#but other people have put that much better than i could

[sonarspace]

sweet syrup, satoru gojo

synopsis: emotions are all over the place when fwb!gojo stands you up… for another girl? content: fluff (kinda). smut (food play, fem!receiving, orgasm, unprotected sex) wc: 3.1k a/n: another fic within 24hrs to make up for my absence :). (not proofread!). this is a result of listening to sesame syrup by cigarettes after sex on repeat.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

your phone chimes with a text from satoru “are you free this week? i’m coming to your city”. to which you reply almost instantly. “yeah, i can make some time.”

he texts back: “no need to cancel any plans. i can work around it. just wanna spend some time with you while i’m here.” making your heart flip.

“i have an event to attend tonight, but can i come over sometime between 2 and 3?” he sends another text.

it’s not really like you had much going on in the week so you decided to say yes. to which he sends a winky face and a see you soon.

it’s almost 2am when you’re done getting ready. it has been a while since you’ve seen each other and while satoru has seen you in all your rawness. you figured it wouldn’t hurt to dress up a bit.

you decide to wear an ocean blue lingerie set (his favorite color) and a sheer white dress over it, leaving nothing to imagination. you hope you can catch him off guard with this look.

you look at the clock and it’s already 2:30am. you decide to send him a text to confirm he’s going to come up or not. it’s not like satoru to stand you up especially on a plan he’s made.

“are we still good for tonight?” you text. but no reply comes through. he did say 3am didn’t he, you think to yourself. maybe he’ll be there by then. you sigh and decide to put on a movie.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and wait a bit longer past 3. but you regret that decision as you are watching instagram stories and see a pic of none other than, satoru gojo in all his glory at the party he said he’d be. an angry pout takes over your lips.

what gets you isn’t the fact that he may still be at the party but who he is with. some model’s lips are pressed to his cheeks – hand hovering over her back and his stupid people winning grin plastered on his face.

posted 20 minutes ago. you inhale deeply, trying to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t even know why you were hurt. after all you were just fuck buddies and nothing more. you suppose it was the anger making you cry.

feeling stupid at even trying to dress him for him, streaks of black mascara run down your face. you look at yourself in the mirror and take a deep breath, willing yourself to not cry over some rich fucker.

you wipe your make up and change into a pair of sweatpants and lay back down on the couch. continuing your show trying to distract yourself from the indirect rejection you felt.

but your mind kept going back to him. why would he wanna be with you when he can get all those pretty girls with their perfect bodies. girls who could probably make him feel far better than you do.

you were stupid to think there was something going in between the two of you. as soon as that thought crosses your mind a text chimes. “baby, i’m so sorry. almost there. 5 minutes.”

you scoff at the nickname ‘baby’ huh. “don’t bother. i’m going to sleep.” but you don’t get a reply back. instead what you get is loud repetition of knocks on your apartment door followed by your name.

he waits a beat and then continues knocking. “not leaving until you open the door” he texts you. out of compassion for your neighbors, you open the door. his hand stops mid knock as you gesture him to get in.

"i'm really sorry, i swear i didn't mean to keep you waiting for so long." he starts rambling and you look at him with a plain stare and arms crossed to let him know you're not having his bullshit — you already know he has other priorities.

"i lost track of time and i left the party as soon as i realized. my phone was dead, so i couldn't even text you. i just charged it on the way here. darling, you know i'd never keep you waiting," he moves closer to grab your hands and you let him.

you gulp hard trying to not cry. he reaches to touch your face but you jerk your head away. "don't gojo." the change stings him and you see a look of hurt pass over his face. "please" he drags out the syllable. "okay," you tell him and he almost smiles but you reach out and wipe the lipstick mark off his cheek bringing it up to his eyes "what's this then?"

he narrows his eyes at your thumb in thought, "it's nothing, i swear. she kissed my cheek out of nowhere and they took the photo and i moved away from her just as fast." and you scoff in disbelief, "you just have an answer for everything, don't you gojo."

he groans “just give me a minute,” and pulls out his phone — going through his texts to show the photos of him taken throughout the night. out of habit you take in his appearance. he looks unbelievably sexy in an all black outfit, a sheer black tank and a black overcoat with matching suit pants. you're immediately reminded of your white dress that you had picked earlier and think how perfectly it’d match his outfit. a tear involuntarily escapes your eye.

you wipe it casually before he can notice. he pulls up the photo probably going around on social media at the moment and then the one of him moving away from the lady, "see!" he exclaims. and you sigh, "what do you want me to say gojo?"

"first off, don't call me gojo. secondly, forgive me. it was an honest mistake, you know i'd never do it on purpose. and lastly, i've missed you so so much baby," he drops his forehead to yours and you don't pull away. cause you've missed him just the same.

"go home," you whisper to him. "can't." he replies in the same manner. "it's too late and i didn't get my car. let me stay. let me make it up to you."

you pull away from him and turn towards your bedroom. he lets out a sigh of relief thinking maybe you were giving him a second chance but his shoulders deflate just as quick when you say, "you can take the guest room."

and so he does. he'd take any chance to be close to you since his job makes it hard for him to stay around you for long periods of time. so whenever he comes to this city, he'd prefers to stay with you rather than at a hotel.

and although your relationship and feelings for each other were hidden under the title of "fuck buddies" you both knew it was more than that. both of you went exclusive as soon as you started sleeping with each other. hell you don't think you could find anyone who would fuck you as good as satoru does. and he doesn't even want to try because the way your pussy makes him feel is other worldly.

he gets out of the shower and opts to wear just his boxers and lays comfortably at the thought of making it up to you in the morning. meanwhile you twist and turn trying to find a position to sleep, wondering if you should give in or keep it up so he knows what he did was wrong.

you wake up to the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen and smile when you remember satoru stayed over last night. albeit not with you but still. your jaw drops slightly when you walk out and see him standing by the stove in nothing but his boxers. the early morning light accentuating the dips and curves of his muscles.

"satoru!" you shriek covering your eyes. "oh, good morning baby. why are you hiding your face?" he asks as if he isn't standing there with his dick in your face. "why are you naked?! put something on!" you exclaim. "ahh, nothing you haven't seen before princess. plus i’m not naked. I’m wearing boxers!” he grins and then adds on “can't exactly wear those clothes when i'm cookin breakfast. it's uncomfortable."

"ugh," you say out loud and march back into your room. you come out with a pair of his sweatpants and throw it to him from across the counter. "wear these!"

"whatever you want baby," he pulls them on and they rest sinfully on his hips – almost teasing you and your cheeks flush. “can you taste this for me?” he asks and you walk around the counter to stand next to him as he pushes a spoonful of syrup towards you.

your eyes flutter close and you hum at the sweet taste. “this is really good,” you smile softly. “thanks. it’s for the french toast. i just put it in the oven to keep it warm. thought you’d be asleep for a little longer.” you beam at the mention of french toast, they were your favorite. “nutella?” you ask and he nods with a mesmerizing smile “just the way you like it, sweets.”

you both gaze at each other with a soft smile. “can i have another spoon?” you meek. you accidentally let a little bit of it dribble down your chin. “oh shit,” you’re about to wipe it off but satoru holds your hand and pulls you in closer.

you feel his tongue leave a wet trail behind as he licks the dripping syrup from your chin to the corner of your mouth. your breath hitches at the sensation. he pulls back and looks at you with smirk.

before he can take too much pride in catching you off guard, you surprise him by clashing your lips to his. he bucks backward and steadies himself with a grip on your waist.

his heart picks up a beat at finally feeling your plush lips on his. tasting the remnants of syrup still sticking to your lips. your kiss felt transcendental to him. like the only way to stay alive was the air that passed through your mouth to his. and he rejoiced at that. he’d be willing to live with you as his source of oxygen.

gaining back some composure he pushes you back and places you on the counter. you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in further. his tongue tries to find its way into your mouth but you don’t budge. instead you giggle into the kiss and he takes it as an indication to kiss your teeth.

his lips move over your jaw, lightly nipping at the skin at the space under your ear. his tongue pokes out and traces your ear lobe once, twice and then he nibs down on the cartilage playfully with a whine of your name. the oven’s beeping brings you both out of the love lust trance you’re in.

he huffs and moves back to turn off the oven while you turn off the stove and grab another spoon of syrup. he turns back to see you leaning back on an arm and kicking your feet – dropping the sticky syrup over your clothed perked nipples. the lack of a bra evident. “oops” you pout, feigning innocence.

his breath seizes at the scene unfolding in front of him. he licks his lips once and then without wasting any more time, his mouth moves over your chest. licking the syrup off your shirt and in the process stimulating your nipples just like you hoped. he pulls off your shirt and throws it behind somewhere behind but before he can go further you stop him “wait!”.

“not in the kitchen,” you speak timidly – a flush creeping up your neck at his lustful stare. pressure builds in your stomach at the way he’s looking at you and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction.

“where?” he asks as he picks you up. “anywhere but the kitchen,” you whisper into the skin of his neck as you place a chaste kiss. and then he’s dropping down to his knees with you. laying you on the wooden floor of your living room

he leaves you on the floor for a beat and then comes back with the pot filled with syrup. he peels of your sweatpants along with your soaked panties. “lay still,” he tells you and you straighten out your legs and arms.

using you as his canvas he grabs the pot of syrup and tilts it over your body. creating a pattern of syrup on your naked body. he places the pot back on the counter and admires his work. a thoughtful grin on his face as he makes eye contact with you. “can i take a photo of you?” he asks and you nod without a second thought. he grabs your phone and snaps a pic. this image of yours would be imprinted in his mind forever and more.

“look at how beautiful you look,” and surely you do. sprawled out over the wooden floors of your apartment with a sticky substance covering your body. but that’s not all. the sun shines through the curtains, casting your body in an ethereal light and a ring of light on your head acting as a halo. “just like an angel. my angel. aren’t you baby?” he asks for confirmation.

and maybe it’s too early to say but you do anyway. “only yours, satoru. always yours,” you utter the words he’s been waiting for – well he feels like his whole life but in reality it’s only been three months since you two started this relationship.

the intensity of his gaze has a shiver run over your body and you can feel goosebumps erupt across your skin. he moves on top of you. taking his time with your body. licking over and over until he cleans the syrup. you almost feel like you’re not breathing as his mouth moves over your neck, collarbones, chest, stomach – lapping and littering your skin with love bites.

before moving further down he gives you a deep kiss and you can taste the sweetness of the syrup on his tongue as it tangles with yours. but it’s so incredibly satoru, to be tasting this sweet you can’t help but suck his tongue a little.

finally he spreads your thighs and makes himself at home. licking a quick stripe to test your wetness. there’s so much arousal it has him wondering if you already came. your nubs a shade darker, almost angry at being away from him for so long. he coos at your pussy as it was a separate being. “you missed me, didn’t you?” a peck to your clit. “i missed you too, but your mommy was tryna keep us apart.” you can’t help but laugh at the endearing silliness of him speaking to your pussy. faking a gasp he whispers “i know! it’s okay. going to take such good care of you now,” this time he looks at you.

his tongue moves over your bundle of nerves pressing down on your nub stimulating it just the right amount and plunging a finger into your cunt. his eyes flutter close at your taste. “nothing comes close to your sweetness, darling” he groans. your hands tangle in his head as he continues sucking your clit. you moan his name “ha ha ‘m so close toru.” so he speeds up his pace – licking ferociously, wanting you to reach your high quicker.

you come with a scream of his name. eyes shut and fingers tugging his hair but he has no complaints. he loved the sting when you tugged his hair like this – when you were too fucked out to even realize you were doing it.

he frees his cock and he feels like he can breath a bit better now. his hardened cock turns impossibly harder when you reach a hand down and pump it a few times and he watches in awe. pre cum lathering his length.

“you doing okay?” he asks you from above aligning himself but not pushing in. “yeah,” you hum but you’re lost in thought. about last night. but satoru notices everything. he squeezes your cheeks so you look at him. “what’s wrong?” genuinely concerned.

