#I also feel like we never really see max driving his personal cars often but charles is always driving somewhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smallbearlady · 8 months ago

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Okay I need to get something off as a both Daniel and Yuki Fan

Before you come for me: Personally i root a little bit more for Daniel than for Yuki, non the less i wish BOTH! the best: points, podiums, wins, championships.

Before even the 2024 season started regarding silly season I came to the conclusion:

- I want to see Yuki Tsunoda in the second seat for Red Bull Racing besides Max Verstappen -

- I want Daniel Ricciardo to keep the seat at VCARB and Liam Lawson to become his teammate"

And here is why:

1. Daniel is a better asset for the Faenza Team than for Red Bull Racing in Milton Keynes

2. Red Bull Racing need to face the problem in case they loose Max Verstappen and their future in the sport

3. For years Yuki has been overlooked as canditate for the second seat at Red Bull Racing although he is outperforming his car since atleast the beginning of 2023

4. They loose the purpose of the Faenza Team if they choose drivers outside the Red Bull Family yet again

5. If that doesn't work out with Yuki and they need an expierenced driver because the competition found a way to beat Red Bull - they still can swap out Yuki for Daniel when needed

Welcome to my Ted Talk

1. Daniel is a better asset for the Faenza Team than for Red Bull Racing in Milton Keynes

When you listen to the interviews from Peter Bayer, Laurent Mekies and Franz Tost (last year), everyone always said & still say that Daniel is a great asset in term of developing and setting up the car

To quote Franz "He has an incredible feel for the car" and Peter "With his feel and developement advises he is also helping Yuki"

They were so happy last year that Daniel was there in Singapore to help setting up the car tho he himself couldn't drive, even claiming the he was an additional factor to why Liam got points in that race (i could talk hours about singapore23 trust me)

Red Bull Racing dont need someone for developing because of the current state of them dominating and being miles ahead their competiors and be able to create a car for Max smashing the whole grid

And wouldn't it be awesome to see VCARB podiums and wins like Pierre Gasly did with this Team in 2019 - 2021 ...

thinking about Daniels Renault time in 2020 and feeling that he was the asset that helped their performance jump between 2019 and 2020

2. Red Bull Racing need to face the problem in case they loose Max Verstappen

Red Bull Racing needs to look into how they will proceed to be on to top in the case when Max leaves the sport (or to another team which i doubt) (which could be quite soon on how often Max already talked about retirement)

For that you need young talented drivers to make the step up because they can still develope themselves into a better driver and they also prob stay longer than driver who already drove over 10 years

Alonso and Hamilton are exceptions in their field and as we know WDCs usually stay longer in the sport as just race winners or podium getter or point bringers. Formula 1 also has the problem that they are almost either affraid of bringing in rookies because they are more likely to make mistakes or love to hold onto their old (washed) drivers

Too many young drivers were really good coming through the ranks of F4 F3 and F2 but never got a chance in F1. The case of Oscar Piastri who smashed everthing in F2 in 2021 still had to wait and fight to get that McLaren seat or it was moreover Mark Webber, who had to fight. Most drivers dont have a well known Manager to get those deals.

So i totally understand why Marko said that Liam Lawson WILL HAVE A SEAT IN 2025.

But I feel like Liam still has to proof his worth for some years in the VCARB before stepping up to Red Bull Racing.

3. For years Yuki has been overlooked as canditate for the second seat at Red Bull Racing although he is outperforming his car since atleast the beginning of 2023

Red Bull Racing themselfs prob still have PTSD from 2019 and 2020 with Gasly and Albon. That years showed that the big team doesn't have the patience to develope a rookie like Lawson. They also had luck with Max in that term but also had to go through a lot of crashes and imperfections back then.

Yuki Fan expierence this bias against Yuki far to long. To me in my mind come how the media shitted on Yuki in Mexico for his mistake when he was trying to overtake Oscar. The media shitted in Yuki more than on Checo Perez who took himself out.

As recap: Yuki on that day started from the back bc he got a new gearbox which was 1 aditional change to max allowed gearbox changes of the season. He started from the back and made up places, he got into the points and with his mistake he fell out of the points. You also have to understand that he was stuck behind Piastri for multiple laps to try to find an opening to overtake and prob got frustrated

Besides of that happening Yuki showed a very good race craft and teamwork in qualifying that weekend.

But regarding the Red Bull Racing seat - they barely name him, though he had very very good 2023 season regarding the car he was given

In the beginning of 2023 it was often said in the Media that Nyck De Vries was a possible candidate for the RBR seat and that Nyck will be the teamleader of AT because of his expierence and age according to Helmut Marko

And Yuki smashed that Media say with beating Nyck last year ... kinda similar how he is beating Daniel right now and the fuss about Daniel taking the

Or how Yuki Fans say: All voices that rise against Yuki shall fall

In that and also considering the precious point I am really annoyed about the fact that Checo Perez only has to do the bare minimum to keep his seat and drivers in less good cars work their ass off to get nothing out of it. Ofcourse rn he looks like he is handeling the car this years RB20 better than the RB19 .. as we saw last year that can change midseason with the increase of competion and car developements

Again - the idea of Yuki (and Daniel) may be closer to Max in quali and race pace than Checo overall but we dont know because they dont sit in the same car

4. They loose the purpose of the Faenza Team if they choose drivers outside the Red Bull Family yet again

This point is regarding the rumor about that maybe Sainz or Alonso are targeted for the second seat at Red Bull Racing if Perez doesnt perform.

If they take someone outside the family 2 current drivers have to go. There are already 3 drivers for 2 seats since Helmut Marko already sees Liam Lawson in the VCARB (they could have signed the contract already).

I see that they maybe eye Sainz (als a Carlos Sainz Fan too) as a possibility since him also being an ex-Red Bull Junior ... but i think i remember Marko saying that the mood the Torro Rosso 2015 wasn't ideal bc the drivers, mechanic and especially the DADS competing directly (Franz Tost enjoyed it according to his interview end of last year and i too would watch Papa Sainz and Jos battle it out)

Marko too said last year he'd loved to have Norris, but Lando dedicated his life to McLaren. Charles dedicated his to Ferrari and I also see how Alex Albon future is within Williams since Red Bull never really apprechiated him when he was there in 2019 & 2020

There is no reason to look outside the family if you have enough good drivers to sign and resign within the family

5. If that doesn't work out with Yuki and they need an expierenced driver because the competition found a way to beat Red Bull - they still can swap out Yuki for Daniel when needed

This is a lead back to the first point.

It only makes sense to sign Daniel Ricciardo for the Red Bull Racing seat if Red Bull Racing needs him in that seat.

If Perez can't give Max and the Team the teamplay or the performance they need from him, Red Bull has to make changes. Currently Yuki - a young and good driver - looks like the better and more long term replacement option out of both VCARB drivers. If Yuki fails too, then i would give the seat to Daniel and hope for the best.

Because if there is 1 thing we all know is that Daniel can be a beast in the Red Bull Racing car. That car (according to himself at the red bull interview with is race engineer) has still the characteristic that he (and Max) loves about that car and the Red Bull Racing Team know what kind of car Daniel wants and needs to perform and the kind of car in that Daniel can show his beast (honey badger) in him.

------

The season only just started and we barely had 3 race ... McLaren achieve a total overturn midseason last year ... lets watch and see what happens

Love y'all

Have a nice day

#f1 #yuki tsunoda #daniel ricciardo #yukiel #red bull racing #2024 silly season #max verstappen #welcome to my ted talk #f1 discussion #f1 unpopular opinion

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supermaks · 9 months ago

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M [max/charles] on ao3 | re-published 2024-02-26

relationship study, unreliable timeline, unreliable narrator, time skips, reckless driving, unhealthy relationships, 2023 szn compliant, ‘something’s cosmic’ by angel Olsen 🔭🔮

before we draw

Need has a strange grip on him lately. Need filters through everything else, slips through the cracks and fills him up to the brim. It doesn’t spill, though, not until he has Max’s hands on him. It’s Max’s permission that he seeks, the wet glide of his lips and the press of his body, all-encompassing and hurried but also disciplined. Thorough. No need to rush. Rushing is for the gokart tires burnt down to the rubber and rain splatters on foggy lids that don’t close so well. Faulty equipment given to children who wanted to see death and more often than not, did. That was the time for rushing. If you’d ask Charles, his time is running out. He’s on a schedule, still, while Max collects what he calls 'bonuses'. No, Max has no need to rush. Outside the track, Max only chases what he wants. He never races, either. He chases right up until Charles realizes it’s futile to pretend he hasn’t been looking over his shoulder expecting to find him there. Then, they make a conscious bargain of mutually assured destruction. They draw. Need spills. And takes everything else with it. A great flood.

Charles is walking home, or trying to, anyway, stumbling through narrow, dimly lit streets that he knows to be empty at that hour of the night, drunk and moody and overall a bit of a pitiful sight. He’s going on an adventure. Sometimes he gets into these funks, especially in Monaco. The music becomes too loud, and the arm around his waist isn’t welcome anymore, the smell of hard liquor is nauseating, and he wants to slap the vape out of his friend’s mouth and step on it.

He’s not a dramatic person. Not really. The solution to this is usually simple. He leaves, alone, or asks his girlfriend to go home with him. Tonight, he’s alone.

He hears the Porsche before he sees it, the engine’s sweet, gentle purr slow to a stop next to him, terrible EDM blasting from inside, before the window rolls down and Max wolf-whistles from the driver's seat.

“Oh my goodness, it’s Charles Leclerc.” He mocks, high-pitched and annoying. Then he laughs. There’s no one else in the car with him. He’s in boxer briefs, his shirt is on backwards, and his hair looks like it’s been tugged at. Charles wants to climb inside and check if his thighs are as warm as they look. They look warmer than his face feels. He settles for a smile.

“Hello. How are you?”

Max’s grin grows like Charles said something funny. “I’m fantastic, man. It’s a lovely night.” Charles leans against the Porsche door, even though that’s rude, it’s a Porsche, and finally catches the haziness in Max’s eyes, his full blown pupils and bitten lips, gooey almost, slick with spit. Someone’s been kissing him, blowing smoke into his lungs. Charles licks his own, slowly, and Max’s hands squeeze around the steering wheel. Max is on an adventure, too. Charles has half a mind to make him chase tonight.

“Not so lovely for me.” He comments. “See, I’m too hot, mate. Too fucking hot."

“Ah, yeah. You need a ride home? It’s not a problem.” He says. Charles almost rolls his eyes. Easy come. Hard go.

Then, again, they’re the same.

“No, not home.” He says, affronted, almost. Charles looks across the street, checks both ends. He drops into the passenger seat like he’s done it a hundred times before. If he shuts the door too hard, Max doesn’t mind. He seems happy enough that Charles cut their little ritual short. It hasn’t even been that long. Max should count his lucky stars. God knows he’s got plenty. “Alright, then, drive me somewhere, racing driver.” Charles says. He meets Max’s hooded eyes with his own, faux-wide ones. “Oh, Max. Max, I know. Let’s do La Corniche. Whichever you prefer. You know what I mean, yes? Like, route nationale, by the sea. It's so pretty at night."

Max takes a deep breath. “Yes, I know. I do live here.” Charles looks back outside so he can hide his smile.

“Oh, really? Sorry. We barely see each other."

“Monaco is such a big town, mate, 's easy to miss.” Max says under his breath. He fiddles with the radio for a bit, picks another playlist, a dirtier, matured selection, and lowers the volume, like Charles doesn’t know what he’s up to. Max does certain things, to focus. To calibrate, not just his car, but Charles, too, like an engineer. Rile him up, drag him back down. “You look nice, by the way.” Max adds, nonchalantly. He lays one hand on the back of Charles' neck and squeezes. “‘had fun? Where did you go?”

Charles hiccups on a breathless little laugh, and then another, louder one. He is sticky, red and disheveled. His hair is a mess. But Max has jerked off watching him wash yellow puke off his sleeves in a dirty bathroom sink. He’s seen Charles after maman got too bold with her scissors and ran his fingers through his hair with a stupid look on his face. Max is the easiest hookup of his life. And the most complicated. “Oh, you wouldn’t know the place. Max. La Grand Corniche, then. Allez.” Charles says, instead of, you’re so sweet. Don’t bother.

He’s not a dramatic person.

Once upon a time, he didn’t think about Max’s hands at all. Definitely not the way he does now, how they look on the steering wheel of a sports car, how they feel, inside him, barely outside, inside again, wet, dry, wrapped around his cock, covered with tape, and the marks they leave behind, the weight they carry, hours later, when Max is gone but Charles isn’t, and nothing lingers quite like being held by someone who could break him, and never does. Never rushes. Takes his time. A racing driver who takes his time.

•••

Go karts are quiet before the start. Charles only qualified below third a handful of times, and one of those times, Max didn’t beat his lap, either. It wasn’t often that they were next to each other. Behind each other, in front of each other, but it was strange, and startling, to glance at the space to his right and find Max’s head already turned in his direction. Waiting.

Max held up his glove, and Charles watched as he brought his hand up to his own helmet and tapped on it, twice. Charles mirrored him, instinctively, and realized he’d forgotten to shut his visor.

He flickered it closed. There was a hint of something scary, there, something reckless, and oddly satisfying. Kind of like standing too close to open flame. Flame that you own, that belongs to you. Flame you can lick off skin, and spit down a cupid's bow. A Strange feeling. It'll pass. They raced. Poorly, by all accounts. Charles isn’t sure who won that time, if they finished the circuit at all.

Some weekends it only took seeing the CRG motorhome to get a twitch in his jaw. It'll pass.

