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f0point5 · 2 days

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I think I have sent this same request some time ago but I still would like you to write something about Emilia and Max hanging out with Victoria’s children and maybe thinking about their own future kids. But really anything with Max and Emilia would be great!

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one, but tumblr eats asks sometimes 🤷‍♀️ but it’s too cute so here you go! I am keeping these short but I hope you still enjoy it!

✨Set during summer break 2024✨

I’m having his baby (…) no, I’m not

You take a sip of your rosé as Victoria comes to stand beside you. You’re lurking in the doorway of the lounge, watching Max sitting on the couch with his baby niece in his arms. He’s bobbing her in a gentle motion, his hands looking huge around her tiny, swaddled body.

“God, I remember when we used to say our kids would get married,” Vic says beside you, and you laugh.

You did say that. As little kids you would wish to be sisters, and somehow the only way you could think to make that happen would be for your children to marry each other. Like in that Flintstones movie you used to love. You’d draw pictures of the two of you sitting on the porch of a large house, watching your children get married.

Now you wonder if your mums thought the same, during those summers in Italy, as they watched you all play. They swear now that they did, that the mother’s intuition told them you and Max were tied together by some invisible chord that chafed on both your wrists. “A mother always knows,” Sophie said to you when she saw you last, “you will know, too”.

“And now that would be illegal and dangerous for our grandkids,” you say, shaking your head. “Crazy,”

“I like it better this way,” Victoria says, putting her arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into a hug.

“Me, too,” you agree, your eyes fixed on Max and Hailey. He’s whispering to her in Dutch, her eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as she yawns in his face, which only makes him smile. He’s utterly mesmerised by her. And you’re mesmerised by him.

I swear I can actually feel my ovaries right now.

“He’s so good with kids,” Vic says. “Even with Jaye I remember he was so gentle,”

“Yeah,” you agree, only half hearing her as you take another sip.

“Gives you baby fever, huh?”

You choke on your wine. Was that Victoria or your subconscious talking?

Vic, are you in here? No, of course she’s not in here. She’s just being nosey. Act natural.

“Are you okay?” Max asks from the couch. You look over at him as you wipe your mouth, coughing once as you nod. Even as he looks at you in concern, he never stops the gentle bouncing motion of the baby in his arms.

You go to answer, but Vic beats you to it, blunt as ever. “I was just saying, you will be having one of your own soon, yeah?” She smiles, nodding at Hailey.

If Max is panicking as much as you, he doesn’t show it, just shrugging. “I mean, ye-“ You can feel your eyes widen, and he stops when he sees your face. He tries again. “May-“ he frowns at you, silently begging for help. “No?” You nod gently, and Max turns to Victoria. “No.”

She looks at you in mild disbelief. “No?”

“No,” you emphasise to both Verstappens.

You love them dearly but genetics are a crazy thing - they both share a chronic disregard for timing. They want it all, and they want it now, in any order, all order be damned.

“You’re not getting any younger,” Victoria says, nudging you.

“That is just rude,” you tell her, and she just smiles unapologetically.

“Oh, come on,” she implores, reaching up to wind her finger around a lock of your hair, “a little baby with Max’s eyes and your hair?”

“And both of our tempers,” you say with a chuckle. “Can you imagine that? Besides, we can barely make cereal, and you want us to raise a baby?”

You look at Max for support, but he’s no longer paying attention. He’s looking down at his niece like he’s holding water.

Maybe a baby can live on cereal, if her dad looks at her like that.

“I’m going to go put Hailey down for her nap,” Vic says, jerking you from your thoughts.

She goes over to take a sleepy Hailey from Max’s arms, and he looks loathe to let her go. She looks so much bigger when held by her mother, and her so much more fragile.

“When I get back, we can start on dinner. I’m going to make cereal,” Vic teases in a whisper, winking at you as she passes.

Max snorts with laughter, and you shoot Vic a glare as she starts to hum, shuffling her way out of the lounge towards the bedroom.

You join Max on the couch, falling onto it beside him with a heavy sigh.

“So glad I’m an only child,” you say, rolling your eyes. When Max doesn’t respond, you glance over at him to find him staring at his hands. You nudge him gently. “What?”

“You do,” he starts, leaning back as he turns to you. “Want kids, someday, don’t you?With me. I mean…you don’t think I’ll be, like…”

“No,” you answer quickly, when you understand what he’s getting at.

You silently curse yourself for that joke about tempers. For ever making him think that’s something you worry about. You know there’s a heaviness in Max, in both of you. You know that he is so much more than his father’s son. But you also know that the weight on his shoulders will keep him crooked until he can see that for himself. You hope knowing you see it will be enough for now.

“I want your baby, Max. Someday. There’s no one else I would ever do this with besides you and not just because I love you, but because I know you’ll be an amazing dad,” you tell him honestly, and even that small platitude seems to relax his shoulders. “But can we at least get to one year of baby making activities before we start painting a nursery?”

Max nods, letting out a husk of a laugh. “I’m shit at painting anyway,” he says, looking at you from under those eyelashes that you secretly envy.

Maybe she’ll inherit those, too.

“Free practice?” You offer with a smirk, holding your hand for his.

Max looks at your outstretched palm for a moment before taking your hand in his. “Free practice,” he agrees, using his grip on your hand to pull you forward so that your chest is pressed against his. “I’m looking forward to FP2 later,”

#max verstappen x reader

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pjflmga · 2 days

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little things, alessia russo x reader

summary: based on little things by one direction (big fan yup) where r is a bit insecure about certain things and alessia makes sure to let r know she loves everything about r.

a/n: just smth random i came up w while i’m writing on chicago p2 bc i’m currently stuck lol. wrote this in the middle of the night so don’t mind eventual mistakes… send in recs if you want to :)

wc: 2,3k ish

enjoyy

—————————————————————

you and alessia had been together for a long time now, with your 2 years anniversary coming up in only a few weeks. you loved doing things together, watching movies or series, going out for a walk or shopping. literally anything

football might be your biggest shared interest though, whether it was watching a game or playing it. but it was not hard to see who was playing professionally and who played in a normal sunday league.

alessia played football for a living, her days consisted of training on and off the pitch and of course football games against big, top teams, weekly. whereas you were working as a chef at a restaurant and only had training 2-3 times a week plus a game on the weekends.

despite the big difference of professionalism you played in, you both were each others biggest fan and supporter. you were at all arsenal’s home games and even some away games if possible, and alessia was at yours. of course if you or her didn’t have your own game at the same time, which occasionally happened.

alessia never looked down at you for not being a professional footballer, rather the other way around. she was happy and proud that you got to the two things you loved the most, cooking food during the days and playing football in the evenings. but even if alessia never had an opinion about this, didn’t mean you nor especially the fans highlighted this at times.

as you were the girlfriend of the top player and front face of the lionesses and arsenal, people didn’t shy away from sharing their ignorant opinions. when alessia saw a rude comment about you she would always delete it, before she read half of it and especially before you got the chance to even know about it. but since you were together with alessia, you had around 30k followers on instagram yourself and a lot of the ignorant comments ended up in your comment section as well.

you knew you shouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but read every single negative comment about you. it was everything from you using alessia for her being famous and having a lot of money, to not being good enough for her and being an ugly and bad person. the comments about you only “using” her didn’t really bother you, as you and not to mention, alessia knew that it wasn’t true. but it was rather the comments about you being too ugly, or not that a good enough person for her that made you feel like the smallest person on earth.

this had been going on ever since you got together and the public eye found out about it. at first it didn’t bother you, but as time went on it started to get to you. the blonde and you had talked about it before, but even if you weren’t, you always made sure to say that you were fine.

as of lately alessia had started to notice that you were feeling a bit more tired and down than usually. at first she thought it was because of your job and how hectic it was. but she shortly after realised it was because of all comments on social media.

and with that she started to make more efforts than usually to make you feel as special and loved as you deserved, not to mention how she felt about you.

————————————

as a person in general, you were a bit insecure about yourself. you didn’t like certain things with your body or the way you looked.

as time passed alessia started to figure out more of your small insecurities, how every time she tried to make a short video with you, you always stayed quiet because you didn’t like the way your voice sounded on camera.

how you never got changed in front of her, despite being together for a long, long time. because you didn’t like how your stomach or thighs looked. she obviously had seen you without clothes before, but it was different when you changed and got dressed. it made you feel more conscious about the way you looked, in a way you didn’t like and therefore didn’t want alessia to see.

but also how you recently had stopped coming along to nights out and dinners with her team, because you were insecure or what other people would think. despite alessia always telling you how much the team loved you and wanted you there.

alessia knew these things made you insecure, but these were also the things she loved about you the most. the way you looked, the way you were, the way you smiled and laughed. your voice, your body. everything.

at first she didn’t want these little things to slip out, in case it made you more insecure. but she quickly realised the best way to make you feel more comfortable and confident, was to bring your insecurities up, subtly and in a reassuring way, one by one.

every time you smiled you got small crinkles by your eyes and for some reason fans started to point that out, together with your freckled cheeks. alessia didn’t understand, as she thought those were two of the cutest things about you, but you hated them.

now when she started to see the comments more often, she realised that was the reason why you started to cover your freckles up with makeup, and at least try to smile less. not that it really worked when you were with alessia, who stumbled around and laughed all the time.

“babe, you’re so beautiful today.” alessia said as the two of you got ready to head out for a little walk in the park. “why are you putting on makeup? you’re just as beautiful without it.” she smiled softly.

“i dunno.” you mumbled. “don’t really like my freckles.” you said lowly. with that alessia walked up behind you, where you sat by the desk in your shared bedroom, and hugged you tightly from behind.

“you.” kiss. “are.” kiss. “more.” kiss. “beautiful”. kiss. “than.” kiss. “anyone.” kiss. “else. ” kiss. “in.” kiss. “the.” kiss. “world.” the blonde said as she kissed you freckles.

“stoppp less, you’re ruining my makeup.” you said, but couldn’t help but feeling a smile creeping up in the corner of your mouth.

“nooo!!” she said. “i’m just making sure your natural beauty is showing.” she continued as she bombed kisses on you again. you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “there’s the beautiful smile of yours.” alessia said simply.

it took you another 20 minutes to get ready before your headed out. instantly when you stepped out of the port of your stairwell, alessia grabbed you hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“you know, your hands fits perfectly in mine.” the striker said softly.

“what do you mean less?” you asked confused, not quite catching what she meant.

“i don’t know, i just know it feels perfect to hold it in my hand.” she smiled with a chuckle. you nodded slowly, still not getting where she came from. but it was something with the way she had said it while squeezing your hand, that made you feel good. you felt yourself being thrown out of your thoughtss as alessia pulled you with her and started to walk towards the park, while babbling about her upcoming game against liverpool this weekend.

when you stopped in the middle of the park by a big tree alessia suggested that the two of you should make a tiktok together. a video where you’d have to rank her arsenal teammates.

“no i can’t do that.” you said with a laugh. “they’re gonna kill me.”

“noo, babe!! it’ll be fun, they will love it.” she laughed as she pulled up her phone.

“okay, just because i love you. but don’t post it!! i don’t uh, want people to hear my- to see what my ranking.” you said quietly.

“oh y/n, it’ll be fine. everyone will laugh at how pissed leah will be when she sees she’s not your number one.” alessia chuckled. “besides, everyone should get to hear that beautiful voice of yours when you explain your rankings.” she continued, subtly mentioning yet another insecurity. you instantly felt yourself relaxing a little when she said that. to be honest you hadn’t really realised that you had tensed up in the first place.

“let’s do this then, less.” you said as you grabbed her phone and started the ranking.

——————————

“i can’t believe you were about to put frida at number one.” alessia said with a grunt as you finished.

“well she is just the best, isn’t she?” you asked with a smile.

“well… no. i am supposed to be there, i swear if you weren’t with me right now, you would’ve put her as your number 1.” alessia answered with a unhappy voice.

“nooo babe, i’d never do that!!” you laughed. “you are obviously my number one!”

“and so are you y/n/n! you are my forever number one and i love you and everything about you.” the blonde said softly as she gave hugged you and kissed your cheek. “let’s post this and see how the girls reacts.” she continues as she posted the video.

just then she got a message from leah in the arsenal group chat, asking who’d be joining for dinner aka ordering food, and movie night at her place tomorrow night. a flood of “yes” and “me” came right away when alessia looked at you.

“you want to go?” she asked hopefully.

“uh i don’t know, don’t want to intrude your team bonding night.” you said lowly.

“no y/n babe, first you could never do that. the girls have been asking if you won’t being joining anytime soon anyways. and besides, it’s just movie night tmrw.” alessia explained as she took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“well, okay then i guess.” you said.

“YESSSS!!!” the england forward squealed as she sent a quick “me and y/n are coming!” to the group chat and right away an even bigger flood of “yes!”, “wohoo” and “finally” came.

as tomorrow evening eventually came around, you and the blonde got ready together. since it was just movie night and leah’s, you wouldn’t dress up fancy. so you grabbed a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt as you headed towards your bathroom to get changed. but before you managed to take a step alessia grabbed your arm and hugged you tightly.

