#sma matt

[smokeflix]

Lily Collins is the daughter of the three-term president of the Beverly Hills Women's Club and of the author of this famous song. Oh, she can play the rich bitch. Because she is married to Jesse Plemons, a full-on head-up-ass "tech billionaire" who somehow skipped the bodyguard detail. Good thing, or we'd not have this fine item of California neo-noir. Watch it without interruption: Windfall rewards the through-viewing with genuinely earned surprises.

You could swap Ryan Gosling for Jason Segel (you oughtn't: Segel co-wrote the story) and only notice a change in height. Plemons and Matt Damon have a film to make together, obviously.

The prolific Omar Leyva is perfect. —Margaret Yang

#cultural hegemony #yes #smokeflix #margaret yang #lily collins #jesse plemons #ryan gosling #jason segel #matt damon #omar leyva #windfall movie #sma #lka #mla #lisas #lucybob #funny

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor.  You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil fic #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock hurt/comfort #matt murdock love of my life #frank castle #karen page #foggy nelson #marvel fic #mcu fanfic #marvel comics #hard of hearing!reader #hoh!reader #deaf!reader

[cindylcuwho]

¡ purely nonsense , prologue ♥︎ !

“ ���.‧ i don’t even know , im talking nonsense ‧. ⭒ “

01 — 02 — more to come 🥥

* ⋆ . · ⋆ y/n laid on her stomach, her left thumb mindlessly scrolled through tiktoks, occasionally doubling tapping to heart entertaining videos.

after seeing the fifth edit of herself, which used similar clips to the ones before, she closed tiktok and opened twitter in hopes of better entertainment.

always wanting to be in touch with her fans, she regularly viewed her mentions and right now was no different. many fans were tagging her in late album reviews, random photos and mindless tweets, the occasional hate tag, and some begging for a collab with varies of different artists.

one mentions caught her eye. well, multiple, actually. the first three began the in similar ways, “ @ y/nsmusical omg ?!! “ . she refreshed the page, thinking that twitter was just glitching and showing the same tweet over and over. though the mention didn’t go away, in fact more popped up.

she clicked on the top one and it led her to a 45 second clip of three random strangers that shared the same face.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

“growing up, i had the fattest crush on marge from the simpsons” the guy wearing a sky blue hoodie with ‘fresh love’ printed on the front joked.

the camera switched, showing off the blonde version of the guy before, except he was wearing a plain white shirt. “can we be honest? homer would be a huge sma—“

the other two began bursting out laughing, not letting him finish the sentence. the blonde giggled along with them, “what, i thought dad bods were in right now?”

“nick, no!” one of them cried out, still laughing. “as if any of your celebrity crushes are any better?!” ‘nick’ defended.

the one wearing a backwards pink trucker hat moved his mic closer, staring nick dead in the eyes. “are you calling mine –who is a grammy nominee and an it girl since childhood– as bad as a yellow cartoon?!“

“yours hasn’t changed since you were eleven, chris! its time to move on, buddy!” blue hoodie guy snorted out. he looked at the camera with a shrug, “he’s been obsessed with y/n carpenter since.. i wanna say a little before girl meets world and that ended, what? 2017?”

chris jumped up and down his seat, “why’re we name dropping?? matt, stopp!” he exclaimed. “damn, not even gonna deny the allegations, christopher?”

chris looked down at the table, a rosy blush creeped on his cheeks as he thought of the words.

“there’s nothing to deny.. y/ns influence is probably the reason i’m the man that i am, and you know what? she’s still doing great things and thriving.”

nick gasped, “oh!,” he tapped on the table, reminded of something, “she’s supposed to be releasing an album hella soon– are you gonna be streaming?”

chris smirked, “of course, anything to support my girl.” nick and matt let out an ‘ooo’ at their younger brothers sudden boldness.

“your girl?” matt scoffed, challenging his brothers attitude. chris nodded, arms crossed. “y/n doesn’t know you exist, kid.” he reminded.

“she will, and then we’ll get married and i’ll star in the reboot season of girl meets world. that’s been the dream.” chris listed off his plans. “marriage before the first date is crazy,” nick stated.

the three began changing the subject, which was when the clip ended.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

y/n exited the video tab, a small smile rested on her face. she knew there was definitely fans that stuck around from her younger acting years, fans that were other influencers, and definitely fans that believed they could steal her heart, but the cockiness from this ‘chris’ guy was undeniably kind of attractive.

‘who is he?’ she wondered. though intrigued, y/n was too lazy to go on another deep google search about someone so she stuck to what would have the best and quickest response.

tweeting out to her fans.

her thumbs tapped for a minute, before hitting ‘tweet’, knowing there was no turning back.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

within seconds people were already responding with numerous answers.

↳ @ y/nsemails : OH MY GOD WHAT

↳ @ nessabarrett : your future husband apparently ⁉️ ↻ @ynsmusical : damnit thought i had a chance to relate to ylm

↳ @ sturnstar : which one of yall snitched 😭

↳ @ beybayboo : search sturniolo triplets on youtube !! ↻ @ynsmusical : finally a real answer 😻😻

↳ randomuzer : oooo chris is in trouble 😮‍💨

↳ user123 : pls don’t lower your standards to some youtuber 🤢🤢 ↻ @ chrissbaby : calm down she was just asking who he was ..

↳ @ lilnasx : industry baby reference 😌 ↻ @ y/nsmusical : ofccc ur always on repeat ❣️

↳ @ grlm33tswrld : WAIT OMG WE NEED A SHIP NAME ↻ @ lo0kingaty/n : no we do not !!

↳ @ billieeilish : did we just find whose house your sock is at ?? ↻ @ y/nmusical : shh you’re leaking my music thats illegal 😞😞

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

sturniolo triplets. well yeah it made sense they were, they had the same face how did that not click?

youtube was immediately opened, the display showing off their channel that already had a pretty decent amount of subscribers.

somehow, innocently wanting to know who this random guy is turned into binge watching his and his triplet brothers youtube videos.

y/n wouldn’t deny, they were definitely funny– and quite loud. chris’s energy in the 20 minute long videos matched hers, partially confirming that her influence truly did influence the man he is today.

she was laughing at whatever nonsense chris was saying, nick and matt obviously did not care with the expressions on their face. the moment got cut short when her phone began to ring, her good friend billie calling.