He could find out, if he wanted, about their gokart classifications. Maman kept all his karting notebooks, even the stupid Spiderman ones. He hopes Max never asks to see those, although they’ve spoken about it. Max has vivid memories of Charles sitting next to his father in snack bars all over Europe, scribbling away after races. He told Charles he thought it was ‘impressive’ for a kid to have such an analytical mind. Charles was writing mean things about him. Whole pages. Sometimes racing had nothing to do with it. Just fucking mean shit. Big lips. Gay. Gay hands. My friends think you’re a cocksucker. I agree. If Max ever reads those pages--Charles doesn't know what he'd do. Max is a stranger he knows all too well. For a long time Charles made the mistake of underestimating just how fucking crazy Jos Verstappen's son was. Jos Verstappen's son would skim through Charles' Spiderman notebooks and sigh and purse his lips. Those fucking lips of his.

They’re adults now. Max chased to claim and he claimed Charles the moment they met. Why he still bothers to chase him, Charles doesn't know.

A week after the tournament, back in Monaco, Charles noticed a tiny crack on his practice helmet. He tapped on it with his finger. His heart beat faster, and he tapped on it again. He flickered his visor shut, then opened it once more.

It didn’t pass.

•••

Charles puts his head out of the window, then his shoulders and finally his waist. He holds onto the roof of the car for balance and keeps one leg hooked under the seat, just in case. He’s not that drunk anymore.

Warm air hits his face, thick and suffocating like the blow of an exhaust pipe. Max says something, probably a little annoyed, get down, but Charles isn’t listening. He takes a deep breath and screams, hard enough to make his throat hurt, “Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck you. Que veux-tu de moi? “His voice breaks. Charles heaves, laughs, tries again. “Fuck you.”

He gets no answer, nothing but the quiet echo of the night, the infinite stretch of the sea, a platform of darkness held suspended in some planet, of some universe, that is both uncaring as it is merciless. Charles hits the roof with a closed fist. “You see?” He yells. “You see what I get, Max? I get nothing.”

He tries to breathe in some fresh air, catch some of the cooler breeze. No relief. It’s too warm.

The car is too fucking warm when he slides back inside.

He slumps down on his seat with sweat pouring down his back, his shorts rucked up into the crease of his thighs. He spreads his legs under the glove box, arches his spine against the sticky leather, panting. He puts his hand on the ventilators and feels nothing. The AC isn’t on. Why the hell isn’t the AC on? Max is a fucking furnace.

“Can you, sweetheart, please—can you turn on the air conditioner? I’m begging you.” Charles heaves. He reaches for the touch screen and Max lets go of the handbrake to grab his wrist and hold it still. Max isn’t looking at him. His eyes are glued to the road, red but still watchful. Charles’ panic morphs into an urge of a different kind. Ah, but that is what he came for. That unshakable focus. All to himself.

“It’s on. 'have to wait a bit, yeah.” Max says, voice curt. He blows out a breath and adds, "You could've fucking dented my car, mate."

“Aw, but it's too hot. I'm not thinking right. Look. Regarde moi, putain."

Max huffs, drags a hand across his face. He looks at Charles, finally, and smiles. “I am. I like you like this.” Charles purses his lips and pretends that doesn’t make him blush.

His heartbeat quickens, still, as Max’s foot gets heavier on the pedal. They go faster on the straight. His stomach drops to his gut. “You're not angry?" He leans in to kiss the corner of Max’s lips again, but Max tilts his head. It catches him off-guard, and his heart soars. He makes a noise that Max definitely hears over the music and he doesn’t care.

Every time they kiss Charles forgets himself. It’s never like that, with other people. He's addicted to it, the ease with which they fall into each other. The way Max's spit coats his tongue and his lips, and when they part for air he takes Charles’ weight over the console and lets Charles hide his face in the curve of his shoulder. He lets Charles touch his waist, his stomach, his chest, every part of him he can reach, even the dampness under his arms. Max keeps dragging his hand over Charles' back, up and down, and it’s grounding and exhilarating all at once.

Charles does have a setup. And Max knows his setups.

•••

The last time they slept together, Max left his phone behind in Charles’ living room, and Charles tiptoed into his apartment hallway and waited for the elevator to come back up. Max stumbled out of the cabin with the grace of a baby giraffe, face tired, usual spit-bitten smile, oh, Jesus, thank you, my fucking car told me, mate, because like, it didn’t connect to the blueftooh, and Charles almost asked him to stay. Almost. He thinks he might, one day. It feels that way, like they’re building into something truly terrifying. And when Charles does ask him, stay, and Max says no, because he has a family, and Charles has a girlfriend—then maybe that’s when it finally ends. Chase over. Nothing more to offer.

Or maybe Max says yes. He stays. And saying yes would mean something like, I’ll keep chasing you for as long as you'll let me. I’ll chase you forever. In Monza, in a red racing suit, what could that possibly fucking mean? Jos Verstappen' son, what could he possibly fucking mean?

Charles likes to pull things apart so he can put them back together. Like puzzle pieces. Max’s piece never fits because the whole point is to build around him.

•••

It’s late. He’s in a funk. Max has terrible taste in music.

Charles buries his hand between Max’s thighs and squeezes Max’s cock through his briefs “You should probably stop the car.” He whispers in Max’s ear.

The breaks screech with a sharp turn of the wheel and the car comes to a sudden halt on the side of the road. The world tilts, spins, then freezes. He fucking drifted, the asshole. Max turns the engine off, and the radio goes with it. He keeps the headlights on, though. Red and blue beacons in the dark, pointed at the ocean right below.

The cliffs are empty. He starts shimmying out of his gross shorts, max starts tugging his own shirt over his neck, and there’s nothing in this world that could stop them from coming together tonight. Nothing. Charles knows that, even if nothing else. It’s the only truth he knows, has known, since he was a kid with an open lid and Max signaled him to flick it shut. Max lowers back Charles’ seat without much finesse and Charles opens his legs to accommodate him. It's a Porsche, not a truck. He doesn't fit. But he's Max. That's not his problem.

•••

It didn't pass.

#kit writes #f1 rpf #lestappen #max/charles #🔭🔭🔭🔭#repost #shrug #long post

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petit-papillion · 9 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/petit-papillion/742595050403446784?source=share

Its sad that they didn't trust charles to be the leader of the project. Now they're talking about him learning like he was some rookie. He will be 28 when lewis arrive, in his seven season at f1. That's his prime

The story of an unexperienced charles learning by having a wdc teammate already happened in 2019. They decided to send the wdc away and supposedly were going to focus on charles as the new leader, but that never happened. And now they're selling this lewis move with the same story again, "a opportunity for charles" he will learn", as if time hasn't passed. Maybe it's because charles looks very boyish still so it's easy to sell the apprentice narrative.

Honesty I wouldn't be surprised if after 2028 max eventually decides to try ferrari, they will boot charles away without ever actually giving him the car to win and trusting him to lead the project.

Hi Anon! Respectfully, hard disagree. I don't think this is a matter of Charles being inexperienced/an apprentice, who needs someone to learn from. Charles is a very capable and accomplished driver himself. That doesn't mean there aren't still things he can learn from someone with many more years of driving experience (in a championship-winning car no less) than him. It would be the same if Alonso had joined the team. Fernando is a very cunning driver who has often used his seniority in driving experience to his advantage. To not see it as an opportunity to learn new or improve existing skills, would be foolish.

I think Ferrari also hopes Lewis' knowledge of how Mercedes operates as a team, comparing their car to the ones he drove for Merc, etc. will be beneficial to help the Ferrari team grow. There are many reasons for Ferrari to want Lewis on their team, that are not needing someone else to lead the project.

Time will tell whether I am right in my assumptions, but I truly believe that they are not discarding Charles as their hope for next WDC. They know that Charles is extremely well liked all around, he is a marketing dream, the tifosi worship the ground he walks on, and after everything he has been through (both in his personal life and with Ferrari), it would be a true fairy tale if he was the one to bring the championship home again at last.

As for Ferrari booting Charles out for Max... Not going to say "inconceivable", because stranger things have happened in F1, but I'd find it highly unlikely with the current people in place at Ferrari, and what I know about Max (which, granted, is not a lot). Let's not forget they were at risk of losing Charles after Silverstone, and they ended up replacing Binotto with Fred, who has a strong relationship with Charles (and Lewis for that matter). And then they gave Fred pretty much free rein to hire/fire as he saw fit to make the team stronger, (with some of the first people to go being those who did not appear to be supporting Charles as the #1 driver).

I do feel like there is a risk of Lewis getting credit for turning the team around when he arrives in 2025, when it is clear that Fred has been working hard to make changes since he started last year. And Charles's input is clearly more valued now. His feedback/suggestions being implemented in car development, strategy, etc. So I really hope that Ferrari can already show this year that they are making giant steps forward, and Charles can pocket a decent number of podiums/wins. Of course there's no telling how dominant the Newey/RB/Max combo will be this year. We may just be looking at another season ending with 23/24 wins by RBR...

In closing, here is a lovely quote from John Elkann at the 2023 Las Vegas Grand Prix: "Charles is a very strong driver with enormous potential, and there is no reason why he cannot become world champion."

#sorry this got so long #as i've said before #i may be delulu #but i have complete faith in charles #and in fred #fingers crossed my posts all age well!!#anon ask #charles leclerc #fred vasseur #lewis hamilton #lewis to ferrari #john elkann

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writteninthegarden · 3 years ago

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Vacation

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

18+ Minors, please DNI

A/N: Trying out writing in first person, which I know can be hit or miss with fics. When I’m writing I just default to first person and edit it later. Needed a lighthearted timeout from reality, so I pulled out this WIP.

Summary: Aaron and the BAU are put on a mandated leave after the higher ups were less than pleased with the Doyle takedown. So, Reader, Aaron, and Jack head to Pennsylvania for a few days to meet and stay with Reader’s older sister, Whitney. Whitney sits Aaron down alone for a little talk. Late that night, Aaron and Reader try to discretely get it on…without waking up the whole house.

Word Count: 3,700

Warnings/Contents: NSFW (likely safe until the spicy ending), grossing Jack out with PDA, big sister has a talk with Aaron, Reader and Aaron stealthily have sex

My sister Whitney called me the next day while I was still at Aaron’s place. We were just kind of lounging around after making breakfast so I snuck into Aaron’s home office to talk to her.

“So the kids and I miss you, sis. What are the chances you might get some time off to visit?”

“You know I could probably swing that. My probationary period with the new department is up. When were you thinking?”

“Maybe later this month? You should totally bring your mysterious DILF boyfriend too.”

“Whitney! Don’t say things like that. Oh, my god. But he has Jack and travels a lot for work often with no notice.”

“Jack is of course welcome too. Max has bunk beds he’d love to share. Little sister, do I need to ask your boyfriend for you? Give him the phone. Come on.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll mention it, okay? I just can’t promise anything.”

“That’s all I ask. Say, what did you say his last name is?”

“I didn’t. You won’t find him on social media, Whit.”

“That’s totally not at all why I asked, but if it were…I suppose good to know.”

“Sure. Listen, I should go, but I’ll request some time off and ask Aaron too.”

“Great, text me when you know more. Love you!”

“Love you too! Bye.”

“Sorry guys, that was my sister calling.”

“Don’t be sorry for talking to your family, sweetie.”

“Yeah, don’t be sorry, sweeeeeetie!” Jack repeated back, cracking himself up per usual. I tried to hide my smirk. Aaron had mentioned that he didn’t want to encourage Jack to mimic.

“She asked if I can swing a trip to see her and the kids maybe next month some time.”

“That would be great. I remember you said it’s been a while since you’ve seen her.”

“She also asked if you guys would come, but I reminded her how work can be.” I sat down on the middle couch cushion since Jack had claimed my end seat.

“Babe, I do get vacation time you know.” He raised his eyebrows as he said it.

“You mean they haven’t opted you out of that by now? You never get to use it so I just didn’t want to tie up some of the only time you get away.”

“You’re not tying anything up. Please if anything you might be the push I need to actually take time away. Even I’ll admit I’m terrible at that. Besides, we’d love to meet Whitney and your niece and nephew. Right, Jack?”

“Are they babies or big kids?”

“My nephew Max is 5 and he just got bunk beds in his room if you’d like to stay with him, Jack. We can also set up a bed in another space though if you like that idea better.”

“Do I have to choose now?”

“No, not at all, honey. Think it over. We can do a video call with them too if you’d like to say hi before we get down there.”

“Sounds like we’re off to Pennsylvania! Our first trip, guys” Aaron added enthusiastically.

“We can take my car there.”

“Can I drive?” Aaron looked so hopeful.

“No.” He pouted at that. “Okay, maybe Hotchner.”

Remarkably, just a week later we were packing for our trip. I let Aaron drive my car. I think he feels restless being the passenger, so I didn’t mind. We had about a four and a half hour drive to my sister’s house. Jack fell asleep when we were a little over an hour in.

“So honestly I still can’t believe you were able to swing the time off. How did that really happen?”

“Truthfully, babe I wasn’t completely sure either until yesterday. To make a long story short, the bosses did not all approve of my team’s approach to take down the unsub who attacked Emily. We’re all going to be fine, but were notified yesterday that we are on a paid leave. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday. They dragged it out and didn’t notify me until after 5pm. Then, by the book, I had to formally notify everyone on the team individually which took some time.”

“It’s okay, hun. I was running around to finish packing. I’m glad you’re telling me now.” I patted his forearm. “How did the team take the news?”

“Eh, better than when Emily came back to help us catch the bastard. Morgan was upset that I had them all sit down with me for a grief counseling meeting. Reid also took it pretty hard.”

