#this is another open letter to actors i like

[irhinoceri]

I've been watching Under the Banner of Heaven simply because it stars Andrew Garfield, but I am extremely underwhelmed by it... no, it's more like... I'm offput.

I am not someone who generally enjoys true crime shows, whether it's documentaries or dramatizations, so there's that. This may just be my general ish with that genre coming through.

But when I saw the project on Garfield's IMDb in upcoming projects I of course went to wikipedia to see what it was about, which lead to me reading the pertinent entries. You could say I "spoiled" myself. But if something is a historical event and the characters are based on real people, I don't think that spoilers should be an issue whatsoever.

And that's why it's rubbing me wrong. Three episodes in and it's unfolding super slow like a thriller, a whodunnit. And what's the point of doing all that when the identity of the killers and the outcome of the trial is a known fact? Feels cheap and weird. I'd rather they be up front about who did it.

In fact, that's what the book did. I read a sample of the ebook available through Libby, which gave about the first 100 pages of the book, and it starts out with the facts and then goes on to dive into the details and the history. And one of the things stated early on in the book is that Allan Lafferty accused his brother Ron of killing Brenda right away and that it took one night of questioning for the police to believe him and go after Ron. But the TV show has days passing and Allan is portrayed having multiple separate long stupid rambling conversations about Mormon history with the police Detective all without ever actually saying who he thinks killed his wife and baby. And I guess that's because they want to capture the history aspect of the book in a way that feels organic to the situation, but it's not working. Every time we're on a long tangent about Joseph Smith I'm like.... how is this helping? It makes Allan look like someone who doesn't actually want his brother to be arrested for murdering his wife and child and that's pretty shitty thing to do in the name of dramatic tension or suspense or whatever.

The other thing that rubs me all kinds of wrong is that Garfield is playing a fictional character, Officer Jeb Pyre, and as he is the top billed actor and such, it's strange. This is a story about a horrific murder that happened within a family and the main character is a fake cop. There's a lot of screen time devoted to Jeb Pyre's family life, and once I realized that he was not a real historical figure I was like "The fuck?" Why are we spending all this time on these made up characters when it's a true crime story?

I wonder if Jeb Pyre and his family and everything happening with them separate from the Laffertys is just a shorthand way to try to portray what a normal mainstream modern Mormon family in the 80s was like, to contrast with the Laffertys. Which is fine, I guess, though it feels more to me like the people writing the show can't conceive of a crime story that doesn't star a cop and they find their cop OC more interesting than the real people involved.

[angelltheninth]

Roommate Yuuji Itadori Catches You Watching Porn

Pairing: Yuuji Itadori x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, roommates to lovers, voyeurism, caught masturbating, couch sex, blowjob, toy use, watching porn together, couch sex

A/N: Got another roommate Yuuji thing that I'm working on but I wanted to write this one first.

Roommate!Yuuji has always looked at you like you were special. From the moment the two of you moved in together he tried to be a good roommate, always knocking before entering your room and getting so flustered if he saw you in any state of undress.

Roommate!Yuuji kept his lewd desires to himself, always masturbating in the shower in the morning or very late at night when you're asleep. He would sometimes hear you if he got home late but not wanting to embarrass you he didn't say anything about it.

Roommate!Yuuji had no idea that you were the kind of person to masturbate in the living room. Then again he was supposed to be gone for the rest of the day and he was very quiet when he walked in. He could only see you from the back but there was no mistaking the distinct sloppy sounds of you fucking your pussy and the loud moaning coming from the tv screen.

Roommate!Yuuji wanted to pass by but he paused hard when he saw you were watching an actor who looked a lot like him, older but still pretty close. Not only that but you were fucking yourself with a pretty pink dildo, the exact same color as his hair and moaning the first few letters of his name. His cock was so hard, there was no way he could let it go down on it's own now.

Roommate!Yuuji didn't mean to scare you so much you dropped the dripping dildo on the couch. Fuck, your nipples are hard too, he wanted to suck them so badly. His cock was in his hand, hard and leaking with cum from watching you. He feels like a total perv but his horniness is bigger then his shame. And with your mouth open like that it looks perfect for fucking.

Roommate!Yuuji wants to confess before he does anything. If he read your signals wrong he can move back with his old roommate. Was he wrong, or do you love him back, lust for him? Yeah? That is really good because he's been pining for months. You want him to ask you out on a proper date of course but he's the one who interrupted you, so you think he should take responsibility and help you finish. Oh you're embarrassed for getting seen, but you want to suck his cock more.

Roommate!Yuuji braces against the couch as you suck him off and finger yourself at the same time. He's still looking at the tv screen wondering how many times did you get yourself off to stuff like this while thinking about him. You won't have to anymore, you live in the same apartment, whenever you feel horny come to him, he'll fuck you any time you want. His cock is at your disposal.

Roommate!Yuuji finishes on your face before he sees another porn start playing with the same actor, this time he's fucking his co-star over the couch. Would you like that too? What else would you wanna try? Tell him about the porn you watched and he'll fuck you just like that. He doesn't mind watching it with you. It can be a good way to get fammiliar with each others tastes.

Roommate!Yuuji is following the exact rhythm from the porn you're watching, but his touch feels more gentle, his words too being ones of love and praise, how he finally has your warm pussy after so many dirty dreams. He will try his best to please you, he swears it. It's probably gonna take a while for the two of you to get rid off all the pent up desire, not really a bad thing if you ask him.

Roommate!Yuuji finishes inside of you just like the actor in the porn did. This is his first time giving anyone a creampie and he thinks he's already addicted. Not just that he's officially addicted to fucking your pretty pussyhole, it feels like fate to him that you became roommates because no one else ever made him feel so happy and complete.

[fadedncity]

safety net

wc: 4.6k

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: smut, bsf!jeno, friends to lovers, non idol au, haunted attractions, reader has coulrophobia (a fear of clowns), use of fake blood, (soft)dom!jeno, teasing, pet names, multiple orgasms, choking, manhandling, spanking, fingering, praise kink, oral sex (receiving/giving), protected sex, aftercare…pretty sure that’s it

You could hear the screams coming from inside as you and your friends moved up in the line. You nervously bounced on the balls of your feet, glancing at every person passing, keeping an eye out for the horror actors who were going around jump-scaring patrons.

Jeno noticed you become more anxious, unable to stop fidgeting.

"You're not too thrilled about this, are you?" he asks.

"What would make you say that?" you furrow your brows, clearly unaware of it written all over you.

"You seem a little on edge."

"What? No, I'm fine-" You turn to find the presence you felt creeping up behind you. You're face to face with a clown mask and almost jump out of your skin, letting out a small shriek.

But hearing Haechan's laugh, your fear quickly turns into anger as the boy pulls the mask away.

"Donghyeok, I swear I'm gonna fucking-" You lunged at him, only to be stopped by two strong arms.

"We don't need you laying him out here in the park before we even get to the door," Jeno says.

You grumbled, "Fine, but if he's missing from the headcount after this you know what happened," you glared at the Gemini, flipping him off as he stuck his tongue out at you.

"You know we don't have to do this you know, you and I can get off the line now." Jeno offers you one last out as the line continues to grow behind you.

"I know. I'll be fine. I just hate clowns," you peer over Jeno's shoulder at the actor in the clown costume standing across the lot, scaring other passersby in the park.

"I won't let anything happen to you, alright? I promise." Jeno says reassuringly.

"Thank you, Jen," you smile at him.

Your friends were the next group in line to enter the attraction. The big glaring neon letters in bright red, reading Hollow's Horror above the entrance, followed by a disclaimer of what could happen once you're inside. 

"So you gonna make a move tonight?" Minjeong whispers.

"What?" you ask.

"You and Jeno," she nods to the boy ahead of you, talking to Jaemin.

"Me and Jeno are just friends."

"Yeah, okay," Minjeong sarcastically nodded, "'I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.'" She mimicked Jeno's voice, and you elbow her.

"Hey, Johnny, you sure no one's ever died inside this thing?" Renjun asks the seasonal employee.

"Few people have passed out or accidentally injured themselves running and tripping over something, so the EMTs are on standby," Johnny answers. "All I'll say is the more scared you are, the more they're likely to go after you," he says, looking your way like he's talking to you directly. "But no, no one has died. Yet," Johnny says with a wicked grin as the doors open and your group is ushered inside. 

"Yet?? Did he just say yet?" Ningning questions as Jimin drags her along inside. 

You all stood in the dimly lit room, listening to Ten as he went over the rules and guidelines of the attraction. Minjeong unsubtly nudged you in Jeno's direction, causing you to stumble into him, and you shoot her a death glare over your shoulder.

"You ready?" Jeno asks you.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you sigh, following everyone else into the haunted house. 

. . .

"How'd I even get talked into this? Everyone else could be dead for all we know."

"You know damn well everyone's fine. We just got separated." Jeno says, continuing to lead the way, "Look, Chenle's still on live with Jisung and Ningning," he shows his phone, and you see Chenle hysterically laughing as the three of them are chased through a corn maze by an actor with a chainsaw.

"Of course he is, he loves this shit," you shake your head, peering around the corner on the lookout for another scarer.

"Come on, we're almost out," Jeno nodded in the direction of another doorway.

"How are you sure?"

"Yangyang's been raving about this thing since Hendery went last year. He's watched all the vlogs and read all the reviews. He practically has his own blueprint of this place, and I'm pretty sure the funhouse is one of the last."

The first three letters were scratched out and replaced with others to spell out Bloodhouse instead, and you glare at Jeno.

"Oh come on, you gotta be shitting me," you protest, hearing the circus-themed music grow louder. 

"You can do this, I have faith in you," Jeno holds out his hand, "And I'll be with you the entire time."

You let out a displeased sigh as you take Jeno's hand and follow him into the hall of mirrors. 

"Just try to relax and stay calm. If they smell your fear they'll come for you," Jeno whispers dramatically.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Maybe. But if it didn't, you know I still got you," Jeno reassuringly squeezed your hand. 

You let Jeno take the lead, holding his hand firmly as he guided you through the maze of electronic attractions, jumping out at the both of you as you passed them by. 

Jeno was seemingly moving fast through the poorly lit room, wanting to get you out as soon as possible. But the next corner you turn, you find two actors dressed as killer clowns shuffling around, awaiting their next victims.

Jeno feels your body tense up as you lock eyes with one of them.

"Stay calm," he says as both clowns stalk toward you.

"I can't," you say, your breathing becoming heavy. 

"Okay, so we run," he says.

Still holding hands, the maniacal laughter follows you both down a narrow hallway, where you feel hands grab at you both through the railings. But just as you both escape the hands grabbing at you, the sprinklers above your heads go off, spraying you and Jeno in fake blood.

Still processing all the red you're seeing, neither of you has the chance to react as another clown jumps out at you, yelling, "Give Lucky a big smile!"

You instantly grab Jeno, screaming bloody murder as a bright flash goes off. The actor shoved the Polaroid into Jeno's hands as the evil laughter grew louder and louder, more actors swarming you both. With his arms around you, Jeno takes you the rest of the way out of the haunted walk-through.

Complimentary towels were offered to you and Jeno as you exited the attraction with I Survived the Night at Hollow's Horror embroidered into the fabric. 

Still, in a bit of shock, it takes a second for you to register that it's over, and you're now back in the crowd of the theme park.

"Oh thank god, we're done," you practically collapse into Jeno's arms, "I couldn't take anymore of that."

"You okay?"

"Might have nightmares for a few days, but I'll live," you wipe your face clean of the fake blood.

"Well guess what, you did it. I'm proud of you," Jeno says, causing warmth to bloom in your chest.

"Holy shit, what the hell happened to you guys?" a familiar voice grabs both of your attention.

You and Jeno find most of your friends crowded outside, waiting for you and the few others still inside.

"They definitely got the bloodhouse," Jaemin said.

Haechan erupted into laughter, "Of course you did out of all people."

"You know Haechan just cause you made it through the haunted house doesn't guarantee you'll make it through the rest of the night." you started, but Jeno immediately put himself between you both.

"We survived!" Chenle yells triumphantly.

He runs toward your group with Jisung and Ningning not too far behind, all three of them wrapped up in their own complementary towels.

"Why are you guys wet?" Jimin asks.

"We ended up in the shark tank," Jisung says, chittering his teeth.

"Shark tank!? And this thing is legal??" Aeri asks.

"They definitely weren't real sharks," Yangyang says.

"You sure about that? Cause the teeth on that thing looked pretty real," Ningning said, hugging the towel tighter around herself. 

"Who cares? We're definitely coming back next year." Chenle declares.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

. . .

"You didn't have to drive me home. I could've gone with Jimin," you say once on the front steps of your house.

"I know I didn't have to," Jeno shrugs, "But I wanted to."

"Well, thank you. Not just the ride but everything tonight. I don't know if I would've survived without you," you say lightheartedly.

"I promised you I wouldn't let anything happen to you, didn't I?"

You laugh, "Goodnight, Jeno."

"Goodnight," he says.

But neither of you move, your hand resting on the doorknob, wordlessly staring at Jeno.

"Everything okay?" Jeno asks.

"Yeah," you nod.

"Cause this is the part where you take out your keys and unlock the door so I know you've made it inside safely before I leave," he says, "Unless you don't want me to leave-" you cut him off with your lips on his.

Jeno's hands reach for your waist and pull you closer. You curl your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Your hands find his hair, raking your fingers through the stiff strands dried with food dye and corn syrup.

"Do you wanna come in?" you ask.

"Do you want me to come in?" he retorts.

"You could at least come inside to wash up. It's the least I can offer."

. . .

The steam left from your shower poured out of the bathroom the second you opened the door and stepped into your bedroom, now wearing clean clothes.

"Whatcha looking at?" you ask, rubbing the last of your moisturizer into your hands.

You find Jeno on your bed, redressed in new clothes; a shirt, and some sweatpants he left at your place a while ago. You climb onto your bed, sit beside him, and see the Polaroid picture Jeno's looking at in his hands.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this," you take the picture as Jeno hands it to you.

"This is officially my favorite picture."

"Why? I look crazy!" you point to the terrified expression the photographer caught while you were mid-scream.

"I kinda think it's cute, I mean look at us. You're clinging onto me for dear life. I thought I was gonna lose my arm," Jeno jokes.

