#but in this video talking about 'we lost our baby any-'

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Ok regarding that “can i make Yves do my homework if I give him my childhood pictures” ask, exactly how much access does Yves have to our lives? Does he have images or videos from when we were still a baby or would they be new information to him?

A bunch of my baby pictures and videos are lost because my dad lost the computer that had them but we recently found my aunt’s old camera filled with our childhood pictures, it was a pleasant surprise for us but would it be for Yves too?

It absolutely is. If Yves was there with you while your aunt showed you the photo gallery of her old camera, Yves would momentarily lose a bit of inhibition and let his pupils dilate to a maddening degree before instantly constricting it back to appear normal. It's a rare, super deluxe edition photos of you, there isn't anything else like it out there as they're most likely not uploaded to the internet or a cloud based service, where he could easily hack.

Him coming across media from your childhood or at least during those early days where people still go to and get their photos developed, is like winning the lottery for him. Because, although he tries to collect everything relating to your existence, there is only so much he can do in a day. He rather prioritizes the present and the future, as the past is the past; neither you nor him can change it, he can only understand or connect it to your current behaviours or thought patterns.

He does have some information about you as a baby or a child, but that is if they're "readily available" to him. (I.e., it can be found in predictable places like in your childhood home.), that is why, Yves would try to build a good relationship with people you grew up with, to extract information.

Despite being reclusive as he is, Yves would never fail to attend every and any family gathering he is invited to or expected to come. Encouraging that drunk uncle to drink more if he knew he has something to say about you, bribing your relatives with gifts and career opportunities, perhaps even drugging that really difficult and combative cousin to make them more bearable to interrogate.

As soon as he knew your aunt could be another goldmine of your data, he would get to work. Wasting no time building a rapport with her, it's a piece of cake given how obsessive and manipulative his nature is.

Inevitably, your aunt will come to love him and see Yves as family. By extension, her relationship with you will skyrocket too, she will invite you to her place much more often even though she might not be the most sociable person in the first place. Yves will find a way to make her bend to his whims.

The majority of their conversations would be about you, only sometimes Yves would talk about something else if it meant he could keep the drive to spill more about your lore going. His sharp ears and mind will pick up on clues as to where he might find more pictures or writings about you. He would then break into your aunt's home to give it a thorough shakedown and leave without a trace. Yves would repeat this process until he's positive that she has nothing left to offer. That camera is getting fucking stolen and replaced with a duplicate.

It didn't matter if your aunt was a minimalist or a severe hoarder, he would go through all her things just to try and find pieces of your puzzle. He would wade through cobwebs, dust piles, rat droppings and mould if he had to, Yves isn't scared to get dirty to obtain what he wants, "squeamish" isn't in his vocabulary.

When she is robbed of all your essence, Yves would become distant. Not hostile towards her, just cold and indifferent. He would still maintain some sort of relationship with her though, in case she becomes useful again later. As of now, he either puts his entire focus on your current peripheral and direct life, or start to hunt other members down- from his snooping, he had learned of other people who may have valuable input about your childhood.

All of this is happening in the background. You wouldn't suspect a thing, there wasn't a dip in his attention for you. In fact, he may have gotten a lot more smothering, as Yves would be shaking at the thought of testing out his new theories and hypothesis that were birthed from his new knowledge.

He just loves you so much that he couldn't help himself but to get greedy. Yves wants all of you; past, present and future. And any version of you that could have been.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!! #men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....

[xgsturn]

good idea? - ( c.s )

summary: you couldn’t sleep so you decided to text chris asking if he wanted to smoke, it’s something you both always did and one thing lead to another.

warnings: SMUT, smoking (weed), oral (female receiving), pet names, (ma, baby), p n v (let’s not be silly wrap before u tap). probably more but idk

word count: 1,557

author’s note: this is my first one shot i’m scared LMFAOOO also i didn’t proofread sorry if there is any mistakes!!

please let me know if you want to be un added or added into the taglist. i had just decided to add my favorite writers!!

also my request & inbox are open 💓💓

-

i’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past 20 minutes. i’ve shifted and turned so many times i honestly lost count.

i open my eyes, groaning with annoyance. some nights i had trouble falling asleep, but there was always one solution to that problem.

i grab my phone, opening the messages app before quickly clicking chris’ contact.

this was a thing that happened every now and then. if one of us had troubles going to sleep i’d go over to his or vise versa. we’d smoke together and then usually get tired after that.

i hear a soft knock against my window signaling that he was here. i walked over to see chris sitting on the small balcony that was attached to the window.

i opened the window, climbing through feeling a slight breeze on my shoulders before shrugging it off.

“like i said you could’ve just used the door” i playfully roll my eyes at him.

“suck my dick” he replied back before sitting down on the ground. “when?” i said seriously. he raised his eyebrows and looked up at me.

“in all seriousness, you’re a life saver.” i sigh, sitting down, and relaxing my body.

he pulled out a fresh rolled joint from his sweatpants pocket, “i know” he smirked, putting the joint between his lips.

“lighter” he mumbles against the joint.

i toss him the lighter, watching as he lit it and inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out.

i’ll never deny the fact that chris is hot, we had a flirty friendship from the beginning but nothing ever got to far.

he passes the joint to me, i relight it due to the wind causing it to ash out.

i inhale, feeling the smoke enter my lungs. i look at him as i blew it out.

the joint eventually dies out. i look over to chris, starting to admire the way the dim street light in front of him is showing off his features. his hair slightly messy, his eyes hanging low and red and fuck his lips-, he interrupts my thoughts.

“did you hear anything i just said?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of some trance i was in.

“sorry, what were you saying?”

“i asked if you wanted to go inside, it’s getting a little cold” he repeats himself, looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

“oh yeah, sorry just a bit distracted” i reply back covering my face from embarrassment.

as i’m climbing back into my room i feel chris’ gaze burning through me.

i get into my room and chris follows right behind me.

-

chris and i have been talking for the past 15 minutes. we both got onto our phones scrolling aimlessly, sitting in a comfortable silence.

i still can’t help to think about him, how his touch would feel on me, how his lips would feel against mine, how his long slender fingers would feel inside me.

i zoned out with a video playing over and over.

“what are you thinking about?” chris looked at me curiously through his low hooded eyes.

we were both still feeling the high effects.

what am i thinking about? i’m asking myself the same question. we have been best friends for years. i mean i’ve always found chris attractive, but tonight is different.

the way his body is leaned against the headboard, his biceps slightly flexing as he puts down his phone and crosses his arms, putting his full focus on me.

maybe it’s just the weed still lingering or maybe i just crave his touch.

“nothing.” i reply trying to act nonchalant but clearly not working.

“nothing, hm?” chris smiles loosely, as he looks down at my thighs then back up to my eyes, making heavy eye contact.

i follow his gaze down to my thighs, realizing how tightly squeezed they are.

i widened my eyes and look back up at him, before trying to relax the ache between my legs.

he puts his hand between my legs, spreading them open. he rotates his body, fully facing me now. his lips inches away from mine.

“is this a good idea?” i say studying his face for an answer.

“do you want this?” he replies in a serious tone.

“so bad but-.”

before i’m done speaking, i feel a hand on my jaw, pulling me closer to him and attaching my lips to his.

my body tenses from the sudden move but quickly relaxes soon after.

he bites my bottom lip softly, making my mouth part open giving him access to slip his tongue in.

he climbs on top of me, refusing to break the kiss.

our tongues fought for dominance before letting him win.

i tugged on his hair, signaling i wanted more. he groaned into my mouth, making me squeeze my legs around his waist. i couldn’t ignore the feeling between my thighs anymore.

“tell me what you want.” he spoke, trying to catch his breath. his lips pink and swollen.

i swallowed, “anything.” i feel desperate for him, wanting to feel some kind of relief.

“be more specific baby”

“need your fingers.” i mumbled quietly.

“good girl” he smirked, pulling my shorts down to my ankles. he slowly kisses my thighs going to the areas around my core.

he avoided where i needed him most.

“please.” i say while looking down at him through my lashes.

his hand still on the band of my pink thong. “can i take these off?” he whispered, looking at me. i nodded.

“i need to hear you say it ma”

“fuck, yes please” i practically beg.

he pushed my thong to the side before glazing one fingers over my entrance.

he slipped one fingers inside me slowly, letting me adjust. i moan into my hand muffling it.

he removes my hand from my mouth, putting it beside me. “i want your neighbors hearing how good i make you feel.”

i got even wetter after that sentence.

as i adjusted, i wanted more. “another one.. please” he listens to my commands and adds his second finger.

he started going faster, curling his fingers inside me and hitting that spongy spot each time. “f-fuck, chris.” i moan out, my fingers gripping my sheets.

he adds his mouth into the mix, sucking and licking my clit with such precision that made me start rolling my hips towards him.

my back was arching as he continued with his eyes fixed on my face.

i knew chris was experienced but i wasn’t expecting this.

my knees were already getting weak. “chris…” my hand going to his brown loose curls, tugging them. “i’m close.” i started to squirm underneath him.

“not yet.” he spoke against my cunt, sending vibrations through my entire body.

as soon as he said those words i couldn’t hold it anymore. the knot in my stomach eventually snapped, coating chris’ face and fingers with my cum.

“you can’t follow a simple rule?” his expression was stern and serious, while licking his fingers and mouth clean.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t hold it” i reply, breathing heavy with worry all over my face.

he doesn’t say anything, instead he starts taking off his sweatpants following with his boxers. his dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

he was big and thick which honestly i wasn’t surprised about.

it was already leaking with pre cum. a vein coming from the tip to the base.

“think you can handle another?”

i move my eyes up to his face, “i- i don’t know if i can.” i stutter out.

“yes you can and you will” he says firmly.

his eyes darkened with lust, turning me on more.

i nod my head obeying him.

“which position do you want me in?”

“lay on your back so i can see your pretty face.” he slightly tilts his head and smirks.

the ache between my legs comes back causing me to clench my thighs again.

he notices and pushes his knee between my legs, leaving it against my bare cunt.

a pornographic moan leaving my mouth, as i try to grind against his knee to feel some kind of relief.

“be patient baby.” he strokes his dick a couple of times to fully harden it.

he removes his knee and bends down to push himself in.

we both moan feeling the pleasure that we were craving.

chris started thrusting his hips into mine at such a fast pace, and at this point i could cum at any minute.

he leans down and starts kissing my neck sloppily as he tries to remain at his pace.

“taking me so well.” he whispers into my ear.

“chris” that’s all i could say, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as my hips lazily jolted up meeting his thrust half way.

“hm? i fucked you dumb huh.” i nod as a response. i couldn’t even think of a sentence to prove him wrong.

he started rubbing on my clit fast. i threw my head back, my mouth hanging open but nothing coming out.

“cum for me ma.” he said maintaining eye contact, that was all i needed before i squirmed underneath him and came all over his dick. “that’s my girl” he whispered.

he groaned and let his head drop as came into me. i felt his warm liquid feel me up.

he dropped his body beside mine, turning to look at me. “holy fucking shit” he chuckled, catching his breath.

“so friends with benefits?” i suggest while also catching my breath. “fuck yes” he replies almost immediately, making me laugh beside him.

“here let’s go get you clean up” he says while getting up from the bed.

-

tag list!!

@lovingmattysposts @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @strawberrysturniolo @luvmila444 @m4ttslvr @sturniol0s @fawnchives @hysteria-things

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic

[phoward89]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5:

Coriolanus is at the PK Base in the communications center, sitting in one of the video phone booths. He's holding the receiver to his ear and watching the staticy small screen; waiting for Tigris to answer. He has so much to tell her. In fact, he's over the moon to tell her all about the love of his life: you. He's absolutely positive that she'll be happy for him.