“you know i don’t mind you changing clothes in front of me.” she said softly as she hugged you tighter.

“i know, it’s just uh me. i don’t know, it’s stupid. of course i should be able to change in front of my girlfriend of almost two years.” you said while you let go of alessia to look into her eyes.

“baby, it’s not stupid the way you feel. i just want you to know that i love you and i love every single thing about you. i love your eyes, your smile, how you look and oh my god, have you seen your body?” she said softly and you can’t help but smile a little. “if you don’t feel comfortable to change in front of me, i won’t stop you. but i want you to feel comfortable with me, no matter what. i don’t care what other people say or think and you shouldn’t either. because you are more perfect than anyone else. okay?” alessia continued.

all you could do was just stare at your girlfriends. you realised where she was coming from with all of this, but to be honest, it made you feel better. she was right, the only opinion you really cared about was hers, and you knew how much she loved you.

“i know, i just feel so self conscious and insecure sometimes. i wish i didn’t but i can’t help but being affected by it.” you answered.

“you know love, those things you are self conscious about, are some of the things i love the most you.” she said as she once again gave you one of her famous “lessi bear hugs”.

“yeah i know less, thank you so much.” you said hugging her back. after some time you finally let go of each other and you felt truly safe and loved by the striker. you took a deep breath and actually felt comfortable enough to change in front of your girlfriend.

all alessia could do was looking at you with the proudest smile ever. she was happy that her little side mission had worked out the way she wanted to, that you felt better about yourself and also felt more comfortable around her.

what took her by surprise though was that you for the first time in a long, long time didn’t cover up your freckles with makeup. all you did was curling your eyelashes and put on some mascara. alessia once again looked at you with the biggest and proudest smile as well as heart eyes. oh, that girl was head over heels for you.

“you’re so beautiful, my girl.” alessia said with a grin.

when you 20 minutes later arrived at leah’s house and went to knock on the door, it was instantly opened by a not super happy looking leah.

“how dare you not put as number 1 and not even number 2, but 3 on your list, miss?” she said while giving you a stern look, but you could hear the teasing in her voice.

“told you…” alessia whispered in your ear lowly, with a laugh. “i’ll leave the two of you to figure this out.” she continued and walked into great the rest of the team.

“well hello to you too leah…” you laughed. “i guess i just don’t love you as much as less.”

“okay that’s fair BUT YOU PUT FRIDA OVER ME??” leah shouted.

“well, if it makes you feel any better, i almost put frida above lessi. but then i wouldn’t have had a place to sleep in.” you laughed.

after some back and forth you finally settled on a fair ranking where, spoilers, leah ended up as your number 1. then leah finally let you into her house and let you in with a happy smile over a face so you could greet the other arsenal players there.

the night was amazing, just what you needed. you felt safe around alessia and her teammates and you didn’t feel like you were in the way and disturbing them. they made you laugh all the time, and now the crinkles by your eyes didn’t bother you anymore.

even if alessia’s mission was accomplished, she didn’t stop reminding you how much she loved you. everything about you. that the little things you were subconscious about, made you to the amazing person that you were and the person alessia loved so much.

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slayfics · 2 days

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Katsuki breaks up with you.

1k words

Katsuki hands shook, as he let out a shaken breath. Running his hands over his face, before returning them to resting on his knees. His eyes fixated on the floor never once looking up at you.

“Katsuki, what is it?” You asked softly.

Katsuki leg shook at your question. Elbow moving to his knee as he placed his chin in his palm. Never moving his gaze.

It wasn’t a secret to you that a rift had come between you and Katsuki. The past few months he seemed to be drifting further and further away. Still, you kept your wits about you. Maintaining your same routine, loving affection, and undying patience for him.

It’s a phase, you told yourself. Even the best relationships have their ups and downs. You’d come back stronger than ever in no time, you were sure of it... But then an ominous text came.

[Katsuki] Can we talk tonight?

Now he sat on your couch in a state you’d never seen before. His eyes started to gloss over as his mouth slightly parted, still finding the right words.

“I don’t know how to say this shit,” he grumbled, and you heard the crack in his voice.

“Just tell me Kats, whatever it is we can work through it,” you said quietly.

At that, the gloss in his eyes formed into full tears. The room is so quiet the soft drops of tears seem to echo.

“You know I love you right?” he asked, glancing over slightly at you before looking at the wall. He couldn’t handle the expression on your face. You had to know it was coming. Your body looked like it was braced for a shock. Hands gripping at your seat so tight your knuckles were white.

“Of course, I love you too Katsuki…” you whispered, the lump in your throat forming. This wasn’t what you thought this was- was it?

“That’s why… I can’t lie to you anymore,” he said, wiping the tears from his face.

You had so many questions but felt paralyzed in your spot. Lie to you? What could that mean?

“It’s… not fucking fair to you and…,” Katsuki threw his head back on the couch, both hands covering his face.

“Katsuki please just tell me…”

“I’m trying,” he grumbled more tears forming, voice unrecognizable.

“Did you… find someone else?” You finally managed to ask, mouth drying out, ear ringing from the intensity in the room.

“No. I mean… not in the way you’re thinking,” Katsuki said, sitting back up.

“I don’t understand Katsuki.” You said, heart squeezing. What could he mean?

“I… fuck. Look I’ve come to some realizations recently. It’s been hard… and I…,” Katsuki broke off, legging shaking faster than before. No matter how hard he tried there just weren’t the right words for this situation.

“Please… tell me so I can be there for you,” you urged.

A final sigh left his chest deflating, “I’m not straight.”

“Oh.”

The room froze.

Your eyes darted from side to side as you processed. Katsuki stayed silent and no longer moved. 'Oh' isn’t what someone wants to hear when they come out, but he knew couldn’t expect you to be supportive when he’d just shattered your heart, the vision of your future with him. All gone.

Tears left and he didn’t care if you felt you needed space, he needed to comfort you.

“Come here,” he pulled you to him wrapping his arms around you he cradled you in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered forehead pressed to you. Both of you wept.

He squeezed you and you tried to gather the thoughts racing through you. Trying to catch one and make sense of it. He’d been going through this alone for how long?

“You’ve been struggling with this alone?” you asked, hiccupping back tears.

“Don’t- don’t worry about me,” he demanded. “I just- betrayed you. Be mad at me.”

“Katsuki,” you cooed, placing a gentle hand on his face. Thumb brushing away tears. “You could never betray me by living authenticity.”

Tears flowed freely, how could you be so kind and understanding to him? He pressed a caring kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t deserve that,” he muttered.

“Of course you do.” You said silencing his self-hatred.

“You know I’d still do anything for you right? I’m not disappearing. I’m going to look out for you, the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll always be your biggest fan,” you replied resting your head on his chest.

He rocked you both, moments passed, and tears subsided.

The lingering question becomes too strong to hold back. “Is it Eijiro?” You asked.

How were you so perspective, Katsuki wondered. He didn’t answer but squeezed you tighter, “I didn’t cheat on you, I promise. I’m sorry I just… need to figure this out.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” you said relaxing more into him, “and please stop apologizing Kats.”

He mumbled into your hair, chin resting on your head. “I hate myself for hurting you, I- never wanted to do that.”

“You could never hurt me by being happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” You replied.

“Don’t lie. I fucked this all up. You’ve- got to be hurting don’t hold back,” he pressed. His stomach twisted. The masochist parts of himself wanted you to hate him. It’s what he deserved for throwing away all the hard work you put into him.

“Of course, I’m hurting, and I will for a while. But- I’ll be ok. And anyway, what’s the alternative? Keeping you in a relationship you’re not satisfied with? I love you far too much to wish that for you,” you said picking up his hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“You’re still the best thing that’s happened to me,” he whispered. “I… don’t think I could have been this honest with myself if it wasn’t for your unconditional affection. So… let me at least take care of you tonight. Make your favorite meal. Whether else you want. I owe you that much.”

“You aren’t in my debt Katsuki but, I’ll never say no to your cooking.” You answered a small smile tugging your lips.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay @my-beloved-fandoms

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bxeckersz · 1 day

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Broken Promises | Caitlin clark x fem! reader

warnings: toxic rls, language, cheating, caitlin being a master manipulator

summary: cait and y/n being toxic idk

A/N: thought abt this during class and its ass cause i havent wrote in so long

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Caitlin i’m sick of this!” you yell, pacing around the living room as she just stood there looking stupid. You and caitlin have had the same repeating cycle for 3 years.

For three years you guys would argue, she’d walk out, you’d break up, she’d apologize, you’d have makeup sex, you’d get back together, and the cycle would repeat. It’s tiring.

you guys got in another argument after you went through caitlin’s phone and found out she’d been hooking up with some girl for a while.

“let me explain” She exhales out. “Explain for what Caitlin? What do you have to explain? I’ve seen it all! All those ‘late night practices’?” you shout at her. the neighbors could for sure hear us because of how loud you were yelling.

She’d been playing you like a fool. She would tell you she’d have “late night practices” or “media shit” and she’d really be fucking some slut.

“You’re out fucking some random girl while i’m at home going to bed alone, caitlin! Every night!” you yell at her, tears stifling down your face.

“Bro, let me talk” She sighs, covering her face with her large palms.

“No! You don’t get to talk anymore! Do you know what i’ve sacrificed for you? Hell- i’ve lost friends- family members have stopped talking to me because i moved to Indiana with you! it was all for you! everything. and this- this is what i get in return?”

“Okay, and what, I haven’t sacrificed shit for you?” She yells back at you.

you scoff, pushing past her and walking into the room. “Hey- don’t walk away. baby-“ She sighs.

“I’m done with you! for good! your not gonna keep playing with my heart- your not gonna keep treating me like this! You don’t even care- you’re never here anymore!” you sob, covering my face.

“Hey-hey- please don’t cry baby. please- let’s talk this out.. it’s not what it looks like i swear- she’s just a friend. you can even ask Aliyah,” She pleads, her voice cracking as she wraps her arms around your waist from behind.

“Yeah right. friend my ass.” you scoff, wiggling out her hold. “Baby- she’s really just a friend. nothing more, nothing less. i don’t want anyone but you, y/n. I can’t lose you. please- just let me explain.” She cracks.

You sigh, biting your bottom lip, tasting the saltiness from your tears. Your eyes were puffy and red from all the crying, your clothes soaked in tears.

You knew she was lying- you knew deep, deep down she was lying, but it sounded so genuine. And so- you found yourself naked- tangled in her embrace for the billionth time.

For weeks everything had been good. She was coming home on time, her phone was clean of anything suspicious-she dedicated all her time to you. Until- she didn’t.

she started coming home late again, she stopped giving you access to her phone- and worst of all- she came home with a small hickey on her right upper thigh.

she told you it was just lexie playing around with her makeup- but why was it so high up? and of course- you didnt press the issue because she did everything she could to make you stay.

It was 1:36 am and Caitlin still hadn’t returned home. you found yourself on the couch- the tv and the small overhead oven light being the inly source of light.

You made dinner after Caitlin told you she’d be home early. the food you made had been freezing cold the candles you lit being blew out ages ago.

You sighed, that familiar lump in your throat forming as you stormed into the room. You swiped your side of the room of everything, grabbing bags and suitcases. You began stuffing the various items into the bag, making sure you left nothing behind.

For 3 years, all you did was love and support that girl. and she couldn’t even give you a dinner in response.

You stormed to the closet, grabbing everything of yours. you had everything of yours packed. You slipped on your shoes, making sure you left your side nice and clean. You then made your way into the bathroom, collecting your belongings.

Once the whole house was cleared from your belongings, you grabbed your phone and blocked caitlin on everything. You grabbed your car keys off the hook, walking out the complex door.

you loaded everything in your car before calling your mom. You were done with caitlin- officially.

she played with you way too much.

“Im on my way to your house” You cried as your mom picked up the phone. “what happened? why’re you crying? calm down” she jumbled out. “I’ll explain later” You mumbled, words muffled by your cries.

“Just be careful on the road- love you” She says, her voice full of worry.

had you made the right choice??

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thanks for reading all the way through!

might do a pt 2 to this w caits pov

felt good to write again lowk also ts is not spell checked or nun so

#caitlin clark fanfic #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #basketball #indiana fever #wnba basketball #ncaa wbb #wlw #wlw post #iowa wbb #wnba #lexie hull #bxeckersz

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crimson-and-clover-1717 · 1 day

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The problem with reading Ed’s nod as ‘dub-con’ is the idea that consent is an event. It isn’t. It’s ongoing and can be withdrawn at any time. The nod was for us. But behind the curtain, both Ed and Stede are looking for and giving ongoing consent. What they want, what they don’t want. We are shown over and over that Stede is extremely respectful of Ed’s boundaries. We are shown that Ed is confident to assert those boundaries. Had Ed wanted to stop at any point, he knew he could do so safely. As could Stede.

