air of oppression. Xavier, with his bag, is at the center of their group. It seems he's used to being stared at. The only difference is that rather than being his usual expressionless self, he appears slightly upset."

lt's reminiscent of that time they staged a spar, only for the royal messenger and his guards to interrupt it:

"The royal decree he brought today was related to the future of Philos ... Xavier was taken away by the Royal Messenger. Our duel ended with no clear winner, and the crowd quickly left."

and you can see how his progression grows, from prince xavier, to lumiere, to this role he plays as the young master—if as the prince of philos he had no choice but to follow the path laid out for him until he had enough of it, as lumiere he was more free to choose who he saved and when he saved them. now, as the young master, he's able to say no, sir, something urgent came up. he's able to say right now, i have something that i want to do first.

which, also interestingly, but in the more 'passive' role he played as part of the special task force, he wasn't quite one to say "no" either—though he kept a low and nonchalant profile, he's never outright refuted anyone, even if he might disagree, such as the party gathering or whatnot.

(also, slight segue, but it's notable that he's likely grown into a habit of a little selfishness due to what appears to be some kind of aversion to "serving the people". i do talk a little bit about that here—but it's the fact that (a) all he really cares about is mc, and (b) he likely still doesn't want to fall back into his patterns as prince xavier where he felt chained to think of the people more than the woman he loves. it does bring a little bit of question to his morality, but we know that mc has very much been something like his moral compass throughout.)

but, more than just the ability to say what he thinks and say no to certain things he doesn't put as a priority... he also feels light enough to goof around a little. dozing off/doodling during class, cheekily vying for mc's attention without concern about showing "favor"... something about xavier in this little persona he's taken on is an air of confidence. this was a kind of confidence you didn't see from him as the prince, as lumiere, even as the task force member. and it's not the confidence in his abilities, which has always been there—

it's the confidence in himself.

it takes a certain level of sureness to be able to do things on your own terms, or to be able to voice the fact that you want to.

i believe that throughout the parallels strewn throughout this card with how the setup is, it's this confidence that shines through and really makes things different.

because this time, xavier is different.

he's growing as a person.

ii. the "reunion"

this part of the card had me gasping out loud, i kid you not 😭😭😭 because the parallels really the fuck parallel in here 😭

"The Chen residence is far away. And I can't exactly leave as I'm one of the Flower Goddesses. So, I had to let Xavier investigate himself."

"He said he'd be back after four days. Why isn't he here ... Worried, I sit on the grass and gaze at the night sky. I'm barely in the mood to appreciate the fragrant blooms above."

first of all, the setting very much feels like the meteor shower scenario in "when shooting stars fall", but also...

"Xavier would always leave me like this. At times he joined the expedition team. Other times he was returning to the palace with the Royal Messenger. I'd always ask when he could return. He always returned within the timeframe given to me.Before the Prince entered the Forest, everyone was praying for his safety. At that time, Xavier whispered into my ear... 'Seven days.'"

"He's always lied, again and again and again and again. He said hope would follow when spring arrived. He said he'd take me to the new planet he discovered.He said he didn't want to be King but also refused to let me stand by another's side. He said he'd return when I miss him. He said when I become the Queen of Philos, he'd be my knight. The song he made up is now a reality. Yet as thousands cheer my name, he abandons me... At that moment, a spaceship soars across the sky like a shooting star, disappearing into the night. My footsteps echo in this empty room. No one will be by my side. My star has left me. And this time... he will not return home."

everyone's favorite scene from the lightseeker myth.

while at the same time...

"For some reason, seeing Xavier quietly admiring the nebula, I suddenly feel a wave of panic and instinctively reach out to grab his hand."

^ that's from "shining traces", but only one out of the many examples wherein mc feels as it xavier is someone she could lose at any second—not particularly because she doesn't trust him, but because there's a nagging feeling in her chest that they could be separated for longer than either of them would have hoped to be. after all, it's happened before already, she just doesn't know it. but whatever it was that happened in her previous lives, i've no doubt that the anxiety from back then had likely transferred over anyway.

and this is what this reunion feels like.

a sense of discomfort around his absence, that nagging "what if" he doesn't come back.

but it doesn't stop there—

because xavier does return, albeit very tired-looking (again i'd call this reminiscent of That Moment in "when shooting stars fall" where he brings her the protocore in hopes to keep her from dying).

and more than that, he explains. again, like what happened in the no restraint card, he explains. he doesn't keep things vague on purpose, or makes it seem like he's hiding something from her. he explains, and he takes the initiative to, if only to soothe her worries.

to soothe her worries.

that's an important point.

(and also on a side note:)

HDJJAJDJSJ I HAD TO AND THIS IS A DIRECT PARALLEL TO "No matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are... I will find you." BY THE WAY

anyway......!!!!!!!!! again, it doesn't stop there.

because this scene and this conversation also directly talk about home.

and this conversation means a lot more to xavier than, i think, generally one would realize. mostly because—and i remember kay making a really good point about it here—xavier has gone through a lot to get to where we see him now, and so much of change that he's had to get used to... time traveling so far only to get stuck? the different lifetimes he and the backtrackers would have had to witness this whole entire time?

like i mentioned, our brain's natural instinct is to strive for stability—you can even see it in what we know from our high school biology lessons a la homeostasis. yet, what xavier went through, what the backtrackers went through, is one hell of a shock of a change. it's the kind of change that needs processing, but isn't easy to process, and especially not quickly. and xavier had little to no one to lean on for support, to lean on to guide him through it. the result of which being that, as established even in his earlier cards... change isn't something he likes.

and as also established in world underneath, we know he just simply wants a neat little mundane life with mc.

keyword: with mc.

he doesn't really know what home is, because he has a distorted perception of it—the xavier now, in this moment, still recalls his home planet, the life he has ties to, back in philos. but as he is now, his home is in linkon. and then it comes to the conclusion that the answer is, really truly, neither.

his home is with her.

he says it, this time, explicitly.

it's his declaration that it's okay if things change, as long as he has her—as long as she remains the constant. then change is something he can deal with.

yet, even as he reveals all this to her, the conversation starts with him asking her. the conversation starts about her. and it's she who's able to give the opening back to him, by touching on things like change and belongingness.

"Even in a place this strange, you'll feel like you don't belong. No matter how long you stay ... Am I wrong? l'm sure many people feel safer in a place they're familiar with."

mc isn't a stranger to change, either—she's had a lot of it in her life, specifically the life she lives now as a hunter. the chronorift catastrophe, her family... it's not as if she doesn't know how jarring change can be, and she expresses that here—having to "start again" in a place she's unfamiliar with... it's not easy, and it's easy to feel out of place.

humans are social creatures. we were made to be social, we were made to interact with others. but from that need and that inherent desire (because no matter how small, it's always going to be there) stems the need to belong. a human emotional need to affiliate with and be accepted by members of a group.

this is something that is so prominent in mc that it is a place of solace for her to feel like she belongs somewhere. but this sense of belongingness is something that xavier has NOT experienced for a long, long time. it's only something he's been learning to experience again with her, and the people that surround them in this life that want nothing but the best for them both.

it goes back:

his home is wherever she is.

and i think that it's beautiful that, after hearing xavier's side, mc then chooses to agree with it:

"Maybe... the sense of belonging I have is like yours."

if his home is wherever she is, then her home is with him.

ALSO— while we're talking about this scene... the little banter they have with the flower cake?????? AND THE FACT THAT HE KISSES HER?!!?!?!?! JUST LIKE THAT!!!???!?!?!?!?!! (if you can't tell, i yelled about it)

AND THIS SCENE;?!