When the static breaks and then clears slightly to show his cousin, he smiles like a madman. “Tigris, it's so good to see you!” Coriolanus exclaims, so much excitement in his baritone.

Tigris' gentle blue eyes widened slightly at her cousin's chipper demeanor. He was usually sullen during their sporatic calls. “Oh, Coryo, you look so much happier since the last time we talked. Did something happen?” The blonde girl asked, curious to know why her cousin was suddenly in a better mood.

“Yes.” Coryo nodded. Beaming, he blurted out, “I got a girl, Y/N, and she's just a perfect sweet darling.” His baby blues were sparkling with pride as he added in, “We’re serious, have our own place and when I pass the Elite Officer's Examine we’ll be able to leave 8.”

“Oh…” Tigris trailed off, her face full of shock. She wasn't expecting her cousin to be so serious with somebody so soon. Especially after he seemed so heartbroken about never being able to see Lucy Gray ever again.

Was Tigris wrong in her assumption that Coryo loved the songbird? If so, then she truly hopes that he's found love with you. But she also knows that her cousin has the genetics that can easily make him become like his father: General Crassus Snow.

Hearing him say that he's taking an Elite Officer's Exam makes her skin crawl. Tigris knows how cold the officers are in the various branches of Panem's military; she doesn't want her sweet cousin to be turned into a cold, heartless, hateful man to be used as a tool for the country.

A country that kills tweens and teens for entertainment disguised as punishment. Gosh, everything about Panem makes Tigris sick. And to think that her cousin, her sweet little Coryo who's a good person, could be used in a way to support the country's propaganda and skewed outlook bothers her. Makes her blood freeze up in her veins.

“Isn’t it great news, Tigris?” The platinum blonde peacekeeper asked, fishing for praises.

“Yes, yes it is, Coryo.” Tigris replied, her smile a bit too tight, too forced, and her voice a bit flat.

Coryo's face fell at his cousin's overly fake reply. “I thought you'd be happy for me Tigris.”

“I am happy for you, Coryo. I am.” Tigris weakly assured her cousin.

“I've found somebody that makes me happy, who needs me; makes me feel powerful, and I'm one step closer to getting us back home, to the Capitol. But, you don't sound as happy about it as you claim to be.”

“Coryo…” Tigris sighed, trying to find the right words to tell him about the hardships that have fallen upon their family within the last few weeks.

“Is Grandma’am around?” Asked the platinum peacekeeper. “I'm sure that she'd be happy to hear about my accomplishments.”

“Coryo, Grandma'am’s in hospice.” Tigris revealed, her tone sad as her face twitched with sorrow.

“Hospice! What do you mean she's in hospice? She was fine a month ago, what the hell did you do to her, Tigris?!”

“Me? Oh, Coriolanus, do you hear yourself right now?” The blonde aspiring fashionista snipped. Shaking her head, Tigris started to explain, “Grandma’am just shut down and started to wither away after we lost the penthouse-”

Coriolanus icy eyes popped out of his head. “Y-you lost the penthouse?! When were you going to tell me this, Tigris? Huh?”

“The back taxes were just too much to pay, so the penthouse was put on the market. But, Pluribus is letting me stay in the apartment above his club.”

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with Grandma'am being admitted to hospice care?”

“Coryo, having to declare bankruptcy and sell the penthouse; letting all of the Capitol know that the Snow's are poor just broke her dear old heart.”

“She's dying from a broken heart? Really?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief.

“Yes.” Tigris nods. “The doctor said that Grandma’am lost the will to live; that it'll only be a short matter of time before she goes. And she's already in a catatonic state.”

“Are you still working for Fabricia Whatnot?” Coryo asked, his baritone colder than it had been mere minutes ago.

“Yes, I'm still working for her.” His cousin confirms with a nod.

“Good, because I won't be sending half of my pay to you anymore. The Grandma’am will be dead soon, due to her own pride and self induced delusions, and my money, honestly, is better suited taking care of my girl here in 8.” Coriolanus told Tigris in a chilly tone. One so chilly that it'd cause hell to freeze over.

“Coryo-” Tigris began, confusion all over her makeup slathered face, only to be cut off by Coriolanus’ icily steady voice saying, “I'm all my girl’s got, Tigris. I have to take care of her.” Looking at his cousin like he didn't even know her anymore, he remarked, “Unlike you, Y/N doesn't lie to me about how bad things are. At least she's honest, but you've had to have known for months about the past due back taxes on the penthouse and you never said a damn word to me about it.”

“Coryo…I didn't want you to worry about us. I was taking care of everything.”

“Time’s about up, Tigris.” The platinum peacekeeper announced, feeling betrayed and lied to by his cousin, who he viewed as more of a sister then a cousin.

“Coriolanus, you sound just like your father right now.” Tigris pointed out, her heart breaking at hearing the frostiness in his baritone and seeing cold deadness in his eyes.

“Well, I am his son. Perhaps I'll follow in his footsteps; rise to military greatness.” Private Snow told his cousin before saying a curt goodbye and hanging up on her.

It's getting close to the time that Coryo usually comes home from work and you're in the small kitchenette making dinner. It's nothing too fancy, just a simple stew. But your platinum peacekeeper never complained about what you made. He always ate his supper with a smile plastered on his face. In fact, he'd usually get seconds; pester you into eating another share too (he always said it was in order to build up your strength so you'll heal faster).

You're stirring the pot, making sure that nothing sticks to the bottom, whenever a faint knock appears at your door. You almost don't hear it over the sound of the radio, that's how light the knock is. Not wanting the stew you worked so hard on this afternoon to burn, you turn off the stove before going to answer the door.

“Ashlie, what're you doing here?” You asked your brother’s former girlfriend as she stood in front of you.

“Some of the girls at the factory are worried about you; I said I'd stop by and check up on you after my shift.” Ashlie answered as you heard the sound of Coryo's boots clambering up the building’s staircase.

Nodding, you simply said, “I'm fine.”

“Are you, Y/N?” Ashlie pressed.

Nice of her to worry about you now, but where was she before?

“There's been rumors that you've taken up with that blonde peacekeeper. That he's been living with you.” Ashlie all but hissed in a shameful tone.

“It's not a rumor.” You told her while noticing Coryo's tall denim clad frame appear at the top of the stairs, right down the hall.

“Look, Y/N, I'm sorry about not being around as often as I should, but if you need help gettin’ away from that peacekeeper I'm sure that Declan can help smuggle you out of the district.”

Smuggle you out where? You don't have any money and you're all alone. How are you going to survive hiding out in another district? Districts you're sure are just as bad if not worse than 8. The poor, lower end districts are all clumped together and, frankly, they seem to get worse and worse as you start going between them.

At least with Coryo your rent's paid, you've got enough food to eat, and you're not cold anymore. He’s decent company, when he's not in a condescending mood, and he seems to be devoted to you despite not knowing you that long. With Coryo you're comfortable for the first time in a long time. For once since moving to 8 you're not tempted to do a swan dive off the bridge into the toxic river surrounding the district.

You'll take your chances with your peacekeeper.

Shaking your head, as Coriolanus trudged down the hall, you told Ashlie, “I'm fine here with Coryo. He takes good care of me, so you don't need to worry.”

“And what happens when he gets bored of you; tosses you aside for another girl?” Ashlie asked as your boyfriend got closer. “Y/N, sweetheart, don't be a fool and trust him. He's a Peacekeeper for Christ’s sakes.” Berates your once sister. “One bred straight from the Capitol as I understand too.” The brunette spat out in disgust, right as your platinum peacekeeper appeared behind the girl that's slandering him.

“Darling, is this ratty whore bothering you?” Coryo coldly asked, his icy eyes narrowed at the girl blocking his way into the apartment, as he came to a stop right by the door.

His frosty timbre startles Ashlie; has her jumping out of her skin. Coryo's tone of voice doesn't bother you one bit. Why should it? His coldness isn't aimed at you.

“She was just leaving.” You assure your boyfriend, only to give Ashlie a look that reads ‘you need to go, now'.

“Well the girls at the factory are worried about you; hopefully you'll be able to return to work soon.” Ashlie remarked instead of leaving, like she should’ve done.

“She won't be returning to work at the factory.” Coryo bluntly announced, pushing himself by Ashlie and literally shoving you inside of the apartment. He blocked your view with his tall, sinewy frame while standing right in the doorway.

The platinum blonde's head lifted up in superiority. His glacier blue eyes bore into the former Seam girl with disdain as he explained, “As Y/N’s man, I take care of her and pride myself in treating her the way a proper Capitol born man treats his girl.” Gripping the door so hard that the wood began to splinter and crack, he barked out, “You're not needed around here. She's got me, so leave or else I'll bring you to base and turn you in as a rebel.”

Ashlie's Seam grey eyes widened in fear and horror at hearing Coriolanus’ words. With the rumors that she's heard about you being kept under lock and key by the platinum blonde peacekeeper, who by now everyone knew was sent from the Capitol; was a second generation military man, Ashlie was starting to worry about you. And when the girls that worked with you on the looms in the PK uniform factory’s weaving room started to express their worries to Ashlie, well she decided to pay you a visit.

Offer you some much needed support. A lifeline out of the predicament you're in.

But the brunette wasn't expecting you to turn down her help, to insist on staying with your oppressor. She also didn't think she'd be threatened by said oppressor, the pretty boy peacekeeper from hell itself. Ashlie feared for both her own safety and yours.

Maybe she should've came around more often, then maybe you wouldn't have become such easy prey for a peacekeeper with a cold hateful glint in his eyes.

“And the next time you show up to my house I'll have you hanged off the bridge’s trestle.” Coriolanus darkly promised, his face a mask showing no feelings, before slamming the door shut in Ashlie's face.

Coryo was quiet as he shed his coat, hanging it up on the hook near the door. “I made stew. I'll go dip it up.” You told him while he began to unlace his boots.

“It smells good, darling.” Coriolanus complimented, slipping out of his black boots, as you grabbed some bowls from the cabinet.

“You say that about everything I make.” You teased, portioning out the stew into a pair of bowls as Coryo pulled off his denim fatigue shirt.

Walking over to the table and laying his denim overshirt on the back of his chair, the platinum blonde simply said, “Because it's true.”

The atmosphere in the room wasn't heavy per say, but it wasn't light either. You felt like something happened today, something to put him in a sort of mood. And not a good one either. You really didn't want to stoke his mood into a roaring fire of unliveable sassy attitude, so you didn't say a teasing word back to him.

No, you just carried the bowls of stew over to the small table as Coryo took his seat at it. You couldn't help, but slip on a smile at the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dwarfing the sorry excuse for a kitchen table you had. Hell, the table looked more like a small school desk as he sat at it.

Silently, Coryo followed your every move with his icy eyes. He watched as you set the food on the table before fetching the bottle of milk from the fridge. Coryo knows how luxurious fresh milk is, so he's proud that he can buy it for you. He himself went without it for so many years in the Capitol.

The Snow family always seemed to go without; to struggle within the safe borders of the Capitol. Something that he was supposed to change. Coriolanus was supposed to dig his family out of poverty, but instead his family's been torn apart.

All because Tigris lied to him about how bad things really were.

Fuck!

He would've found a way to get her the money for the back taxes, to avoid a foreclosure on the Snow ancestral home, if she would've only told him that she couldn't pay.

How could Tigris, his own cousin, do that to Grandma’am; to him? And most of all to you.

You!

Who he promised to whisk away to the Capitol once he was able to. Now where are the both of you going to go when he gets clearance as an Elite Officer to return home: to the Capitol? He sure as hell can't bring you to the above club shoebox apartment Pluribus gave Tigris.

