#We have nothing to say to each other and what do I do afterwards with my life?

[reidology13]

I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does.

cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day. 

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

[hannahssimblr]

Jen sleeps on my bedroom floor that night. Others crash in the living room, and Evie retreats to the guest room, as per my mother’s instructions. We don’t get the chance to say goodnight. 

Now, mom and I whisper at each other on the landing.

“Can I say goodbye to Ivy?”

“No, she’s fast asleep. You’ll only disturb her.”

“Okay, but I won’t see her. I think she’d like to see me, too.”

She purses her lips. “She’s too small, and she’s starting school again soon. You’ll throw her whole routine off, and you’ll have her upset with all this talk of leaving. I’ll pass on your goodbyes in the morning.”

But when she goes to bed, I sneak in regardless, peeking around Ivy’s door into her room, lit with the dim glow of her nightlight. There, I stand for a few moments as she sleeps soundly, her arms thrown over her pillow and her blonde hair around her head like a halo. She’s always slept like that, like a little maniac, arms and legs akimbo, determined to take up as much space as possible. Her chest rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of her breath. 

I step away and quietly shut the door. 

Back in my room, Jen is sleeping too. I’m careful to undress myself quietly, and climb under the covers. 

Setting my alarm is the last thing I do. 

Four. 

I awake to the vibration of my phone and the frantic song of the first birds of dawn. It is still dark, but that other-worldly, early morning haze that you only catch before the first burst of sunrise. 

Goosebumps erupt on my skin as I climb out of bed. I dress myself and fix my hair. 

Evie is still sleeping. 

In the bathroom, I clean my teeth, then leave the toothpaste out on the counter for her. She won’t know that we keep it in the cabinet, because anything that doesn’t suit the colour scheme of the bathroom is deemed offensive to the eyes. She will appreciate knowing where to find it when she gets up.

Afterwards, I risk a gentle knock on her door, to no response. After waiting a few moments for sounds of life, I receive nothing.

A slice of dim sunlight streams through the bathroom door and across the floorboards. 

I knock again. 

“Evie?”

Nothing. 

She must be sleeping in. We were all awake past midnight, at least, so she’ll be tired, but I’m certain she’ll get up soon. 

To my left, a door squeaks.

My sister, in her pyjamas, rubs sleep from her eyes. “Hello.”

“Why are you awake?”

“Because I heard you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I climb to my knees in front of her. “I was trying to wake someone else. She must be a heavier sleeper than you, yeah?”

“Are you going now?”

“In about an hour.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t know how to feel about this yet. It’s too early to make decisions. Her hair is sticking up in all directions, and her eyes are weighty with sleep. 

I smile. “You should go back to bed.”

“Were you going to say goodbye to me?”

I hesitate. “Of course I was.”

“Oh, okay.”

“C’mere.” I hold my arms out for a hug, and she falls into them, all warm from her bed, her cheek soft and hot on the side of my neck. 

“I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Will you ring me?”

“Every day, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, no. I won’t want that. You’re too annoying to talk to every day.”

“Alright, jeez. Once a week?”

She considers this. “Yeah, alright.”

“Glad we could come up with a deal.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Okay. Bye, Judie.”

“Bye, Ivy.” I squeeze her back and rock her side to side until she begs to be freed. I oblige and flick her lightly on the forehead. “Get back to bed, right?”

She nods, becoming still and quiet, and I start to worry she might cry. I can’t handle any more crying. 

“C’mon, don’t be silly. Go to bed. I’ll call you in a few hours.”

“Yeah.”

“Go on,” I push her back into her room, and watch her climb back under the covers, curled up on her side with just her face poking out, red nose and wet eyes. 

“Miss you,” she says. 

“Miss you too.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[faaun]

i feel rly sad and conflicted abt one of my best friends on earth but idk who to ask for advice bc i usually would have consulted her in this situation lmao

[jacksintention]

.

[mazapan-heart]

So…

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[themadknightuniverse]

Loustat short comics - There is nothing else until the storm is over - Interview with the Vampire TV Series

text transcription under the cut ⬇️

Fake magazine illustration

Page 1 Daniel : So, tell me... Did you see Lestat again?

Page 2 Louis : When he's not on Tour, he would occasionally visits.

Page 3 Daniel : So you're what, now? Friends?

Louis : [Hello Lestat.]

Lestat : [Hello Louis.]

It would be too simple. You know us.

Louis : [ That's new. Still enjoying the glitz and glamor?]

But there is this arrangement we are both fine with.

Page 4 When two people hurt each other so deeply, what is left afterwards?