"Alright, you know what, I've had enough of you," you playfully roll your eyes, ready to stand and walk away. But Jeno doesn't give you the chance to get too far, grabbing your waist and pulling you back down into his lap.

"Well, that's too bad, because I definitely haven't gotten enough of you," he rubs his hands over your thighs as you lean closer.

You smile against Jeno's lips, cupping his face as you kiss him. Jeno rests his hand on your lower back, pressing firmly against your spine. You comb your fingers through his damp hair and swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips. As your tongues clash, Jeno's hands cup your ass, subtly directing you to roll your hips into his allowing you to feel the bulge in his pants.

"Wait-" Jeno stops kissing you.

"Oh my god, did I completely miss read this?" you drop your hands from his face.

"No, no," Jeno quickly clarifies, taking your hands in his, "It's just I don't want you to think I just wanna sleep with you."

"Oh."

"I mean, no, trust me I do—god knows how bad I want to. But I wanna be clear that I like you, y/n. Like really like you. And I need you to know that I'm not just using you—"

"Hey," you cut off his rambling, "I know you're not like that," you stroke his cheek, and Jeno sheepishly smiles, "So you like me, huh? Like really like me?" you teasingly smirk, resting your arms over his shoulders.

"You really think I would've just let Haechan drag me out tonight if you weren't gonna be there. You know I don't really care for that type of stuff. But for you…" he trails off.

"It's funny you say that, because I was pretty adamant about not going until Aeri told me you were."

"Sounds like we're pretty perfect for each other," Jeno says with a laugh.

"I mean it's not like nothing good came out of this," you smile, kissing his lips.

"No, lie there."

You softly nibble down on his bottom lip, making him quietly groan. You feel his fingers dig into your hips, lightly scratching his nails down your exposed thighs, causing you to gasp against his lips. Jeno takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes the remaining fruity flavor of the gummies you were chewing on in the car on your lips.

Your hips drag against Jeno's, and you feel his cock through your shorts.

Jeno pulls you flush against his body and begins softly pressing kisses down the side of your neck, making you moan and arch into his touch.

"Jen," you call his name.

"Yeah, princess?" you almost moan as the pet name rolls off his tongue.

"I need you."

"I'm right here, baby. Can't think to be anywhere else right now. I'm all yours."

Jeno switches places with you, laying you down on the bed, your lips still attached.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, angel?"

"Please," you nod.

Jeno admired you as you lay beneath him. "Just tell me if it's too much, you wanna stop, or even if you just need a break, okay?"

You nod, just hoping he'd touch you already.

"I'm gonna need words, pretty."

"Okay," you reassuringly nod again.

Jeno softly kisses your lips, and you feel his hand roam your body, kneading every place he can reach except where you want him most.

"You're so beautiful, princess," Jeno smirks, slipping his hands under your shirt and palming your breasts. You mewl into his touch as he started lifting your shirt. "So, so pretty," he hums, eyeing your perky nipples before he lowers himself and takes one into his mouth.

With his tongue swirling around your areola, Jeno had his hand occupied with your other nipple, rolling and tweaking it between his fingers.

Curling your fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck, you moan and arch your back into his mouth. You squirm beneath his body, the ache between your legs growing even stronger.

"Patience, baby," Jeno pulls away from you, "I like taking my time," he runs his hands up your thighs, softly squeezing your flesh.

"You know I'm not known for my patience," you say.

"Guess you better learn quickly then."

One of his fingers lightly trailed up your inner thigh. He took his finger and traced your clothed slit with a feather-light touch. You tried to raise your hips against his hand. But he pins your hips to the bed.

Jeno tsks, shaking his head. "You want something, angel, you gotta ask for it."

"Touch me," you breathe out.

"I am, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean," you say, irritation evident in your tone.

"No, I'm not sure. You want me to touch you here?" Jeno asks, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"Yes," you buck your hips into his hand.

"Yes, what?"

"Please, Jeno," you frustratedly fist the sheets.

"Come on, sweetheart. I wanna hear you say it," his tone is soft as he applies more pressure to your clit.

"Fuck. Just fucking touch my pussy, Jen, please," you beg.

"Atta girl," he praised. "Wasn't so hard just using your words, now was it." he smiled as he removed your shorts along with your underwear.

"Fuck off-" your words are choked up by a moan as Jeno's fingers sink inside you.

"What was that?" Jeno asks, but you can't respond other than with another moan, "That's what I thought."

Jeno scissors his two fingers against your soft walls. The muscles in his arms flex every time he pumps his digits in and out of you.

"Feels good, huh, baby?" he watches your face twist up in pleasure as he curls his fingers.

"Yes."

He plants a few kisses on your face, "You want more?"

"Please, Jen, I need more. It feels so good," 

"That's it, princess. Taking my fingers like such a good girl."

"Don't stop. Please-" The stretch of Jeno's three fingers made it harder to think. Jeno watched his fingers disappear inside you, reappearing with a layer of slick coating them.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. I've got you," Jeno talks you through it.

You weren't watching him, but you felt the bed shift.

"Oh my god!" you cry.

The most beautiful sound Jeno's ever heard came from your lips as he took your clit into his mouth. He directed one of your legs over his shoulder as he buried his face deeper between your legs.

"Come on, sweetness, say my name. Tell me who's making you feel so good."

"Jeno~"

He purred before dropping his head back down. Jeno wrapped his arms under your thighs, spreading your legs further apart. You writhed and thrashed in his hold, attempting to grind your hips against his mouth, but his strength never let up. Jeno's strong arms held you right where he wanted you. He lapped at your folds, using his fingers to part your lips, revealing your leaking hole, clenching around nothing.

Jeno hummed before delving back in. His eyes fluttered shut as he wiggled his tongue inside of you.

"Jen—fuck. I'm gonna-"

"Cum? You wanna cum for me?" he slipped his fingers back into your pussy.

"Yes, please, Jeno! I wanna cum for you," you whine.

You grab Jeno's wrist, rolling your hips against his hand as he curls his fingers just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you.

"Please-" you gasp.

Jeno kissed your thigh. "Cum," he practically growled.

Jeno sucked on your clit as your noises got louder. His fingers curled against your soft, gummy walls, and the obscene squelching of your juices mixing with his saliva filled your ears.

Your back arched off the bed, your fingers pulling at the roots of Jeno's hair. Your legs fought against his strength, threatening to close around his head.

"Jeno—ah!"

You quietly whimper when his fingers easily slip out of you. Your eyes blinked in and out of focus as Jeno licked his fingers clean with a delighted hum. He checks on you, softly cradling your face.

"Look at me," Jeno says, "Are you alright?" 

"Mhm," you nod, "You know it's been a minute since someone else has made me cum. That hard, especially."

"Which is why I was more than happy to do for you, baby," He kisses your lips, "I don't know if I would've been able to handle hearing about another one of your pathetic hookups," he mumbled.

You raise your brows and kiss your teeth, "You're one to talk. I'd rather have brunch with Pennywise than hear one more story about someone else's mind blowing orgasm from your supposed magic tongue."

"Are you saying my magic tongue didn't just give you a mind blowing orgasm?" Jeno raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up," you cross your arms over your chest.

"Aww, don't get like that, angel," Jeno uncrosses your arms. "Would it make you feel better to know I've never been that close to cumming untouched. Just from eating you out," he says, motioning toward the prominent outline in his shorts, and you notice the darkened spot of precum staining the material.

"How close?" you ask, sitting up with a smile threatening to spread on your face.

"Very close."

"Yeah?" you place your hand in his lap and start palming him over his clothes. "At least let me return the favor, you've been so good to me, Jen, let me make you feel good too," you gently trace the outline of his cock, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

He gave you a nod, and you pulled his cock out of his pants, grasping his length in his hand. Jeno hisses as you slowly jerk your wrist, teasing his tip with your thumb. Wasting no more time, you took his cock into your mouth, welcoming the weight of him on your tongue. You hummed around him, letting the salty precum coat your tastebuds.

You look up at him through your lashes, seeing him intently watching your ministrations. You lick a long stripe along the underside of his cock, his eyes refusing to leave your face, and they threaten to shut.

Spit dribbled out of your mouth onto his cock, assisting your hand in pumping the base. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, softly sucking the angry red tip.

"Holy shit," Jeno groaned. The hand resting on your head gently grasped your hair, lightly tugging your head back. "I'm gonna fucking spoil you," he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

You collapse back onto your bed to watch as Jeno grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it over his head, and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth seeing his adonis-like figure above you.

Jeno smiles, his ego definitively inflated a bit as he kicks off his sweats along with his boxers. Hooking his arms under your thighs, Jeno pulls you away from the head of the bed and back toward him.

As Jeno looked at you, the most unholy thoughts ran rampant through his mind.

"God, I love seeing you like this," he kissed your chest, "All I wanna do is ruin you," he darkly smiled.

"Please do," you grin before he sinks two fingers into your pussy.

Your eyes roll back, feeling his fingers wiggle against your soft walls.

"Such a needy little thing you are," Jeno said as he added another finger.

"Just for you," you moan.

You let out a small whine in protest when Jeno removes his fingers, using your juices on his hand to pump his cock.

"Get on your hands and knees for me?" Jeno's question comes out more like a gentle order, and you roll over onto your stomach, raising your hips into the air.

While you reposition yourself, having familiarized himself with your room, Jeno reaches into your nightstand, retrieving a condom for himself.

"This is definitely a view I can get used to," Jeno runs his hand down your spine before harshly bringing his hand down on your right asscheek, making you moan.

"Come on, Jen," you mewl, pushing your hips back into his as he rolls the condom onto his length.

"So impatient," he tsked, "Can't even properly admire you, baby," he smacked the other side of your ass.

"Jeno!"

His laugh melted into a deep groan as he slid his cock into you. 

"Oh my god," your eyes roll back, and your jaw clenches.

"Yeah?"

"You feel so fucking deep. Feels so good,"

"Pussy feels so goddamn good around me. It's like you're perfectly meant to take my cock, princess."

Jeno pulled both of your arms behind your back, holding your wrists with only one of his hands, using them to pull you back onto his cock repeatedly. You whined shamelessly into the sheets as Jeno continued to fuck you into the mattress.

You know right here and now isn't the ideal time for this thought to occur to you, but knowing Jeno's heard about every aspect of your sex life, and has remembered things you've mindlessly mentioned being into in passing, only causes you to lose any sort of composure you had left. You hold onto his wrist, moaning carelessly, your pussy choking Jeno's cock as it moves rhythmically in and out of your soaking cunt.

Jeno's movements started to pick up, and the harsh sound of his hips slamming into yours filled your ears beyond your own cries and whimpers.

"Jen, please I'm-"

"Yeah, come on, baby, give it to me," he rasped in your ear, "Cum for me."

You could feel Jeno's cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy. Jeno quickly pulled out of you before he also came, flaring his nostrils and clenching his jaw when he denied himself from cumming just yet.

Pressing kisses up your spine, Jeno asks, "Think you got one more for me?" slipping his middle finger into your overstimulated cunt.

A moan squeals out of your lips, and you nod. With ease, Jeno rolls you back over, pulling your legs apart to settle between them.

"Such a needy little cock slut. You already love the way I fill you up, don't you?" he asks, running the tip of his cock up your slit.

"Love it so much." you nod eagerly.

Your eyes roll back as Jeno bottoms out once more. 

"If only you could see yourself, princess," Jeno softly wraps his hand around your throat, "All fucked out and taking all of me like a good girl." Between Jeno's fingers lightly squeezing the sides of your neck and his words, your head was spinning.

The intense pleasure came over you, you couldn't piece together words anymore. Jeno smiled, hearing your incoherent babbling.

"J-Jeno..oh my god, ple-ease!" you cried.

You blinked your glossy eyes up at Jeno as he slowed down but deepened his strokes. You smiled, feeling how deep he was inside you, and you could feel your body teetering the edges of your third orgasm of the night.

"Dumb little princess," he crooned, "Have I already fucked you stupid, baby?"

Flustered by his words, you laugh, "Yes, yes, yes, Jen! please don't stop," you arch your back.

"That's my pretty girl," Jeno deeply rolled his hips into yours. "Let me know how good I'm making you feel."

"It's so good, it's so go-ood, Jeno, m'gonna cum," you whine.

"Go ahead and soak my cock, angel," he grunted.

Red streaks decorate Jeno's arm as your nails dig into his skin, another earth-shattering orgasm slamming into you.

"Th-thank you—fuck—thank you," you cried, tears of pleasure pricking at your eyes. You could hear how heavy Jeno's breathing has become and know he's not too far behind you.

"Mhm, such a good girl," Jeno's voice drops a few octaves as his hips stutter, filling the latex with his cum.

Your legs were trembling as they fell against Jeno's. He gently caressed your face, waiting for you to come back down to him.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Much more than," you smile.

"Happy to hear. Just give me a minute." Jeno says, softly kissing your lips before slipping out of your pussy, disposing of the condom, and pulling his sweatpants back on as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Jeno quickly returned with a wet cloth to wipe away the stickiness clinging to your skin.

Once he was done, you sat up and let Jeno pull you into his arms. The usual annoyance of your clammy skin sticking to his hadn't bothered you much as you just wanted to be in his arms.

"What're you thinking about?" Jeno's voice breaks the silence.

"Hm?" you snap out of your thoughts.

"You're quiet. I can tell there's a lot going through your mind right now."

"A lot of things pertaining you, yes."

"I meant what I said earlier. I really do like you."

"I know…I kinda really like you too."

You swear his eyes sparkled as a smile broke out on his face, "You have no idea how much it means to hear that. I was too afraid I would've messed something up between us."

"And I thought I was the only one here who faces their fears tonight," you say before planting a kiss on his lips.

"Are you sure there isn't anything you need I can get for you?" he asks.

"I'm all good right here." You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his, "This is all I need."

a/n: this was especially for the five of you that had already seen this last week when I accidentally posted 😭😭 thank you for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33

edit: i can’t believe i let all of y’all read this with this many typos and shit 😭 i swear i wasn’t done editing but this was the second time it accidentally posted from my drafts and i just said fuck it 🚶🏽‍♀️

[carpe-mamilia]

Ghosts’ Larry Rickard Explains Why They Chose the Captain’s First Name

Photo: Monumental,Guido Mandozzi

It couldn’t be a joke. That was one rule laid down by the Ghosts creators when it came to choosing a first name for Willbond’s character. Until series five, the WWII ghost had been known only as The Captain – a mystery seized upon by fans of the show.