“hey!” she spoke. “hey, would you mind coming to the studio real quick? it’s for the album.”

y/n sat up on the edge of her bed, praying nothing was wrong with it. it was supposed to come out within the following month. what if all the files were deleted? or even worse, what if songs were leaked.

“i thought today was my day off?” she rested her phone on her white nightstand, putting it speaker on so she can slip on a random pair of socks.

“it is- but don’t worry, we just need to record some extra vocals, nothing too big and we’ll be out of there within 20.” billie reassured.

she nodded, already walking out to her car. billie had already hung up, letting y/n hook the bluetooth from her phone up to her car to play music.

her right hand rested on the stick shift, her left currently swiping through apps. she was about to swipe up on instagram, but something told her not to.

she had to be in the studio within ten minutes, this would only take a couple of seconds, right? typing in the search bar, his account was the first to pop up.

y/n debated with herself in her head. there’s no real point in doing this, this puts him in a 50/50 spotlight and could cause rumors on top of rumors.

rolling her eyes and ignoring the doubtful thoughts, she pressed the button and exited the app, going back to spotify to play her favorite playlist as she drove.

‘ y/nsmusical began following christophersturniolo ‘

— ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ dedicated to , and idea created by @freshloveee :)

— ꒰ 💭 ꒱ was so excited to write this- sorry that the ending kind of drags on, i didn’t know how to end it lmaoo! how we feelin’ though ? (comment if you wanna be added to a taglist- i might do one for this)

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo snaps #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo series #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sabrina carpenter #nonsense #emails i can't send #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

[nancydrewwouldnever]

So Travis and Taylor are PR because he's about to get SMA. Makes sense.

I think it's a more layered situation, and both of them benefit. First, I think he's looking to build his profile before retiring from the NFL (and, honestly, I think that's happening sooner than people think, because I have this feeling he and Jason are retiring together). What better way to build your profile then to date one of the most famous women in the world? And, if it does turn out this is leading up to the SMA title, then what good timing. I think for her it's about cleaning out lingering remembrances in the public of Matt Healy, and also good PR build to her movie premiering. For both of them it's about introducing themselves to sectors of the GP who don't really know them; people outside of NFL fans for him, her with the NFL fans. And, see - it worked.

#ask

[dwntwn-strnlo]

Mood board idea 💡💡

Island/tropical vibes with Chris or Matt

With a surfboard 🙏🙏

you js drop in, smack the lip wapah! drop in, sma-wapah!!

augh hes so augh

I PROMISE ILL MAKE A CHRIS MOODBOARD SOON 😭😭

#idk how to swim #ask #...he writes her love letters... #lvrsparadise! #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo moodboard #moodboard

[vinnysimmer]

My Mystery Stories #2

Capítulo 6: Os Suspeitos (Parte 3): Os Vizinhos

Depois de interrogar os vizinhos mais próximos, Luke e Fernando já começavam a notar que o iceberg que era Judith Ward, era mais profundo do que imaginava. Ela tinha mais vontade de machucar seus vizinhos do que os próprios - ou talvez, Luke apenas não queria imaginar que seu primo, o cantor Hector García, e o seu ex-affair, Luca Maglioni, pudessem estar envolvidos em um crime hediondo, mas em compensação, os vizinhos estavam entregando mais do que os familiares. A teoria de Luke e Fernando começou a ganhar mais forma depois que começaram a interrogar a vizinha que Judith parecia odiar mais.

"Octavia Moon: A vizinha fofoqueira que parece enxergar somente a minha casa nesse lugar! Eu nunca imaginei que viria uma subcelebridade como ela rodeando a minha casa toda manhã e toda tarde, é como se tivesse um corpo enterrado no meu quintal e ela fosse um maldito abutre decidido a achar e me entregar! Eu sei que ela está atrás de uma história nova pra escrever, mas ela não irá escrever sobre a minha vida, só por cima do meu cadáver!" - Do Diário de Judy.

"Eu estava escrevendo o meu novo romance até às 7:50 da manhã, então eu tomei meu café junto com o Orange e o preparei para levá-lo a escola. Eu estava passando pela casa da Judith com o Orange por volta das 8:30, ela estava com um rosto aflito, o que era diferente porque ela estava sempre com uma cara amarrada de quem comeu e não gostou e por algum motivo, aquele momento ela me olhou com tanto ódio, eu cumprimentei ela, só que ela apenas saiu da janela e fechou as cortinas. Eu tentava ser legal com ela, mas bem, ela é a Judith Ward. Não sei se ela fazia isso apenas pra confirmar o que diziam de ruim dela ou se ela era realmente má. Ela se casou várias vezes, e algo me diz que talvez tenha sido um dos maridos, quero dizer, a maioria deles era famoso, tipo o Matt Hamming, o Paul Romeo, e me lembro de uma reportagem de que ela se envolveu com o marido daquela mulher rica, e ele sumiu e até hoje não sabem onde ele está, eu acho que o nome dele era Simon Rosebud… e também teve aquele cara misterioso com quem ela se envolveu no início da carreira dela que ninguém soube quem era, apenas de que o caso começou e acabou em Windenburg, mas conhecendo bem a ambição daquela lá, tenho certeza que era alguém influente, não é a toa que logo depois a notícia que a filha mais velha dela se casou com o presidente de Windenburg foi o foco de todos. Eu sempre achei a Judith uma pessoa muito misteriosa, era como se toda aquela arrogância fosse um disfarce pra algo, eu sempre a achei uma inspiração para um bom livro de mistérios e com essa morte, eu tenho quase um best-seller pronto."

"Thorne Bailey: O cara é tão idiota e problemático, talvez ele seja o motivo de a mulher dele nunca parar em casa, se Octavia se amasse ela teria acabado com esse casamento desde aquele vexame que esse idiota causou no SMA quando tirou o microfone da mão da coitada da Laura Gatti e falou um monte de merda… eu mesma teria dado um tapa na cara desse otário se eu estivesse lá, mas talvez eu esteja perto de realizar isso, quando ele estiver bem perto ou flagrar ele me vendo tomando banho de novo!" - Do Diário de Judy.