Page 5 Things like that, it seals doors once still unlocked at the time. Can time really heal everything?

[Mets moi dans mon cercueil, Louis, Louis...]

Page 6 [Stay down chéri, I don't want to fight like this. I'll stay. I'll stay, I'll never leave you ever again. I promise. I'll be happy. For you. For her. Please please please please]

Some things were flipped over to show the truth. Others, I learned to see differently. I faced my wrongs.

[I'll be anything please please please please please please. I didn't know it was a gift. I wore it like a curse. I was selfish. I wanted you to suffer. Because I was. Suffering. I came to thank you.]

Page 7 Do we love each other still? Yes. Can we live under the same roof, share the same spaces, the same bed, for an extended period of time, again? No. But this raging, all devouring passion, it is now replaced by something that can never be altered. Is this the price we had to pay to finally be equals?

Page 8 We have never been more understanding of each other. A shadow of something that could have been from the start. Friendly jokes. Bickering I will never admit enjoying. Respect. And then, the always surprising softness. So eerie after all that happened. Yet, we always welcome it.

Page 9 Daniel : [How dramatic. Not ready to live together again, yet he's all over your coffee table.]

Louis: [I didn't buy these.]

Daniel : [Sure. Will you let me know the next time he passes by?]

Louis : [Well I can't. This is his safe place. You will have to find him by yourself I'm afraid.]

Daniel : [Of course. He can't make anything easy. As if he didn't have enough safe places with his ten properties.]

Page 10 Louis: [Nice chat. Bye, Daniel.]

Lestat : [Only when I'm not on Tour, hm?]

Louis [Approximately.]

Lestat : [Thanks.]

Louis : [Did you really just say thank-]

Lestat: *kisses Louis* [...too soon?]

Page 11 Louis : Almost a century is enough waiting.

[suguann]

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 

“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 

The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.

He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.

Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.

Honestly, it’s that you—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)

It’s weird because it’s almost like you—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 

Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)

He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.

You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.

Sometimes, he wishes—

(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.

Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But you—

(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 

It slowly shifts and changes over time.

You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

You really are—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.

“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”

“But yours.”

This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”

Masterlist

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[thehouseofurmotha]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

[starcurtain]

2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

[ellecdc]

would you ever have the desire to write a part two to “bitten” where the reader has her first full moon and regulus comforts her (as well as remus bc duh) afterwards? I understand totally if you don’t!! 🖤

this has taken me months to complete - this was started back in April lol so thanks for the suggestion and your patience. Also, because I felt like Bitten turned out to be such a good story, this will of course not be comparable in the slightest, so do keep that in mind as you read <3

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has her first full moon [3.4k words]

p1 // p2

CW: werewolf behaviour and transformations, discussions of past familial issues that led to your bite

A proposal.

It had been a proposal that led to you fleeing from your home over the winter hols only to be attacked by a werewolf.

Though, Remus supposed it was more of a betrothal announcement than a proposal, seeing as no one had actually asked you; you had no real say in your engagement to Mulciber Senior, whose first wife only recently perished ‘under mysterious circumstances’. 

Engagement, betrothals, proposals; all words that were supposed to symbolise love and devotion being reduced to a sentence of life-long servitude and imprisonment. 

You were right to flee, yet you were punished greatly for it. 

You were still being punished for it, and would now pay that debt for the rest of your life.

Remus thought that might have been the hardest part for him, as he and all of your friends returned to school to find you looking, appearing, and probably feeling quite fragile.

The second hardest part - which of course had nothing on watching you work through your physical and emotional trauma - was having to deal with Regulus and Barty’s realisation that they would not be able to help on your first full moon. 

Of course they knew as much when they started the process, but there was a stark difference between reading the fact that the mandrake leaf needed to remain in one’s mouth from one full to another versus digesting that for what it meant. 

They were lucky enough to start the month-long mandrake leaf step immediately after you were bitten, which would allow them to complete the “full-to-full” moon cycle with the leaf in their mouth should neither of them spit it out or swallow it accidentally, but that was simply step one in a long and arduous potion-making process. 

They were then required to wait for an electrical storm after making the difficult potion with other hard-to-come-by ingredients - performing an incantation each morning and night in the meantime - to complete the process. Seeing as it was currently the middle of winter in the Scottish Highlands, they could be waiting an awful long-time for the next appropriate storm. 

“What do you mean?” Barty asked again.

Remus tried to suppress the urge to roll his eyes; for being brilliant enough to receive Outstanding on all twelve O.W.L’s, Barty was really quite thick.