—"His eyes are a little red, maybe because of how exhausted he's been lately. Even his blinking has slowed down ... 'I'm a little tired. Can I lie down for a bit?'"

—"Before I can answer, Xavier rests his head on my lap."

DIRECTLY plays out the mutual reliance they have on one another for comfort and rest, because it parallels that line in lightseeking ovsession that we're all familiar with:

"You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me."

i think that as much as they have been growing in to their own persons, they're both so closely intertwined, and so much of their love for each other really just pours out all the time.

iii. xavier's forwardness

granted, one thing that's interesting in this is that they do start out pretty tame. there's a little bit of a vague area concerning their relationship at the start of the card, especially since mc seems back into her old habits of starting something and not following through—or otherwise, unintentionally starting something, and then shying away afterwards. she does get noticeably flustered, but she pushes the fluster away... almost as if old habits die hard.

...but xavier, on the other hand, is more consistently bold with whatever he's doing.

there's no hesitation on his part at all, even.

in fact, xavier is the one who initiates most of these things, and doesn't shy away from it. his cheekiness really shines through—he's the one who kisses her suddenly (and for all the other kisses he initiates in the card); he's the one who fixes her clothes, her hair; he's the one playing around while teaching her calligraphy; he's the one who's so eager and unbothered about showing off their relationship:

—"Did we need to hide? Or can the Young Master not chat with a Flower Goddess?"

—"It was going to be awkward... And I heard one of the hosts of this ceremony is the mansion's owner. Since you're an organizer and the Young Master, it wouldn't look good if I was biased, right?"

—He touches the small of my back, which makes me stand up straight. "But you always have special place in my heart."

and:

"Well, I guess everyone knows now. Does this mean I can officially play favorites?"

like he's actually being SUCH a menace i had to pause and take a deep breath

but he's very consistently bold, and it, again, goes back to the confidence that he's gained in himself. he seems a little less of the uncertain, almost shy ish xavier who didn't quite know how to make proper advances... this time, he knows mc is comfortable with his advances, and he gets to play around with that. they're comfortable around each other, to this point that he can be a little more free with his words and his actions.

and eventually, we see mc beginning to reciprocate that again—especially during the festival itself, and in the kindled moments.

which brings me to...

iv. the festival day

i'd specifically talk about, here, the moment before the dance and during the dance.

because it's alao the exact moment that we see mc begin to actually reciprocate and throw back her own advancements—it's the exact moment we have a confirmation that she loves him, that she adores him, that he means so so so so much to her.

and on the day of the festival, we go back to what i highlighted earlier:

he soothes her worries.

the first instance we see this is their little "reunion" that we talked about—it's his very presence, and his added explanation, that calms her down in that moment.

and now is not so different:

—"The most important part of the ceremony, the Flower Goddess Dance, is about to begin. I glance again at the crowd. 'Where will you be during the dance?'"

—"Xavier gently takes my hand that's holding the petal. 'That flower from the roadside will wilt if you keep touching it.'"

—"'I'm just a little nervous.'"

—"'Scared of dancing, hunter? Actually, I got you a gift ... It was meant to be a surprise. But since you're feeling nervous, I figured I should tell you."

—"'That works. Now, my focus has shifted to the excitement about your gift.'"

(which, another side note, but "Scared of dancing, hunter?" had me GASPING because???? the way he teases her in this?! it's so unabashedly him without holding anything back, no coyness about it but he's being a cheeky little shit 😭 i adore him...)

a few things to note here is that out of context, it does feel like a little bit of an awkward way to be comforting someone—yet, it works extremely well. what xavier does here is not provide reassuring sugarcoated words like "it's going to be okay", he distracts her from the problem instead by giving her something to look forward to. which, in this case, is the gift.

interestingly, in a way the 'distracting' is also reminiscent of something he does when he tries to hide something from her—cutting the conversation short when she asks about lumiere, in the lumiere myth asking her to go check on the 'wanderer' so as not to let her see what he had to inject from the ship...

in his lightseeker myth, they talk briefly about his fight with the king, and the possibility of him no longer taking the throne. this conversation proves vague and a little bit one-sided, and in the end he pushes forward the idea of eloping to uluru almost as if to avoid further discussion about the fight itself.

but this time, that's not particularly where he stops: he addresses her question as well, just to find a fallback, an extra little bit of reassurance.

—"'See that tree over there? I'll be standing under it.'"

—"I follow Xavier's gaze. Nearby is a tree covered in red silk ribbons and wooden plaques by the bridge. 'So if I mess up the dance, you'll see everything, huh?'"

—"'I promise I'll forget about them after a good sleep.' His gaze remains on my face, appearing indifferent. Yet I sense a passion about to overflow. 'The only thing l'll remember today is your beauty.'"

FIRST OF ALL. "The only thing I'll remember today is your beauty." A BEAUTIFUL FUCKING LINE, BY THE WAY. IT GAVE ME LITERAL BUTTERFLIES I HAD TO PAUSE FOR A MOMENT. (1) more proof that in the end she's really all he cares about, (2) he's being unabashedly bold with his words again—no filter moment, but zero hesitation, (3) "i sense a passion about to overflow"? he's not being coy about this either, he's saying what he truly feels. he's opening up and expressing himself more, expressing his love for her more, and being genuine about it!

but also, in terms of additional comfort, it's a widely known tactic in states of panic to ground yourself by using your senses to register something familiar: you see something familiar to you, hear something familiar to you, touch something familiar to you, smell something familiar to you. such as, the ground beneath your feet. the air around you, the vague sound of chattering around you, maybe even the touch of your bag, or the fabric of your clothing, the window you know has always been there, etc. panic brings about a sense of derealization, and grounding yourself is usually the first step to calming down.

what xavier is doing now is offering the knowledge to her that he will be there. that she knows exactly where to look for him if she needs to during the dance. she has the opportunity to ground herself with his presence whenever she needs to.

(and again, it's a direct reflection of that line: "You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me.")

and it's exactly what she does.

though she ends up enjoying the dance and the crowd does block her direct view of the tree during the dance itself, she takes comfort in the fact that she knows he's there.

she trusts him; she doesn't need to see him to know that he'd there.

and then she thinks something beautiful:

"Engrossed in the dance's rhythm, my mind is strangely at peace. After all, I know there's someone in the crowd whose eyes are only on me."

once again, it goes back—his presence offers her comfort.

the first thing she does once she's received all the flowers is run to him, and he waits for her gladly. like he's always waited for her, like he always will wait for her.

"A lot of people wanted to give you flowers. I couldn't get past them, so I decided to wait for you here. Seems they're quite fond of you, just like me."

a note: the peach blossom

i figured this deserved a section on its own actually, particularly because the whole theme is this whole "flower goddess" thing... and in the beginning, we see mentions of the "goddess of daffodils" and the "goddess of peonies".

yet, we never really truly find out what mc's potentially assigned flower was—

the only mention of a flower that we do see, directly related to her, is when the little kid compliments her hair and places a peach blossom into her basket.

and while i wouldn't know if this means it's her flower or not, but the specific mention of the peach blossom is adorable, because in chinese floriography, the peach blossom represents love.

it's used in a lot of chinese literature and often associated with the arrival of spring—which, "according to the rites of zhou, the middle of spring is a period when men and women fall in love freely." therefore, a lot of chinese literature and poems also allude peach blossoms to romance, being that spring does as well. but, it's also associated with beauty: "after the wei and jin dynasties, beauties were portrayed in a more detailed way with words like taohua mian (peach-blossom-like face) or tao sai (peach-blossom-like cheek)." and there are other things it represents too, like prosperity, growth, and longevity.

when xavier gives mc the hairpin at the end, mc describes it as "pretty and adorned with pink flowers as if they are on a branch", and while not explicitly stated, i do believe that they are also peach blossoms.

whether or not that's the case, and whether or not the peach blossom was mc's flower (or maybe that it's just generally part of the festival), i think it's a really cute detail! i think it perfectly represents their growing relationship, and essentially the beauty with which xavier always sees her~

BUT, MOVING ON.....

v. the wish

the final stretch boils down to this.