"Eu vi ela muito rápido durante a manhã, eu acho que ela estava se preparando pra ir tomar banho, mas foi só esse momento que eu a vi porque eu passei o dia todo gravando o meu novo single que com certeza vai limpar minha ficha de vez, até que a Octavia me gritou dizendo que a senhora Ward tinha sido morta, eu fiquei super em choque quando ouvi e então assim como todo mundo eu fui até lá, e eu não sabia que ficaria com tanto medo da morte quando vi a Ward saindo embalada naquele saco prato… eu comecei a temer pela minha vida, porque as pessoas também me odeiam, talvez ainda mais que a Ward. Sabe, eu acho que já atingi minha cota de problemas na vida, o maior deles vocês devem saber assim como todo o mundo, foi quando eu falei que a Laura Gatti não deveria ter ganhado o prêmio de melhor cantora no SMA, e bom, depois disso minha vida foi de mal a pior eu fiz um pronunciamento online - eu só estava bêbado demais - mas ninguém da família dela gostou ou aceitou, meu casamento tá se acabando aos poucos e eu tô ficando igual a Judith, estão se lembrando apenas das coisas ruins que eu fiz e ninguém mais escuta minhas músicas… até aquele tal Hector García tá fazendo mais sucesso que eu! Mas só porque ele virou genro da Laura Gatti e vai fazer parte da segundo família mais influente do mundo, se eu fosse ele, eu também me casaria com o anjinho quase dono da Disney se toda a família Maglioni-Gatti não me odiasse, só em pensar nisso eu tremo, vai que o pai do Luca decida pagar alguém pra me matar? Isso realmente me faz ver a família Maglioni-Gatti com outros olhos agora."

"Eu conheci a Sra. Ward muito pouco, eu a via de vez em quando na mansão, quando eu ia buscar o Damien pra algum encontro e, bem, ela sempre me tratou do jeito dela eu acho, sempre grossa e meio fria, mas nas últimas semanas eu notei uma expressão mais aflita. O Damien falava pouco dela, ele não parecia se preocupar com a mãe ou o pai, apenas com a fama dele, a gente se conheceu na escola, nós não nos dávamos bem, até chegamos a cair no tapa, até o dia em que eu beijei ele e ficamos até ele me pedir em namoro, logo depois que meu single entrou em primeiro lugar pra ser mais exato. Eu aceitei, mas desconfiado, o Dammy parece que liga apenas pra si mesmo, ele mesmo me confessou que queria ficar com meu irmão, Mario, mas isso não aconteceu porque a irmã dele gostava dele. Eu sei que pode parecer estranho e espero que isso não complique para o lado do Dammy, mas algo me diz que ele está gostando disso tudo, como se ele já soubesse sabe? Eu notei quando ele recebeu a notícia da morte da mãe que os olhos dele brilharam, mas não de tristeza, a irmã dele caiu em prantos, mas ele ficou tão, sei lá, sereno, talvez tenha sido o choque, mas eu achei estranho. A propósito, eu queria saber o quanto vocês dois cobrariam pra fazer uma investigação extra no Dammy? Eu acho que ele pode estar me traindo com o irmão o Tommy Carson, o irmão do Ken Carson. Eu recebi uma foto do Dammy se agarrando com o Tommy no banheiro e desde então eu não consigo mais confiar nele."

"A senhora Ward sempre foi legal do jeito dela, minha mãe me ensinou a ser educado mesmo que o próximo não seja e eu acho que foi graças a isso que a Estella se apaixonou por mim. Eu não senti nada de diferente na Sra. Ward nos últimos dias, mas a Estella desabafou comigo que estava orgulhosa da mãe, que ela estava sendo mais gentil e estava querendo se reconectar com a filha, a Sra. Diana, e eu fiquei feliz por elas. Meu pai não concordou muito quando soube que eu estava me envolvendo com a filha da Sra. Ward, ele disse que aquela família, principalmente a Sra. Ward era problema, e até comentou que um rapaz que ela namorava antigamente sumiu e ninguém nunca soube onde ele foi parar, e bem, eu pesquisei e o rapaz era casado e tinha um filho pequeno, não é normal alguém sumir assim. Eu perguntei pro meu pai o que ele queria dizer com aquilo só que ele desconversou, talvez porque isso lembrava a ele que minha mãe o traiu e fugiu com o ex-assessor dele, ou talvez ele estava apenas preocupado de algo assim acontecer comigo, porque o Dammy Ward era meio obsessivo por mim, mas era tudo platônico e ele tá com a minha cópia agora! Mas pra mim, eu acho que esse sumiço desse namorado dela tenha algo a ver com essa morte misteriosa, vai que o filho pequeno desse tal Simon Rosebud desconfiou que a Sra. Ward tinha algo a ver com o sumiço do pai dele e voltou? Nunca se sabe né? Mas aí é com vocês, espero que eu tenho ajudado em algo."

Marco e Mario Maglioni: Eu tenho orgulho que meus filhos estejam namorando pessoas que já estão no pico da fama, eu conheço o pai dos gêmeos, eu e Luigi tivemos um caso rápido no passado, apenas por diversão e ele foi um dos únicos que não me arrependi de ter ficado, talvez porque na época ele ainda era apenas um ator iniciante e eu já estava no pico do meu estrelato, se eu soubesse que o sobrinho dele faria tanto sucesso ainda pequeno, ele seria o meu marido agora, e não um imbecil que só sabe pensar em praia! Eu quero o melhor para os meus filhos, a minha Diana é talentosa como eu, minha pequena Estella tem o coração bom do pai e o Dammy tem o meu temperamento, mas eu sei que ele é bom assim como o Braydon, e o Zayne ama eles também… pelo menos se eu morrer, eu sei que eles serão bem amparados."