Regulus - well versed to his friend’s foolishness - had no such qualms and audibly rolled his eyes at him.

“He means exactly what he said, Barty.” Regulus spat.  “We will not be able to be there for her first…transformation.” Any remaining  ire swiftly left his tone as his eyes darted to you at the end of his sentence.

Your lips pursed slightly but you simply looked at your feet.

Remus felt as if he’d hardly heard you speak since That Night; though he knew that wasn’t true. You’d spoken plenty, it just never sounded exactly like you.

There was none of your quick wit, or your simmering temper, or your effervescent joy.

Remus knew this would change you in more ways than one; being infected with lycanthropy didn’t mean you would simply turn into a rage-filled beast once a month.

This also meant you’d be warring with another voice inside of your head and another heart beating inside of your chest, both of which were seemingly working against you more and more everyday closer to the full moon.

This meant that you would never fully trust another person to know you - all of you - lest they judge you for your affliction. 

This meant that any plans and dreams you once had for your future self would have to be reconsidered or scrapped entirely. 

Life was different for you now.

You were different now. 

And it was Remus and Regulus’ job to love you through that. 

“Can you…” You started quietly before trailing off, still looking down at the floor. 

“What is it, dove?” Remus encouraged quietly.

You swallowed before nodding your head to yourself. “Can you tell me again? How it happens?”

This wasn’t the first time you asked this question, nor was it the first time Remus described the process to you in gruesome detail, but he would repeat it however many times you asked him to if it brought you any comfort at all. 

“After dinner, we go up to the dorms to change before heading to the shrieking shack. There’s a small knot on the whomping willow that Pete scouts ahead to press in order to stun it momentarily; long enough to let us in.” He explained. “I usually get upstairs and try to lie down for a little bit…try to be as comfortable as possible until I feel the transformation coming.”

“How do you know? That the transformation is coming?” This time, it was Barty who asked. 

“Your heart rate speeds up nearly double time and my skin feels like it's being pulled taut. No one is allowed to be in the room when it happens - neither I nor The Wolf have any control over our movements at the time; it’s not safe.” He explained to Barty before turning back to you. 

“About halfway through the transformation, you lose sight of the pain because it’s no longer you that is feeling it; it’s no longer you in control.” He expressed solemnly to you. “James, Pete, and Sirius would have already transformed in the next room before they come out to check on Moony; the first time they were very cautious and Moony was stand-offish, but they’ve fallen into a routine now.” 

“And then?” You continued quietly for him. Remus ached to reach across and pull your hand into his; but Remus understood just how violated you must be feeling since the Bite, and he was wary to push you. 

“And then, depending on the mood Moony seems to be in, James - as Prongs - usually opens the hatch that is Moony proof and lets them out for a romp. They start by following a trail they’ve carved down a large hill, then they chase each other down the riverbank before stopping for a drink at the edge of the Black Lake, and then Pads encourages Moony back towards the shack before the transformation.” 

“And transforming back…it hurts the same?” You asked cautiously.

Remus smiled sadly and leaned his elbows on his knees bringing him that much closer to where you were seated; looking painfully small in the desk chair situated near the trunk at the end of Regulus’ bed that Remus was sitting on. “It does, my love. But then it’s done.”

“But then it’s done.” You echoed in a whisper, pausing shredding your nail beds when Remus placed a tentative hand over your own. 

“What’s the new plan?” It was Regulus asking this time. “Now that she will be there?”

James, Sirius, and Peter - who had been quiet up until that point - perked up. 

“The plan stays mostly the same.” Sirius started.

“We’ll head upstairs after dinner and change. We’ll head to the shack, Wormy will stun the tree.” James continued.

“But that’s where the plan deviates.” Peter added. 

“There’s the room with the bed that Moo- erm, Remus awaits the transformation, and then there’s the room that we usually hide in during the transformation as our animagi; Y/N will transform in that room.” James explained.

“But then where will you lot be?” Barty asked then. 

“In the attic - it’ll be a little harder for Prongs to navigate down the narrow steps but he can manage.” Sirius stated surely, clapping a teasing hand against his friend’s back.

“We’ve practised - it was quite funny to watch the first time.” Peter added with a chuckle.

“I’ll have you know I am very agile.” James argued with a pout. 

“What happens if the wolves don’t like each other?” Barty asked again; clearly uninterested in hearing just how agile James’ animagus was. 

The room fell quiet as the Gryffindor’s shared awkward glances and Remus stared at the top of your down turned head, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. 

“They should be fine.” Sirius started, though his tone lacked confidence. “Wolves are pack animals - they should-”

“But what if they’re not fine, Black?” Barty pressed. 