And to think that his Grandma’am's dying from a broken heart because her home was taken from her. Her beloved rooftop rose garden that was her joy is now withered if not destroyed by the highest bidder. To think that the old lady's in hospice, due to no will to live, all because Tigris couldn't be honest about the back taxes.

Damnit, fucking bitch should've worked a few corners to come up with the money. Anything to pay the past due taxes; keep the Snow family penthouse in the Snow family.

Where it belongs.

The sound of the milk glasses lightly clinking against the warped wooden table tore Coriolanus out of his thoughts. Watching you sit down next to him, he grabbed his spoon and told you, “Darling, let's promise not to lie to each other. Shall we?”

Oh boy, something definitely happened to him today. You didn't know what, but his remark about lying to each other tipped you off that he was lied to and he's upset about it.

Picking up your own spoon, you tell him, “I promise I won't lie to you, Coryo.”

“And I won't lie to you, Y/N. Which is why I have to tell you something very unsettling.”

Something very unsettling? What the hell did he do, shoot somebody during target practice? Murder somebody for a spot on the Elite Officer's Examine roster? Hell, the suspense is killing you.

Not literally, just figuratively.

“Today I talked to my cousin, Tigris, on the phone in the base’s communications center and I learned that things are worse than I thought they were back home: in the Capitol.” He revealed in between eating his stew.

Having a bad feeling, you asked, “What's wrong, Coryo?”

“The Snow penthouse has been seized and put into foreclosure for unpaid back taxes.” Coryo spat out, his eyes full of anger, as he held his spoon so hard that it was about to bend between his fingers.

His family home foreclosed due to back taxes. Oh boy… You weren't expecting to hear that. You can only imagine how high priced the taxes are in the Capitol considering how pricey things are in the districts. Capitol City, Panem is full of rich elites or wannabe rich elites, so…Yea…The price tag on things in the Gem of Panem, the Capitol, is surely higher than in the rest of the country.

“Tigris told me that everything was fine, but she lied.” Shaking his head, he tossed his spoon in his bowl, causing a loud clang to ring out. “I've been sending home money, assuming that Tigris was using it wisely, but now I don't even know what she did with it.” Reaching for his milk glass, he dryly added, “She didn't pay the taxes, that much I know.”

Reaching forward and placing your hand on top of his, you gave him an empathetic look. You felt for him, for his family. “Coryo, I'm sorry she lied; made you think everything’s ok when it isn't.”

Your boyfriend threads your fingers together, holding your hand, as he sips on his milk. He can't help, but feel lucky to have you. You're being so supportive and understanding about his family's fall from grace.

About him losing the Snow ancestral home. The home that he was supposed to take you to.

Placing his glass down after drinking from it, Coryo shook his head while gritting out, “And now Grandma’am's in hospice, dying of a broken heart, because she was forced out of her home.”

Poor Coryo…

To lose his home, his grandma, and to be lied to by his cousin.

“Seems like we've got more in common than what meets the eye.” You told him, letting him know that you sympathized with his situation.

“It seems we do, darling.” Coryo nodded. Picking his spoon up and scooping a portion of stew out of his bowl, he repeated, “It seems we do.”

You're washing the dishes whenever you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. Coryo's right behind you, hanging on you, but you don't pay him any mind. You just keep on washing the bowl in your hand with the sponge- a sponge that has seen better days.

Your boyfriend nuzzles his nose into your temple, inhaling your scent. Kissing your cheek, he swears, “I promise, once I'm an officer and get into a wealthy position I'll buy back our home. We'll live in it once again.”

“Don't make promises that you can't keep, Coryo.” You advised him, rinsing out the bowl and setting it aside on the makeshift drying rack (which was a cookie cooling rack resting on a dishtowel).

“I intend to keep that promise, baby.” He told you in between peppering kisses up and down your neck.

“Coryo, stop that. I still have dishes to do.” You sighed, trying and failing to wiggle out of his hold while starting on the second dirty bowl.

“One day when I become President and make you my First Lady you won't ever have to lift a finger to wash a dish ever again.” Coryo smoothly murmured, kissing the sweet spot right below your ear.

“To make me your First Lady you'll have to marry me, Mister President.” You sarcastically pointed out, rinsing soap suds and bubbles out of the bowl.

You're placing the bowl onto the drying rack whenever Coryo spins you around. Tipping your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his baby blues, he seriously tells you, “Once I get my officer’s stripes I'm going to marry you.”

The weight of his words comes crashing down on your head like an anvil in an old cartoon. “You really want to marry me?” You asked, not quite believing the situation to be real.

You're just some district girl that he got into trouble and felt pity for. Yes, he takes care of you, but making you his wife's a whole other story. That's a lifetime commitment considering divorce was abolished in the early years of Panem's creation- which was after the end of both WW3 and the 2nd Civil War, which coincided.

“Yes, baby.” The platinum blonde nodded. A wide smile spread across his face as he cemented his fate with the words of, “I'm going to marry you and give you the life that we both deserve as Snows once I get my officer's commission.”

“You know, people in the districts have different ceremonies then Capitolites do for marriages.” You informed him; knowing that you're going down a path you can't turn off of as you do. “Couples in 12 do a toasting by breaking bread at the hearth over a fire they stoke.”

“Too bad we don't have a fireplace.” Coriolanus seriously pouted.

Oh wow, he's serious about this marriage thing. Lucky you.

“Yes, too bad.” You half heartedly agreed with him. Resting your hands on his chest, you decided to explain what you learned about weddings in District 8. “I've heard that here in 8 most weddings are typically held on Tuesdays and Thursdays in November and December.”

Your boyfriend’s brow rose with interest. “December you say?”

“Yes.” You confirm as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The bride sews her own dress, which is typically blue or purple, and makes a large amount of food for the guests who stay for dinner and then a late supper. While family and friends are gathered at the house, the couple’s joined hands are bound by a strip of cloth; then they recite words or poetry to complete the ritual.”

“And this ritual’s binding in the eyes of District 8?” Coriolanus asked, holding your gaze with his icy eyes. Eyes that were filled with both trepidation and hope.

“It's binding in all of the districts. I'm not sure about the Capitol tho.”

Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he simply said, “Mary me on Thursday. I'll bring Sejanus home with me and we'll do the 8 ceremony.”

Believing it impossible to marry so soon, you react with, “But that's in 2 days, Coryo. I'll barely have enough time to make a dress. Plus I have to cook food.”

Bringing his other hand up to your face, so he was cradling it between his large calloused hands, the platinum blonde told you, “I'll bring home some material for your dress tomorrow and the only guest you need to cook for is Sejanus. You don't need to cook up our entire pantry.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Let me take care of you; marry me, baby.”

If you say yes to this sudden spur of the moment wedding you'll be giving up your freedom. In the districts’ eyes you'll become Mrs. Snow, wife of a Peacekeeper. One who's certain he'll become an Elite Officer. Is that what you want?

Hell…

You honestly don't even know what you want. But you do know that you refuse to go cold and hungry ever again because you're alone and can barely get by.

So, for survival purposes, you give Coryo a smile and tell him, “I’ll marry you.”

Without warning, Coryo kisses you. His lips hungrily pressed against yours, as if he was a man starved and his only fulfillment came from your mouth. You moved your lips against his, which only caused him to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers twisted and dug into his white T-shirt as your tongues intimately danced while your lips clashed, pushing and pulling for purchase.

You let out a little breathless sigh as Coryo broke the kiss, pulling back slightly so the two of you could catch your breath.

Coryo's icy blue eyes were nearly black with lust as he looked into the windows of your soul. His large hands still cup your face as he confessed, “I’d love nothing more than to bring you to our bed and fuck you right now, but since we're to be married in 2 days I'll wait til the wedding night.”

“Oh, so you're going to make an honest woman out of me first before you corrupt me?” You asked, your tone a bit light and teasing.

What difference was a couple of days? It wasn't like you're from a rich aristocratic family that needs to see the sheets in the morning for proof of innocence lost and consummation.of marriage. You're a district girl, nobody in the districts care about purity til marriage, etc.

Besides, even before you agreed to marry him you knew you'd be fucking Coriolanus. He's your boyfriend, it comes with the territory. The only question was when.

Now you have your answer: this Thursday night- your district style wedding night.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Coryo steadfastly declared, “You can't corrupt someone who's willing to drink from the silver cup, my darling.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader #peacekeeper coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #delusional!coryo snow #delulu!coriolanus snow #delulu!coryo snow #delusional!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coryo x reader #tbosas fic #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coryo snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x y/n #coryo snow x you #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader

[soulkeeper801]

Phone - Twice Sana

Requested: can i request sana x reader where she’s on tour and away from r. she misses her and calls. while on the call r notices sana go awfully quiet, only shallow breaths heard, and stops talking, then sana tells r to “keep talking”…

Sana x f!reader

Words 1.1k

Fluff, a little smut?

(A/N: this could be a second part to A Thing, if you wanna check that one out)

“It’s so unfair!” Sana whined at her phone screen when she saw you pouting. 

Even if you were in different time zones, she still managed to find the time to facetime you or at least call you to hear your voice. 

Only a few days after you officially got together, the group had to leave for their US tour for a couple of weeks which meant Sana couldn’t be all over you like she had been for the last few days. 

“I wanna kiss that pout away, baby,” she continued, looking at you with stars in her eyes. “I’m going to do everything in my power to bring you with us the next tours we have, it’s extremely necessary for us to have one of the choreographers on the road and it’s vital for me to have you by my side every night!”

You chuckled at her remark, “I would love to spend every night with you, love”.

Sana whined one more time, crossing her arms and pouting at your words. “I want you here,” she whispered, her heart feeling heavy due to the overwhelming feelings she had for you.

You sent her a flying kiss which she lovingly took and placed against her lips. 

“Sana-ssi, we’re leaving in five minutes!” a voice from outside of her hotel room shouted, gaining her attention for a second before focusing it back on you. 

“I gotta go,” she said with sadness in her voice. “Are you going to miss me?” a playful smile adorned her lips.

“Every minute, baby”.

“I’m going to call you before I go to bed, is that okay?” she asked, making sure she wasn’t being too clingy or interrupting any plans you might have.

“If you don’t call me I’m going to think you don’t love me anymore,” you warned, getting a blissful smile from her.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” she whispered, looking intently at your eyes through the screen before hanging up and leaving for the appointments scheduled for the day.

--

“Hey baby,” you said into the phone as night had arrived for Sana and she was about to sleep. “No video this time?” you asked. 

The previous days, she couldn’t help but facetime you in order to see you before going to bed.

“Too tired to even hold the phone, love,” she answered, sounding exhausted. You heard the sheets ruffling on the other side as a sign that she was already on her bed and probably about to fall asleep.

“Your voice sounds like you need me there to cuddle you until you drift off,” you suggested, knowing she loved it when you told her what she wanted to hear.

“I do,” she answered in a low whine, “I swear I would have the best sleep of my life with you here in this giant bed”.

“A few more days, pretty girl,” you assured, “when you get here I promise I’m not going to let you go anywhere. I’ll show you how much I’m missing you these days, I miss your lips, your neck, your fingers interlocked in my hair,” your voice turned low as you felt yourself getting carried away.

“Mhm, babe…”

“I think these days have only proved how bad I needed you in my life. Since I met you, love, you’re all I can think about, your smile, your voice, the way you make me feel…”

A long sigh was heard on the other side of the line.

“I’m not lying when I say that you’ve brightened my life, whenever we're together, time seems to stand still, and it's just you and me, lost in our own little world”.

“Y/N…” Sana said in a low whisper.

“The more I get to know you, the more I realize how special you are. Your kindness, your intelligence, your incredible sense of humor—it all just draws me closer to you.”