"A gentle breeze stirs the wooden plaques hanging from the branches. A faint, melodic sound dances in the air. 'They say a Flower Goddess can bless people's wishes. And if the person making the wish is someone she favors, it's more likely to come true.'"

it's where the kindled moment falls, as xavier proposes for them to make a wish together.

and, mind you, this whole entire scene is ADORABLE AND LIVES RENT FREE IN MY HEAD ... the playfulness between their words, the "if i tell you my wish, it won't come true", the way xavier CARRIES HER??? AND THE WAY HE CATCHES HER WHEN SHE FALLS AND PINS HER AGAINST THE TREE AND AND AND AND.

everytime i think of it i end up keysmashing in my head IT'S JUST SO CUTE i could burn it into my head 😭😭😭😭

but, AHEM, he also says...

"Throughout history, humanity has always made the same wishes. Perhaps it's because those feelings we have... are timeless."

i think it's a really pretty line, but more than how pretty it is, i think it represents xavier perfectly.

xavier has lived long enough, and he's likely also made similar wishes along the way. for mc to be safe, for mc to be happy... things along those lines. and for him to describe that as "timeless" also represents his love for her—because it is timeless. he loves her more than anything else in the world. it transcends space, and time, and anything else; to him, she is love. she is timeless.

it's worth noting that everytime xavier and mc get scenes where they wish together, xavier never really says what his wishes are.

in "when shooting stars fall", mc wishes for many things. for xavier's freedom and happiness, for her to be healthy, for time to stop in their moment together... for xavier's freedom, xavier's happiness, and, in her final moments—"i wish to meet you in my next life." but he's never said explicitly what he wished for at all.

in "warm wishes", mc also mentions a lot of wishes:

"I wished I could pass all my tests with flying colors and go to a good university. I wished for Grandma to be healthy. I wished for my neighbor's cat to come home..."

and her actual wish that night was:

"l wish.... everyone can have snowflakes fall on their shoulders when they're lonely, and see the stars when they're lost."

yet that night, xavier didn't make a wish. he explicitly stated:

"l didn't make a wish. I want to save my wish for when I need it the most. Plus, everything I want right now has come true."

...but this time is different.

he did make a wish.

and, this time around, he specified what it is.

"I wish I can be your sanctuary until the end of time, in your eyes."

this is a wish that's important to him. he chooses to make this wish, and he chooses to tell her about it.

there's a lot to dissect in just one statement alone, because it's so imbued into the xavier that's loved her for thousands of years.... the xavier that has grown and developed into who he is in this moment.

a sanctuary is a place of refuge and protection; a place of safety. a place of comfort. a place of rest.

and multiple times throughout this card, it highlights how xavier has been able to offer mc a certain sense of comfort. even right when the results are announced, one look at him calms her down—this part really got me.

"I glance nervously at Xavier. He makes eye contact with me, and his gaze conveys a steadfast reassurance."

it's a recurring theme in the card—comfort. peace. the peace that you can find in someone. the safety that you can find in someone. in this case, mc with xavier, and vice versa.

...and i've always associated xavier with comfort, but peace and safety have been attributes i've been hesitant to associate with him, because it's different. for you to feel safe with someone, for you to feel at peace with someone, they need to communicate, as well, a certain sense of steadfast reassurance. xavier has always been soft and comfortable, but he hasn't always exuded that steadfast type of aura.

i think that this is something that he himself realizes.

i've mentioned it before, but his wish is also a direct parallel to That Line from lightseeking obsession.

"You rest, I’ll be by your side. Always. If you have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest your weary self… you can stay with me."

yet there's also a striking difference.

what is different?

the person that he's developed into.

prince xavier, lightseeker xavier—as i mentioned earlier, there's a certain kind of confidence in himself that isn't present, and it shows. i would argue that he was at his most vulnerable that time, likely more vulnerable than when they first landed on earth, because he didn't know how to treat his relationships at all. he was too bound by the confines of what everyone, and i mean everyone, including mc at the time, wanted him to be. there was never clear communication with anyone, and it mostly seems as if he's been going through the motions—as opposed to more freedom that he's been granted on earth.

and it shows, because, that line in lightseeking obsession—does not exude confidence.

it's a comforting statement, sure...

but it's not even something that mc herself believes.

"you always lie."

it's as if xavier, as much as he's trying to comfort mc, is trying to reassure himself, too—he tries too hard to make himself appear reassuring to her that it falls short, all this on top of the times that she feels she's been let down by him.

it's ironic, almost. he says such a bold declaration despite knowing that there's a chance he wouldn't be able to keep it.

but this is different.

this time, xavier has grown to he sure of who he is and who he wants.

he said it in 21 days—"every version of me belongs to you, and only you."

yet despite the confidence that he now has in himself, notice how different this is to lightseeker's line—

he's wishing.

and he specifies that he wants it to be true in her eyes.

it's as if he's saying, i'm not sure if this is what you think about me, but i do know that i want it to be what you think about me.

he's not reassuring her; he's not making a bold declaration. he's not saying, you will think of me as a sanctuary. neither is he saying, i will be your sanctuary.

he's saying, i want to be your sanctuary.

the final decision falls to her.

the confidence lies in stating what he wants, and there's no fear in it—there's no hesitation, nothing that implies that he's scared to say it. he's confident in what he says, and either confident that she'll accept it, or confident that no matter what her choice is in the matter it's okay.

that's why this wish is so strong.

and it's mc who then says, at the end;

"I wanted to tell you that your wishes will always come true."

because she reciprocates.

and this whole moment, everything that happens from hereon—the results, the hairpin...

—"'If you meet a Flower Goddess you like, give her fresh flowers. It's a local custom here. But there are many people who admire you, and all of them have given you flowers. My flower wouldn't be special enough. So, I made a flower hairpin. This is the first time I made one, though. Don't judge it too harshly.'"

—"Xavier's hand is warm. Like petals being carried on the wind, his smile descends and touches my heart. 'What makes you say that? It's amazing. Besides, even if you just gave me flowers, they'd be the most special ones l've ever received.'"

it's worth noting that the scene where xavier gives the hairpin is also very much the same way he makes the wish. he does admit that he doesn't know if she'd appreciate flowers—but he takes it a step forward. he knows he wants to be extra special, he knows he wants her to have something she'll remember, so he does something different. he makes, and gives her, a flower hairpin. of his own accord.

it doesn't stop at his insecurities, which he still has—he takes those insecurities and spins them into something he can be sure of himself.

and there it is again.

the steadfast reassurance.

and it's what makes the moment so much more memorable to mc, so much more meaningful.

and it's why, then, he can say things like this:

"No matter what happens, I'm always blessed to have someone by my side, who makes my gaze never feel alone."

"Forever is but a collection of moments strung together. With every minute comes another, second after second. When I open my eyes again, I want you to still be by my side."

it's in a way wherein xavier is able to take some lead in their relationship, because he's more sure of himself this time. and it progresses their relationship in a way that it wouldn't have if he never learned—he's learning. he's growing. and he's really truly turning out to be someone that can love with his whole heart, without holding back.

i think this card showcases that the most, and maybe that's why i love it so much <3

ALSO, P.S., ONE MORE PARALLEL—

xavier says that the flowers are blooming beautifully this season—"it smells like spring". in his lightseeker myth, he says something similar! "With spring's arrival, hope is soon to follow."

just a neat lil thing, i think <3 spring is always so closely associated with xavier, and the card really does end on such a light and hopeful note.