“Oh, crap…I didn’t realize you met with them for grief counseling. Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have been thrilled either, but that’s weird for everyone in retrospect, including you.”

“Yeah. I’d rather they’re angry at me than Emily.”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t a good time to go away. I feel kind of selfish pulling you away just to come meet my sister.”

“What? Sweetheart, there will always be something going on that makes it not the perfect time. I’m looking forward to this trip and meeting your sister. Jack’s excited. I hadn’t thought about it, but this is likely the first trip I’ve taken him somewhere more than an overnight. He’s been on some trips with Haley and Jessica, but I rarely could go or stay the whole time.”

“Wow. This is the first time the Hotchner men take a vacation?”

“I think so” he said with a chuckle. “So if anything you should feel accomplished for making that happen.” He smirked to himself. “Oh, how about this? This is the first time I packed a suitcase and did not bring a single suit.”

“What?” I brought my hand up to his forehead. “You must have a fever or something!” He moved my hand from his forehead and held it, resting his arm on the center console. He looked over at me with a smile so big that I then became the one with a fever.

“You promise you’re not bummed we’re not going to a tropical umbrella garnishing your drink destination?”

“Do I look like someone who would order that type of drink? Y/N, I promise. It’s travel that isn’t for work and I have you and the nap king here.”

“Thank you, Aar. It means a lot that we can do this.”

When we arrived I showed Aaron where he should park and then I helped Jack pack up his tablet and word search book he brought for the car ride.

“I’ll come back to grab the suitcases. I just need to find my-”

I handed Aaron his phone. He must’ve been nervous because he otherwise has his phone glued to him.

“Thanks, babe” he replied as he took it from me and slid it in his jeans pocket.

“Ahem” I jokingly said as I stepped closer to him.

He got the blatant hint and leaned over to give me a quick G rated peck on the lips.

“Ewww” Jack inserted as he shielded his eyes. Clearly he was reaching the age where things like this were gross.

Aaron liked to egg him on sometimes. “Sorry, buddy” he said as he covered Jack’s eyes with his hand. Then he leaned in for another and slightly longer kiss. He ended it by kissing my cheek a few times and audibly making sounds like, “muah.” Then he moved his hand from Jack’s eyes and ruffled his hair.

“Daddy! I could still hear you kissing!”

“One day you’ll understand, bud” Aaron said with a smirk as he held out his hand for Jack to take.

Jack hoisted his backpack on his other shoulder and took Aaron’s hand. “Not me! No way!”

As we approached the front door to my sister’s house Jack’s focus shifted. “Can I ring the bell? Please?”

“Go for it, Jack. Just press it one time, okay? They have a dog who gets really excited when someone is at the door. She’s a friendly dog though, don’t worry. She loves kisses too.”

“Arghh” Jack groaned.

Jack had barely rang the bell when the door opened and I saw my sister.

“Hi! Come on in, you guys! I’m so excited you’re here!”

I’d warned Aaron that Whitney was high energy, but I’m sure this confirmed it.

“Whitney, this is Aaron, my boyfriend, and his son, Jack. Guys, this is my big sister Whitney.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Whitney. Y/N has told us great things and fun stories from your adventures. Thank you so much for having us.”

“Of course. I was just delighted when Y/N said you all could come visit. Which reminds me, thank you Aaron because I’m sure you helped convince my little sis. Here, let me show you where you can put your bags. Y/N, I know you did not travel this light. Can I help with the other bags?”

“No, but thank you” Aaron jumped in. “I’ll run down and grab them.”

For a brief moment, Aaron had his back to us, which was when Whitney decided to silently mouth “he’s so hot!” and gave me a thumbs up. I gave her my signature sibling glare in reply.

“Say, if you guys want we can go hang out by the pool. Max is swimming with a friend. Zoe is begrudgingly keeping an eye on them until I come back.”

“Where is your four legged fur baby?”

“Out for a run with Danny. That’s new for both of them, but he thought it might calm her down a little.”

“Gotcha. I was just telling Jack about her as we walked up.”

I had taken Jack and Max with me to the store and bribed them with the promise of picking out the ice cream we’d buy.

What I didn’t realize was with my niece at dance practice that left Aaron alone to be interrogated by Whitney most likely.

Back at the house

“Aaron, do you mind if we sit down and chat?”

“Not at all. Let’s have the chat.”

“Hmm, you expected this?” Whitney sat down in the patio chair across from Aaron.

“I thought it might come up. I’m the oldest child too. Fire away.”

“Okay…I’ll start with an easy one then. Do you have many siblings?”

“Just one younger brother, Sean.”

“Are you two close?”

“Unfortunately, no. We’ve grown apart as adults.” Aaron looked at Whitney, but his gaze revealed his mind was somewhere distant.

“That’s a shame. I’m assuming you know Y/N and I are very close.”

“Yes, I can tell from the way she talks about you, the kids, and growing up.” He smiled and did his best to not let it appear forced.

“So I know her very well and can tell of course she loves you…possibly loves your son more at times, but you two are neck and neck. I’d be a bad big sis if I didn’t vet you.”

Aaron chuckled. “Yes, she’s been absolutely amazing with Jack and he adores her too. To be completely candid, the number of terrible things that happened over the past year felt at times like a bad horror movie that never seemed to end. I know it was not easy for Y/N to navigate any of that, especially as you’re newly dating someone and trying to figure out where you stand in it all. I’m incredibly lucky to have her in my life.”

“Do you understand that now? Are you done breaking up with her when you’re leaving town?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Yes. Whitney, I love your sister very much.”

“I believe you. I’m still going to shoot it straight with you” she said as she leaned back, relaxing the slightest bit.

“Of course.”

“Aaron, I can’t even imagine the hell you’ve been through and I want you to know I understand that was all out of your control. What’s in your control is what you decide to put my sister through in the midst of all that. She is committed to you and Jack and we both know she’s all in. She has shown you she’s willing to ride out the craziest of times with you. You need to either let her in completely or cut her loose. It’s not fair to let her go through it all only to be frozen out afterwards.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“She’s so in love with you that she’s instantly drawn back whenever you’re back in her orbit. She’s a great partner and deserves to get back that same level of support. She could be happy with someone else, but she doesn’t seem to want to be if you’re not there. I don’t mean that to sound like an ultimatum.”

“It doesn’t. I’m far from perfect and Y/N knows that I can be incredibly dumb when it comes to dating. Now I know what it’s like to worry that I’ve lost her. I don’t want to feel that again.”

“And you don’t want her to feel that again either?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve hurt her. In the moment I thought I was doing what was best, but now in hindsight I see the damage I caused.”

“Good. This is helpful for me to hear your input. I won’t lie to you, Aaron. From the sound of it, I thought you were just another asshole playing games. I’m realizing I may have been wrong. Usually I hate being wrong, but this time obviously is a little different.”

“I can respect that initial impression. No one likes being wrong, but here’s hoping I can continue to prove that first impression wrong.” Aaron raised his glass of iced tea as a toast.

“Cheers” Whitney replied as she brought her glass to meet his. “Can I ask you one more thing and then I’ll stop the interrogation?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Please tell me what she’s like at work. I’ve waited years to get stories, but no luck!”

Aaron smirked and lightly laughed. “She’s a force to be reckoned with I imagine. Sadly, our teams typically don’t overlap so we haven’t worked a case together.”

“Darn. Can you find a white-collar criminal who also is a serial killer so we can make that happen? Kidding of course. I think they just pulled in the driveway. When my sister asks, feel free to keep her guessing what we talked about. Can’t keep it going too long or she’ll get worked up, but definitely have some fun with it.”

They both laughed as they walked outside to help with the groceries.

After dinner I got Aaron alone for a few minutes out on the patio while the kids played a racing game on Max’s X-Box. He sat down and pulled me into his lap, planting a kiss on my cheek as we settled in.

“Aaron, I’m so sorry if you got stuck with ‘the talk’ earlier. I didn’t realize you were in the danger zone until we were in the store and pieced it together.”

He chuckled. “It was fine, babe. Don’t even worry for a second. Whitney is a great big sister to you.”

“Do I want to know what she asked you?”

“No, probably not. It could get awkward if you knew she reminded me you’re waiting until marriage to have sex.”

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, you just set me up perfectly.” He grinned at me and if his dimpled smile wasn’t so cute he’d be in trouble.

“That’s great. Keep it up, Hotchner” I lowered my voice to a whisper right by his ear “and you’ll be the one waiting until…a long time to have sex.”

“Were you going to say I’d be waiting until marriage?”

“I was, but then I caught myself to try and avoid this awkwardness.”

“Why is it awkward?”

“I don’t know. I guess because you’ve already done the marriage thing so it didn’t really make sense.”

“Are you hoping you’ll do the marriage thing some day?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s not awkward. Baby, you don’t have to pretend you have no interest in things like getting married just because I’ve done it before.”

“Okay.”

“I’d be open to it, you know. If I met the right person that is of course” he said as he raised his eyebrows. He leaned over to kiss me, but kept it a PG kiss knowing we could have an audience.

“Of course. We can’t marry you off to just anyone. Rossi would never have such a thing.”

He laughed at that. “That’s funny and likely very true. I love you, baby.” He squeezed me to pull me in closer.

“I love you too, handsome…even though baby is not your pet name to use.”

“Ah, but that’s part of why I love you…because you’ll share it with me.”

“And what if I refuse?”

Just then I felt a light smack on my ass. “That’s what.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep refusing in that case” I whispered.

“Suite yourself.” He moved in for another kiss, but I intercepted him and tapped my index finger against his lips.

“Hey, did Whitney go over the sleeping arrangements with you?”

“No, but Jack seems on board to stay with Max.”

“Oh, I meant for where she’d like you to sleep. I’m sorry, but she’s just kind of old fashioned.”

“Ah, she didn’t, but that’s not a problem” he said, ever the gentleman. “Just show me where to go.”

“I definitely will. You’ll just have to be extremely quiet.”

“What do you mean? Is everyone trying to sleep already?”

I couldn’t contain the smile that spread across my face.

“Are you screwing with me now?”

“Turnabout is fair play, baby.”

Later that night I climbed in bed next to Aaron who seemed to be engrossed in something on his phone.

“Work stuff or are you stuck on a candy crush level?”

“I’m just forwarding emails to Dave. Sorry, babe. That should be the extent of it. Ironically enough, the person who seemed all too delighted to inform me of the mandated leave now wants our help.”

“Aaron, it’s okay. You said Dave has covered for you before, so I’m sure he knows the drill, but if keeping an eye, a limited eye, on your email helps you to feel more comfortable with being away I’m fine with that.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes. How else will I ease you into being okay with taking time off more down the line?”

“So your approach to getting me to turn work off on vacation is being cool about me not turning work off on vacation…”

“Exactly. That and offering you other engaging activities…” Let’s just say I could tell that got his attention.

“Sorry. I know this isn’t the time or place. Just ignore it.”

“I mean…we could if we’re extremely quiet and careful. Also, sorry but I don’t want to ignore it.” I ran my hand down his t-shirt covered chest and continued down beneath the comforter to palm his erection.

He tried to shift me beneath him, but I stopped him.

“Absolutely not.” I whispered softly. He gave me such a confused look. “The mattress is way too squeaky. Get up and stand by the foot of the bed.”

“Okay. Wait, does that door lock?”

“No, but that’s why I moved my suitcase in front of it.”

“Crafty woman.”

“Take your shirt off. You don’t have to wear that to bed.”

“Hmm, bossy. I figured I’d sleep in clothes in case I need to get up for the bathroom and be out in the hall.”

“Makes sense, but right now I need you naked.” I untied his sweatpants and slid them down his legs. “Okay, the floor won’t creak over here. You’ll have to take me from behind.”

“No. Come here.” He whispered before pulling me into him to kiss me. “You’re getting awfully demanding. Now I’m going to fuck you and I’ll keep it quiet…but I’m doing it my way. I’m going to lift you up. Don’t squeal when I do.”

I nodded and wrapped my legs around his waist when he lifted me up.

“That’s my good girl. You can stay quiet, right? Are you ready?”

I nodded again and crashed my lips down on his. My hands ran all through his hair, desperate to grasp on to something. I knew we’d have to be quick so I figured some motivation couldn’t hurt.

“Aaron, I love you so much.” I whispered right in his ear. “Fuck me hard with that big cock. It’s all I thought about all night.”

That definitely helped. I didn’t expect him to be able to hold me up, but he did. The whole thing was so damn hot too. He came pretty fast and this was one of the few times I wished we had a condom just for the easier clean up. We made it work with tissues and I made a mental note to covertly dump that trash can tomorrow.

After he cleaned up, Aaron pulled his sweatpants back on. He searched around the room for his t-shirt until he saw me in it sitting on the bed.

“I should’ve known.”

“Oh, did you need this? I told you that you don’t have to overdress for bed.”

He started to climb on the bed and move towards me. He moved his forefinger over his lips to remind me to be quiet. I guess he knew me well enough to know I could be jumpy and startle.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me down alongside him to cuddle.

“So I have no shirt on and you only have my shirt on. I’m just going to have to keep you close tonight.”

“I can live with that.” I turned in his arms so I could see his face and also so I could cuddle into his warm chest. “I feel like a high schooler who just snuck her boyfriend in her room. You know, I kind of wish I knew you then.”

“No you don’t. I was such a punk.”

“Aaron Hotchner the rule breaker. Who would’ve thought?”

“I know. Let’s get some sleep before we break any other rules tonight.”

~Next part to follow~

Taglist: @itsmytimetoodream @rousethemouse

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #Criminal Minds #hotch #criminal minds fanfiction

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garbagevanfleet · 4 years ago

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: None yet. Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you.