“i was hurt last night when you didn’t show up on time. and i didn’t understand why i was so hurt because it’s not like we’re dating or anything. but seeing that pic of you, out with those people hurt. cause i was here waiting for you, wanting to surprise you with a dress i bought, that i thought you’d like. but that doesn’t matter. what i’m trying to say is that this is more than just sex for me satoru. i really really like you. i want more of you. more of this. more of us.” you confess all that you’ve held in since this past few weeks of being apart from him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, reeling in your confession. you feel like you’ve ruined whatever you had going on. “satoru, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way” in fact it wasn’t. you’d be heartbroken if he didn’t feel the same way. “you don’t have to say anything. i just, i-“ you’re about to continue but he cuts you off with a hard kiss. “i do too. all that you said. i too, want more of you, more of this, more of us. it’s more than just sex for me too, baby. has been for a while. i’m really sorry about last night. wear that dress for me tonight, please.” he pleads. “i’ll cook you a nice dinner and we can have our first date as an official couple. what’d you say?” he smiles softly.

your heart clenches at overwhelming emotions and tears line your eyes as you repeat yes over and over again until he’s kissing you and drinking the love out of you.

he carries you over to your bedroom and lays beside you. he grabs your leg and places it over his hip, lining his cock with your cunt. slowly he pushes into you. you both moan in unison. him at the feeling of your snug walls and you at the feeling of his cock stretching you apart.

your foreheads touch as you maintain eye contact. he thrusts into you ever so lovingly. languid and hard thrusts. as if you both had all the time in the world.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ���.

a/n: idk how i feel abt this 💔😭 but i hope you liked it. comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

#✎ luna.writes #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk fic #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #satoru smut #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo

[lovelytsunoda]

the way you kiss me works each time // lance stroll

summary: sexual innuendos and a scrabble board make for a flirty and cosy afternoon

pairing: lance stroll x wife! reader

warnings: 18+, no smut but it’s very suggestive and very flirty (while being cosy at the same time!!)

notes: can be read as a part of the ‘welcome to wherever you are’ verse or as a stand-alone, returning to an idea I had in part two (spill the wine). there's something about this whole concept that just makes me weak in the knees.

the sun was low in the sky as it threatened to dip behind the clouds. the breeze was gentle, coming over the balcony of the villa where the newlyweds were staying, overlooking the ocean as they basked in each other's company.

a scrabble board was spread out on the table in front of them, the low hum of the tv from the sitting room playing an italian travel programme. they had spent the day on a walking tour of capri, before spending the afternoon in an authentic italian pasta making class, and were now relaxing their tired bodies with cold drinks and a game of scrabble.

"and i play 'clever' for eleven points." she hummed, laying the tiles down and connecting them to lance's previous word.

"nice one." lance grinned, taking a sip of his mocktail. "but i think my word is better."

the grin on his face was palpable, a giddy sort of excitement radiating off her husband as he shook the wooden tiles in his hand, rearranging the letters on the board, until, lo and behold, lance stroll had played the word 'penis' for seven points.

she giggled, hiding her face behind her hand. the smooth australian lilt to her voice was like a symphony to lance's ears. "you are such a dork."

the board was full of such words. lance had gotten the brilliant idea that cleverly played scrabble tiles could be considered a way to flirt, filling the board with words like 'penis' and 'boobies' as if he was a teenaged boy again.

all in all, y/n actually found it very endearing. it was the kind of thing that had her heart swelling with love, her limbs going all funny. the kind of thing that reminded her just how much she loved her husband, and just how loved she was by the people around her.

"it's your play, my love."

resting her chin on her closed fists, elbows against the patio table, she looked down at the wooden tiles in her possession, brain scrambling to make words with what was pre-existing on the board. next to the table, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a picture from her wedding day, just two weeks ago.

"hang on, it's kirk. i should probably answer. you know how he worries."

having lost her dad when she was very young, it was her connection with kirk, one of her father's closest friends, that got her through some of the lowest points in her life. and naturally, like any good father figure, kirk worried about her more than he needed to.

while she typed back a response, she could hear lance rooting around in the velvet bag that held the remaining letters, before getting fed up and dumping them out in the lid for the box.

"babe, you can't handpick the letters you're switching." she laughed, looking up from her phone, the reflections of her text screen refracted in the lenses of her glasses.

lance put his finger to his lips, jokingly making a shushing sound. "go back to texting, i need a minute. just wait."

rolling her eyes, she sent kirk another message before turning her phone off and leaving it facedown on the patio table. "come on, lance. i'm winning and i've got a really good word to play."

"but i think i've got a string of better ones." lance smiled triumphantly, pleased with himself as he placed the cardboard box lid on top of the board.

inside, a dozen wooden tiles were arranged to spell out (with many abbreviations and mistakes) wil u have sex w me

"oh my god." she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as her body shook with good-natured laughter. "oh my god!"

"i wanted to spell it out on the board during the game, but alas, i am not that smart, or good at scrabble." lance mused, reaching across the table to clasp her free hand in his. "so...will you say yes?"

"of course i'm saying yes." she laughed, uncovering her mouth. "this is the cutest way you have ever tried to get me into bed with you."

lance wasted no time at all in crossing the table and scooping his wife into his arms, twirling her around as they both laughed, before crossing the balcony to venture back into the suite.

"wait! we can't leave our shit outside, what if it rains?" y/n whined, trying to put her feet back on the ground. "let me go back outside, i'll meet you in the bedroom."

"alright, alright." lance rolled his eyes, placing her back on the ground. "but don't take too long, if i get too comfortable i might fall into a pasta-induced coma!"

still laughing to herself, she crossed over to the balcony and haphazardly packed up the scrabble board and her cell phone, taking a large swig of her drink before clearing the table and moving everything inside, closing the double doors behind her.

true to his word, lance was waiting for her in the bedroom, shirtless underneath the cotton sheets, with a rose between his lips, body seductively draped over the bed.

"i love you." y/n laughed, reaching for the rose. "but i'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to put real life flowers in your mouth."

"there's tape over the bit i was biting." lance shrugged, allowing her to take the flower and place it on the bed side table. "i know how you get about these things."

"shut up." she laughed, playfully jabbing him in the shoulder. "i'm serious. i'm glad you're in my life. you make me really happy."

she didn't wait for a response, although she knew lance would return the sentiment tenfold while they were lying together in the half-light, and again when he brought her breakfast in bed in the morning. she pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly, yet deeply before she reached up to take her glasses off.

"ah," lance said, grasping her wrist. "glasses stay on. don't you know the sexy librarian look is back in style? they look beautiful on you."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @userlando @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @cartierre @lorarri

#lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x you #lance stroll smut #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 smut #mini fic

[matan4il]

Hey!! Idk if you are watching Eurovision or if you are but still are a bit behind but when you end/see the final results, were you expecting Israel to end up where it ended up or?

Hi Nonnie!

I absolutely watched, gotta cheer for Eden, after all she had been through! It wasn't easy, we had a rocket attack by Hamas at Israel during the show, while people who have never had to run into a bomb shelter for their lives booed in the venue at Israel getting as little as 3 points here or there, from a random jury.

I think Croatia deserved to win, I didn't expect us to, and TBH, with the financial crisis Israel is currently going through due to the war, I might not want us to, because it costs a lot to host.

But Israel making it to second place in the public's vote? Wow. WOW. What a statement. The judges in the juries have to put their names to their vote, and with the hatred that some protesters have spilled at anything Israel related, to the point of people personally threatened, I'm not that surprised that we didn't get more during that part of the show. But where people aren't being personally threatened? All these countries showed that Israel isn't as much of a pariah as some violent protesters would like you to believe, and that sane people understand what Israel is going through.

Israel also beat in the public vote every one of the awful "artists" that had no qualms about being disgusting to a 20 years old girl, who is representing her people, as if she's guilty of what they think about her government. Considering that it could have easily been them, targeted because of something their government was doing, the complete lack of empathy and basic human decency, or even just understanding for a fellow performer was beyond vile. So yeah, I'm glad Eden got more points than Switzerland, Ireland, Portugal, Greece and the UK. These, together with the Dutch singer (who got himself disqualified) were the worst offenders, constantly harassing and humiliating Eden and others in the Israeli delegation. MUCH LOVE to the people in those countries that were better than their representatives, and to those in every country that voted for Eden, showing compassion and an actual endorsement of humaneness.

Did I expect it? I had hopes the public would be kinder than expected, but yeah, I didn't think we'd get a second place among viewers. And enough points from juries to get to 5th place overall, too? It was incredible, and it felt like a win. I'm very proud of all those voters, of the jury judges who dared to put "Israel" next to their names, and of the Israeli team (they said that all that hate just made them want to be even more professional about the whole thing).

Am Yisrael chai! We're alive, kicking, and in our way, even winning!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #anti terrorism #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #terrorism #hamas #ask #anon ask #eurovision

[xannador]

The finale of Mostly (h)Armless goes live on Patreon this Friday. The public release is 2 weeks after, on Friday the 31st.

I'm... honestly still devastated by the news about Tango Gameworks. It's hard to put into words. Other people have described how much of a tragedy it is much better than I could have.

Working in the game industry myself, I can only imagine how the team feels. It's one thing to have your studio shut down when you've produced a failure, it's another to have it happen when you've published hit after hit.

I hope the team of Tango Gameworks know that their work is, and will always be, loved.

#hi-fi rush #hi-fi rush mostly (h)armless #hi-fi rush comic #hi-fi rush chai #hi-fi rush fanart #comic #hi fi rush #webcomic #peppermint #korsica #macaron #cnmn #808

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Fake Date

@wolfstarmicrofic May 11, word count 875

“Eugh, my mum keeps asking who I’m bringing to my cousin's wedding!” Remus groaned as he checked the new message on his phone. “She’s getting worse. Ever since Oscar and I broke up it’s all she cares about.” He shook his head and put on a high-pitched voice, imitating Hope. “Reemuss,” He elongated his name like Hope did with her lilting accent. “Remus, why don’t you have a nice boy to bring to Gwen’s wedding? You should go find yourself someone, Remus.” He grimaced. “Like it’s so easy. She met dad in the middle of a forest when that guy jumped out of the trees at her and dad came to her rescue. Knowing my luck, the would be murderer would fall for me.” He leaned his head back and cursed the heavens. 

Sirius had sat there patiently listening to Remus grouse. He snatched Remus’s phone from his lap and typed a quick message to Hope. 

“There,” He said. “Now you have a date.” He grinned mischievously. Remus paled. 

“What did you do?” He picked up his phone and gasped. “Sirius! What the actual?!” His phone pinged as Hope started gushing about how happy she was and how much she’d always loved Sirius. He had to put his phone on silent to shut it up. Sirius had messaged Hope telling her that he was bringing Sirius as his date. Sirius who he’d had a crush on for years and told his mother every little thing about it. Oh gods, this was going to be a disaster. 

“It’ll be fine, Remus. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend for the day, and then we’ll mysteriously break up, none of them will be the wiser, and it'll make your mum happy.” Remus groaned into his hands. 

They travelled to Wales the day before the wedding and stayed at Remus’s parents house. Lyall greeted them at the door but then disappeared into his study. He was happy in there and Remus was happy he was in there, to be honest. They’d never quite seemed to quite understand each other and this way was easier, much to Hope’s annoyance. 

Hope, on the other hand, wrapped them both in her arms and cooed over Sirius.

“I knew you’d end up together. You’re perfect for each other.” Sirius lapped it up. The only problem they had was Hope put them in Remus’s old bedroom. They hadn’t thought of that when they’d agreed to stay there. There wasn’t even another spare room. 

“It’ll be fun,” Sirius beamed. “Like being back at school.” 

“We never shared a bed. That was you and James,” Remus reminded him. 

“Well, better late than never then, I guess,” Sirius responded. So that was how Remus found himself in bed with Sirius. 

Thankfully, morning came quickly and then it was time for the wedding. 

Everybody made a fuss about Sirius.

“He’s so handsome Remus,” His grandmother had declared when he’d introduced him. “You ought to put a ring on his finger, so he doesn’t get away,” She’d said loudly. Remus went beet red. 

“Nain, you can’t just yell that out!” He hushed her. 

“And why not? I want to see some great grand kids before I pop my clogs, and you aren’t getting any younger,”

“Oh my god,” He didn’t know how to handle her apart from with a gin and tonic and the bar wasn’t open yet. 