#GOOD ALMOST-AFTERNOON #to me and my love for this card #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #lnda #lads #l&ds #xavier #love and deepspace xavier #love & deepspace xavier #lnds xavier #lads xavier #l&ds xavier #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #*ੈ♡. rose talks

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mentalmeles · 14 hours

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Well. While the brain rot has me, I wanna talk about some lines in ‘Trust Love’ that have been bothering me lately. Mostly how they blatantly reference Penny and how she just might return once more.

Yes, it’s that kind of Penny posting. If you don’t subscribe to the Penny 3.0 theory or think she should stay dead, please carry on and let me have my silly little thoughts in peace. Also this is 100% Nuts and Dolts propaganda. I will not apologize.

ANYWAY! Onto the lyrics!

Right now, your hopes are shattered / Just pointless ever after

This line obviously talks about the loss of hope. Penny, time and again, has been the character to symbolize hope. The most obvious time this has been done was during Jinxy’s auction in Volume 9.

Ruby is inexplicably drawn to the jade marionette, which we all know turns out to be one of Penny’s swords. (And ofc let’s not forget that weapons are considered an extension of their owners in this world.)

Without knowing why, Ruby wants it and tries to wager for it. But Jinxy asks for something in particular—something Ruby has lost.

“Enough hope to fill [a] jar.”

I also want to point out that the pov making it look like the jade marionette is fitting inside the jar as well as the star charm tied around the top are not at all coincidences. This is the show telling us point blank that Penny is the personification of hope. Or at least Ruby’s hope.

But Ruby just lost her. She has no hope left.

But in time, you'll find / Through love, your power just shines

(I felt the need to put this gif here since it is exactly what plays during these lines in the Volume 7 intro, so let’s just sit and think about the implications of that for a moment. Cool? Cool.)

When you don't know where to turn to / And you're sure all hope is gone / When the day you waited for won't come / And dark won't yield to dawn / Trust love and open up your eyes

Now these lines are what get me. They talk about Ruby losing hope and direction, caught in darkness. Now, while this is the intro song for Volume 7, it’s clear that Ruby has not lost her hope yet. If anything, she just got a big chunk of it back.

And I’d argue that even In Volume 8 when shit has hit the fan and it just keeps coming and coming, Ruby hasn’t lost her resolve yet. There are definitely moments when she comes very, very close to it and she falters, but she does end up maintaining it for the most part.

(I can't find it, but imagine the gif where Ruby is looking down at Penny's unconscious body and is tearing up while saying "It's all...too much." Wow. Such a pretty gif.)

(It's also funny how these moments where Ruby's doubts are the strongest are taking place when Penny is seriously wounded and incapacitated, now isn't it? Surely that's just a funny coincidence...)

But then she and the rest of team RWBY fall into the Ever After and, after learning about Penny's second death, Ruby's mental state just falls deeper and deeper.

But then the lyrics tell Ruby that all she has to do during this dark and harrowing moment is to 'trust love.' Who's love is she supposed to trust? The song has been relating to keeping hope up till now, so it's not a stretch to say that she's supposed to trust the love she had for Penny, platonic or otherwise.

Trust love, the truth is there, but sometimes in disguise

These lines are certainly interesting when put into the context that they're also related to Penny somehow. Personally, all I can think of is when Penny transferred the Winter Maiden powers to Winter. I'm definitely not the first to mention this, but it's awfully suspicious that the aura glow was yellow and not green, isn't it? Sure, there were motes of green, but that isn't what happened when Fria gave Penny the powers previously. So why the change? Unless the truth, while there, is disguised. The truth is that Penny is dying and giving up her power, but it's disguised somehow...

The way's uncertain but we're together / Movin' toward the light / When we trust in love and open up our eyes

Mention of Ruby being together with someone. Obviously, this could just be referring to team RWBY or the whole group being together, united under the mission of saving Remnant from Salem. But, again, when mostly every other line has been tied to hope--and by extension Penny--, it's hard to believe it's talking about that. So, maybe a reunion with a certain someone that hasn't happened yet? A reunion that will bring Ruby back towards the light--towards regaining her hope--once and for all? I mean, if Ruby's character arc in the second Justice League crossover movie is where her arc will go in the show proper, it's not too far of a stretch.

(The reason I mention the Justice League crossover movies is because Ruby's arc in the first movie was very reminiscent to the arc she had about her leadership role in Volumes 7 and 8. So, since she became very self sacrificing in that movie, diving headfirst into mission after mission with no regard to her safety, maybe that's what will happen in Volume 10 too? Maybe having the potential of getting Penny back will be the thing to make her stop?)

Anyways... I don't know if any of this really made any sense and I might just be rambling nonsense, but yeah. Some things that I noticed and felt the need to shout out into the ether.

Thanks for reading!

#rwby #greenlight volume 10 #penny polendina #ruby rose #nuts and dolts #nuts n dolts #mechanical rose #penny 3.0 #the star child speaks #long post

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nightcolorz · 2 days

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I think part of why communities autistic representation with Abed is so good isn’t just how it portrays the symptoms and experience accurately, but also how it conveys plot lines and story arcs about the different types of people and interpersonal conflict an autistic person would face. Community definitely isn’t the first show to have ableism as a conflict, but in my experience of watching stuff it’s the first show I’ve seen that has such a nuanced approach to so many different types of ableism and different realistic reactions and solutions (all while being a sitcom with a cast of morally corrupt characters and absurd fantastical scenarios).

Frankie Dart for example, who is introduced in season 6, is kind of that level headed business woman archetype, conveys that she has a lot of experience with disabled ppl in her personal life, and (as is later confirmed) a lot of affection for them bcus she has a sister with a high support needs disability. This draws her to Abed, being that he’s autistic, and the two begin and understanding and friendship. Frankie is very kind and unusually understanding and compassionate towards Abed and his needs, and communicates with him in a way that is refreshingly easy for him to understand. And at the same time, patterns of infantilizing and condescending behavior begin to occur in their dynamic, until eventually Frankie outright says that abed “doesn’t know any better”, conveying to him that she thinks he’s too disabled to be aware of what he wants and believes, or to make his own decisions without someone who knows what’s best for him to guide him. And the great thing is everyone who witnesses her say this is disgusted 😭🫶 she is berated bcus everyone who knows abed knows that he is a grown ass man who doesn’t need to be hand held or condescended to.

But what’s so interesting about this conflict with Frankie is that she does earnestly mean well, she’s not a one sided abliest villain, she’s a person who could really exist. What is conveyed is that Frankie infantilizes abed bcus she has an expectation of autism that does not apply to every autistic person. She assumes that bcus her sister has high support needs and needs help making decisions, that abed is the same way, bcus she thinks all autistic ppl r like her sister and acts accordingly. And then she learns that this is wrong, and abed is fully capable of functioning without her help. It’s great! There’s no moral speech about how autistic ppl aren’t babies or anything like that. Frankie means well, fucks up, and is forgiven when she changes her behavior.

I just love it bcus ableism and other forms of bigotry aren’t often portrayed with so much nuance. Ableism isn’t usually this big thing, most people r on some degree abliest, and a lot of the time people who have a lot of experience with disabled ppl and mean well (especially ppl with disabled family or siblings) end up having the most abliest biases, it just feels so real.

#Abed nadir #abed community #community nbc #nbc community #community

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itwasrealtome · 2 days

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THIN ICE

Olivia Benson x fem! reader

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist

Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.