Dubious consent is when an individual consents to sex because they are afraid of the repercussions if they don’t, and know they are not safe to withdraw that consent should they wish to. It’s about power imbalance. If Ed had said no, would he have been beaten up, starved, thrown off the ship, ostracised, assaulted, or watched Stede find someone else to have sex with? Would Stede have sulked and name-called, belittled and bullied? There is no power imbalance here. If there is, it’s slightly in Ed’s favour. He’s far more sexually experienced despite neither being romantically so. All of this is new to Stede. He’s going to need guidance and love and support making love to a man for the first time.

Do you know what might be classed as dubious consent? The sexual relationship between Stede and Mary. Both forced to perform within a heteronormative marriage to produce an heir as part of the hereditary principle of noblesse oblige. Mary states ‘we never would’ve chosen each other’. I’m not suggesting sex between them was abusive in any way, but they were forced to consent to a marriage they didn’t want, and therefore forced to consent to sex with a person they didn’t wish to, within the system they found themselves in. And to not do so carried consequences. That, perhaps, is your dubious consent.

None of this is true for Ed and Stede. Regret (and Ed doesn’t regret it, he’s scared) the next morning does not equal dub con the night before. Stede is devastated to even consider that Ed might regret what happened. The idea he would or could coerce Ed into sexual activity he didn’t want goes against everything we know of Stede’s character. It’s actually insulting to people who find themselves in domestic violence situations in which they do consent to sex they don’t want out of fear. Honestly, if you think Stede Bonnet is capable of that level of manipulation of the person he loves to the core of his being, or that Ed is capable of being manipulated in that way, you are not watching the same show I am; and frankly, I don’t know why you’re watching it at all.

#stede bonnet #ed teach #gentlebeard #life is messy #relationships are messy #ofmd

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plutonium-sky · 2 days

Text

AIGHT HERE WE GO.

So! About the revelation I mentioned with WL and Eden statues- I’m going to give some context first. Me and @halcyon-xxy-art were discussing some Sky DND stuff, and then had an interesting idea- what if there was light corruption, alongside dark corruption?

We immediately establish dark corruption as the crystalized bodies, with the soul (light) trapped inside. The thing is, we wanted to make it so that there wasn’t any weakening of their light- it’s just that there is more darkness. After that got put out, we started thinking about what light corruption would look like, and Aria basically perfectly described a Winged Light. That’s when I had my revelation. What if Winged Lights are sky kids who got light overflow?

I’ll elaborate on that in a bit when I establish another fact we put out right after. Skykid DO have darkness inside them. It’s just hidden in a way no one would expect- it’s right in front of us. A skykid’s darkness would be their physical Body. And, if we go by that logic, their light would be everything else that the body holds- their light and Soul.

And then we added more to the corruption parts. Darkness corruption would work that the soul is trapped inside the body- and cannot return to Megabird (it would slowly weaken inside, losing its power bit by bit as the overbearing darkness drains it.) Light corruption was easy to figure out from there as well. The soul doesn’t have a body to guide it back to the cycle (it had burnt it away, and now the soul is horribly exposed, frozen in time, until a new, temporary vessel guides it back to freedom.)

The skykid’s body needs to walk alongside a delicate balance of light and dark, lest things go to SHIT for them. Too much light will result in being corrupted and overloaded by it, and the body will burn and flake away and the soul be frozen in time and space without the body to guide it back to the cycle. Too much darkness will slow them down, overtake them, eventually turning the skykid into an immovable statue, the soul covered on all sides, and it’s now trapped in a cage of its own making.

Also, absorbing WL (the lost souls of someone else) benefits us instead of harming us because all the overloaded light is still being taken by the other’s soul, not yours. Of course, a little still leaks through- and that’s why it makes flying easier. It’s a sort of…. symbiotic relationship, where the sky kid gives the soul a temporary vessel for it to rest in, while the soul helps the vessel, benefitting it as safely as it can. It takes more WL the longer you have to fly for safety concerns- if they keep on sharing the same amount of energy, the light corruption will happen once more, to a new victim, and now there will be two souls trapped beside each other.

Also, the body and soul theory is further supported by sky kids extinguishing. NORMALLY, we don’t grow crystals. By normally I mean stuff like rain and non-shard crabs. That would be a “normal” death- we aren’t corrupted, the soul and body are still in balance. There’s the pity WL too- you can still be saved. For lore reasons, I’m going to partially ignore the fact that you would still get a pity WL if you lost all of yours to a krill, shard, or shard crabs, because let’s be honest- it’s just ingame things. And, if my memory serves my right (I can’t play sky at the moment to check properly), you would grow crystals for all of those deaths- corrupted by darkness.

There’s then Eden. We run around, giving WL to the lost to darkness bodies of sky kids- or perhaps spirits. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. But, what matters is that somehow, this works in freeing them. My theory for how is that the light corrupted and overloaded soul helps balance out the dark corrupted body, sharing its light with the trapped soul inside. By the point we find the eden bodies, though, the souls are so weakened that they’re barely there- my explanation as to why we don’t see double the winged lights in orbit. They need time to recover.

The last nail in the coffin for this theory, to me, is the cutscene in eden that happens when we finally lose all of our winged light and become a statue ourselves. Where we fall in darkness, as a dark figure, then land. The light and dark of our being in a limbo meet. The light (soul) is sitting there, unmoving, trapped. Meanwhile, us, as the darkness (body) moves, going back to the light, to guide them back. This supports my “the light and soul cannot be guided without the darkness of their body” talk- because it IS the body guiding the soul here. It frees us.

TLDR? Skykids aren’t only light- they are also darkness. The light is their soul and the dark is their body. Without a body, lost because of various reasons (the one I gave is being overloaded/corrupted by light), the soul is trapped and we see this ingame as Winged Light. This creates a delicate balance where there can’t be too much light or too much dark in the soul and body. When you are corrupted by darkness, the soul gets trapped but it is still there. A normal death for a sky kid is when no crystals grow on their body. Eden statues are helped with WL because the overloaded darkness and the overloaded light balance each other out.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, hope it lived up to your expectations.

#pluto talks #sky cotl #sky cotl lore #sky lore #my sky lore #pluto rambles #sky: children of the light #sky:cotl #sky children of the light #winged light #THIS IS NEARLY 1000 WORDS GUYS. JUST LIKE. 40 WORDS AWAY #if anyone has any corrections or other additions or thoughts PLEASE ADD #all of this was made from 12 am- 2 am

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lexithwrites · 3 days

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jegulus with trans James headcanons??

Oooo I love trans James too, v underrated headcanon

- if regulus was cis I feel like he’d still be extremely gay and he goes to queer events in his town with Sirius and that’s how he meets James

- he hasn’t had top yet but like the slut he is (affectionate) he walks around with his binder on and some sweats and regulus is just drooling

- testosterone did amazing things for his jawline and back definition too Oof regulus wants to climb him like a tree

- also trans James has the potential for them to be either the same height or taller regulus and hehehehehe I love it, James likes looking up at this hot, mysterious, grumpy nerd and flirting with him

- James tries to act like his sex drive hasn’t gone up because he doesn’t wanna scare regulus off but reg is all for it

- when they first start dating James is always trying to impress him with his clothing and like wants to be super masculine but reg just thinks he’s hot in whatever he wears (the suits are a plus)

- they go to so many drag shows together and bars and clubs and they’re just in their own little queer lovely bubble

- deciding who tops and who bottoms is a bit of a challenge bevause neither of them knows what they’d prefer

- they try both

- James bottoms first and reg is kinda nervous because he’s had one boyfriend and was the bottom but James assures him he’ll do so good and he’s wanted this since they met

- reg is,,,very good with his tongue (james’ voice does get a little higher and it makes reg rock hard)

- they’re both very open about their likes and dislikes, in and out of the bedroom, they’re great communicators

- James is also fiercely protective of regulus because a lot of gay/bisexual men will approach him and he’s like ‘nope he’s mine’ and will just kiss him

- regulus is very helpful when it comes to dysphoria, I feel like James hates his chest but can’t afford surgery rn and regulus is always telling him that he’s handsome no matter what, that he’s HIS man no matter what

- effie and Monty are always nervous when they meet james’ partners because they don’t want their son to be taken advantage of or used so they’re kinda tough on reg at first but they warm up to him almost immediately and realise he’s the most supportive partner James has had

- james’ parents have trans and pride flags outside their house too, they’re the best ally’s

- when James does get surgery regulus is there every step of the way, he stays in the hospital the entire time and when he wakes up he covers his face in kisses and brings him flowers and helps him home, he cleans him and makes sure he’s got enough pain killers, he’s very attentive

#the marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #mail

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padfootagain · 2 days

Text

Love in Verses (XII)

Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2527

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986

You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.

You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.

That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.

You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…

What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?

You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.

“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.

You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.

“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”

“We should ruin the champagne.”

“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”

“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”

“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”

“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”

“Perfect.”

“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”

“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”

“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.

“Because we love them.”

His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…

You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.

And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…

“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.

“I loved it.”

“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”

“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”

Andrew nodded.

“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”

You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.

“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”

He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…

“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”

You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…

“Thank you.”

His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.

You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”

“You’re not.”

You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.

“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”

“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”

You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.

You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.

“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…

You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”

Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.

“Tell me something silly,” he requested.

“Something silly?”

“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”

“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”

“Fair enough.”

You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.

And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.

Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.

You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.

“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”

You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.

“How did you pay him back?”

“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”

You were hysterical at that point.

“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”

You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.

And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.

Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…

He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…

There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…

… and then your lips were on his.

You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.

When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.

Dizzy with him…

“Y/N?”

The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…

He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.

Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…

“Erm… You… you kissed me.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.

“You… I mean… We…”

You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.

“Wait… what’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.

You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…

Holy…

“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.

“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”

Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…

“Frank and Samantha…” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”

He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.

“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”

He looked at his watch.

“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”

You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.

“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”

“I can take a uber.”

“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”

Slowly, he nodded.

You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.

What the fuck was that?

#hozier #the hoziest #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier fic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 22 hours

Text

Gold Rush

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Teen. Summary: It's the day after your husband left you, Dieter still remains, is his presence and support the reason why you feel okay? Warnings: pov switching, pining, fluff, comfort, marijuana use, champagne, drunken feelings, confessions using a taylor swift song, pizza Words: 5,330

A/N: Golden Girl and Dieter have not left my mind since I wrote them. I couldn't believe how much @almostfoxglove's gorgeous moodboard (see above) that she created with my prompts of "Dieter x adoration x gold" matched my ideas for the follow-up sooo I wrote it out. I hope you enjoy.

Previous Chapter Masterlist

***

You’re awoken by a grumbling snore and a solid heat pressed against your cheek. Your tired eyes blink open and are greeted by a faded wine stained heather gray chest. Dieter.

For a split second, there is confusion, a moment of panic flickers through you. Then it all comes back to you–the heartbreak of yesterday.

The flood of emotions, the tears, Warren’s cold, unblinking blue eyes as he told you he’d fallen in love with someone else. No remorse. Just the simple truth, delivered in his same steady voice he’d use for his clients, as if your marriage now meant nothing. And then he was gone, walking out of the door you’d painted his favorite color green. Then, your shaking hands calling the only person you knew who would be there for you. Dieter.

You don’t know if it was the exhaustion of your marriage ending or Dieter’s body against yours, but you haven’t slept that deeply in years.

Now, you gently pull away, your gaze lingering on him as he sleeps. Fluffy, tousled hair fans across the pillow, his parted plush lips gently percolate out snores. The lines of stress and mischief that crease his face are much gentler and relaxed in his slumber. The sunlight peeking through the curtain casts a golden strip across his face that turns his skin amber and his dark hair almost hazel.

You usually don’t allow yourself to stare at him like this, constantly fighting the pull you’ve always felt towards him, like an invisible string that keeps getting tangled and knotted. That night in the dive bar–years ago–kissing his whiskey soaked lips, feeling the deep rumble of laughter left against your lips when you finally pulled away. You could have had him then.

But you didn’t. You were too enamored by his handsome blue-eyed friend. Warren.

Warren, who said all the right thing, who made you believe everything you wanted to hear, even if half of it was lies. You feel so idiotic.

Dieter’s breathing is steady, his broad chest rises and falls keeping time with the soft hum of his snores. The gold hoop of his earring catches the light. You’ve been enamored with it since that first night you met him all those years ago. A forbidden ring held within his ear, you always wondered how it felt, to be able to freely touch him. Sometimes your hand would reach for it, before your eye would catch the glint of your wedding band. Forbidden, off limits, you’re kept by someone else.

Now, no longer answering to anyone, you let your shocking newfound independence make you happy for once. It’s just you and him, lying in the middle of the bed you bought from Pottery Barn with your ex-mother-in-law, and for the first time you don’t feel guilty for looking at him.

Slowly, almost reverently, your hand hovers over his ear, feeling the soft brush of his hair as you softly pass your finger over the metal ring, a connection to the feelings you’ve always had for him. You pull your hand away, too scared to let the emotions long-held for him take place in your heart.

“Dee,” you croak, your voice is rough from sleep and all of the tears shed from yesterday.