MASTERPOST

taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed @satingrass-maidensfair

The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans.

It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days.

You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor.

Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down.

You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it.

You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little.

An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages.

After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word.

The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm.

“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand.

You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived. “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.

A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”

He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you.

“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.”

You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”

You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know.

“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”

It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”

He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”

You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.”

“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice

“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”

“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”

You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming.

He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?”

You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”

“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.

The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it.

“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked.

You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”

You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for.

“I think I can live with that.”

“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”

There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy.

“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk.

He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.”

He grinned as you teasingly shook your head.

“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”

You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect.

“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”

He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again.

“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”

He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”

You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.

“Deal,” you agreed.

You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping).

One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.

When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency.

Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to.

“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited.

You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves.

“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”

You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”

He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”

“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on.

“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”

“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.

“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall.

The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours.

He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it.

“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.

He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”

You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”

The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”

Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”

Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”

“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”

“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.

You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again.

He stood back up, so you did as well.

“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out.

By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos.

You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs.

“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”

You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh.

“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?”

“I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”

You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”

He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”

The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them.

“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile.

A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off.

“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”

You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”

The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?”

“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”

“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”

He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.

“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”

He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.”

“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull.

You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?”

You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”

“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”

You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”

“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.

“See to it that you do.”

Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!

#josh fic #josh kiszka fic #josh x reader #joshxreader #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #brightest blue fic

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gayaristocrat · 4 years ago

Text

Billy Hargrove A-Z Smut Game

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male Reader

Tags: @luns-world , hope you enjoy it. And thank you so much for requesting this!

Request: Hi I LOVED your billy a-z fluff if you are doing requests can you do another billy a-z but smut? Or headcanon

Reading Key:

L/L = Leg Length

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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Billy tends to put all of his force and energy into sex, which in turn leaves him breathless and tired. After making sure you are satisfied he’ll just roll over on the other side of the bed and lay on his back with one arm resting under his head as he allows you to rest on top of his sweaty body and cuddle into his heaving chest. He takes his free arm and wraps it around you as you both calm down from your high, enjoying each others presence. After a couple of minutes of catching his breath, Billy will then hop back up with a sly smirk and ask “Ready for another round hot stuff?”.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Billy without a doubt loves your (L/L) legs. He is completely in love with the way your legs wrap around his neck when he decides to give you a blowjob. He also likes it when you wrap your legs around his waist when he thrusts himself inside you, making him shove his dick deeper inside you causing you to desperately hold onto him as you moan in his ear while he whispers dirty things in your ear. “Fuck baby, you like when I dick you down like this, huh? Such a naughty boy, only I can see you like this, right my little slut?”

Your favorite body part of Billy’s are definitely his abs. Whenever you grind on him, his abs help add tension on your cock making you cling onto him tighter, needing to feel more pleasure as you grind faster. Billy will just sit back and watch as you become desperate, craving your sweet release. Not only are Billy’s abs great to grind on, but they look amazing when he plays basketball, or when he is on his job as a lifeguard. Watching as beads of sweat travel and roll down his body, making sure to gloss up his abs, catching the eye of every girl and married woman at the pool. Billy enjoys taking his shirt off every chance he gets, fully knowing that every women will watch him with lustful eyes. But honestly, he doesn’t intend to do it for anybody else, he only does it to tease you and make you flustered, which he successfully does without fail.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Billy enjoys blowjobs and lets you blow him anytime you want, because lets be honest, this man has a high sex drive and as long as he gets to have some kind of sex with you, he will be happy. Whenever you blow him, he always makes sure to blow his load all over your face. Believe it or not, he also loves when you snowball with him. SO basically, after Billy is finished destroying your throat from his harsh face fucking, he pulls his cock out of your mouth and spills his thick, hot, sticky load all in your mouth. After he drains his cock, you stand up off of your knees and gently grab his face as you bring your faces close together into a passionate kiss, fighting each other with your tongues and swapping his cum back and forth into each other’s mouths.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Billy’s dirty secret is that he is a slight masochist for hair pulling. Whether its you grabbing fist-fulls of his curly blond hair, or biting and pulling at his pubic hair. If you are comfortable and are into playing with Billy’s armpits, then pulling on his armpit hair with your teeth is also something he loves too.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Do we really have to get into this? Billy totally knows what he’s doing. He has plenty of experience on his hands, before getting with you he use to have sex with a lot of women almost every day because to him sex was just nothing but a fun activity to do when he was bored. Billy wanted to be loyal to you and only love you, so he stopped all of that when started dating you. He stopped having sex with people and only did it with you, and when he did, he always knew the right way to make you scream and moan in ecstasy.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Billy’s favorite position is the seashell. Not only does it give him better access to attack your prostate dead on, but it also allows him to be as close to you as possible. It gives Billy great satisfaction to see you wither below him from the pleasure he gives you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Billy isn’t really the kind of person to make sex a laughing matter or something to joke about. Every now and then you do try to make Billy loosen up a little bit, and get him to laugh.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Billy likes to keep things on the wild side, so lets just say that it looks like a forest down there. He likes to keep himself pretty hairy because he enjoys making you inhale deep breaths of his musky smell, especially when he gets done working out and getting himself all sweaty.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Billy tends to be kind of rough during sex. So you should expect to be begging him to slow his thrusts down and to be more gentle, but Billy’s sadistic ass will only laugh at how weak you’ve become under him. But if Billy is feeling generous or if he’s in a good enough mood, he will slow down for you until you are ready for him to pick up the pace.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Billy only jacks off when he wants to make you become even more needy during sex. You two will do a challenge where he jacks himself off in front of your face as you sit there without touching yourself until you are begging him to let you suck his cock, promising him that you will be a good boy and do any and everything he says.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Billy no doubt has a praise kink. It makes his ego high, and it builds up his confidence when you praise his body, and when you praise him for making you feel good and hitting the right spot. Billy is also a sucker for dirty talk, whether is him whispering it to you in your ear, or its coming form you. “Do you like when my cock is destroying your tight little asshole (y/n)?” or “Which hole should I destroy first (y/n), huh? Should I use your mouth as my cock sleeve, or should I just use your tight little asshole as a cum dump instead?”

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

It doesn’t really matter where you two have sex, as long as he can tap that sweet ass of yours he’ll be completely satisfied. Although, he does enjoy when you to are able to be in a comfortable place to have sex like the bedroom or the couch.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you really wanna see Billy act up, then don’t be afraid to call him daddy. It always makes him feel dominate since he constantly gives off that alpha wolf type of aura.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Billy will never force you to have sex with him if your not in the mood. Even while you two are having sex and at any time you tell him to stop, Billy will quickly comply and stop everything he’s doing and comfort you if you need him. Growing up Billy always understood that no means no and will never under any circumstances make you feel guilty for it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Billy doesn’t mind giving or receiving blowjobs. He understands that he can get a little carried away when he face fucks you. So as an apology, Billy will do the same for you and deep throat you, and he will allow you to go as hard or as soft as you want to. Hell, he’ll even allow you to face fuck him until he is gagging on your dick if you want to.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Billy is naturally fast pace during sex, he loves trying to see how he can build up the intensity of pleasure, and how far he can get the both of you. He also likes it rough, so expect a lot of dirty talk, biting, and a very rough handsy Billy. Billy enjoys leaving behind bruises and bite marks so that way people will always remember who you belong to, and let’s just say that you always wear them with pride.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Billy loves quick sex just as much as he loves slow sex. Whenever he is on a time crunch, quickies tend to come in handy. Weather it’s in his car before he has to pick up max, or before he has to go to work.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Billy is a complete risk taker. Whenever he is at work and you two decide to have sex on his lunch break in the locker rooms, he will make sure to leave the door unlocked and he’ll make you face the door as he fucks you from behind. It gives both of you a thrill just thinking about someone walking in on you two banging away. Sometimes Billy will even tease you saying “Look at yourself baby boy, getting off at the though of someone walking in on me fucking your hot boy pussy like the little slut you are”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Billy can usually go about 3 rounds, after that he will need to take a couple of minutes to gain back some of his energy before going back at it again.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Billy use to use dildos and vibrator on you when you two first started dating, but he stopped using them on you because every time you would plead and beg for his cock. But don’t worry, he’ll get them out without hesitation when you feel like you want to do some foreplay “p...please, nothing will ever be as good as Daddy Billy’s cock”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you didn’t get the hint from what I previously stated, Billy is extremely unfair. He loves seeing for far he can get before pushing you over the edge. Not only does he make you beg to be stuffed with his cock, but he also will make you beg him to allow you cum. If you just so happen to cum without his permission he will make sure to punish you by making you cum many times until you cant anymore.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Billy let’s out loud beastly moans, so that way you can know how much pleasure you are giving him. As a result, hearing his moans will make you a complete mess under him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

One day you and Billy decided to go on a date to the movies and see A Nightmare on Elm Street. As the movie was playing, Billy would take quick glances over at you in the seat next to him, he watched intensely every time your tongue would slightly dart out of your mouth to catch the buttery popcorn in your hands as you watched the movie. He couldn’t help but imagine sinful thoughts of you using your tongue on his cock, attacking it with kitten licks as he cums all over your face. Billy cursed at himself as he can feel himself growing in his already tight blue jeans, making them even tighter. Giving into his urges, he looks around only to see that the very top row in the movies theatre you two were sitting in was completely empty along with the row in front of you two. Billy leans over to whisper to you, careful as to not let other people in the rows below you two hear him speak.

“Hey (y/n), what would happen if you just casually blew me...right here...right now?”

“Hmm...” you say with a sky smirk turning to him, you reach over to his seat and place a strong hold on the growing bulge in his jeans “How about we find out for ourselves daddy”

Lets just say that the employee who cleans up the movie theatre after every showing unfortunately had a very big and sticky mess to clean up off of the floor.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

The first time you guys talked to each other, you turned to your friend as Billy was walking away and whispered to them and said “I know his dick is big, I know it, I know it’s big. I mean...oh god my heart hurts”. Which you were absolutely right, Billy is indeed long, thick, and with a nice red tip.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Once again like I said before, Billy has a pretty high sex drive, so you can always look forward to ending everyday by having sex before you two go to bed at night.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Billy will always be the first one to fall asleep, because after all he is a hard working man. Even though he falls asleep first. he will unconsciously cuddle close to you in his arms and spend the rest of the day enjoying each other as you both rest peacefully.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too!

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queenshelby · 3 years ago

Text

A New Life

Part Four: A Day at the Zoo

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,790

Warning: Fluff, Self-Esteem Issues, Body Image Issues

The following morning, Cillian picked you and Max up from your house at 8 o’clock after having borrowed a car seat from Cian.

‘Thank you for taking us to the Zoo, Cillian’ Max said excitedly as Cillian helped him into his seat.

‘That’s alright buddy’ Cillian said and you couldn’t help but be a little bit excited. Whilst you never liked going to the Zoo, you liked the fact that you and Max got to spend the day with Cillian.

He had a fantastic sense of humour and Max really seemed to like him which put you at ease quite significantly.

After Max and you sat down in the car, Cillian opened two of the windows slightly and told you that he had put some sickie bags and wet wipes into the glove box for Max just in case you needed them. Another thing he remembered was that Max often got car sick and he certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it. In fact, he was quite well prepared.

To your surprise, Max did well in the car and was fascinated with some of the gadgets, including the TV screens in the back.

‘Made it without Max getting sick. That’s new. Thank you for taking it easy around the corners’ you said, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘You are welcome’ Cillian said before helping Max out of the car and picking up his plush bunny toy which had fallen to the floor.

‘That’s one well loved rabbit’ Cillian observed as he looked at the rather old and half destroyed fluffy toy and you explained to him that Max had this bunny since he’s been a baby. In fact, Cian had bought it for him when you were still pregnant with Max.

***

After twenty minutes, two cinnamon donuts and a take away coffee, you finally arrived at the tiger enclosure.

‘I can’t see, I can’t see’ Max said somewhat disappointed as the tiger was roaming around from the left to the right and he was simply too small to look over the larger children in front of him.

‘Sweetie, you are too heavy for me to pick up’ you said as Max pulled on your t-shirt and began to pout.

‘I can put him up on my shoulders if you want’ Cillian suggested, ensuring that you would be okay with it before saying anything to Max.

Of course, you had no objections and Max was quick to climb onto Cillian’s shoulders so that he could see the tiger, still walking from the left to the right and roaming around his enclosure.

‘Max, careful!’ you said worryingly as he was clinging onto Cillian’s hair but Cillian didn’t seem to mind.

Taking you by the hand for a brief second to pull through the crowds, Cillian moved over to the left slightly to give Max a better view and you followed him while watching Max smile with excitement.

‘Have you counted how many stripes he’s got?’ Cillian then asked your son.

‘Too many for me to count Cillian’ Max laughed before Cillian told him about the tiger, reading from the sign in front of him and asking Max questions in order to keep him engaged.

You were truly surprised how well Cillian and Max were getting on and how patient and engaging Cillian was with him.

‘Elephants next?’ Cillian asked as, eventually, the tiger went into his little cave for a rest and Max nodded.

Without Max getting down from Cillian’s shoulders, you both walked towards the Elephant enclosure.

‘Can you tell me what sounds an elephant makes?’ Cillian asked and, when Max and Cillian both pretended to be elephants, you couldn’t help but laugh.

The entire day was a blast and, for the first time in a long while, you and Max both felt comfortable being around someone new. It felt like you both had known Cillian for a long time and you were quite impressed by his character.

‘What a lovely family’ you then heard all of a sudden as one elderly women in the crowd walked past you and, whilst Cillian wanted to correct her, you simply said ‘thanks’ and laughed.