“It was the question we got asked more than anything. His name,” actor and writer Larry Rickard tells Den of Geek. “Once we got to series three, you could see that we were deliberately cutting away and deliberately avoiding it. We were fuelling the fire because we knew at some point we’d tell them.”

In “Carpe Diem”, the episode written by Rickard and Ben Willbond that finally reveals The Captain’s death story, they did tell us. After years of guessing, clue-spotting and debate, Ghosts revealed that The Captain’s first name is James. At the same time, we also learned that James’ colleague Lieutenant Havers’ first name was Anthony.

The ordinariness of those two names, says Rickard, is the point.

“The only thing we were really clear about is that we didn’t want one of those names that only exists in tellyland. It shouldn’t be ‘Cormoran’ or ‘Endeavour’. They should just be some men’s names and they’re important to them. The point was that they were everyday.”

Choosing first names for The Captain and Havers was a long process not unlike naming a baby, Rickard agrees. “It almost comes down to looking at the faces of the characters and saying, what’s right?”

“We talked for ages. For a long time I kept thinking ‘Duncan and James’, and then I was like ah no! That would have turned it into a gag and been awful!” Inescapably in the minds of a certain generation, Duncan James is a member of noughties boyband Blue. “Maybe with Anthony I was thinking of Anthony Costa!” Rickard says in mock horror, referencing another member of the band.

Lieutenant Havers wasn’t just The Captain’s second in command while stationed at Button House; he was also the man James loved. Because homosexuality was criminalised in England during James’ lifetime, he was forced to hide his feelings for Anthony from society, and to some extent even from himself.

In “Carpe Diem”, the ghosts (mistakenly) prepare for the last day of their afterlives, prompting The Captain to finally tell his story. Though not explicit about his sexual identity, the others understand and accept what he tells them – and led by Lady Button, all agree that he’s a brave man.

Getting the balance right of what The Captain does and doesn’t say was key to the episode. “It wasn’t just a personal choice of his to go ‘I’m going to remain in the closet’,” explains Rickard. “There wasn’t an option there to explore the things that either of them felt. That couldn’t be done back then – there are so many stories which have come out since the War about the dangers of doing that.

“We wanted to tell his personal story but also try to ensure that there was a level at which you understood why they couldn’t be open, that even in this moment where he’s finally telling the other ghosts his story, he never comes out and says it overtly because that would be too much for him as a character from that time.

“He says enough for them to know, and enough for him to feel unburdened but it’s in the fact that they’re using their first names which militarily they would never have done, and in the literal passing of the baton”.

The baton is a bonus reveal when fans learned that The Captain’s military stick wasn’t a memento of his career, but of Havers. As James suffers a fatal heart attack during a VE day celebration at Button House, Anthony rushes to his side and the stick passes from one to the other as they share a moment of tragic understanding.

“From really early on, we had the idea that anything you’re holding [when you die] stays with you. So it wasn’t just your clothes you were wearing, we had the stuff with Thomas’ letter reappearing in his pocket and so on. And the assumption being that it was something The Captain couldn’t put down, it felt so nice to be able to say it was something he didn’t want to put down.”

Rickard lists “Carpe Diem”, co-written with Ben Willbond, among his series five highlights. He’s pleased with the end result, praises Willbond’s performance, and loved being on set to see Button House dressed for the 1940s. He’s particularly pleased that a checklist of moments they wanted to land with the audience all managed to be included. “Normally something’s fallen by the wayside just because of the way TV’s made, it’s always imperfect or it’s slightly rushed, but it feels like it’s all there.”

Rickard and Willbond also knew by this point in the show’s lifetime, that they could trust Ghosts fans to pick up on small details. “Nothing is missed,” he says. “Early on, you’re always thinking, is that going to get across? But once we got to series five, there are little tiny things within corners of shots and you know that’s going to be spotted. Particularly in that very short exchange between Havers and the Captain. We worried less about the minutiae of it because you go, that’s going to be rewound and rewatched, nothing will be missed.”

The team were also grateful they’d resisted the temptation to tell The Captain’s story sooner. “We’d talked about it every series since series two, whether or not now was the time, but because he’s such a hard and starchy character in a lot of ways you needed the time to understand his softer side I think before you had that final honest beat from him.”

“What a ridiculously normal name to have so much weight put on it for five years,” laughs Rickard fondly. “Good old James.”

From Den of Geek

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🧡 Kid Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🧡 the wonderlands by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci {M, 150k}

"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."

Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

🧡 Flour and Chocolate by teaandtumblr {M, 145k}

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

 OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

🧡 Face Your Fears by @sadaveniren {E, 92k}

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

🧡 Just Pretend by @kingsofeverything {E, 90k}

Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn't date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she's spending the weekend with her mom.

Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they're dating to keep their kids happy.

🧡 Standing on the Edge of Forever by EllaO {M, 55k}

“So let me get this straight. You took Mr. Squiggles from the classroom habitat, took him with you on your fieldtrip to the zoo, and released him in the aviary?”

Harry Styles is a single father, just trying to keep his life organized after losing his husband four years earlier. Between his daughter, Liam's hellion twins, and Sophia throwing him into any romantic tangle she can think of, life gets a little crazy. Of course, everything changes the moment Lo and the twins get interested in their school musical, The Wizard of Oz. Because the new director, Louis Tomlinson, is just about the most attractive man that Harry has ever seen.

Featuring adorable Dad Harry, hotshot actor Louis, three sassy kids, a badass Sophia Smith, and a Liam who just wants all their kids to be well behaved.

🧡 A Life That We Share (I Owe It All to You) by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 50k}

When Harry's son came home from school crying he didn't think things could get any worse. Lucky for them, things were just about to change for the best.

or Harry's son get bullied until Louis' son shows up :)

🧡 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie {E, 46k}

Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.

Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.

A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.

🧡 hymns for restless stars by @turnyourankle {E, 37k}

Every Holiday season Louis has his pupils write down their Christmas wishes for class. He's read almost every wish under the sun, but one girl's wish takes him by surprise. It's for her uncle not to be alone anymore. It's not a wild wish by any means, but Louis had no idea that former teen idol Harry Styles was lonely in the first place.

🧡 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 {E, 30k}

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

🧡 Love is a Compass by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {M, 27k}

Louis smiled to himself, knowing what Cameron was hinting at. “Did you want to stay with me in my warm bed?”

Cameron nodded as he slipped his thumb back into mouth, fighting to keep his eyes open now. “Please, Lou.”

“Sure. get some sleep, okay?” Louis hugged him tighter and closed his own eyes, his arms heavy with the weight of the little boy they were wrapped around. Just as Louis was dozing off, his eyes too heavy to keep open anymore, he heard whispered words that shattered his heart into a million more pieces.

“Please don’t go to heaven too, Lou.”

Harry waltzes into Louis’ life when everything seems to be crumbling around him. A dad overnight, grief stricken and learning to be a parent as he goes, Harry helps to bring light, laughter and, of course, baked goods back into their lives.

🧡 Enchanted by @brightgolden {E, 25k}

“My close friends usually call me H,” Harry mumbles suddenly after Louis wraps up his story.

That’s unexpected. “Are you telling me I’m your close friend now?” Louis quips, squinting his eyes at Harry.

OR Where Louis finally meets his neighbour. After a few conversations, he begins to realise he is too weak to resist the charms of the new mother and his six month old daughter.

🧡 Barefoot in Blue Jeans by @indiaalphawhiskey {E, 24k}

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

🧡 Home for Christmas by @haloeverlasting {G, 22k}

The Shameless Hallmark Movie AU you probably didn't ask for.

Or, the one where Harry didn't think he wanted a family, but with a little Christmas magic (and maybe one Louis Tomlinson) he realizes that he is very, very wrong.

🧡 Took Me by Surprise by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {M, 20k}

Louis Tomlinson and his best friend Bridget had a daughter when they were very young and he was on the brink of becoming the next MLS star. Until he blew out his knee.

A decade later, he's the head anchor of the American version of Match of the Day and is raising the coolest nine-year-old on the planet, who happens to be obsessed with Harry Styles - popstar, musician, and all-around household name.

🧡 The Baby Whisperer by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 18k}

Harry’s newborn baby is having trouble sleeping and nothing he does seems to work. Tired and alone and at his wits end, Harry is at a loss until a new neighbour arrives to turn his world upside down.

OR the one where being neighbourly takes on a whole new meaning.

🧡 Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry {E, 16k}

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

🧡 You're A Universe by Jiksa / @jiksax {E, 15k}

Harry doesn’t ever mean to hurt him; Louis doesn’t know how to tell him that it’s the only thing he ever does anymore.

Or, Louis’s a stay-at-home dad in London and Harry’s a business expat in Qatar. Louis doesn’t know how much longer their marriage can survive the distance.

🧡 reckless behaviour by @nouies {E, 13k}

Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

🧡 It'll Be by @styleandsin {E, 13k}

Louis has always wanted children and he decides he's done waiting for love to come first. However, after adopting a baby girl just days after she's born, he quickly realizes how hard parenting is. Louis hires Harry to be his Nanny, and it all works out great. Until Louis falls in love with him.

🧡 How It Begins (series) by @phdmama {E, 8k}

New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate.

Or is it?

[tinfairies]

Well first of all I hope you are having a good day/night and secondly what do you think of yandere's reaction Aegon* Aemond* Daemon* (separated) let's pretend that his wife (reader) noticed his unhealthy tendencies and decided escape from them to another kingdom and they search for her a year passes and they finally find her and see that she has a baby with white hair and violet eyes (obviously her son) because she ran away when she was pregnant. sorry if this is too long :( but i wanted to make it as understandable as possible :) i love your writing it's fantastic. take care of yourself.

When you first married Aemond, you had just thought he was an overprotective husband. You didn't mind, you thought it was endearing how devoted he was to you.

Soon as the months went by, you noticed your freedoms being taken. You could no longer go to the gardens alone, or the library. It came to the point where you couldn't even see Helaena without permission.

You knew you had to get out.

When Aemond was called for a political meeting in Oldtown, you knew it was your time to strike.

Late at night, after he had been gone for hours, halfway to Oldtown you assumed. You opened the windows to your room. Looking down at the ground below.

You swallowed hard, and began climbing down the trellis. Your feet hit the ground, you were nearly free.

You pulled your hood over your head, and made your way out of the Keep, through King's Landing, and onto a boat bound for Pentos.

Aemond received a letter from a raven the next morning. His wife was nowhere to be found. He immediately made his way back to the Keep.

He practically turned the city on its head looking for her. Thousands of people were questioned, and yet no one had an answer for him.

Soon news of an actress that had just given birth to a strange child floated across the sea.

Aemond was never one for gossip, but when he heard the child had silver hair and violet eyes, he immediately boarded a boat.

Tearing through Pentos he had finally found you. Living in a caravan with carnies, actors and fortune tellers.

He was pissed, but he melted as soon as he saw the baby. Aemond dropped to his knees before you.

"Please my love. Come back to me."

Aegon was a difficult husband, he tried to care but it was hard for him. He was always spending nights in brothels and other women's beds.

He never changed his lifestyle after marriage. But you were expected to be a doting wife.

He had eyes on you at all times, sure you had everything you could ever want. Except a door. He kept you in his chambers at all hours of the day, guards placed in front of the door.

He would take you out when he wanted to flaunt you, but then put you back in your cage when he was done.

You had come up with a plan to gain your freedom. Subtly asking for different herbs throughout the week.

You slowly made a tea that would put someone to sleep. You knocked on the door, and the guard opened it. He looked at you curiously.

"The maid brought two cups of tea but Aegon is not here. Would you want the extra cup?"

The guard kindly accepted. Minutes later you heard the clatter of armor in the hall.

Wrapped in a cloak you stepped into the hallway. You carefully made your way out of the castle, and fled north.

You found a home in Winterfell as a maid. It wasn't as luxurious as the Red Keep. But you could breath.

Nearly a year later, you bore a son. Silver hair and purple eyes, just like his father.

The other servants at Winterfell whispered rumors and they circled their way back to King's Landing.

The queen had gone missing a year before, and now a maid has given birth to a child that resembles a Targaryen.

Aegon sent nearly a whole army to retrieve this maid with the odd child. The lords of Winterfell handed you over easily, not wanting conflict.

You were soon brought to the steps of the Iron Throne, clutching your son to your chest.

"Who are you to keep me from my heir?"

Daemon was always possesive, even before marriage. He was always by your side. You didn't mind, you loved the attention the handsome man gave you.

But now, months into the marriage, it was tiring. You wanted time to yourself, to walk around Dragonstone without Daemon or his guards.

You had always heard of the three feral dragons that lived near the castle. All three were mean, vicious beasts.

But maybe they could be your escape.

One night, you had managed to sneak out of your and Daemon's bed. You pattered quietly through the halls, careful to not be seen.

Making your way to the forest behind the castle. You were on edge, the dragons could be anywhere in this great wood.

Luckily for you, as you traversed through the trees, Sheepstealer spotted you. The great dragon placed itself in front of you threateningly.

It took everything within you to not scream.

The dragon studied you, and moved closer. He sniffed your belly and made a purring sound. The dragon then leaned down, in a submissive way.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you got closer the feral dragon. He grumbles when you touched him, but didn't move.

You slowly climbed on top of his back. The dragon shifted, never having had a rider.

"Take me away from here."

Sheepstealer obeyed, the dragon flew you to Dorne. You manged to find a shack in a small village, trading shelter for work.

You expected the dragon to leave you, but Sheepstealer stayed by your side. The people of the village were absolutely terrified, but the creature never ate anything but sheep. He could stay they supposed.

Daemon searched high and low for you all across Westeros and even into Essos, it did not slip his mind that he had not seen Sheepstealer stalking the woods after your disappearance.

Soon rumors of a lady with a dragon, and a Targaryen son made their way across the Sea of Dorne.

Daemon immediately knew, of course that's how you were able to mount Sheepstealer.

He made his way to Dorne, tracking down from city to village. He soon found you, sitting at the edge of a creek. Sheepstealer was curled around your body as you nursed your son.

The dragon growled as he saw Daemon approach. Your husband immediately knelt before you.

"My love, please come home to me."