A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.

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This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.

— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.

These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.

— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.

At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.

It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.

But she could not say that to her.

To anyone, actually.

— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?

In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.

— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.

— Something’s wrong.

Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.

— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.

— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–

The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.

— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.

— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.

The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.

— I do not drive like a maniac.

Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.

She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.

— That you do.

The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.

Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.

— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.

Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.

— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.

If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.

As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.

At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.

Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.

Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.

— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.

The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.

A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.

As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.

He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.

Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.

Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.

First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.

— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!

For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.

Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.

— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.

***

Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.

But someone was bound to make her lose it.

Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.

It hadn't been for a long time.

When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.

She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.

All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.

— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.

This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.

— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.

— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!

Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.

— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.

— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!

— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.

The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.

— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.

For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.

Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.

— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.

The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.

Maybe she should have.

Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.

Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.

•••

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#olivia benson x reader #law and order svu #oneshot #angst #amanda rollins x reader #olivia benson

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cazzyf1 · 2 days

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The other day on my tiktok I created a simple post about how James Hunt is more than just the Playboy persona that is associated with him. This flew over someone's head who commented about how he was a Playboy. I responded explaining the point of the video but instead they doubled down saying that James didn't care about F1 only about partying.

So today I went through some of my books and gathered a load of quotes to show the James Hunt that most people do not know about, the one outside of the Playboy perception. I've posted it on tiktok but figured I'll upload it here as well so the true James Hunt can reach more people and slowly we can dismantle the reputation 'Rush' gave him ❤️

TW: Depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms/addictions

When you think of James Hunt you think of the 'playboy'. The guy who partied, drank lots, took drugs and slept with lots of women. Its true he did that, and a lot but to dismiss him as just that is wrong. He was a good driver, a person who tried his best, a kind man who cared for human & animal rights.

The next few slides I've compiled quotes from a few books and website to show what kind of person he actually was and what he went through in life and that less people will dismiss him as just a Playboy.

James Hunt's first marriage was rocky because James was already very involved in his addictions and he knew he didn't love Susy because he felt that he wasn't capable of love. But he felt responsible for her and wanted to look after her. Here is his own opinion from his book ->

"It was really THE problem. I thought that marriage was what I wanted and needed to give me a nice stable and quiet home life, but in fact it wasn't and the key mistake was mine. I really wanted to go racing on my own, and it wasn't much fun for Susy to sit at home and wait for me all that time. It was also a terrible hassle for her to come racing because race meetings were probably the most relaxing time in my schedule. The rest of the time you tend to be leaping on aeroplanes once a day and that made it even worse because it's bad enough organizing one person to get on an aeroplane. Organizing two gets to be twice as much hassle. It got to the point where it was a problem for Susy to come travelling and a hell of a deal for her to stay at home. It was making life miserable in the extreme for her and since I felt responsible for her it was making me miserable too. So we had agreed to split up and then Richard Burton came along and solved all the problems. We had had an immensely successful marriage because I learnt an awful lot about myself and life and I think Susy did too. We all ended up happy, anyway, which is more than can be said for a lot of marriages" - p14 Against All Odds

Much is said about James Hunt and the ladies he kept company, and without knowing anything about James you might assume the worst, but here's some quotes about what he was actually like with the ladies ->

"I don't usually have sex before a race because I am very definitely concentrating -I find that it is the communication between two people that makes it worth- while, and before a race I am pretty uncommunicative. However, if say I have an hour or so to spare before dinner on the night before a race then I can enjoy the physical release. But I will only do it with someone who is fully understanding" - p15 Against All Odds

"He was always attentive to his partners needs. Indeed much of his satisfaction came from giving pleasure. The only problem, some of them confessed, was that his desire to please often out-stripped their needs" - p264 James Hunt: The Biography

"I was sure he was gay, because he never made a move on me for so long" - p278 Jane Birbeck, long time partner, James Hunt: The Biography

"He missed the actual skirmish - he was inside getting drinks at the bar - but had to be forcibly restrained from going after the policeman who hit his girlfriend" - p284 James Hunt: The Biography

James Hunt had many affairs in his time, because he had become an addict to many things including women (more on this later) He was aware of his and it plagued James that he couldn't control it ->

"One evening she returned to their London home to find James in tears. He was tormented by feelings of guilt caused by his lust for other women. He confessed the full extent of his unfaithfulness, that it was unfair to her and that for her sake they couldn't remain a couple. It wasn't that he was bored with her, but that his desire for other women was insatiable and uncontrollable. He held Jane in his arms and they both wept" - p320

One thing that helped James in his life time was his love for animals especially his pet dog Oscar. Here are some quotes about his love for animals and how far he would go to help protect them ->

"I think in a way Oscar was the child James never had at that stage. He was a remarkable dog, no question, but James thought a lot about animals and their requirements and was very concerned about their needs. He gave Oscar the very best treatment and also was keenly intrested in the welfare of other dogs. He would look at a dog, wonder if it's owner was treating it well and bringing it up properly and if the dog was getting everything out of life that it could" - p281

"Before he came to know James better, the journalist Nigel Roebuck was pleasantly surprised by an incident involvinged stray dog. It was late in the evening after a Grand Prix and tha teams were packing up to leave when James, while talking to Roebuck, saw the dog wandering around the paddock, shiver-ing and obviously very hungry. Roebuck, also sensitive to the needs of an animal in distress, went with James to several of the team motorhomes where they got food and fed the dog. But that wasn't the end of it as far as James was concerned. He insisted that they should take the dog up to the race control centre.

Roebuck: 'He took the dog in there and would not leave until he was sure it would be looked after. James actually made this official sign a piece of paper saying he would take care of the dog and see that it was housed and properly cared for. I was very impressed with this. James was probably one of only a handful of people on this entire planet who would even give that sort of thing a second thought." - p281

"He also thought the wild animals residing on his estate should be left alone. If vermin had to be controlled it should be done in the most humane way possible, and he strongly dissaproved of blood sports. The very thought of fox hunting he found horrible and he vowed not to allow it on his property" - p308

James was also incredibly caring towards the young people in his life such as his sons and his younger siblings. Here’s an extract from his first GF about James and his siblings ->

".. the way he expressed his concern for the emotional youngest members of his family:

He really enjoyed looking after them, and just seeing the way the behaved with his little brothers and sisters you knew was instinctive in him. He was always going to be a good father.

One evening he invited her home where he was babysitting Jo Jo, Dave and Tim. When James had tucked them in he left Ping to read them a bedtime story. When Ping came downstairs James asked her if she had helped them say their prayers. When I said no, James said: "Right. You've missed out hugely there. Come on, we'd better go and do it." So they did. His attitude was that he was taught to do that by his parents and it simply had to be done.'

But he also practised what he preached, and he believed in the power of prayer. In the troubled years to come James would pray to God for strength and help, and he eventually passed on the bedtime prayer ritual to his own two boys, to whom he became completely devoted.

During his time with Ping he had talked about having children, and she thinks fatherhood earlier in his life would have prevented James from sinking into his period of decadence.

I felt so sorry for him then because I knew underneath it wasn't the real James doing this. I think he was trying to make life happy, the wrong way. If he had settled down earlier, had a more normal home life with children of his own when he was younger, one could have seen a totally different James.' - p26

James Hunt cared for human rights especially taking a stand against the Apartheids in South Africa. The Apartheids in short was a system of racial segregation. In protest most sports were not going to South Africa but Formula One still was, and James Hunt made it clear his thoughts

“We were once covering the South African Grand Prix during the days of apartheid. All of a sudden, and for no particular reason, he launched into an attack on apartheid.