***

After your day at the zoo, Max fell asleep in the car fairly quickly and whilst you were keen to take up Cillian’s offer to have dinner in town, you didn’t think that Max would be up for it. He had a big day.

‘I am not sure if Max is up for dinner in town. He’s tuckered out completely’ you said, looking back towards him.

‘I figured that he would be tired after all this walking around’ Cillian chuckled ‘But, if you want to, I can cook something at your house instead and we can watch a movie with Max’ Cillian offered.

‘You can cook?’ you asked since no man had ever cooked for you before.

‘You seem surprised’ Cillian observed, causing you to laugh and nod before accepting his offer.

‘I suppose spaghetti would be winner, right?’ Cillian then asked and you nodded again before asking a question which you have been pondering on about for the entire day.

‘You are so good with Max. How come you never had children?’ you asked before telling Cillian that he didn’t have to answer this question if he didn’t want to.

‘My ex-wife never wanted children and I had to accept that I suppose’ Cillian explained.

‘How long were you married for?’ you then asked.

‘Ten years. But we were together for fifteen. I had one relationship after that, but it was a disaster’ Cillian chuckled and you talked about his marriage and why it ended before Cillian carefully and quietly asked about Max’s father.

You told Cillian that he had died in a car accident when Max was only two years old and that Max didn’t remember much about him.

‘We had our differences but were determined to make it work for Max. We were high school sweethearts and met when we were 16’ you explained, thinking back to all the irrational choices you made in the past.

***

An hour later, you arrived at your apartment following a small detour to the local supermarket.

‘Cillian is making us spaghetti’ you said to Max while you helped unpack the grocery bags.

‘It’s my favourite. Can I have lots of cheese please?’ Max then asked and, of course, you nodded before telling him to play in his room while you were going to help with the food.

Cillian pre-prepared the food for later with your help before you all sat down together and watched a cartoon movie which almost sent Cillian to sleep. His eyes kept shutting closed as he leaned against the large cushion on the L-shaped lounge and you had to give him a nudge now and then to make him stay awake.

Luckily, Max lost interest in the movie after thirty minutes and asked Cillian whether he wanted to see his dinosaur collection.

Sure enough, Cillian was very interested in dinosaurs and, after they managed to give each of the toys a name, you played two games of UNO before serving dinner.

‘This is much better than mum’s spaghetti’ Max observed, causing you to pout and Cillian to apologise.

‘It is pretty good’ you observed before thanking Cillian for cooking and taking you both to the zoo.

‘We had a fantastic day, didn’t we Max?’ you said and Max nodded and yawned at the same time.

***

‘I probably should drive home soon’ Cillian said after you cleaned up the dishes and Max had changed himself into his pyjamas.

‘Do you want to stay for a wine and watch a more interesting movie after I put Max to bed?’ you then quickly asked, hoping that you wouldn’t sound too desperate.

‘I suppose I could leave the car here and pick it up tomorrow’ Cillian then said, not intending to drink and drive and you nodded in agreement.

Cillian’s house was only 20 minutes by foot from your apartment and he could easily call a taxi or sleep on your lounge if he didn’t want to walk.

‘Can Cillian read me a bedtime story then?’ Max asked, clearly having overheard your conversation.

‘If that’s alright with your mum, I sure can’ Cillian offered which prompted Max to quickly find a book and his favourite bunny toy.

Listening to Cillian read a bedtime story to Max made your heart melt once again. Not only did you think that Cillian was an incredibly kind person who was good with children, but also was he rather attractive.

Quite to your surprise, you adored the small wrinkles around his eyes and the few grey hairs on his head as his hair was growing out on the sides.

Then, of course, there were those deep blue eyes and razor-sharp cheek bones and you wondered what your mind was doing to you, feeling some sort of attraction towards a man who was clearly much older than you.

***

‘Thank you for reading to him’ you said when Cillian came back into the living and you tugged Max into bed and gave him a goodnight kiss.

‘That’s perfectly fine Y/N’ Cillian assured you before sitting down while you poured two glasses of red wine.

‘So what are we watching?’ he asked and you suggested to put something on which has him in it after Cian told you that one of Cillian’s shows was on Netflix.

You had only just signed up to Netflix when you came to Ireland as, frankly, working on TV made you less interested in watching it during your spare time but, now that you were taking some time off after having resigned as a host from one of Australia’s design shows after your ex’s constant publicly stunts, this has changed.

You hadn’t seen any of Cillian’s work yet and you certainly didn’t know much about him. Unlike he did with you, you haven’t resorted to Google yet to find out more, wanting to paint your own picture about him and not being influenced by media.

‘Absolutely not. I hate watching myself’ Cillian chuckled before suggesting a different movie on Netflix. His comment made you laugh.

‘I get that. I hate watching myself too’ you chuckled and, after he turned on the movie, it didn’t take you long to get comfortable together on your small sofa and you quite enjoyed sitting so closely next to him.

As you were sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but notice the scent of his aftershave which was musky but yet fresh and sporty. Glancing over towards him without him noticing, you quickly got mesmerised with his freckled skin and you couldn’t help your eyes from wandering further down, observing his neck and the small area of exposed skin above the neckline of his t-shirt.

Clearly, he had a little bit of chest hair. Or was it a lot? You were curious as you thought that, the way it extended above the neckline of his t-shirt looked quite sexy.

Your fixation on Cillian’s skin and scent, however, soon came to an end when you received a text message from one of your closest friends in Australia.

In her text message, she linked an article from an Australian tabloid and, whilst you knew that you should probably ignore it, you couldn’t help but click on the link.

When you opened the link you couldn’t believe your eyes. Clearly, your ex-partner had shared your last holiday pictures to a water theme park in Australia’s Northern Territory and they were far from flattering.

Cillian immediately noticed that something was wrong and paused the movie before asking you whether you were alright as tears had built up in your eyes.

‘My ex is making my life miserable’ you huffed out before telling Cillian about the unflattering pictures and comments from the tabloids.

According to the online magazine you should have chosen your outfit better to hide your scars and the publisher criticised that you were hosting a design show while, according to him, you obviously didn’t care much about your own appearances.

‘Can I see?’ Cillian asked and, whilst you were almost ashamed to show him, you did, knowing that it was on the world wide web anyway.

You saw Cillian’s eyebrows rise as he read through the article before, suddenly, he started laughing.

‘What an eejit’ he chuckled and you looked at him somewhat confused.

‘Irish for idiot’ Cillian clarified before carrying on. ‘Look, these people obviously have nothing better to do than to criticise humans for being human. You wore a bikini on a water slide. Seems logical to me. I mean what else would you wear when you visit a water park in a country where it’s so fucking hot?’ Cillian said, handing you back your phone.

‘That’s not the point Cillian. My ex knows how self-conscious I am. He continuously used to put me down and, ever since my emergency c-section when I had Max, I have been trying very hard to hide my body. Obviously, I was right to do so. I mean look at this shit now’ you said rather upset.

‘Y/N, you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You are a very attractive woman and any man out there would be lucky to have you. Despite, from what I just saw, there is nothing wrong with your body. You are stunning. You’ve got a few scars, so what?’ Cillian said reassuringly while taking your hands into his.

‘And a little baby weight I never managed to get rid of’ you chuckled and, whilst you knew it wasn’t really a big deal, you felt as though, being in the public eye required you to look perfect at all times.

‘You are perfect Y/N. You really cannot let this stuff get to you and you should tell your friend not to bother sending these things to you either’ Cillian said, knowing very well what reading bad press feels like.

‘So, you actually don’t care when you read something bad about yourself?’ you asked, not realising how much press Cillian had to deal with in comparison to you.

‘I gave up caring about twenty years ago’ Cillian chuckled. ‘You should too. It feels better that way’ he then said and you couldn’t agree more. You knew you had to care less but, the truth was, you had realised that this life wasn’t for you.

‘That’s why I gave up TV and advertising. I just want to concentrate on writing and the other things I’ve been working on’ you explained before changing the topic to something more pleasant which was your upcoming theatre date and trip to Kerry.

When you mentioned your upcoming trip to Kerry, Cillian told you that Cian invited him and Laura as well and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘So, Laura…do you like her?’ you asked.

‘She is nice I guess. But, I honestly am not interested in a relationship or dating right now’ Cillian told you before advising you that he would have to head home soon. He had an early start.

***

By the time Cillian had left it was already 9 o ‘clock and you decided to have a bath and then head into bed as well.

For a minute or two, you pondered on about the article that had been published in Australia but, then, you remembered Cillian’s words. You had to ignore them.

Instead of dwelling on about them, you felt as though you wanted to know a little more about Cillian. Until this point, you had refused to google him but you realised that you didn’t even know his surname nor did you know how old he was and you certainly didn’t want to sound weird, asking him or Cian those things.

You tried your luck putting the words ‘Cillian’, ‘Actor’ and ‘Irish’ into the search tab as, surely, there couldn’t be too many actors with his name out there.

To your surprise, his name and pictures of him popped up immediately. You didn’t have to do much investigation and you were quite shocked to see his extensive filmography.

Even more so, you were surprised by the fact that he had just recently turned 45.

‘How the fuck can this man be 45 already?’ you asked yourself silently and couldn’t help yourself flicking through the many pictures.

Going through them one by one, you realised again how handsome he was and whilst you were certainly attracted to him, the fact that he was rather famous turned you off and made it much easier for you to turn off your attraction towards him. At least so you thought.

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#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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none-but-y0u · 4 years ago

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h/c of clingy!steve and and how he starts dating again and he gets in relationships where he always feels the need to be around the person and not because he’s codependent but because he likes the feeling of being around someone who wants him around.

and this probably takes places a a year or two after starcourt happens and the kids are a little older and going through their “i don’t want to be around adults” phase which means they don’t need him as much which is fine because he knew they were going to grow up eventually and if his parents had been around he’d probably go through the same phase.

and yet, it does cause a little pinch in his chest every so often when he calls on the radio and no one picks up or when dustin cancels their movie night because he’s studying or trying (unsuccessfully) to take some girl out on a date.

so yeah, he starts dating again because what’s a sure fire way to fill the void of loneliness. and the dates always start off fine. he was king steve so he still has his moves (no matter what robin says) and he’s always able to get a few dates out of a person before they start getting annoyed with him.

he doesn’t mean to do it on purpose but sometimes the loneliness overwhelms him and the quietness of his parents house dwarfs him and he just needs to be around someone who can help him forget about it for a moment. but others don’t see it like that so when he calls them up at 3 am to see if they want to go to the quarry because his mind won’t stop racing and he’s on the verge of another breakdown, or if he stays practically plastered to their sides when they’re at big events and he’s reminded of being at these kind of events as a child and how alone he felt then and how alone he feels now, well they just don’t seem to get it. they don’t seem to get that when the world feels like it’s closing in around him, he just needs someone to stand by him and hold the gates open for him until he’s able to do it himself again.

so yeah. these relationship never last very long and he always ends up finding himself alone, cowering in the dark of his house, praying the dark of his mind doesn’t overtake him.

and then billy wakes up.

steve finds out through the grapevine one day when the kids are over and one of them briefly mentions that max is visiting billy which is why she isn’t over at the house. and some part of steve wants to know more but the kids have already moved on and he doesn’t want to waste his few moments with them talking about someone who they all have a weird history with, so he drops it.

two nights later, the thoughts start up again almost like clockwork and steve throws himself out of bed and shuffles to put his shoes on. he drives to quarry, bubbling with the feeling of an impending breakdown clawing its way inside of him, desperate to overtake him.

he pulls into the quarry, and stumbles to his spot, but when he gets there he finds that his spot has been taken.

billy looks different from before but not really. his skin looks paler but that might just be the moonlight, and his hair looks wilder but in a way that makes steve want to run his hands through it and braid it. but he keeps that thought to himself.

they don’t really talk except for when steve asks billy if he wants a smoke and billy says he’s not allowed to so they fade back into silence for the rest of the night. at the end, steve drops billy off at his government sanctioned apartment and drives back home to get two hours of sleep before he has to go to work. steve doesn’t think about billy or how he feels a little bit lighter.

it happens again a few nights later. steve brings billy a candy cigarette this time around because “i won’t feel as guilty for smoking when you can’t” billy snorts but takes it anyways. their fingers touch in the process, and steve’s fingers tingle afterwards, but he doesn’t think about that. just closes his eyes, inhales the smoke, and basks in the silence with billy.

they’ve been doing this practically all autumn now and steve’s starting to look forward to their 3 am nights. it always starts off the same, both boys still slightly awkward and quiet, but eventually they open up. steve telling billy about how lonely he gets sometimes and how he’s afraid it’s going to take him one day. billy telling steve about his dad and how even though the mind flayer was terrifying, nothing beats how scared he is of neil. and along the way steve realizes that the talking helps him not feel so overwhelmed but also the sheer fact of just being around billy fills him with this kind of peace in the pit of his stomach that’s starting to turn into something else.

but of course. all good things come to an end and winter’s coming and it’s getting too cold to meet especially with billy’s body still recovering.

steve’s driving billy home one night and billy has had a frown on his face the whole time they’ve been at the quarry and in the car and steve just knows this is going to be like all his past relationships even though they’re not even technically in a relationship but he knows it’s gonna hurt just as bad if not more.

they pull up to billy’s apartment but nobody makes a move to leave so they sit there in silence for a moment. steve’s pressing his fingers into his thighs trying to prepare himself for what he knows is about to come.

billy barely gets out the “can’t do this much longer” when steve’s nodding and trying to force his eyes to stop watering and “that’s fine. figured it’d come to an end eventually.”

billy doesn’t start to move which pisses steve off a little because most of his relationships the person can’t get away quick enough from him after they break up. steve wishes billy would go too because he doesn’t know how much longer he can push off the brook threatening to spill over within him.

next to him, billy finally puts his hand on the door to leave, and steve let’s out a breath that this is almost over but at the last moment billy turns around, some sort of nervousness in his eyes.