[lixzey]

Letters

info: mentions of blood, car accident, foster home, and death

The Eleventh Letter

Timothée Chalamet is one of the most loved actors in the world. He had girls all over the world who love him. But there's one girl, the most special in his eyes. Not that he's biased—or maybe he is, but Y/N made him feel things no other girl ever had. Timothée had dated his fair share of women: Madonna's daughter: Lourdes, Johnny Depp's daughter: Lily-Rose, hell he even dated Kylie Jenner. But none of them compare to Y/N L/N. 

Yes, she was hurting—he couldn't deny that she was broken but Timothée hoped that she was alright and still breathing the same air as him. He wanted to help her or whatever it was she wanted. He didn't understand it, she was just another fan in the eyes of everyone else. Yet, here he was flying half across the continent to find her even if he had no clue whether she was at the address his Private Investigator found or not. It was a huge leap of faith, but he didn't mind. He needed to find her, he needed to let her know that he was listening, he needed to be there for her during her battles. But, what would happen when he finally sees her? Would she be happy?

Would he be devastated? Timothée looked at her picture again. Her beautiful smile, he could've sworn her laugh could light up the whole room. He wanted to run his fingers through her long hair—which made him feel like a creep for wanting to do that to a girl who he'll meet for the very first time. He wondered what it would feel like to have her in his arms. Y/N looked delicate like a flower—and if he'd wrap her in his arms, she would break. But deep down, Timothée knew that wasn't the case. Y/N was strong and brave, like a soldier going into war. Though, he still wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright and soon daylight will come. 

Timothée closed his wallet and put it back in his pocket. He then reached for the eight unopened letters in his carry on backpack. He took the eleventh letter from the stack, and put the rest back. Timothée gently ripped open the envelope, it was dated August 5th, 2023. 

Dear Timothée, 

Can you keep a secret?

I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you everything so badly, I want you to understand who I am, who I was, and who I'm going to be. 

Well, here it goes. I hope you don't 'betray' me. Who am I kidding? Anyways….

I was ten. I was ten fucking years old when life decided to fuck me up. My parents died in a car accident. I was in that accident, unfortunately, I survived. My mother used her body as a shield to protect me. I was crying loud because I was scared—what kid wouldn't be scared? My mother was bleeding, my father was unconscious, and still my mother was whispering softly in my ear that everything was going to be okay. Everything else was a blur, that's all that I remembered. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital—alone and confused. 

I always ask myself, “Why did it have to be me?” I used to be this happy kid, with a happy family. And now? I'm this broken girl who doesn't know what else to do with her life. 

You might as now call me The Girl Who Lived. Yeah, yeah, I know I quoted Harry Potter.

My parents couldn't have any children. My mother had been told that it was nearly impossible for her to bear a child, but then after years of trying, I was born. 

I was a miracle, their little miracle. I was almost named Miracle, you know. My parents said I brought light into their lives. I made everything in their lives brighter and full of meaning. I was the gift they waited so long for. 

My life was full of love and happiness. I grew up seeing my parents be in love. I always wanted to fall in love like how my parents did, as a kid I thought of their love story as something that came out of a fairytale book. It's kinda cliché, but I loved it. They started out in college as pen pals, it was random really, because my father wasn't supposed to get my mother's letters because they were for someone else, who had the same name as my father. They exchanged letters without my mother knowing that the one who's replying to her letters wasn't the one she really intended. But they fell in love. Yeah, my mom did get mad at my dad for lying, but dad was persistent. He apologized every day for that until they graduated college. After college, they met again at a café where mom worked. Sparks flew, and after two years they got married. After six years, they had me. Ten years later, they died. 

I wish I had died in that accident too. I wouldn't have spent the past eleven years in complete misery. Two days after my parents' funeral, I was sent to a foster home, until my aunt from my father's side could pick me up.

The day my aunt picked me up, my life became hell.

I can't write anymore Tim, fuck. I'm sorry, I just can't write anymore—tears are clouding my vision. I'll tell you more in my next letter, I promise. 

All my love, 

Y/N, The Girl Who Should've Died. 

p.s: sorry for the tear stains.

Timothée stared at the tear stains at the end of the paper—he could feel her pain just by looking at how much her tears stained the paper. He let out a shaky breath, before tucking the letter back in its envelope. He then looked at the remaining seven letters, waiting to be read. Timothée wanted to just teleport to where this girl was, if she was okay or not—he really wanted to hug her tight. This girl, Y/N, went through so much at a young age. He thought about what could possibly have happened when she started to live with her aunt. He assumed that her aunt mistreated her, and he felt a surge of anger course through his veins. How could someone hurt a child who had lost her parents? He wanted to hurt them, hell he wanted to punch someone right then and there on the plane. He was fuming, he was having trouble calming down. If he didn't he'd get arrested, and that won't be good. Timothée took a deep breath and opened his wallet again. The sight of Y/N's smile calmed him down. 

“Y/N, oh Y/N. Why do you make me feel like this?” Timothée muttered, the pad of his thumb caressing the photo as if he was trying to wipe her tears away. Timothée wanted nothing more than to be there for her right now. Before Y/N's letters, he was a normal guy—a normal actor, technically—but Y/N made him travel across the country just to find her, or even get a glimpse of her. There was something, and that something was pulling him in deep—deeper than he had ever been before. 

Who would've thought that Timothée Chalamet would fall in love with a girl who wrote him letters?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @bobthe-turmpetman29

[femsolid]

The documentary showed footage of Depardieu on a trip to North Korea in 2018 to mark the secretive state’s 70th anniversary. The actor, who had travelled to Pyongyang with a TV crew and knew he was being filmed, made obscene comments to women, and about women, repeatedly sexually harassed a female translator and made sexual comments about a child at an equestrian centre whom he saw riding a horse. On Friday, the footage was described by the leftwing member of the European parliament Manon Aubry as “vile”.

So to be more precise since I've seen the footage and I speak french, big trigger warning, Depardieu is looking at a 10 years old korean girl riding a horse and explains that "women love riding horses because they rub their clitoris on it, they cum a lot, the women who ride horses are big whores". Talking about the girl he says "if the horse starts running she'll cum" and the young girl turns towards him and he laughs "yeah, that's right my little girl, keep it up, see how she's rubbing it?". He tells another korean woman (I think she's his interpretor) 'why aren't you riding? It feels good!" before looking her up and down making grunting noises. He later tells her "I want to become a horse to rub against your pussy, you'll scream "my pussy!"". Obviously the north korean people around him can't understand what he's saying and the interpretor is very uncomfortable and confused. Then he's sitting to take pictures with some people, including a korean woman, and he says "go ahead, take the picture while I touch your ass, and your little mussel that must be very hairy and already smelling like a mare." At the hospital a nurse is next to him and he makes grunting noises again. He gives his weight to the interpretor before grabbing her shoulder, she steps back but he presses on and says "that's because I don't have an erection, I weigh more with an erection". Then he's at the airport with the interpretor and he tells her in french "you're gonna go take your shower and you'll be thinking of me", she doesn't understand so he mimicks taking a shower singing and she laughs. He looks at the documentary crew and starts laughing at her and says "her little pussy" before leaving and she's left confused as to what happened. Then his interpretor tries to explain to him the architecture and tells him in french that it's all made of wood, he responds "yes, wood, like my cock" but she doesn't understand, he adds "I've got a wooden plank in my boxers right now, but..." then he looks at the documentary crew and laughs at the fact that she didn't understand again. I mean it's endless, literally any time a woman is around he talks about her genitals and what he wants to do to her using absolutely revolting language that's hard to translate in english. And the poor interpretor, she's so sweet and polite, she took the time to learn french only to be confused by a litany of misogynistic slurs and degradation by a man who tries to humiliate her on purpose.

Depardieu is currently under investigations for multiple rapes, so he wrote an open letter stating that he had never abused a woman in his life, that it would be "like kicking my mother in the stomach", yes again the "I'm not sexist I love my mom" mantra. Yet we have here several instances of sexual harassement that took place in a matter of weeks and on camera without any shame.

Yann Moix, the author of the documentary was happy with it and wanted to do another one, but in the end the documentary never came out and the footage we're seeing has been published without his consent, which made him angry. But hey, you might remember Yann Moix because he made headlines too in 2019:

Moix, the author of several prize-winning novels, added that women in their 50s were “invisible” to him. “I prefer younger women’s bodies, that’s all. End of. The body of a 25-year-old woman is extraordinary. The body of a woman of 50 is not extraordinary at all,” he said, adding that he preferred to date Asian women, particularly Koreans, Chinese and Japanese. “It’s perhaps sad and reductive for the women I go out with but the Asian type is sufficiently rich, large and infinite for me not to be ashamed.”

So, a man who has a fetish on asian girls, probably a user of prostitution, went to an asian dictatorship with a fellow rapist where they sexually harassed women and girls. I also remember Yann Moix saying on TV that Michael Jackson could not possibly have raped a kid because he was a kid himself (in his head or something).

Back to Depardieu:

The documentary also interviewed the actress Charlotte Arnould, who went to the police five years ago, accusing Depardieu of rape and sexual assault on two occasions at his home in Paris in 2018, when she was 22 and Depardieu, a friend of her father, was 70. Depardieu was placed under formal investigation for alleged rape and sexual assault in the case in December 2020. Depardieu’s lawyers have denied all allegations against him. Arnould told the documentary that she had been anorexic at the time of the alleged attack and it had been “absolute horror”. In Thursday’s documentary, the actress Sarah Brooks, who appeared in a TV series with Depardieu in 2015, alleged that one day, while the actors were standing for a photo, he had repeatedly forced his hand into her shorts, despite her repeatedly pushing him off. When she protested to those TV crew around her that Depardieu had put his hands in her shorts, she claims the star replied: “I thought you wanted to succeed in cinema,” and everyone laughed.

And let's remind ourselves that Depardieu admitted to raping girls during his youth. Yes he literally said so to a TIME reporter in 1978 "I had plenty of rapes, too many to count." Asked if he had participated in rapes, Depardieu said yes. "But it was absolutely normal in those circumstances," he added. Depardieu later denied making the statements and threatened a libel suit against TIME and any news organization that reprinted them. "It is perhaps accurate to say that I had sexual experiences at an early age," the actor said in a statement. "But rape -- never. I respect women too much." The statements were on tape so he definitely said that and that's why his threats were ignored. And in any case, he said the same thing to french men's magazine Lui: he said he participated in gang rapes: "we raped a lot of girls with my buddies, but I would always go last because I was the youngest. The girl would say "go on, let's end this I can't take this any longer."" This has all been known since the 70s. While in the USA they tried to boycott him after that, nothing happened in France. He was born in 1948 so he's been raping women and girls for around 60 years and is only now being investigated for a couple of them.

[jessybarnes]

Insatiable

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader 

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: SMUT, fluff, slight angst...like you'll have to squint to see it, oral fixation, oral sex, squirting, multiple orgasms, scratching, spanking, slight dom Chris, unprotected sex, face riding, language, nipple play, choking, hair pulling, and I believe that's it. 

Word Count: 2,136

Beta: T. Thompson 

Title Card: Yours Truly 

Written for: One of my besties. She saw a TikTok of Chris wiping his beard with his hand and her reaction was "Imagine him doing that after going down on you." And thus led to me writing this filthy one shot. Enjoy my fellow sinners. ;)

A/N: I did have a title card on this, but it's too explicit for tumblr's guidelines. If you would still like to see it let me know and I'll send it to you a different way. My apologies that I can't post it here.

"Thank god this day's almost over," you mumbled to yourself, kicking the door shut behind you.

It had definitely been one hell of a day. You slept through your alarm, traffic made you even later to work, you spilled your morning coffee all over your new jacket, and to top it all off you dropped your phone into a puddle. Yeah, today could fuck right the hell off. 

You tossed your car keys into the bowl on the table by the door and kicked your heels off. All you wanted to do was take a long hot bath and cuddle with your boyfriend.

It felt too good to be true whenever you remembered you were in a romantic relationship with a famous actor, but here you were, living the dream.

Chris Evans bumped into you on the sidewalk, catching you before you hit the ground, nearly two years ago. It was like one of those sappy rom coms. Guy runs into the girl, the guy catches the girl as she literally falls for him, the girl gives him her number, and they live happily ever after.

You still couldn't believe Chris fucking Evans was interested in you, but you thanked fate that he continued to be the one you woke up to every morning. 

"Honey? Is that you?"

His smooth Boston accent echoed through the house bringing you back to reality.

"Yeah, baby, it's me."

You draped your jacket over the back of the couch and headed up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

"Come here. I wanna show you so-." Chris stopped mid-sentence, a letter opener hanging loosely from his lips.

You stood in the doorway and raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What? Is there something on my face?"

He blinked slowly, dragging his eyes from your curled hair to your red button-up blouse, the form-fitting pencil skirt hugging your hips, and finally down to your bare feet.

"Fuck, I swear I'm the luckiest man in the goddamn universe."

He climbed off the bed and stalked toward you, a primal hunger in his stormy blue eyes. You didn't have a chance to respond, he was on you in seconds.

Chris slammed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss, one of his large hands making its way up the back of your neck and into your hair.

"Baby," your hands rested against his chest, "what's gotten into you?"

He smirked against your lips. "Nothin', sweetheart. However, there's gonna be something in you here in a minute." He gave you a sinful wink.

"Christopher!" You shook your head and swatted his shoulder playfully.

He chuckled, trailing kisses along your neck while attempting to unbutton your shirt. "Can't blame me when you look like this…so fuckin' pretty, baby. Just wanna taste you."

Chris growled impatiently, "goddamn buttons…fuck it!" He ripped the thin fabric easily, scattering them in all different directions.

"Ah! Hey! That was my favorite shirt, ya know." You tried to sound angry, but the way he continued to kiss and lick at your pulse point made your voice breathy.

"I'll buy you another one. Shit, I'll buy you two hundred if you'll let me fuck your sweet pussy with my mouth." 

You let out a sinful moan, hands fisting in his short blonde hair as he kissed down your chest. "Oh, god…yes, fuck yes, please whatever you wanna do to me…'m yours."

Chris unzipped your skirt with his teeth, and you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. He pulled it down your legs and helped you step out of it, leaving you in just your white lace bra and panty set. It was one of his favorites and you didn't miss the low groan he made.

His eyes drank you in, a needy whimper falling from your lips. "Please touch me…"

Chris wet his lips, sliding his calloused hands up your thighs to your ass. "Oh, princess, I'm gonna do way more than touch you."