“It was nothing to do with the Grand Prix, nor would it do British-South African relations any good. Our producer pushed a piece of paper across saying: ‘Talk about the race!’

“And then James blurted out on air: ‘Thank God we’re not actually there!”

But simply calling out Apartheid on the air wasn’t enough for Hunt. He sought to have his race commentaries blocked from being broadcast in South Africa, but was unsuccessful.

When that didn’t work, he instead — and secretly — gave financial support from his income as a race broadcaster to groups struggling to end Apartheid in South Africa."

"His deeply compassionate and loving nature was something that, unfortunately, wasn't adequately conveyed to the public, who only ever heard about the sensational side of James Hunt" - p282 John Watson

As mentioned earlier James Hunt was an addict. His playboy lifestyle was his addictions and this is all rooted back to the fact that James Hunt had depression which grew stronger and stronger. He relied on his additions to get rid of his depression which meant he kept doing more and more. Here are some quotes about his struggle with it and eventually how he overcame it ->

"At home James became increasingly introverted, uncommunicative and reclusive. He gave up golf and spent more and more of his time in the aviary tending his budgies. While the parties continued he would often leave the guests to Sarah and closet himself in the aviary for hours on end.

It became obvious that James was very troubled, but only Sarah and his closest friends knew the full extent of the anguish and despair James suffered during his bouts with what he called his 'dippers'.

Black dog' was the term Winston Churchill used for the recurring 'depressions which afflicted him throughout his life. Bubbles Horsley thinks James was 'born with a "black dog" on his shoulder. His racing pushed the "dog" away far enough so that it was no longer visible. But underneath that wonderful joie de vivre, the laughter and enjoying life, he was given to black moods. He was fearful of them and maybe it was that fear that drove him on. Perhaps without it he would never have been World Champion.

'And I think after the initial "honeymoon" of retirement from racing the black dog came and sat on his shoulder and wouldnt go away. So he became more fearful and sought distraction in various ways, through sex and drink and drugs and rock and roll, as it were." - p323

"At home Sarah watched her husband's condition worsen and desperately sought to help him. She thought his depressiond might partly be due to a chemical imbalance that James was born with, a theory that James explored himself. Then, too, to keep his dippers at bay he consumed too much alcohol and marijuana, both of which can temporarily bring relief but over the long term on have depressive effects.

Like others, Sarah felt that another reason for his 'dippers' might have been because he cut off his emotions early in his life and never learned how to open up to people, or to need them. He was essentially a lonely man and his inability to form close relationships made him despair. His depressions further deadened his feelings, and when he was unable to respond emotionally to marriage and children he grew progressively more despondent.

Sarah: 'He was at war with himself. His depressions became Intolerable and towards the end he stopped trying to fight them coming on because he knew they would take over for two days or week. His face would go black and he would take to his bed and stay there, even on Christmas Day. He'd gone to bed two days beforehand and we had Christmas stockings for the boys. I said, Come on, Beast, the boys are waiting." And he said, "Beast, i can't do it." And he was crying" - p333

"When James felt a "dipper" coming on he would go on two- or three-day benders, mostly drinking vodka. He would just keep going and going, which was always a bit terrifying, and after these deep, dark blank days he would suffer real self-loathing. He could forget his trouble with drink, but it always came back.

For many years trying to get rid of his depression was his major concern, which is why he got the budgerigars. He thought it would be such a huge amount of effort that it would distract him and they became an obsession rather than a hobby. He would sit in the aviary for hours, but he would come back still in the grip of gloom. And for a long time he was so down it was very hard to even converse with him." - p326

"He tried different treatments acupuncture, Chinese herbal medicine and looked into every possible theory. He went to different healers, therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, the lot, to try and find the root of his depression. And in the end he cracked it" - p337

"He began to become more diet-conscious and to eat healthy foods. He also consumed information, in books and magazines, on overcoming addictions, and sought more professional help.

He knew he should stop smoking cigarettes and reduce his marijuana consumption, and he told some friends he thought he might be an alcoholic. He worried that his need for women was another form of addiction and feared he might contract AIDS and infect someone else.

John Hogan: 'So he stopped it all. Straightened himself out by absolute willpower. The strength of character of the man enabled him to get out of it. He cut out the cigarettes, the dope and drugs. the booze and the womanising and his sense of priorities became more well-balanced.' - p338

As he started healing himself of his addictions he became serious about F1 again. He always cared for the sport, doing everything he could to race when he was younger and now though he was retired he still commentated and took part in other ways to stay close to the sport ->

"James became serious about strengthening his position in the media side of Formula 1 racing. He took on an internationally syndicated newspaper column and spent many hours gathering information for it. Working with a journalist he applied himself conscientiously to making sure that every word was written to his satisfaction" - p338

James started to heal his relationships as well, becoming an amazing parent to his two boys and finally meeting a woman who helped him feel loved and be able to love after so long of not being able to ->

"The boys were real handfuls to look after but he was awfully good with them and he really fathered and mothered them extremely well. He was always up early in the morning cooking their breakfast and then the four of us would go off salmon fishing. James would fish properly and I would fool around fishing with the youngsters. And then in the evening we used to settle down and he would tell them stories." - p343

A letter James sent to his girlfriend Helen:

"I went to the parents' 50th in a totally negative frame of mind, feeling very much an outsider and wanting the floor to swallow me up. As the day went on, although I remained 'out- side', I could see and feel lots of generous, undemanding love around me. Something changed for me there with my family. Everyone was exuding love and I saw the wonder of it and want to be part of it, but firstly with you.

I realise now that the feeling of not being loved as a child made me close up to any incoming love projected onto me. I do see that I cannot live on without love. You brought it home to me when you pointed out how well I'm doing with the boys. Well I have had to work at that and I've got better at it and I have to do it with you. You are the girl of my dreams. Without you I have no future. I want to make you happy and continue to do so until I die.

All my love for the love of my life,

James"

- p350

Finally James was happy. He was healed from his addictions, in a healthy relationship, had two lovely sons and a job he loved. And best of all he was able to be open with Helen ->

"James confessed to Helen that he was unable to be faithful to anyone in the past because sex was for him just another addiction and he needed women to get his highs. He disliked social gatherings and only had parties or went to them to pick up women. Helen was willing to forgive and forget what went on before, but told him she wouldn't tolerate it in their relationship and he agreed to be faithful to her." - p350

Helen went away on a girls holiday before her and James were going to start trying for children. James proposed to her over the phone on the holiday to which she said yes. But she would never see her finance because he passed away from a heart attack. Unfortunately the previous life he lead caught up to him.

Thank you for reading all of this and I hope you now know more about James Hunt than you already did! It's sad that James is best known now for his unhealthy coping mechanisms for his depression, especially with the film 'Rush' romanticising it. But even if just one person reads all of this it means one more person knows the truth of James Hunt and that makes it worth it ❤️

#classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #james hunt

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tennessoui · 23 hours

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3 or 60 for the Stacy's mom AU pretty please?

thank you for sending this in <3

[from this list of prompts] / [Stacy's Mom AU]

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

honestly as much as they'd both probably enjoy wearing each other's clothing, their styles and color choices are just so different that it's too noticeable and both of them are committed to flying under the radar with their relationship. the most they could get away with is probably anakin dumping his cloaks on obi-wan's shoulders at the slightest shiver from a slightly chilly day. obi-wan now owns like. 12 of anakin's cloaks. he has no intention of giving any of them back.

i imagine obi-wan attempts to give anakin a poorly carved jappor snippet after he reads about the cultural traditions on tatooine. it's really really ugly and it sort of looks like someone's hacked it to pieces and then set it on fire, but master skywalker takes to wearing it religiously.