“can’t do this much longer” billy repeats and steve nods because yeah he heard it first time. he doesn’t need to be reminded of it. he knows when he’s not wanted anymore.

but billy isn’t done apparently. “can’t do this much longer so maybe next time we can meet at my place. not as fancy as the quarry but there’s heating and food. and if it gets too late for you to drive home, then i got a bed too.”

he says the last prt with that signature grin of his but steve knows him well enough now to be able to tell when he’s nervous. and steve doesn’t want that because if he’s reading this correctly and he thinks he is then yeah he wants that. wants that and more.

“what kinda bed you got?” he asks.

billy shrugs and says “i think it’s a twin” but he’s biting his lip like he thinks that might be a deal breaker.

steve sits for a moment, thinking on how this could change everything and how he desperately wants it to. he looks to billy with his own king steve smile and “might be a tight fit being side by side, but i think we could make an adjustment for it to work.”

billy’s face lights up and steve’s stomach is fluttering and it takes them several minutes before they’re able to search themselves to make it upstairs.

they start dating after that and it’s so good. but some days, the world gets too tight around steve. and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold the gates open much longer by himself, and he’s knows this is where they always leave him. but billy doesn’t. instead he welcomes him. opens his arms wide and let’s wrap himself around his body as he whispers words of praise, love, and adoration into steve’s ear. and steve loves it

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #harringrove fic #harringrove drabble #fanfic #ao3 #my writing #billyxsteve #i guess this could be considered a prequel into my fic that i’m writing rn #it explores the middle part of steve and billy falling love

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thekitschdiet · 3 years ago

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the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

Who is the Kitsch Girl?

I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall- with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that. If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on. I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced. One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

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jurijurijurious · 3 years ago

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Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced... He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling. He needed rest. Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry. So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing. His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes. His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance. But that was enough. Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks. And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her. There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her. This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent. It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens. Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

#memes #writerly ephemera meme

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vettelewis · 4 years ago

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Lewis Hamilton: ‘There are so many things to fight for’

In his 14th season in Formula One, Lewis Hamilton has won more races than anyone else. And with his win in Turkey earlier this month, he achieved a milestone not just in his career but in the history of his sport: a seventh world title. But it’s also his actions off the circuit that make him our Game Changer Of The Year, as he takes a knee and raises a fist for the global Black Lives Matter movement

By any standards, even if Lewis Hamilton hadn’t spoken into a single microphone this year and hadn’t sent a single tweet and hadn’t once bent knee to ground in order to shake up the very male and oh-so-pale world of Formula One, he would have had one of the most remarkable years of his life. In winning the Portuguese Grand Prix in October, the 35-year-old surpassed Michael Schumacher’s record of 91 race wins, a feat most in the sport felt untouchable. And with his victory at the Turkish Grand Prix earlier this month, he equalled the German’s seven world championships. As his race engineer Peter Bonnington succinctly put it, “You are rewriting the history books.”

But GQ’s Game Changer Of The Year is not only a sporting great: he has quite literally used his exalted platform – or, more specifically, podium – to raise the issue of race in a sport for which it rarely comes up, precisely because there are so few black faces in it. In taking a knee before races – and even making his team change the colour of its car – he has pushed for change in a world that badly needed changing, consequences and criticisms be damned. GQ spoke to him as he was on the cusp of claiming his seventh championship and found that, both on and off the track, he’s just getting started...

Misan Harriman: What was your motivation when you first decided to take the knee?

Lewis Hamilton: I remember watching the video [of George Floyd’s death]. This life extinguished in front of my eyes by the people who are hired to protect others, and I heard when he was calling for his mum. This happens time and time again and that’s why there’s been such a large cry out. When I was watching it, tears came, so many emotions came up. It brought stuff up of my past. I started experiencing racism when I was five and people looked upon it so lightly, when someone would throw out these words, the bullying and the beatings and the intimidation... My dad always said, “Do your talking on the track,” so I held my tongue, but we suppress a lot of things and all my suppressed emotions came up and I was like, “You know what? I have to do something. I cannot stay silent.” If we all stay silent, it will continue for generations. I look at my niece and nephew and do not want them to experience what I experienced.

How do you feel about the response from F1? Thirteen drivers knelt with you in Spain and I think seven didn’t...

It’s not always a good thing for me, but I often post out of just kneejerk reaction, passion. And I called everyone out. I see all of you out there who have platforms, who have a following and just stay quiet. My team was the first to react. Since I joined, I remember mentioning that this team is not diverse. Year on year, I would talk about how our team is not diverse, how our sport is not diverse. So I got to sit down with my team and get into deep conversation of what is going on. And, you know, we changed the car to black and that had to go through a chain of command. Everyone got on board and it was overwhelming to see the response from our partners, because logo colours had to change. Brands put the issue first rather than themselves. I think as a sport, they were very, very nervous of what the right steps were. We saw the reaction: 13 drivers, as you said, took the knee. Obviously, the ones that didn’t, I don’t know if some drivers were like, “I’m not doing it because this is what Lewis is doing” or whether they didn’t get it... I think there are plenty of people in our sport that still don’t understand what we’re doing.

Do you think it helps that your record is so extraordinary that it adds to your ability to do this within the sport? If you weren’t winning, would it be harder?

Well, you can look at some other sports and there’s some people that aren’t super successful yet, but the more successful [you are], the wider your audience, the wider the impact. I’ve had a very, very difficult life and I’ve been thinking a lot about all these wins. I’ve had a lot of success in my racing career. It’s a great feeling, it’s a real privilege, but what does it really mean? All these numbers... what is it? Why was I the one who was chosen to represent black people in our sport? But I think as my life is unravelling, as the journey unravels itself, my purpose here is to utilise my voice to help encourage change. And my goal, really, is to shift the sport in a direction that it perhaps wouldn’t have gone if I wasn’t here. And most certainly not have gone if the Black Lives Matter movement hadn’t started, if George’s life wasn’t so visible.

You were critical of Vitaly Petrov’s comments about Black Lives Matter before the Portuguese Grand Prix. Was it a mistake for the FIA to appoint him as race steward?

I don’t know whether they call it a mistake. I think that the FIA is a large organisation and they are leaders and if you’re going to state what your values are and what you fight for, yet you hire people who don’t seem to have those in common... I don’t understand. I don’t personally get that. I don’t really know the guy very well and I won’t really comment about whether he’s good or not – I think his results speak for themselves over his career – but I thought that it was a step in the wrong direction or even a step backwards. But, you know, you look at Donald Trump, people can obviously see he’s racist. He even said, “I am the least racist person in this room,” so he’s acknowledging [it]. But people are willing to put aside the fact that he’s said so many bad things about minorities, for wealth or for other policies.

Formula One rules were changed after the Tuscan Grand Prix to effectively ban T-shirts with political statements after your Breonna Taylor message. Will you ignore those rules in the future?

If I believe it is important enough, I will. I will do it again. Going into that weekend, the case with Breonna Taylor had really been on my mind and I’ve been chasing down this shirt for weeks. Every weekend that I arrive, we have the spotlight on us and every weekend there is an opportunity to raise awareness. We don’t live in a time when everything is OK. And I remember as I went through the day I was like, “OK, I’ve got to win this race. I can’t come second and wear this top.” So I remember racing my heart out, pushing with every ounce for first place and I remember getting that win and I was like, “OK. I’m here for you, Breonna.” And I put that shirt on and in the 70 years of our sport, no one’s ever stood up there for anything but themselves. And I was standing up there for someone else. It was one of the greatest feelings.

You’re virtually in uncharted territory, on the verge of a record-equalling seventh F1 world championship. Is it sinking in? Is your operating system even able to process what that means?

I remember winning my first championship when I was ten years old and I remember how great that day was. My dad was – is – a tough man. It was really not easy to make that man happy, but I remember winning that championship and we had the best moment – we went away singing, “We are the champions.” And I remember the relief I had in that period of time, because I wasn’t good at anything else. I struggled at school, no matter how hard I tried. Then I won these other championships and, as I started getting older, I realised it doesn’t change anything. Like, it’s a relief of tension for a second, the muscle can let go, but then you’re like, “OK. What’s next?” And it’s taken time to be present and enjoy the moment for a longer period, because it passes so fast. I never thought I’d get to seven. No one ever believed that I would ever get to seven. And now I’m on the verge of equalling the most successful driver of all time and [have] more race wins and I have a chance to potentially go and win more championships. Even if you just take my name away, there will always be at the pinnacle of our sport someone of colour. So I’m very proud of that and I think that’s probably the thing I’m going to be most proud of.

Do you think you have reached your own limits or do you think you can get even better? And would you love to race everyone in the same car, without any advantage?

Well, firstly, on the driving side of things, you know, I was just doing the race yesterday and I was going through this race realising that I’m getting stronger. My skills are getting sharper – my intuition and understanding of strategy, my understanding of my tires... I’m getting stronger and I didn’t expect that. And I didn’t know at what point I was going to plateau, but I’m realising that I’m getting better and that is a great feeling. But it doesn’t come without the hard work. There’s no coincidence that I’m driving the way I am. And, of course, we do live now in a sport where there’s such a gap between all the teams. And people try to devalue what I do because of the machine that I have, so without doubt, I would love to have everyone in the same car, with a track that enables you to really, really race. And then we’ll see... Like, [Fernando] Alonso, I beat him in my first year, straight out. I was 22 years old, a rookie, and I finished ahead of him. Even today, you know, people talk about Max [Verstappen]. Like, it’s probably never ever going to happen, but if I did have Max come into my team and I did the job I currently do and beat him, people would say, “Oh, it’s rigged.”

What about the rumours of you ever being tempted by the red paint of Ferrari?

That’s not going to happen. The Ferrari thing is not going to happen... I think. I’ve always been positive about Ferrari. I watched Michael win there. I’ve always been a Ferrari fan. I remember one of the first cars I ever bought was a Ferrari. And I think it’s a hugely iconic team and brand, particularly. I think the team has, in my period of time... There have been things I’ve seen that I don’t necessarily feel mirror my values and my approach. However, it is a team that every driver, I think, has dreamed of what it would be like to sit in the red cockpit. No disrespect to them, but when I stop I want to work with Mercedes in helping them be even better in the outside world. You know, they’ll always have beautiful cars, but how can we be a more diverse industry?

So when you stop, what are you going to do? Salsa dancing, fishing, Fifa?

Definitely not salsa dancing. And definitely not fishing. I’m vegan! I’m not going to catch fish out of the sea! There’s a lot of different things that I want to do. I would say on the fun side of things for me, I’d love to try a bit of acting. I love my music, so I’ll continue to do my music. And I want to continue to want to learn to play the piano. I really would love to learn a language. My mum is a dancer, so I may take her to go and do a dance course with her son. But then, on the business side of things, there’s not a lot of black-owned businesses in the Fortune 500, for example, and I’ve had the privilege of working with someone like Tommy Hilfiger, who’s really opened my mind to the fashion industry. And I love that industry. I really do have a dream of one day having a fashion brand that’s fully sustainable, fully ethical. I’m always going to be trying to get involved in tech, because that’s the key to the future, I think. And then, most importantly, working with organisations out there to raise awareness for important issues that I care about. There are so many things to fight for.

Lord Hain, who was a Labour cabinet minister and who vice-chairs the All Parliamentary Group On Formula One, said it was “unacceptable” that you hadn’t had a knighthood yet. Is he right?

Well, it’s the first I’ve heard about this! It’s not what I’m racing for. I’m not like, “I’ve got to win these races so I can be knighted.” My granddad served in the Second World War – I’ve got all his medals – and I was so proud to see Captain Sir Tom get his knighthood this year. I think the unsung heroes are the ones that deserve these things. If I’m one day honoured, I don’t think it’s something I’d say no to, but it’s not an issue for me right now. Like, I’m really grateful. The fact I’ve even had the opportunity to go to Buckingham Palace and I’ve got an MBE – like, wow, a kid from Stevenage, so I’m grateful for that. Look at Captain Tom, he was 100 years old before he got recognised.

The black community, obviously, are very proud of our own and sometimes I think the frustration is your level of success should have been recognised a lot earlier on. And maybe, ironically, your activism is getting that kind of attention, instead of what you’ve done on the track, which is a surreal thing to say. I actually think the Lewis Hamilton of 2020, what you’ve done off the track, is almost making as much noise as you making history by beating Schumacher’s record.

The mixed feelings that I’ve had this year... I could never have ever dreamt of having the year that we’ve had, in the sense of the sadness, the isolation, the trials and tribulations. This is going to be the one I remember the most, I think, and, you know, I still have a job to do: I’ve got to win the seventh title. And when I win that seventh title, what am I going to do with it? I’m still going to be taking a knee and using my voice on that day. But I’m near. I’m closing in on it. I’m still energised. I came back last night [after the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix in Italy] and I was like, “I can’t believe I just won that race,” but the thing is, the world moves on so fast, you just keep going.

