#I read it in 2021 and I’ve only just not stopped thinking about it

[enobariasteeth]

Oh God they’ve got banana fish on Prime video

[deus-ex-mona]

mfw my self rbs stopped showing up in my notification things

[sageworld]

The Christmas Kids • Rafe Cameron. (part II)

“the christmas kids were nothing but a gift,

and love is a tower where all of us can live.”

he was really sweet in the beginning but then something changed

WARNINGS • Cheating, mentions of sex work, reader catches an STD, overall just a upsetting chapter

christmas kids masterlist; here

06/13/2021

it had been hours and you couldn’t stop the tears. you laid yours’ & rafe’s half full bed in your pajamas sobbing your eyes out.

1:34am

your bed side clock read, rafe still wasn’t home he had texted you saying he was going out with top & kelce to watch the football game at the local bar around 7:30 & that was the last you heard from him.

you ponder back onto the events that had happened before that. you had walked into your local planned parenthood, complaints of vaginal pain, slime like discharge & a overall smell that you’d been insecure about for about two days now.

“hi mrs. cameron, im maddy & i’ll be your nurse today. i see on file that you want to get STD tested today.” your nurse greets you while closing the door behind her.

“yes, i’ve been having some issues and i just wanna make sure.” the small talk continues on for some time before she gives you the small green lidded cup & you head to the bathroom.

as you finish your business you leave it in the small metal box in the bathroom, going back to wait in the nurses office like directed. the nerves running through you.

bing

your phone buzzed.

rafey💍🧿: hey babe, just checked your location. wyd?

y/n: just been having some cramp issues is all.

you put your phone down when the nurse comes back in, your phone binging as you do so but you choose to ignore it.

“hi again, so we got your results back & unfortunately you’ve tested positive for chlamydia.” you don’t hear much past that. trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, focusing on trying not to cry in her office.

“mrs.cameron?” she tries to gain your attention to which you look up to her from your chair, teary eyed. “you will have to alert all partners you’ve been with-.” “i’ve only been with my fiancé, they’re must be some mistake.” the tears start to fall.

“i know this is hard, you should recommend your fiancé come in for some testing as well.” she rubs your back. “i want to be tested again, there must’ve been a mistake.” you sob, feeling the headache coming.

“mrs. cameron, we can test again but i can assure you that you’re positive for it, im gonna prescribe you some antibiotic that you can pick up at any local pharmacy.”

fast forward back to now, over pondering on the events of the day. your heart aches, you knew rafe. you knew of his infidelities but the thought never crossed your mind that he wasn’t using protection.

a nervous rumble fills your belly as you hear the roar of his trucks engine pulling up in your drive way.

2:57am

your clock now reads, football game my ass.

you knew he was never really watching football, rafe had more than a few addictions. somewhere in between the cocaine and money, strippers had fell into it. there was a club about 30 minutes away on the mainland that you’d seen rafe’s location at a few times. and after a few text searches you knew top & kelce had always gone with him.

at first you didn’t think it was bad, you’d looked at other guys before while in the relationship, hell for your eighteenth girls sleepover your friends got you a male stripper as a joke. that was until you woke up and saw nearly 2900 had been withdrawn from your & rafe’s account. it didn’t say what on but you could only assume he had taken out cash.

as time went on & it got worse, you could only wonder. why them?

he was engaged to you but he always found his way back to them. why couldn’t you be good enough? it felt like no matter how many hours you spent in the gym, no matter how clean and lean you ate it wasn’t enough. you always wondered if he was bored of your body, seeing the same things over and over again. but, that’s not much of a topic you should be thinking about.

you try and contain your sobs as he opens your bed room door, stumbling over to you. it’s clear he thinks your asleep. “mm sweet kitty.” he slurs, liquor taken over him as he bends over the bed to plant a kiss on your forehead.

you don’t move or dare open your eyes even after you hear the door to your master bathroom shut & the shower water turn on.

you shove your face into the pillow and quietly sob, the pillow nearly soaked from the hours you’d spent crying, salivating & snot running onto it.

3:26 am

you quickly open your eyes to see the time as the bathroom door opens again, he turns off the light before hopping into his side of the bed, cuddling you under the covers. even though your backs faced to him you can now smell rafe and not some cheap whoreish perfume.

you debating for a bit, should i tell him or wait till tomorrow

but as soon as you get ready to turn you hear his soft snores.

6:24 am

despite the lack of sleep you’re up early & cannot stand the idea of staying cuddled up with rafe. you quietly get up and sneak away, grabbing a cute gym two piece set.

after doing a few hygiene things and grabbing the essentials, gym bag, pre work out, stanley, airpods & a small protein bar for the road you’re off.

working out was always a good way to clear your mind, just put your airpods in and focus on you.

your body drips in sweat as you’re 30 flights into your stair master. you’d done a few other things and had been here for god knows how long.

buzz buzz buzz

your airpods ring in your ears.

FaceTime call: Rafey🧿💍

you hesitate to answer but decide to anyways.

“mm kitty, why’d you run off so early?” rafe answers, sleepy voice and still in bed.

“just wanted to get out the house.” you simply answers,looking down to focus on the stairs. “should’ve woken me up i would’ve come.” rafe frowns. you shrug on the camera, “what’s wrong?” rafe asks, your attitude upsetting him.

“nothing just have somethings i need to talk to you about when i get home.” you can tell what you said make rafe anxious as his eyes open a bit.

“really kitty? about what?” his voice holds excitement. ok so maybe not nervous.

“im finishing up here and i’ll tell you when i get home.” the conversation goes on for a bit longer with rafe just wanting you to tell him but untimely he agrees for you to tell him at home, after saying your goodbyes and love yous, you make your descend off the machine.

you don’t wanna go but decide it’s for the best, packing your stuff into your gym bag & making your way out the door.

it feels all too soon as you walk into the front door of your house, the tv playing loudly. it’s a saturday so rafe’s off today, the sound off last nights football games highlights playing.

“hi kitty.” rafe smiles, man spread on the couch still in his pajama pants and no shirt. “hey rafe.” you say blandly, the sight of him disgusting you. “c’mere kitty, what’d you wanna talk to me about.” he pats his lap for you to sit. “i-i think i’m gonna shower first.” the definitely wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have with rafe.

you were sure, rafe knew you knew he was cheating. yet the one or two times you had even slightly brought it up he shut it down saying he didn’t know what you were talking about. you knew he saw your face when you once saw a hickey left on his neck that wasn’t from you. when you can smell another woman on him, when he comes home at the late hours of the night/early hours of the morning.

“no, no. i have to shower too but let’s talk first.” rafe’s voice is soft, inviting it usually is when rafe thinks he gonna get home kind of good news from you. what does he think i wanna talk about?

“rafe, have you been using protection like when you’re having sex?” the lump in your throat forms as rafe sits his body up completely, nervous look on his face. “well uh-kitty we don’t use condoms but you’re on your birth control.” he runs his hand through his hair, a tall tale sign he’s nervous or feels like he’s been caught.

“not with me rafe and, i swear to god if you’re not honest with me i will walk right back out that door and i will not come back.” you’re frustration only grows.

“i-i usually do but just sometimes i don’t but i promise when i don’t i pull out or-or-or i make them take a plan b in front of me i swear.” rafe stands fidgeting with his hands as he steps closer to you. “whyre you asking me this?” rafe stops in front of you, voice shaking.

“i went to planned parenthood yesterday & turns out i have chlamydia. we both know you’re the only one i’ve ever been with so, yeah.” you nod your head, a tear falling as you bite your lip.