Sana let out a tiny whimper.

“And now,” you said, overwhelmed by the immense love you feel for Sana, “I feel like I'm falling in love with you, deeply and completely. It's something I've never experienced before, and it scares me a little, but I'm also thrilled that it’s happening with you, with the most amazing girl I’ve ever met…”

You paused for a couple of seconds waiting for an answer from the other side of the line, yet were only met with the ruffling of the sheets and deep sighs.

“Sana, are you still awake?” you asked, a smile on your face thinking about how tired your girlfriend must be and how you took the chance to pour your heart out.

“Y/N…” she replied almost out of breath, her voice filled with a sultry tone and lower than it usually was, “please… keep talking…” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Sana? Are you okay?”

“Y-Y/N…” Sana whimpered, letting out a tiny cry.

A sound that made you understand what was happening on the other side of the line as your face turned completely red. Good thing Sana couldn’t see you or else she would never stop teasing you about it. But at the same time, it was a pity you couldn’t see your girlfriend touching herself to the mere sound of your voice.

“Sana…” you said one more time, this time putting an effort to sound exactly like Sana liked, “there’s nothing I need more right now than my lips traveling your body…”

She left out a low moan.

“My hands caressing your skin as I make my way to where I can worship you the most…”

Sana’s whimpers became more audible.

“I bet you’re really wet right now,” you whispered, gaining a cry from her. “It would be so easy for me to slip a finger in but we know it isn’t enough, right, love?”

“F-fuck, Y/N…”

“I want you to use two fingers as if they were mine,” you continued, “in and out, slowly, to the sound of my voice”.

Sana’s moans were getting higher as she followed your instructions.

“You sound lovely, baby,” you praised, “making those pretty noises for me”.

You knew she was out of breath by the way she was reacting.

“You would sound even lovelier coming for me, pretty thing”.

With a high pitched cry, you heard the sheets ruffling one more time as you imagined she was gripping them riding her orgasm out.

“Y/N, that was…” she started talking for the first time in several minutes. 

“Shh,” you replied, smiling widely, “you must be exhausted by now, baby”.

“I am,” she confessed. “I just wanted to say that all of the things you told me were so beautiful and it made me feel so loved”.

“I love you,” you assured her one more time.

“I love you more, Y/N. More than anything in this life and I can’t wait any longer to be back with you,” she whispered as her eyes slowly closed.

She fell asleep to the sound of your voice telling her how lucky you were for having her in your life.

#twice x f!reader #twice x reader #twice fluff #twice smut #sana x f!reader #sana x reader #sana fluff #sana smut #sana imgine #twice imagine #twice scenario #soulkeeper801

[voyeur-clairvoyant]

SAY WHY

I know that the "baby" witchcraft thing has been falling for a while since Quarantine BUT I still need to remind to the people that teach tarot, charm casting, and divination practices in general THAT YOU NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU DO THE THINGS YOU DO!!

Hhashahsa I think I sound a litle bit too over the top but it really annoys me that a lot of books, tiktoks (I know, just cope with me) and videos in general talk about the tools and rituals but never actually adress the meaning or just assume you will "magically" understand the fuck they are talking about.

Why do we associate the fourth elements to the four suits of a deck? How is it useful? Is it even useful?

It's important because as T.S. Elliot said "Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?". You must read over a cloth, keep a glass of water while you read, know the astrological associations for each card/symbol...

BUT WHY?

People are every day new to this practices and the way we push them aside with our "cryptic & hermetic" knowledge is inadmisible.

And even worse, we inbreed our practices by repeating the same mistakes without analyzing them. I know I bring to table this detail in every post haha, but look what happened to the Wheel of Fortune, absolutely deformed by superficial takes without any deeper study. A lot of superstitions are part of the same problem and they're are never confronted because "it is what it is". Bullshit! Half of them were made by "hermetic societies" that did what they wanted.

How can people teach or explain tarot cards absolutely missing to talk about the medieval allegories and symbols?? About the history?? Practical details like where the symbols come from and why do we use them??

We end up with a bunch of people that knows that the Hanged Man means "wisdom and different perspectives" BUT THEY DO NOT KNOW WHY! They know it just because someone else said it to them and it's not even correct.

#divination #witchcraft #cartomancy #tarot #fortune telling #tarot cards #tarotblr #witchblr #baby witch

[stories-untold]

The plight of the Palestinians (an unfair fight against dehumanisation, and the impact of our activism)

before I start, I want to preface by saying that, I'm not writing about the Palestinian genocide because I find it fascinating in some morbid way, or for any other fucked up reason. I'm writing this because I love to write, and I want to be able to use my love for writing as a means to amplify the Palestinian cause, as everyone should with their talents or hobbies, if possible. (I know no amount of words that I've written here could be enough for the lives we've already lost, so I'll just keep writing until I physically can't anymore. my heart goes out to evey single Palestinian. ) also, my thoughts were a extremely jumbled bc the Palestinian cause is extremely important to me, so I apologise if its not the smoothest read through.*also, I have a public Palestine playlist on tiktok, with over 2000 tiktoks filled with information, ways to help, and every gofundme that I come across, and I would be an idiot to not use this post as a way to ask you to check it out (my username on tiktok angelwingsdotcom, no need to follow me just save the playlist) thank you, and free Palestine 🇵🇸‼️*

there's a very depressing pattern that's hard to miss while watching the Palestinians displaced within Gaza as well as their families outside of the country ask people to donate to their gofundmes or PayPal accounts, and it speaks to a much larger issue. they must always try to convince the viewer that they to, are worthy of living a normal life, through self humanisation as a direct pushback to dehumanisation that they face by the hour. they speak of the ages of their youngest children, the ailments and disabilities of their family members, and talk of their hobbies, jobs and likes and dislikes, and it serves as a reminder. a reminder that they are all human, as are we, the ones on the other side of the screen, safely away from the carnage that they face at the hands of the "Israeli" offense force. I find myself being disgusted at the world that they need to do this, use a love for video games, or a 10th birthday missed, or the cries of a newborn baby, to contextualise that this genocide is happening to real people, kind people, undeserving people.

the global pandemic of apathy is currently attempting to bury any sense of solidarity we have amongst each other alive, shovel in its bloody hands. the amount of people who vehemently refuse to boycott any brand, with a shrug of their shoulders and a swift "I have my own problems, and I don't live there so." stands between the space of distressing, delusional, and blood curdling. since when did the metric for whether or not you should care about the ethnic cleaning of a people, depend on your proximity to them? how can any living, breathing, feeling person watch on and see the corpses of lives that we will never be able to get back even if a ceasefire is called tomorrow, and decide to simply not care? I ask these questions rhetorically, because I don't want to hear anything from someone who does not care about the lives of others.

sustenance of the self is extremely important, that is something I acknowledge, but the acts that one can undertake in order to support the Palestinian cause are so simple, that they should not incite so much defensiveness from those who have their own internal issues. all it takes is a repost here, a comment or a follow, lending and an eye and an ear to bare witness to the atrocities that Palestinians are being subjected to the IOF and the billions given to them by the USA (a country which had many issues of its own, none that will be fixed by the relocation of money to an active genocide), boycotting pressure targets and finding alternatives of which there are plenty. all these acts culminate towards the eventual true freedom of Palestinians, and yet, people refuse. individual efforts are deemed useless, and people are able to comfort themselves in their apathy through the belief that their efforts would nevertheless be in vain. but that could not be further from the truth.

its incredibly easy to feel useless when watching the violence being inflicted by isnotreali murderers posing as soldiers on Palestinians in real time, but I want to remind you that each little action you take helps. I remember a few months ago, my brother asked what I thought I was doing by boycotting McDonalds when almost no else in the country is, and my answer was simple. I don't care what others do, I know what and who I care about, and I care about Palestinians, and they asked me to boycott, so I will. and my boycotting, however small it is on an individual scale, is made so much more impactful by people who similar beliefs, thus making my boycott significant through unity. and that is the one weapon we can wield against our oppressors, togetherness. they try to convince that you can't do it alone, and the truth of the matter is that you can't. but you're not doing it alone. I'm just a girl living in South Africa, and you're probably somewhere else in the world, and yet, your and my efforts mixed with everyone around the world, will incite change, do not be discouraged or manipulated into believing that you are not helping, because you are, no matter how small your effort may feel.

if your individual effort truly didn't matter, then zionist would simply turn the other way, and yet, they consistently parrot each other "boycotts don't do anything" "reposting a video isn't gonna help anyone" but they know the power of people standing together. they use it too, flocking to pro Palestine posts and floding the comments with the same falsified information and zionist rethoric, and if they can he united in their hate, then surely we can do the same. so keep posting, keep commenting and sharing, keep donating, and keep your eyes on Palestine, because you mean so much more to the people currently in gaza than you could ever know.

the goal of zionism is not to get people to hate Palestinians or Arabs, the end goal is disinterest. they want people to hold their tears and roll their eyes when they hear the cries of a Palestinian baby, and the current generation is already so uncaring even with no ties to zionism. its disgusting, and the attitude of "what can I do?" only works to aid the zionist agenda. its especially disheartening to Palestinians displaced within gaza right now, as they only have us to count on. they've pleaded with us to listen, and given us simple instructions, it is truly the humane thing to do to follow them. my fyp is almost exclusively Palestinian informational videos, updates, and gofundmes, and that's thanks to my personalised algorithm. but if I were to take this very platform as an example, 3 or 4 months ago, Palestine was first on trending, but now it isn't even in the top ten. people are losing interest, and it's heartbreaking.

people are even going as far as to defend others for not using their platforms to speak on the Palestinian genocide and its truly mind-boggling to witness. they deflect by asking why we put pressure on influencers and celebrities instead of politicians, but I can't help but wonder, since when were the two mutually exclusive? I've seen countless videos of protesters interrupting politicians during events and calling them out for not only being complicit in genocide, but actively defending and funding it. we can do both, and I refuse to be shamed for expecting people who have large audiences to do the right thing, the humane thing, and speak on the genocide of Palestinians. if anything, all the celebrities and influencers staying silent, whether it be for money or to keep their status within the entertainment industry, or simply because they couldn't be bothered to care, they should be ashamed.

it's obviously impossible and frankly unhealthy to be consuming the harrowing updates and videos of corpses run over by IOF tanks, the bodies of starved babies, and the blood in the hands of parents who cry for the children to wake up, and that's not whats expected of you. find a balance that works for you, that's vital. but completely taking your eyes away from the genocide, muting the word Palestine, and carrying on exactly as you were before the genocide started, isn't the answer. please, use social media to help Palestinians, it's easy, it's effective, and people are counting on you.

Palestine will be free, and having a small hand in their eventual freedom, is worth so much more than fame, or money, or a big mac, or coffee. even in the midst of a genocide, Palestinians continue to exhibit a care for others, they help those around them, use the tiktok sounds dedicated to other genocides and crisis around the world, and they always express their gratitude for people donating, liking, commenting and sharing. they show more humanity and kindness than us who are sitting comfortably in our homes, not constantly surrounded by rubble, blood, screams and cries for help, and drones flying above, remnants of what once was. they deserve to live, and we should not need convincing of that irrefutable fact. I am not in proximity to Palestine location wise, I'm not Palestinian, or Muslim, or Arab. but I don't need to be, and neither do you.

Free Palestine.