He pushed your legs apart, licking and sucking love bites into your inner thighs.

"Fuck, oh my god, baby please… please I-I need more… Chris, I need more!"

He gave a warning slap to your ass, his mouth continuing its assault just shy of where you wanted him the most. "I'll decide what you need, Y/N." 

Your hand gripped the door frame and you bit your lip as he pushed your panties to the side.

"Jesus, sugar…fuckin' soaking wet. Can't wait to have you come apart over and over again just from my mouth. Wanna hear you make those pretty sounds. Love the way you scream my name, baby."

You swore his words alone could make you come. It was no secret that Chris loved going down on you, and he was damn good at it too.

"Please…"

He finally gave in, hooked your right leg over his shoulder, and held you still as he delved his tongue between your folds.

"Oh-my-fu-! Chris!"

He moaned, his tongue moving back and forth between your clit to your hole expertly. You tried to roll your hips but his grip on you held you right where he wanted you. Chris dipped his tongue inside you, your legs beginning to shake as he devoured you.

"Oh, fuck….fuck-fuck-fuck! Chris! Feels so good! So fuckin' good…please don't stop!"

He slapped your ass again, moving back to wrap his lips around your clit.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit I'm gonna cum...gonna-cum-oh-my-god!"

Chris locked eyes with you, his tongue flicking your sensitive bud, and the moment he took it between his teeth you lost it. The coil of arousal inside you snapped like a rubber band. He groaned, taking everything you gave him until it got to be too much and you pushed him away.

"Mmm, can never get enough of you, honey. Taste so fuckin delicious." 

Chris stood up and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently on the duvet. "Gonna need you to do that again for me, Y/N. M'still not satisfied."

You looked up at him with wide eyes, "Baby, I… I don't think I can do that again. M'too sensitive."

He got down on his knees and hooked his arms under your thighs pulling you to the edge of the bed. "Oh, I bet you can, doll. Bet you can give me at least three more."

"Three?! Chris, I don't think th-holyfuckingshit!"

He brought his head back between your legs and shoved his tongue inside of you while his hands pinned your hips to the bed.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! OH, FUCK! Chris! Chris, baby, please… please I- oh-my-god yes, right there!"

The combination of his thumb on your clit, his tongue reaching places inside you that you didn't know existed, and his beard hair rubbing against your skin made your vision go white. Your back arched off the bed, the sheets tangling between your fingers as you felt your release gush onto the bed. 

Chris stood and lay next to you, pulling you on top of him as he watched you gasp for breath. "That was the hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen you do, Y/N. Fuck, I almost came in my pants like a teenage boy."

He lifted his hips, his jean-covered cock brushing your clit making you shiver. "Feel that? Feel how fuckin' hard my cock is, princess? Just wanna fuck you into this mattress and fill you full of my cum."

"Please," you whimpered, "do it, baby. Want you to fuck me so bad."

He kissed you sweetly, the taste of you still on his lips. "Oh, I plan to, sweetheart. I'm gonna fuck you on every piece of furniture in this house, but first," he tapped your left leg, "I want you to sit on my face."

Your moan put every porn star to shame, as you positioned yourself over his head. "Chris, are you sure about this? I mean, how're you gonna breathe?"

He chuckled, "listen, sugar, if I die from having the best thing I've ever tasted smothering my face then oh well. I'll die happy."

Chris didn't waste another second, any rational argument you had disappeared as he pulled you down against his open mouth.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ! Baby, it's too much! Fuck, I can't...I, oh, shit… shit, fuck, oh, GOD!" 

Chris lifted you off him, giving you a brief moment to breathe. "Princess, now that I know you can squirt, I'm hooked. So, you're gonna be a good girl and do it again. Understand?"

You let out a strangled cry as he resumed his assault on your soaked pussy.

"Ch-Chris! Baby, I-..."

Your hands fisted in your hair as your legs shook violently, his hands gripping your ass like a lifeline. The hot spark of arousal coursed through you, straight to your core like a lightning bolt. Chris dipped his tongue into your soaked hole, spreading your wetness to your clit before doing it all over again.

"Oh, baby, just like that...fuck please… please, don't stop! Shit, right there! Oh, fuck right there, oh-my-god- I'm- Chris I'm cumming…Oh my g-CHRIS!"

If he wasn't holding you up you would have collapsed. The force of your third orgasm coated Chris’s face with your release. 

Once you were able to gather your bearings again, Chris had already stripped the rest of his clothes off and was kissing you like he needed you to survive. He cradled you in his arms and hovered over you, smiling at your blissed-out state.

"You alright there, honey?"

You nodded, licking your lips and staring up at the smug look on his face.

"Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I just made you squirt twice with my mouth alone. Pretty impressive, right?"

You giggled and booped his nose. "Very impressive, indeed. Sometimes I think they really did give you that super soldier serum."

He laughed and kissed your lips. "Mmm, I dunno...maybe they did. I think," he pressed his thick cock against your entrance, "we should find out."

You bit your lip. "Show me what you got, Cap." 

Chris buried himself inside you in one smooth motion, both of you moaning loudly. "Christ, sugar, you hear how fuckin' wet you are? Can feel you squeezin' me…fuck. I know you got one more baby. Gimme one more. Wanna feel you soak my cock."

Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pulled out and slammed back in, the feeling of your velvet walls spurring him on. Chris set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and deep, and when the blunt head of his cock hit your spot you screamed.

"Chris! Chris, oh my god! Fuckkk! Harder baby! Don't stop!"

His big hands pulled the white lace of your bra down exposing your tits. He wrapped his lips around one nipple, his fingers rolling the other one deliciously.

"Fuckin' perfect, Y/N…so fuckin' beautiful. Seein' you writhe under me, knowin' I make you feel this good, god baby you're a dream. I know you're close, love. The way your pussy's gripping me like a vice, mmm it's so fuckin' good. C'mon, baby. Come for me, come all over my cock, Y/N." 

His thrusts were relentless, and the moment his right hand wrapped around your throat you dug your nails into his back.

"That's it, fuck, yeah, that's it. Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum...gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Let go, pretty girl. Fuck! Gonna cu-AH!"

Chris came hard, thick ropes of cum coating your walls, just as you felt yourself come all over him, yourself, and the bedsheets. You couldn't move if you tried, your limbs felt like jelly and your breaths came in pants.

Chris trailed a string of open-mouthed kisses from your chest, along your neck, and finally planted a chaste one on your lips. "Baby, you're incredible. Fuck, that was amazing…"

He slowly pulled out of you and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor. "I'll be gentle, honey."

He was mindful of how sensitive you were as he slowly cleaned you up. Once he was finished, he scooped you up and carried you to the living room. He sat down on the couch and held you close to his chest, stroking your hair.

"Mmm, love you, Chris."

He tilted your head back and kissed you sweetly. "I love you too, honey."

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck and sighed happily. "M'gonna sleep right here, kay?"

He laughed and ran his fingertips down your back lightly. "Alright, baby. I'm waking you up in an hour though."

"Why?" You groaned.

Chris rested his hand on your ass and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Well, I figured we'd start on the couch, then move to the dining room table, and end the night with you on the kitchen counter."

You rolled your eyes, pulling back to give him an incredulous look.

You're insatiable.

[savethegrishaverse]

Save the Grishaverse Campaign Overview

Hello! By now you have probably seen our posts floating around - but what exactly is going on? What's the 'Save Shadow and Bone' campaign, and how can I help?

Well ask no more - here is the master post to answer those questions!

Firstly, let's talk about the what. If you didn't know, the Netflix original Shadow and Bone was announced to have been cancelled after two seasons, followed by another announcement that the proposed Six of Crows Spinoff would be scrapped as well. The thing is, Netflix had paid for the scripts to be drafted for the SoC Spinoff already! What's more, it seems mighty suspicious that the showrunner Eric Heisserer was a big part of the recent WGA Strike coordination for Netflix, and all the writers were very vocal about their support of the WGA strike, and only after the strike was over did Netflix announce the cancellation of the Grishaverse related show and spinoff.

Now to be clear, we are not saying that there is any sort of big conspiracy afoot, but boy does it feel like it. The Grishaverse has a huge fan-base, the cast was extremely passionate about continuing their work, and yet the show was cancelled without warning. Allegedly, some of the actors found out through Leigh Bardugo's announcement post - and not from Netflix directly! So, fans got together and decided that no, actually, we weren't going to stand for that.

Thus, the Save Shadow and Bone' campaign was born. But what are we doing exactly? Well, let's discuss!

Firstly, we've been organizing Twitter parties to keep the discussion of the Grishaverse trending! Already we've been trending a majority of the days we've been at it, and this is only the tip of the iceberg. We have so many more fun days planned, so keep an eye out!

We also have a petition! As of writing this, it's exceeded 170,000 signatures and we've been told by the Change.org devs that if it hits 200,000 it will be featured on the home page of the website! It's been growing incredibly fast - keep spreading it around!

We've also been organizing Watch Parties to keep the show trending on Netflix's end, as this is what we've confirmed they'll be paying attention to. These 'watch parties' are encouraged to be fun events, whether they become irl parties for friends or online liveblogging/livetweeting events. The goal of this is to keep the show relevant to Netflix's audiences!

But that's not all - We have a billboard campaign running on kickstarter to put up physical tangible proof that we want our show back - and one of the proposed locations would be right in Netflix's hometown! However the Grishaverse has fans from all over the world, and if you're curious about the billboard campaign and if it will reach your area consider joining our discord for more information.

We also have a letters to Netflix campaign running with hundreds of letters already prepared to mail directly to Netflix's offices! We even have a tutorial on origami crows provided so we can flood the offices with paper crows! Again, for more information on how to get involved and where exactly to address these letters to, consider joining our discord for concise information.

We've been reaching out to news outlets and have made contacts with several magazines already, and the world is watching. This is not just about our favorite show being canceled anymore - the way intellectual properties have been treated by these mega corporations has gotten wildly out of hand, and we want to show that audiences are tired of this cutthroat attitude to media onscreen.

Here is the link to our linktree for all of our social medias, the discord we have that is open to join, and access to our fanmade newscast Brekkin' News for updates on what's going on!

[oskea93]

✦ It Had to be You: One ✦

John "Bucky" Egan x OC Gale "Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mentions of sex, depression, rage anger.

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

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Black had become a staple in my wardrobe.

I used to despise the dark color – opting for more cheerful tones or floral patterns. I didn’t want to walk around looking like a depressive cloud – someone in constant mourning. I didn’t even own a black dress until I got the news – my mother making the journey to the store to buy one. I couldn’t bear to leave the house – not wanting the sympathetic glances of those in town that had learned the news. I can’t even begin to tell you how many letters I had received, those that knew Gale and even from those that didn’t. Each letter praised his heroic actions – thanking him in black ink for his level of service and dedication to the United States. Even received one from President Truman and the men of Washington D.C.

I used to look at women who had received the devastating news with such sorrow and sadness. Wonder how they would survive without their men - their source of comfort and love. I was certain that it would be very difficult to do so – have to learn to fend for yourself and go on without the man you loved. I didn’t realize that I would be in the same boat years later. I was a simple housewife – barely of age when we married. Gale and I were just two kids – two kids that were madly and deeply in love with each other. I had grown up more privileged than Gale or those that we knew. I didn’t know how to clean a house properly or cook a hearty meal that would fill the bellies of my husband and future children. I’ve always had someone do those things for me – my mother more focused on raising a proper lady. If you needed to know which fork went where, I was the girl to ask, but I couldn’t tell you anything domestic. I wanted to be able to learn all those things while he was away – making sure that when he returned home for good, I would be able to care for him like a wife should.

I had met Gale at a dance the local hall was putting on – a sendoff to some of the troops that lived in the area. He had just enlisted– saying that he was a week away from going to boot camp. He was cool as a cucumber – no evidence of fear etched on his beautiful face. He spoke of wanting to fight the good fight – getting up in the air and showing Germany the trouble they were in for. He was a born fighter – a genius when it came to life. We spent most of the night as close as two people could be while sitting upright- both speaking of our life and our dreams. Not to sound cliché but I was smitten as soon as I saw him. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled – his wool trousers fitting his frame nicely. His smile could light up a room – that deep voice causing my insides to quiver with a need that only he could give me.

I longed for him during those weeks he was away – smiling as I read his letters that would come bi-weekly. I could hear his voice as I read the words on paper – the excitement of finally flying and the annoyance he felt towards his roommate. The one true constant that popped up on each letter was the mention of his co-captain. His name was John Egan – Bucky – the nickname he had been given. Gale spoke highly of the man – praising him and saying that he couldn’t wait for us to meet. Gale was soft spoken – a bit reserved – he wasn’t into sports or gambling. He liked to sit outside the house and just listen to the sounds of nature. John Egan was the opposite that Gale needed in his life. He helped Gale open up and Gale helped John stay out of trouble...

Gale finally returned to me after weeks away – our reunion being one spent giving ourselves to one another. We were both virgins but the time away from one another ignited a feeling in both of us that we couldn’t suppress. He asked me to marry him a month after his return – wanting to get married sooner rather than later seeing as the war was ramping up. John Egan stood by Gale’s side as we exchanged vowels – his blue eyes shining bright as he watched us become husband and wife. He was the life of the party at our reception – singing along with the band as those around us danced to the music. I could see why Gale adored him so, but I was still weary.

That feeling came to a head when John convinced Gale that it was time for him to head over to England and join the ranks. He wrote to him about the fun he was having and all the missions they were accomplishing. He made it sound like a thrill ride – something that didn’t involve the chance of dying at any moment. Gale and I spent our last night together – wrapped up in each other – exploring and branding kisses into skin – almost as if we were creating a permanent road map to remember one another. It was the most sensual night we’ve had – that we would ever have.

The movie reel played on repeat in my head as I could still feel his lips on mine as he kissed me goodbye. Tears in both of our eyes as the sound of the car’s engine faded into the distance.

“I’m coming back to you – hell or high water – I will be back.”

He kept waving until his car was out of sight – my knees buckling – my body falling into grass below. A part of my heart left that Spring Day…  

I received his first official letter a couple weeks later – screaming out in joy as I read his chicken scratch penmanship. He spoke of the area they were located – how it felt flying in – the fresh air that surrounded the base. He gushed about the new friends he had made –describing them as if he had known them for years. The most important was how much he missed and loved me – repeating the same words as above – hell or high water.