"Sim, o Luca conversou comigo durante a festa da Smogue, na época ele estava namorando com o Mika Onasis, ele é gêmeo daquele influenciador, Theo. Nós não conversamos muito, porque ele quase não saía de cima do Mika, mas no meio tempo em que ele saiu, eu decidi me aproximar e conversar com o Luca. Nós conversamos sobre a série nova que ele iria participar e então perguntei como estava o relacionamento dele com a Judith, já que da última vez em que estive nos Pináculos, em uma festa do Luca, eu notei a forma fria que ela o tratava. Eu nunca fui próxima dela, nunca tive qualquer contato com ela e fico muito feliz por isso nunca ter acontecido, porque é evidente que ela era uma pessoa desprezível. E então ele acabou desabafando que ela andava assim porquê não tinham colocado ela na categoria do Oscar, de novo, e então ele decidiu dar tulipas brancas a ela, porque eram as favoritas dela. E então eu disse que seria uma ótima ideia e indiquei um lugar onde faziam flores da forma que você queria que fossem feitas e eles entregam pra você. E logo depois ele começou a falar sobre o Allan Sherwood e como ele estava feliz em saber que ele e Midge Hadley iriam se casar e… depois começou a falar de você, detetive Allen, e sobre o fato de você ainda ser noivo e nunca ter casado com Robin Wayne. Eu não estou sendo falsa ou acusando ninguém injustamente, mas, alguém como Luca Maglioni, que pensa em outro cara estando em um relacionamento com outro, só mostra o quanto ele é capaz de fingir o que realmente quer ou pretende, não acham?"

Créditos: A todos criadores de Sims e CCs usados nesta história.

#ts4 #sims story #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 #simblr #the sims 4 cc #ts4 story #sims 4 story #misterio #sims 4 gameplay #obsidianlilith #the sims4 #the sims 4

[sapphic-luthor]

Good morning happy Sunday! Feeling any better? Mystery illnesses always suck so I hope you’re on the upswing. “Resolution” by Matt Corby came on the shuffle this morning and it reminded me so much of your KD playlist I’m now jamming out like Sunday Mornings should. Hope your week is healing and full of good vibes! - SMA

Hellooo!!! I do think I’m actually all sorted out now thank god, it only took many many months.

Queuing Resolution now; i think maybe it’s time for a new good vibes playlist for sleepy happy mornings to go along w the new year

#i will have to cast about my spotify a bit and see what i’ve got that isn’t already in the last one #bc kara’s was a true careful labour #i hope youre well!!!!!!!!!!!! #answered #anonymous #sma

[watchilove]

Technical brilliance Speake-Marin continues its Haute Horlogerie feats with the second version of the Openworked Tourbillon. Launched in 2019, this tourbillon with its unique and unusual positioning appears between 1 and 2 o’clock: a true technical accomplishment, a flagship movement and an authentic brand signature. This concentrated blend of watchmaking genius expressed through a powerful design is now available in two new interpretations: a technical one in matt black DLC-treated titanium; and a precious iteration in pink gold. Available in 38 and 42 mm sizes, their cases are fitted with a slim matching crown and feature an elegant black openworked dial entirely revealing the SMA05 calibre. It belongs to the SMA* movement family and confirms the incredible expertise of the in-house watchmakers. *entirely designed, developed and assembled by Speake-Marin https://www.instagram.com/p/Cihe4MhLSCj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[onlinstoresaja]

TAZKIA GS hoodie sweater pria/wanita FREE Fire / sweater FF - HITAM MATT : flecce nyaman di pakai,halus di kulit,ketebalan pas untuk harga murah meriah. model simple,elegant dan kekinian, 100% produksi sendiri ,harga bersahabat untuk dijual kembali. bisa di gunakan oleh pria dan wanita (unisex), no keep karna perputaran stok sangat cepat 1 kg muat 3 pcs untuk order grosir bisa kontak langsung . barang ready siap kirim,jika barang yg di pesan habis kami akan menghubungi via chat dan menawarkan : cencle, ganti mpdel/warna, tunggu restok semua hoodie kami satu ukuran hanya saja untuk mempermuda pembeli yg kurang memahami arti allsize fit to xl kami sesiakan variasi size M,L,XL. allsize adalah ukuran rata rata diantara ukuranyg sudah ada,contohnya ada ukuran M dan XLmaka di antara ukuran tsb ada sebuah ukuran yg bsa di sebut allsize, sebutan lain nya M fit to XL. ada kala nya allsize bisa melebihi ukuran Ldan bisa kurang dari ukuran M. itu menunjukanbahwa ukuran allsize adalah ukuran yang tdk secara pasti panjang dan lebar nya. semoga di mengerti allsize fit to xl ( remaja) LD: 57 cm P:68 cm lokal size (indonesia) di saran kan untuk berat badan 70 kg ke bawah allsize fit to xl (anak) LD :50 cm P: 60cm di sarankan untuk anak umur 5-10 tahun pesanan yang masuk dibawaj jam 16.00 akan d proses d hari yg sma melebihi jam tsb d kirim hari berikutnya,harap order sesuai variasi dan julah yg di ingin kan untuk mempermudah proses pengemasan,lama pengiriman mohon d tunggu sesuai estimasi kota tujuan,bisa lebih cepat/lebih lambat https://www.instagram.com/p/CdsHyJUrThc/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bruhnfoster8]