“Junior, knock it off.” James barked. 

“I will do no such thing! You’re locking two very dangerous beasts in-”

“Enough.” Remus ordered when you flinched at the phrase dangerous beasts; shocking the whole room quiet. “That’s enough now.” He added quietly, encouraging your hands to separate and pulling them to his lips. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay.” You repeated on an exhale, but your voice was pitchy.

“Everybody out.” Regulus demanded.

The three Gryffindor’s moved without second thought. 

Barty seemed to hesitate. “But this is my roo-”

“Barty, please.” Regulus begged, causing Sirius to turn and look at his brother sadly; desperation not commonly seen or heard from a Black. 

“I’m sorry, Treasure.” Barty whispered before turning and following the other boys out of the room. 

“I’m okay.” You said again.

“You don’t have to be.” Remus offered you then as Regulus sat beside him to look at you imploringly. 

“I’m fucking scared.” Your voice cracked painfully at the end of your sentence causing Remus’ heart to crack painfully in sympathy. 

“I know dove, I know.” 

“We’re so well prepared, amour. This is going to go as well as it’s going to go.” Regulus added solemnly. 

It hurt both of them to be unable to comfort you anymore, but neither of them were willing to lie to you, and you seemed to appreciate the honesty. 

“I’m okay.” You repeated.

“You’re okay.” Both boys agreed in unison. 

You have to be. Remus thought to himself. I’ll make sure of it. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

If Sirius had thought the walk to the Whomping Willow after having to watch you and Remus say goodbye to Regulus (and Barty) was painful, then having to listen to the sounds of your blood curdling screams during your transformation was down right excruciating. 

Sirius - now Padfoot - was well-versed in hearing his Moony crying out in agony, though he wouldn’t go far enough to say he was accustomed to it. No one became accustomed to hearing such visceral sobs from anyone, let alone one of their best friends. 

But the addition of your gut wrenching shrieks simply added even more heartbreak to an already heartbreaking moment as Padfoot desperately tried to cover his ears with his paws, wondering if he shouldn’t have been so quick to promise Regulus that he’d make sure you were okay because this felt anything but. 

Prongs, either agreeing with Padfoot or simply sympathetic to his plight, wrapped his neck around his canine friend in an attempt to quell the noise coming from below them.

It didn’t help much, but Padfoot was grateful for it nonetheless. 

Dogs couldn’t tell time, so Padfoot had no real way of knowing how much time had lapsed between the sounds of wailing to the sounds of howling before both faded away into an occasional grunt and sniff, but Prongs - after sharing a cautious look with his friends - carefully opened the latch to the lower levels as the three friends deigned to enter the wolf's den. 

Moony - usually very excited to see his friends and packmates - hardly spared the three marauders a passing glance as his face stayed pointed at the slightly ajar door that Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail usually entered from.

Padfoot made a snuffling sound and nudged Moony’s hip with his shoulder, but the wolf simply spared him a fleeting glance and offered him a dismissive huff before turning back towards the door. 

Moony could tell something was different, something was off, though he knew not what yet. 

But the second there was noise coming from the room, Moony was standing with his ears pinned back against his head and his teeth showing. 

The door was slowly pushed open by means of a long snout also snarling as Padfoot watched Trouble slowly creep out of the room with her hackles raised and teeth bared. Moony quickly surged forward - the big oaf - causing Trouble to back into the peeling wallpaper which disturbed the dust as she snarled loudly at the other wolf.

This was not going well, Padfoot thought. They were supposed to be a pack - this was decidedly not pack.

Padfoot was just about to say something along those lines when Wormtail nibbled on his foot.

Warning. 

He hardly had a chance to give the rat a doggy glare when he noticed Moony’s stance changing; no longer was he low to the ground but moving to stand tall in front of the still cowering and snarling Trouble.

Padfoot held his breath as Moony’s snout inched closer and closer to Troubles; sniffing her out as she continued to snarl until he gently booped her nose with his, causing her to rear her head back and close her mouth - though the growling from her chest was still ever present.

Suddenly, Moony let out three ‘sneezes’ in quick succession before bowing down in front of her.

Yes! Padfoot cheered. Friends! Pack! 

He must’ve made an excited whine because Moony’s head whipped towards his oldest friend before launching himself at him and starting a playful wrestling match full of hip shoves, sneezing, and play bites. 

Trouble cocked her head at the two as she cautiously sat down, looking sceptically between the rat and stag.