No letter from Gale would be complete without a mention of John Egan. Gale wrote of how John had taken him under his wing, but also being John’s protector. He wrote of how he’s stopped him from getting into several scuffles with the British soldiers or the townspeople. His writings detailing how much they truly cared for one another – they were like brothers.

As time progressed, his writings became darker – tragic even. He detailed his first mission in graphic detail – expressing his feelings and the slight betrayal that he felt towards Egan. He watched men he had befriended either die in the air in a fiery explosion or pass as they laid on the stretcher in the makeshift hospital on the base. He never wrote of his fear that I’m sure he had – choosing to stay strong and do everything he could for his squadron. He was the main pilot – he had the lives of nine other men to think about – he wanted them to be able to return home safely even if that meant he was the sacrificial lamb...

The last letter that would arrive on time came through the mail on October 10th, 1943. It was shorter than normal, Gale explaining that he was moments away from an important mission. He must’ve written “I love you” about a dozen times before signing off – xo following his name. I had learned about a week later that his plane had went down somewhere outside of Germany. The news articles praised their efforts – telling of how they put a damper into the German’s artillery. That was all well and good, but my husband was missing – the base having no record of his whereabouts or if he was still alive.

Months passed before a battered letter was placed inside the mail slot. The enveloped looked as if it had gone through hell, but Gale’s handwriting could be seen through the grime. He had been placed in a camp for captured soldiers. Many of the men that he had met at the base were there as well. He hadn’t been injured – keeping quiet and under the radar of the German soldiers. I fell to the floor after reading that letter – my heart shattering at the thoughts of what might happen. Tears fell on the paper as I replied – simply begging him to come back to me…

“Sweetheart?” I looked up from the mattress as my mother entered the room. “It’s nearing one in the afternoon, darling.” She threw open the curtains – the bright sunlight beaming into the once darkened room. “You need to get yourself together and get dressed.”

My mother had never seen me in such a state – not even recognizing the person I had become. Long gone was the smile and laughter – replaced by tears and screams of anger. I was angry at everyone – my parents, my friends, God.

Oh, I was especially mad at God.

Countless times I would ask why Gale – why was it his turn to be taken? Was he needed for greater things? Why wasn’t I granted more time with him? Just why?

Growing up in the church, it was frowned upon to ask why for anything, more so for why God chose those that he did.  You never asked why – you just learned to accept the outcome. I was long past that – I wanted an answer – I demanded a Goddamn answer.

Sighing, I slowly moved to a sitting position as she laid the black dress and heels next to me. My eyes boring holes into the clothing – hoping that with another energy they would magically combust into flames, burning me alive with them. “I’ll do your hair when you get out of the bath.”

Our eyes connected, “I’m not taking a bath.”

Mother let out an exhausted sigh as her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. I watched as she walked to the window, her upper body jerking slightly as she wiped away the tears that started to fall. She never liked anyone to see her cry.

I started to speak, stopping before the first syllable could come out. I wanted to tell her not to cry but I didn’t have that right. She loved Gale too – she had been smitten by him from the get-go. We all held out hope that he would return to us – just not in a flag draped pine box.

A soft knock on the bedroom door caught both of our attention as my dad entered the room. His once bright face was downcast as he took in my appearance. “The car will be here soon, darling.” His voice soft as he exchanged glances with my mother.

The reality that I was an hour away from burying my only love hadn’t set in yet – just fog – fog that felt like it would never lift to clear skies. I fisted the black material, stepping over the kitten heels as I trudged towards the bathroom. The figure in the mirror was a stranger – someone who’s been through more things than a human is supposed to. Dark circles and pale skin stared back at me – my hair in a tangled mess – not even a comb could get through at this point. Gaunt would be the best word to describe this version of Carolina. I hadn’t bathed in several days – to numb to even remove myself from the bed at times. I barely made it to the bathroom to relieve myself, almost just wanting to go on myself so I wouldn’t have to get up.

Looking around, I noticed everything laid out by my mother. Toothbrush, toothpaste, the expensive makeup that I had collected over the years sitting on the vanity. I was supposed to look put together – still grieving – but have the attributes of a Hollywood starlet.

A guttural scream roared through my body as the vanity contents crashed to the floor – the glass bottles of perfume shattering as the liquid splashed in the air. I could feel the glass stabbing into my bare feet, the blood mixing with the perfume on the floor. I didn’t even register that my father had burst into the room until his arm wrapped around my waist, my back hitting his tailored chest. I thrashed against his hold like a wild animal trapped in a cage.

“Carolina, please!” My mother bawled as she took in my state. “Please, darling calm down before you hurt yourself!”

Another voice was added to the chaos – a deeper voice than that of my father. He was dressed in a black suit – his tall figure looming over my parents. His hands replaced my father’s – his grip on my waist tight and firm. “Calm down, Lina.” His hot breath hitting my ear as the world started to spin around me. My body was running on fumes – the last of those turning into smoke as my brain finally had enough, shutting down before any more damage could be done.

[blurredcolour]

I Wish You Love | Part Three

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

The letter you never intended to post has a slew of consequences and life will never be the same for anyone – you and Captain Nixon most of all.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Minor Reader Injury, Blood, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5211

--------------------------

Lieutenant Nixon’s reply arrived in early October. The weeks since the family’s return to Lydiard had been bleak. The change from summer to autumn typically brought with it a renewed sense of energy, vigor, and anticipation for the festivities to come at the end of the year. All you seemed to feel was the life draining out of the world around you, underwritten by a growing sense of dread that culminated in the arrival of the morning post that day.

You lost your breakfast in the bathroom, hands shaking as they wiped your mouth clean, unable to face the contents of the envelope. Miss Isobel, for her part, was basking in her re-insertion into her social circle around Lydiard – gentlemen callers, vapid daughters of landed gentry. She barely noticed how unwell or vacant you looked, though catching your own reflection in her mirror as you fixed her hair reminded you to get a grip until you could take Dash for his walk.

Even once you’d reached the lake shore, the dog settling into a more relaxed pace after his initial excitement at the outset, you remained reluctant to open it. It felt as though there were a ticking time bomb lurking in your dress, awaiting one wrong move. The only problem was, you’d already made that wrong move.

“No going back now.” You muttered grimly and gingerly slid the letter from its envelope.

The pages crinkled in your hand as your gripped them fiercely, trying with all your might to swallow past the lump in your throat. You weren’t entirely sure which part was worse, reading him pledge his undying devotion to another woman or the fact that he would not give up on her unless she were to outright refuse him. Because despite the utter mess you had made of it, there was no possible way you could ever find it in yourself to do that.

And so, like the complete coward you had become, you took a page from Miss Isobel’s book and simply did not reply. As you should have done all those months ago in May. It was her intention to leave his correspondence unanswered, you were just, finally – after a long and twisted path – honouring her wishes. Never mind that it turned all food to sawdust in your mouth and robbed you of sleep, changing you into some sleep-walking wraith.

Letters continued to arrive from him, every three weeks or so, and were promptly stored away in the bottom of your suitcase with the rest. Sweet Izzy was as good as dead. There was only the real article left and she was just as much a handful as she’d ever been, carrying-on with some doctor at the prison camp now. The air turned cold, sparkling frost replaced the morning dew on the lawn. You barely noticed it as you allowed Dash to drag you along behind him on his daily sojourns.

Your father was begging you to come home on your day off before Christmas, maybe it would do you good to get out of Lydiard for a while – out of your grief-stricken stupor and back into the land of the living. Returning Dash to his favourite cushion in the sitting room one morning, you quickly grabbed a tray to collect one of the cut crystal glasses that had surely been left in there by a house guest the night before. You were crossing through the front hall towards the back stairs when you heard Mr. Atkinson open the front door.

“Good day, Captain Nixon.” His tone was as professional as ever, but you still managed to note the hint of surprise as you whirled around to see the very man whose letters you had been avoiding standing there in his dress uniform.

Two gold bars now adorned his garrison cap. So that was why Mr. Atkinson had called him Captain. Struggling to inhale a full breath, you realized much too late that you had lost sensation in your fingertips, the sound of the tray and its fragile cargo impacting the ground overtaking whatever Captain Nixon had said in reply to Mr. Atkinson’s greeting.

Cursing under your breath, you crouched quickly to snatch up the tray, frantically trying to pluck the shards of broken crystal from the floor with your bare fingers as your heart slammed against your rib cage like a bird trying to escape its confines. A particularly large, jagged edge caught the flesh of your palm, making you hiss as blood welled scarlet against your skin.

“Whoa, easy there.” Captain Nixon’s voice was a lot closer than you expected, making you jolt back, startled. “Let me see that.” He coaxed gently as he grasped your wrist in one hand, producing a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket with the other. “You really shouldn’t be picking up broken glass with your bare hands, you know.” He chided with a soft grin, expertly wrapping your hand with the soft, expensive cotton.

You watched silently, wondering how many times he’d performed similar acts on his fellow soldiers in the heat of battle. You’d never realized quite how good his aftershave smelled, how the hints of vanilla and allspice wrapped around you before.

“There, all better.” His voice shattered through your retreat inward, and you looked to him quickly, barely meeting his warm eyes, the same shade as his favourite whiskey, before you had to look away lest your expression betray your inner turmoil.

“Thank you, Captain.” You murmured softly and shuffled backward again before pushing to your feet.

“Almost makes me sorry I got promoted.” He smirked and your brow wrinkled in bewilderment as he rose to his feet. “Miss being called ‘leftenant.’” He shrugged and you gulped as tears stung your eyes with a sudden viciousness.

“If you’ll follow me to the sitting room, we’ll find Miss Isobel, sir.” Mr. Atkinson stepped forward, shooting you a reproachful look.

You tensed rigidly with a quick nod. One of the footmen had arrived with a broom and dustpan to continue cleaning up your mess and you surrendered your tray filled with broken parts, wondering if they could all see the shattered pieces of your heart laying there upon it too. Dashing up the stairs towards Miss Isobel’s room, you endeavoured to regulate your breathing, not needing to dissolve into hysterics now. There was no escape. Your Waterloo had come, it seemed, and you may as well face up to the mess you created with your own two hands and a pen.

Knocking on the door, you entered only once Miss Isobel’s voice called out to you, finding her lounging on her bed with the newest edition of her favourite magazine.

“Miss Isobel, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.” You clenched your fists at your sides, digging your nails into the heels of your palms, the ersatz bandage on your right hand driving home the purpose and necessity of what was about to be the most awkward conversation of your entire life.

She let the magazine drop to the duvet dramatically with an annoyed, expectant look upon her face as you clicked the door shut behind you.

“Captain Lewis Nixon is downstairs, Miss–”

“What?” She interrupted sharply and you took a shaky breath, seizing the last threads of your composure in a death grip.

“He’s come because…well I’m afraid he believes…” You struggled to sum up the litany of your offences tidily.

“Oh, do get on with it.” She huffed, tossing the periodical aside and sitting up, patting at her hair vainly to check the style was still in place.

“Captain Nixon is under the impression that you have been writing to him since May, Miss.” You forced the words out in a rush, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as she stood slowly.

“Whyever would he think that? He been drinking too much again?” She laughed snidely, smoothing her skirt.

Clenching your jaw, you shook your head firmly. “No. Because I’ve been writing to him in your name.” Your voice trembled but you managed to keep it at an audible volume, standing completely still as she stalked over to you with a cold rage in her eyes.

“Why you sneaky little bitch.” She sneered before her palm lashed out to smack across your left cheek with a harsh ‘crack.’

Blinking rapidly as your eyes immediately began to water, in retrospect you wished you had given her a piece of your mind, but in reality, all that tumbled out of your mouth was a series of apologies. “I am so very sorry, Miss, I just wanted him to feel supported while he fought overseas. I know it wasn’t my place and I swear I meant nothing by it I–”

“You are dismissed.” She cut you off with words you dreaded and yet expected all at once. “You filthy fortune hunter. Did you really think he’d fall for such stupid tricks?! What a foolish girl you were all along, just like I told Papa. He’s married you know?” The cruel glee that lit up her eyes before she began to laugh like a jackal made your blood curdle, the word ricocheting through your brain.

…married….Married…MARRIED…

“Now remove yourself from this house at once, I never want to see your face again. I will be sure to inform Atkinson and Papa just what you’ve done, you horrid girl.” She reached behind you to wrench to door open and pointed, sending you fleeing from the room towards the back stairs with that singular, devastating word still echoing in your mind as your vision began to blur.

Bursting into your room, your former room, you collected your limited number of possessions and roughly shoved them into your suitcase and duffel bag. Stripping out of your serving dress for most likely the last time you would ever wear such a garment, for you were surely leaving without a reference, you pulled on a wool dress and coat before taking your things down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. Ignoring Mrs. Brigham’s call from the kitchen you dashed out to the garage to fetch your bicycle, strapping your luggage to the back fender and taking off down the side drive as fast as your legs could peddle.

Eventually you had to slow down, legs aching, lungs burning, allowing yourself to glide along the asphalt of the road into Swindon as you finally permitted the tears that had been brimming at your waterline to slide down your cheeks. In truth you should be more upset about the loss of your job, especially as the main breadwinner in your family, but it would be easy enough to get a job at the Railway Works. It most likely would pay better and have shorter hours too – your father had just never approved of you becoming a ‘canary girl’ with skin and hair tinged yellow from hours of pouring TNT into shells for use by the military. Well, he’d have to get over that now, if he wanted to keep the flat and have food in his belly.

No, the far more distressing thing in all this was the fact that you’d allowed yourself to develop such deep-seated feelings for a married man. It was honestly no surprise that Miss…just Isobel now…had carried on with him despite that knowledge, but that was a line you would have never allowed yourself to cross knowingly. You let out a wry, watery laugh. What a pathetic line to draw amidst lying, impersonation, and god knows what other sins you had surely committed. Your bicycle wobbled to a stop as it ran out of momentum, and you slowly began to pedal once more to keep progressing towards town. The heavy load would certainly double the usual time it took to get there.