hermes crocodile bag 15

Hermès And Jane Birkin Resolve Spat Over Crocodile Handbags “Lizard is just used for baggage sized as a lot as 25 at Hermès, because the scales are very small and refined. Compared to a matte finish, we see a better demand for Hermès lizard luggage with a shiny appearance”, Oliver explains. But animal rights activists have slammed the practices used to supply them. Made of leather and canvas, the Herbag Zip comes full with a Kelly design with added staple lock closure, yet also comes with a removable zipped pouch and an exterior pocket. PARIS - French luxurious goods group Hermes has resorted to breeding its own crocodiles on farms in Australia to attempt to meet demand for its leather-based bags, its chief government mentioned on Monday. An investigation is underway at the Texas farm which was implicated in the video. Hermès specifies that this farm does not belong to them and that the crocodile skins provided usually are not used for the fabrication of Birkin luggage. Despite its recognition, the bag features no outstanding logos and is just recognizable to people who already know what it is. In Birkin, Hermès has created one thing that feels inaccessible until extremely exclusive. Roxy’s closet is also residence to the ultra-rare crocodile pores and skin Birkin, which might retail at anyplace between $70,000 and $435,000. There will be loads of Hermés baggage on provide, including a “shiny graphite” Porosus crocodile diamond “Kelly Cut” for an estimate of at least US$50,000. But the listing also contains Chanel, Bottega Veneta, Dior, Fendi, and Judith Lieber. “The key cause this is so particular is the craftsmanship,” says Winsy Tsang, Christie’s head of sale for purses and equipment in Asia. On the arms of celebrities together with Kim Kardashian, Beyonce and Tamara Ecclestone, the Hermes Birkin bag is the final word style accent. Ms Birkin had met the chief govt of Hermes on a flight from Paris to London, the place he supplied to design her a holdall and requested if the company could name it after her. New Birkin bags can start at around £7,000 every, but they aren't straightforward to buy, with famously lengthy ready lists. wikipedia hermes crocodile Kim Kardashian, Victoria Beckham and Celine Dion are among these to be noticed with the uncommon Himalaya on their arm, while many more celebrities depend different Birkins as a half of their collections. Buyer restriction by Hermes in Paris is not new; one person can only buy two baggage a year. You can have one Birkin or Kelly and the second bag is a free choice. The ones produced from crocodile retail for as much as £25,000 or extra. re-pin.me replica hermes crocodile bag At a current auction, a bag from last year sold for a document £146,000. Meanwhile, Hermes has been downplaying flash in favor of a more stealth-wealth look. And when Hermes’ newly appointed design director Nadege Vanhee-Cybulski confirmed her first assortment for the model at Paris Fashion Week in March, there wasn’t a Birkin to be seen on the runway. These same folks make extraordinarily generous donations to charitable work. Donations so large they make this bag value look like pocket change. Their outlandish price ticket has been a half of their attract within the 30 years since these luggage made their debut. They're collectors' gadgets as a lot as cult equipment beloved by celebrities and people wealthy sufficient to emulate them. Handbag lovers may have an opportunity to bid on Hermés luggage in dozens of colours, shapes, and vintages, together with many made from exotic skins, at a Nov. 28 Christie’s auction in Hong Kong headlined by a matte white Himalaya Kelly bag. Unfortunately, merely the flexibility to afford such a remarkable Birkin is not sufficient. One have to be a VIP to be supplied a Birkin bag in such an extraordinary color. Salted skins are sent to an Hermès-owned tannery and possibly others for ultimate processing. Dior normally works with Ayers snakeskin, which exhibits barely smaller, diamond-shaped scales. It is similarly fragile to python, but usually a bit lower in worth. Featuring captivating gradient colours, the revived Dior Saddle produced from Ayers snakeskin is a contemporary possibility. No exception collections of luggage which are usually carried. Whatever he wears daily is at all times interesting, both the model name and the value vary. Skin belongs to the animal who was born with it, to not individuals who want to make things out of it. Suggesting that one animal deserves to maintain her pores and skin more than one other is bigoted. With all of the non-animal options obtainable to us, we merely can not justify stealing anyone’s pores and skin. The Kangaroo Protection Act, federal legislation introduced in 2021, would ban their sale nationwide. In 2010, she chose a similar gown by the identical designer which featured a thigh-high split and one-shoulder. Anne Hathaway returned to old-Hollywood glamour on the 2011 Golden Globes sporting a dramatic rose gold Armani Privé robe from the designer’s autumn/winter 2010 collection. The floor-length costume was fully embellished with paillettes and Swarovski crystals and was accessorised with classic Van Cleef & Arpels earrings. In whole the web auction made $2,266,750 (£1.73m) - the highest whole for a web-based handbags sale at Christie’s.

#hermes crocodile bag #hermes crocodile #hermes alligator #hermes alligator bag #hermes crocodile bags #replica hermes crocodile

[sixmorningsafter]

SMA Flashback, Maroline

Hey guys, I posted this flashback a while ago on ff.net but just in case anyone missed it or skipped it, it’s going to be pretty relevant to the next chapter, so I’m posting it here, too.

Summary: A surprise visit from Matt leaves Caroline reeling, and Bonnie gets a glimpse of what's been going on behind closed doors. TW: implications of domestic abuse.

Emory University Spring Semester, 2012

It was her fault.

He'd driven all the way from Texas to surprise her. Twelve hours in his rattling rust bucket of a 1982 Ford Pickup, windows down, stereo busted, likely listening to nothing but intermittent flares of talk radio between long, mind-numbing stretches of static. Twelve hours of no air conditioning in the southern humidity, of swampy Louisiana, muddy Mississippi, and balmy Alabama whizzing past him in a russet blur of not-quite-summer.

He'd stopped in Houston to get her favorite tacos from Ultimo's Taco Truck—extra guac, no sour cream—and they'd braved the heat in a dingy little cooler in the backseat. He'd even picked up a bottle of her favorite champagne, a bottle she knew he couldn't afford, because he'd wanted to celebrate: he'd been promoted to manager at the Grill. He could finally make a decent salary, enough to chip in for Vicky's rehab—maybe even enough to get a decent place in a year or two.

So really, it was her fault. Most of it, anyway. Maybe all of it.

She hadn't meant to seem unhappy to see him. She just wasn't expecting it. She'd been in the middle of cramming for her microeconomics final, brow furrowed, highlighter a citrine blur in her fingers, when she heard the knock on the door. Seeing Matt standing there with his crinkly-eyed smile, taco bag in one hand and champagne bottle in the other, made her giddily, soaringly, stupidly happy.

It always did.

But it also stressed her out. Her final was on Monday. She needed an absolute knockout performance to pull off a decent grade in the class, and she hadn't budgeted in Matt time. The tension began creeping in about thirty minutes after he got there, right as the rush of surprise began to fade, and like all of her emotions, it shone bright and obvious on her face.