“so you’re not pregnant?” rafe’s head hangs low as he reaches for you, making you step back. “why the actual fuck would i be pregnant?” is that what he thought?

“well i saw you went there yesterday and you said cramps but i knew you weren’t on your period because we’ve been having sex like everyday, so i just thought.” rafe explains, grabbing his hair in both hands before letting out a breath of air & before you know it he’s hyperventilating.

“r-rafe, calm down.” you wanna tell him it’s okay just to get him out of this state but it’s not okay, it’s not fair to you. you walk up to him and he begins to slowly place himself on the ground, one hand on his chest and one still in his hair and he tries to find his rhythm to breath. “rafe you need to calm down, now.” your tone more stern as you get down next to him.

“i’m so sorry my kitty, im so fucking sorry.” he sobs into your stomach. “rafe, stop fucking cry please and let’s talk.” you’re over it at this point. you’ve been cheated on, embarrassed & given an std by the man who’s supposed to love you the most & he’s here crying.

he looks up to you, shocked by your tone. “o-okay.” he sniffles, sitting his back up against the side of the couch.

“i’m just going to keep it simple rafe. i want you to go to planned parenthood for antibiotics, i want you to stop fucking these bitches, i expect you home by no later than 10:00pm and if you can’t do that then the weddings off.” you shrug and let out a sigh at the last part. “o-okay, i-i promise.” he stutters out when suddenly it hits him, “please don’t take away the weddding.” his sobs almost remind you of a child who’s favorite toy has been taken as he goes back to crying into your stomach.

“rafe, we’re still getting married as long as you get your shit together.” you sigh, scratching his scalp with your acrylic nails which you know he loves.

“i swear baby, im gonna ma-make this right.”

god i hope so.

[piratefalls]

“You are", he says, "the absolute worst idea I've ever had.” - me @ ao3 after watching the movie and thinking "there's probably fic for this."

i like lists. i've lost sleep reading fic like it's gonna disappear the second i look away. i'm making my problem yours. i'm sure a lot of these won't be new to people since they pre-date the movie and it's far from comprehensive but. i'm late to this party. i also can't make gifs, so enjoy the basic canva header.

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings

One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry. I want to marry this man.

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.” “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.” “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] -- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life. Alex gets shot instead.

Familiar Gravity by cmere

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and he pulls back to look Henry in the eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me in this chair for, like, weeks. Every time you sit down here with your stupid book.”   Henry likes it when Alex speaks Spanish and Alex has a request.

Am I the Asshole? by everwitch

AITA for spending Valentine’s Day with my roommate instead of my boyfriend? It’s well past midnight on a Saturday and hardly the first time Alex has scrolled aimlessly on his phone instead of trying to sleep, but it’s definitely the first goddamn time Alex has discovered his roommate has made a lengthy post about last night’s curry debacle to r/AmItheAsshole — a post that’s apparently gone fucking viral. -- In which Alex and Henry are college roommates, and a few thousand strangers think they should fuck.

Everybody needs good neighbours by railmedaddy

To nora(9.37pm): So a funny thing happened My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked From nora (9.38pm): WHAT DETAILS NOW Which neighbour? Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?! ALEX Or Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.

A Picture on Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

this is the worthwhile fight by dearhappy

It's not that Henry's scared of their future, he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The thing is they're still trying to figure out how that future is going to look. And he worries about how it'll affect Alex's career in politics.

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces by 14carrotgold

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?” Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?” Ah.  - Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood by chamel

“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.” “Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well. (After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)

Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce

Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad. No one can know what really happened.

thinking (about last night) by rhosyn_du

“I hope you know that I am literally never going to stop reminding you that you said that. I’m going to, like, take out an ad in the student paper. Maybe hire a skywriter or something. I am definitely telling Pez." "I hate you," Henry tells him. "Lies," Alex says, still laughing. "You know you love me." Henry lets out a heavy sigh. "Well," he says softly, "that's rather the problem, isn't it?" “What, you think we’d be better off if we still hated each other?” “I think," Henry says slowly, "I’d be better off if I could figure out how to stop being so stupidly in love with you.” It takes a few seconds for the words to really register, as distracted as Alex is by the heat of Henry’s breath and wondering how much it would cost to actually hire a skywriter. Once they do, it takes a full minute before Alex can move. Can breathe. Can think. Finally, he forces out a whispered, “What?” When that gets no response, he tries again. This time, his voice actually cooperates. “Wait, what?” The only response he gets is a soft snore and Alex realizes that Henry, the utter fucking asshole, has passed out on his shoulder.

you're the reason i let myself fall by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

Alex doesn't quite know what to expect when he walks into a room with a glowing screen separating him from the person in the other pod. The entire experience makes him skeptical. How can you fall in love with someone you've never met? Or: Love is Blind AU

Sharper Head, Wilder Heart by Dawg1515

"This could work out,” Henry offers. “It could,” Alex replies. “That’s good, then. Someone’s going to have to walk me through the brilliance of Empire Strikes Back, after all.” “Sweetheart, if we’re legitimately dating now, I’m forcing you to watch every movie that has Harrison Ford in it.” “Duly noted.” Or: When the Queen decides it’s time for Henry to settle down with a woman, she arranges a courtship between him and Alex Claremont-Diaz, closeted political powerhouse. Alex secretly tells Henry he’s trans, and Henry tells Alex that he’s gay. To say they become an amazing couple would be an understatement—but nothing is ever that easy for a prince and a president’s son.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme

“So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens. “Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.” Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, schmulte

This Author knows as well as anyone how much you, gentle readers, enjoy a scandal and a love story. And what could bring more delight that two young gentlemen who bring both of those wherever they go? Join the Duke of Mountchristen and the, untitled, Mr Claremont-Diaz as they attempt to find a Love Match amongst the gossip of the ton.

The Edge of Glory by politics_and_prose

Subject: CD-10 To: Alex Claremont-Diaz (acd@cdlaw.com) From: Natasha Wallace (nwallace@txdems.com) Alex - You know how you jokingly told me to let you know when Mayfield was vulnerable and/or not seeking re-election? Tash

lying in the low light by smc_27

The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows. Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand. Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.

what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by indomitablelove

'This isn't how I wanted to tell people. I thought we'd get the chance to do it right.' - Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, p.327 --- or, in another world, Alex and Henry get to do it right.

Who Could Love You The Same as I by MariaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Inside was exactly what Alex had found himself dreaming about ever since that night at Kensington. The kind of dreams that he forced himself to forget once he woke up, but dreams all the same. A gold band, simple and smooth, with a single square diamond embedded on top. It was small, modest, exactly to Alex’s taste. ”Holy shit,” he said again. “Holy shit.” That was a ring. That was, unmistakably, an engagement ring. Hidden in his boyfriend’s coat. And he had just found it.

—— Or, Alex finds the engagement ring that Henry had hidden, and does exactly what you’d expect him to.

As the World Falls Down by 3bowtruckles

So while we all knew that the 2020 written in the book would be glorious fiction, we didn’t realize that reality would throw us something to take 2020 even further away from the book’s events. This story is where I attempt to merge our 2020 reality and the fiction of RWRB, using research (a LOT of research) to try to figure out what the trajectory of reality might have been. The story starts picking up the timeline after their late-February trip to Paris. After that, it's strictly AU, but I try to keep a lot of the intents of the events in the book (for instance, Alex's trip to confront Henry in Britain after the lake) while still making them fit the narrative I've created.