#my jaw is on the floor #lewis hamilton #f1 #txt #long post

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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago

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ELLADINE SARABI

IG info/bio: @/ellasardineabi | 18.5k followers | Artist | i was born with glass bones and paper skin♡

25 years old

Born & raised in Cardiff, Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

Father was in the n*vy and moved his family around a few times until he and his wife came to a agreement that it would be best for the family to grow up in one solid place

whereas he would leave for months at a time living elsewhere

Which was hard on the family at times since he is viewed as the rock of the family

He eventually left the n*vy after serving 20 years & was so thankful to, he hated it and how it messed with him mentally

He’s also of Iranian heritage

Her mother is of German heritage

Has her own restaurant that serves authentic German food

Both of her parents instilled hard work, discipline, generosity, and how to be practical in their children

Elladine is the middle child

Has a brother that is ten years older than her and then a younger sister who is seven years behind her

Canon: there is currently a discussion going on if they are going to bring their (maternal) nan/mam-gu home since the nursing home isn’t providing the proper care their nan needs

Her mother has a rocky relationship with her mother that she doesn’t like to discuss with her children but her husband knows all about it

Her nan has Alzheimer's and is becoming violent

it has become difficult seeing her most days

Elladine came into glassblowing after being involved in many classes in secondary such as workshop class

which became her fav since she was able to manipulate many materials such as metal, wood, and glass

She also took a auto body class which was interesting but she wasn’t too thrilled about it. Got away with a B- but knew she could do better if she really wanted to but she didn’t need the class to graduate so allow it

Currently works in a glass studio where her work is displayed/sold and she’s one of the main ones that makes great profit

has bought her own space for her own studio and is slowly making it to her liking with her assistant, yes she’s got one!

Hopes to be in that space within the next 6 months...it would have been a little sooner if we weren’t dealing with a global p*ndemic!!! but ya know life f*cking sucks sometimes!!!1!!:) especially if people don’t gaf

Moved back in with her parents so that she could not only help with her nan but get her studio ready, her parents approved since she was working towards something and realized her talent

I definitely see elladine going through a grunge phase and it probably still slips out every now and then lol

Her childhood room is still in shades of raspberry, gray, and a deep purple

always been plus-sized/fuller than the rest but it’s literally hereditary since her mom is built the same way who got it from her dad

Her family never made her feel ashamed as they shouldn’t and none of her true friends made her feel different since they were all of different sizes!!! besides who’s really friends with someone because of their bodies? Ur really ugly if that’s how u roll js

Always a respectful student and not too afraid to spark up a convo with you but can be a little nervous if the person is more of a “I have to warm up to you first” since she’ll feel like she’s annoying you if she carries the convo at first

Takes her time in relationships because she’s scared of getting hurt, cause breakups are not fun! Especially if theyre your friend on top of that

Although Friendship breakups are much worse let’s be honest here!!!

Has noticed that a few of her exes like to bring up that she’s controlling or too bossy in relationships and that makes her a little insecure since she doesn’t view it that way??

She knows what she wants and likes things a certain way, and she can see how it can kinda come off that way based on how she approaches/says things and tries to be better at toning it down and not being offensive to her significant others

Always has a plan and likes to follow it, she definitely keeps to-do lists on a daily

Takes trips to see Nicky often and vice-versa, every moment they spend together feels like it’s meant to be, even when it’s them just simply chilling in each other’s spaces, he’s truly one of her best friends and he feels like the missing part of her life

He offered for her to move in with him but elladine didn’t accept it since she wanted to be there to help with her nan and in fact—she wanted to be the one to ask HIM to move in with her

but if they make it long enough, they’ll go house hunting together...maybe

I get Shawn/Angela relationship vibes from them (boy meets world for those who aren’t aware of this couple and I’m not just saying this because they’re interracial as well lol) did I say this already about someone else? Brain fart lol

everyone relationship has their flaws so when they hit a bump in the road...elladine immediately wants to fix it but it comes off as more critiquing, moodiness/blaming the other

while Nicky can be defensive/argumentive/a little condescending on his end

To get through it, they normally go on a walk together in complete silence until they’re ready to speak again or they take a break from each other

I think words of affirmation is her love language

Taurus sun + Virgo moon + Capricorn rising?

“The girl on the motorcycle” is one of her fav films — no this is not metaphoric to her love life

Loves watching things with captions on since she always finds herself doing something else while watching anything (which irks Nicky a little bit but that’s just the way elladine is and he loves her so he deals with it)

Will rewind something if she missed it too

Canon: never had morning sex before

but can now say she has ;) & understands the pros people say about it and it outweighs the cons in her book

Will start the whole song over too if she missed her fav part in it

She also enjoys billiards since her brother used to work in a pool hall and when he had to watch her because she was “too young” in her words to stay home by herself he would take her there even tho technically she wasn’t supposed to be there but he was screwing his boss’s daughter so it was quite fine

her sister has a crush on Gary & ships elladine with him, which they joke about every now and then + he doesn’t follow her back, which is okay! Not a big deal but her sister keeps sliding in his dms (he’s now single)

She NEVER thought she would be on THE love island and wasn’t that confident that she’d find a real love that carried on outside of the show but Nicky has proven her wrong 🥲

She’s 5’5–5’6

Probably shops at Zara & top shop and has no issue picking pieces that flatter her “pear” figure, she loves all that is of her body: the pudge, love handles, cellulite and all (she’s very confident and won’t let anyone see her moments of doubt when it comes to her frame)

Loves mythology but will tell bill stfu if he comes near her trying to argue about anything in that subject

Very competitive and will rush through certain things, leaving one to think that she’ll fail somewhere but rarely does

If she’s not near or away from the mountains or the sea for long period of time she gets very moody!!! Guess that’s the Welsh in her huh?

Loves fireplaces, they’re super cozy and very romantic if you catch ella’s drift 😏

Probably smells like jasmine & pink pepper idk

Wants to travel to Iceland one day

Knows her way around a car but dreads having to get it fixed or fixing it herself?

Loves driving until her road rage kicks in? Oh you’re gonna go around her to get in front of her? Never that. She’ll always be in front of you and will break check you if you try her “Drewgi” she mutters

Early riser and goes to bed early too lol

She’s the crying drunk lmao

Automatically vieve has become one of her best friends from the villa but it deff didn’t feel forced like it normally would have just because their bfs have a podcast together, they talk about everything together. EVERYTHING! It feels like she’s the big sister she never had, yet they’re only a year apart lol

They have ft sleepovers and man is it fun!

Forgave lily but at the same time can’t fully see herself being friends with her like vieve tried to encourage before they went on the yacht...sorry everything can’t be Kumbaya over here sis

It sucks to say but it was easier? She doesn’t know if that’s the right term or not... for her to forgive rafi than it was lily and it’s fucked up but that’s the way it is. It’s not like she contacts him on seperate messages or anything like that! She’ll talk to him via group chat and that’s pretty much it. She knows it was all part of the show and production’s bs for ratings but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t hurt

Wishes him success on his shows/movies but doesn’t engage/watch them

What does she post? I feel like she posts maybe three times a month and a lot are outfit pics but tends to go live more so to chat with the people! She’ll also show all what glassblowing entails while chatting away! She loves that part and is pretty open about things but knows how to keep some things private

Personally wasn’t the biggest fan of season 1 but admits she wishes she had mc’s balls in terms of what she would have done if she was in elladine’s place when lily picked Nicky, “ugh! I wish I had her strength rising through my veins in that moment. Absolute riot. Adore her.”

‘“Licky” is a ugly ass ship name anyways so who’s really winning here?!’

Celeb crushes? Iwan Rheon, Henry Zaga, Anthony Welsh, jason derulo, & LaRoyce Hawkins

Listens to: soleima, Marisa Maino, Ava Max, poppy, Caroline polachek, Donny Hathaway, Phil Good, & SAINt JHN

Anthem — M.I.A. “Bad Girls”

#litg #litg3 #litg s3 #litg elladine #litg Nicky #litg genevieve #litg oc #litg mc #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #litg rafi #litg boat party #litg lily #litg moodboard #I like elladine and I’m in love with her design #wish they did more with her and many of the other characters too!#I hope this was sorta satisfactory lol!#can you tell I’m running out of artists and celebs/well known ppl lol!

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marvelslut16 · 5 years ago

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Too Much

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Part 2 of A Helping Hand

Synopsis: Months after Billy admits that he wants to be better, shit hits the fan and (Y/N) realizes him and his attitude may be too much. Throw in an abusive father who has come to visit and Neil treating Billy like shit, making everything harder for the two before they finally blow up at one another.

Word count:4153

Warnings: Blood. Violence. Domestic violence. Swearing. Bullying. Shit fathers. Angst. Use of the word fag and other insults.

A/N: Thank you to the four lovely people who requested/asked about a part two: @speedmetalqueen @strangerfictions @noshi-chan @jojokoko0717 I originally had no interest in making this, but I got inspired. Also I’m thinking about making a part three, which would take place in the future. Let me know what you guys think about that.

“I can’t do this anymore Billy,” your eyes fill with tears. “I really thought you could be different.”

In the months following Billy’s plea for help, he really tried. You would give him that much. But as summer grew nearer, Billy grew tired of your little arrangement. While he was super nice to you, and a decent human being when you were around; he was still an ass when you weren’t. He still threatened Steve, constantly making his life a living hell whenever you weren’t in sight. He still booked nerds in the hall, threatened people that would look at him the wrong way, and fight the ones that dared to talk back.

And if that weren’t enough, your dad found out where you were living and came for a visit, citing your upcoming graduation as the cause. Your stepdad threatened him with a louisville slugger and the terms of the restraining order your mom has against him. Your father left, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he’d be back and you’d regret sending him away in the first place.

And boy were you right, on your way home from the video store, you were picking up a movie that Carol wanted to see, when you saw him again. He didn’t approach you, just watched you. You hurried back to your car and drove home, checking every once in a while to make sure you weren’t being followed.

You knew that you should have told your mom and stepdad as soon as you got home, but you didn’t want to worry them. And, there was a part of you that didn’t want to seem weak, and immediately complaining would make you seem weak in your eyes. So you stay silent, hoping he will just leave on his own.

A few days later you and Steve are babysitting the party, the two of you sneak off to eat some cold pizza while the kids watch the movie you picked up for Carol. It was Beverly Hills Cop, a movie that you and Steve had seen in the theater together. Some of it may be a tad inappropriate for the kids, but Dustin already swears like a sailor and the shit they’ve already faced, what's the point in pretending that they’re so innocent?

“Dustin said that he’s known Carol since they were kids, but you moved here freshman year,” Steve states more than asks, leaning against his kitchen counter.

“Our moms have been friends since they were kids. My mom moved away in high school, but they kept in close contact over the years. They used to come visit us often when we lived in Illinois. After the divorce we moved around a bit before Claudia convinced my mom to move back here, and this is where she met my stepdad. So we stayed.”

“I bet you’re happy you moved here, you got to meet Billy,” Steve frowns, insinuating that there’s something going on between you and the boy with the mullet.

“I’m just trying to help him be a better person, that’s all. He asked for help, and who am I to deny him that?” you frown at Steve. You just want him and Billy to get along, they’re more alike than either would like to admit.

“I just think-” you cut Steve off before he can bad mouth Billy.

“That we should be studying for our math test? Great idea!” you head over to your bag and pull out your textbook before he can change the subject back to Billy.

In the following days Billy grew more distant, and you heard in the hushed whispers of Hawkins High that he had been getting in more fights than he had in ages. The worst news of all was that Billy had befriended Tommy H and Carol again, something you had heard around school and eventually seen. He had originally agreed with you that they were bad influences on him, and that they only encouraged his erratic and terrible behavior.

In those days where Billy purposely, and obviously, ignored you in school and out of it; your birth father had been following you obviously. Your mom had the restraining order and you didn’t, which he used to his advantage. Everyday the same busted up silver car would loosely follow you everywhere you go.

Your father was keeping his distance, until one day he followed you to a park. You needed a breather, needed to think about Billy and how long helping him could go on when he didn’t seem to be making any real progress in weeks.

“Fancy seeing you here,” his acid voice dripped with sarcasm.

“What do you want?” your voice surprisingly doesn’t break. But maybe refusing to turn and look at him is helping with your strength.

“To take back what's mine,” his voice grows closer.

“And what's that?” you whip around and face the man that had left you for dead on your kitchen floor all those years ago.

“My favorite punching bag,” he seethes, face inches from yours. You can smell the strong scents of bourbon and tobacco mingling to create the naeusating scent that is your father.

“Go find someone your own age to torture,” you glare at him.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he grabs your wrist tightly, causing you to twitch in response. He laughs like a maniac when he sees how easily he can still hurt you. “I saw you with that blonde boy by his Camero at school the other day, I don’t think he’s a good influence on you.”

“Leave him out of this,” you try to sound strong, but it comes out as a desperate plea.

“Aww, are you his little whore or something?” his grip gets impossibly tighter.

“No,” you try to yank your arm away from him. His nails dig into your skin and are sharp enough that they leave cuts in your skin. “He’s just some guy in my science class.”

“Don’t lie,” he leers at you before his palm connects with your cheek

“I said no, and I meant it,” you blink back the automatic tears that come with being slapped. He ignores you and yanks on your arm, pulling you into a public restroom that's in the park locking the door behind you two.

“It looks like I have to teach a little slut a lesson,” his fist connects with your side. You don’t even bother trying to fight back as his fist connects with your gut and your ribs repeatedly. There’s no use, you’ll never win. The moments start to get hazy and blur together as he pulls out a switchblade. He runs the point over your arms, causing small cuts to appear and bleed onto the ground.

You fall onto the hard concrete underneath you as he sweeps his legs through yours. He sticks the blade into your leg deeper than on your arms. The knife cuts through your denim jeans and flesh like they were a mere piece of paper. Your legs starts to bleed profusely, he steps on your arm as you go to put pressure on the wound.

“He won’t want you now,” he laughs loudly, kicking your ribs as hard as he can one last time before leaving you on the dirty floor alone.