He'd never been big on school, so the concept of caring about grades wasn't something he really sympathized with. She understood where he was coming from—he was only there for the weekend, she could probably just study Sunday night after he left, what did one stupid class matter in the big scheme of things, in the scheme of them, of their heady, hungry, songs-written-about-it kind of story—but obviously not enough, because it started a fight.

The first one, anyway.

The second fight was different, but also her fault. They were twined in her bed, lolling and lazy, naked skin auroral in the fading glow of the Georgia sunset, and even though they'd just made up, even though their last fight had ended a mere orgasm ago, she pushed a bit. About the job, about his goals, about Wimberley and whether he had any plans of getting out of their tiny Texan hometown.

She hadn't meant to sound pushy, she'd just meant to open up a realistic dialogue about their future and how they might navigate it together, but he immediately went on the defensive. He took it as her belittling his promotion, as her patronizing him and being a snob, and maybe there was a bit of truth in that, really, because Matt was smart as hell and it was hard for her to watch him sell himself so short, but at the same time, if that's what made him happy, she needed to support it, right?

The second fight was worse. A lot worse. It had all its own fire plus the embers of the first one, and it spread far beyond the bounds of its starting point. It spread to old resentments, past fights—to her signing him up for the SAT four years ago when he'd said he wasn't interested in college, to him being high more and more often when they talked on the phone, to Tyler and the time she'd accidentally passed out next to him while studying on her bed, on and on and nastier and louder until their throats were raw.

The sex that followed was different, too. Less 'make-up' and more 'make-a-point'. Bruising grips replaced meandering caresses. Sweet, whispered nothings became possessive growls, demeaning growls, growls of 'you think Tyler can make you moan like that?'. He didn't walk the line between pain and pleasure so much as zigzag it—one second she was on the brink of climax, the next she was wincing and trying to slow him down.

He'd chalk it up to rough sex. He always did, always gave her that baffled look of his, the one that made her feel like a moron for even saying anything. 'Since when is rough an issue for you?' She could never find the words to explain what was different about it, what made it feel like there was spite in his movements, like a part of him was trying to hurt her, trying to show her he could do whatever he wanted to her. So she'd flounder, and with a flare of amusement that screamed of humoring her, he'd concede that maybe he'd still been a little worked up from the fight, maybe he'd lost himself a bit in the leftover adrenaline.

Before he left, he told her, like he always did, that all the shit in his life was worth it if the trade-off was her. That he was sorry about the argument, that he'd start looking into the future, and that ultimately, the only thing that mattered to him was having her in it. She couldn't help but think that it was all said with a glint, though—the smug glint of the benevolent victor, of the person who knew he'd emerged in effortless control of a situation but wanted to seem gracious. It was an apology that had nothing to lose because it'd already won.

But then he pressed his forehead against hers and breathed her in, fingers gentle against her chin, angling her mouth up so he could brush her lips in light, nipping kisses, and she felt herself backtracking. Maybe he hadjust been a little too riled up from the fight—after all, how could someone holding her the way he was now, like she was the most delicate thing in the world, ever want to hurt her? It didn't make sense. Matt would die over hurting her. He was right, she was just being stupid.

He'd driven all the way here.

He'd brought her favorite tacos.

He'd splurged on her favorite champagne.

And she'd started two fights in exchange.

It was obviously her fault.

So why was she sitting alone in her bathtub, nauseated and trembling, unable to stop staring at the marks on her skin? Why couldn't she stop imagining the brief, terrifying flash of satisfaction she swore sometimes crossed his face whenever his mercurial fingers shifted her gasps into grimaces? Why did she feel like her bones were dissolving, like she was slowly caving in on herself one shaky breath at a time? Why did she feel so pathetically, inconsequentially, crushingly small?

The sound of the front door swinging open made her stiffen. "Sorry, guys!" she heard Bonnie's wry voice call out from the living room, and she immediately abandoned the bottle of wine in her hand, straightening up and scrubbing a hand over her face. "I don't want to interrupt the love nest, I just need to grab my—" Bonnie halted in the bathroom door, face crumpling at the sight of Caroline huddled in the bathtub in her underwear, "…curling iron."

Caroline's face broke into a fiercely bright smile. "Hey, girl!"

"Hey." The reply was puzzled, hesitant—Bonnie knew her well enough to know the bathtub never meant anything good. She blinked for a second before casting a glance over her shoulder. "Where's Matt?"

"Oh, you just missed him—he left about an hour ago." Her stare slowly shifted back to her, and Caroline felt her lips struggling to hold her smile. "He said have a safe flight."

Bonnie gave a slow nod, eyes fixed below her face, and it took Caroline a second to remember he'd grabbed her by the neck. Hard. She shot an instinctive hand up to her throat, blocking it from view, and Bonnie's stare flickered. "Care…"

Tears pricked at her eyes and she averted them. "It's nothing."

Bonnie dropped her bag on the floor and approached the tub, and Caroline wrapped her arms around her body to try and hide it, hot with shame, bracing for the inevitable reaction. It came in the form of a sharp intake of breath. "Caroline," Bonnie gasped, stopping about a foot from the tub in shock, and Caroline shoved a nervous hand through her hair.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Like hell it isn't," Bonnie replied, stare raking over the constellation of deep, burgundy bruises spanning her upper thigh in horror, and before Caroline could give another instinctive negation, could throw out a tinny 'I bruise really easily!', could invent some kind of accident that shifted the blame, her phone began buzzing against the sink. Even from a distance, she saw the name 'Matt' flashing on the screen.

Furious, Bonnie surged over to the sink and swiped it up, and Caroline felt her veins flood with panic. "Bonnie, no!"

"Matt," Bonnie hissed in greeting, voice wavering with rage, and she whirled around to look at Caroline. Upon catching sight of her desperate face, however, she froze.

"Please," Caroline whispered, shaking her head no, tears hot against her cheeks. "Just… just not yet." Bonnie held her stare for a long, heart-breaking beat before drawing in a tight breath.

"Hey," she said over the phone, pushing a stiff hand through her hair. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just…" she closed her eyes, running her hand over her face, and Caroline felt her heart racing in her chest, "I actually just got some really shitty news about my mom, and I'm not really sure how to deal with it, and I really need my best friend right now, so I was wondering if you could just talk to her tomorrow."