“Don’t you worry, Mrs Howell, I’ll make an honest man out of him.” Sirius said, linking her arm with his and leading her away to her table. He turned and winked at Remus. Remus wished he could turn invisible. 

By the end of the wedding, Sirius had won over all of Remus’s family and all of the grooms. In fact, more people knew who Sirius was at the wedding than knew who Remus was. 

Remus was glad when they were on their way back to his parents house. It had been a long day. “So,” Sirius asked him. “When are you going to pop the question? Your Nain’s promised me her engagement ring.” He grinned, fighting back a laugh at Remus. 

“Oh, haha, Sirius,” Remus rolled his eyes and said no more about the subject. 

That night, much to Remus’s surprise, Sirius snuggled under his arm and rested his head on Remus’s chest. 

“I had fun today.” Sirius told him with a sleepy voice. “Your family is really nice, and I might just steal your Nain. She was brilliant.” He turned his head to look at Remus. “Thank you for letting me come.” He said quietly. 

“You invited yourself. I had nothing to do with it.” Remus huffed. 

He closed his eyes hoping Sirius would take the hint. But instead, Sirius pushed up and kissed him. Remus’s eyes shot open, and he stared at Sirius. 

“I was serious about that ring, Moony. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there.” Remus didn’t know what to say, so he dragged Sirius’s face back to his and kissed him deeper than their first. He melted as Sirius kissed him back. “Took you long enough,” Sirius murmured against his lips. Remus had never been happier. He made a note to send a bottle of champagne to his cousin, because without her this might never have happened.   

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar au #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fluff #remus lupin #sirius black #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #hope lupin #lyall lupin #hope lupins mother #nain Howell #wedding #why wont my mum let me be #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #oh you like me two #didn't see that coming #fake date

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me

You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.8K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.” 

You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah. 

“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.” 

“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”

As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping. 

“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.” 

You laughed. 

“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.” 

“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…” 

“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…” 

“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?” 

“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.” 

You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.

It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel. 

Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be. 

That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone. 

You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind. 

“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.” 

“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.” 

“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…” 

“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…” 

“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.” 

“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.” 

You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did? 

Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life. 

“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…” 

You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to. 

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?” 

“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…” 

The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world. 

But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out. 

“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.” 

“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?” 

“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.” 

“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.” 

“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.” 

Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning. 

“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree. 

“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.” 

He scoffed. 

“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.” 

“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously. 

“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…” 

“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder. 

You sighed again. 

“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.” 

“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.” 

“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.” 

“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”

You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.

Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm. 

“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said. 

Joel snorted. 

“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.” 

“Night Joel.” 

Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle. 

“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!” 

“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…” 

Sarah groaned. 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.” 

You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said. 

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did. 

“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn. 

“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!” 

“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.

“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.” 

Joel snorted. 

“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.” 

“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…” 

He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it. 

“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…” 

“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…” 

“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate. 

“Still gonna get sick,” he replied. 

You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top. 

“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…” 

“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish. 

“We can do a spa day!” She beamed. 

“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face. 

At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt. 

“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.” 

You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back. 

You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession. 

“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?” 

Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it. 

“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said. 

“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.” 

He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it. 

“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled. 

He laughed. 

“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…” 

“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.” 

He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment. 

“What…” 

“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.” 

He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.

“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…” 

Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you. 

“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?” 

“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.” 

The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad. 

“So that’s you?” She asked. 

“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.” 

“What’s it for?” She asked. 

���Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.” 

“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.” 

Joel shrugged. 

“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.” 

Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it. 

“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.” 

She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front. 

“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you. 

You just shrugged. 

“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said. 

She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one. 

“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel. 

“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.” 

She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch. 

“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!” 

“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.” 

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!” 

She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you. 

“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.” 

“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.” 

“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.” 

You smiled a little. 

“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?” 

Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed. 

The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done. 

Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you. 

A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people. 

How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home? 

“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.” 

You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car. 

“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.” 

“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.” 

You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little. 

“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.” 

“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.” 

An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little. 

“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.” 

“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.” 

He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it. 

“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.” 

You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too. 

The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so. 

“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.” 

And… you tried. You really, truly did. 

Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now? 

The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie. 

It wasn’t. 

Hey Doll

You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing? 

Hi Gale

You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop. 

It didn’t take long. 

How’ve you been doing? 

Your hand shook as you replied. 

Alright. I like the new school. You?

He responded almost instantly. 

Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you. 

You froze, your heart in your throat. 

He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear? 

You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped. 

You went back to the texts. 

How’s Carla? 

There was a longer pause that time. 

She’s not you. 

“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help. 

I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time. 

You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did. 

“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did. 

“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.” 

“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?” 

“Blue Bell?” You asked. 

“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?” 

“Oh, my apologies…” 

“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.” 

“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said. 

“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before. 

“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?” 

“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.” 

“That a threat?” 

“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago. 

“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.” 

“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…” 

“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…” 

“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.” 

There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow. 

“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.” 

“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?” 

“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…” 

“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…” 

You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head. 

You still almost dropped it. 

“Hey Doll.” 

***

“Hi Gale.” 

Joel’s heart dropped. 

“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?” 

“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.” 

You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it. 

Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming. 

Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator? 

He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted. 

He especially couldn’t be trusted with you. 

Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove. 

“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly. 

“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.” 

“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked. 

Tommy sighed. 

“Fine. What’s up?” 

“Need you to take Sarah tonight.” 

“Joel, come on!” 

“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…” 

“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off. 

“That’s the one,” Joel said. 

“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.” 

“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.” 

Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little. 

But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in. 

He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood. 

You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back. 

He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him. 

“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…” 

Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you. 

“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” 

He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it. 

But he didn’t care. 

All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you. 

A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.

But also... his presence does get results.

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #slow burn #halcyon

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff! Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters

Notes: That's right, I plan to make it a series. Not too short, not too long but enough! Benedict has stolen my days and nights and I've been daydreaming too much ngl.

WC: 3.5K

Humidity has reached its peak.

You cursed quite low as the sweat forming on your lower back created a wave of uncomfortableness and nevertheless, you were putting yet another layer of fabric. Madame Delacroix called it freshening and here you are, the third hour of trying out the fabrics of the newly imported cloth.

"Better than whalebone, is it not mon cherie?"

You looked at Madame Delacroix with the sense of cursing her too but you smiled rather sweetly "Steel you said? It is... better" You felt the structure of the corset, still very fitting and nothing different from the previous ones except for the metal strips on the side.

"Bien, we shall get it" The seamstress nodded and started working immediately and as you stood there; presence made statue and breath made a mere flow you saw people passing, your mother with her pupils dilated as the colours of fabric captured her you wondered if perhaps things could go more easily this season.

A sudden wave of hope filled you at the thought of not having Daphne around, not to confuse it with hate, you love the Bridgertons but the eldest sister made quite a chaos last time that unfortunately even if some pair of eyes landed on you, Daphne and the Duke took most for themselves.

When you returned to your house, adorned with the marble that was polished every morning of every day, you lay on your bed tired of doing absolutely nothing. Looking pretty in a burgundy dress is not a task that burns brain cells.

“Mama” you said with your head facing the ceiling and your legs swinging.

The woman who you were looking for entered the room, holding a cup of tea in her hands and a smile on her face, one that was painted so naturally, one that she passed to you.

“Yes, my dear?”

“May I go to the Bridgertons?”

“Now?” Your mother saw the agony on your face “I want you back before sunset”

“You must not worry” Your heels clicked on the ground as you got up, a smile on your face and the feeling of going to a friend's house instead of spending the day in your chambers “Finally, finally” you whispered clumsily going outside your grandiose mansion and breathing the powdery vs. Pollen of London’s air.

It was a three-minute stroll as you turned the block towards the Bridgertons; ultimately you saw the gates open and the carriage that was waiting outside.

The sun was shining as you looked upwards, the sky a shade of blue that reminded you of the ocean, the one that your father brought you to a couple of summers ago.

You knocked twice and waited for someone to open, a maid appeared and bowed.

“Miss Ashbourne”

“Morning Rose, may I?”

“Please, the ladies are-“

“In the drawing-room, I assume, as always”

“Miss Penelope is there as well"

"The more, the better. Thank you, Rose" With pose you took your dress and tried to walk inside the beautiful almost similar entree of the house but-

"Anthony?!"

You smiled at the voice and before stepping into the staircase you turned around and made your way to the other room; the one that always smelled like oils and wood.

“I believe your sight might be flawed… that or you quite meant I look like Anthony”

Benedict’s eyes lift from the painting, a smile spreading on his lips and you did the same.

“In spirit perhaps” he curved his lips “Forgive me Miss Ashbourne, the angle from this side is not ideal to see who walks around”

“Hmmm that’s alright,” you said stepping into the middle of the room, the tiles stained with long-forgotten strokes “How are you?”

“Not bad at all and you?”

“I could be better, a boring day it is but I meant if you were fine after art school and…” you stopped to see if you were not being impertinent but he seemed to put his wooden palette down and pierced his ears “I mean…”

“That’s kind of you to ask, Y/N” he shrugs “I’m dealing with it well, I’m content with what I’m doing right now and what happened there it was to be enjoyed”

“That’s good,” you said ready to leave the room “Well I shall leave you with your…” your eyes caught the painting, a room adorned with frames and curtains “Beautiful painting”

"Thank you, I'm still polishing it but thank you" He eyes you oh so slowly as he squinted his eyes “Would you like to stay for a while?”

“Oh”

“Come on, I’ve always enjoyed sharing words with you”

"Well..." You said unsure, you didn't want to leave him so fast after the kind words and the invitation, it was rude of you "I would like to"

"Good, you can sit right there" He pointed to the chair and you did what you were told, watching how Benedict moved the easel and the chair behind, you heard a bit of noise as the stool and his tools were put in a table, he sat down and looked at you

"Tell me, I know you’re a debutante this season”

You snorted that the sound made Benedict laugh in return “My days have been filled with the preparations for this season and my mama is driving me crazy because apparently, I don't know how to sit and breathe"

"What?"

“I move my chest too quickly that it looks like I’m always on the verge of an attack, that’s what she says. I never thought controlling my breathing would be a concern in my life but here we are”

How eyes had a mind of their own because they landed very briefly on the straight neckline of your dress and the mounds of your chest and he snapped only to say "She cares about you"

"I know" You shrugged “is just so… boring”

“What? Do you want some drama? Perhaps lady Whistledown-“

“Not the drama inked words can bring” you confessed “I do not know what I want from this season. Last one I was still an espectator and yet the chaos was too much to bear. This time… should I prefer quietness and routine? Or perhaps-“

“A scandal,” he said with a glint in his eyes “I would go for the latter but I'm not you"

"You think it's the right thing to do?"

"No, but I have a reputation to live up to" He smiles and you cannot help but laugh as his shoulders move in amusement "So I am the one to talk, aren't I?”

“Quite indeed you are, Benedict,” you said

“So” he smiled “can you spare some time so I can tell you how I achieved the perspective here?”

“I can spare a day or two”

“That’s real talking”

Benedict has always been keen on you. Your spirit reminded him of Anthony; how sharp and stubborn and your way of talking reminded him of Eloise; how straightforward and full of wit. Every time you found each other alone the conversation flowed like a river; the topics varied and he liked to be surprised, and you liked to surprise in return.

Today he was trying to explain to you how he was working on the perspective and the shading; you didn't understand half the things that were coming out of his mouth and yet you kept your attention on him, it was hard to do so as you saw how he moved his hand to demonstrate or the way he tilted his head with fervour.

It took a gentle few minutes for you to get into the atmosphere you always find with Benedict. The straight posture left your body as you moved your hands from your lap and made your way next to the canvas. Your nose could smell the painting and fresh oil splash on a jar. For all you know, Benedict Bridgerton, the tallest and silliest brother, had a way to make you feel yourself. Indeed with one and twenty years on this earth, you would say you have the closest for at least a solid seven with him: a good friend with good values and good lips, the former an observation you have assembled for the past two years.

“But who says that in the same painting orange and purple must avoid each other?” you asked staring at his fingers and the way he pointed at the canvas "hmmm?"