We'll Change the World Yet to our Dessire [sic] by cresswells

Alex and Henry are engaged and ready to share their announcement with the world, but after the media circus surrounding their forced outing Queen Mary wants them to do things properly this time. To Alex’s surprise, ‘properly’ apparently means taking a Royal Tour around Europe as an official couple. Ten days, five countries and lots of unnecessary wardrobe changes. What could possibly go wrong?

where clouds look like mountains by weather_stained

Four months after the election, while still learning to navigate the complexities of being in a public relationship, Alex finally has the chance to show Henry around Austin.

We'll Invite Something In by smc_27

Alex is grinning a little too hard.  This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.  The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by DracoWillHearAboutThis

“I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.” When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis

Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.

The Byline by rosetintednerdglasses

Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by r_holland

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep. Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

words on the tip of your tongue (but please don't say them) by viciouslyqueer

So close. He was so close to saying those words that have lived inside him for so long, and now it's gone, a moment that slipped right between his fingertips before he could grasp it. Now he’s floating in the middle of the lake alone, the ghost of Henry’s touch still lingering on his skin and an unknown, heartbreaking feeling in his chest. — Or: canon-divergence where Henry doesn't leave the lake house.

The Grand Tour by lucky (revolutionbarbie)

When Henry returned from an audience with Queen Mary looking stony faced and grim, Alex had immediately feared the worst. She had requested to see Henry – and Henry alone – the moment their plane had landed at Heathrow on a visit to Pez’s new shelter in London.  Alex had suggested that they go to see her together just to spite the old hag, but Henry wanted to keep the peace. Since moving to Brooklyn, they had entered into an uncomfortable détente with Queen Mary and Henry was loathe to be the one to break it.  “She wants us to go to Australia. It would be an unofficial Royal Tour, of sorts, with stops in several cities and a short visit to New Zealand. Three and a half weeks in total.”  “She wants to send us on an all-expenses paid Australian getaway? Count me in.”

come and get me by rizcriz

The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal. As if leaving without a note were any different. He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again. -- or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge

"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" *** Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

idk I'll do a part two if anyone wants.

[chirpsythismorning]

Surfer Boy number update!

Now when you call, the recording comes instantly saying ‘the phone number you just dialed is available. 2499.’ And then cuts off.

Initially, I thought this meant that Netflix just stopped paying to use the number for promotional purposes and so now it’s available for someone to use, and I’m still partially leaning towards that.

However, there are a few things that intrigue me about this.

For one, all the other numbers ST used up to this point remain active, despite them all arguably being well past their need for use.

Murray’s number is still active, despite it being revealed way back in 2019 when s3 premiered and it appeared on the show, with the message still being him on his answering machine, hinting at the s4 plot. And Yuri’s fish fry is also still active, which is another number used for s4 promo sometime in early 2021.

Then there’s the number that appeared in s4 when the Cali gang called Nina, which currently still has the war games sound effect when you call.

The surfer boy number on the otherhand, was revealed in late 2021, which is when the surfer boy van made its first appearance in the Cali teaser that dropped. And for a very short time after that, the message was a birthday jingle, only for it to switch to Argyle explaining the ingredients of pineapple pizza (using colors of the rainbow). And now this.

So apparently it’s important enough to warrant them changing it several times, which in and of itself is a contrast from the others that were revealed and just stayed how they are. Not to mention, the fact that they used it for a birthdaygate Easter egg potentially, reads to me like this number is very much on their radar and it’s unlikely they would just throw it aside.

What confounds me most though about the surfer boy number presumably being dropped for promo while the others weren’t, is that the surfer boy number actually has a lot more longevity to be acknowledged in the narrative, with the van likely making a return in s5.

And not only do we see it repeatedly in s4 whenever the van appears, but the van is also used heavily in merchandise that is still coming out.

So wouldn’t you think out of all the numbers, this is the one they would want to keep active given that fans are still being reminded of it? Wouldn’t it be weird to distribute surfer boy van merch en masse, knowing the number would be called by people curious there’s an Easter egg waiting on the other end of the line? Because that’s generally been the trend up to this point?

Another thing about the message itself, is that I’ve never heard it before in everyday life? Most of the phone messages out there in the states are instantly recognizable to the average person who has spent time on the phone and they all go somewhere along the lines of disclosing that the number is unavailable, even when it’s not in use. The voice here also doesn’t resemble the usual voice you hear whenever you call a number that’s not in use.

It’s honestly also odd to hear a message say that a number is available, because that’s something I’ve personally never encountered. I even tried to look up on it to see if this message is common and maybe I’m just out of the loop, but every search led me to results saying the most common message is to say that a number is unavailable, again even when it is available for use.

And lastly, the most odd part of this new message is the four numbers at the end unprompted.

2499

The only connection I could find to this number is that it appears to be a slight mix up of the last four digits of the surfer boy number.

Original number: 805-45-PIZZA aka 805-457-4992

So is 2499 some sort of acknowledgement of the number itself? And if so, why wouldn’t it just be 4992? Why would it use those same exact numbers, but pull 2 from the end and put it at the front of the other three numbers? And then just end the message there?

It’s so odd to me.

While it could be nothing, I honestly don’t think it makes sense for Netflix to drop the Surfer Boy number altogether, given that they’re making the choice to not drop all the others. They could easily drop the previous ones and save some money if that’s the issue, but apparently it’s worth keeping them. And so why not keep the one that is still likely to be referenced going forward?

Regardless it’s likely that if Netflix still has access to the number, the message is bound to change again. So we’ll have to stay tuned for if and when that happens…

Edit: I FORGOT! There was another message for the Surfer Boy number, which preceded Argyle’s Pineapple pizza message. I only remembered after googling the number’s digits and coming across someone composing it. Still not sure what to make of it. Still so fucking odd…

[queen-breha-organa]

I wanted to briefly come back online and discuss the WGA and, in turn, the current writer's strike.

I know my opinion matters very little, and I don’t consider myself an expert or a valuable voice in this matter. However, since I talk about Star Wars a lot, I wanted to discuss the strike because these things go hand in hand. I think it’s unfair to ignore the real-world circumstances that shape the media you enjoy. Knowing the context of something is important. And beyond that, this situation has just been on my mind, and I wanted to express my thoughts somewhere. 

Firstly, all workers should be paid living wages. All workers deserve to be treated fairly and compensated fairly. All workers deserve safe, productive, and fair working environments—end of story.

I’ve been seeing a lot of jokes along the lines of “I didn’t even know media had writers these days,” and while I understand the joke and the potential humor in it, I feel like it’s important to realize that this is entirely why the WGA is striking in the first place.

The writer’s rooms are shrinking. Writers are being overworked. Writers are being underpaid. Writers are being dismissed and undercut. These factors lead to poorly written and poorly managed shows because the individuals who write the bones of the shows are exhausted and burdened by corporate interference, unreasonable deadlines (especially in animation), unfair wages, and stale corporate agendas.

Additionally, these writers often aren’t given the opportunity to oversee or manage their writing while it’s being filmed. Instead, companies are acting as if the writing process ends before the filming process so that they can shorten the writer's contracts and pay them less. However, in actuality, the writing process is often most valuable during the filming process. 

Some things work on paper but don’t work on the day. Maybe the joke doesn’t land, or an actor can’t deliver the line as intended. Writers are needed on set to rework and revise these lines, so the process can run smoother without sacrificing story and believability. Now some actors are incredible at improvising and can make these things work. However, overall, without writers on set, you usually end up with awkward/stiff dialogue or scenes that make no sense. Writing doesn’t stop in the writers' room.

Another massive force driving this strike is the evolution of streaming services. 

With “traditional” tv reruns, the network airing the media has to purchase the viewing rights of the episode or the show. This money is then extended to the people who worked on the show in the form of residuals. It makes sense. Something you worked on makes money, so in turn, you get money. 