The sound of vehicle approaching from behind had you carefully steering toward the shoulder, giving them as much room to pass as possible. As the American military jeep drove slowly past, you held your breath, heart plummeting to your stomach as it too pulled off onto the shoulder, stopping a few feet in front of you. Captain Nixon jumped from the left side and began striding back towards you with a very determined look upon his face. Of course, Isobel had told him everything, she had made it clear she would, you had been naïve to hope to avoid this moment. Dismounting carefully, you turned your head to quickly wipe at your face, wincing at the tenderness in your cheek born of Isobel’s palm, before turning back to find him standing directly in front of you.

“So, it was you.” His voice was quiet, quieter than you’d ever heard him speak, lacking his usual playfulness.

“Yes.” Your voice refused to come out in anything above a whisper, so you nodded to be sure he understood your answer, gripping the handlebars so tightly the cut on your palm ached in protest.

“Was it some kind of joke, then?” He scoffed, crossing his arms defensively and your eyes widened in horror at the idea of doing something so cruel.

Captain Nixon’s eyes flicked your throbbing cheek, and you wondered if it had started to swell. “No.” You replied with a firm shake of the head.

 “Did…did you mean a word of it?” His voice was laced with a dangerously tempting hint of tenderness and you felt your lower lip tremble precariously.

Of course you had, every word of it in fact, but there was no way you could admit to such things now that you knew the full truth. Clearing your throat painfully you took a deep breath to steel your nerves.

“I see you’re not wearing your wedding ring, Captain. Were you afraid you’d lose it?” You replied to his question with one of your own, feeling every bit of pain that unfurled across his impeccable features as though it were your own.

Gritting your teeth against it, lest you give in to your weaker impulses, you steered your bicycle around him and continued on your way to town. Captain Nixon did not stop you. Did not say a word.

Regret would stalk you for weeks, your harsh, high-handed words replaying cruelly in your mind any time you read or heard about the surprise German offensive through the Ardennes.

Your hasty packing job had inevitably resulted in failure and Helen kindly took it upon herself to deliver the last few items you had missed on her day off. Word of your transgression had spread like wildfire through Lydiard House, and while she did not seem to approve of what you had done, she did have sympathy for Captain Nixon who had apparently ‘departed immediately for France’ after leaving that morning. It could not have been a full week before the Germans pushed through into Belgium and his Regiment was deployed in desperate defence.

The Battle of the Bulge was discussed endlessly at your easily acquired job at the Swindon Railway Works factory where you were immediately put on the assembly line filling shells with TNT and gingerly tapping detonators into their caps. Tap too hard and a girl could lose her limbs – it was something everyone on the floor had witnessed at least once, you were told. The exacting work was fairly sufficient to keep your mind off the fact that you had sent a man to his possible death with nothing but harsh admonishment.

If he had found you not fifteen minutes later, you may have been able to bite your tongue, to answer him truthfully. Surely, he had deserved it after the dishonesty you had perpetuated, but your pride and cheek were smarting awfully from your ill treatment at Isobel’s hand, and you had taken it out on him. For all your judgment of her as a twenty-five-year-old spoiled child, you had behaved no better when it truly mattered. You had not been very forthcoming with the details upon arriving home to your father, freshly unemployed, but he had tolerated your silence and poorly hidden tears as you made up your old twin bed in the corner of the sitting room.

You were also able to save a little money, no longer needing the neighbourhood girl to come by the flat to clean once a week as you were able to manage that outside your hours at the factory. In fact, you found yourself with too much free time, and a dramatic increase in wages, deciding to visit a used bookshop to pick up a novel to read just after New Year’s. The display in the shop window with a relatively new World Atlas caught your attention and you found yourself leaving with it as well as a well-worn copy of War and Peace so that you might finally finish it.

As your father turned on the BBC news broadcast on the wireless that evening, the pair of you sitting side-by-side on the worn sofa, you cracked open your Atlas to follow along with the locations named on the pages within. The mention of the 101st Airborne or the ‘Battered Bastards of Bastogne’ as they were now affectionately known, made you inhale sharply. You squinted at the small village on the page, a spider’s web of roads all converging on that singular dot, truly illustrating its strategic importance.

“I really don’t understand what happened up at the House, sweet pea, and you never have to tell me. But whoever that American Lieutenant is, you really ought to let him know how much you care for him.”

You looked to your father slowly, pressing your lips together before exhaling through your nose “He’s a Captain now.” You murmured softly.

“Whatever his rank, my girl, whatever transpired, tell him.” He eyed you firmly.

“But–”

He held up his hand, silencing you. “I won’t terrify you with the things I’ve seen or endured. But I swear to you there is nothing more important when the world is so intent on tearing itself apart.”

“Oh Daddy…” You sighed tearfully and he pulled you into his shoulder as you wiped at your eyes quickly. “…what if it’s too late?”

“Oh, sweet pea.” He squeezed you tightly into his side. “It might be, but at least you’ll have tried and that’s all any of us can really do.”

You nodded weepily, quieting down as Churchill came on to give an inspiring address before you stood to clean up for the night, seeing your father to bed before turning in yourself. As you lay in your bed in the corner of the room, staring at the water-stained ceiling, you turned your father’s words over and over in your mind, not getting a whole lot of rest. On your way home from work the next day, you stopped by the local store to pick up some nice paper and a new pen. With all the writing you had undertaken last year to both Captain Nixon and your brother, your stores were running low, and a fresh start felt appropriate for the task you were about to attempt.

As you father settled in to listen to the news that night, you took a seat at the small table in the kitchen, staring at the crisp, white sheets, gnawing on your lip thoughtfully.

You signed your name before tapping your pen against the tabletop thoughtfully and quickly added a postscript before you could convince yourself not to do it.

Folding it up carefully you looked up startled to see your father leaning in the doorway with a fond smile on his face. “Well done, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” You sighed softly, sealing the letter into the envelope before seeing him to bed.

Posting it on your way to work the next day, you tried to put it out of your mind. You had done your best, just as your father had encouraged, and now it was in the hands of the Royal Mail. As the weeks ticked by, you undeniably deflated a little more each time you checked the mail and found no response. Your resources to check on his welfare were limited, but according to what you had access to, Captain Nixon’s name was not on any of the grim lists of wounded, dead, or missing. Which most likely meant he was not replying to you by choice. It was no less than you deserved.

It was not until the beginning of March, the soft caress of spring chasing away winter’s chill, when you came home to find an odd grin on your father’s face. He could hardly sit still in his favourite chair, watching you intently as you reached for the pile of post on the end table. You eyed him a moment until he glanced at the letters in your hand, and you looked down to the immediately recognizable cursive, heart skittering and skipping a few beats as you traced the letters of your name written in Captain Lewis’s hand for the first time. Definitely alive.

“Think I’ll go down to the pub tonight.” Your father was halfway out the door before you looked up and you sighed deeply in response.

“Thank you, Daddy. Be home for dinner in an hour, alright?”

“An hour and a half.” He winked before making his way out.

Shucking off your jacket, you hung it on its peg near the door before sinking onto the worn sofa and used a butter knife to carefully open the envelope.

Laying the pages down onto the worn tabletop you cupped your cheeks, aching from the broad grin that had taken up residence there as you read Captain Nixon’s letter. It was quite honestly more than you could have hoped for in a reply. More than you felt you were worthy of. Like a reward for bad behaviour, but one that you had spent the past month and a half trying to deny you craved to the very marrow of your bones.

It took a lot of restraint not to pull out a sheet of paper and begin a reply immediately, but the insistent growl of your stomach reminded you that neither you nor your father had eaten dinner yet. But after. After you were both fed, you were most certainly going to stay up far too late answering his question.

--------------------------

Read Part Four

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @gretagerwigsmuse

[barbeygirl]

Kisses to cold cheeks

Richard Winters x fem!reader

Summary: Richard reminiscences of the way you met 

Warnings: Talk of readers cheeks turning red from the cold. 

Notes: This is a fictional work based on the actor portrayals in the series Band of Brothers. All respect to the real life individuals.

Words: 660

Richard's face turned into a smile as he heard the door open. He had been waiting for you for a little while. You entered your shared home with dramatic huffs about the cold winter air. Soon he saw you walk into the living room with your hands full of logs.

“Brought some more wood.” You mumbled and dropped the logs into a wicker basket next to the fireplace.

He smiled at you, “There’s snow dropping from your coat,” he remarked softly. You stopped and looked behind you, then picked up the fallen snow with your hands, “Woops,” you said and marched back to remove your outerwear. “Lucille didn’t eat. We’ll need to monitor her,” you shouted at him from the hall.

He had grown up around cattle, unlike you. You were born into a city in England, but had moved to work as a Land Girl during the war. The first time he had met you was in 1944, in Aldbourne. You had walked past him in your overalls. Richard had almost turned around to get another look at you, but had continued walking to the house he was staying in, during his time in the country.

With some sheer luck, he could actually see part of a field from the second-story window of his bedroom. And a few days later, his eyes were suddenly drawn to a familiar looking girl walking past the road below. He set his book down and leaned forward, feeling slightly annoyed at himself for how he was acting toward a complete stranger. There you were, talking to some other women dressed like you, carrying pitchforks and shovels.

For the next week, he’d look at you work from his window. He had really tried not to. He had very important matters to prepare for, but his eyes would keep glancing at the field. Richard moved his desk shortly after this. He had strategies to memorize. Plus, he felt a little creepy.

Now, years later, you shuffled back into the living room. “Lucille didn’t eat,” you looked at him with a serious face. One of the cows wasn’t feeling well. He nodded, “So I heard. We’ll keep an eye on her.” You moved towards the fireplace and fed the fire.

Richard adjusted his position on the couch as he admired you. You had been outside for a while, the reddened cheeks proving it. He opened his arms when you stood back up, “C’mere,” he whispered at you. He felt like the luckiest man alive when you smiled and crawled into his arms. 

Richard smiled down at you when you wrapped your arms around his neck. Something about seeing you like this, your rosy cheeks making you look so vibrant, so full of life, it made his heart beat a little faster. He placed a kiss to your cheek, the skin still cold against his lips, then another to your forehead. You leaned into his embrace and pressed your cold nose against his neck. A deep chuckle escaped his throat. “Stop that,” he whispered but pulled you in closer to his chest.

After D-Day, when they had returned to England, Richard stayed in Aldbourne, instead of wreaking havoc in London, like many of his men had. He spent his days corresponding back home and resting from the chaos he had somehow walked out of alive. It had been nice to be back in England.

On the third day, he had walked into the post office to send some letters when his feet suddenly stopped in the doorway. There you were. You had picked up a package from the counter and turned around, and Richard was embarrassed to admit how often he had tried to remember what your face looked like from this close. 

Snapping away from the trance-like state seeing you again had put him in, he stepped away from your way. He opened the door and held it open for you as you walked past him.

“Thank you,” You had smiled for him. And he was completely lost in you.

masterlist

[missathlete31]

My Guess for the Top Gun 3 Movie Plot -

This is what I THINK it will be about, not necessarily what I WANT it to be about:

I think it's going to be way more Rooster centric but begin with Maverick to not scare off the loyalists right from the start. (But also if they begin the title credits with anything BUT planes taking off to the Main Theme, I'll walk out of the theater myself lol).

So it opens with Maverick in his hangar. He will be retired but still flying his own planes and restoring them. We see on his board of memories that Maverick is still close to Bradley and the Daggers (showing some of the other characters and where their lives have taken them) but the most important part will be a yet to be identified woman in some of the photos with Bradley, including what must be their wedding photo. Maverick walks away from the wall, cleans himself off and heads out on his motorcycle- Classic Danger Zone moment.

He arrives at a cute little bungalow type house in North Island. It's Bradley's and he welcomes his Godfather with a hug hello before bringing him inside. There we meet Rooster's wife (let's call her Jennifer to make it easier) who hugs Mav as well, and fusses him to sit while they bring dinner over to the table.

Dinner is a comfortable affair until Bradley brings up that his latest leave is up and he will be getting his orders soon. Jennifer immediately looks worried which Mav notices so he tries to play it off as maybe Bradley will be assigned another teaching position if he can manage not to annoy the Airboss again. Rooster takes the bait, says it wasn't his fault the man was uptight (showing a much freer and fun Bradley than the last movie) leading to them discussing all of Mav's teaching mishaps as well.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, and Bradley walks Pete out to his motorcycle. Before they part, Rooster shares that he has been hearing talks that they will be deployed towards the unrest in (I'd assume the studio will put in the area that will offend the least amount of people). Pete nods, he's heard the same whispers, but has been hoping Bradley's team will be spared. He warns Bradley to be careful regardless of where they go and to keep him informed. When Pete gets home he sees news reports of war and planes crashing and he looks miserable.

Cut to North Island where hopefully Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates (if both actors come back) stand in the briefing room talking to two Commanders: Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin. Both men stand at attention and listen as they are informed their teams are being deployed together. They will be tasked with aerial support and surveillance for the war area. When they are dismissed we learn they do get along much better now since the last movie. The rivalry is still there but it's more playful, Jake is still cocky and a bit of a jerk but Bradley gives it back just as much. The two head off to their respective teams to talk to them. We meet Rooster's team, a bunch of new pilots, young but good. They all seem eager to prove themselves in combat. Bradley is sure to reiterate to them that this is a war zone, this isn't games anymore, but the real thing. The team looks a bit more nervous now but agree and get to work with shaping up and preparing to ship out.

Back at home, Bradley informs Jennifer of his new orders as they lay together in bed. She worries, as he expects, but he promises to do everything he can to come back to her. She looks like she wants to tell him something but doesn't, and they both look uneasy as they turn off the lights to go to sleep.

Deployment goes well at first. It's all basic routes and routines and both Rooster's team and Hangman's team do well. There would be a bunch of clips of their time on the ship: the teams hanging out off duty, Bradley writing letters or calling Jennifer and Mav, or just interactions with each other.

One day alarms are blaring and all the pilots are woken up. Immediate air support is needed to protect a UN-sanctioned ammunition move that is under attack by the enemy forces. It's a toss up for which team will be sent up but finally the Admiral on deck sends Hangman's team. He offers Bradley a look before he heads out, and Rooster can't help feel like this flight is going to be different. He heads back down to his quarters to tell his team to stand-down, but they all stay to listen on the radio.

What was thought to only be a ground attack escalates very quickly. Hangman's team is ambushed and it is a massacre in the sky. Bradley is forced to listen as planes start dropping, nothing they can do to get out of there as they are out-numbered and severely out gunned. Seresin tries to protect his team and manages to get two of his pilots back but he himself is killed. Bradley is speechless.