“You see, my professor said that the tones do not match and rather make the art cheap” he explained

"so" you laughed "if by any chance I decide to follow Lady Featherington's fashion trend and mix orange and purple in my wardrobe... I'll be considered cheap by your professor?"

He smiled looking down and hastily removed the curl from your side and allowed it to frame your face better "He would be mad to even think such a thing but please stay with your beautiful gowns, it makes your skin glow"

You stayed there feeling the pulsation at the back of your neck and the sudden urge to remain silent, the feeling of a blush forming and you were aware.

"Thank you" you whispered and moved away to see the painting closer, your hands behind your back.

"You're welcome" He smiled, not taking his eyes off of you and he saw how you were trying to avoid his stare.

Change the subject. You told yourself.

“Haven’t the styles changed over the years?" you asked out loud and trying very well to follow what your head was ordering "If orange and purple even join each other in the future I would be quite mad that it was not you who decided to pursue such an art transgression”

Benedict felt the most boyish with that compliment that he looked down and snorted all genuinely.

“We will see, I have several canvases ready to be corrupted and you. I mean you?” He smiled “How are your activities?”

Your smile grew large “Let me tell you about this book I’ve been reading, it has six volumes”

“I’m all ears, Miss Ashbourne”

That day apart from receiving multiple comments and opinions from Benedict about the biology books you stole from your father's library, you also received a scold from your mother alas you didn’t return when you were supposed to and you said you were encapsulated with the girls and the tea that tracking time was not good. Lost indeed between the smell of oil paintings and unfinished canvases.

And when debuting finally happened, oh so gracefully in front of the Queen. You smiled when it was over, the simple nod of Queen Charlotte alleviated any woes within your mother. You, Y/N Ashbourne a debutante with an ambitious mama by her side. The season was ready to begin.

A week was when you swore you could not feel your cheeks anymore. You have succeeded and had five suitors calling on you every day. The conversations were just a tad dry like the biscuits served by the Cowpers.

“Tighter”

Your squeal resonates only within you as your ladies tightened the corset and followed, as always, your mama’s orders.

“Tighter”

“Perhaps this is good, I feel like I might…”

“You are good my dear, tighter” your mother nodded

And the last squeal escaped your lips as you saw in the three mirror dresser how up your breasts appeared. After getting ready, with the greatest olive green beaded dress Madame Delacroix could design, you made your way to Lady Danbury’s Ball.

It was a night as expected. Your first dance was with a Viscount. He was old, not very handsome and didn't talk to you, you only nodded. The second was an Earl, you were thankful it was a waltz because it seemed that he was not keen on anything else than moving back and forth. The third much to your dismay and much to other girls’ amusement the Marquis of Ashdown stepped on your poor toes until you were destroyed not by dancing but by being in front of him.

“Quite young is he not?” Eloise said with a macabre smile

“Shush it, El. I am mostly embarrassed, he belongs in a nursery”

“And yet he is wife-hunting” she snickered “Nonetheless I must admit that if you two marry then you’ll downgrade from Ashbourne to Ashdown”

“Incredibly funny you are Eloise Bridgerton”

The night went as expected, everything as expected and nothing to be surprised about.

“Goodbye!” Eloise almost yelled that even you blinked in surprise and her quick getaway made you sense a male figure was coming your way so you turned and saw Lord Coxingworth, with his light blonde hair brushed backwards he requested a dance and finally your toes relaxed as well as your dancing skill made is debut; with such a dancer such as Lord Coxingworth.

“I may say that this has been a refreshing way to end my night” he smiled

“You are leaving?”

“I’m afraid so, Miss Ashbourne. My mother is not feeling fine”

“Oh my, then you ought to leave immediately. Give her my regards and please send me a letter once you reach home. I pray she recovers fastly and hopefully, your journey home won't take too long"

"I shall" He bowed and you smiled. “And I shall see you once this matter is settled. I shall pay a visit next week, Miss Ashbourne. You look gorgeous tonight"

You thanked him and watched how he disappeared into the crowd. It was the last dance of the night and yet your feet did not hurt as much after the success and your mother approved with a single nod.

You made your way to the back of the ballroom where Eloise was waiting with Penelope. Minutes later to what it seemed between giggles and quick banter, you saw a shadow passing and it stood quite tall beside Eloise. Benedict.

“Ah sister; mother is looking for you; something about at least being seeing for five minutes beside a man”

“I must leave too, my mother is…” Penelope distractedly said “She is… bye”

You turned to see Benedict with his pristine and flattened down dressing robe “They left me in bed company”

He acted hurt “ow how sorry I am, they left me with a good-looking girl” he shrugged “It’s a matter of perspective” he stared at the green dress “You look quite beautiful. How was the night, is it true you danced with the Marquis of Ashdown?”

“I fought a war with his feet, that was not a dance”

“Let the poor kid be, you are a fine dancer, better than anyone I know. So? He is going to pursue you?

You smiled “Only if his governess allows him”

He snorted and made a burning sound “Good girl” he sigh “What about Lord Coxingworth?”

“Oh… I think it went better than Ashdown”

“Hmmm”

“He said he ought to see me next week”

“Did he?” He sniffed “I think then you have a suitor then”

“Far from it,” you said and looked around “Before the end of this night I must go into Lady Danbury’s library”

“Are you…” he smirked, “Sneaking and stealing yet another book?”

“She once said I could take advantage of her collection”

“yes, only if you are inside the house” he debated with a laugh

“And I am not?”

“But you will not. You’ll get the book and leave the house with it”

“And…” you stood quickly on your tips “if no one sees anything… no one has to know”

He smiled and shook his head but formed an O with his mouth when he saw how swiftly you moved away from your spot. The beads on your dress shifted with you, the curls on your back bounced at the pace and he, the only accomplice in such a furtive task, joined you.

“Perhaps it is better to go back, they might be expecting us”

“Oh nonsense,” you said with the thirst for that book you knew Lady Danbury had, your hand turned the knob and your eyes sparked at the dark of the room that held the shadows of all the books “Eureka”

Benedict stood behind you, a small smile on his face as you searched for the book.

His eyes, like a thief, looked at your curves, the ones the dress did not hide and tried but also sneakily -in the theme of the night- to capture a glance of your oh-so-fast-moving chest your mother thinks you have.

“What is the book?” he asked

“A collection of poetry, not known, written by I believe anonymous people”

“Huh, controversial. Have you read other compilations?"

“Not now but if this one is good, I will try to get a hold of more… unusual editions. This one has the most beautiful cover and I can't help to imagine what it's about"

"I see" he whispered, his voice a bit deeper as his eyes landed on your face

"Do you have a problem?" You turned around to see his eyes were not on the shelves

"No, no, not at all. Let us do something. Open the book on any page and read it out loud. Let us judge it, not by the cover but by one page and one page at all”

You smiled widely at the idea and nodded, you moved around to be in front of him, your left shoulder leaning against a bookshelf allowing yourself to feel more relaxed.

“Alright then…” you cleared your throat and questioned where you could split the book, the beginning, the middle or the end. As your long fingers traced the last page, you told yourself that knowing the ending might ruin the whole thing even if it’s a poetry book “Here” you blindly said and split the book “Let me…” you cleared your eyes amidst the dark room

"In halls of opulence, where high society reigns,

A love forbidden, amidst whispered refrains.

She, a maiden of humble birth, with grace and charm untold,

He, a nobleman of lineage, with wealth and power bold.

Their hearts entwined in secret, amidst societal divide,

Forbidden love's sweet agony, where passions dare to hide.

For in their world of privilege, where status reigns supreme,

Their love is but a whisper, in a world of stifled dreams.

Yet in the hush of moonlit nights, beneath the stars' soft gleam,

They steal away in shadows, where love's light doth beam.

For in their hearts' defiance, they find a love divine,

A bond that knows no boundaries, in a world of rigid line.”

Your eyes darted up to look at him, you didn't expect his eyes to be already on you. His eyes had a certain glint, an emotion you could not pinpoint and as you waited, he cleared his throat.

“That was such a heartfelt piece” he nodded

“Very sad,” you said “I wonder if this person wrote it while going through it or wrote it as a memory of what once was”

“Knowing this world we live in, the latter”

“I enjoyed it” You closed the book and smiled at the cover, you could see the outline of the letters, “I’ll keep it for a while”

“Only if you read some to me too, if I have shared this task I shall share the prize”

You giggled “What a prize, a poetry book”

“Time with you I would say,” he said very quickly in a hoarse voice that he didn’t know he could do

Your heart did a thing, it beat hard and quick but also slow and you felt it was going to be out of your chest.

He was not expecting an answer and so he said "Let's get out of here"

"Yes, let's"

Once outside the room and with the book hidden in your dress, Benedict looked both sides of the hallway and gave you the thumbs up and you both made a run for it, a run for the stairs and to the exit door.

And there you stood, with the cool air hitting your face, with a smile so bright Benedict had to squint his eyes, the laughter came, loud and uncontrollably.

"Miss Ashbourne" He said once the laugh died, the joy in his eyes were still present "and I called myself a bad influence once did I not?”

“I learnt from you, Benedict”

It was the sound of his name coming from your mouth that made him shiver. He didn’t know how or why he felt such a pull. Such desire and such attraction. Unequivocally you were beyond what a diamond could be, the face of an angel he confessed but the natural and free aura that you radiated since he had memory is what made him be there with you at most times.

He didn’t know how it happened but he found himself quite close to your figure, under the night sky, he could see the warm lights crashing against your right side and the darkness hiding the left one.

“What is the name of the book?”

He asked such a simple question but with so much passion that if you were not wise enough to understand the tone, you would have thought he felt compelled to have the book right now.

You blinked at the soft wave of his brandy breath and saw the eyes that stared down -because of the height- and how intrigued he looked.

“Entwined”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #smut #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton x you #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #18+ only #18+ content #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton smut

[canthelpit0]

American

Pairing: matt x poc!reader

Wordcount: 2.2K +

Summary: reader is a third culture kid. Her parents are immigrants, and she hates it. She wants to be everything she is not.

Warnings: angst, crying, hating your own culture, racism, internalized racism, middle eastern!reader, reader discerned as average, established relationship, pet names, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no oc; reader described to have curly hair, brown eyes and hair.

(A/N: not me reflecting lmao. asks and req are open <3 feedback is appreciated!)

I hate my culture. I hate my frizzy hair, I hate the fact that my eyes are a plain brown. I hate the fact that I’m not white. I hate that when someone asks me where I’m from and I say America, they go “no where are you actually from?”. I hate my brain. I hate the way I think. I hate the way I wish I was someone else. I hate myself, and I hate the way I hate myself.

I was never considerably pretty. Well not really. Sure the facial harmony, the potential is there. But I’m just not good enough.

I wish my hair was straight.

I hate the way I hate my own culture. I really do. But I literally can’t fit into the American beauty Standards , but I can’t fit into the middle eastern ones either.

My home country is America. I was born and raised here. But both of my parents are immigrants from turkey. -Wich means we’re not very wealthy.

I hate it when people ask me where I’m from because I look ‘exotic’.

I wouldn’t consider turkey my home country. I hate it there. And I don’t know if it’s just my internalized hatred or whatever, but I do.

Even in the country itself I’m not considered Turkish enough. In the US I’m not American enough…

I’m never enough.

Not to my parents, not to my siblings, not to my boyfriend. Not to myself. I’m not good enough.

we go to turkey for vacation every year and I’m sick of it.

I speak the language enough to communicate. I hate half the food because I’m a picky eater. It hurts even more because I’m not even considered properly Turkish.

I hate the way all my cousins, except for one, live In turkey. I hate the way they’re so close to each other. And despite being in the cousins group chat, they’ll always send in pictures of them all together. Pictures that I’ll never be in, simply because I’m halfway across the world.

Years ago, whenever we visited, it didn’t matter, the fact that I live so far away, but now they were judgy.

Besides I don’t trust anything there. Sure the stuff there is cheaper, but you could literally put me in an official Nike store and I would still tell you the shoes are fake, even tho they obviously aren’t.

I did an internship at a disposition and shipping company. I know that those shoes come from the same warehouse. I just don’t trust anything Turkish.