However, streaming services have broken this mold by allowing consumers to watch whatever media whenever they want. Streaming services claim that it is no longer possible to pay residuals for these shows since they don’t know how often or when the shows are being watched. This is a lie.

Companies will brag privately in shareholder's meetings and publicly in articles about streaming shows that have done well. We’ll read headlines like “Stranger Things’ Was Most-Streamed TV Show in 2022” or “‘Star Wars’ vs. Marvel: Which Disney+ Shows Are Most-Viewed.” These articles and the data within them prove it is possible to know how frequently shows/movies are being watched on streaming services. Still, companies are only willing to shell out this information for bragging rights and not for fair payments.

In 2021, Disney CEO Bob Chapk earned $32 million. In contrast, the WGA website states, “Median weekly writer-producer pay has declined 4% over the last decade. Adjusting for inflation, the decline is 23%.” These writers are merely asking for 3%, while CEOs are given the moon.

This is unacceptable.

If you’re reading this post, if you’re on Tumblr and engaging with fandoms enough to have this post written by me, a Star Wars blog, circulate on your feed, media writing has affected your life. Writers have impacted you and your daily routine and hobbies. 

You should care about this strike. You should be supporting this strike. 

We all want our favorite shows to come back, we all want to reunite with our favorite characters, and we all want to see their stories, their triumphs, and their struggles. 

But the real people behind these stories and behind these characters are far more important than any fictional narrative. 

These writers have crafted the worlds and stories we love, and by supporting them, we can return the favor and craft a better world for them too.

[mybrainproblems]

hello, i'm finales georg...

i don't want to further clutter up the notes on this post while responding to the tags below but the persistence of the "finale is short/scenes are missing/extra ad break” conspiracies drives me absolutely bananas when i've watched the finale ten times and have posted about this A LOT trying to clear things up. (disclaimer that yes, i'm a goddamn destiel shipper but i care about Facts above all.)

ok but this is weird because i'd swear the episode was shorter (11 missing scenes!) but okay. maybe we all mandela effected ourselves into #beleving that. because it felt shorter. but i will die on the hill that it had another ad break. i understand this person has the thing #recorded with ads so i am thinking maybe different ad breaks in different idk time zones??? #because the finale did air an hour earlier in canada so maybe idk i am reaching here but maybe different states or whatever had different #ad breaks??? as for the last minute changes - wasn't the cover band asked for permission to use their version of carry on like a week before #the thing aired??? so even if the episode was 42 minutes and had no additional ad break - which i am side eying but lets say all was normal #i will always say they were changing thing until the absolute last minute (carry on my wayward son X 2 #the crew on the bridge which is not only giant 4th wall breaking but also wow they really got all those people in one place in times of #covid???) #anyway. tinfoil hat stays on sorry guys :/ (via @officialmisha)

short and snarky: there are plenty of real and sourced examples of network homophobia and scripted/directed destiel scenes being cut to point to. we don’t need to make this stuff up just bc the finale wasn’t what we wanted. so it’s not the mandela effect — it’s ppl repeating a conspiracy/rumor bc it supports their narrative and it’s easier and more fun to repeat something that supports a narrative they already believe (misha or something destiel was cut) vs the boring act of fact checking.

longer circumspect answer with links bc like many ppl i am in my debunking era and i rewatched "roblox_oof" last night.

like i said. i've watched the finale ten times. i’ve gone over the episode with a fine toothed comb and posted a detailed breakdown of timing marks on my blog. it’s actually extremely obvious where the ad breaks are once you know roughly where to look for them (they have a longer fade to black instead of a quick cut scene change). there’s no room for extra ad breaks and i think this conspiracy/rumor persists in part bc the episode feels so sparse in terms of cast and the fact that the episode’s momentum hits a barn post (and rebar) less than 20min into an hour-long programming block.

also i’m begging ppl to actually look at that timing mark post. it’s very straightforward and i spent a lot of time on it. i don’t care if ppl plagiarize it at this point if it means this conspiracy stops. i've got almost every second accounted for.

the "eleven missing scenes" that you're thinking of are probably from the finale script of questionable authenticity that @spnscripthunt acquired back in 2021 which can be found here. it's dated as the “final draft” from 11 sep 2020 and filming on 15x20 wrapped on 10 sep 2020. as noted at the bottom of this superwiki page "[the] script came from someone claiming to have been the person who did the closed captions for the show in Russia. There are some indications that it possibly may not be authentic, but this has not been confirmed."

if we go with the possibility that this was a transcript meant for subtitles, the "omitted" scenes were probably written but never filmed since it's the "final draft" and not a color revision (blue, green, yellow, etc). unfortunately, i’ve lost track of where i read it and a preliminary duckduckgo search isn’t bringing it up bc there's a program for script writing called final draft, but iirc the “final draft” version of a script is a transcript of what was filmed (e.g. there are parts of that 15x20 script that ended up being deleted scenes on the DVD). spnscripthunt also has an example of a confirmed final draft for 09x02 (funnily enough, also a dabb-penned ep). if anyone can confirm with a source that i have the purpose of the “final draft” version designation wrong, please let me know! i love being proven wrong with Facts.

i do want to acknowledge that the two “final drafts” do look different from each other and the 15x20 one doesn't look like a “real” final draft script since it lacks the revision/versioning dates that a script would normally have on the cover page. it could be that it was intended for subtitles; there's the chance it's been re-typed to anonymize it if there was anything indicating who the "owner" was, tho that seems a wee bit cloak and dagger to me. and again: it's considered of questionable authenticity. there are some things that don't quite line up but oh dear god i don't want to get even further out into the weeds than i already am.

i won't disagree that it's weird as hell that neoni only got asked about using their cover seven days prior to the episode airing (tiktok here). my personal theory is that they were hoping to get a more expensive song (maybe a zepp song, idk) and didn't manage to secure the rights in the end. again: this is pure conjecture on my part! but i could absolutely see someone working on the show hearing neoni’s cover and liking it and then maybe they were using it as a placeholder until it got down to the wire and they had to make a call/send the ep to networks. because yes, it is baffling they played a song and then a cover of it with only a 40 second break between. (i do actually really like the neoni cover! the placement is just weird and i think it could have worked if they had the kansas version at the beginning and closed with neoni's full cover.)

as to the 4th wall break COVID stuff: robert singer talked with variety magazine about filming the last two episodes and the logistics of filming during a pandemic. whether they should have been filming during a pandemic is a separate discussion but their use of office vs set pods, strict quarantining and daily testing meant that they had zero positive tests in the month they were filming (18 aug to 10 sep). so given all that, i personally don’t think it’s totally out of pocket to have everyone standing outdoors on a bridge for maybe an hour to get a drone shot of them together. (i won’t get into incubation periods and viral load, but if everyone tested negative that day and every day for a month prior, it was a fairly low risk scene to film outdoors and for all we know everyone was masked until the last possible second. there were plenty of outdoor masked protests in 2020 that weren't superspreader events.)

and before anyone brings up “but misha was in vancouver!” i know someone who looked into it and they said no dice, nothing matched up between the backgrounds in those pics and places in vancouver. his statements about “us” going back to set over the summer were pretty generic in hindsight and “we”/"us" could be him or the spn crew generally. unfortunately i’m not able to find those tweets but the use of “we” was likely so as not to give away he wouldn’t be returning to set. (bc we were absolutely casbaited!) and bc it comes up a lot: the "onion field pic" was from when they were filming 15x17 and was not taken while filming 15x19 and 15x20.