#palestine #free palestine #free gaza #palestinians #free palestine 🇵🇸 #i stand with palestine 🇵🇸 #from the river to the sea 🇵🇸 #free gaza 🇵🇸 #فلسطين 🇵🇸 #free 🍉 #palestine 🍉 #watermelon 🍉 #🍉 #donations #gofundme #free #motaz #essay #essay writing #united nations #tiktok #writers on tumblr #disney #mcdonalds #starbucks #pizza hut #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #gaza

[callmewrinkles3]

May 2022

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

CC: [email protected]

Hi Emmy,

This is desperate to try get in touch but I’m pretending you’re gonna read this. I know you’re not reading your texts. Or maybe you blocked me. I don’t even know. I keep leaving voicemails and even insta messages, but nothing. Send up a flare that you’re still ok? Please?

Ever since we met you’ve been the person I trusted with asking any career questions to. I should have listened to you more about the McLaren stuff, but yeah. You’re the most important person in my life and the one I think about when I’m making decisions, but this time you’re not here to say it to. So I want to at least tell you.

I’m retiring at the end of the season. I checked my contract to see if I could go at the summer break but I can’t. So Abu Dhabi’s gonna be my last race. It’s…it’s not fun anymore. Every race is a slog and even tracks I love make me want to go insane. Miami was hell and last weekend felt like the worst time ever. I never thought I’d hate racing in Barcelona. I’ve given this sport everything I can give it and it’s taken more than that and it’s too much. You made me realise that.

I missed too many moments with family and friends, I missed births and deaths and weddings and funerals. You know that better than anyone. This sport meant I couldn’t be with you when you needed me and then I lost you. Its taken absolutely everything and I can’t let it take anything else. There’s nothing else really. It took you. The love of my life and the most important person in my world, and I let you slip through my fingers because of this. So it’s it.

Its not worth the pain anymore. It’s not worth the frustration it’s causing. And it’s never, ever been worth the pain it caused you. That’s the biggest regret I have about all of this, that it hurt you so badly. Plus I can’t do this without you beside me. I’ve no idea how I did it for so many years when you weren’t there but now I just can’t. I can’t do it and I don’t want to learn how to either.

That’s the first part of the plan. I had to tell you first. After Monaco I’m gonna tell Mike and Blake, and then when I tell my parents that you’re gone I’ll tell them then. Don’t blame Michael, he can’t tell them and I figured it deserved more than through FaceTime so I’m flying down. Then during the summer I’ll announce it. Do a video or something.

Then once that’s done I need to find you. I don’t blame you for leaving, Emmy. I can’t blame you because if I was in your shoes I’d have done the exact same thing. I just miss you so fucking much. I miss you every single second of every single day and I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how to stop loving you and even if I did I don’t want to. I want us together, Baby girl. I want to have that life we talked about.

Remember that night in Austin? That girl kept trying to flirt with me and wouldn’t take no for an answer, and then I kissed you in front of her and she finally left? And that night when we were going to sleep you said that you thought Austin would be a place that it’d be nice to show our kids one day. I want that so much it hurts. You were half asleep and so innocent and I realised that’s what I wanted too. I never wanted it before I met you because I never thought settling down was worth it. But it’s not settling with you.

I want you to fight me about finding an apartment in the budget you want, and me to tell you I’m paying because I earn a disgusting amount of money. I want to argue about groceries and who pays which bills and wake up with you in the morning. I want those baths where it’s just us and the world fades away. Falling into your coffee table and the bruises appearing on my shins again. I want all of it. I’m so sorry that I didn’t make you realise that I want you. You’re it for me, Emmy. Nobody else comes close to you.

I want to hold you and tell you that I love you so much. It’s no y’know, right, it’s no pretending. No claiming it’s not romantic. I love you and I want to get to hold your hand in public and tell the world. Say it every single day. I’m so, so sorry for everything that happened between us. Everything I said, everything I did. I should have kissed you when I got out of bed that morning and I should have kissed you when you were going to the airport. I never should have said what I did because I promise you I will never, ever be done with you Baby. Ever.

I’m so sorry for everything I did to hurt us, but please. Let me fix it. If you’re reading this tell me where to go to find you. I’ll go anywhere in this universe to find you, fuck the car and fuck racing and fuck this team. Fuck the people who didn’t respect you because they don’t deserve my or your respect. Tell me where to go and I’ll find you and prove how sorry I am. If you let me I’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. If you love me even a tiny bit please, please tell me where you are. That you’re alive. That we can see you because every single person who knows you keeps asking where you are and how you are and I don’t even know if I can say you’re ok.

I love you so much, Emmy. None of it matters. Not without you. So I’m giving it up because what’s it all for if it’s taken the love of my life away?

All of my love,

Your Danny

#call it what you want fic #ciwyw media

[solitaireships]

Rot Day

So one of the people at my internship talked about having what she called rot days where she just sits in bed all day and watches movies/tv, reads, and plays video games and since hearing about that that has become my greatest unattainable fantasy. Since I can't have that, I'll let Thalia and Cleo have that together. Note that this was all written in like 24 hours on a whim and I didn't edit it, so there might be some typos in there!

Rating: Gen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 989

Divider by emeraldurafreak

“Good morning, Thalia!” 

The cheerful voice of Cleo is startling in the early morning, partially because it’s unusual. As Thalia mumbles, still half asleep in bed, she looks up to see her girlfriend looking far more awake than she usually does at eight in the morning. She’s always exhausted in the morning, practically having to be dragged out of bed by Thalia, but right now she’s looking awake and alert, Sebastian the rat perched on her shoulder looking just as awake. Bundled in Cleo’s arms is Thalia’s laptop, Nintendo Switch, and a couple of trade paperbacks.

“Morning?” Thalia says, more question than a statement as she sits up in bed, eyes blinking to adjust to the newly bright room. “What are you doing so… awake this early?”

“I had an idea for something fun to do today,” Cleo says, as if that explains everything.

“Could I get a clue?” Thalia asks. 

Cleo sits down on the edge of the bed. She sets each of the assorted items in her arms down on the bed, spreading them out in front of Thalia. “We’re going to do a rot day.”

“Cleo, baby, that does not help me understand what you’re talking about.”

“Okay.” Cleo fully climbs into bed now, pulling the white and teal quilt onto her lap as she settles next to Thalia. “The idea is that we just sit here and do nothing. Well, not nothing, but the fun kind of nothing. Watch movies, play games, you can do some reading and writing and that kind of thing. It will be a good time for you to get to relax.”

Thalia can’t help but give a small smile at Cleo being thoughtful enough to suggest something like this. She knows that it’s easy for her to get lost in the bustle of life. Thalia always likes having something to do, always likes to be working and feeling like she’s doing something that helps others. 

But her work is exhausting. She loves being a counselor, but empathy fatigue is something that she’s been dealing with more and more. And despite that, it’s hard for her to take a break. Thalia can’t blame that on her work, though, that’s instead the result of some long running anxiety issues that she’s never addressed, always preferring to talk about others’ feelings and problems than her own. Self-care has never been a strong suit of hers, and as tempting as a day of just staying in bed doing nothing sounds, even her half awake brain searches for reasons not to do it.

“I don’t know if I should be taking a day off like this,” Thalia says. She reaches over to get her glasses from the nightstand, putting them on. 

“Why not?” Cleo questions, head tilting to the side. “You’re already not working today, it’s Saturday.”

“Just because I’m not at work doesn’t mean I don’t have things to do.”

“And are any of them ones you need to do right away?”

They aren’t, but Thalia doesn’t want to say that. “Well, even beyond that, literally staying in bed all day isn’t possible. We’d have to get up to, like, make dinner and stuff. And I need to get coffee in a bit or my head is gonna feel like it’s about to explode.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the coffee, I already got it started for you,” Cleo promises. “Rot day can start after you get your coffee. And we can always order food and I can ask Sebastian and the other rats to bring it to us.”

“I don’t want rats handling our food.”

Sebastian makes a noise that can only be described as sounding offended, hopping down from Cleo’s shoulder to Thalia’s lap. He looks up at her with his big black eyes, and it’s hard to resist him when he’s so obnoxiously adorable with his little backpack strapped to him. 

Thalia reaches down to pet him, her fingers tracing against his soft fur. “I’m sorry, buddy, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Sebastian responds with a chattering noise, rubbing his head against her hand in a way she assumes means he accepts her apology. 

“But I still don’t know if we should have this… rot day thing. Rotting’s not exactly a good thing that people should want to be doing,” Thalia objects.

“We can come up with a new name,” Cleo promises. 

“Cleo.”

“What? What if I wanted you to stay in bed with me all day?” Cleo asks. “I’m tired. I want my girlfriend to stay with me and keep me company.”

Thalia knows exactly what she’s doing. Cleo knows that Thalia doesn’t like doing things for herself, but she does like doing them for other people. And while Thalia knows that this is just her saying something to try to convince her to take a break, she can’t force herself to say no to something that would make Cleo happy. 

Thalia can never resist Cleo. And, if she were more honest with herself, she could admit that staying in bed with her all day sounds like a dream come true. It’s been a long time since she’s done anything fun, anything just for herself. She’s always too exhausted to do anything but mindlessly scroll through social media, only half paying attention to anything she’s watched. 

But this could be a good thing for her. A chance to reset, and to enjoy some time with her girlfriend.

“Okay,” Thalia relents.

“Okay?” Cleo repeats, a smile on her face as she leans closer to Thalia.

“But we’re not going to order food for the rats to bring to us. We can put a pause on the rotting to go get stuff,” Thalia says. 

Cleo presses a quick kiss to Thalia’s cheek. “Okay. Thank you, pretty girl.”

Thalia “hmm”s in response. But as she settles into bed, she thinks that a day off like this may be just what she needs.

#f/o community #selfship #selfship fic #safeship #🐀 total catch #🐀 #💭 thalia #my writing #my posts

[leiflitter]

Can we have some pov thoughts from Oliver's family please from the wedding planning/time leading up to the big day. 😘 if you're happy to share!! Also my names Harriet and my friends all me Harry and that is my claim to fame

AYYY i manifest for you being It Girl Harry forever and always

Keeping it fast n loose as ever

Paula- her baby boy is getting married! She has had a little chat with Father Davies once the initial Felix Shock passed; there was a little worrying about Oliver's immortal soul, but she's a very trusting person, and Father Davies is very chill. "You don't love Oliver any less, so neither does The Big Man Upstairs." That was enough for her.

She is absolutely a nuisance at Saltburn, because she cannot STOP DOING THINGS. Traditional British mum, and she keeps interrupting Oliver and Felix trying to get five minutes alone. "Oliver, love, do you or Felix want a snack?" "Felix, dear, I'm a bit lost- would you mind reminding me where my room is?"

Jeff- he still does not Get It but if Oliver's happy then that's fine. He has absolutely gotten into a few spats with his mates when he mentioned Our Oliver's getting hitched in the pub. Mostly because Oliver is marrying some posh wanker, which Jeff takes great offence to. Especially as Felix has been a stand up bloke and paid for the girls to go off to London to get fancy dresses, and has been very enthusiastic about Oliver's family bringing some friends down if they want.

He has been trying to give Felix a Fatherly Talk about hurting Oliver, except he's still kinda using the speech he prepared for his daughters, so it always ends up a bit confused.

Jess/Hannah- They are mostly confused about how on earth Oliver snagged this man. They're a good 7/9 years older than him, so they were always a unit and he was the accessory dork- and by the time he wasn't just an annoying baby they were pretty much grown ups.

They're actually enjoying getting to know him as an adult, and there's a bit of Older Sibling Guilt going on.

Also, a chance to get dressed up and get drunk? Awesome.

The Niblings-

They are all absolutely stoked. Oliver has always just been like... a card at birthdays and a tenner at Christmas, so now he's suddenly cool??? Awesome

Saltburn is a dream, the Cattonlets are just effortlessly NICE. The girls are already a Squad because of insta.