Growing up with so many myths that my parents taught me to live by, until I realized it’s just a bunch of bullshit, made me believe that nothing purchased in turkey is of any quality.

And it’s not even to hate on the nation or anything, it’s probably my own fault.

I hate the way all the other middle easternerns are so confident in where they’re from, flexing the fact that they naturally know more languages than Americans.

But I just wish I was one of those stupid Americans. Oblivious to the rest of the world and all the flaws in human nature. I wish I was a skinny white woman born into an upper middle class American family.

But instead I have to be what I am.

I hate it when I hear people talk in my ‘native’ language. Even tho that’s the only language we speak at home.

Sometimes I feel great knowing that I have culture and just naturally great genetics, and potential and resources to be better than those stuck in a village in my ‘home’ town.

But then it dawns on me that I’m not American, even if I was born and raised here it’s not my home country. And as much as I feel like it should be and is, it’s not.

It dawns on me that I’m not white. I’m not one of them. And I never will be.

And that makes me question why Matt is even dating me.

There is so much internal self hatred and racism going on in me, yet still he chose me over those white girls.

And I don’t get it.

Every time I look at myself in the mirror I sigh. Let’s ignore the fact that I’m not white like that and will never be. Even being middle eastern, or whatever the hell turks are considered, I don’t look like that either.

I fit literally nowhere. Sure I have dark brown hair and brown eyes, I look pretty average. But I still don’t look Turkish, I don’t have that straight hair or painfully skinny body.

I let out a heavy sigh without even noticing. These thoughts were getting loud again.

I hate how strict and conservative my parents are. I hate the painful lack of empathy they show, because I always have to be perfect, when I’m oh so confused of what type of perfect.

I don’t know if they want me to be a cheerleader and prom queen and top of my class like they never could. Or if they want me to be conservative or something.

Probably the latter, but-

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice suddenly snaps me out of my daze. We literally had laid down to sleep and all I could do is pity myself.

I feel a lump in my throat and only now realize how i feel like I’m going to break into sobs.

Matt must’ve heard my uneven, shaky breaths.

Matt was spooning me, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him. He rubs my sides gently, tracing shapes on my skin.

I sigh in response. I feel like I haven’t used my voice in so long. I feel like if I speak now, I’ll break into sobs.

“Baby?” He whispers softly. I feel him pull away slightly until he turns me around to face him.

“Talk to me sweetheart.”

Matt is such a kind soul. I literally didn’t tell my parents we were dating until we were already dating for 7 months, just because I was that scared. I wasn’t allowed to date or do anything intimate. As if it wasn’t normal for a teenager to want to.

“Why do you like me Matt?” I blurt out before I can think.

“First off, I don’t like you, I love you. And second where is this coming from?” He asks sweetly his eyes having a tinge of concern to them. He looks so sweet and caring.

“Why tho?” I inquire. My voice low. I know my eyes are glassy, I’m quite literally holding back tears.

Matt licks his lips and sits up. He turns the bedside table lamp on. The dim yellow light aluminates the room slightly, just enough so that I can see his prominent features even better.

“What do you mean?” He asks again now sitting up fully. He has his legs Chris-cross, looking down at me while I still lay on my side.

I sigh trying to gather my thoughts. I purse my lips lying back on my back. I stare at the ceiling for a moment.

“Why do you love me?” I purse my lips. I blink furiously trying to hold back tears.

The way he looks at me is sweet and caring. I sit up just like him. Both of us now sitting across each other, Chris-cross.

Matt and I have been together for a long while, so he knows me. But I never openly talked about it.

“I love you because you’re kind, and caring. I love you because you could talk for hours about things you are passionate about. I love your voice, I love your face, I love the way you’re so delicate with everything. I love the way you touch me. I love you because even when we were just friends you were so kind to me and everyone around. I love you because you’re you.”

By the end of his rant I was crying. Tears streaming down my face while i try to hold in gut wrenching sobs.

Matt’s eyes soften even further. He shifts again so his back is against the head-bored. He grabs me gently and sets me down on his lap facing him.

I cry. Feeling vulnerable I burry my face in the side of his neck. I try not to sob too loud, but I can’t hold it in. With my sobs my body shakes as I try to breathe through it.

“Shh you’re okay baby.” He comforts, gently rubbing circles into my back.

I let out shaky breaths and sobs as I try to calm down. I feel like I’m overreacting. Sure I feel shitty about myself, but then again I can’t do anything to change who I am, so what’s the point in crying about it.

I don’t know for how long I cry, I just know that after a while I couldn’t anymore. I cried so much I ran out of tears.

“You want to talk about it?” Matt asks softly under his breath.

I let out a shaky sigh and shift slightly. I look him in the eyes for a second before letting my head fall forward closing my eyes. I know my eyes are probably red and puffy.

“I just..” I trail off, thinking of a way to describe this to Matt.

“I hate being an immigrant’s daughter..” I say slowly trying to figure out a way to understandably say this without sounding crazy or overly sensitive.

I feel Matt’s hand ghost over my cheek caressing my face gently. He picks up my head slowly so I’m looking at him. My eyes meet his as I try not to cry anymore.

“Talk to me, honey.” He says oh so sweetly.

“I just wish I was American.” I sob. Without even realizing tears were rolling down my face again.

Matt doesn’t say anything waiting for me to continue. He wipes away my tears gently, his eyes full of concern.

“I hate myself and everything I stand for.” I breathe out under my breath as if I’m terrified by that fact. And I am. I hate that I hate myself.

“Baby..” Matt whispers softly. He looks at me like I am everything. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters and me saying that I hate myself tears him apart.

“I don’t have a culture. I mean I do, but I’m a third culture kid, I’m not enough for either culture.” I sob. I can physically feel my bottom lip trembling.

“Baby, I love you for you.” Matt says again softly. He wipes away my tears.

“But I hate myself Matt. I hate the fact that I exist.” I breathe out. I close my eyes tightly, because after all, I could barely see anything through my tears anyway.

Matt, being the empath he is, was on the verge of crying too.

No American ever pronounces my name right, but the actual right way just sounds wrong at this point.

I will never find my name on those keychains. And while today, I don’t care about it, back when I was younger and everyone had those, I just couldn’t find one.

“Don’t say that” Matt breaths out. He was still actively wiping away my tears while trying not to cry himself.

“You don’t get it Matt. I’m the problem.” I breathe out harshly. “I feel like I always act like such a brat about it. But my parents had dreams too.” I breathe out.

I see a tear roll down Matt’s cheek and it feels like a slap across my face. I feel my stomach drop. I hurriedly put my hands on his face wiping away the tear while crying myself. Matt’s hands go to my waist holding me.

“Don’t say that.” He breathes out. “You’re allowed to feel things.”

Another wave of sadness washes over me. But before I can break out into sobs again he pulls me into him.

Matt cradles my head into his chest hugging me tightly. I feel safe in his arms. I know Matt loves me for me, but sometimes it still felt like a cruel joke.

Like when I was asked out in middle school as a joke. But we’ve been dating for almost a year now.

“I love your hair, I love your eyes, I love your face, I love your culture, I love your humor. I love you.” Matt assures me. He rubs my scalp gently as I continues to let out small sobs that shake my body.

“I love everything about you. I love you the way you are, and you know that.” He uses his other hand to rub my back comfortingly.

I continue to cry in his arms listening to the sweet nothings and the praises Matt whispers to me.

It hurts knowing I hurt him. And I really want to believe him, and I do. But I don’t agree.

After a while of crying I calm down again.

This is a topic I’ll never be able to talk about without crying. It’s a deep rooted pain.

Being how I am, I hate it.

After a while we move back to a laying down position. “We’ll talk about this later.” Matt assures firmly yet he was still looking at me kindly.

I simply nod. Matt turns the bedside lamp off. He pulls me closer to him. He cradles my head to his chest and I hug him back. I cling to him like my life depends on it.

I know it’s not going to be easy, but it’s exhausting to hate myself this much. I wish I didn’t. I really do.

Masterlist

A/N: All of us third culture kids have probably at some point have experienced some type of internalized racism. I wrote this in a fit of sadness after realising that my dreams are just dreams. I cried so many times while writing this. I hope you guys liked it 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo

#sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader smut #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo angst #angst #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

[chubypotato]

With an insecure girlfriend!

Including Umemiya, Sakura, super, kiryu, taiga

I'll make a part 2 with choji togame kaji and Shuhei ( I didn't want this one to be too long)

Request by our lovely @valenspuppy

Umemiya

He would at the same time understand and do not understand why you are insecure.

Don't get him wrong he thinks you are just as perfect as you are he just knows it can be hard to love ourself.

But he doesn't understand why you are insecure you are the some beautiful girl he ever saw in his life.

Would be the type to give you cute compliment about your insecurities just to show you how much he loves them.

Would definitely grow flower with meaning about his love for you.

One time you went crying on him cause you thought your insecurities made you less attractive

He spent the whole day cuddling with you and saying how much he love you and how much he thinks they even make you more attractive.

Sakura

He sure doesn't understand how you can be insecure about yourself.

I mean even though he is used to be mocked by other people based on his appearance he is not insecure about them. He was a bit but he choosed violence and show everyone they better shut up.

But for you he doesn't understand.

For him he is with the most beautiful person in the whole word. He's even lucky to have you by his side.

He 's actually not good to express his feeling and how to reassure you but he doesn't need to say it he shows it to you.

When you seems down about yourself he would give you comforting hugs. Being in his arm feels so good and protected.

He even tries to be more affectionate towards you to cheer you up. Even though he was more red than a tomato he stills tries his best.

If someone dared to make fun of you he would beat them up until you tell him to stop. No one makes fun of his girl.

Suo

Would definitely understand you could be insecure even though he thinks you shouldn't be.

Suo is a very smart guy and he loves teasing people especially you. So he knew before you has the chance to tell him. But he still waited for you to tell him.

He actually didn't want to start the subject cause he thought it would be better if it came from you.

So he waited. And one day you came talking to him about it.

He listened hugged you and comfort you. Telling you he understand but also that you shouldn't worry about them cause he thinks it makes you even cuter and even more you.

Would be the type to if you are insecure bout a part of your body to kiss you there or put his hand there. In a gentleman way.

He just wants you to see yourself the way he sees you.

Kiryu

Would be the one who gets it the more.

He is used to the fact people would make fun of his soft side and stuff like that in fight.

But he thinks you are so beautiful so lovely.

Would be the type to shower you with compliments ever chance he gets in public or not.

Line if you are walking in the room adn coming to see him he would be like "hello sweety how lovely you are today" or stuff like that.

He didn't know you were insecure to be honest he just knew when you came in a bad mood you know the type of someone ask you if you are okay you would cry. And that's what he did. He asked you if you were good and you immediately cried.

With no thought he took you in his arm and spend the day talking about it with him without breaker contacts one time.

He tries his best to show you you shouldn't be insecure and that's he loves you so much.

Taiga

Poor baby didn't even know. I mean for him you would be so perfect there are no way you could be insecure.

But when he knew he came talking directly talking to you about it.

He tries his best to understand but for him it doesn't make any sense.

If you are insecure about your body he would at first reassure you and if he doesn't work he would ask you if you wants him to build you a sport program or even tells you what's best to eat. If you say yes he would be with you at every step. Face timing you at every meals and be with you at every sport sceance.

If you are insecure about your personality he would tells you all your qualities to make you feel better and every part of your personality that he loves.

He wants you to understand you are just perfect.

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・

Im sorry guys it took me a lot of time to actually write this one I was in an exam period and Im still in.

So I would like to apologize in advance if I take time to write. It should be better at the end of the month.

Love you all and remember you are perfect just the way you are. 🤍

#anime #headcannons #windbreaker #windbreaker satoru nii x reader #windbreaker satorunii #x reader #as your boyfriend #kiryu #suo #hajime umemiya #suo hayato #hayato suo #sakura haruka #haruka sakura x reader #kiryu mitsuki #mitsuki kiryu #taiga tsugeura

[oblique-lane]

Sniper tf2 mentality

Today I will be talking about Sniper's personality because I often see people portraying him DRASTICALLY different abd I wanted to understand what's going on and why all of the interpretations are correct (in my opinion)

Let's name the most prominent thesises:

Sniper is shy and introverted.