Prongs, being perhaps more brave (or bold) than Wormy, stepped towards the wolf offering her a regal bow before gently booping her nose with his, causing the wolf to let out a sneeze.

Play!? Padfoot wondered at the canine sign for enjoyment and playfulness. Moony agreed, letting out three quick yips before play bowing in front of the other wolf again.

Padfoot watched as Trouble considered the wolf in front of her - far more seasoned than her, in an established pack, and … seemingly okay with her.

Padfoot offered her an encouraging stomp of his doggy foot, and that seemed to seal the deal. 

The rest of the evening had gone pretty smoothly after that; the three friends agreed that Trouble could handle a short romp in the woods. Moony didn’t seem too fussed that his usual routine was being disrupted, so Padfoot considered that a win, too. 

Padfoot, Prongs, and Moony gallivanted through the trees whilst Trouble and Wormy followed dutifully behind them; only pausing when Trouble heard any other noise or creature in the forest and letting out a quick rumbling from her chest before Moony merely rubbed against her like a giant wolf-like feline to assure her they were fine. 

So yeah, the rest of the evening had gone pretty smoothly. 

And then it was time to transform. 

Trouble seemed completely uninterested in going anywhere or doing anything when her bones started to shift again, letting out pained whimpers and yips and snarling at anyone who got too close to her.

Padfoot was anxious; they needed to get her back to the shack - she could not transform out here. 

Prongs stomped his hoof into the ground very authoritatively as he puffed out his chest, and Moony looked between his stag and his wolf in concern before Wormtail scurried over to Trouble’s snout now resting in the dirt.

Padfoot’s not exactly sure what Wormy was telling Trouble as he sniffled at the Wolf’s snout and offered it gently pats, but whatever he said seemed to work as Trouble let out a pained huff but managed to stand and followed the pack back to the shack. 

Trouble had hardly made it into her designated room before she started howling in pain and the Padfoot could actually hear her bones breaking. The wincing from both Wormtail and Prongs suggested they could too. Moony made a snarling sound at the three of them, clearly suggesting they get their arses to the attic.

But the second that the howling turned into sobbing, Padfoot shifted back to Sirius and he went racing down the stairs. 

“Go- go check on her, please.” Remus gritted out, and Sirius didn’t need to be told twice.

You were unconscious, but you were breathing. Sirius took a quick inventory of your body and was happy to note you didn’t appear to have any external injuries before he covered you with a blanket. 

“Moons, sit down- no, stop.” Sirius heard James arguing.

“I need to see her, I need-”

“You need to lay down.”

“Sirius has her, Moony.” Peter offered. 

“Where is she!?” Sirius heard Barty shout breathlessly at the same time Regulus murmured a quiet “mon loup…” 

“She’s in here, Reg.” Sirius called before two bodies came barreling through the door.

“Why isn’t she awake? Why isn’t she awake!?” Barty shouted, causing Sirius to turn and stare daggers at him. 

“Junior if you cannot control yourself and stay calm for her sake you need to get the fuck back to the castle.” 

Barty seemed stunned by his intensity but Regulus simply knelt beside Sirius over your body. 

“Oh mon amour…” He murmured sadly. “Is she-”

“No injuries, Reg. And she’s breathing, just unconscious. I think that probably makes some sense, sometimes it takes a while for Rem to wake up too.” 

Regulus simply nodded as tears trailed down the bridge of his nose and chin before dripping onto the mattress beside you as he brought your hand to his lips.

“Thank you.” Regulus whispered. “For keeping both of them safe.”

“I made a promise, yeah?” Sirius offered, attempting to feign nonchalance but missing by a mile. “I keep my promises.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your lungs felt as though they were constructed from cement offering you no give or take as you took effortful breaths, but you were breathing nonetheless.

You were breathing.

The bubbles in your ears seemed to pop slowly with each breath, eventually allowing you to hear the gentle murmuring around you. You could hear…James, and Barty, and…

“Rem?” You croaked, wincing at the feeling of sandpaper in your throat as you tried to clear it.

“I’m here, dove. I’m right here.” He responded quickly, a gentle hand encasing yours. 

“Where-” you paused as you tried to swallow around the thickness in your throat. “Where’s Reg?” 

“I’m right here, amour.” You heard from somewhere above you; fingers brushing featherlight touches across your forehead as he moved some hairs away from your face. “Can you open your eyes?” 

You didn’t know. Could you open your eyes? You felt as though you should be able to, however, the fact that it took you as much effort as it currently did to suck in oxygen didn’t leave that too likely. 