Ru and Connor have a fight when Connor says something rude- they're playing video games and the trashtalking starts fun but gets a bit TOO rough. It actually bonds them a bit, though, because Ru is actually tough as nails even though he's quiet. An abrupt diversion from being a bit of a Fifa Lad for Connor, tbh.

#leiflitter answers #you're almost home #YAH!spoilers #YAH!asks #YAH!posting

[koskela-knights]

I’m trying to make my own AW2 playlist of chapter ending songs—do you have any recommendations? Feel like we’re similarly obsessed with the spiral…

Thnx for your question! And well yeah I might be a bit obsessed with the spiral/loops and its endless possibilities & scenarios that could've been 👀

Besides the official ending songs the game already provides, there are some other songs that give me general AW/AW2 vibes or specific feels for certain characters! I've been pondering about songs to share for a while, so this is a great opportunity! Thnx again for the ask!

Also feel free to share your own songs in my inbox if you feel like it :D

It's gonna be a long post so buckle up 😅

This is the moment to share my love for Lord Huron, specifically their Strange Trails album but also Vide Noir one.

Strange Trails is, to me, an album about being lost and cursed and it's about love. Honestly, I don't think The Night We Met is a good representative about the entire album.

Meet Me In The Woods

This entire song just screams Alan Wake to me.

I took a little journey to the unknown, And I come back changed. I can feel it in my bones. I fucked with forces that our eyes can't see. Now the darkness got a hold on me.

(...)

How long, baby, have I been away? Oh, it feels like ages though you say it's only days. There ain't language for the things I've seen. And the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams.

(...)

I have seen what the darkness does. Said goodbye to who I was. I ain't never been away so long. Don't look back them days are gone. Follow me into the endless night. I can bring your fears to life. Show me yours and I'll show you mine. Meet me in the woods tonight.

Like, how can you read those lyrics and not think about our boy Alan.

2. Way Out There

Drifting in a land time forgot If you think that I've changed, you know me not I belong bodily to the earth I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first I been unraveling since my birth

Those lyrics and partially the song in general remind me of Alan in the Dark Place trying to escape. How many loops has he been through? (Thus in this context, kind of wearing 'old bones from those who came first, aka older iterations of Alan himself) Also, the theremin they use is so fitting and it's an instrument often used in horror movies so <3

3. Vide Noir (both album itself & song)

Where can you go when it’s all in your head? These are the last words that I ever said Where can you go when it’s all in your head? These are the last words that I ever said

Tbh, this album also gives off major Control vibes with its themes and songs about the Astral plane & the black void. Many other songs on the album talk about the main character getting lost and drifting in-between time/space and living/dying

4. War by Poets of the Fall

You might be familiar with the song already and its music video 👀

I like how all the Poets were involved in the video as Taken (have you seen BTS shots of Olli with a fake beard?!!) Anyways, the song makes me think of how Alan has to remember that there are people out there who want to help him. That there are people out there fighting against the Darkness, even if he is mainly unaware and might even feel he doesn't deserve external help. It also reflects Alice being Alan's bright light in the darkness, and the reason he wants to keep fighting to get back to her.

In a similar vein, Lust For Life (also PoTF haha) this song could also be seen through an Alan/Alice lens, the shared shoebox mechanic and Alice trying to help/guide Alan back to the real world.

What is lost may be found Safe and sound

5. Hello Cabaret by PoTF

Now this song is maybe one of my faves of the Ghostlight album. Relistening to my fave lyrics of the song, it reminds me of the Koskelas and Ilmo specifically.

For when you come calling Dancing on my grave For all my choices made Judging me for how I played The hand you dealt me Stains the blood that flows

(...)

Of all I once did love but lost Nothing comes without a cost The wise fool said that's just the way it goes

(...)

Most will never comprehend Till' they're in the very predicament

To me, Ilmo at the end of the game is heartbroken and dead inside now that his other/better half is gone. The 'you' in question here might as well be the player or Scratch/Alan and he feels judged by the narrative of his previous actions. He's made decisions and sacrifices and used the Cult as a palpable 'villain' for the greater good. Something many probably didn't/wouldn't understand unless they were in his shoes.

6. Chasing Echoes by PoTF

It's a fun coincidence that in AW2 you have literal Echoes to chase huh.

Is this a role or disguise seeking mercy in creation? Just another device or truly a time when we will rise? Oh one and all, to the occasion And bridge the gap to see the other side?

The more on-the-nose/literal meaning aside, I think this song can be read as another one about Alan trying to escape the DP/spiral upwards toward ascension. Again, there's a 'you' in this song that could be interpreted as Alice who is a light inside Alan's darkness.

7. Brother by Lord Huron

How long have I known you, brother? Hundreds of lives, thousands of years How many miles have we wandered Under the sky, chasing our fear? Considering the spiral and the historical background of the Koskelas and their (indirect) ties to the Huotaris, they might as well known each other/been brothers for longer than what we see in-game. Some kind of trouble is coming Don't know when, don't know what I will stand by you, brother 'Til the daylight comes or I'm dead and gone

(...)

I know we can't stop what's coming But I will try, oh how I'll try Will you fight with me, brother One last time, one last fight

We know Ilmo got visited by the Dark Presence and has had nightmares about killing Jaakko. Luckily, he rose above that (as far as we know) but I think the dread and fear of losing Jaakko keeps lingering just underneath the surface. Personally, I enjoy the thought of people sometimes remembering the previous loop/spiral and that those affected/remembering would try anything to keep the loop from repeating.

8. You Belong To Me by Cat Pierce

If you're a fan of Alan/Scratch, this song has that obsessive/possessive vibe to it that seems to be a dialogue/mix between them.

I've heard allegations 'bout your reputation I'll show you my shadows if you show yours Let's get it right dear, give a good fight dear We'll keep it all up behind closed doors

(...)

I must confess to you, I want to possess you Feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling Just say that you belong to me I could get lost in the feelings we're feeling Just say that you belong to me

#anon ask #alan wake 2 spoilers #alan wake 2 #alan wake #alice wake #TLDR: Lord Huron Strange Trails/Vide Noire albums and PoTF's Ghostlight album <333 #koskela brothers #ilmo koskela #jaakko koskela #my posts #my ramblings #songs I listen to for years now and always like to reassign to the fandom at hand

[stthdr]

Don't Cry (Gareth x F reader)

A/n: Hi this was a request from my tiktok pls enjoy I'm not proff reading sorry Gareth and the reader are dating in this fanfic

Warning: Harmful things being said, cussing,weight comments,mainly just fluff and comfort though

Summary: Jason says some pretty harmful stuff to y/n and Gareth just wants to comfort you

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

Y/n pov

"You're such a freak I can't believe me and you ever had a thing for each other" Jason says to me backing me in a corner like always I just want to leave I feel tears coming to my eyes I try to say something to Jason but every time I do he says something else that hurts me "You would look better if you lost some weight" I heard Jason say that and I broke weight has always been my biggest insecurity even though on the out side people say I look fine on the inside I think I look terrible "Fuck you Jason" I said in a pretty quite voice as I push him out the way making him stumble a bit and I run out the extra classroom we were in and I went to the one place I knew I would be safe even if I didn't want to bother them I knew they would help me

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

Gareths pov

Me and the club were planing our next campaign when I hear someone come through the club room doors I look up to see who it was only to make eye contact with my girlfriend the person I love most crying her eyes out "What the fuck happened" I said a little louder then intended of course getting pissed off because I hate seeing her cry I get up argently to see what happens when I get to the crying girl I gently grab her face to look to see if there were any cuts or bruises like she was in a fight there was a slight bruise still healing from the other night when she fell off the bed from laughing so hard and hit her head "Jason-" that's all I hear her say before I hear Eddie say "What the fuck did he do to you" as I hear him come closer I keep looking at my loved ones face wishing to take her pain away I hated Jason for making her feel like this it's always his fault "He said more things about me and said I would look prettier if I lost weight" as I hear you/n say that my heart shatters in anger and pain for her I was going to get Jason back for him thinking he can get away with saying that shit but right now I have to deal with his mess " Baby you are perfect please don't let that dipshit that plays with balls tell you anything different" I say trying to crack a joke and cheer her up as I walk her away from the door to sit down in front of a wall and hold her close as she cried quitely into my chest I hated hearing the way her sobs got quieter in my chest like she didn't want to disturb me by crying

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

Y/n pov

I can't stop the tears coming out of my eyes I hate crying in front of people especially my boyfriend and the hellfire club they are all like my family so I know it hurts them to see me cry especially Gareth he hates seeing me cry but they way he comforts me is so amazing he calms me down so quickly normally just him holding is making me sobs grow quieter and my breathing become steady again "Hey do you wanna stay for the rest of the campaign planning were probably about done anyway" I hear gareths soothing voice say it makes me feel so safe "yea I would like that" I say so quietly I'm sure Gareth struggled hearing me "alright come on" Gareth says as he slowly gets up at the same time as me and he walks me over to his chair he let's me sit on his lap with me kinda stratiling him my face , facing him I listen to the boys talk about the next campaign when they finish Gareth asks me if I wanted to stay at his house for tonight I of course say yes because I love staying with him "Let's stop by and get some movies and snacks" Gareth says on the way to family video when we get there we see Robin and Steve like always we talk for a bit after picking out a few horror movies and snacks from the gas station next door on the way home I hear Gareth mumble to himself "did you say something" I ask generally curious of what he said "I'm swear I'm gonna kill Jason one day God I hate him so much who the fuck does he think he is" Gareth says that in a somewhat sarcastic but at the same time really serious way I knew he ment it because he really hates Jason especially since the whole body shameing me thing "Gareth really it's fine- " it's not fine he needs to learn he can't just talk to my girl any way he wants" I couldn't even finish before Gareth said that in a very angry tone as he pulled into his drive way " come on Gareth the great don't get to riled up " I say jokingly getting out the car I could tell he loved when I called him that and he generally enjoyed the nicknames I have for him

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

Gareth pov

I get out the car my face a bit red because I love the nickname y/n called me I grab the bag as I close the door I unlock the front door opening it for y/n I say hey to my mom and little sister sitting and the couch "Hey Y/n " Hayley my sister says getting up from the couch to hug Y/n god I love their relationship it's so cute that my sister love my girlfriend just as much as me "Hey Hayley I got you a chocolate bar" I hand y/n the bag when I hear that Hayley grabs the chocolate bar says thanks and runs off "You to have fun" I hear my mom say laughing as we go upstairs to my room luckily y/n didn't hear it I don't think god my moms embarrassing " Hey what movie do you wanna watch first " I say pulling the 3 movies we rented out the bag "how about the outsiders" she says going through my closet trying to find her favorite shirt to steal like always "Fine but you can't keep stealing my shirts I won't have anything to wear if you do" I say putting the movie in the thing "I'll give it back" I turn around to her in one of my Mettalica shirts "I take back what a said they look better on you" I said really meaning it "thanks I think you look better shirtless" she says making my face turn bright red "come on your gonna miss the beginning of the movie " I said getting comfy in bed I get comfy laying down only for y/n to come lay on top of me and cuddle me like a teddy bear "god I love you" I accidentally say out loud and I only realize when I look down for see y/n red faced starring back at me "sorry I don't mean to say that out-" "I love you to my pretty drummer boy" I can't even finish what I was saying before she kissed me I may hate Jason and hate when y/n crys but I will always love these nights

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

A/n: HOPE YOU ENJOY SORRY I'M BEING LAZY AND NOT WRITING STORIES OR UPDATEING ON TIKTOK I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN 50 SOMETHING HOURS BUT I'LL BE FINE

#Gareth #gareth emerson is fine asf #stranger things #stranger things fandom #strangerthings season 4 #minor character appreciation #gareth Emerson love and appreciation #i love gareth emerson

[titleknown]

...I could probably hyper-intelectualize it, but ultimately on an emotional level I feel really sick of threads like this and with similar sentiments because I'm really sick of people taking leftism's promise of a better; freer world for everyone and strangling it.