besides, it would be ridiculous to go through the financial and logistical headaches of bringing someone into the country to film during a pandemic, only to cut their scenes in the end! honestly, the script is pretty tight when the scenes are given so much breathing room! the only thing i could see being further cut down is The Monologue and even then, i don’t think there was any intent to cut it down given it was filmed in fairly long takes.

i’ve said it many times before, but i believe the finale was fucked long before they returned to set. walker got the green light in sep 2019 and it was being marketed heavily as a “follow on” show to spn given jared’s involvement. the demo they were courting for walker has little to no overlap with the demo for destiel fans — why would they want a finale that catered to a demo they weren't interested in courting? we just went through a historic double strike that exposed so much of the rot of business interests overriding creative vision. this isn't completely unfounded conjecture.

i will not apologize for the length of this bc i wanted to be thorough, but i do want to give context that i think the reason these conspiracies and rumors grind my gears so much is because anyone can fact check all of this. the truth is out there and absolutely none of it is that hard to find. the most time consuming/difficult part of this was finding someone who had a DVR’d copy of the finale from when it aired live and they actually found me themselves after i’d been low key asking around for a year!

and like. i get it. conspiracies are fun. but there are so many sourced instances of network homophobia and destiel being cut that it's like. why is this something folks are hanging onto? the cw is notorious for having upper level meddling with finales bc there's a follow-on show they want to shuffle fans along to and spn is no exception.

[movedtoadifferentspace]

i shifted last night for the first time in 2 years. . .

MOVED TO @kodtheshiftinggodd !

📌 — QUICK RUNDOWN OF MY SHIFTING JOURNEY

umm so i started on shifttok ( unfortunately) back in like november of 2021, i was shifting to naruto. during like 2021-2022 i had experienced a lot of shifts, ranging from weird realities i didn’t plan on going to, only being there for a few moments, not realizing i was there even though i was there for over an hour, and literally shifting while doing dishes. 🧍

sometime in like the summer of 2022 i stopped shifting doing to being in a relationship with this really cringy dude… who like thought i would disappear out of thin air… if i shifted… ( and some shifttok drama that i got brought into, that’s a whole other story if you wanna hear that, the rundown is i got randomly outcasted bc i had BPD and autistic traits ( literally what they said ) ) yeah not my finer moment. anyways, i also just lost a lot of motivation for it. i still hated this reality but i don’t know, shifting just, idk. it took me just a few months ago to realize that the shifttok mean girls who outcasted me, made me feel like i didn’t deserve to shift in some way. ( when i realized that, i realized how fucking stupid that was )

and so i’ve been really reevaluating my journey, spent a lot of time of shiftblr instead of shifttok, even started my own discord to get rid of misinfo!!! which by the way shiftblr has helped me change my mindset SO MUCH! like i’ve been literally a ghost on here but i adore ya’ll so much !!and basically i feel really confident about shifting. i’ve shifted every time i tried, even though it was a very short shift, i have been practicing manifestation, LOA, & meditation and yeah here we are !

🐇 — THE SHIFT ITSELF

so i read something last night on shiftblr, it’ll be linked here, i already was/am in the mindset of “if i try to shift i’m going to fucking shift” like it doesn’t matter to me anymore, i’m doing it. instead of trying every night, i’ve been focused on trying on weekends when i have no responsibilities and such. though throughout this week i have been practicing my meditation/reaching the void state. SO i saw that post and honestly… i wasn’t really like looking to shift, it was a very impromptu thing. i put on a subliminal [ the one i used ] and i went to bed. i was thinking about one my alt realities a better cr though i hate the term better cr where i live in Oregon, and I am a tattoo apprentice, Levi Ackerman from AOT is the one I am apprenticing for. this is really based on me learning how to tattoo and not having to spend time with the AOT cast while also fighting titans and save the world. while that is great, I wanted something chill SO YEAH. I fell asleep to thinking about that… and I shifted. not to that reality but a weird parallel/version of it?

I did this with my first ever shift too. it was almost like a dreamlike reality, but only subtly. soooo I did reality checks.. and it for sure wasn’t a dream. I lived in the apartment above the shop ( which isn’t what i scripted ) and I went down and just went to work with Levi, Hange, and Zeke. I was really on edge though, like “omg i shifted” “i’m literally talking to Levi wtf” like i had no time to process or ground myself so i ended up coming back. but yeah. that’s what happened and i’m determined to get to this ALT reality. ( not in a rushed way, but a ‘i know im going to get there soon’ way )

anyways, that’s my first ever shiftblr post ahhh xxxx

creds to @jolynesmom for their post that i found

ALSO ANY TIPS WILL BE WONDERFUL, i’m literally always looking for things to improve my journey <3 or new things to try at least

happy shifting <3

[commanderbuffy]

Sapphic Books Reccs

Here is my list of recommended sapphic books! There’s a lot of YA here since that’s a lot of what I read. Everything on this list I have personally read and can recommend. I’m sure there’s a TON out there I haven’t read or ones I have read and have just forgotten!

Contemporary

Astrid Parker Doesn’t Fail by Ashley Herring Blake (Adult)

My favorite of Blake’s! Enemies to lovers. SO good.

Delilah Green Doesn’t Care by Ashley Herring Blake (Adult)

A woman falls for her step-sister’s best friend. Oh, and there’s a kiddo in the mix as well.

The Falling in Love Montage by Ciara Smyth (YA)

Two girls promise a summer of fun full of rom-com worthy dates. The only rule, no relationships. Just one summer, nothing more. Sure....

Forget Me Not by Alyson Derrick (YA)

Amnesia fic where a girl forgets she ever met her secret girlfriend in their ultra-conservative town.

Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar (YA)

Fake dating between the girl who wants to validate her bisexuality to her friends and the girl who doesn’t mind the popularity boost.

Her Name in the Sky by Kelly Quindlen (YA)

Best friends to lovers! A big piece of this is also the friend group involved.

Imogen, Obviously by Becky Albertalli (YA)

Imogen thinks she’s just an Ally. Spoiler alert: she’s not. I loved the way friendship was explored in this. You see some really solid friendships as well as a subtly toxic one (that’s acknowledged as such).

Late to the Party by Kelly Quindlen (YA)

An ode to late bloomers and a journey to self-acceptance. A girl goes to her first party, befriends a gay guy who introduces her to new group of friends and one really cute girl

Margo Zimmerman Gets the Girl by Brianna Shrum and Sara Waxelbaum (YA)

Super fun involving a girl asking another girl fo “Queer 101″ lessons. Bi and Autistic rep too!

Perfect on Paper by Sophie Gonzales (YA)

A girl gives anonymous love advice and gets hired by a hot guy to help him get his ex back. Really FANTASTIC bi rep!

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston (Adult)

A sexy time-bendy romance with so much heart

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen (YA)

My FAVORITE rom-com. I reread it constantly. Fake dating, enemies-to-lovers between the cheer captain and basketball star!!

She Gets the Girl by Rachael Lippincott and Alyson Derrick (YA)

Two girl team up to get their crushes to fall for them and start developing feelings for each other along the way.

Six Times We Almost Kissed by Tess Sharpe (YA)

Childhood frenemies forced to move in together for their best friend moms’ sake. Trauma filled and SO SO good.

Some Girls Do by Jennifer Dugan (YA)

A fun rom-com between an out queer athlete and the local beauty pageant queen.

We Are Okay by Nina LaCour (YA)

One of my favorite books of all time. A story about grief and friendship and love. A soft, quiet story.

Who I Was With Her by Nita Tyndall (YA)

A girl’s secret girlfriend dies and she is left to grieve alone until she finds herself turning to her girlfriend’s ex.