also i think master skywalker's fascination with obi-wan's hair grows deeper now that he gets to play with it whenever he wants and lace his fingers through it, etc etc, and he takes a lot of calming joy out of playing with it at night if he's awake and obi-wan's asleep, which turns into braiding different sorts of hairstyles into his hair. obi-wan takes to wearing them around the Temple when he's awake - they're much fancier than the padawan braid and much, much more elaborate (because anakin can never do anything half-assed)

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

lmao ok i think obi-wan's preferred sleeping position is with anakin draped on top of him which anakin is happy to accommodate. but anakin also runs hot, and obi-wan hates being hot in his sleep so anakin often wakes up to obi-wan-shaped fists and feet shoving him away (only to get cold a few hours later and pull him back closer as if he's not a jedi master but obi-wan's personal weighted blanket)

anakin doesn't really mind but he definitely fantasizes about retiring from the Order, convincing obi-wan to follow him, and moving them to some arctic snowy planet where obi-wan is always a little cold and never ever shoves anakin away during the night

snippet (pertaining to question 3)

At first, Obi-Wan is inclined to believe that Quinlan is doing this on purpose, out of some practical joke or in an attempt to tease him and prod at him as if they're still padawans. As if Quin doesn't have a padawan of his own now.

Obi-Wan blinks down at the young girl's upturned face. "Uh," he says, glancing up at Quinlan and resolutely not turning to stare at Anakin, who he can feel shaking with silent laughter beside him.

"Please," Orka adds, placing her hands behind her back. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders how in the Force such a sweet child became Quinlan Vos' padawan.

"Uh, well," Obi-Wan says. "The thing is..." he stares hard at Vos, but the other man just looks expectant and slightly confused, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the tall duracrete pillar of the fountain behind him. "I think actually Master Skywalker would be thrilled to help you with your hair, Orka."

Quin raises an eyebrow. "Seems unlikely," he mutters, just low enough for Obi-Wan and Anakin to hear. Obi-Wan flushes even as Orka stomps her foot.

"But I want you to braid my hair, Knight Kenobi!" she says. "You have the best hair in the entire Order, all the padawans think so! Please braid mine to look like yours!"

Obi-Wan winces. Behind him, he can feel Anakin's hair traversing up his back to tug teasingly at the end of one of his longer braids. It's incredibly unhelpful. So is the fact that his lover is sitting there and laughing about this whole thing instead of trying to find some way to be helpful.

"The thing is, Orka," Obi-Wan says, clearing his throat. "I don't. Ah. Know how to braid your hair."

Quinlan and Orka both tilt their heads to the side in perfect mirror of each other. It would be cute if Obi-Wan did not feel so incredibly close to humiliation.

"What, you can't figure out how to braid someone else's hair?" Quinlan asks with his eyebrows firmly knitted together. "I'd think it'd be easier than doing your own. Less need to be...you know. Flexible. To get it done. And I mean, I know you're flexible, but..."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, even as he feels Anakin's chin come to rest on the top of his shoulder. Oh of course, he's no help at all when faced with a youngling's innocent request for assistance, but the moment Quinlan Vos even slightly alludes to his and Obi-Wan's shared sexual history, and Anakin has to say something.

"I braid his hair for him, little one," Anakin tells Orka, reaching out and tucking a longer braided piece of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear. "What Knight Kenobi is too proud to say is that he doesn't actually know how to braid at all."

Orka's eyes widen and she turns to look in between the three of them as if this is an incredible, total betrayal.

Quinlan's own eyes also widen, but he looks more like Life Day has come early. "Oh," he says. "Oh."

"Shut up," Obi-Wan snaps in forewarning. "Whatever you're going to say---"

"But it's always all pretty by breakfast!" Orka protests, eyebrows knitting together. "Do you braid his hair for him every morning? Even before you eat?"

Anakin's Force signature is far too smug. He's enjoying this far too much. Obi-Wan is far too in love with him anyway. It's terrible for his health and his pride.

"Sometimes adults like to have sleepovers just as the younglings do," Obi-Wan says delicately. "Just as the younglings do," he repeats loudly when both Anakin and Vos snort. "And yes, sometimes Master Skywalker enjoys braiding my hair. During those sleepovers."

Mostly, Anakin enjoys braiding his hair either in the aftermath of sex or sometime during the night when Obi-Wan is asleep and malleable and Anakin is kept awake by some nightmare or another. Mostly Anakin enjoys braiding his hair because it's the only sort of claim he can lay on him--not while they're both still Jedi.

And mostly, Anakin. enjoys braiding his hair because he spent years seeing Obi-Wan walk around the Temple with another master's braid hanging down his shoulder, and he'd hated the sight of it.

"Oh," Orka says. She considers this new information before she turns with narrowed eyes to Anakin. "So you can braid my hair."

It sounds like a threat. This time, it's Obi-Wan who has to cover his snort with a cough.

#asks #obikin #stacy's mom au #i just think anakin having a lot of fun braiding obi-wan's hair in elaborate styles #only to have all the credit be given to obi-wan #is hilarious #when anakin is just doing it to have some physical claim over his lover lol

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nyashykyunnie · 1 day

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I'll be honest even if I am a big Jinwoo fan I wouldn't defend this man like going to war saying he is the strongest or saying he has the perfect story.

My definition of perfect story is and always will be Heaven Official's Blessing, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultuvation, Scum Villain's Self-saving System, Husky and His White cat Shizun, Little Mushroom and Nan Chan.

Jinwoo is undeniably strong, but emotionally he would've been written better. We should have been given more about his struggle about losing his emotions, his struggle at the fact that he may no longer feel love and maybe it could have been a plot where he struggles to interact with his family knowing he can't feel emotions as much. We should have been given more insight to Jinwoo's depression in his E-rank era. He also went through death multiple times where is the ptsd? He went through war alone he should have more struggle. Sure, chalk it up to him already being disassociated with his emotions but buddy??? Even if he was I'm sure this man must feel a huge emptiness in him as he represents the abyss. What about that plot where Byung-gyu warned about his powers? awe aren't given any sort of sht about that. It was just said and done. We never witnessed Jinwoo struggling with his powers eating him from the inside out.

His powers affected his quality of life in a positive light, but its also a sort of punishment for Jinwoo since he cheated death and defies human biology. We could have been given a plot where Jinwoo is feeling frustrated with himself. Also he watched precious people die around him, wdym this guy has no severe anxiety? I would have personally suffer from constant panic attacks. Even if he places his shadows on everyone this guy must still have some anxiety atleast come on.

Jinwoo would obviously have depression and anxiety with what he's been through.

We can even have a plot where since he is an INTJ and they are known for thinking with their heads most of the time, we could have a Jinwoo who rationalizes things way too much. Or we could have a Jinwoo who rationalizes things to avoid the crippling depression and emptiness he feels after achieving his status as a monarch. There is so much room for us to make Jinwoo more interesting.

Jinwoo has so much potential in suffering with himself yet were just given perfect mr boy powering through everything. Which is good. You can have that plot of Jinwoo powering through everything but atleast show us situation where we can see the broken and battered him so that when he is victorious over them we as the audience feel rewarded for his triumph.

I love this guy don't get me wrong. But I wish we could have been given more emotional attachment rather than just being slapped with "Cute uwu boy turns emo and edgy" randomly. Atleast properly show us his inner turmoils in his transition

#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks

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vodika-vibes · 22 hours

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Can we get some Echo smut pretty please!! (Also one of my biggest pet peeves is how like every tbb echo/reader fic is always about him being insecure about his prosthetics like I get it but it's so repetitive. My man can be so confident and cocky when he wants to be and people seem to forget that.)