“Come on, babylove, let us see those pretty eyes, hm?” Remus murmured as he pressed a kiss to your hand, and you decided that it was worth the try if Remus was going to speak so sweetly to you. 

“There she is, ma belle fille.” Regulus whispered as you looked up at him, currently standing at the head of your bed as he looked down at you with no shortage of adoration. 

Remus was sitting on your opposite side, no bandages or bruises as he held your hand in his, though he seemed the sort of bone deep tired that could only come from worry.

“I did it.” You murmured, causing Remus’ face to break out in an emotional smile.

“Of course you did, Treasure.” Barty sounded from somewhere at the foot of your bed. “You’re phenomenal and can do anything, there was never any doubt.”

“And I’d sooner die than let anything happen to you.” Sirius added. 

“I’m okay.” You whispered with a breath of relief. 

“Glad to hear it, because I decidedly wasn’t - leaving me alone with the likes of Barty all evening.” Regulus teased, though he seemed far more relaxed now as he perched against the edge of your bed. “Never let it happen again, okay?”

Sirius scoffed at his brother when James piped up. “Yeah well the two of you better hope for some unlikely weather then if you want an electrical storm in the middle of winter.”

You watched in perhaps a little bit of horror as a wicked smile took over Barty’s face. “Oh, don’t you worry.” He started. “There will be an electrical storm.”

And you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be exasperated, knowing damn well that if anyone was clever (and bat shit crazy) enough to fuck around with elemental magic and succeed, it would be Barty. 

“Can’t wait.” You offered with a smirk, and all six boys softened as they smiled at you.

[lesbianrobin]

ok so here is my pitch for my dream buddie catalyst:

eddie and maddie are trapped in some sort of likely-fatal time sensitive situation together (drowning related probably because it's Them) (have they overused it yes is it still thematically appropriate YES) where one person could potentially sacrifice themselves for the other to survive. i want eddie and maddie using their combined experience and ingenuity to survive together and discussing who should be prioritized which means they talk about parenthood and how they both feel they've failed their children by "running," how their lives have been so defined by trauma and they don't want to scar their children any further by leaving them again. of course they're doing everything they can to get out together, but as the situation deteriorates throughout the episode(s) (c'mon something like this could be at LEAST a two-parter) they can't help returning periodically to the world's most morbid debate.

i want buck and chim on the outside both going out of their goddamn minds. they know that eddie and maddie are stuck (wherever), know that they're probably alive, but aren't sure in what condition and if they'll stay that way. rescue operations begin as everybody walks on eggshells around buck and tries to comfort chim, who wants absolutely none of it. time is running out.

eddie says that he couldn't possibly let maddie sacrifice herself for him and look buck and chim in the eye afterwards. maddie says that she couldn't do that either. she says that at least jee-yun would still have her father, and eddie says that christopher would still have buck. maddie says that of course none of them would just abandon christopher if something were to happen to him but—

and eddie cuts her off and says it's in my will. if i die, christopher will have buck. buck will have christopher.

they just look at each other for a weighted moment. maddie makes a decision. she says ...i meant it, you know. that i couldn't let you die down here (wherever here is i don't KNOW okay i'm not here to think up convoluted emergencies i'm here for drama) and look my baby brother in the eye knowing that i could have changed it. eddie says i know, okay, but it's different, you're his sister, and maddie says, yeah, but you're his... and she pauses. and eddie says what? best friend? partner? that doesn't—

and maddie says you're his. eddie, you're his.

and eddie... i want to see something slot into place. i want to watch him understand as maddie spills everything she's been suspecting since the day that buck came out to her and maybe since before she and eddie even met. maddie says you know, when i first came to california, you were all he talked about? you're still all he talks about. you and christopher. you're his. i couldn't... eddie, you're out of your mind if you really don't think that losing you would break him just as much as losing me. he would forgive us both, because he's buck, but i couldn't... i'm no saint, eddie, i want to survive. i don't want my daughter to grow up without me. but i can't do that to him. i don't know if he'd survive it. even if he did, the guilt would eat me alive.

meanwhile. buck is barely holding on to his sanity as rescue efforts are underway and time is running out. chimney is keeping it together as best he can but there isn't much that he and buck can do. he can't let himself fall apart because buck is already a stiff breeze away from clawing his own skin off and somebody has to keep their cool. something goes wrong—suddenly, their short amount of time has gotten shorter, and they may only have enough of a window to get one out before it's too late for the other. buck, who has been ranting and arguing and screaming this whole time... is silent. he is silent, and he stares straight ahead at nothing in particular, and we know that no matter which way the scales tip, his soul will be destroyed all the same.