Science Fiction/Fantasy

Crier’s War by Nina Varela (YA)

A romance that leads to revolution by between two girls: one human, one Made

The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow (Adult)

This is historical and fantasy! Suffragette witches! Another one of those books I wish I could read again for the first time. Three sisters, one of them has a WLW romance

Thriller/Horror

Hide by Kiersten White (Adult)

A high-stakes hide and seek competition in an abandoned amusement park. One of my all-over favorite books of 2022.

House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland (YA)

No wlw romance in this one, but the main character and her sister are both wlw. My absolute favorite book of 2021. What I would pay to read this for the first time again.

The Girls I’ve Been by Tess Sharpe (YA)

The daughter of a con artist is finally allowed to stop running and faking her identity, only to get stuck in a bank heist with her ex-boyfriend and current girlfriend.

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand (YA)

Three girls who shouldn’t have a reason to team up together against an ancient evil. The new girl, the pariah, and the queen bee who’s been helping the evil all along. I have reread this book easy a dozen times.

Throwaway Girls by Andrea Contos (YA)

When a girl goes searching for her missing best friend, she finds a trail of other missing girls and battles with heartbreak after her girlfriend leaves her for California.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power (YA)

Quarantined at her girl’s school after a gruseome Tox breaks out, a girl must find what happened to her best friend who’s gone missing

Historical

Great or Nothing by Joy McCullough, Caroline Tung Richmond, Tess Sharpe, and Jessica Spotswood (YA)

The queer Little Women retelling we all deserve with a SAPPHIC JO! Set in 1942. Beth’s POV still haunts my heart

A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray (YA)

Two of the major supporting characters are WLW. This becomes more important and on the page in the later books in this series, but this is the first one.

Music from Another World by Robin Talley (YA)

1970s California. Two girls become penpals and bond over music.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid (Adult)

Hollywood icon Evelyn Hugo famously had seven husbands. This is the story of her wife.

[utilitycaster]

(not accusatory in tone) But in what ways does Dropout specifically cater to their loud obnoxious fans? I am a pretty casual D20 fan and only briefly lurked in Dropout’s discord when it existed, but I’ve seen this sentiment a few times now where people say Dropout listens to these fans as opposed to say CR, who has definitely backed out of unmoderated fan spaces. I was curious how Dropout differed (especially as much of their cast seems to use twitter and social media sparingly)?

I believe that the Dropout server's collapse is directly tied to the fact that they never had a "keep it on topic" rule, clumsily tried to implement a "no politics rule", and listened to a loud and unpleasant minority on Twitter who pushed back so hard that they opened up multiple political channels. Their next Discord survey specifically requested (volunteer) mods from specific minority backgrounds, one of which was a group of which I am a part, which was frankly disgusting - like, the reason pretty much any other fan server I've seen has a broad "on topic" policy is because most fan server moderators are like "I can handle making sure people keep it appropriate to a D&D show; I am not prepared to moderate discussion on geopolitics." The fact that the Dropout server's solution was to ask people from minority backgrounds to do this labor was infuriating and I have to admit, had they not shut down the server soon after I'd have at least written an actual letter (well, email) saying that unless they started paying mods, I would cancel my subscription over it. (I did say that I found this wildly inappropriate in the survey).

I also found their mods even before that whole debacle to be grossly incompetent. The biggest example I have in mind is that in The Ravening War, Lou's character Deli was at minimum flirting heavily with his aunt by marriage (and that this was reciprocated) and the mods like...outright said this wasn't happening because it would be icky, in pretty much those words; but this was not an isolated incident.

On the other side, Critical Role has pretty consistently only listened to fans for major missteps (the Wendy's one-shot) and otherwise has stuck to their guns on setting their own timeline and agenda for making or not making political statements, keeping moderated fan spaces on-topic, and also just not giving into fan requests that would require immense and impossible to moderate effort for very limited benefit (the biggest of which is their choice to keep their existing blanket content warning in most situations, despite a similarly small but loud contingent back in early 2021 making a commotion about it).

I think most of the problems with Dropout listening to fans stopped once they made the server read only. I do think that the fandom generally still has some of that problem (there's a zine scene, which I think is great, honestly, but a lot of the people who work on the D20 zines think they're king shit of fuck mountain for doing so) but I no longer think that any representatives of Dropout the company are listening; I think the server led them to learn their lesson.

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 11

“NFWMB”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: this chapter is strictly for the girls, gays, and theys. If you are a straight man, please move along. This isn’t for you ☻

Summary: Two days prior to you waking from your unconscious state, Tess comes back to the apartment with a proposition for Joel. Tess wants to send Robert a simple message: don’t fuck with us again. As your relationship with Joel progresses, the trauma from the night you nearly died, haunts you. Fed up, you decide that you want to get your own revenge.

~word count : 6.3k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, gay pining (Tess x f! love interest) angst, trauma, brief mention of PTSD, nightmares, swearing, paraphernalia (puff puff pass) fluff, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, implicit smut, smut, consent consent consent, unprotected sex p in v (wrap it kids) oral sex (f receiving) fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, nicknames, teasing, after care, revenge plot, graphic depictions of violence with guns and knives, graphic depictions of torture, stab wounds. (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“NFWMB” by Hozier

“Devil’s Advocate” by The Neighbourhood

“Hayloft II” by Mother Mother (listen to this at the last half of the chapter)

“Dinner & Diabtribes” by Hozier

“Twisted” by Two Feet

“Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

“Eden” by Hozier

“Like Real People Do” by Hozier

April 2021 : Boston QZ

It was two days before you would awake from your unconscious state. Tess had stopped by the apartment for a change of clothes, ammo and to of course check on you and Joel. She had been thinking about sending Robert a silent message for a few days now. She wanted him to know that what he did wasn't going to go unnoticed. Of course, she was aware that Joel would probably fight tooth and nail on this so she had to be smart with her words.

She found Joel in his usual spot, right next to you, holding your hand. This time, he had a book in his free hand and he was softly reading to you. He almost didn’t hear Tess come in till he heard the sound of her bag hitting the floor with a thud. His head whipped around to the direction of where the sound came from and he was already reaching for his gun, only to stop when realized it was just Tess. He muttered something under his breath as she walked over.

“This is exactly why I told you that you need to get some decent sleep, Joel.” She said as she quietly pulled up one of the chairs from the kitchen table and sat down.

“Yeah? Well, you’re lucky I didn’t accidentally shoot you just now Tess.” He gruffly responded. Closing the book on the page he left off on and set it down on the coffee table quietly.

“How’s she doin?”

“Better, I think.” He looked over at her then before refocusing his eyes on you.

Tess let out a sigh then, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the chair. Joel didn’t even need to look at her face to know she was gonna tell him something that he wouldn’t enjoy hearing. He just knew by her sigh alone.

“Go on and spit it out Tess. Whatever it is you’re gonna say.”

“Nice to know that you’re still sharp.”

He waited for her to continue while he was gently stroking the outside of your hand with his thumb. Attentively watching your face to see if you would react to his touch at all. Nothing.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now and before you get all, well, you. Just hear me out, alright?”

“Go on, i’m listenin.” He nodded then.

“We need to send Robert a silent message and let him know that he should watch his back. We’re just sitting here and letting him get away with ambushing us like that. I mean for fuck sakes Joel, she nearly fuckin bled out on the goddamn kitchen table.”

His shoulders visibly tensed at the painful reminder that your blood was stained all over the table just a few feet away. His jaw clenched tightly as he closed his eyes, gritting the word out above a harsh whisper.

“No.”

“Joel, if we don’t do somethin, we’re gonna end up looking weak. Do you want that fucker to think we were weak?”