Who's Insecure

Summary: Several months after joining Clone Force 99, Hunter surprises them with a night off at a local club. But, for some reason, his brothers seem to think he will be insecure about his new appearance. Which means, he has a point to prove.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1557

Warnings: Smut, club sex, Echo uses his scomp for purposes it's not designed for

A/N: So, I love Echo, and I love Echo smut, and I'm really not sure why I don't write more of it. But, anyway, here's Echo smut with some plot. It's not a lot of smut, but I hope you like it anyway.

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

It’s a nice club. It’s not 79s, it doesn’t have the same comfortable vibe that 79s has, but it’s good all the same. The alcohol is cheap, the snacks are edible, and the music is loud.

For Echo, it’s good enough.

Honestly, he’s more surprised that his little brothers were willing to go clubbing at all.

While he would never say so to their faces, they aren’t really the clubbing type.

Which is a shame, because there’s a cute girl near the bar who hasn’t taken her eyes off Tech since they arrived. But, knowing his genius little brother, he won’t notice. And, even if he did notice, he wouldn’t know what to do about it.

At times like this, he really misses Fives and Jesse.

But, much more importantly, he has his eyes on a pretty little thing dancing up a storm on the dance floor. So far she’s turned away everyone who’s tried to dance with her. That said, she keeps meeting his gaze and tossing him flirty grins, so he’s just biding his time.

What kind of older brother will he be if he ditches his brothers before making sure that they’re having a good time?

“Echo?” He pauses, his bottle only centimeters away from his lips, and he tears his eyes away from swaying hips to focus his attention on his, suddenly nervous, brother.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Just,” Hunter nervously shares a look with Crosshair, who looks almost bored, “We just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Echo stares at them blankly for a moment, and then he smiles, “Sorry?” He’s got to at least pretend to be a good role model, right? He can’t just ask them what the kriff they’re talking about, that’s rude.

“We know that you’re a little uncertain about your new look,” Tech says without looking up from his datapad.

I’m what now? Echo blinks at his brothers, genuinely thrown by Tech’s comment.

“And people can be cruel,” Hunter continues, “Just don’t let it get to you if people make comments—”

Suddenly, Echo realizes that his new little brothers seem to think that he’s insecure about his prosthetics. Or his scars. Or maybe both. Maybe he’s done too good of a job at hiding his gremlin personality (as Rex calls it) from them.

He hums thoughtfully, his mind racing, and then his gaze slides back to the dance floor. For a moment, his gaze lingers on a specific pair of swaying hips and legs that go on for miles…and then he smirks.

Echo downs the rest of his drink and sets the bottle on the table, before he pushes to his feet, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, vod’e.” He turns to head to the dance floor, “I won’t be back to the Marauder tonight,” He tosses over his shoulder with a slightly smug smirk.

He weaves through the crowd of people and dismisses the two men who are trying to force his dance partner to dance with them with a flick of two fingers.

She grins up at him, “I wondered if you were going to join me,” She teases, her voice light and conversational.

Echo’s hand slides low on her hip, “Patience is a virtue, didn’t you know?” He’s amused and he sounds it, “I’m definitely worth waiting for, babe.”

She hums and trails her fingers down the front of his shirt, “Prove it?”

“Gladly.”

In full honesty, you didn’t expect the cute soldier to actually come over to you. You don’t expect your flirty looks, teasing smiles, and seductive dancing to tempt him onto the dance floor with you. Let alone for him to clutch you to him as though you’re his and his alone.

He’s confident and cocky, not to mention strong and unfairly handsome. He has you wrapped around his little finger after one dance, after two you’d probably agree to anything he asked, and after the third dance, you��re wondering what you have to do to be able to keep him.

Your back bumps against the cool metal door of a storage room, and you can feel the music from the club vibrating down to your bones, but neither sensation is as important to you as the feel of his lips against yours, and his tongue sliding against your own.

His arm is tight around your waist, holding you flush against him, as he blindly opens the door behind you and then walks you into the small room. You hear him lock the door as it slides shut behind him, and you whine low in your throat as he pulls away from you.

Echo chuckles and cups your cheek, “Someone’s eager,” He kisses you quickly, and pulls away again making you pout up at him. He looks amused, you can tell that much even in the dim light of the storage room, though you’re not sure why he’s so amused.

You don’t say anything, just deepen your pout, and lean into his warmth.

His thumb slides across your lower lip, “Ah, cyare. I’m going to have to break you of these bratty tendencies,” But, even as he says it, he looks delighted.

“Not bratty,” You whine, before you take his thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently. You have a very talented mouth, maybe if you show him just how talented you are he’ll continue touching you again.

You keep your gaze locked with his, so you watch as arousal darkens his gaze. “Very bratty,” His voice is lower now, and you shiver at the promising tone in his voice, “Take your clothes off.”

You blink at him and pull away from his thumb, “All of them?”

“Did I stutter?”

You take a step back and slowly start peeling your clothes off. You’re not wearing much, all things considered. A top, a skirt, panties, and your sandals.

You’re about to toss your panties to join the rest of your clothes, but Echo tugs them out of your hand and shoves them in his pocket. You don’t mind, it’s not like you don’t have more after all.

“Mm, look at how pretty you are,” Echo murmurs, as he backs you toward a table near the back wall and encourages you to sit on it. It’s surprisingly sturdy, for a wooden table. He taps the inside of your knees, spreading your legs so that he’s able to stand between your thighs.

His gaze drops to your pussy, and he releases a quiet breath, “Look at how wet you are,” His gaze flickers to your face as he slowly brushes his scomp against your clit, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “All this for me?”

For some reason, you feel like you should be embarrassed at just how aroused you are for this man you just met, but you aren’t. You feel safe and warm and you want more.

You are aware enough to know that he’s not a mind reader, so you squirm under him and spread your legs slightly, “More,”

He grins at you, “What was that? You want me to stop?”

“No, More! Echo—”

He pulls his scomp away from your clit, and you release a whine of displeasure, which is quickly muffled by his lips against yours, “Greedy,” He chides against your lips, “And so rude. Did no one teach you manners?” His tone is teasing.

You blink at him, hazily, “Please?”

“Please what, beautiful?”

You tug on the front of his shirt, “Touch me,”

“I am touching you,”

And he is, his lips are moving across your jaw and down your neck, while his hand alternated between tightly clutching your hip, and caressing every inch of skin that he can reach.

You squirm against him, able to feel his erection pressed against your thigh through his jeans, “Stop teasing me,” You whine.

“All you have to do is tell me what you want,” Echo replies, “That’s it. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I want—” You’re interrupted by a loud moan at the sensation of his scomp ghosting against your pussy.

“You want?” He’s laughing, the jerk.

It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and you shoot him the neediest look you can muster, “I want your cock, please?”

His grin widens, “Well,” Echo leans in and kisses you slowly, “Who am I to deny such a polite request?”

He pulls away just enough to unfasten his pants and tug his boxers just enough out of the way for his cock to bounce free, “You’re not gonna fully undress?” You ask, breathlessly.

“If you’re a good girl,” Echo replies as he gathers some of your arousal on his fingers to spread on his cock, “Maybe you can have me in your bed and see me naked.”

“I can be good,” You counter, and then your head falls back with a moan as the head of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yeah?” His hand moves to the back of your head and he makes you look at him. There’s a grin on his handsome face, and you gasp as he thrusts deep inside you with one firm roll of his hips.

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he bottoms out and stops moving, much to your displeasure.

Echo’s lips hover just over yours, as he throws your words back at you, “Prove it.”

@n0vqni @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @cc--2224 @adriennelenoir

#star wars #tbb #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #18+ fic #nsft #answered asks

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