Sniper is unhinged and bloodlusty and is annoyed by people.

Why do i think that these aren't exactly contradictory?

I think at this point it's safe to assume Sniper is autistic (I mean lol this is easier to prove than to disprove). As an autistic person myself, I can see why he could be perceived like that.

Sniper doesn't talk to people and mostly observes them and the situation. Very in tune with his profession. That, however, might be perceived as being shy or very introverted or both. People love talking and expect others to share information, yet Sniper never says half of the things he's thinking about.

But let me tell you, it's NOT because he's shy. If he was shy, it would show in his body language as being stiff and rigid. He's not. His body is pretty relaxed and takes enough space. Still crosses his arms, but in a "don't bother me" way, not a "please don't judge me" way.

He's just disinterested.

I relate to it a lot in real life! People at my job think I'm too shy to talk to them, but no, I just DON'T WANT TO. I'm not scared of any if you, there's just nothing to talk about. I don't know your business, you don't know mine, our interests don't collide. If I talked to you about my interests you wouldn't listen anyway. Small talk? Ew, are y kidding me?

However, I like to listen. I'm an extrovert personally (unexpected huh) so I love being around people, but it doesn't mean I have to takk to them. I'll just sponge the information they are babbling about so I know my community better. When I meet new group of people where everyone knows eachother but me, I'm not going to feel awkward, it's perfectly fine to observe.

Sniper seems to fit into this kind of behaviour too. So he's not shy in a social anxiety sense".

NOW LET'S TALK ABOUT THE BLOODLUST!!

Yeah you all know his in-game voicelines. You feel either horny or assaulted after he rolls these sadistic words on his tongue. Yes I said sadistic, are you gonna argue?

"We professionals don't give speeches we just take a shot" he says in the comics. OH YEAH? IS THAT WHY YOU HAVE THE MOST FUCKING VOICELINES OF ALL OF THEM??

Have you ever noticed how much attention he puts into saying how 'professional' he is? Like, yeah no shit, they all kinda are. But why, unlike other mercs, he insists on calling himself a professional with standards and morals, detached from emotions and feelings, so much???

There's literally no reason to be ashamed of being a killer and to admit that you enjoy killing people, you were hired to Mann Co. for that specifically!!!

My assumption: it's a personal disgust towards himself and his anger issues. I've said it before already and I will again.

His so called 'shadow side' that he suppresses so much. It loves to cause people pain, it loves releasing the inner anger, it is being feral and impulsive in nature. Sniper cannot let himself be like that for whatever reason. He's already built a clear picture of what he is in his head and he doesn't want to destroy that.

The only time he allows himself to be a monster is in the battle because it comes naturally. However, when it's not a situation of adrenaline rush, when people want to talk about his persona face to face, he starts to defend himself and bury his face under the lies he believes in.

And THIS is anxiety. To be scared to be truly perceived. Not like many people tried, but I assume he wouldn't like it.

Bro really thinks he doesn't have feelings lmaoooo imagine being so emotionally immature the only way to process your emotions is to shot a human dead.

So, is Sniper anxious? Yes. Is this social anxiety? No, he's not shy. Is he an unhinged murderer? Yes. Does he identify as one? No. It's really a little bit more complicated than the two thesises from the beginning.

He's a person. Obviously not mentally healthy. High dimensional. Can be potentially broken or healed in terms of a good character study.

I might be very wrong though and most of the assumptions are simply guessing by grasping the patterns, but usually when I analyze someone like thus, it turns out mostly right. But correct me if you feel like it.

#tf2 #tf2 sniper #sniper tf2 #just my rambling #I've been thinking about this mf a little bit too much #He is so NOT self aware #Can anyone see that???? #His childhood traumas were never addressed he's just suppressed them #I wish he had more backstory #Bleh

[alexa-fika]

Aight here me out

Buggy has a child but instead their like moody, grumpy and stuff (like Octavia and loona from helluva boss) but they love buggy and would do ANYTHING for him

Happy go lucky dad 🤝 looks like it would kill you would kill you child

Substitute Assistant ( Cross guild x f!child!reader)

A/N not gonna lie I totally forgot who loons was, it’s been a hot minute since I watched helluva, since we are talking about helluva boss here, specifically loona, do expect a few swear words here and there. This one is kinda a flop but hopefully it lives to your standards Cosmo, I am surprised it wasn’t a Whitebeard request 😂,

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Here you go, asshole,” Dokucha growled, throwing a stack of paper on Crocodile’s desk, a task that they had called her father to do

Crocodile lifts his gaze from his work to the child, taking another look at the stack that now lay on their desk

“Where is the clown?”

“Why the hell do you care?! You have your stupid reports, now leave my dad alone asshole!”

“Should a child your age be using such words?” The voice of the swordsman drawls from the sofa next to them

“Shouldn’t grown men be over bullying others like little children?” She snapped back

At that let out a low chuckle that slowly grew into a full-out laugh

“Well, Well seems the brat has more guts than that useless clown,” he

“Don’t call him that!”

“Would you prefer us we call him a coward instead?” Mihawk questioned, taking a sip from the wine in his hand as he continued observing the child’s rage bubble more and more

“Shut up! You assholes know nothing of Dad! He has done many things and gathered people of all kinds with his charisma alone; unlike you, he doesn’t have to pay off or bully people into being his followers!”

Crocodile lets out a dangerous smile at her words

“Funny seeing how it was your father who borrowed money from me, money that he lost and got him where he is now, so by all means, go ahead and tell me more about paying people off.”

“Just leave him alone; you got the business you wanted. Now leave him the hell alone.”

“No can do, little jester, see those people that your father won with his ‘charisma’ have named him the president of the guild; he’s not going anywhere,” Mihawk spoke

“Whether you like it or not, it was Buggy’s decisions that brought him here; he has no one to blame but himself,” he finished, swirling his cup around and downing the liquid inside

She growled, turning around and leaving the room only to be stopped by Crocodile’s voice

“Be a good child and bring me a light, will you?”

“Why the fuck would I do anything for the likes of you.”

He lets out a puff of smoke at her comment, staring lazily at her

“Because if you don’t, then I have no trouble calling your father in instead. While we’re at it, I might have a friendly chat with him about his brat’s behavior.”

She grits her teeth at his response, glaring at him as he chuckles in response

“When you return, I have a few other jobs for you to do, so don’t be long now.”

“Fine,” she snarls, stomping her way out of the office

-

“Dokucha, where did you run off to? I missed you, my little star!” Buggy cheered as the small girl entered the room

“I was busy,” she mumbled

“How was your day today, Dad?” She questioned

“It’s so much better now that my favorite act is here!” Launching himself toward her, babbling about the different things they could do on their next performance

She chuckled as he draped himself over her, hugging him and nuzzling into him

“Hey, Dad?”

“And then Richie would app-hah? Yeah? “He asked, pausing his rambling

“I love you.”

He looks at her for a few seconds before he begins coming apart in surprise, fumbling to put his body together

“Little Star! You are just the cutest,” he cried, hugging her tight

“Okay, don’t go too far, old man,” she grumbled, trying to get away from the suffocating embrace

“Of course, anything for my little star!”

Again this was kinda weak but I hope you like it, obviously Dokucha is more mellowed out compared to Loona, and she doesn’t have that tsundere side with Buggy , hope you find the dynamic interesting

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece x child!reader #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #mihawk fluff #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x child!reader #dracule mihawk #cross guild x reader #cross guild #sir crocodile x child!reader #sir crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x oc #mihawk imagine #mihawk scenario #mihawk x reader #buggy x you #buggy one piece #hawkeye mihawk #buggy x oc #mihawk #op mihawk

[libbys-braincell-loss]

i became inspired so heres a silly oneshot smg34 fic that also includes mario and meggy

---

This fic includes:

snowtrapped reference. Sorry yall </3

shitty grammar whenever mario speaks

---

SMG43 crush frustrations, a 2 1/2 part oneshot

---

Segment 1: SMG4 and Mario

---

SMG4 sits at his desk, making videos, as per usual. Working hard to appease the hell that is the YouTube algorithm, all that good stuff.

SMG4 is just focused on working on making a decent video, trying his hardest to work in peace.

Suddenly, the door breaks down for the 17th time this week (it's tuesday), and SMG4's idiot best friend Mario bursts in to disturb said peace.

"ES EM GEE FOUR" he yells, startling his friend.

SMG4 sighs. "Hey, Mario, what do you need?"

"I just wanted to see what you were doing :))" Mario replies.

"I'm just making videos, that's all," SMG4 says, attempting to regain focus on making the video. "I gotta finish as much as I can before I have to hang out with SMG3 later today"

"Ooooo, watcha gonna be doin?"

"3's just gonna be streaming the two of us messing around on Gmod. I think he wants to play prop hunt?"

"Mario played that one time with him. He's too good at it," Mario recalls.

"Heh, as if. He only won cuz he was against you," SMG4 exclaims. "He won't stand a chance going against me."

Mario peeks over the chair and observes SMG4 making his video.

"Can Mario help???" Mario asks.

"Hahaha, no," said SMG4. "You don't know shit about editing."

"Lol ur right, im just bored af and wanted to do something" Mario says, eyes crossing. "What video you makin"

"I'm remastering an old video called 'Charming Peach'; people seem to like when I make remasters of old videos," SMG4 responds.

"Oooooooooo" says Mario. "Can I suggest a video idea?"

"Y'know what, sure. Go ahead."

"Snowtrapped remaster :))))"

SMG4's eyes widen. He turns and looks at Mario in the crossed eyes and humongous mustache.

"Hell no!"

"Hell yeah :)"

"Why would you suggest that?! I'm not doing that!"

"Why not?"

SMG4 blinks. "Why do you think?"

Mario shrugs. "Because it's too cold?"

SMG4 face palms. "I forgot; you don't think."

"Awww :(" Mario frowns. "Thats mean :(("

"Dude, SMG3 and I literally have sex in that episode."

"And?"

SMG4 blinks.

Mario blinks in return.

"AND WE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN REMAKE THAT? What do you want me to say?" SMG4 exclaims.

"You didn't enjoy it?" Mario asks.

SMG4's face turns bright red. "MARIO!! Why the hell would you ask that?!"

Mario blinks. He grins. "You're avoiding the question"

"I'm not answering the question. I'm not remaking Snowtrapped, period. SMG3 and I could never relive those events again."

Mario blinks one eye after the other, like a frog.

"Do you like him?" Mario asks out of the blue.

"Huh??" SMG4 says, red creeping on his face.

"Do you like SMG3?" Mario asks.

"I mean, yeah... as a... friend, of course."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Mario's eyes narrow, and his head widens as he stares directly into SMG4's soul. "Mario doesn't buy it."

"What? What do you mean?!"

"I think you are gay :)"

"No. Also can you stop talking in emoticons?" SMG4 sighs.

"Come on!! I'm pretty sure you like him in a gay way"

"Why do you have to say it like that?"

"huh"

"...Nevermind. No, I don't like him like that." SMG4 chuckles, like he's trying to gaslight himself into believing the words he says. "Why would I? He berates me every day, I can't stand him sometimes... Why would I be in love with someone who constantly tries to do some bullshit to piss me off?"

"But when you do get along, what then?"

SMG4 opens his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I just... I..."

Mario smiles really wide. "Youuuu liiikkkeee himmmm!"

"Mario, quit it!"

"Youuu dooooo :)"

"MARIO!"

"Youuuu likeee yourr rivaaaaalll :)))))"

SMG4 sighs, tired of trying to convince Mario otherwise. "Fine, you caught me. Yes, I may or may not have developed a crush on SMG3..."

Mario gasps with the utmost glee in his eyes.

"I KNEW IT!"

"Yeah, but you BETTER NOT TELL A SOUL!!" SMG4 puts a firm hand on Mario's shoulder and points at him aggressively.

Mario frowns. "you're no fun"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just don't want word to spread and for SMG3 to find out. Then he will really hate me, and not in the joking way he usually does."

"You think he hates you?" Mario tilts his head

"...Not really, but..."

"Then tell him!" Mario says.

"Haha, hell no. He is my rival, and even though we're able to... tolerate... each other for enough time, but SMG3 is very keen to remind me that we are 'rivals', and refuses to admit that we are friends, no matter how much we get close to admitting we are friends."