Her chest loosened in a wave of relief.

Bonnie's stare sharpened slightly, jaw locking. "Yeah, I know she has a test tomorrow." Her lips pressed into a humorless line, fingers tight around the phone. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." A long beat. "She's in the shower right now, but I'll let he—" she let out a sharp sigh at what was likely an interruption, hand closing into a fist. "Matt. I need my fucking friend, alright? Just give me tonight. You'll survive."

She hung up without waiting for a response and proceeded to shut the phone off. Caroline stared at her hands, unable to bring herself to look her in the eye. Bonnie had always known Matt could be intense—she'd overheard enough of their fights to have a sense for that—but Caroline knew she'd never seen her quite like this. No one had.

She didn't know what to expect. Her skin burned with a paradoxical mixture of denial and shame. Was Bonnie mad at her? Was she mad at herself? Was she responsible for letting it happen, for letting it get to this point? She simultaneously wanted to convince her that it was all a misunderstanding and cry out all of the pent up emotions she'd been hiding, but before she could make a call, Bonnie's arms were around her, pulling her into a quiet, gentle hug.

And that was all it took for her to crack. She didn't know how long she cried. Minutes, hours—time blurred, dusk faded into night, and Bonnie merely sat with her in the tub, stroking her hair and occasionally murmuring that it was going to be okay. When Caroline finally managed to ease her sobs into the occasional hitched breath, she shot Bonnie a watery look.

"I'm s-so sorry."

Bonnie shook her head. "Care, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"No, no, I…" she swallowed, slowly pushing herself up to a full sitting position and letting out a strained little laugh. "This is my stupid melodrama and I dragged you into it and—"

"Caroline," Bonnie said firmly, pushing herself up along the side of the tub with a serious expression, "I don't know what you're going through right now, and I'm not going to pressure you to talk about anything you don't want to talk about. But please, please know," she reached forward to take light hold of her shoulders, giving her a loaded stare, "this isn't stupid. This is the antithesis of stupid. This is completely, heartbreakingly serious, and if he's somehow made you feel like any part of this is a joke, he's lying. The last thing this is is a joke."

Caroline merely stared at her, struggling not to start crying again—God, she was so sick of fucking crying—and before she could crack, she gave a quick nod and cleared her throat. "Can we talk about something else?"

Bonnie's expression softened. "Whatever you want." Caroline kept her bleary eyes on her trembling hands, struggling to come up with a topic, and after a long beat of silence, Bonnie slowly leaned forward. "Did you see yesterday's Real Housewives?"

Caroline slipped into a hoarse laugh. Bonnie hated The Real Housewives. "Orange County or Atlanta?"

Bonnie scoffed. "You know Hotlanta is the only way I roll."

Caroline's lips took on a weak smile. "No, I missed yesterday's." She waved a tired hand, smile straining. "Matt and all." Bonnie nodded, biting her bottom lip, and Caroline let out a shaky sigh. "I mean, I was supposed to be studying all weekend anyway, so… wouldn't have seen them either way."

Bonnie's brow furrowed. "Right, your final's tomorrow."

Caroline sighed, dropping her head against her knees. "I'm going to bomb it, Bon."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do," Caroline said with a weak laugh. "I have twelve chapters left to cover and three of them are brand new."

Bonnie straightened up and checked her watch. "What time's your test?"

Her shoulders lifted into a vague shrug. "Nine."

"Nine," Bonnie repeated, eyes narrowing in brief calculation before she reached back and pushed herself up to her feet. Caroline's brow furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

"Switching my flight," Bonnie replied, stepping out of the tub and heading over to her abandoned bag, and Caroline lifted her head off her knees in alarm.

"What?"

"It's 8:30 now, which means that factoring in the time it'll take to get to campus, we have exactly twelve hours to get you ready to kick this final's ass."

Caroline merely blinked. "Bon, no, you're—" she shook her head as Bonnie fished out her phone and began typing away, baffled, "—you're done with the semester, people are expecting you back home, I can't—"

"Too late—done," she said, lips quirking at the corners, though her brow promptly furrowed. "Actually, should I fly out tomorrow night, or are we going to want to go out to celebrate your slayage?" At Caroline's dumbfounded silence, she nodded, lifting a finger. "You're right—figure that out later. Let's start with reinforcements."

She tapped her phone and brought it up to her ear, chewing her lip. "Lockwood," she said after a beat, "I need you to peace out of whatever party you're terrorizing freshman at and pick up literally every source of caffeine you can find from the 7-Eleven. Yep. Caroline's got a final tomorrow." Her brow furrowed after a second. "Obviously. And sour worms, too. And twizzlers." Her eyes flashed with attitude. "Do not snack shame me." She shot Caroline a 'can you believe this guy' look before turning around and waltzing out of the bathroom. "Oh, and see if the Delts have one of those study bibles for Micro…"

Caroline merely stared at the empty doorway, thoroughly overwhelmed, chest tight, tears once again pricking at her eyes, but this time they were from an entirely different emotion. She was so grateful she could burst. She'd been convinced her night would be her alone in their apartment, dreading the break of day, drinking cheap wine till she finally managed to pass out and forget for a while.

Instead, her night was Bonnie acting out vocab terms through overzealous interpretive dance, Tyler coming up with wildly inappropriate mnemonic devices for all the different laws, a constantly brewing pot of coffee, sixteen different heart-attack-waiting-to-happen snack options, and more five-hour-energy shots than should've been survivable. Tyler passed out on the armchair at about 5 AM, drooling on a stack of flashcards, but Bonnie somehow stuck it out till the bitter end, even going so far as to make her a 'healthy breakfast!' of pop tarts and runny eggs.

Caroline managed to survive the class with a B+.

A few months later, she would manage to survive Matt, too.

What she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to survive, wasn't sure she'd ever want to survive, was a life where her best friend and knight in 5-foot armor wasn't Bonnie high-kick-means-appreciating-asset-droppin'-it-low-means-depreciating-asset Bennett.