His eyelids flutter open, chocolate brown eyes blinking open, soft and unfocused before crinkling at the edges as a yawn stretches across his face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and groggy. The warm smile he gives you makes your broken heart begin mending itself right then and there.

“It’s almost noon.”

He yawns again, his large hand brushing over his face as he props himself up. He slowly comes to life, a haze of sleep still lingering in his eyes.

“Shit, almost noon huh?” his voice rasps deep from sleep. “You okay?”

A simple question, one that you’ve been asked so few times the past few years as your marriage has grown stagnant and lifeless. You nod, though not entirely sure of your answer.

“I know it was a rough day,” he says, sympathy pouring out of his voice. “I-I’m glad you called me.”

“I am too,” you whisper.

Dieter shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze stays on you. “Warren’s an idiot,” the firmness of his voice surprises you. “He never deser–”

Right then the loud growl of your stomach interrupts.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, pulling away from you.

“Uh, lunch yesterday?” It hadn’t even occurred that you’d gone that long without food.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to see if you were hun–“

“It’s okay Dee,” you quickly reassure, “I don’t think I could’ve even eaten anything yesterday.”

He studies you for a second, his gaze softens. “Well, I make a mean bowl of cereal or I can order us breakfast if you want something more serious.”

“Cereal’s good.”

He stretches and sits up. “Coming right up,” he says, standing and moving to the door.

“You don’t know where anything is!” you call after him.

He pauses, turning back. “That’s never stopped me before,” he winks, causing butterflies to plume in your stomach, the kind you haven’t felt in ages.

The clattering of cupboards being rifled through finally makes you extract yourself from bed.

“Dee!” you shout as you walk down the hall, “I’ll grab everything!”

You send a quick glimpse into the bedroom you used to share with Warren as you tie your robe tighter and head downstairs.

The sun is glaring through the open curtains, yours and Dieter’s phones lay silent on the coffee table. Nobody knows. Warren said it was your decision over who you want to tell. How chivalrous.

“Hey,” Dieter greets you with a smile, as he puts the milk on the counter. “I found the milk and spoons.”

You shake your head, moving around him to pull two bowls out of the cupboard.

“You put the coffee on at least, that’s most important,” you say, grabbing the box of cereal from the pantry. “All I have are Corn Flakes.”

—

The domesticity of it all is not lost on him. Dieter sits next to you at the breakfast bar happily munching on his corn flakes covered in three tablespoons of sugar.

He’s had this dream so many times before. Bright sunlight shining through the kitchen window above the sink that overlooks the garden you take so much pride in, coffee in the light blue mugs with the little birds you were so proud to find at the antique store off of La Cienega, the sound of you eating and just quietly existing next to him. He never wants to wake up.

The first thing he saw today was you, your voice was the first thing he heard. It’s not a dream, it’s really happening here, in this home you used to share with his best friend–or–who used to be his best friend. Warren probably doesn’t even know he’s here, that he was the one you chose to call and to be consoled by. Too oblivious and self obsessed to realize that all these years Dieter’s been secretly in love with his wife. How could he not fall for you?

He glances towards you, wanting to tell you everything in his heart, only choosing the most obvious statement. “I’m here for you, you know that, right?”

“I know Dee, it means… a lot, but you don’t have to be here, I’m okay… really.”

“Trust me, I want to be here Sweets,” he knocks his shoulder against yours. It’s just about the only physical touch he can trust himself to make. He wants to hold you through all of this, keep your body as close to his as possible. Shield you, go to battle for you, be your soldier. All he can afford is a singular shoulder tap.

“You’ve never given me reason to not,” you sigh.

He never wants to let you down, never wants to make you feel like you’re less than deserving of the whole world. He just has to wait. Good things take time.

“What do you want to do today?”

“Not sure. Definitely get out of this robe and into some actual clothes.”

He thanks his lucky stars, as much as he loves you in the fluffy robe, his heart can’t take the brief glimpses of your upper thigh or chest as the fabric swishes across your body. “Do you want me to grab your clothes for you?”

“No, I-it’s gotta happen sooner than later… i-it’s weird, I know he just left me and everything, but–I don’t know Dee–it’s been not fun being me. Here, cooped up in this house just waiting for my husband to decide to like me and spend time with me. You know?” Your shoulders deflate, he gazes at your crestfallen side profile, still so beautiful even when you’re heartbroken.

You take a swig of coffee, he follows the lines of your delicate neck as you swallow the liquid down. Your skin is always so beautiful, but in this light, it transfixes him. “This is the fourth time he’s cheated on me.”

He coughs at your confession. His brows rise in surprise, he never knew about the others. “I-I had no idea,” he murmurs. His heart drops, how fucking dare Warren.

“We didn’t let it be known, I couldn’t deal with–anybody knowing and them judging me. He’d come back, and swear he would change. Why do you think my wedding ring kept getting bigger and bigger? He’d get me something shinier every time he’d fuck someone else… like I’m some sort of crow wife.”

He snickers, you’re still the funniest girl he’s ever met, even when you’re talking about your piece of shit husband.

“And now, NOW he's found the one. All those times I’d let him back, he told me I was the only one for him.” Tears sprout in your eyes. He thinks of all those years you’ve wasted, all those lies you believed, and now, you’re left just as empty as your cereal bowl. “I feel like a fool, he’s been cheating on me for almost a year with her. I just sat idly by, ignoring all of the cracks in the foundation, all of the same signs I had seen before, he’d call me crazy. I guess a person can only be gaslit for so long before they burn up. The house has been crumbling for the past few years, and I just kept thinking maybe it would change… and the cracks just got bigger until… he left. Now I’m left here trying to rebuild and trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

“Nothing,” he says, his voice firmer than he intended. “You did nothing wrong. Warren’s always been the ‘take what I want when I want’ type. It’s him, not you.”

You solemnly nod, eyes staring unblinking at your spoon swirling in the milky white expanse of your empty cereal bowl. “And I just had to fall in love with him. I feel so foolish.” Your voice floats into his ears, flowing down to his heart squeezing the organ that pumps only for you.

“Hey,” he whispers, “I’ve been best friends with him for almost thirty years. If you’re a fool, then I’m one too.”

You look at him, his eyes meet yours. He offers you a small smile that you return with a nod. You’re sweeter than the cereal milk he just got done slurping out of his bowl.

“Well,” you sigh, tapping the counter and breaking the miniscule moment of understanding. “I can’t do any more of this sad stuff today. I can’t be miserable all day. II know what I want to do tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

“Yep. Drink,” you sigh. “Like, a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I want to forget, just for tonight… and then tomorrow I’ll have to deal with all of the bullshit.”

He doesn’t mention to you that the last time only the two of you drank together, his marriage to Anika had just ended. Now it’s a tradition. “I can help with that. Do you need me to go grab some booze?”

“Nope,” you hop off the barstool and pad over to the wine fridge. You bend over, he strangles his napkin when he gets a glimpse of your upper thighs before he looks away. Not right now.

You pull a fancy looking bottle out of the fridge. “We were supposed to have this for our tenth anniversary. Some dumb expensive bottle of champagne he bought while we were on vacation in France.”

He grabs it from the counter top, eyebrows rising at the fancy label.

“Wow. Thirty-five year old Bollinger, huh? That’s the stuff the queen drinks.” “Of course you’d know that,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you put the champagne in the fridge. “I’m gonna clean up, hop into the shower and change. I don’t know if you want to head to your place and grab some clothes?”

He looks down at his stained shirt and pajama pants he’s been wearing since he woke up yesterday afternoon. He wasted no time in changing when he got the call from you. He could certainly also use a shower.

“If you’re okay with me leaving for a bit,” he hesitates.

“I am, really Dee,” you assure. “I’m going to head upstairs. Come over around five?”

“Five works,” he smiles. Hating the rush of nerves he feels of spending another night only with you.

“You’re the best Dee,” you smile.

He doesn’t know whether to shake Warren for leaving someone like you or thank him as he deposits his bowl in the sink and grabs his keys and phone.

—

The master bedroom is just as it was left yesterday, besides the empty side of Warren’s closet and vanity. How kind of him to move out while you’re left crying on the couch. You were his wife for eight years. Over three thousand days of marriage. A mortgage, two cars, three credit cards with unspent reward points, multiple bank accounts. God, there’s so much to do.

Not today.

Today you’re going to push down these terrible feelings, today you’re going to focus on the future of what can be once you trudge through all of this. Today you’re going to spend the day taking care of yourself and then tonight, you’re going to get drunk with your friend Dieter.

The gold frame on your bedside table catches your eye. Ah, your Australia trip last year, a surprise excursion from Warren. You’re pretty sure he was talking to her while the two of you explored the outback. You thought that trip was the beginning of something new and better for the two of you. It only took a week after your return home for him to start working late and having meetings in other states again.

You love the frame that holds the picture of better days with Warren, you found it at an antique store Dieter told you about. You’ve always loved vintage decor, Warren always preferred brand new, he never liked the idea of “other people’s trash littering his home.” You open the back of the frame, pull out the photo, and crumble it in your hands before setting the empty frame back on the table. One day, it’ll hold a picture of true happiness—one day, there will be someone else to smile with.

You shed your robe and drop it in the hamper before standing in front of your mirror. You look the same, really. Only thing that might give away your husband left you are your eyes that sit a little redder and puffier and your naked ring finger.

A glance at your phone shows a couple of missed texts and calls. Nothing important. Still no word from Warren. You feel foolish for expecting anything more from him.

All the tears you shed yesterday suddenly feel ridiculous. All those tears fell for a man who could barely be grown enough to check on how you’re doing today. You’ve read of slow burns in romance novels, but what about a slow snuff? Where your marriage just gradually dies, suffocated by indifference, until Warren’s selfishness finally snuffed it out. There’s a sense of freedom now, like you no longer have to lie to yourself. Now you just have to figure out how to move on.

You scroll to the playlist Dieter sent you a few weeks ago, smiling to yourself at the realization that as your marriage fizzled, your’s and Dieter’s friendship grew warmer. You turn the tap on as the first song plays.

'Round your city, 'round the clock Everybody needs you No, you can't make everybody equal Although you got beaucoup family You don't even got nobody bein' honest with you

Frank Ocean. Your’s and Dieter’s shared favorite. Warren can’t stand him, of course. When Dieter got tickets to a Frank Ocean concert, Warren spent the night rolling his eyes while you and Dieter screamed lyrics, danced under the strobe lights, and passed a joint back and forth. Anika and Warren stood behind you both, glued to their phones, ruining what should’ve been an unforgettable night with their sulking.

You laugh out loud to yourself at your stupidity. Why did you stay?

The shower feels good and refreshing. You scrub your skin with your favorite body scrub and use your favorite conditioner you buy from the boutique next to your favorite cafe. It’s now up to you to take care of yourself and to show yourself love. Lord knows it’s pretty much been that way for the past year.

Dieter’s playlist plays on. Every song on it you like, he never lets you down.

“You will remember When this is blown over And everything's all by the way When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you”

Your hands pause at the lyrics as you rub lotion across your skin. You wonder what Dieter’s thinking, what he’s thought this whole time, why he speaks to you the way he does. He’s always been such an open book, but ever since his divorce with Anika a few years ago, he’s been less readable. Your mind is crowded by the feelings you have for him, the way you liked waking up next to him this morning, the way you wish he’d never stop holding you.

You remind yourself to go shopping for some new clothes, to fill the newly acquired empty space in your closet. You find the bright robe hanging in the back of your closet. A just-because-gift from Dieter because you mentioned it had all of your favorite colors. He texted you a photo of himself getting ready for an awards show, and you pointed out how much you loved it. He handed it to you the next time he saw you with a shy grin. You try to remember the last time Warren gave you a random gift as you wrap the soft cotton around your body.

You admire yourself in the mirror remembering the way Dieter’s dark brown eyes lingered on you after you put it on. The small smile he blessed you with as he softly murmured “perfect.”

The clock reads 2:30. Just twenty-four hours ago Warren told you he’s no longer in love with you, that he had found someone else. You swallow the sadness, not today.

For the first time in a long time, today you’re going to allow yourself to look forward to something–and somebody. Dieter will be here soon.

—

He knocks on the side door three times before letting himself in. His usual Dieter entrance.

“Sweets?” he calls out, his voice echoing through the house.

“Hey!” you respond, quickly trudging down the steps.

He almost drops the pizza box on the floor, along with his jaw when he sees you.

“Great minds,” you smile looking down at his faded blue jeans–the same color as yours.

“Yeah,” he nods, “great minds.” He swears you’re his twin flame, except he burns even brighter for you. He hopes one day your heart will burn just as hot for him.

“Prime Pizza?” you excitedly say spying the familiar box from your favorite pizza place.

“Yep, also got you garlic knots,” he smiles, lifting a white takeout bag up. “And caesar salad. And vodka pasta.”

“Oh my gooooood,” you sing, grabbing the pre-rolled joint and lighter from the table. “You’re the best. Let’s eat outside.”

His heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest as he follows you through the french doors to your backyard. It’s a beautiful, warm evening. You’ve set the table already, the sun is just beginning to lower behind the mountains, bathing everything in golden and purple shades.

He can’t take his eyes off of you as you light the joint and take a hit. He feels ridiculous relishing the fact that his lips will be where yours just were as you hand the joint to him.

Music gently plays in the background and you hum along while opening the takeout boxes and filling your plate.

“Oh my god, this looks so good,” you gush, smiling at him. “Thanks Dee.”

Weed smoke, garlic, and laughter fill the air as the two of you share a meal.

He wishes to never wake from this dream.

—

You always loved this neighborhood at night. The winding hill overlooks downtown Los Angeles and all of its flickering traffic and brake light glory. Street lamps glow golden in the midnight haze. Dieter walks alongside you, keeping tempo with your steps growing clumsier the emptier your champagne bottle gets.

“God, it’s beautiful out,” you say, tilting your head back to gaze at the sky focusing on a singular star. You wonder what it sees as it looks down on you. Does it see the internal struggle within your heart? Your husband walked out on you yesterday, and you’ve already found solace in his best friend. Peace in the heart and mind of the best man at your wedding.

“Ooh! Grass patch! Grass patch!” you suddenly shout, running over to the grassy area just off to the side of your neighbor’s home. “Come look at the stars with me!”

Dieter follows, laying down beside you with a small huff.

“I love doing this,” you say wistfully. “Like it’s so big, and we’re so small. You know?”

“I do,” he says. “Someone in Antarctica has the same view we have. Isn’t that insane?”

“Yes!” you shout, knocking your knee against his and leaving it there. “Sometimes it’s so easy to get lost in the vastness of space.”

“It is…” he softly says.

You turn your head to find him not looking up at the stars, but right at you.

“Hi,” you giggle, a little nervous from the look in his eyes.

“You’re– I think you’re–-” he grumbles and turns to look back at the sky shaking his head. “I wonder how many satellites are recording our conversation right now.”

You follows his lead, turning back to the sky, wishing on a star that some day you’ll hear what Dieter really wanted to tell you.

—

He listens as you softly hum into the breezy night air. A pleasant smile is stretched across your face, your eyes sit a little hazier from the bottle of champagne that you’re holding by the neck.

You stop, bobbling back and forth on your feet. He grabs your arms, steadying your wobbly form. You’re much drunker now thanks to your impromptu stargazing and drinking adventure in your neighbor’s yard.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yes *hiccup* just–haven’t felt this free in awhile,” your body thuds against his chest. His heart goes into overdrive. “Like, GOD, it fucking sucks, but also like, fuck Warren, he didn’t deserve ME.”

He wants to tell you how much he agrees, he wants to pour his rapid beating heart out to you in the middle of this quiet neighborhood. He doesn’t, you’re going through enough, and he respects–nay–loves you far too much to divulge his years-long secret devotion to you.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Fuck Warren.”

“Fuck Warren!” you giggle. “God that feels good.”

“FUCK WARREEEEENNNNN!” you shout, your voice echoing off the canyon walls.

“Whoa, whoa, okay okay, it’s too late; let’s not wake up the neighbors, pretty girl.”

His throat closes at the slip. Panic grips his body.

You take a swig of your champagne.

“Pretty?” you turn in his arms. “You think that— I”m pretty?”

Your beautiful face and those eyes of yours, the same he thinks about waking up to, is lit by the full moon, glistening in the nighttime glow. You’re so gorgeous.

“Always have, Golden Girl,” he sees the line drawn and he steps over it. He’s famous for not listening, for saying it fuck it to the plainly written out rules. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your throat lets out an unbelieving laugh. “D’awww, Dee thinks I’m pretttttyyyyyyyyy,” you sing-song, swaying in his arms.

“Alright now, you’re pretty far gone. Let’s get you home, pretty.”

“Dieter Bravo finds me pretty. I’d say Warren’s going to be sooooo mad, but FUCK WARREN!” Another battle cry against your husband echoes across the neighborhood.

“Shhhhh,” he wraps his arms around you tighter, turning you to walk back up the road to your home.

His arms stay around you the whole walk up the hill back to your house. He can smell the sweet scent of your honey shampoo. Your back is molded to his front and yet, the lust for you doesn’t course through his veins like it normally does. There’s something else. Adoration, longing, yearning. His need for your heart overshadows his want for your body. Your footsteps commingle with his in the quiet Los Angeles night.

Your house comes into view, the white picket fence surrounds the colonial two story that you fell in love with. “Dee! It’s a Jimmy Stewart house!” you excitedly shouted when he pulled into the driveway after you and Warren got the keys. He was so happy for you, and yet so jealous of Warren. Now he walks you up the walkway to your door. Now he punches the code in on the keypad and lets you in. Now he catches your arm as you almost trip over the rug. Now he holds you close as you giggle against his chest. Too drunk and bubbly, he wishes he could keep you this happy.

“Dee?” you tilt your head up to look at him.

“Yeah?” his eyes meet your bleary eyes.

“Is it okay that I’m this happy right now?” your voice drops, the shame in it slurs it even more.

“Any emotion you have at this exact moment is okay,” he reassures with a smile.

Your body jumps against his with a hiccup. “Oh my god, I’m so drunk!” you giggle.

“You are. You need some food and a glass of water.”

He’s only allowed himself a couple sips tonight, not wanting to get plastered and not be there to take care of you in case you need him. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t say no to a drink.

He settles you on the couch before heading to the kitchen to find you some sustenance to soak up your drunkenness.

Saltines, you always have saltines. You swear that cheddar cheese on saltines is the greatest food ever, he loves how passionate you are about such a ridiculous opinion. He fills the biggest glass with water from the fridge before adding a couple cubes of ice, he knows how much you love your ice water. He likes taking care of you, he likes trying his damnedest to make you feel better. He wishes he could take care of you every single day and prove to you just how special you are.

He almost drops the glass of water and sleeve of crackers when he walks into your living room.

You’re perched on a small island of carpet surrounded by records strewn across the floor. He was gone for only three minutes and you’ve already emptied two entire shelves.

—

You’re holding a single LP in your hands and staring down at it. Track three. The song that makes you think of Dieter.

“Can I play you a song?” you look up, your bloodshot eyes gaze determinedly at him.

The record player sizzles and crackles an ambient hum while awaiting his answer.

“Of course,” he says, walking over and lightly tapping a trail of records out of the way with his foot.

You tilt your head up and nod, before turning and putting the record on the turntable. Your hands tremble as you lower the needle into the groove for the track you want him to hear.

“It makes me think of… you,” you whisper as the song begins.

Gleaming Twinkling Eyes like sinking ships On waters so inviting I almost jump in

He settles across from you, cross legged, joining you on your island in the sea of scattered vinyl. Just you and Dee in the middle of your living room. It was only twenty-four hours ago he held you as you mourned the loss of your marriage.

Now, he sits quietly, elbows resting on his knees with his chin resting on his thumbs, listening to the song. The song that makes you think of him.

Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush

You’re too brave, the champagne has given you too much permission to bring up those long held desires for your husband’s best friend. If you had chosen him that night in that dive bar, would everything be different today?

His eyes are closed, oblivious to the turmoil that storms within your heart.

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore

He slowly nods along to the beat, the golden earring in his ear catches your eye again. Your fingers pulsate, the bare ring finger on your left hand allows you the permission. He’ll feel it now, he’ll understand, he’ll know of your desires.

You reach out, your shaky hand makes contact with his soft hair, and the earring. His eyes open wide and shocked at your touch.

Gleaming Twinkling Eyes like sinking ships On waters so inviting I almost jump in

“Oh, Sweets,” he whispers as the record crackles in between songs. His hand captures yours, pressing it against his head. “I–it’s—you know–”

“I know,” tears well in your eyes, “but I’ve known.”

He thickly gulps, swallowing down the words you long to hear him say. Instead, he moves your hand to rest against his heart.

“You are every–he never deserved you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it any sooner. I’m a coward–but–I’m going to do better for you. It’s— you have so much going on. I will be here for you, but I can’t do that to you… not now.”

“What if I want it? What if I’ve wanted it since… we met?”

He smirks. “I want it too–but not like this–not so soon.”

Your head drops, suddenly you feel quite sober. Embarrassment will do that.

“Sweets,” he whispers. “Look at me. You’re my Golden Girl. You have been. Always.”

Your eyes stare into his, his glassy brown eyes reflect yours, tears welling at the edge.

“That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Sweets. Full of life and warmth and delight.”

He gently pulls you closer, settling you on his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course you’d use my favorite movie to make me feel better,” you say, settling your head against his broad chest.

“I’ll do anything to make you feel better, Golden Girl.”

He holds you, gently rocking back and forth to the music until the record ends.

That night, you sleep in that same guest room bed, wrapped in Dieter’s strong arms, protected from the spiral of negativity you’ll soon wake up to.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter x you #dieter x reader #pedro pascal #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter the bubble #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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razorblade180 · 1 day

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Capturing the Spark

Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.

Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.

Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.

Summer:Nothing good.

She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.

Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?

Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.

Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.

Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.

Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.

Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.

Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?

Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?

Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.

Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.

Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.

Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.

Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.

Summer:Where is he right now?

Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.

Summer:Wow!

Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.

Summer:….

Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.

Summer:You’ve done that too!?

Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.

Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.

Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.

And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.

Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……

xxxxxx

Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?

Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?

Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-

🎶VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶

Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.

Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.

Jaune:A eulogy?

Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.

#rwby #rwbabies #summer schnee #weiss schnee #jaune arc #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes

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tw1nkd3ath · 3 days

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i am bored and have had A Long Day so have some party poison headcanons:

•they/them (obviously). their gender is simultaneously every gender and no gender at the same time

•they have borderline personality disorder. this caused them to be extra medicated back in the city. now, they’re finally off of any and all pills, and they’re learning how to actually live with their disorder. loves reading books about mental health, and trying to figure out how to take care of themself.

•speaking of drugs, poison quit the city pills before they escaped the city. they quickly fell into other pills and drugs in the zones though. it was familiar, and it made their brain shut up for once. they have very bad PTSD, more than anyone in the zones. they don’t know just how bad it actually is, and they’ll never speak of it, but the other three know just by the way poison is. they got clean after moving into the diner. they felt safe for once, and the other three were so supportive in keeping them off of drugs. it’s hard to deal with flashbacks and all of that; every day has to be taken one step at a time with them, but they’re making it through.

•loves dancing. more than anything, really. get them drunk and on a dance floor, and their smile is wider than you’ll ever see it. they love parties and clubs, until they don’t and they’re ready to go home. they’ll dance for hours, and all of a sudden they’ll go over to one of the other three and poke them on the shoulder and that’s when they all know they’re getting overstimulated and want to go home and crash.

•yknow how i said they love dancing more than anything? well i lied. the one thing they love more than dancing is singing. they’ll take the AM and go on drives where they sing for miles and miles to whatever’s on the radio. ghoul and kobra make them tapes of their favorite songs, and sometimes the four of them will have carpool karaoke.

•goes for drives to clear their head. they’re normally not allowed to go alone, unless one of the others approves it (poison once wrecked an old car of theirs while angry driving, they don’t wanna talk about it). normally ghoul will go with them, riding shotgun with poison’s hand in theirs. poison drives until they can’t remember what was bothering them when they first turned the key.

•surprisingly a very good cook. them and jet love to cook for the others when they have the ingredients to. poison’s favorite is what they call ‘slutty pasta,’ it’s pasta with a shitload of cheese melted into the sauce. yes, it does make them sick. yes, they will eat it anyway.

•loves looking cute all of the time. even their pajamas are somehow cute and coordinated.

•cannot own un-modified clothes. they have to personalize everything, and they’ve got a whole booth in the diner reserved for whatever patches they’re painting or skirt they’re making or jacket they’re embroidering. dr. death gives the fab four almost all of the art supplies he gets; between poison and kobra they blow through paints and glues and threads and things.

•sketchbooks sketchbooks sketchbooks. they’ve got two right now that they’re working on. they’ll glue/tape little things to the pages, so it’s sort of like a scrapbook with art and writing in it. they will tape literal garbage in it, though. they’ve got the butt of their first cigarette out of the city, a list someone gave them of thrift shops out in the zones, a piece of paper bag ghoul used to scoop weed grounds one time, and so on. the others poke fun of them for this, but they really love how sentimental poison is. show pony has a polaroid camera, and loves to take pictures of their friends and give them the little prints. poison glues them all into their sketchbooks, and looks through them when they’re having a bad day.

•in eating disorder recovery, killjoy style. they hardly ate when jet and ghoul found them and kobra, and they’re trying so hard to help them recover. if poison is struggling to eat a meal in front of them, ghoul will go “hey poison. you’re a pussy if you don’t eat that mac and cheese.” or “you’re not a real killjoy if you don’t eat all those chicken nuggets,” all while sporting a shit-eating grin. poison and kobra have gotten themselves both to a healthy weights finally, and everyone couldn’t be happier.