He turned then so he was looking at her, the angle strained his back but he didn’t care.

“So, what? You’re gonna go after him, risk your life like that? No Tess. It’s fuckin stupid and you don’t need to go and be the hero.”

She scoffed then. Rolling her eyes.

“So you’re just perfectly okay with him getting away with it? Who’s to say that he’s not fuckin plotting against us again already? James almost fuckin killed Gwen, because Robert sent him after us, and you’re not the least bit interested in getting even with him?”

“When did I say that I'm perfectly okay with him getting away with it, huh? You think I don’t want to go out there right now and gut that fucker myself? You think I don’t want his blood all over my hands?” He nearly growled the last bit out. Sure, he wanted his revenge but it was too risky, especially with how vulnerable you were now.

“Great, I was concerned that she had just completely softened you to a goddamn Marshmallow.”

“You really want to push it right now Tess?”

“No, but you’re honestly leaving me with no choice at this point.”

He sighed then, dragging his hand against his face as he inhaled deeply and exhaled.

“What’s your plan then?” He gave in.

“The warehouse that Robert conducts his business in is on the outskirts of the QZ. There’s enough building coverage for me to hide out on one of the rooftops. Gonna take one of his men out each day. Sends a pretty damn obvious message, don’t you think?”

“So, you’re gonna snipe ‘em out, one by one?”

“Fuck yeah I am.”

He looked over at her then, watching her face for a moment and he could just tell that she was itching for a little revenge and even though he didn’t 100% agree with it, he knew Tess well enough that she was gonna go and do it anyway.

“You gonna have backup?”

She laughed lightly. Shaking her head a little. “No shit Sherlock, course I'm gonna bring backup. You think I'm stupid enough to go in on it alone?”

He couldn’t help but flash her a small grin then. Tess was far from stupid.

“No, I just wanted to make sure you’d have your bases covered. So, who are you bringin then?”

“Beatrix.”

He raised a brow then, familiar with the name as she was a fellow smuggler.

“Fair choice. Does she know about your little scheme then?”

“Yes. Well, no not yet, but she will soon.”

He nodded then before turning his body so he was facing your sleeping form once more.

“Well, sounds like you’ve got yourself a date.”

Tess was thankful that Joel had turned away from her now because almost instantly, there was a slight blush to her cheeks. Joel had no idea that he was right on the money with that one.

“Yeah, something like that.” She stood from the chair then, tucking it back under the table before she grabbed a fresh carton of bullets from the counter. Quickly reloading her gun and grabbed her bag from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder.

“Tess? Just, be careful. Alright?”

“Always.” She responded. Taking one last look at him with a slight nod before she left the apartment. Leaving Joel to his thoughts, and boy, did he have a lot of them.

_______________________

Tess knew it wouldn’t take much to convince Beatrix to be her lookout. She wasn’t hesitant about the possibility of getting killed. Beatrix loved to live life on the dangerous side. It wasn’t the only reason Tess wanted her as her backup. Of course, there was more to it.

Beatrix had spotted Tess walk through the community square easily. Tess had this thing about her. She exuded confidence, she walked into a room and owned that shit. Probably was one one of the many reasons Beatrix was attracted to her. She had a glass of homemade hooch in-front of her. Her tattered bandana hanging loosely around her neck. She gave Tess a small grin over the rim of her glass as she walked over.

“Was this close to thinking that you were gonna ditch me.” She spoke, setting her glass down and leaned over the small expanse of the makeshift table.

Tess brought her hand against her chest in mock shock.

“Me, ditching you? Never.” She looked around the area they were in for a moment before she leaned in and whispered, “Can we go somewhere a tad more private?”

That's all it took for Beatrix to nearly jump out of her seat and follow Tess into a nearby alley. Once they were certain no one would see them, Tess grabbed her hand then pulled her inside an abandoned building.

“Is this where you brutally murder me?” She mused and Tess laughed quietly, backing her into a wall before rewarding her with a chaste kiss.

“No. That would be pretty cliche don’t you think? Back alley, abandoned building. Pssh, I can definitely do better than that.”

Beatrix wasted no time threading her fingers through Tess’s hair, kissing her back while she let her free hand slide around her throat gently.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

Tess had pulled away from the kiss then, a playful glint in her eye as she grabbed Beatrix’s hand once more, leading her towards the stairs.

“You’re such a fuckin tease you know that?” Beatrix had huffed, stumbling after her.

“Comes naturally to me, what can I say?” She led her up the stairs, kicking the rusted door open and led her out onto the abandoned rooftop.

“Ohhh so this is where you murder me, right?”

Tess laughed then, Beatrix brought this side out of her. She didn’t think that moving on from Joel would be this easy, but Beatrix was like a breath of fresh air to her.

“No, Bea.” She grinned at her. “I like having you around so you’re safe, for now.” She teased.

_______

A few more kisses and touches were shared before the two found themselves sitting against the wall of the rooftop, side by side, sharing a joint. How Beatrix managed to find weed this fresh, was beyond Tess.

“So, what’s the real reason you brought me up here? Don’t come up with some cliche bullshit like to see the view or something.” She took a long drag from the joint, inhaling before she blew the smoke out to the side and handed it to Tess, their fingertips brushing lightly.

“I want to take out some of Robert’s men. One by one. Send that fucker a message.”

Beatrix raised a brow then in her direction. “Revenge? Hm. I like it. How are you planning on doing that though?”

Tess took a slow drag then, closing her eyes as she inhaled and exhaled the smoke upwards. Beatrix was watching the way her lips expertly wrapped around the thin paper, biting her lip the slightest.

“My plan was to snipe them out from a rooftop. I was thinking one a day. Just enough that he would start to notice. I need someone to be my backup, my lookout.” She took another drag then before turning her head slightly to look at her.

“Me?”

Tess nodded then, a small grin slipping over her lips as she reached over and gently placed her hand around Beatrix’s cheek.

“Yeah, who the hell else would I ask?”

“Figured it would be Joel.”

“He’s a little preoccupied at the moment. He doesn’t leave her side. I had to literally force him to shower just the other day and that man is fuckin stubborn Bea.”

Beatrix nodded then, closing her eyes for a moment as she rested her cheek in Tess’s palm. “So, are you doing this Gwen? Or, for him?”

“She nearly bled out on my fuckin kitchen table, Bea. I watched her go down. I heard her screams. Besides, I let him go. What other choice did I have? He was never mine to begin with, not really.”

Beatrix finished what was left of the joint and flicked it over the side of the rooftop before she climbed into Tess’s lap, placing her hands on either side of her head as she leaned down, lightly brushing her nose against hers, closing the small proximity between them. “Yeah, but you’re mine, right?”

Tess was not used to being underneath anyone. It was frankly not her style but she had to admit, Beatrix had some solid game. She leaned up then, brushing her lips against hers, just barely kissing her, while her hands found their way around her waist, pulling her in close so their chests were flushed. “Yeah, baby. I’m yours.”

“Alright damn, you don’t gotta ask me twice. I’ll be your lookout.” She closed the gap between them then, giving her a proper kiss and Tess couldn’t help but let out a light laugh between kisses.

____________________________________

Waking up in Joel Miller’s arms was something that you would never get used to, you were certain of it. He was always there. Holding you, loving on you. Even more so now since you entirely gave yourselves to each-other a few nights ago. Safe to say that you both had a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. Him in particular. He loved your thighs, your tummy, the swell of your breasts. He loved kissing on you the most, listening to your sweet giggles turn to soft moans when he would leave love marks around your neck, collarbones and down your chest. He always had to be touching you in some way. Skin on skin. Not that you were complaining, the attention was well received and you found yourself returning it. You loved to be the big spoon, leaving kisses between his shoulder blades while your hands roamed his chest and tummy. You liked the fact that he was strong, yet squishy in the right spots.