Your pretty new top has splotchy crimson stains scattered on it, blood drips down your arms and there’s a gash on your left leg from his knife. You manage to pick yourself up and somehow drive yourself all the way home.

“(Y/N), where have you been?” Carol’s yelling voice greets you as you walk through the door.

You ignore your sisters calls and slide down the door after you close it behind you. A loud sob shakes your entire body as you finally feel safe enough to cry. Two sets of feet coming running towards you, but you can’t be bothered to stop crying. Your body and soul hurt too much.

“(Y/N),” Carol gasps. “Oh my God, MOM!” she screams, running off to the kitchen.

Your eyes follow the shoes standing in front of you, up until you see the red headed girl staring at you in shock. “Don’t tell anyone,” you hiccup between sobs. Max quickly nods her head, not knowing what to say

“(Y/N),” your mom breathes in horror when she sees the small puddle of blood coming from your wounds.

“He’s been fo-foll-following-ng me-e. He c-c-corn-nerd me at a p-par-rk. S-s-sai-id he-e mis-ssed hi-is f-fa-favorite-te pu-pu-punching bag,” you sob out.

Max was sent home after promising she would never breathe a word of what she saw or heard, even if she wanted to tell Billy. Carol was sent to her room while your mom cleaned you up and your stepdad gave your leg stitches, his military background coming in handy. After convincing your stepdad that he couldn’t go kill him, you decided to sleep and pretend that the events at the park never occurred.

It’s unseasonably warm in Hawkins Indiana this spring, you’re the only one still wearing long sleeves. You have on one of your striped turtlenecks and a pair of well worn overalls, it successfully hides every inch of your body.

There's a group of kids standing in a giant semi-circle in the hallway you walk through to get to third period. Kids are murmuring so quickly all you pick up on are the words Harrington and Hargrove, causing you blood to run cold. You push your way through the crowd, and instead of complaining like they normally would, your peers parted like the red sea as soon as they saw it was you.

“Billy!” you gasp, when you come face to face with him pushing Steve into the lockers. Your heart drops to your stomach as your last little bit of faith you have for Billy disappears. You wished that you heard the kids wrong when you were making your way through the crowd, but now your worst fears have been confirmed.

It seems like the men in your life just keep disappointing you. At least you have Steve; trusty, dopey, kind hearted Steve. Who apparently did something so bad that it warranted he get beat up for it?

“(Y/N),” Steve mumbles, still trying to get air back to his lungs from Billy’s shove.

“I can’t do this anymore Billy,” your eyes fill with tears, ignoring Steve and looking straight into those blue eyes. “I really thought you could be different.”

“(Y/N)-” he reaches out for your wrist, but you quickly move out of his grasp.

“It’s too much,” your voice drops to a whisper. “You’re too much.”

“Like I need you anyway,” he laughs viciously as the crowd that was gathered around him and Steve now laughs at you. “You’re just a pathetic little freak.”

“I’d rather be a pathetic freak than be as miserable and lonely as you are Hargrove,” you frown as words you don’t even mean tumble out of your mouth. “What happens when we graduate and your just another has been bully that peaked in high school? At least Steve and I have potential in our futures.”

You grab Steve and pull him out of the building, needing to put as much space between you and Billy as humanly possible. The fresh spring air hits you as you hear the muffled sound of the bell ringing from inside the school. You’ve never skipped school, but there’s a first time for everything.

Steve’s wide eyed gaze on you makes your brain process what you just said in the hallway. A traitorous sob leaves your mouth as you fully comprehend how rude you were to Billy. And how rude he was to you.

“Hey, hey,” Steve pulls you into a hug, running his hand over your hair to calm you. “It’s going to be okay, but for now let's get you home. I’ll pick Carol up from school later when I get Dustin.”

Steve helps you into his car and drives you home, your too empty home. Your mom and stepdad are on vacation celebrating their anniversary, leaving you home with Carol. Normally you would love it, but with everything that's happened lately you hate it. Granted, you had insisted they still go last night, you didn’t plan on being home alone.

“I just wanted to help,” you whisper to Steve. “He wanted help and I wanted to help him.”

“I know, and you're an amazing person for it,” Steve says lightly, and you pull on your sleeves that started to rise up during the commotion with

Loud knocks on the door pull yours and Carol’s attention away from Tom Selleck running around in a pair of short shorts on your tv. You quickly mute the episode of Magnum P.I. and head for the front door. “Stay there and don’t make a sound,” you warn Carol.

You look out the peephole and see a mop of red curls pacing the length of the porch. “Max?” you question as you throw the door open.

“Billy came home from school fuming that he ruined everything. He was listening to his music too loud when Neil got home and he started screaming at him. Billy screamed back, saying that it was Neil’s fault that he can’t be normal. It’s so bad (Y/N),” Max’s voice breaks. “It’s never been this bad before. I’m scared he’s going to kill Billy.”

Max’s mouth continues to move, but you can’t hear anything after the words kill and Billy. Your heart rate picks up quite substantially as you run out of the house in slippers and just your keys, no jacket, no drivers license, no anything. You see Max and Carol watching from the doorway as you back out of the driveway and speed down the street. You don’t care how fast you’re driving, if Max believes Billy is in serious danger he probably is.

You whip into the Hargrove driveway, not caring if you hit Neil’s car. You run to the door finding it strangely unlocked. As you get closer to the door you can hear Neil screaming so loud you can hear him clearly through the closed door. His voice becomes impossibly louder as you throw open the front door and enter uninvited or that you're in a Hawkins high basketball t shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“You. Stupid. Fucking. Fag,” you hear skin loudly hit skin between every word. “You. Ruined. Your. Own. Life.”

“Get off of him!” you scream as soon as you see Neil straddling Billy. Neil was randomly switching between smacking and punching Billy randomly. You wrench Neil off of the beaten Billy with strength you don’t know you possess. Adrenaline you suppose.

Neil’s anger quickly switches to you, and he slaps you across your face, just like your own father. You can feel the familiar sting from flesh on flesh.

“That all you’ve got?” you antagonize him, trying to keep his attention away from the broken boy that you love.

Love? Now is definitely not the time to have some emotional breakthrough. You’re newly discovered feelings need to be put on the back burner, all that matters is getting Billy out of this house alive.

“This is the worthless whore turning you into a pussy?” Neil laughs loudly as he turns back to Billy, who is now sitting up. “Max’s friends older sister? She must be damn good in the sack.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Billy screams. He gets up quickly and pushes Neil into the wall so hard that the picture frames rattle, and some fall to the ground and shatter on impact. “And don’t you ever lay a hand on her again!” Billy winds his arm back to punch Neil in the face, but you grab his arm to stop him.

“It’s not worth it, it won’t make you feel any better in the long run. Take the high road Billy. Please,” he looks at your desperate face and the adrenaline that helped him stand immediately dissipates.

He falls into your arms, the only thing keeping him standing is you. You wrap his arm around your shoulders and snake your arm around his waist. You glare at Susan, who has stood in the corner quietly watching the entire thing. Neil gets between you and Billy and the door.

“Don’t test me,” you seeth, getting ready to lean Billy against the wall so you can hit his father. Screw being the bigger person, this man is really testing your patience. “Move before I kick you so hard where the sun doesn’t shine that it’ll be coming out of your mouth.”

Neil's about to make some smart ass remark until he sees the fresh bruises and cuts littering your arms. You narrow your eyes at him and he silently, and reluctantly, moves out of the way. You quickly help Billy into your car before speeding back to the girls.

He’s bloody and bruised, worse than you’ve ever seen before. And he’s crying, something you weren’t even sure was possible coming from Billy Hargrove.

“What happened?” you whisper when you’re stopped at a red light. The obnoxious red illuminating his slightly bruised face. Props to the abusive fathers for choosing hideable places to really bruise their kids.

“I want to be normal,” his voice comes out quiet, far from the confident cocky boy that you’ve come to know. “He’s why I can’t be. Every time I’m happy he finds a way to hurt me, and then I take it out on kids at school.

“You need to find a coping mechanism,” you advise as the light turns green. “Maybe you can practice basketball more? ‘Cause I’m sure you don’t want to write your feelings down like I do.”

“The only other woman I’ve ever loved in any capacity abandoned me. No one I have ever loved before has ever stuck around. And I thought it would be easier to push you away rather than you realizing I’m not worth it. That’s why I fought Harrington earlier.”

“Love?” you're bewildered by Billy’s confession. “You don’t love me Billy, if you did you wouldn’t have hurt my only friend to make things easier for you.” You pull into your driveway, neither of you making any move to exit the car.

“My mom left me with Neil so she could have a better life. I’m worthless to her, I’m worthless to everyone,” Billy admits quietly. “I just didn’t want you to see me like that too, so I found a shitty out.”

“You aren’t worthless Billy Hargrove,” you say softly, hoping he believes you. “And even though we aren’t friends anymore, you and Max can stay here as long as you need.”

This time you make an exit from the car, quickly walking away from Billy and the tangled webs of your feelings for each other. Max and Carol are waiting for you at the door, eyes wide as they land on Billy who’s walking up behind you.

“Carol, go get the first aid kid,” you give her a look that says stop staring. She scurries off and you bring Billy into the kitchen. Her and Max hover quietly as you clean Billy’s cuts and bandage him up. You must have been concentrating really hard, because it feels like some sweat is trickling down your leg.

“(Y/N), you’re bleeding,” Max sounds worried as the blood seeps through your pant leg.

“Shit,” you breathe out quietly. “Not another pair of pants,” you whine, taking a seat next to Billy.

“I’m calling Mom,” Carol exclaims nervously.

“No you’re not,” you sigh at your little sister. “I probably just popped a stitch, which I can fix myself.”

You gingerly roll up your pant leg to see that you have indeed popped a few stitches. You give a long dramatic sigh as you reach for the needle and thread, but a large thick hand beats you to it. You meet Billy’s eyes and you can see the silent rage burning in them, wanting to beat the shit out of whoever did this to you.

“What happened?” his voice as soft as yours was in the car. He carefully pulls your bleeding leg up to rest on his lap, his fingers gentle as he caresses your skin before threading the needle.

“My dad,” you whimper at the confession, and not the needle sliding through your skin. “He’s been following me for days, yesterday he cornered me and beat me up.”

Once Billy’s down sewing you up, he aggressively paces the kitchen like he wasn’t just beat up himself.

“Billy you need to calm down,” you say gently. “There’s no need for you to get worked up over it.”

“Damn it (Y/N)!” Billy pulls at the ends of his hair. “I’m in love with you! And nobody hurts you and gets away with it.”

“You hurt me!” voice far louder than you intended. Max and Carol’s wide eyes move between the two of you. “More than I ever thought possible. You pushed me away in every way you knew that would mentally hurt me. That’s not love.”

“I was giving you an out-”

“No, you weren’t, “ you cut him off. “You hurt me in order to save yourself pain down the road. Well newsflash, the only one that abandoned someone here is you.”

“I’m scared!” if you didn’t know any better you would swear that there are unshed tears shining in his eyes.

“So am I! I realized that I loved you when I was, quite literally, saving your life,” words are once again leaving you before your brain can process what you’re saying. “Hours after you started a fight with Steve for God knows what reason. It’s hard and scary being in love with the Billy Hargrove, the infamous ladies man. Especially when he’s too embarrassed to truly be my friend when we’re at school.”

“You love me?” Billy sounds stunned. Max has a small smile on her face as Carol gaps at your confession.

“No?” you squint, hoping you can pinch yourself and wake up from this pain pill induced dream. But you aren’t that lucky.

“I want to be better for you,” he gently grabs your hand, pulling it up to his face so he can kiss the scratches on your arms. “I’ve never felt this way before and I got scared. I wanted to really be friends at school, but I knew Tommy H. and Carol would rip into you.”

“Two broken people don’t make a whole one,” you whisper your last line of defense.

“But they can be there for each other with love and support,” Billy’s words surprise you. He pulls you into his arms. “I’ll never hurt you (Y/N), never lay a finger on you.”

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “For what I said at school. It was rude and uncalled for, I was lashing out because it hurt.”

“I’m sorry too, for what I said and did,” he sighs before continuing. “I’m even sorry I pushed Harrington into those lockers.”

“You have to apologize to him,” you push lightly on his chest so he looks into your eyes and not at your lips.

“Whatever you want,” he leans forward, finally capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined, him being such a heavy smoker and all. Typically the smell of tobacco is a turn off for you, but with Billy it’s an inviting smell. The kiss is over too soon, you pull away as Billy goes to slip his tongue in your mouth. There was no way you would go that far in your kitchen.

Whoops coming from Max and Carol make you extremely glad that you didn’t let the kiss get any deeper. The girls don’t need to see that, and you don’t know how far you two would have gotten before you remembered you weren’t alone. You laugh lightly before placing fingers to your slightly swollen lips.

Max and Carol say their goodnights, winking at you tow before running off to your sisters room. You lead Billy up the stairs, the energy from both of you draining as you come back to Earth and realize just how tired everything you've gone through has made you two.

“I love you Billy,” you carefully snuggle closer to his chest.

“I love you too (Y/N),” he gently runs his hand over your hair.

It may not be conventional, but Billy Hargrove is undoubtedly the love of your life. Both of you have been dealt some pretty shitty cards, but it helps you understand the other better. As you lay in your bed with Billy, you and him make a plan to leave this dangerous city and move to California after graduation. For the first time in a long time, you fall asleep truly happy wrapped up in Billy’s bruised but strong arms.

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#Billy Hargrove #billy x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x you #dacre montgomery #billy x you #billy x y/n #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things #Stranger Things Season 1 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 3

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