•cigarettes are their one true love. they first started smoking when they were fourteen. they dislike vaping (even though it’s become quite the fad in the zones, ever since people started smuggling them out of the city), they vaped for around a year and it killed their lungs. cigarettes only for poison, and they’d have it no other way.

•yknow how i said they decorate their clothes? well they also decorate the diner. they’ll hang up art made by them or kobra all over the walls of the diner, and they let kobra paint straight onto the walls.

•loves science for some reason? dr. death gives them all sorts of books on biology and animals and ecosystems and such, and they absolutely love it. they wanna be a biologist in another life. they love teaching the others about shit they read, like animal facts and such. kobra will listen to poison infodump for hours.

that is all for now thank you

#my chemical romance #mcr #danger days #party poison #fun ghoul #killjoys #kobra kid #jet star #fabulous killjoys #killjoy headcanons #danger days headcanons #danger days fic #party poison headcanons #party poison fic #killjoy fic

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yeonbinwyd · 23 hours

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Can you do Heesung next? Thank you 🥹

of course!! rest of the hyung line next??

after party

pairing: sub fem!reader x softdom! heesung

synopsis: you had been friends with Heesung for some time. You always felt there was sexual tension between you two but he wouldn’t admit it. After one night out for an event turns into too much drinking, the truth comes out.

genre (w/tags): smut, minors dni, breeding kink, romantic?, mentions of alcohol.

a/n: I personally think heesung would be the biggest baby when drunk and begs for attention being all needy.

Word count: 1127

“Whats up with your phone? You’ve been blowing up all night.” You were at dinner with your best friend. She had asked in an irritated tone. “It’s just a friend. He’s super drunk right now and he wants to meet up” you explain.

“He??? Wants to meet up” she’s now intrigued.

“Stop he’s just a friend. I think he just needs some support. “ you continued. She pursed her lips together and shook her head. He was lucky you both were warping up dinner and were about to go separate ways. You two spilt the bill and went off your own ways. He had been in front of a boba shop that still open, hands in pockets, leaning against a bike rack. He was bright red, trying to cover his face until he saw you.

“Heeey” he coos “I’m so glad to see you! Let’s get some boba and something to eat! I’m starving.” Heesung requests throwing his arm over your shoulder. He puts his weight on you, standing over you. Managing him while drunk was going to be tough.

You listened to his request and got him his favorite tea with something solid to eat. When you brought them back to him, he was beyond excited, he even kissed your cheek.

“You’re a life saver! Thank you!! “ he doesn’t waste any time and takes them both in. You both sit outside since he was being obnoxiously loud but it was the one thing you really enjoyed about him.

“You know you’re the only one I really trust when I’m like this.”

He confesses. You’re not surprised since you haven’t drank once during the entire time of their friendship.

“I’m so glad you’re in my life.” He adds while taking a bite of his chicken. With furrowed brows you glance back at your phone, shoving off his comment. He scoots closer beside you.

“I mean it” he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. You can’t take him seriously and laugh in his face.

“You can’t be for real right?

“You don’t think I can be serious?” He asks while giving the saddest eyes.

“Not in the slightest. At least not while you’re drunk. “ you set him straight but he doesn’t want to give up. Heesung scoots even closer, leaning in to kiss your lips. You let him, tasting the taro tea he had been drinking lingering on his mouth. He cups your face, trying to deepen the kiss but you pull away.

“No wait” you stop him.

“Too much?” He backs away to give you space.

“No I like it. ” without a second thought, you grab his hand, causing him to leave his snacks where you two were sitting. You two get in the backseat of your car and continue the kiss. He smirks while pressing his lips on yours, feeling victorious. Heesung hugs your hips making you to sit on his lap. His kisses turn into little nibbles, caressing your collar, nuzzling in your neck. His glorious moans.

“I really feel at home with you.” He admits hugging you snug. You give him a shy smile but he can’t see you in the dark backseat. You grab his chin, smiling into the kiss. Heesung takes the hint and holds you closer. Him being drunk have him the courage to make a move. He just wanted to gush his feelings for you nonstop.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I want you to be mine.

Can we be together?

All thoughts of his running through his head. As his tongue dominates the kiss, he starts to shed off his clothes, while you do the same. You take off your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. His eyes widen in excitement. Heesung rotates your hips to grind against him. Throwing his head back, exposing his Adams apple, he moans lowly. He grinds back, forcing you to groan in return. He starts to bury his face in your chest while placing kisses, worshiping them.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He begged, face still red and flush.

“Please” you beg in return. You get off his lap to have him undo his pants. His hard on, soaked in pre cum was ready for you. Lifting up your skirt then shifting your panties to the side, you glide down. You were equally as wet, wanting him for so long too. You cry out at his massive girth causing you to not move yet. Concerned, Heesung places kisses on your cheek.

“Take your time” he instructs. You don’t give up and prop your hands on his shoulders. He leans back against the car seat, as you take control. As you ride him, he looks almost in tears, overwhelmed with the pressure he’s received. He grips your hips, helping you move up and down. Each move, bringing him closer and closer. He spreads your ass cheeks for a better hold. It makes you even feel even better than before. Your eyes rolling back, nails digging into his skin, leaving indents, he feels so good you don’t want to stop.

“That’s it you’re doing well” he encourages. He loves looking up at you, taking his cock like a champ. He knew you were the one, it solidified it for him. He laid you flat on your side, lifting your leg up to get in better. He grunts as he enters, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure again. Heesung hugs your thigh, while thrusting in you. He sinks himself into your neck, close to your ear. He feels himself getting deeper and closer.

“I’m keeping you. You’re mine now.” He demands as his strokes become stronger and out of control. You can feel his cock hitting your cervix. He whines lowly while his cum begins to pour out. You can feel him feeling you up but he doesn’t stop there. Heesung lays you flat, with both legs over his shoulders. He takes you in again.

“Make me cum again baby. Make me cum for you.” He commands as he doesn’t lose his pace. You just trying to catch your breath. You panting and wipe the sweat from Heesung’s forehead. Infatuated with you, he kisses your lips, biting down as you both groan for each other.

“I’m close baby. Cum for me” you request.

“Yes I’ll do whatever you want.” He goes so fast that he makes you squirt on the two of you. He cums violently after. He holds onto, not wanting to let go and pull out. Heesung lays his head on your chest in the most needy way. Covered in sweat he helps you get dress and glances at the time. At this point the fucking made him sober up.

“So we should talk huh?” He brings up.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heesung smut #heesung x reader #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut

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akookminsupporter · 2 days

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ARE YOU SURE?!: EIGHTH EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

Oh man, I don’t want AYS to end. I can't believe it's already over. It’s not fair. I don’t think it is. We should protest.

Yes, this is my second time watching this episode. I’ve been super busy, so I couldn’t watch it again. I’ve survived by watching clips and gifs on Twitter.

Objectively speaking, Jimin and Jungkook are seriously handsome. Gorgeous. Cute. And they look especially adorable without makeup. They look so young too. Jimin looked amazing in that grey sweater.

I’m unsure if Jimin and Jungkook keep track of the charts and that sort of stuff. Based on things they've said in the past, it seems like they’re not too fussed about it, but it’s nice to know that, in one way or another, they do see the results of their work and the fans' support, even months—or in Jimin's case, more than a year—later. When they were in the US, Jungkook also mentioned something about listening to the music charts in Korea, didn’t he? He did the same thing here, and their songs are still on there. They’re really killing it with their solo careers. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said his favourite part of SMFPT2 was the second half, where Jimin came out half-naked, just saying hahaha.

When they arrived at the restaurant where they’d eat, the video looked like it was shot by a paparazzi or something, hahaha. Jimin looked incredible in that video. I don't know how to explain it, but he looked… famous, hahaha.

One of the descriptions we read a lot when AYS was announced was that Jimin and Jungkook would immerse themselves in the local cuisine wherever they visited. That description couldn’t have been more accurate, hahaha. These guys really travelled just to eat, hahaha.

Every time Jimin said he didn’t look good, or that he’s not handsome, or that his face wasn’t right, I just wanted to jump through the screen and give him two slaps to snap him out of it.

That clip of them waving at the camera through the window is… Jimin looked stunning. His messy, blonde hair at that length was perfect.

The "boyfriend shot," okay. Jimin, I need you to answer a few questions to fully understand that part. I understand what you were trying to say, but why did you say that? I don’t know if it’s a thing in Korea, but when you Google "the boyfriend shot," nothing even remotely close to that photo comes up, so it's not a trend or anything like that. So, that was... interesting. Jungkook’s non-reaction and just commenting on the photo itself was... he wasn’t bothered at all.

I think Jungkook loves to eat. He loves food. I think. It’s not something I can confirm, because it’s not entirely clear. But I reckon he loves eating.

It’s so cute when they mimic the silly things the other one does. They’re just too adorable.

That quirky habit Jungkook has of showing off everything he's about to eat. And Jimin too.

I mean, Jungkook, why did you tell Jimin to take off his pants and underwear? That’s a bit much, don’t you think? Hahaha. Jimin’s response to Jungkook, saying, "loud, repetitive noises make Jimin nervous" is hilarious, and we know he’s said it twice when Jungkook was teasing him. But I wonder what context that phrase has for him. Seriously, I’d love to see a copy of his YouTube watch history and search history to know how they find these videos. It’s clear Jungkook knows the context, hahaha.

Someone on Twitter mentioned that Jimin and Jungkook swap roles in their dynamic or relationship. One day, one acts like the hyung and the other like the younger one, and vice versa. Another day, one is the annoying one that the other just smiles at, and vice versa. And another day, one is the silly, cute one, and the other pretends to put up with it grudgingly, but really, they love it. It’s super interesting, especially when you think about the age difference between them and what that means culturally.

Jungkook in the car watching—or better yet, waiting for—Jimin to notice he wasn’t behind him is just too cute. That happy little giggle when Jimin finally noticed and came to get him was adorable. Jimin pretending to be annoyed about it is funny because we all know that man never gets annoyed about anything Jungkook does or says.

Jungkook was right—Jimin really did love the gimbap option he bought, hahaha.

"Jimin is Jungkook's Jungkook." I saw this in a tweet a few days ago, and I remember making a post about it. Reading the comments, I see some of you gave it a slightly different interpretation to what the tweet explained, and what I realised when I read it. What we mean by that, in this context, is that Jimin does the same thing Jungkook does with the other members’ songs—singing them all the time in a funny, but slightly annoying way, hahaha. The members usually just laugh or ignore Jungkook because, well, he’s Jungkook, hahaha. Jimin does something similar, and Jungkook just laughs and looks at Jimin like he’s thinking, “Cute,” because, to Jungkook, everything Jimin does is cute.

The editors syncing the song with the parts Jimin was dancing—or trying to dance—is way too funny, hahaha. Jungkook grabbing more things while they were already paying is so... all of us, I’m sure, hahaha.

I know there are a few theories—let’s call them that—about which card Jimin and Jungkook used, particularly in Sapporo. But something I noticed is that they always made sure to get the receipt, and at least the times I caught it, it was always Jungkook who kept it.

Why did they laugh when the staff member said the jacuzzi in this last place was bigger than the cold tub from the day before? Not just the laugh, but the tone when Jungkook said, “Ahh, from yesterday”—I didn’t get that part. Why that reaction? Even the staff’s little chuckles were interesting. What did we miss?

I think Jimin likes "Standing Next to You." I don’t know, just a gut feeling, hahaha.

The accommodations where Jimin and Jungkook stayed throughout the show were amazing, but the ones in Sapporo were definitely the most beautiful and impressive. The clip of them entering the house without context would be so hard to explain, hahaha. Did they choose the places they stayed in? Or did the staff show them the options before they arrived? Them walking down the stairs backwards... they’re so alike, hahaha. Jungkook, the fact that you two have different ages didn’t matter at all—you’re practically the same person, hahaha.

Oh? The room they were in when Jungkook was unpacking all the snacks he’d bought is different from the one where they slept, so they left their bags in a different room.

Jimin looks stunning in that clip where he asks Jungkook if he was going to get in the jacuzzi, ahahaha. Jimin and Jungkook bickering over silly things is one of my favourite discoveries about their dynamic in the show, haha.

Didn’t Tae say that this second chapter wasn’t about seeing them naked or something like that? Could he explain to me why that’s exactly what this second chapter has been about so far? Not that I’m complaining, hahaha.

Them in the jacuzzi. Jimin and Jungkook have such enviable bodies. They’re slim but muscular, they barely have any fat on them, and they’re delicate yet masculine at the same time. It’s enviable. And I’m not a man. Seeing them in the jacuzzi also reminded me that they are, after all, men, and like most men on earth, they do stupid things for a good laugh.

The way Jungkook looked at Jimin when he picked up the snowball to take into the jacuzzi was so sweet and innocent, and the way Jimin interpreted it as Jungkook saying ‘Are you really gonna throw that at me?’ was hilarious. What’s even funnier is seeing other fans, especially non-Jikookers, using that clip to say, “This is how Jungkook would look at you if he were your boyfriend” or “This is how Jungkook looks at X member because they’re together.” Like, do they not realise that by saying this, they’re acknowledging that Jungkook doesn’t look at Jimin like he’s just a friend or how you’d look at a simple mate? This also applies when they use clips of Jimin looking at Jungkook. The way Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other in that moment is... yeah.