eddie regards maddie for a moment. grief, heartbreak, anger, all flicker over him, but what settles is determination. he says that neither of them are going to leave again. that they'll survive together, or not at all, or leave it to the universe to decide.

of course they make it out. by the skin of their teeth, they make it out, working together, clawing their way back to life and love and possibility. maddie makes it out first, and eddie sees buck as she falls into chim's waiting arms. he watches as buck sees his sister, and reaches out to take her hand with trembling fingers and white knuckles, but there is no relief, no happiness in his red-rimmed eyes. just a deep, unspeakable grief, until his eyes slide past maddie and meet eddie's.

finally: relief. and then he is in buck's arms, a perfect parallel to chim and maddie, and we see eddie's face over buck's shoulder, and we know. he is in love, and buck is in love, and eddie knows, and he sinks into his partner's embrace with joy and acceptance.

after that, who knows? maybe a grand confession. a moment of quiet understanding. a passionate post-rescue kiss. a chaste, tender kiss in some kitchen or other. maybe eddie panics later, or maybe he's found peace for once. maybe buck has realized something and he makes the first move. maybe it happens immediately. maybe it takes a while, takes discussions about how it'll affect work and christopher and whether it's worth risking all that they have for all that they want.

and maybe they'll ask whether it's even a risk at all.

[dcxdpdabbles]

In the cave boy fic, I hope Danny has to end up fighting against reanimated hot dogs (I blame the Joker) and when asked why he can fight off reanimated meat. he comments that that's a normal Tuesday in his house as his mom and dad end up reanimating dinner at least once a week, and honestly being here is the longest time he spent without having to fight against reanimated food. He loves his parents but they really need to practice better lab safety or at least stop putting the ectoplasm samples in the same fridge with the food.

This is also adjusted to the cave boy storyline before he takes out the Joker.

One morning, Brucie wakes up and decides to cook everyone breakfast since the night previous was rough for the crime fighters. Almost everyone had gotten injured in one of Riddler's games, nothing life-threatening, but they would be sore and in some cases, in casts for some time. Alfred had been the one to patch the heroes up, so even the aged butler had a rough time.

Bruice had woken before anyone, quickly frying up some sausages, making various versions of eggs (boiled, scrambled, fried, over-easy, omelets) spread out on the table for them to pick which lond they wanted. He made some oatmeal and cut up various fruit in a pretty arrangement of swans.

When the family finally dragged their tired bodies down to the table, they were all greeted by the sight of Alfred being utterly flabbergasted by the spread Bruice proudly presented. Bruicie happily has them take a seat, gathering a plate for them- not before forcing Alfred to sit at the head of the table and make Bruce move to the seat usually reserved for the Lady of the house- and cheerfully place a plate before him.

Everyone was giving each other unsure looks or staring at the plates in wonder. Even Bruce.

Because if there was one thing that was another consent in all the multiverse it was that Bruce Wayne can not cook. The closest any variate has even gotten was burned beyond recognition ash.

Yet here was an entire spread that while not the meal of kings still looked rather taste and some may even say artsty.

"Don't just sit there. Dig in!" Brucie laughs. His hair bounces around his face in an adorable helo, and the family can only stare.

"How did you do this? Is it laced with something?" Tim's voice is heavy with suspicion, which would have been an overreaction if everyone wasn't feeling the same way.

"What? No, It's just eggs, sausage and fruit. With some presentation, I guess, but this isn't hard to make," Brucie says with a hint of defensiveness. "I worked really hard on it."

"We all appricate it Brucie." Dick speaks up leveling the table with a hard look "And we will eat it no matter the taste."

Ah, that must be it. It may look editable, but indeed it would taste terrible. In fact, they wouldn't put it past a version of Bruce Wayne to cause them all to cling to a toilet with his cooking.

Knowing it best to get it over with, the Bats pick up a utensil and carefully cut a bite of eggs or sausage. They hesitate for a moment- Brucie digs in, chewing loudly and quickly through his omelet-throwing. Each other looks to wish them luck, and in one symmetrical movement, everyone eats.

It's...heavenly. It tastes as good as Alfred's food, which they thought no one could match. Before they know it, they fill their plates and go for seconds, not long afterward.

Alfred is all but glowing with paternal pride by the end.

"Young Master Brucie, I had no idea you knew how to cook and so wonderfully as well!" Aldred compliments

Brucie looks up, one piece of sausage dangling from his mouth, reminding them he had no table manners. How in the world does Alfred of his world allow that? They would never know.

Brucie swallows before grinning widely. "Thanks. I love cooking when it's not attacking me."