SMG4 looks down. "I do really like him, I just... I have no way of knowing if he does like me at all, and if he is being serious when he shit talks me. Maybe he thinks and talks about how stupid I am when I'm not hanging out with him. He probably hates me, with how much he berates me. Why would I want someone who hates me?"

Mario blinks. "You are dumping all this info on someone who has zero advice for you" he says.

SMG4 smiles sadly. "My bad. I just... it's been eating me up inside, I just wanted to vent about it."

"Its ok :) mario can try to give advice if you want!" Mario says.

SMG4 sighs. "Go ahead."

"Mario thinks that if SMG3 hated you so much, he wouldn't go out of his way to be around you"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"He frequently shows up to hang out with you, he saves you, he talks about you a lot..."

"Wait, he does?"

"Yeah! I was waiting to get a bomb at his coffee shop and he was in a corner writing in his journal again, and he was saying everything he was writing out loud; he was saying 'I'm excited to hang out with smg4 tomorrow, we gonna play some gmod together and im totally gonna beat his ass at prop hunt, hes gonna be so mad itll be so funny, seeing his face so angry is so entertaining-' and then he stopped writing cuz he saw me waiting for my bomb order and he shoo'd me out of there and i didn't get my bomb"

SMG4 blushes. "Huh. So, he does shit talk me outside of my earshot, but in a positive way..." He smiles ear to ear. "Mario, honestly, I cannot believe I'm saying this, but your advice actually helped. I think my intrusive thoughts were just trying to lie to me. I needed to hear that."

"Yay! Mario's glad he could help :)" Mario says, smiling. "This is my character development! I am therapist :)"

SMG4 chuckles. "Mario, I would not trust you as a therapist 100% of the time."

Mario smirks. "But you can trust SMG3 as your therapist-"

SMG4 punches Mario's arm "Shush. This stays between us, okay?"

"yeah B) i gotchu"

"Thanks, man."

---

Segment 2: SMG3 and Meggy

---

Meggy steps into SMG3's coffee shop, 3's Coffee and Bombs. The cafe was very empty, there was little to no people there.

"Hello? SMG3?" she calls out.

SMG3 pops out from the kitchen.

"Ah, Meggy! Welcome to 3's Coffee and Bomb's!" SMG3 exclaims with a grand flourish. "How may I serve you?"

"Hey dude, I came here two days ago," Meggy says, deadpan. "You don't need to make a grand spectacle everytime I show up."

"Yeah, yeah. What'll it be? Coffee or bombs?"

"I'd like some coffee today. I think I'm gonna go for some black coffee today."

"Daring today, aren't we?" SMG3 says, in a sarcastic tone.

"Look, I'm trying to expand my horizons. Try new things. Every time I drink coffee, it's sweet as hell. I'mma take something bitter for once."

"If you say so," SMG3 says.

SMG3 makes Meggy her coffee and Meggy gives him his money. SMG3's watch beeps.

"Oh! Looks like it's break time!" he says.

"Nice! Care to join me?" Meggy suggests.

"Sure, why not," SMG3 says, shrugging. He makes himself some coffee of his own and sits at a table across from Meggy.

"I heard you have plans on doing a stream collab with SMG4 today," Meggy comments. "You guys are playing Gmod, right?"

"Yeah!" SMG3 sips his coffee. "I'm gonna kick his ass in prop hunt. He will be so pissed."

"Haha, I see," Meggy says, taking a sip of her coffee. She spits it back into the cup.

"Rude," SMG3 frowns.

"It's not that you're bad at making coffee, it's that black coffee isn't the right coffee for me," Meggy responds, also frowninh. "Don't take so much offense to everything."

"Welp." SMG3 leans back in his chair. "I'm excited. I can't wait to absolutely destroy his ass in games I'm goated at."

"Aren't you just happy you get to hang out with 4?" Meggy remarks.

"...Hanging out with him to make him look like a loser on stream, yes!" SMG3 responds.

Meggy smirks. "I think you do enjoy his company."

SMG3 studies a speck on the ceiling. "Says who?"

"Says me. I know you like him."

SMG3's face immediately turns bright red.

"NUH UH!" SMG3 exclaims. "He's stupid and a moron and a loser! W-why would I be attracted to a- a loser like him?!"

Meggy looks him dead in the eye. "I was gonna say opposites attract, but you guys are both oblivious AND obvious dumbasses, so you guys have more in common than you like to admit."

SMG3 looks away. "I don't like him. He probably hates me, with how much I berate him. Why would I want someone who hates me?"

Meggy smiles.

"3, I think 4 is just as in love with you as you are with him."

"What makes you think I like him?" quizzes SMG3.

"Oh, you constantly talk about how excited you are to do anything with him, you pout when he's not around, and you're usually the first person to try to instigate helping him as soon as he's in trouble," Meggy recounts.

SMG3 blushes. "We're Meme Guardians; if one of us isn't around, our powers are very minimal. I'm just looking out for him because I don't know what happens to one Meme Guardian the moment his counterpart is dead, and I don't want to find out."

"Awww, you care about him!" Meggy smiles.

"Just talk to him, dumbass," Meggy said. "He usually functions better once people communicate their issues with him. If you ask if you take things too far, and if he feels hurt by your words, talking it out is the right thing."

"Shush. So what if I do? He would never like me back. He probably can't stand me. I berate and belittle him too much. I know, I know, it's bad, but... I don't know how to communicate appreciation to people I care about. Teasing is all I know, but I never know if I've pushed it's limit-"

"But that's so difficult! I'm no good at communication!" SMG3 complains.

"You're a therapist! This is the type of advice you give your patients!" Meggy responds.

"I'm a hypocrite!" SMG3 wails.

"Look, just talk to him at some point. Maybe after the stream is over, just take some time out of your day to figure out how SMG4 feels about your constant teasing, then go from there."

"Yeah. Y'know what, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks Meggy."

"No problem! And, while you're at it, you should totally go for it!" Meggy exclaims, beaming.

"Meggy..." SMG3 sighs.

"I know you like him, you can't keep hiding."

SMG3 groans even louder.

"Yes, but you tell no one, okay?" SMG3 orders.

"Of course," Meggy says, smiling.

---

SMG4 and SMG3 are up in SMG4's office, playing and streaming Gmod shenanigans. Mario is sitting on the couch in the gaming room, watching TV. Meggy comes in and joins Mario on the couch.

"SMG4 and SMG3 can't be any more obvious, can they?" she remarks.

"they gay as hell," Mario agrees.

"3 confirmed he does like 4," Meggy says.

Mario laughs maliciously.

"What?" asks Meggy.

"mario also got SMG4 to confirm he likes 3 >:)," Mario says.

"Ha," Meggy says, "Cool. Do you think they'll ever actually get together?"

"hmmmmmm, Maybe!" Mario answers. "But if they don't, it's incredibly funny to watch their gay struggling, so we can keep watching it for a while"

"I like your thinking, Red," Meggy smirks. "Let's just let them be for the time being."

#smg4 #smg3 #smg4 x smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 #smg4 mario #smg4 meggy #meggy spletzer

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/745594646225354752/if-i-ran-a-business-in-sloth-id-make-a-type-of?source=share

Hey same anon. so I finally had some time to write this, it's short and it's sfw though so forgive if you wanted something spicy. I tried to make this reader friendly too.

"M-m-madame- Forgive me for bothering you since you're resting right now, but its urgent!" The nervous greed demon stood in front of you looked like he was about to fall apart any second. It's not like him, he's usually calm and collected.

"What is it now, Martin?" I asked with monotone voice. Sitting at my desk, I set aside my drink to save for later. This better be good.

"We have a special guest at the inn, ma'am. A really important guest. And they wish to speak to you."

"Who is it? Tell them my shift is ov-"

"It's the icon of Sloth!" Martin interrupted.

Silence. My eyes widen from what I heard. A royal guest. Here at this small inn of all places. I stood up from my desk and calmy went over to put on my favorite robe. Without saying anything I left my room. Martin followed behind me.

Luckily, it's not busy at this hour at the inn. Some sloth demons with humans they rented passed by. Sometimes other types visit here too. A large buff wrath demon holding a small demon by the scruff of their neck walked towards us.

"Boss, this one tried to kill one of the humans. What do you want me to do with them?" The Wrath demon spoke.

"Your choice, just get rid of them, permanently, Uthin." I just waved my hand and continued walking.

We entered the lobby. I shoo 'ed Martin to return to the front desk. I immediately noticed a huge demon lying down in the waiting area. The air around us smelled sweet, and fragrant. Very strong and soothing. It feels as if you could sleep instantly in one blink. I can feel my energy draining really fast. Any longer my muscles might betray me, and I'll collapse on the floor. That must be the Icon of Sloth.

I approached the Icon. I put on a tired smile as I made a low bow.

"Greetings, your majesty. A thousand pardons for making you wait. Welcome to the Sleep-Inn. How can I help you this evening?"

There was a long silence from the Icon. I can't tell if he's even looking at me with the veil covering his face. My heart was pounding in my chest. Did I say or do something wrong? Maybe if-

"I want to rent you for the night." The icon rumbled in a soft voice.

I just wanted to finish my drink.

------

Notes:

The names I gave to the demons I just pulled out of my ass. Same with the Inn's name.

Hope I didn't make Zizz too ooc. I kinda guess what it'd feel like if you get too close to Zizz.

It's up to others on what happens next. I just wanted to get this short of my chest.

[No, I think you did a fine job with Zizz! 👌 Also, "Sleep-Inn", sleepin'?? Anon your brain is massive.]

Zizz has heard of your little establishment for a decent while before visiting it, most likely. He did his research, and he decided it was worth his time.

Really, you should be flattered for several reasons here- It's rare for King Zizz to personally visit a location instead of ordering people to come to him, so the fact that he showed up in person is already a serious indicator of interest. The fact that he chose you immediately without even sparing the others any mind is also cause for great flattery needless to say.

For all intents and purposes, Zizz is as courteous as an exemplary customer, although he would prefer to bring you to his mansion than remain in your establishment. The King promises you gentle, soothing dreams, his hold of you loving and careful as he sighs his contentment. His veil is lifted, and in the darkness, Zizz places mellowing kisses along your skin. His touch is always slow and prolonged, and while he's very much hard against you, you can deny him sex.

But know that this will repeat itself every single time he rents you. There will come a time where you spend more nights with him than you do with your workers.

Zizz can keep you if he wants. You know this. He knows you do. There'd be nothing and no one to oppose him.

So really, tell him no all you want when his claws flirt with your mons, shift away when his cock presses against the small of your back and turn your lips away from his kisses- You know you'll just end back here again the next night, and your will isn't infinite.

It's certainly not enough to rival Zizz's.

#Zizz oc

[snakes-are-the-best]

What's up with Alastor and Husk? Hazbin Hotel Theory (More like questions)

So I was re-watching Hazbin Hotel and got a few questions. So we all know that Alastor is a narcissistic, self-centered, sarcastic person that enjoys looking down on others. But we also know that he HATES being in the “shadows” of other people. He hates it when Carmilla says she doesn’t care he is back (episode 3), he hates Lucifer as soon as he lays his eyes on him (Lucifer is the king of hell, leagues above Alastor) (episode 5), and most of all, he hates being on someone’s leash. He despises being put in this position so much, he threatens to kill Husk were he to make such a remark ever again. (episode 5) And this last part got me thinking.

Considering his reaction, we can safely conclude, that Alastor is faaar from being ok with someone controlling him. The mere mention of this fact triggers an outburst of rage and cruelty. He also desperately tries to find “a backdoor to the constraints of the deal” (musical mental breakdown, episode 8). So if this is the case, he would never willingly tell anyone about it. So why does Husk know this in the first place? Alastor himself would never tell him, if only for his own prideful nature, his ego would never allow him to share such an information. Plus, he owns Husk. It’s not like Husk is his equal. So how did this happen? Was Husk there when the deal was struck?