When Jungkook lost rock-paper-scissors to Jimin to see who had to lie in the snow – honestly, men – and took a little extra time warming up in the jacuzzi before facing his punishment, was funny haha, the way he looked at Jimin was like, “Are you really gonna make me do this?” But what’s funnier was how he looked at Jimin when he said, “Come on, baby,” ahahaha. Jungkook was like, “Don’t come at me with cute nicknames,” hahaha.

Have I ever mentioned that I love Jimin’s tattoos, especially the ones on his back? I don’t think I’ve brought that up before.

Seriously though, do they share social media accounts and watch the same videos, memes, etc.? Wasn’t that song Jimin was singing when he was lying on the stairs the same one Jungkook sang on the first day in Sapporo when he was picking which sunglasses to wear?

What Jimin said – that if we see his trip with Jungkook, we’d know what he’s like at home – it’s no surprise, but is he like this WITH Jungkook at home too?

Kookoo-ah. The different ways Jimin says Jungkook’s name is just too cute.

Oh, it looks like the whisky Jimin bought or brought to drink with Jungkook is the same one Jungkook took with him the second time he went on Yoongi’s show. So, either Jimin bought/brought/ordered it because he knew Jungkook liked it, or they’re even similar in their taste for alcohol.

So, when Jimin said “honey,” he wasn’t saying it to Jungkook, he was talking about the whisky, and I guess that’s why Jungkook responded that they looked alike. That said, I choose to believe he was calling Jungkook “honey,” haha. They’re such drama queens, hahaha. Jimin, are you really gonna leave us hanging for a whole year?

Is it just me, or when Jungkook asked Jimin if he’d had his physical exam for the military, did it not sound like a genuine question? Like, he already knew the answer? Does that make sense? Hahaha. The way Jimin responded was funny, and something I noticed is that when Jungkook brought up the military service, Jimin seemed to avoid the topic, which is understandable.

It was nice how they included the staff too. In a way, it was also one of the last times they’d be travelling/working with them for a while. The staff member who suggested they watch the first episode of the show deserves a bonus, hahaha.

Have you guys noticed that when Jimin and Jungkook are sitting together, they tend to lean towards each other? Especially in relaxed seating arrangements, like when they were watching the first episode of the show. It’s not just that they sit really close, but they lean their bodies towards each other, almost like they’re trying to face each other.

Something I’ve always noticed is that Jimin doesn’t like watching himself on screen, except when he’s monitoring performances or music videos, of course. Even then, he’s super critical of himself. But in videos like the one they were watching, he tends to question or criticise his own behaviour, or he’s just embarrassed by himself. I really wish he’d stop being so hard on himself, so critical. Another thing that’s impossible not to notice is that whenever Jimin does this and Jungkook is around, Jungkook reassures him, saying he did well, or that it’s funny or cute, or he just laughs along with him. They really do have a sweet relationship.

Jungkook really didn’t like falling out of the kayak, the way he complained to Jimin about being left behind is hilarious, ahahaha, and Jimin trying to defend himself, hahaha.

They honestly laugh at the silliest things they say or do. I love that about them.

Even though Jimin told Jungkook he could keep watching the episode without him, Jungkook paused it until Jimin came back.

Okay, this conversation was so interesting:

Jungkook: “We were worried a lot while we were filming it. Is this going to be okay? Will they be able to edit this right?”

Crew: “We were also a bit worried.”

Why were Jimin and Jungkook worried? I know that in the first two episodes especially, they kept questioning whether they’d be able to do the show, or whether certain moments would make it in, etc., but why did Jungkook say they were worried about how it would be edited? What did they get up to? Or was Jungkook specifically referring to Jimin being sick the whole time, or part of their trip in the US? Because in that case, it makes sense why they’d wonder how it’d be edited, hahaha.

Jungkook was right when he said that Jimin just had to look at his face to start laughing, and also those times when he said Jimin was happier when he was with him.

I mean, Jimin telling Jungkook how dare he enjoy the scenery and his coffee while he was dying over there, ahahaha. At least he was looking out for him, haha. So, the stone tower was indeed for Jimin, haha!

Yeah, it was really fun. AYS is a blast. I can’t believe it’s over.

Hey, I wonder if the minutes they cut from the third behind-the-scenes were of them sitting at the table having drinks. Their faces looked a bit flushed by the end, haha, I imagine from the whisky. Not them apologising to each other for snoring from the alcohol, and not the editors putting in and describing their snoring sounds—everyone’s just too unserious, haha.

God, Jimin is so cute. His outfit on the last day looked amazing. Jimin tends to wear oversized clothes like Jungkook, but not as much as Jungkook does. And they look so good on him.

Was Jimin tearing up from the cold or because it was their last day?

Jimin went to wake up Jungkook, but why we didn’t get a clip of Jimin waking him up? I mean, did the editors rob us of that too? Incredible.

Wait, didn’t they sleep in the room they entered on the night they arrived? The one with the camera? Jimin just walked past it when he went to wake up Jungkook and remember Jungkook wasn’t in that room when he was unpacking the snacks he’d bought the day before. Oh, they did sleep in the room they walked into when they arrived, the one with the camera. So, Jungkook must have already been awake when Jimin went to look for him, or he was getting dressed in the other room where they left their bags! Okay, that makes sense because in the clip where they were about to sleep, the bags weren’t in that room.

Jimin, I can’t believe they didn’t get in the jacuzzi one last time. Jungkook walking over to Jimin to touch his head and say Jimin doesn’t like it when people do that, but that he can do it, felt a bit unnecessary. I mean, we get it Jungkook, you have privileges with Jimin that others don’t; no need to brag about it. Jimin looked super cute and fluffy at that moment.

I’ve always found it funny how the guys—not just Jimin and Jungkook, but all of them—are incredibly obvious when they’re promoting a product on one of their shows, ahahaha.

On the last day, Jimin looked a bit sad, nostalgic, and down. And that’s totally understandable. Did you notice that on the last day, Jimin wasn’t using his GoPro? Only Jungkook had one on, at least when they arrived at the restaurant for their last meal in Sapporo. Jungkook also seemed a bit livelier, but only to cheer up Jimin. When they sat down to eat, a GoPro appeared filming Jimin, but when he started eating and showing what he was having to that camera, they didn’t show those clips. I wonder what happened.

When the waiter brought the beer that Jungkook ordered, he put another one on the table but then it disappeared—did Jimin send it back? Jungkook realised that if he drank the beer, he wouldn’t be able to drive to the airport and continued to ponder whether he should drink it or not, even after the staff told him not to worry about it, shows... Jungkook wanted to be the one to take them to the airport. And he wanted it to just be the two of them in the car.

Are there no flights from Sapporo or Tokyo to the US? If there are, why did Jungkook decide to fly to Seoul and then the next day to the US? Wasn’t that way more tiring for him and his staff?

Jimin asking Jungkook which piece of sushi he wanted to eat, even when he won rock-paper-scissors to choose what to eat first, says a lot about the kind of person Jimin is. It’s the little things.

They really do have a peculiar and similar sense of humour.

Jungkook genuinely wanted to be the one to take them to the airport. That’s just too sweet. And now what that person said last year makes even more sense—that they saw them in the airport parking lot, I think, together with no staff around, just their cameras, and that a few minutes later their security showed up.

Jungkook really said: “We’ll enlist together, so even in dreams we should be together,” ahahahaha. God, I love the way they talk to each other. Jimin really did look melancholic that last day. Jungkook did his best to cheer him up.

They really loved doing the show; that was more than obvious. And I love that they had those moments of relaxation and fun before their world came to a halt for nearly two years. I love that they did it together, creating all those lovely memories together. That said, I love that they mentioned it. That they said they should do it again. A reboot, as Jungkook said. For Jungkook to say those were the best trips he’s had in his life is incredible and says a lot about what his time with Jimin meant to him. To them. And yes, they ate a lot during the show, hahaha.

Jungkook: “It’s like we were on a trip but not on a trip at the same time. It was all over the place, and that’s what made it fun.”

I don’t know how accurate that translation is, but what Jungkook said really resonates because, at the end of the day, that was “work” for them, and it didn’t feel like it. They felt at home, but not in a literal or material way; they felt comfortable. They were themselves. Yes, some things were planned, but the way they reacted to those or the unexpected things that happened is what made the trip special for them and for us.

“We’re probably enjoying ourselves right now too.” – Jeon Jungkook.

I want to believe that yes, wherever they are, they’re enjoying it together.

God, the way Jungkook looked at Jimin in one of the clips at the end of the episode. The man was enchanted. Do you know what it reminded me of? The Wlive the group did in 2021, the 210219 live, where Jungkook looked at Jimin with so much adoration.

I won’t lie to you, when I saw the last clip of them on the day they were enlisting in the army, my heart stopped for a second. I never expected that. It hit me with such nostalgia and sadness at the same time. It was a cruel reality check after all that happiness.

I loved AYS, and it’s something I’ll always treasure.

If you’ve made it this far, I’m sorry and thank you—I just couldn’t stop writing ajajajajaja.

As I mentioned a few days ago in a post, I'm going to share my thoughts/conclusions on the latest episode of AYS and the show as a whole in a separate post, which you can read here.

#jkk show #rosie's thoughts

52 notes · View notes

maespri · 19 hours

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oh my i never really saw myself making a post like this, but i really wanna talk about morgana! more specifically… why i don’t really understand the hate he receives.

for starters, i know a lot of people dislike mona because he gets on ryuji’s case often. his squabbling with ryuji can get hurtful at times too, i know, but i feel like so many people conveniently leave out the fact that… ryuji returns fire? it’s not as though mona is constantly attacking poor ryuji who can’t defend himself; it’s a two-sided fight throughout most of the game. both of them are constantly fueling the fire. not to mention, it’s a fight that eventually ends. both individuals have great character development (i could talk about it for /ages/, but i digress) that ends with their fighting essentially ceasing entirely. they’re both dumb teenage boys, they both said dumb stuff to each other, and they both hurt each other, and all of that is recognized and left in the past.

the hatred toward mona in general is something i struggle to understand entirely. you hate this cat because he tells you to go to bed? the game would have told you to do that one way or another, because it’s a game. there have to be constraints, or you’d get terribly overpowered incredibly fast. i wholeheartedly agree that mona’s lacking in comparison to the other characters in many ways- but i’ve never hated him, and was surprised to see a lot of people did.

maybe i’m just weirdly empathetic toward fictional characters, but i really liked his storyline. mona’s been with the protagonist since day one, helping him out, staying with him, encouraging and supporting him in everything he does, navigating them through mementos and palaces and battles… and he’s never really appreciated for any of it. obviously, the other phantom thieves do the same and don’t require any extra praise, but morgana already has a complex stemming from the fact that he’s not human. inherently, he believes he’s not nearly as good as any of the others, and subsequently, that he isn’t good enough in general- and he’s so ashamed of that that he can’t even voice the concern to the protagonist pre-okumura’s palace. it made sense to me when he snapped and ran away; if you were constantly the black sheep of a group, unable to engage with anyone unless the guy you live with is always there as well, wouldn’t you yearn for autonomy too? (don’t even get me started on the haru parallels there; there’s a reason morgana snapped during the okumura arc.) if you felt expendable and there wasn’t ever an effort made to prove otherwise, purposeful or not, wouldn’t you also want to leave? to spare both yourself, and the people you’re leaving? i really liked his arc because it led to two realizations- that he was pivotal to the group, and it was fine if he ended up not being a human. (and honestly, he was pivotal to my group… who else would i use to heal everyone outside of battle…!)

anyway, his objectification of women was weird. didn’t like that. but this is a JRPG, and he’s not the only one who does strange things like that at times (why was ryuji looking at ann’s chest in the mona bus outside futaba’s palace man…). honestly, his flirting was also weird at times, but as long as it never got strangely sexual, i didn’t really mind? it’s not like it ever genuinely bothers ann either as far as i remember. it’s more just a stupid thing he does.

anyway… i dunno. i like the kitty. he’s silly, he kept me company, and he made my playthrough fun. life is so much more beautiful when you carry love in your heart rather than resentment

#i truly do believe people are entitled to their own opinions! but .#sometimes i do wonder if people just completely throw empathy and sympathy out the window when it comes to video games #or more specifically #completely reframe their empathy so that it only applies to the convenient parties #like i love akechi and he’s one of my favorite characters but the only reason we are able to do that is because #we understand his circumstances and why he did what he did and it’s easy to not personalize any of it when #we don’t see the people he killed and when the phantom thieves really do want to be his friend #idk… i know i’m kind of comparing water and orange juice here lol. but just a thought #my point is #morgana is still at the bottom of my phantom thieves ranking #but i love him a bunch #anywayyy #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #vees persona meta #morgana #morgana p5 #morgana persona 5 #ryuji sakamoto

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tgmsunmontue · 3 days

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Saga of Solitude 13/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010) TWELVE (2011)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – 2012

They’ve decided to forgo their rings outside of the house. They live in a little pottery dish that Petra made beside a larger one that Tamsin had made several years early, likely in the same class. It’s a new habit, keys go in the large bowl and the ring goes on his finger when he gets home and he remembers Mav sliding it onto his finger during their wedding ceremony every time. And when he leaves the house it works in reverse, he takes the ring off and picks up his keys.