Like, it feels like the argument is "it's either put a resource bottleneck on science; technology; art and even the food you like even worse than under capitalism, or we keep doing child slavery and sweatshops and imperialism. Those are your only two choices"

And when you rankle at what would be lost due to the resource bottleneck, they say "Well, that's just capitalist alienation talking, what you like now is just a substitute for what you'd have under our system,"

As if fucking whittling and potlucks are a one-to-one substitute for video games or online conversation. As if any tool or artistic medium they don't personally get any use-value or joy out of is just a toy for spoiled Westerners.

I do not see how people who've seen artforms constantly wither and end up in a state of near death due to resource starvation think of that sort of resource bottleneck as liberatory; whether it be the independent websites after everyone lost their disposable income post-'08 crash and everyone fucking flocked to smartphones and social media, practical effects after CGI steamrollered them, 2d animation after CGI also steamrollered them, or basically any genre that fell out of fashion that's near and dear to you.

Whether it's a capitalist world and its money or an ecosocialist world and its resource caps, bottlenecks that starve creation will always still fucking suck! And I'm so fucking sick of being force fed that they don't, or that they're inevitable because apparently horizontal moves in how we do things can't exist!

And then whenever somebody tries to come up with other choices, or even just a means of preventing the losses they speak of in the transition to a more just world; they find another way to say that not only are those other choices bad, but trying to come up with them is a selfish brat who's just going to create more child slavery and sweatshops and imperialism!

See also: Any fucking conversation on here ever about any fucking emergent technology ever.

Like, this is a post off the cuff, from the gut, take it as you will, but it's just fucking exhausting in a time where everything's going to shit that a lot of people professing the one ideology that's supposed to give hope are going "No actually, things need to be shit in our ideal world for true justice too" and following with "Well, I'm fine with it, if you're not, then you're just a selfish baby"

And it makes this broken; shitty world feel that much more hopeless, because you're stuck between the "resource bottleneck" and "Child slavery, sweatshops and imperialism" sides, both have a vision of your world getting smaller and more constrained, and you get the feeling that your life in the future is going to suck no matter what!

#vent post #may delete later

[aaronsrpgs]

On Finishing Lost in 2023, In an Alternate USA From the One Oceanic Flight 815 Was Headed Toward

I started watching Lost with a very treasured friend on August 6, 2022. She'd seen it multiple times before, including when it was first airing; she'd even gone to Hawaii and experienced a "Lost tour" where she got to see the sets.

I'd seen half an episode while drunk circa 2008 and knew there was a smoke monster, time travel, and a despised final season.

Watching the show with my friend was a great social experience, and the social experience seems like it'll continue as I encounter other people who have seen it. And I liked the show okay! Like, a solid B. I give the same grade to the final season and the final episode. Which brings some angry responses from some people I've talked to.

Spoilers for Lost below.

FLASHBACK People who watched the show as it aired often went to message boards to discuss theories and to conventions to ask questions of the writers and producers of the show. There is a feeling (from people I've talked to who were there) that promises were made: everything will be explained in the end.

And the show's many mysteries, catalogued on forums and fan sites, were NOT explained (the story goes). And so the show was ruined. END FLASHBACK

Before going any further, it might help to watch this video essay, "Annihilation and Decoding Metaphor" by Folding Ideas. Basically, he explains that some stories are metaphorical, and as such, they don't always make literal sense. (I'm doing the essay a disservice explaining it that way; go watch it if you have time.)

Lost works best when viewed this way, as a metaphor, and I was lucky to experience without the paratext of message boards, creator commentaries, and an enforced weekly timeslot across six years.

So what are the themes of Lost, and how does it use its components to explore those themes?

First, Lost is a Robinsonade. Like Robinson Crusoe, it puts a bunch of people on a (seemingly) deserted island to see what they do. Key to most Robinsonades are:

What do we bring with us (personal, material, and cultural)?

What do we leave behind (personal, material, and cultural)?

And from those questions, how do the enforced scarcities (lack of food, water, infrastructure, human company and social structures) keep us from building our idealized form of society away from the world? And how do our internalized notions of what society should be keep from enjoying a potential Eden?

Before it gets tied in to any metaplot about the history of the island and the other people on it, Lost is a cast of people who are deeply traumatized, usually by fathers, wealth, and a mix of the two.

John Locke is directly traumatized by his father, who is responsible for him being in a wheelchair. Jack is trying to please his hyper-competent, also-alcoholic father who is now dead, making him impossible to please. Kate's stepfather is abusive, and her real father is gone. Sun's father is a wealthy businessman/gangster who also holds sway over Jin (who has the only nice dad). Hugo's dad disappeared and only comes back when Hugo wins the lottery decades later. Desmond is in love with a woman whose dad thinks he isn't good enough. Charlie and his brother get too famous too fast in a band inspired by their patriarchal heritage. Michael is himself a dad, and often a bad one (an example of the show's ongoing bad portrayal of people of color). Boone and Shannon are part of a fucked up family. Claire's dad is missing, as is the father of the baby she carries. Woof!

(Sayid is the only one seemingly free of hangups about wealth and dads. This often frees him from the rest of the group's hangups, letting him solve problems that no one else could. He is instead traumatized by war and his role as a torturer; no one gets off scot free in a soap opera.)

And while the show initially seems interested in some of the material scarcities of living on an island (food, medicine, water), all of this is ameliorated by the start of season two, with mysterious shipments of food and a hatch full of living supplies. Lost is clearly more interested in the personal and cultural hangups of a Robinsinade, only occasionally using material scarcity to heighten those personal issues. This isn't a show about creating new foodways for a post-capitalist world. It's about fucked up people who may or may not want to become less fucked up.

So let's talk about that! Lost's island is magic. It heals the sick (John Locke and Rose prime among them), giving them another chance at life. It's also unstuck in space and time, and there are forces at work that keep people from leaving. So even if you don't want another chance at life, you're FORCED to try. You can't get home, back to the systems you're used to, so you either have to try something new or constantly work against the people who are building something on the island.

The people who have the hardest time with this are Sawyer and Jack. Sawyer, despite seeming like a rebel, is entrenched in his life as a con man, a life he initially pursued for personal vengeance. But now he's done it so long, he doesn't know how to do anything else. And Jack has spent so long trying to please his doctor father by becoming a perfect doctor himself, through constant discipline and eschewing personal relations, that he can't do anything else on the island; he seizes control and tries to be perfect at everything.

But the island is unrelenting at its insistence that you try again to become a better person. There is something at its core ("negatively charged exotic matter") that produces all these strange effects. A group of people, the Others, have been on the island guarding for thousands of years at the instruction of Jacob, who inherited guardianship from a strange and violent woman. He follows the tradition she sat down without question. She's kind of a dad in that way.

So here are a bunch of people fucked up by capitalism and the patriarchy. John Locke had offered his trust over and over back in the old world, and he always came out worse for wear (betrayed, eviscerated, paralyzed), but he is resilient enough to keep trusting. He wants everyone to live a beautiful life on the island. (He gets betrayed and killed for his efforts. More on that later.)

People being people, though, they continue to fuck up their new chances at life. They steal, murder, and betray. They break promises. That's one constant in Lost: whenever anyone takes a moral stand, they inevitably change their mind. When two sides are formed in opposition, the boundaries are always permeable, and people go back and forth. The characters are weirdly realistic that way, and they resist becoming metaphors; they're slippery.

Even the Others, promised to protect the magic and sanctity of the island, fuck up. Benjamin Linus, the man in charge (and son of a bad dad, and bad dad in his own right) is a weird hybrid of islander (believer in the power of the island) and outsider (wanting to harness the island). Even with everyone changing their minds constantly, he manages to switch sides the most. And the victim of this is John Locke, who decided to trust Ben just like he tried to trust everyone else.

John Locke was the person who most embodied the possibilities of Robinsonade, who had a new chance at life and wanted to give that gift to everyone else. But Benjamin Linus was too tainted by scarcity: if someone else got what the island promised, that meant he couldn't have it. He split the force that was so huge as to be unsplittable.

So when everyone's ruining the possibilities of a Robinsinade, insisting on returning to their own lives or bringing the worst parts of the world to the island, the island gives them another chance. It sends people back in time. It gives them more understanding of its possible powers. It shows them life back home so that they'll be ready to try the island again.

And then Lost shows us its foundation. It shows us Jacob and his unnamed brother, indoctrinated by a murdering woman who is as unwilling to share the island's power as Ben is. The unnamed brother seems clever, and he seems ready to learn how to share the island's power to free people from scarcity and tradition. And the murdering mother seems to see him as an end to her own trauma. But Jacob, who lacks creativity, gets jealous and throws the nameless brother into the negatively charged exotic matter (which we never see; we only see light).

Lostopedia says the brother becomes the smoke monster, an evil force that longs to escape the island, which Jacob insists will bring evil to the world. But it seems more like Jacob released the smoke monster or created it by committing an evil act, insisting that the island's power can't be shared, and using it to limit life instead of freeing it. The nameless brother dies. The smoke monster persists. This smoke monster goes on to influence Ben, who feels the same way about the island's power.

People are so fucked up, right?

And eventually, aggressively confident Jack becomes the new Jacob. He inherits the traditions that Jacob hands down and tries to do the same things Jacob does. But in the end, perhaps influenced by all the chances he's had at remaking his life alongside influences from John Locke and his other fellow castaways, he sacrifices himself to save the island, and he names Hurley as his successor.

At this point, Hurley is the only non-white member of the main cast who hasn't died. He's similar to John Locke in that he's trusting of people and sees the good in them, but he also had his life literally destroyed by wealth and fame. And now he's in charge of the island's power.

(Jack had to sacrifice himself because the island's power/light was uncorked by Desmond, who thought he would be "sent somewhere else" by doing so. Desmond, you shouldn't be somewhere else! You should be on the island building a new life! You abused the island's power. But like everyone else, you get another chance.)

The final season, instead of flashing back like most of the show, flashed "sideways." At first, it seemed like a parallel universe where everyone's life was different, less traumatic, from the start. In the finale, this is revealed to be a kind of purgatory where everyone went after they died. Another chance to get it right. Things are better than the main plot of the show, but things are still bad! But they get to find each other here without the trauma of crashing on an island, without going to war with the Others, and in doing so, they gain the benefit of those situations without causing those problems. And when they find each other, they get to move on into more yellow light. Maybe to a more permanent resting place, but probably to another iteration, where they try again with a bit more experience, a bit more help, and a lot less taint of capitalism and bad dads.

Some other random thoughts: we get to see Hurley in charge of the island in the epilogue, and he's not following the same rules. He isn't out preaching the power of the island, but people are a bit more free to come and go. Folks can get acclimated to the possibility of freedom, little vaccine boosters of freedom and magic against the ongoing diseases of society.

And what about the unsolved mysteries? The numbers?! I don't know. If we believe a series of numbers is important, we make note of them everywhere. We assign meaning to their repetition. But there are only ten numbers. Of course we see them everywhere. And each time we see them, we bring new meaning to them. Another chance to see ourselves. Another chance to get it right.

Or at least that's the meaning I brought to the show in 2023, when freedom from capitalism and bad dads feels both impossible and closer than it ever was.

#lost #tv

[banannabethchase]

You and Your Fantasy - also on AO3

~

Claudio won at Uno, Breeze isn't happy about it, and they almost let their secret out.

~

Title from Brat by Chrissy Chlapecka.

~

Breeze’s entire body is reacting to the lemon, shivering and wincing.