What?

"Come again?" Bruce asks, blinking slowly as Brucie launches into tale after tale about his food reanimating and creating armies in the family fridge to fight for their freedoms. Or just eating as quickly as possible to prevent the food from coming to life.

He jokingly points at the plate with the sausage. "We better hurry before they develop eyes."

He then just goes back to eating like nothing and the rest of the table is left horrified. Eventually, Brucie excuses himself to go watch a mind-numbing movie- because he doesn't do anything- and they rush the food down to the cave for tests.

They all panic until the results come back like usual, and they realize that he is likely just joking. They all feel bad for doubting him, all but Tim and Cass, who knew Brucie had not lied or joked.

His food honestly did come to life in his old world. They just don't know what to do with that information.

Why did Bruce have to be weird in all universes?

[loveluvrs]

not enough l max verstappen x reader

request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3

author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!

Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me. 

“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him. 

“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance. 

I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded. 

——

When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes. 

With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings. 

After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed. 

maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there? 

georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?

dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before

landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself

I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue. 

I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me. 

she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her….. 

annoying people attract annoying people ig……. 

Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……

we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing. 

I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead. 

This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me. 

He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me. 

I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up. 

“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh. 

He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”

I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly. 

I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.

I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.

“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now. 

I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.

He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place. 

Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore. 

 A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”

Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”

“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way,  you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off. 

[evie-sturns]

Matt Sturniolo Boyfriend Imagines

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warnings: NSFW near the end! mentions of anxiety, nothing else really just cute fluff

summary: cute lil imagines if you were dating matt!!

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this man’s whole camera roll would be you, he’d take pictures of you whenever he thought you looked cute and would sometimes set them as his phone wallpaper

he would 100% buy you whatever you wanted, you need a new bag? he will have it sitting on your bed in under an hour, he loooves to spend money on you to show how much he loves you

you would def have to be the person in the relationship who says “i love you” first because he’s shy and doesn’t know how to tell you/doesn’t know when the right time is and doesn’t want to scare you off

he doesn’t show it but he definitely loves resting on your chest and being held by you when you two fall asleep together 😭, but he definitely also loves to hold you and cuddle you

he makes absolute DISASTERS in the kitchen but he serves them up proudly and you have to pretend it’s good - “here we are baby! finally finished the dinner”… “oh matt it looks awesome! but what are those, uh.. clumps?”

when he has anxiety attacks he shuts down and locks himself in the bathroom to calm down, so you just have to knock softly on the door and wait outside until he’s ready to let you into the bathroom to comfort him and calm him down as you guys just sit on the bathroom floor

if your ever struggling or sad this man gets INSANELY touchy, like he will come over to your house and just lightly rub your thy and back, or trace circles on your forearms. whatever he can do to let you know he’s here and listening he will do.

if you two get into an argument he will always apologise first no matter who’s in the wrong, like he will show up to your front door with puffy eyes holding a bunch of flowers and you have no choice but to forgive him, like how couldn’t you with him looking in your eyes for forgiveness as his hand shakes

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NSFW!

the first time you two hook up with each other he would definitely praise you and guide you through it the whole time, he would maintain some of his self control and go gently so he doesn’t hurt you

he hates choking/rough hair pulling because he wants to make sure you aren’t being hurt or uncomfortable so he makes sure to only hold your hair sosososo gently

after you guys have fucked a few times he would establish a safe word, and as soon as you have one he would go crazy when you guys are fucking, he would 100% slam into you when he’s getting close but then feel guilty after as he looks at your shaking legs spread across the bed

this man is the literal definition of aftercare, after he fucks you hard he would rub your back and tell you how good you took him, and he would carry you bridal style to the restroom and lay you down in the bath, grab a warm damp towel and gently rub the insides of your legs gently and check that your okay “are you sure i didn’t go to hard? did i hurt you baby?”

he would defo PANIC if he accidentally cums inside of you, even if you were on birth control he’s super afraid of getting you pregnant, you would have to assure him hundreds of times that it’s okay 😭😭

after he cleans you up after sex he would bathe you, dress you, and put you in bed, he wants to make sure your comfortable and satisfied afterwards, then he would hold you tight as he crawls into bed beside you and give you more words of affirmation “you took me so well baby” “you did so good” “i’m so proud of you sweetheart” as he rubs the inside of your thigh

if you got on top he would instantly switch to sub as he watches you bounce on him, like this man would me whining, groaning, whimpering mess as he digs his hands into your waist to guide you up and down

that’s all!! y’all lmk if you want a chris version:)