They’d had a quiet courtroom ceremony, just the seven of them. When he’d checked his paperwork to see what needed updating he hadn’t needed to update next of kin, Maverick has been listed there for years alongside Sarah, and nothing there is going to change. He does fill in the forms for change of marital status, and he holds onto them for weeks afterwards, hands shaking at the thought of handing them in and everyone knowing. It takes him a couple more days but then he’s standing in the doorway of his office looking at Aubrey fastidiously working on something, muttering under her breath and she’s been with him for five years now, nearly six, and he knows he can trust her.

“Aubrey… I need to ask you opinion on something.”

“Sir?”

“I have filled these in and should submit them to the administration office. However…” he swallows roughly and hands the forms over to her silently. She accepts them, eyes flicking over them quickly.

“Well sir, I’m a little hurt I wasn’t invited –”

“Ah –”

“I’m joking sir. Now. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, however I came from the administration office and still have the same level of access. I can update the information and file these and no-one else will see it. Unless they go looking of course.”

“Oh. You can do that?”

“Of course sir. Leave them with me. And congratulations.”

“Thank you Aubrey. For everything.”

… … …

He doesn’t know what he expected to change with Ice and Mav getting married. They aren’t suddenly more affectionate with each other, Mav doesn’t move absolutely everything in, although there isn’t much left at his house anyway. He does note the appearance of the rings though, thinks it’s softly sweet that they wear them but the thought then turns sad when he realizes that they still feel like they cannot let the wider world know. That despite everything they’re still keeping it a secret. A part of him understands, to have something so big have to be a very well-guarded secret for over two decades.

The extremes they both went to, to ensure that they weren’t found out. Marriages to women who fortunately knew and supported them and loved them and knowing that now, what his own parents must have known and done make him feel a little better about his own sexuality and journey. Knowing that they would have loved and supported him regardless. That Tamsin and Petra are here in the world because they added a legitimacy to Ice’s marriage, even though he knows both Ice and Sarah wanted kids and figured out the best way that could work for them. He looks at them all, Sarah and Melissa, Ica and Mav, their relationships with each other well over two decades and he doesn’t know the nitty-gritty of how they got together. Definitely isn’t going to ask, Mav tends toward over sharing and there are things he doesn’t need demystified.

That said he does wonder how he’s going to maybe manage a relationship. If he even wants one. He didn’t before. Had very firmly put it away as something he couldn’t have, not alongside having the career he has wanted for as long as he can remember. But now… fucking Seresin putting the idea in his head has got him thinking and maybe it’s something he could try. If he could find a guy to try it with. He doesn’t want it to be someone who is also in the service, that seems like a recipe for trouble. There are dating apps and clubs but he already uses those to hook up, case in point, Jake Seresin.

He does have people he can ask though; Chris and Pat. Nat’s cousin and his husband. They’re his age, well, a little older but not as old as Mav and Ice. More importantly they’re not in the military and probably know guys who are looking for… not just sex. Dating. He remembers them sending guys over and everything he learnt and now fondly remembers. Despite Christopher being Nat’s cousin he does count them as friends and so he finds himself reaching out, asking if he could maybe come and visit.

Of course there’s an open invitation and he finds himself there mid-week, not really wanting to give up his weekend time with Tamsin and Petra, even as they have busier social lives he still tries to shoehorn as much time with them as they’ll let him. He knocks on the door to Christopher and Patrick’s apartment, a different one from over eight years ago, but he has been here before a couple of years ago when he visited with Natasha.

“Bradley! Look at you. While I might not be a fan of the military I cannot argue with the output …”

Bradley grins, well used to Christopher’s flirty banter now after years of it, accepts the hug and kiss to the cheek and toes off his shoes and places them on the rack.

“Hey Christopher, nice to see you too. Thanks again for letting me come and stay.”

“You’re always welcome, you know that. Come on in, make yourself at home. You know where everything is right?”

“Yeah, assuming you haven’t done any major home renovations.”

“No, we have not. You want a drink?”

“Yeah, coffee would be good, but only if you’re making one yourself.”

“I’m making myself a cocktail. Want one of those instead?”

“Sure. Why not?” Bradley decides, because this conversation will probably go easier with a slightly looser tongue. He drops his bag in the guest room and heads back to the kitchen to find Christopher making coffee but also pouring vodka into a cocktail shaker along with a healthy amount of ice cubes.

“Alcohol and caffeine. So we can make bad decisions wide awake!”

“Well, I was actually after some life advice but sure, let’s start with bad decisions.”

“Life advice? From moi?”

“Yeah, you and Patrick. You two have your shit together.”

Christopher’s gaze goes sharp.

“Oh honey, I thought you were here for a booty call…”

“And you still let me invite myself?” Bradley asks, half-joking but also a little horrified that Christopher would think him that rude. Although coming to visit just so he can ask advice probably isn’t the best look either.

“I’m sorry, have you seen yourself. I’m married, not dead. And I didn’t mean a booty call with me and Patrick…”

Bradley startles a little, feels the heat in his cheeks, hot and immediate because he let himself be startled; caught off guard. Because he had imagined that when he was younger, the idea of somehow being with both of them. However he’d never pursued it or shown any interest, because he’s good at hiding all that, he hasn’t managed a decade in the Navy under DADT by having his every want and desire clearly on display in his face and body. It’s not really happened before. He might need to unlearn some things.

“I was joking but… interesting.”

He tries to ignore his embarrassment as Christopher makes the cocktails, his gaze flicking back to Bradley every so often. Then he’s sliding over a glass filled with a dark concoction that does indeed smell very strongly of both coffee and alcohol. He takes a sip and coughs.

“Shit that’s strong…”

“Hmm. Bottoms up!” Christopher says, eyes wicked and Bradley coughs again, shooting Christopher a look because yes, he did get the fucking innuendo.

“Babe! I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

He watches as Patrick gives Christopher a kiss hello and he’s struck with a sudden memory of his parents, bright laughter and easy affection. Huh.

“Hey Bradley, nice to see you again…” Patrick says, reaching out to shake his hand and Bradley accepts the handshake, ignores Christopher’s eyeroll.

“Hey Patrick, nice to see you too.”

… … …

He’s not sure quite how it happens, other than apparently couples seem to be able to hold entire conversations silently with their eyes. He lies there, feeling wrung out but a growing sense of unease growing in his gut that he’s just slept with a married couple. His first threesome and god, Natasha can never know.

“Well I sure as hell won’t be telling her,” Christopher says, and Bradley realizes he must have said something out loud.

“You’re over thinking this. You’re not going to ruin our marriage by being in our bed.”

“We’ve done this before,” Christopher adds and Patrick groans and Bradley bites his lip in amusement, because they’re still them, even here. Even if he’s becoming increasingly aware of his nakedness and feeling less comfortable himself. He hasn’t unpacked, maybe he should just get up and leave. He shifts but Patrick is there, hand pressing him back down.

“Uh uh uh… you aren’t running away. No sneaking out. There isn’t anything to be ashamed of. You came here to talk, and now we’ll talk. And we’ll all put some clothes on. Go have a shower in the guest bathroom and we can sit on the sofa and hear your troubles…”

Bradley wonders if making a quip about not minding either of them without their clothes on would be in appropriate or not and decides to keep his mouth shut. Clothes will help.

… … …

“So… help us understand what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want, that’s a whole part of the problem.”

“Well, what do you not want?” Patrick asks and Bradley scrubs at his face.

“I’m kind of over meaningless hookups.”

“Oops?” Christopher offers and he and Patrick both snort.

“So you want a relationship,” Patrick states and Bradley pulls a face.

“I guess?”

“Wow, ringing endorsement for relationships everywhere.”

“Christopher stop being so bitchy, it isn’t helping.”

“I… under don’t ask don’t tell I knew I couldn’t pursue a relationship. Not and have a career in the Navy.”

“So you’ve never…”

“I’ve never even gone on a date,” Bradley offers. “I don’t know if I’d be any good in a relationship. It seems like hard work.”

“And you’re definitely a stranger to hard work, what with going through the academy and then flight school being so easy and all.”

“Still bitchy, but he has a point. If you care about it, you put in the work.”

Bradley groan, because the advice is reminiscent of what Ice had said,

“Another silver lining from having sex with you, gives us a better idea of what you might like. Make sure you’d at least be sexually compatible.”

Bradley shrugs, because he’s never put that much thought into it, other than always wanting to ensure the other person wanted to be there and enjoyed themselves.

“You ever thought about entering the scene?”

“The scene?”

“Oh honey…”

That devolves into a whole other conversation and Bradley feels overwhelmed with information, glad that Patrick stops Christopher from going and getting their toys. Instead Patrick says he’ll send him some websites to read through, once he’s had time to process and consider it. He can’t imagine doing anything like that with someone he doesn’t already know really well, but there is also a definite interest in exploring and learning about it all.

He ends up talking about Jake, although he doesn’t mention his name. Just that the three nights and two days with Jake are pretty much the closest thing he’s ever had to dates, if they can even be called dates when it was simply filling time between rounds of sex. Annoyingly both Patrick and Christopher seem skeptical, like he should maybe consider pursuing something there and he shakes his head, insists he doesn’t want someone also in the service. Doesn’t mention how badly he feels that he’s likely burnt any and every bridge back to Jake. He’s not an option.

“You want training wheels.”

“What?”

“Like a trial run. A relationship with training wheels. Someone to practice with that lets you try it out but not something too serious. A guy that’s low maintenance.”

“That rules out over half your single friends,” Patrick says dryly. “They’re single for good reasons…” he says to Bradley, making his eyes wide to drive the point home and Bradley’s glad that he’s there. He’s calmer and more sensible than Christopher. Between them though he’s hoping they might have someone.

“What about Mike?”

“Bradley sees enough warzones, let’s save him from that one…”

“Fine. Andrew?”

“Andy or Drew?”

“Andy. Drew is back together with his ex. Again.”

“Ugh. Andy would be okay I guess. Maybe too much drama though? Drew would have been better.”

Bradley feels like he very much does not need to be here for the conversation they’re having. They go through several more names, one or both of them shaking their heads and he’s glad they’re being so picky and discerning on his behalf, but he is becoming more and more terrified of ever entering the dating scene on his own. It sounds like a minefield.

“What about Callum?”

“Oh. Hmm. Not a bad idea. And he’s actually local to you, having just moved there… he’d probably appreciate the introduction as well. He’s… yeah. Actually that might be the best one.”

“He’s a bit of a workaholic, which is why he’s single. But…”

“I’m not around for months at a time…”

“Yeah. Worth a shot right? At least a date or two?”

“Yeah, got nothing to lose right?”

“Just your first date virginity!”

“Yeah, okay, thanks for that Christopher…”

… … …

Neither he nor Ice are prepared for the arrival of the boyfriends.

Plural.

He doesn’t know if Tamsin and Bradley colluded to deal out the trauma simultaneously but it throws him and Ice both into an emotional tailspin. He knows Bradley is twenty-nine, likely has plenty of sexual experience given his little fieldtrips to New York and San Fransisco that he probably thinks he and Ice are blissfully ignorant of. Hell. He was young once. Tamsin though? She’s only fifteen no matter how much she argues that she’s turning sixteen soon.

Tamsin’s boyfriend is a sixteen-year-old kid that neither he nor Ice like, although Bradley tells them they’re being too harsh. Pete knows what he was like as a teenager, and what Bradley was like, and quite frankly he’s glad that both his daughters know how to defend themselves, even if Petra tends to the slightly more violent side of things.

Pete isn’t quite sure what to make of Bradley’s boyfriend. He’s nice enough, clearly cares for him, but also doesn’t seem to have the deep-rooted desire or passion that he’d hoped Bradley would find. It’s fine, it’s Bradley’s first boyfriend and Callum is smart and attentive but also doesn’t seem to get Bradley. Their interactions are friendly and easy, but that’s it he realizes. They act more like friends than anything else, careful distance always maintained and he wonders if Bradley is simply not into public displays of affection.

Then he watches more, sees how Bradley hugs both him and Ice, how he’s hugging Tamsin and Petra, pressing kisses to the tops of their heads when he can get away with it. He reminds Pete so much of Goose in those moments and he wonders what is stopping him showing the same with Callum. Callum who Bradley won’t even invite to the house for family dinner. They go out to restaurants, although he does know that Callum stays over at Bradley’s place, and he won’t be making that mistake again in a hurry. Or ever again if he can help it.

Fortunately, Petra seems to think that boys are disgusting, Pete hopes that she never changes her mind.

#Saga of Solitude #IceMav #Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #sereshaw

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