“Breeze looks miserable!” Claudio laughs. He’s literally crying, tears running down his face. “Oh, this is the best win of my life!”

“Shut up, Swiss!” Breeze snaps. He dives back in and bites a chunk out of the lemon, unable to fight the shiver again. “Fuck!”

“Language,” Woods says, lemon juice and pulp dripping into his beard. Gross.

“We don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Cole says. “We’re independent, baby.”

“It’s my channel, either way,” Breeze says, glaring down at the lemon rind. It’s probably mocking him. “I’ll take the hit of the ad revenue, I don’t give a shit.” He yells. “Fuck!” It’s too loud.

Swiss’s eyes widen just a little. “Wow, Breeze,” he says, recovering in a second. “I think that echoed into my audio.”

“I thought you screamed, too,” Woods said. “Like, with your mouth closed.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Cole says, still looking like his face is rearranged wrong from the lemon. “Oh, god, that was horrible. I hate lemons. Can we go back to singing?”

“See, that will get us taken down.” Breeze chugs a glass of water and finally settles. “No music. Unless it’s that royalty free stuff.”

“The Bucks have some in their videos,” Cole says. “We should see if they have any ideas.”

“We sure as hell shouldn’t,” Breeze scoffs. “I’m not talking to either of them ever again.”

“Calm down, Breeze,” Claudio says. “We all know you hate it when somebody is more whiny than you are.”

“I am cutting all of this out of the video.” He turns to the camera. “Hi, hello, I lost, everything sucks, and I hate my friends. Friends, say goodbye so I can cut the recording.”

“Goodbye so I can cut the recording!” Claudio says.

Woods and Cole laugh so hard that Breeze has to yell to make sure it’s picked up over the everything else. “Bye!” He cuts the recording. “You all suck and I hate you. I’ll see you guys next week.”

“Love you too, Breezey,” Cole laughs. He cuts the feed.

“Claudio’s right. You really are whiny. Love it, though.” Woods disconnects before Breeze can retort.

And then it’s him and Claudio. He always feels exposed when it’s the two of them, like there’s nothing he can hide.

“So,” Breeze says, desperate to fill the silence.

“So,” Claudio says. “Do you think they caught that we’re in the same house?”

Breeze cuts off the camera and shut his computer down. “No,” Breeze yells up the stairs. “They’re too stupid to figure it out.”

He hears footsteps on the stairs and turns to see six feet a thousand inches of muscle making their way toward him. “You should really be kinder about our friends.” He leans down and kisses Breeze’s forehead.

“If they want me to be kinder, then Chugs should be smarter.”

“You lost, too.” Claudio grabs him by the chin and tilts him up. “You really are in a terrible mood tonight, Tyler.” His smile goes a little darker, a little more interested. “Perhaps you need a reminder of how to be nice.”

Breeze licks his lips before he can stop himself. “I know how to be nice,” he says, and he forgets how to breathe, just a little bit. “They don’t deserve it.”

Claudio’s grip on his chin gets just the tiniest bit tighter. “Tyler,” he murmurs.

“Claudio.” He looks directly in Claudio’s eyes and grins.

“You’re being a bit petulant today,” Claudio says. His fingertips graze down Breeze’s neck. Breeze has all but forgotten how to breathe.

“Today?” he whispers. “Every day. You know how I am.”

“I do.” Claudio’s hand stops at the collar of Breeze’s shirt. He grabs a handful and pulls. Truly, Breeze likes this shirt. He has no choice but to follow. It’ll be years, he thinks, before he gets used to feeling small around Claudio. He looks up. “Hello.”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“I’m always cute.”

Claudio backs him into the wall. “You’re impossible today, darling.”

Breeze shrugs. “I’m always impossible. You’re the one who chooses to do the impossible.”

“That was a horrible joke.”

“You’re the master of terrible jokes,” Breeze replies. “Maybe it’s sexually transmitted bad puns.” He settles his hands on Claudio’s hips. “Maybe it’s your fault.”

“You are really asking to be put in your place, gorgeous,” Claudio murmurs. “You know you don’t have to be so difficult. You could just ask.”

“I have asked,” Breeze says. “You said I wasn’t allowed to give you a hand job during Uno.”

“Of course you can’t!” Claudio laughs. “Why the hell would I allow that when they don’t even know you’ve moved in?”

“I don’t know,” Breeze thinks. “Because it’s hot?”

“If you want me to record us,” Claudio says, “all you have to do is ask.”

Breeze feels his whole body tingle. “Yeah?”

“But not tonight,” Claudio says.

“Why not?!”

“I have no interest in taking the time to set up a camera when I can have you right now.” Claudio leans down and kisses Breeze without any further warning, and Breeze is pretty sure he can feel his knees give out.

Claudio’s desk is upstairs, but they’ve set up Breeze’s in a quiet corner of the living room. Breeze finds himself manhandled over to the desk and bent over.

“Ah, so you can be a good boy,” Claudio chuckles. “Where is that bottle of lube I know you keep hidden around here?”

“I don’t keep it hidden,” Breeze mumbles, but he pulls it out of the drawer. “Not my fault you look good when you’re gone and wrestling and leave me at home.”

Claudio ignores it, presses his hand to the back of Breeze’s neck. “Like a good boy, come now.”

“Like a good boy?!”

“Yes, like,” Claudio says, “since you clearly aren’t.”

Breeze sighs. “You’re a dick.”

“At least I play with a full one.”

Breeze looks over his shoulder. “What?”

“Oh, was that not – you said ‘dick’,” Claudio says. “I thought you were making a joke.”

“No, I was being right,” Breeze says. “Is this all teasing? Are you going to make me wait again?”

“Perhaps,” Claudio says. He slides his hands underneath the waistband of Breeze’s shorts. “Oh.”

“Oh, yeah,” Breeze says. “Didn’t put on underwear today. Figured it was –” He’s cut off by the shorts pulled down.

“I cannot believe,” Claudio says, voice a growl, “you have been teasing to this degree all day.” He palms Breeze’s ass. “I should have known that shower was too long.”

“Well, maybe I wanted to get fucked after the Uno games,” he says, meeting Claudio’s eyes in the reflection of one of his monitors. “Hmm? Ever think of that?”

“I always think of fucking you after our Uno games,” Claudio says. “Give you a consolation prize.”

“Consolation – you stole my hand in that last one!”

“You had one win,” Claudio chides. “You would have had to wait longer if I’d lost, yes?”

“I’ll never answer that.”

“So it’s a yes.” Claudio presses a kiss to the back of Breeze’s neck. “Now, shall we complete your fantasy of getting fucked on your gaming desk now, or would you like to wait.”

“Jesus,” Breeze says, the syllables dragged out of him. “Yeah. C’mon, Swiss, give it to me.”

“You’ll find I am playing with a full dick.”

“I hate you.”

“You certainly do not.”

Breeze expects to have to wait, expects Claudio to drag it out and be an asshole about it, but instead there slight pressure. “Okay, fine, I’ll be nice,” Breeze says before he can stop himself. “Just – okay?”

“Okay, baby,” Claudio murmurs. “You just brace yourself on the desk.”

Breeze does. Claudio works him open fast, merciless, and Breeze would ask him to just fuck him already if he had the ability to speak.

“When you’re not being temperamental, you get what you want, don’t you?” Claudio says.

“Would you just get your dick in me?” Breeze manages.

“You’re so demanding!” Claudio says. He flicks Breeze’s hat off his head.

“Hey!”

“Be good, and maybe you’ll get what you want.”

Breeze groans. “You ask too much of me, Swiss.” Claudio twists his fingers. “Fuck. Okay. Fine. Just – please?” He looks over his shoulders and throws his best pleading look at Claudio. “I’ll shut up.”

“Now, I don’t want you to shut up,” Claudio says, and Breeze arches his back to get a little more annoying, just while he can. “Make all the noise you want, baby.”

“God, finally,” Breeze says. “Okay. Just – let’s hurry it up.”

“There’s no timer on this,” Claudio says. “It’s early. We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow.” He smooths a hand over Breeze’s hip. “I could take my time with you, if I wanted.”

“You could,” Breeze concedes, “but I’d probably lose it, and you want me to be good, so…” He trails off, hoping his logic worked. He’s not even sure if it made sense. He hopes it did.

“You make a fair point, darling,” Claudio says, and he teases with the head of his cock for just the tiniest moment before sliding in.

Breeze opens his mouth to speak, but words have left him with the push of Claudio’s cock inside him and he moans instead.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Claudio says. He rocks slowly. “Brace yourself on the desk, Breeze, come now. I don’t want you to slip.”

Breeze looks up to adjust, to meet Claudio’s sparkling eyes in the monitor. “You have no idea how hot this is,” Breeze manages.

“Yeah?” Claudio asks. “Well, it’s pretty good from my angle of things.” He winks. “Not my best attempt at a pun, but I hope you can forgive me for being otherwise occupied.”

“Oh, I can forgive you,” Breeze says.

Claudio goes quiet, like usual, focused and intent. Breeze takes a few glances in monitor to land on Claudio’s face, his chest, his arms.

“Are you staring at me?”

“Yes,” Breeze replies, “am I not allowed to do that or something?”

“Watch it,” Claudio says.

“If you won’t let me videotape us, then at least let me watch myself get fucked in the reflection,” Breeze says.

“You are impossible.” But Claudio doesn’t stop fucking him, so he considers it a win.

With every slide of Claudio’s cock inside him, Breeze feels it build. He pushes himself up a little more so he can slide a hand around his own dick.

“Claudio,” he teases, “I’m close.”

“I can see that,” Claudio says. “Do you want to come?”

“I – yes.” He forgets to bitch. “I do.”

“Do you think you get to?” Claudio asks. “Do you think you need to?”

Breeze clenches down. “You tell me, big man.”

“Impossible,” Claudio murmurs. “I adore you, you know that?”

He barely gets another stroke in before Breeze is coming. He has half a mind to try and catch it, but he decides to wash his under the desk rug later, damn the consequences. “Fuck, Claudio,” he moans.

“Yes, I do.” He winks at Breeze in the monitor reflection and Breeze pushes back just in time for Claudio to follow in his suit. Breeze feels it, deep, and his eyes flutter and close.  

It’s a few seconds before Claudio pulls out of him, a calming hand on the center of Breeze’s back, steadying him.

“The dick does deliver,” Breeze laughs, out of breath. “Jesus.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one who made a pun,” Claudio sighs. “That feels wrong.”

“Feels pretty good to me.” Breeze drops his head on his forearms. “We should fuck every time you win. You got all intense. I liked it.”

“And when you win? What should we do then?”

Breeze grins, turning around. He pulls up his shorts before there’s too much more of a mess on the floor. “You should blow me under my desk while I play Resident Evil 8 again.”

“I think we could arrange that.”

Claudio leans in and kisses him, sweeter than before, an arm around Breeze’s waist. “Love you.”

“Aw, now you’re all cute!” Breeze says. “Swissman’s a damned romantic, who would have thought.”

“You are awful,” Claudio says, pulling away.

“I love you too, Swiss,” Breeze says, chasing him and shoving his face into Claudio’s neck. “I especially love it when I beat you at Uno, but today is good too.”

“Always a brat,” Claudio says, but it sounds fond.

“Always your brat.”

~

Mini Playlist: Jazzy Uno Theme Brat - Chrissy Chlapecka Hit it from the Back - Kim Petras I Think I'm in Love - Kat Dahlia

#SwissBreeze #ClaudioBreeze #Why do i keep COMING UP WITH FICS FOR CLAUDIO TO WRITE HE'S NOT EVEN MY FAVE #wtf i like wrestling now??? #in which sara writes