To further add to my notice, in episode 5, when Husk talks about Alastor being gone, he hesitates a bit at the start, something he never does with anyone. In the earlier episodes, he openly curses in front of Alastor and does not care two pence about his reaction. In episode one, he loudly complains about being forced to play bartender with Alastor in the room. Throughout the series, he constantly stays in a foul mood and does not even try to make an actual effort, just does what he is told to.  Here, however, he takes a breath before talking, almost like he understands it’s a delicate matter. Then, when he mentions “it’s not like anyone knows why” his tone sounds like HE knows. So here is my first question: how and why does Husk know about Alastor’s deal and his absence period?

Secondly, once again taking Alastor’s disdain of being on a leash into consideration, how is Husk still alive? Killing him at this point in the story is a no go, that would arise questions from everyone and would risk Charlie’s anger and possible exclusion of Alastor from the hotel and its business. I am talking about the period before Alastor came to the hotel. Even if his deal (according to some popular theories) obliged him to go straight to the hotel after his return, there was no need to pull Husk into this equation. He could have summoned any other minion as a bartender and then been on his merry way to kill Husk. And sure, I’ve seen people say, why would he kill Husk when he already owns his soul and has him frightened? Well, the thing is, Husk isn’t exactly forbidden from talking about the deal from what we’ve seen (he openly mentions the leash in front of Alastor), so what if, one day, he said "screw it" and, one way or another, shared the details of the deal with someone like Vox? And even if he couldn’t do that, wouldn’t it be safer to erase the only known person that has the information about the leash Alastor so despises? Would losing one soul not be better than the potential threat to the deal’s secrecy? Especially, when the said person absolutely HATES Alastor’s guts? Could there be a deeper connection to these two than just a slave and an owner? Maybe they knew each other when they were alive? Both lived sometime during the 1900-1930s.

In conclusion, I present two questions: why and how does Husk know about Alastor’s deal and why is he not dead yet?         

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel carmilla #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel vox #alastor's deal #radio demon #husker #alastor #alastor the radio demon #please share your thoughts #this is my first theory #help

[rey-129-fan]

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU

Part 1

Wow, okay, people seem to really like this. Awesome! Whelp, here's part 2!

“Alright, order.  Order.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a Triple Nasty with cheese, extra mustard and pickles.” Laughs rang out at Dash’s remark as everyone settled in to their seats.  Sam, who stood at the front of the room by a blackboard, just gave the quarterback a flat look while Danny and Tucker snickered at the teacher’s desk.  The group was meeting in an empty classroom at Casper since most were still Casper students, at least for another couple of months until graduation.  Jazz and Kyle, both of whom were attending school in Gotham, were dropping in to visit and attend the meeting.

“We are now beginning the first meeting for the Green Amity Co-o-”

“Oh, we are not calling it that!” Paulina cried out.  Sam’s eye twitched and started to glow slightly as those around the Latina nodded in agreement.

Jazz quickly stepped in.  “While naming something Green in a city that has a known meta Eco-terrorist might not be a good idea, we can discuss names later.  For now, let’s focus on more important matters for the co-op.”

“Right,” Sam sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders.  “So has everyone had a chance to look over the info and pictures Jazz and Kyle were able to gather?”  Getting various conformations, the goth nodded. “Does anyone have any objections on using the building as a Gotham based co-op?”

“Not really.”

“Nope.” 

“None from me.”

“Okay, so we’ll put down an offer to buy the building,” Sam nodded before shuffling around some papers in her hands.  “Next on the agenda is rent.”

“Won’t we own the building?  Why would we need to pay rent?” Dash asked.  Kwan nodded while several others in the group just dropped their heads.

“Because we need to pay for things like utilities and taxes,” Valarie shot back, arms crossed as she stared down her former friend group.

“Not to mention that we should collect some money for potential repairs that will be needed in the future,” Wes added, nodding.  Dash turned and glared at both of them.

“As Val and Wes said, we may own the building, but we still need to gather money to pay for things like water, electricity, internet.  Things needed to make the building usable,” Jazz explained in a less condescending tone, mullifying the blond.

“So we need to figure out how much each utility is and split it between everyone, with a little extra on top to make a fund for repairs?” Danny clarified.

“That is a start, but some people will use more of some things than others.”

“Well, we can always start with it and adjust as we get a better idea of how much it costs and who uses up what amount,” Star said as she stood up and walked over to the board.  She picked up a piece of chalk and began writing down numbers.  “Do we know how much we have to pay for property tax?  From what I could find on the internet, the average cost of utilities in Gotham is about $118 a month, give or take.”

“That lines up with what I saw too, though that doesn’t include internet or phone plans,” Val nodded.

“Well, our phone plans aren’t likely to change, so we don’t need to worry about that.  Most internet plans start about $40 a month,” Tucker added.  Star nodded and added the 40.

“As for property taxes, given the building’s estimated amount, it would be about $15,900 a year, which is paid quarterly.”

Star continued writing.  “So 15,900 a year is 1325 a month.  We currently have 11 people, so that’d be 120.45 per person per month just in taxes.”

“So utilities plus internet and taxes would put us at about $242 a month.”

“Don’t forget insurance and repairs.  Gotham isn’t the safest place, what with all the supervillains,” Danny added.

“Never mind random ghosts dropping in just to fight Fenton.  We’re probably going to have to repair the place more often than the average,” Kwan nodded.

“Hey!  Don’t pin the property damage from ghost fights on me!  It’s mostly the GIW doing that!”

“We know, Danny, but you can’t deny that there are going to be at least a few ghosts that will come just to fight, and the GIW are likely to follow them.”  Danny crossed his arms and grumbled, but conceded.

“We should just double the amount we have for now.  That way we can cover the basics and have enough to cover anything that could come up, while most can afford it with a part-time job,” Tucker suggested.

“It’s a start,” Jazz agreed.

“And if we need to adjust it, we can always discuss it again,”Mikey pointed out.

“Alright, so all in favor of starting rent at $485 a month, raise your hand.” Sam counted the hands in the air.  Eleven.  “Very well.  Up Next: rules.”

“Oh come on!  We’re no longer kids and are going to college!  Why would you wanna create rules?!” Dash protested.

“Just because we’re adults now doesn’t mean that there aren’t still rules we have to follow,” Jazz responded.  “Pretty much any place you could live would have quiet hours and cleanliness requirements.  Plus I’m pretty sure there are places or things that you wouldn’t want others to mess with.” More grumbling was heard but no more protests.  “Now, from what I’ve observed and read on the internet, in general quiet hours are generally between 10-11 pm to about 8 am during the week, with it rolling back an hour on the weekends.  I don’t need it to be that strict, but I would like to have some quiet by the time I’m going to sleep.”

“What exactly do quiet hours entail?  Is it like a curfew?” Mikey asked, pushing up his glasses and looking at the two actual college students.

“Nah man, they’re just the hours you have to be quiet for.  Ya can do whatever ya want, so long as yer not disturbing anyone or keeping them up.  Just don’t do anything that’ll get the cops or Bats on ya, and yer good,” Kyle explained.

“Sweet!”

“So what should these quiet hours be?  Not going to lie, but midnight seems like a good start, especially if you have early morning classes,” Wes spoke up.

“Midnight is good for me.”

“Aw, but what if we want to have a party!”

“Well, if you start at 8, that gives you four hours,” Sam explained, raising her eyebrow.

“A 4 hour party seems to be enough, especially since not all of us would want to have a crazy party outside our door all night,” Val stated, glaring at Dash and Paulina.

“It seems common consensus is quiet by midnight.  What about when they end?”

“Well, most of us will likely have classes starting by 9.  Including travel time and getting ready, we’re likely to be up around 8 or so.  That’d give us 8 hours of quiet to study and fall asleep.”

“So midnight to 8 am for quiet hours?  Any objections?” None were made.

The meeting continued on in much the same way, with only a few protests to some rules, mostly related to shared chores and the creation of a chore schedule.  But these protests were quickly silenced by a glare from Valarie that slowly glowed a slight red the more protests were made.

“Alright, I think we’ve covered everything we set out for today’s meeting,” Jazz said, tapping some papers against the desk she sat at.  She took over the meeting as Sam grew more annoyed.  The goth was now sitting between Danny and Tucker, who were both offering small touches of comfort.  “Remember, if you have any questions, share them in the discord server.  And if you have any suggestions for a name, please feel free to send them to Wes, who will compile them into a poll so we can vote on them in a week.  Now, would anyone like to add anything else?”

A few mutters and shakes were the answer.

“Very well, that concludes this meeting.  Hope everyone has a good summer, and when we next meet, hopefully, it should be in our new building.”

***

Did I seriously just write 1363 more words of set up? Yes, yes I did. I have no regrets. We should be in Gotham starting next chapter and get up to the shenanigans then.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there! I started writing this while I was baking a pie for my own mother.

I am going back and forth on whether Phantom Planet is canon or not, but either way, all of Amity Park knows about Danny in this, but not the outside world, and especially not the GIW. While I do read a lot of bad parent Maddie and Jack, I much prefer to have them as good parents that love and accept both Danny and his little clone/cousin/sister.

Sorry guys, but Bruce is not adopting either Phantom.

Again, feel free to leave suggestions for names for the Co-op, as well as for this little AU itself. Also, suggestions for shenanigans and powers our liminal teens might have outside just glowing eyes.

#liminal amity park #dp x dc crossover #more dp in this #just dialogue #so much dialogue and set up #i regret nothing #no beta we die like danny and jason #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dash #kwan #paulina sanchez #star #valarie gray #mikey #wes weston #kyle weston #amity park teens getting ready for college #part 2 of idk how many

[bethanydelleman]

Pssstt what do you think of Eloise Bridgerton?

Lots of people seem to love her and her outspokenness and I understand that the show is a very fictional very fanfiction fiction set in a very fanfiction-y Regency era and her dissatisfaction of her life as a woman is justified

But

Am I the only one who distastes her attitude? She's rude. She doesn't care about other people's feelings, not even her own mother or her sister, Daphne who yes has very different views about marriage compared to her but I think most of the time Daphne is nice towards her and all that she can spout is how she's Different and she doesn't want to marry that men had it so much better than women. It's giving very condescending energy

She's not wrong about the unfairness of women's situation but she's also a higher rank woman and it's just....*frustrated noise, I wish she's written for the show as less of a child who has just learned of the phrase 'women's right' who's made it their entire personality and more of a person who's conscious of the differences in privilege between men and women and tries to change that, emphasize in 'tries' instead of whatever she's supposed to be- whiny and rude

If she's the face of women's right movement, I'll be fine with it, but it's also very annoying

Or

Am I just weird for not liking her because she actually has some really good points? Idk

I find Eloise Bridgerton incredibly annoying and I'm not sure if the show is self-aware enough to know that they made her extremely irritating. And this also comes back to my girl sad about arranged marriage post... Caveat that it's been a while since I watched S1 & S2 of Bridgerton and I won't be watching 3 because I hated 2.

Eloise sounds and acts like an incredibly entitled university student who has never had a paying job. The stuff she says is "right" in a modern sense, or at least takes a modern perspective when it comes to women's rights, but it sounds canned given the imagined era. The big problem is that as far as I remember, Eloise only cares about women, mostly herself, and not about class. Her discovery during her investigation that servants don't have the time to publish a paper could have led to her realizing something, but it didn't. She whines about her "plight" but doesn't seem to have any real compassion for frankly anyone. It's an entirely selfish one woman campaign.

The fact is, Eloise comes from a very rich family and her siblings are very kind, she doesn't have to marry. If she is like any Jane Austen heroine, it's Emma. Austen made Emma sympathetic by showing an Emma who doesn't whine at all, but suffers from the weight of her duty and limited options. Jane Fairfax was the one who very occasionally complained about her lot in life, and her future was bleak. Being a governess sucked and was usually a dead-end job that required a ton of work.

Eloise could have been great. They could have put the words of real women's rights activists from her time period in her mouth, like Mary Wollstonecraft. They could have even borrowed from Jane Austen, who has many women beg to be regarded as "rational creatures" who know their own hearts. Instead, she feels like a hollow shell of empty rhetoric, a petulant child with no compassion for anyone but herself, and a mouthpiece of hackneyed modern sentiments.

So yeah I'm with you.

#question response #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #I know it's imagined but at least give this character some compassion #and if you are going to imagine have her angry for the poor too