The funeral for Hangman brings back a lot of the Daggers (as many as can be brought back due to scheduling). Rooster is really taking it hard as he feels like it very easily could have been him that was up there that day and faced all those enemy fighters. He knows he's lucky it wasn't but he also doesn't know when his luck is finally going to run out. He loves Jennifer and he is scared that he will leave her like his mother was left. Maverick sees Bradley struggling and tries to talk to him but old habits die hard and Bradley pushes him away, focusing on trying to help Hangman's family (because I think he would be married with a maybe a kid or two).

After the funeral Pete learns from Cyclone or Hondo that Rooster has put in to be permanently grounded. He goes to find his godson, learning during the trip that Bradley and Jennifer are expecting. Afraid of history repeating itself, Rooster explains that he can't go back out there, not after watching how easily Hangman was killed, and knowing the same thing could happen to him. He refuses to do that to Jennifer or his future child. Maverick takes the role of  Viper in this movie, talking to Bradley about his fears and telling him that flying is in his blood and he belongs out there. He can't control what might happen up there but he also can't let the fear of the what if's stop him. Bradley tells Maverick he will think about it but still doesn't rejoin his team.

This part is a little less developed but:

As the conflict heats up, Bradley is stationed back at a base on land. He hears of the devastation and learns of the casualties but still he hesitates. I'm not sure what the catalyst will be that gets him back out there (maybe he loses another teammate? Or someone else from the Daggers gets sent instead? I think it would be dramatic and maybe cliché but even maybe Bradley gets to hear his child's heartbeat for the first time and decides that his son deserves a father who doesn't hide and instead fights). Or to give Tom more screen time, maybe the two get to fly together again for a training and Bradley realizes that Maverick was right, his place is in the sky protecting his family and his country. Either way, Bradley deploys and rejoins his team.

Cut back to dogfight scenes. It will be dicey but Bradley will prevail, save the day for whatever chaotic mission needed to be complete, celebration on the deck, maybe even give Bradley his own little protégé that helps save his neck.

Movie ends back at the Hangar, Maverick is walking with his back to the camera over to the wall. When the camera shifts, there is a baby in his arms: it's little Nicholas Bradshaw and Pete is showing him all the photos of his family. The baby giggles at a photo of Carole and Goose, and then we see Bradley and Jennifer come up too, the whole family together and happy.

The End lol

Let it be known- I also think Hangman might live and just be really hurt. Depends on how high they want the shock value. If he's only hurt then he can talk to Rooster too about getting back up there (helping their relationship as well).

[despairots]

STARS ALIGNED — # CHAPTER ONE !

#DESC. you followed the one cold star that you weren’t told to. your parents has always told you to follow your destiny and fate but the more you heard it, the more you travelled off of your future.

#PAIRS. aquamarine hoshino x gender neutral! reader. slight fem! oc x gender neutral! reader.

#WARNINGS. violence, murder, manipulation, swearing, suggestive themes, dark themes, yandere themes, etc.

#DESPAIROTS NOTE. i started this series in school ,,, 😭 also this chapter wont have a lot of info abt the hoshino siblings or mentions of them but as it progresses, they will appear as i have a project due friday. also its short lmfao.

WHEN LIFE HAS BEEN forcing everything on you, it has bound for you to be driven to manipulation and greed. you were the most desperate person for fame and someone to know who you actually are.

the form of 4stros made you shape a persona that only fans and friends would know, no one actually knew who you were and what your intentions were. to be fair, all you wanted was fame and revenge.

you wanted to kill the person who ruined you, who destroyed your childhood life. you were forced to grow up because of them and your brain was forced to create another personality.

besides the trauma you dealt with, 4stros has grown into a popular idol group. people inspired to be like the group, especially you.

[name] was the leader with multiple fans and love letters with to many creepy stalkers in other, dark places but for some reason, they didn’t get bothered by them.

[name] was an idol and actor, a real life prodigy in action. but who knows, they might use that to their advantage.

maybe help a boy who’s the child of ai hoshino, a popular idol. would they use them too, maybe the two would toy with eachother? who knows, this is your story, not mine.

[NAME] HAD MULTIPLE PEOPLE look down on them when they were younger due to being claimed “weird”, it didn’t bothered them, most things didn’t bother them besides when people actually know them.

“[name] san? you there?” yashiro queried, pink eyes dotting at their leader. [name] smiled at them with a nod, “yes, yashiro chan?” they replied with a tone that would mame fans swoon. yashiro giggled and pecked their cheek before jumping up.

oka opened the door, hair cut and tied into a ponytail with a book that had all their songs, haru and juno were behind her aswell. “juno chan!” yashiro called out and hugged the women, who blushed and mumbled as she hugged back.

[name] walked up to them after waving, “oka chan~ are you done with the new song?” they were quite close to the lyricists face, light red on her cheek as she nodded at the leader who smiled.

“yes, i have.” oka answered with an emotionless tone, the 5 friends have been together since younger days and they’ve all helped eachother through their hardships.

they’ve been 4stro for a 2 years (this is the 3rd year) and this song is for their anniversary, X/XX/2023.

fans all over the place has been waiting for this day to come, expressing their gratitude for them and their excitement all over the 4stro’s fanpage. the anniversary has sky rocketed because of st4rs, the fandoms name.

[name] gave a few instructions before their mother knocked on the door, “[name] san? are — oh! you guys are here! i just wanted to remind you guys that you have school!” their mother reminded quickly and waved at the four friends.

“thanks ma!” [name] gritted in between their teeth, pulling their bag up as the five friends left for school, not before hiding themselves into they got there.

even though getting to school was hard, the amount of times paparazzi has noticed them and tried to invade their life was harder.

especially being classmates with creeps too . . .

“juno chan!” yashiro dragged out the ‘chan’, having juno push yashiro away from her with an annoyed look, the idol group already in class. “yashiro san! leave me alone!” juno whined, clearly enjoying the way yashiro laughed.

haru lightly chuckled whilst oka watched intently before looking back down at her phone, [name] sighed and laid their head down on their desk, peoples mutters being the only thing they heard.

“oh, [name] san!” a familiar girl’s voice rang through their ears, like a gunshot, kana arima stood beside their desk, a smile plastered on her voice.

[name] sat up, their face changing from a scowl to a fake smile, “kana chan!” kana winked at them as [name] just sat there, the same smiled plastered onto their face.

“pleasure seeing you again.”

“pleasures all mine, [name] san.” the two conversed, the classmates just watching with res pigment on their cheeks, having multiple idols in the same room as them.

“you did your hair?” kana asked, pointing at the dyed streaks in [name]’s hair, they lead nodding with a bright smile, having someone to notice at their school.

“i did, kana chan! thank you for noticing.” kana just smiled with closed eyes back at the doll like idol, who’s face returned to a scowl for a second before the teacher came in.

obviously the scowl was noticeably from their friends as they were aware of [name]’s greed and hatred for others, they didn’t point it out since they were all selfish.

they weren’t good people.

and lying to themselves got them nowhere—unlike [name], who admits things are just the way they are.

juno was the most envious, yashiro was the laziest, oka was the most saddest, haru had the most pride, and [name] was the most greediest.

they couldn’t help it. everyone was a horrible person and the more you lie about it, the more ignorant you are. [name] couldn’t help it but feel rage because of them.

“do you remember ruby and aquamarine hoshino?” them. oh them, how could [name] forget them! [name] hated them and their mother, they couldn’t stand the two of them.

“yes, why?” kana grinned before sitting down, not explaining why she had asked. the thought dwelled into their mind, remembering the times that they had seen them.

you met them by visiting a studio where kana was acting at, and surprisingly the hoshino twins were there. “ah! is this one of your friends, kana chan?” you walked up to them with a smile.

ruby blinked at you before smiling, “i love your eyes!” she complimented you, giving a red tint on your cheek. “o - oh, um, thank you…?” “ruby hoshino!”

“and that’s my brother, aquamarine hoshino but most of us call him aqua!” runy answered with cheerfulness that you wish you had.

“nice meeting you, ruby chan, aqua kun. i’m [name] [lastname], the child of hima [lastname], the famous singer, pleasure.”

a dark glint was in your eyes and a smirk plastered on your face, sometimes you wished you could rewatch the face aqua made when he saw you change your personality.

it was delightful to never see them again as they made your blood boil, you couldn’t help it. they were naive people, and you hated naive people.

[sweet-villain]

Pretty Girl~2~ Joseph Quinn

Part 1

sayaing

m-rae23

This is so cute! Would you consider doing a part 2 where he reads the letter she wrote for him and his reaction to it?

Joseph got back into his hotel room after a long day of meeting fans and the panels he had with his costars and fans. He sits on his bed going through what the fans have given him. He loved all the items and his fingers ran over the letters spotting one that stood out to him with your name on it.

He takes the envelope in his hands tracing his name and your name with his index finger, biting his lips as he remembers the interaction you had with him

He turns it over and carefully opens the envelope and gaped at the paper as it was neatly folded for him.

" For only Joseph Quinn eyes only" it read, he laughs as he reads it before opening it beginning to read it.

Dear Joseph or Joe,

I am writing this letter to tell you how much your character, Eddie has impacted my life. In a positive way. He's just like me, an outcast, love heavy metal music and just seems like a teddy bear

Joseph chuckles reading the teddy bear part thinking in a way that Eddie might be. He continues to read your letter

He has brought so much happiness into my heart and I would always rewatch his scenes whenever I'm upset or angry. Thank you, it might be silly about it all but you have no idea how Eddie and you made an impact in my life. There are so many words I could tell you how Eddie and I connected. The way he chose to not run and be a hero, pulled so many strings in my heart. The solo of Master Of Puppets is my favorite because it's actually my favorite song, when I heard it and watched Eddie play it, it made me love Eddie even more.

But, I adore you Joseph as an actor. I have been a fan for quite some time, loving your work more and more. I have heard many stories of how wonderful of a human being you are and I want to have a chance to experience it, I am going to get that chance finally and for the rest of my life... it will be my favorite moment. You deserve so much love and adoration. Even, the whole world. Because you, Joseph Quinn are a treasure to us, to me, to the fans and the world. I hope this letter brings you happiness in your heart, I heard you have a big heart too and I hope this letter leaves a home in it.

Stay amazing and wonderful,

Y/N

The letter has a drawing attached of him and Eddie, he was in awe of your drawing and was blown away by your kindness of words.

He takes out his phone to text you.

" I read your letter sweetheart, thank you so much for making my night and day" he clicks send and goes to open a present from another fan when he hears his phone buzz. He looks over it as it turned on the bed facing him, a smile and a blush reaches his cheeks.

" No, thank you for making it mine. You're really special Joseph"

" I told you to call me Joe" you on the other text message, blush forgetting that he did as you text him away.

" Do you wanna come to my room and hang out for a bit?" he asks. He doesn't even know if you two are in the same hotel and yet he was getting ahead of him.

You responded with a yes and that you saw him in the lobby when you went downstairs to get something from your car. He provided you with his room number and he waits.

He takes his time to put his fans gifts and letters on the table in the room not wanting it to be messy for you. He is beaming with excitement that you were going to spend time with him.

There is a knock on the door and he runs his fingers through his curls and straightening out his shirt before he answers the door. He opened the door and there you were, in a different outfit shyly smiling at him.

" Hi" you greet him, he chuckles at your shyness finding it adorable as you are and steps aside. You brush past him, your fingers brushing against his causing you to shiver. In a good way.

" Do you want a drink?" he asks, " I ordered some room service" he point his thumb at the door. You sit on his bed, bouncing as you do making him smile watching you get comfortable.

" Okay" you nod watching as he walked over to sit by you. You took noticed of your letter was the only thing he opened.

" I feel special" you motioned to the open letter. He looks down at his lap, his ears are red as well as his cheeks. He was too adorable.

" you are" he look up at you and his eyes lock with yours. His eyes look at your lips then back at your eyes. You do the same for him, not wanting to ask or push him as you sit there in silence.

" Your really pretty" he mumbles enough that you hear him.

" Thank you, so are you" he looks away acting shy. He isn't used to the compliments but looks back at you to see you had placed your hand on his.

" You're hair looks really soft" you blur out all of sudden making him laugh as he leans down close to you with his head. " You can run your fingers through it, if you want. I don't bite, unless you want me to" he tilted his head a bit to see you and you catch him smirking.

You don't answer him feeling your heart racing as you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. As you do, he can't help but let out a moan as if feels good as you play with his hair and your nails scraping his scalp.

" Oh, sorry" you say hearing him moan and pulling your hand away but he shakes his head as sits up. " It's okay, sweetheart. I liked that very much"

" You had pretty hair" he says picking up the ends of it with his fingers before brushing your hair around to your back. Your neck is exposed to him and he bites his lips looking at it wondering if your skin is soft. He wants to place his lips there for you to feel his hot breath.

" Thank you" but your eyes catch the way his brown eyes go a bit darker as he stares at your neck.

" If you really want to bite me, go ahead" you catch him off guard as his eyes go wide and he blushes, looking away.

" Joe" you call out to him. He hesitantly and shyly looks back at you hearing you.

" It's okay" you nod to him. He leans down, his hot breath is on your neck as he places a soft kiss there causing another shiver to go up your spine. He notices the goosebumps and the way your body reacted to him. You liked it.

He does it again, but this time his tongue peeks out as he licks you there and grazes his teeth against your skin. Your hands go grab a fistful of his shirt tugging him closer. He leans away from your neck and turns your head with his fingers.

" Is this okay?" he asks as he leans in, staring into your eyes wanting to kiss you. " Can I?" he glances at your lips then back at your eyes. You want to kiss him too. You swallow the lump in your throat as you lean in telling him it was okay to kiss you.

He brushes his lips against yours testing the waters seeing if you'd pull away and when you don't, he presses his lips against yours. He waited the whole day to do this.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck tugging him closer and you laid down on his bed with him on top. His lips feel so soft like an angel kiss. They dance against yours.

His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth letting him. His tongue dances with yours. He tastes like mint and cigarettes. You love it.

He moans into the kiss loving your tongue dancing with his in a tango. He pulls away too soon to look down at you, " You're really amazing, sweetheart. I'm glad I met you."

" Me too, but it's okay if we kiss again?" he smiles widely, moving a piece of your hair from your face before leaning down to kiss you.