#six mornings after #sma caroline #sma matt #sma bonnie #sma tyler #sma maroline #sma baroline #sma forwood #writing #flashback

[ghostcultmagazine]

Hellfest 2021 Is Canceled  

The organizers of Hellfest have been officially canceled after the French government culture ministry said summer events would be allowed to go ahead — but with a limit of 5,000 people, all of whom must remain seated, to meet COVID-19 restrictions.This is a bad sign for the upcoming European festival circuit this year as other countries are likely to follow the same protocols. The Union of…

View On WordPress

#BACON BLOODY BACON: Matt Bacon&039;s 3 Ways To Create Content During The Coronavirus #Coronavirus #COVID-19 #Deep Purple #Deftones #Devin Townsend #Dropkick Murphys #Faith No More #Hellfest #Judas Priest #Korn #Northlane #Opeth #Puscifer #Rival Sons #Suicidal Tendencies #System of a Down #The Union of Contemporary Music (SMA) #Volbeat #Wardruna

[ask-schoolmaster-alfred]

It's July 1st so Happy Birthday Matthew! Here's a pic of him with his stray dog friend Bear!

//I know there's only been one drawing of him on here but I just remembered to do these birthday things so...

#ask-schoolmaster-alfred #aph canada #matt has been remembered! #i'll totally keep on top of it now #matthew williams #sma art

[terresdebrume]

Almost forgot to mention I have a ride again! The break light stays on so I need to get the battery charged and maybe the cabling fixed but it's otherwise working okay.

#mon pouet pouet #matt has a life #shit from home #I call it (my squeaky)becaude it's so sma my knees almost touch the handlebars when I drive it #and sometimes I have to push it with my feet if I want to take an uphill start #but still: I am beholden to taxis no more :)

[aragarna]

It’s this time of year again, time to dig up some old fanarts of mine! *grin*

(And yes, yes, I know I should do one for Jim too!)

#Tim DeKay #Matt Bomer #sexiest man alive #sma #people #fanart

[plentyoffandoms]

Hello lovely....thank you so much for the story I requested 💗.

I have another if that's ok.

Mox's sister is Dana Massie (Matt Jackson's wife) assistant . Eddie Kingston flirts hardcore with her cause she's so shy around him (cause she likes him) and he really likes her but thinks he's not good enough for her. One night during a storm at Daily's Place they get stuck in an elevator when the power goes out and well....feelings are revealed along with some hot elevator sex...

Possibly 2 parts maybe?

Thank you 😊 😍😘

I Got It Bad (Part 1)

Eddie Kingston x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Some swearing.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

I hope you like it.

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Eddie Kingston Masterlist

Summary: f/Reader is the assistant of Dana Massie & Eddie Kingston has a massive crush on her. The two of them get stuck in the elevator during a storm & the sexual tension becomes too much.

Y/N's POV:

I am beyond thankful that my brother Jon was able to put in a good word to Matt for when his wife Dana was looking for an assistant.

When Jon told me I got an interview I was nervous that it was for something on TV as I hate being the centre of attention, unlike him who always wanted to be famous.

But he told me it was for an assistant job, I knew this was the job for me and I love it. I already knew Dana from meeting her over the years but now I work for her and she is truly great.

I couldn't ask for a better boss and with being the little sister of the Jon Moxley, I already knew most of the wrestlers.

Including Eddie Moore or as he is known as, Eddie Kingston.

Don't get me wrong, I like Eddie...maybe a little too much. My crush on him has slowly developed over the years and now whenever I am around him, I can't help but stutter and get an almost butterfly feeling in my stomach.

It's like he knows I like him because he is constantly touching me in some way. When ever we are in the same room, he gravitates towards me and makes sure he is either standing or sitting next to me.

His favourite thing to do when sitting next to me is put his arm around my shoulders and whisper in my ear.

Whenever he does that, my whole body feels like it is on fire and I have to excuse myself as soon as I can.

Or when I am walking down the hall and I feel someone poke me. I know it is Eddie because I would freak out on anyone else if they dared to do that.

But I can never admit to him that I like him. Jon is over protective of me and would lose his mind if Eddie and I got together.

But a girl can dream can't she?

Eddie Kingston's POV:

Fuck me, Y/N was looking good today, but then again she always does. I smiled at her once I saw her looking at me, but she quickly looked away.

I groaned to myself as I saw her bite her lip and look at me once more.

I have always like Y/N. She is kind and sweet. She never once got into any trouble and that must of been hard to do with an older brother like Jon.

I have a hard time not touching her, sounds creepy I know but this is the only chance I will ever get to have her in my arms.

Like earlier today for instance, Y/N and I were in the lunch line together. Me talking her ear off and her just listening.

But she moved too far from me, so with out even thinking, I reached around her waist and pulled her flush against me.

"Where do you think you are going gorgeous? I thought you were listening to my story." I whispered in her ear.

I thought I heard her breath hitch for a second but she looked up at me with her gorgeous eyes and softly said "I was. I'm sorry Eddie."

And damn it, I wanted to kiss her but I just let her go. She is too good for me and doesn't need my reputation added to her name.

I knew we would never work out because she is out of my league and always has been. Finished highschool, went to University and like I said before, the kindest, sweetest person, always willing to help others.

Like now for instance, she was holding the elevator for me. I nodded my head in thanks and the two of us had small talk. Well I talked, she listened.

Next thing we knew, the power flickered and the elevator stopped moving. I knew the storm outside was getting worse but this bad? I didn't think so.

The power went completely out and Y/N gasped and held onto my arm. I wrapped my other arm around her and pulled her close to my body.

Thankfully the back up power came on and the two of us looked at one another.

We are now stuck in the elevator and we don't know for how long.

Part 2

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan @lghockey @lilaviolet @iloveeddiekingston @sparkleva25 @jazzy-bella02 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @wwenhlimagines @hungmanhorsecarriage @kawaiikels @ecarroll1978

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #aew wrestling #jon moxley #jon moxley x sister reader #eddie kingston x reader #eddie kingston x you #eddie kingston fanfiction #eddie kingston imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston x female reader #eddie kingston x reader smut #eddie kingston smut