On this particular spring morning, while the sun was starting to peek through the tattered curtains, and you could hear the soft morning songs of the birds outside, you found yourself studying Joel’s facial features while he rested. His lips looked like two soft pink pillows, begging to be kissed. His hair, soft and fluffy and mussed up from sleep, and you. You took in all his little imperfections. The scar across the ridge of his nose, another along his forehead, just under his hairline. Finally, the scar running across his brow, the one you left with your knife. Joel Miller was ruggedly handsome, you’d even call him beautiful.

Your longing stares seemed to have been caught when he rasped lowly, his voice thick with sleep with a low rumble from his chest. “Y’know, it’s rude to stare, honey.”

He had a small smirk tugging on his lips as he slowly peeked an eye open at you.

“I wasn’t starin. No clue what you’re goin on about, cowboy.”

“Oh? So you totally weren’t checkin me out with those pretty eyes? Well, in that case..” He was already reaching for you then, grabbing your hips in his calloused hands, coaxing you into his lap as you lightly giggled.

“Joel, I swear. I wasn’t starin!” You looked down at him then, letting your hands slide up his bare chest slowly.

“You’re a shit fuckin liar, Sugar.”

You leaned down then, your hair falling down around your face in a soft curtain as you grasped his jaw between your fingers.

“Shut up. Do’ya want a kiss or not? I’m feeling generous.” He was already sitting up then, meeting you halfway as his hands came up to your face, gently caressing you as he kissed you deeply. It didn’t take long for him to gently flip you on your back, pulling the covers around you both as he slipped inside of you with ease. Morning sex was by far his favorite.

He was laying on his side now with your back against his chest and your arm gently resting along your hip bone as you were both catching your breath. This man had some serious stamina after 3 rounds. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t done with you just yet. You felt his sweat soaked hair tickling your skin as he buried his face in your neck, leaving feather light kisses. His arm had slid around your middle, tucking around your waist comfortably as he came down from his high. A few comfortable minutes of silence had passed before he spoke, his words muffled by your skin against his lips. “Y’remember a couple nights ago when I said I wanted to treat ya? Wanted to get a proper taste of you?” He hummed the last part out and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You lifted your arm that was resting along your hip bone and slowly brought it up into the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the soft strands. You turned your head slightly so you could look at him just as he had lifted his head up from your neck to look at you. His eyes were soft, warm, and inviting. He looked at you with a slight, suggestive raise of his brow, and you instantly felt your cheeks heat up. “Yeah, I remember you briefly mentioning it.”

“Yeah? How would ya feel if I showed you just what I meant? Only if you wanna of course.”

He watched as your cheeks flushed a bright red as you stumbled over your words. “Well I, it's not that I don’t want you to it’s just–”

“What is it honey? It’s alright, I’m not gonna pressure ya or anythin okay? That’s the last thing I ever wanna do.”

“You’re fine Joel, really baby you’re fine. I just, well–I honestly assumed that most guys aren't like..into the whole body hair thing y’know?” You felt slightly embarrassed over the fact that you were even having this conversation. It was unfortunate because your past ‘lovers’ had made you feel ashamed for having body hair, despite the fact that it was completely fuckin normal. Besides, where the hell were you gonna find a razor and shaving cream in a goddamn apocalypse?

Joel looked at you then, he really looked at you. “That’s cause they’re boys, Sugar. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but i’m a man, and I fuckin love every inch of your skin. Every blemish, every scar, every ‘lil imperfection. Love ‘em all. Joel spoke with the utmost sincerity. “Know you’re tired, honey. So I'll let ya rest a little more but when you’re ready, i’m gonna show ya just how much I love ‘em.”

You were left feeling stunned then. Blinking a few times as you processed his words. Yeah, no man was ever going to compare to Joel fucking Miller. “You’re insane, you know that? Laying there, looking like that, saying all the right things. You’re making my head spin, Fuck you.” You spoke playfully.

Joel responded by dipping his head down and pressing a light kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder. Slowly trailing them down the expanse of your arm where it rested along your hip bone. You could feel his smug grin against your skin, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Lie on your back, honey. Get nice and comfy for me, okay?” He had removed his arm from where it was draped along your waist while he watched you slowly turn over onto your back. He was kind enough to fluff the two pillows behind your head before you laid down.

“Gonna take care of you Sugar. Just like I promised. If you want me to stop, just let me know, kay?” He was leaning over you now, his hand resting along your thigh gently dragging his fingers against your skin.

You couldn’t help but lean up and press a chaste kiss to his lips before he was gently pressing you into the mattress once more. You watched his eyes as he coaxed your thighs open and when his lips started to make their descent down between your breasts, and navel, you instinctively brought your fingers into his hair. He was taking his sweet time as he swirled his tongue around your navel, scooting himself down so he was on his knees between your thighs. He looked up at you, his pupils darkened and a small smirk on his lips. His hands reached around, grabbing the back of your thighs, the pads of his fingertips digging into your skin deliciously as he yanked you down closer to him.

“You can’t even begin to imagine how long i’ve been dyin to get a taste of this pretty little pussy.” The filth dripped from his tongue with ease. You could tell he was enjoying seeing you squirm and he had barely even touched you.

“You gotta stop teasing me, Joel. It’s killing me.”

He chuckled then, pressing a kiss to your hip bone then before dragging his lips down over your pubic bone. He skipped over the area you needed him most and instead, nipped at your inner thighs.

“Patience, honey. Gonna take my sweet fuckin time with you, kay?” he nipped at the soft skin of your inner thighs once more before he ever so slightly, brushed his lips against your clit. It was enough for you to jolt forward and he chuckled lowly, glancing up at you through his long lashes, a glint in his eyes. Before you could speak, he flattened his tongue against you while his fingers teased your slick folds, spreading them open as he flicked his tongue back and forth against your sensitive clit. You tightened your grip on his hair, tilting your head back as you let out a slew of low moans. He wrapped his lips around your clit then, the sucking sounds he made had your head spinning while lapped at your pussy. Drinking you in like you were the last meal he would ever have the pleasures of devouring. His nose was buried firmly against your pubic bone while he changed his game from short, quick flicks to long, hot stripes. Your thighs had closed in around his head slightly from the overwhelming sensation and he used his free hand to prop them back open, tsking you against your pussy before he was reaching his hand under your thigh and grasping yours in his, interlocking your fingers together.

He glanced up at you momentarily, just enough that you could see his chin and beard were coated in your arousal before he dove back in, his fingers that were once teasing your folds were now inside of you, the combination of his fingers and mouth on you was a dangerous one as you moaned out his name.

“Doin so good for me honey. Could eat your pretty little pussy for days.” He mumbled against you, sending vibrations up your core. You just about lost it when he started to shake his head back and forth causing his nose to bump against your clit.

“Fu–fuck Joel, i’m gonna–”

He squeezed your hand then, letting you know that it was okay and that he’s got you and that you were safe.

“I know baby, I got you. You’re safe.” He dragged his tongue against you a few more times as he felt your thighs quiver and shake as you squeezed his hand back tightly.

“Fuck–baby i’m gonna cum! Jesus fuck–your tongue is the fuckin devil–” Your eyes rolled back into your skull, you were seeing stars as your orgasm rippled through you. Joel had given you a few light kitten licks before he pressed a kiss to your swollen clit and slowly slipped his fingers out of you. He kissed his way back up your body, his elbows were on either side of your head by the time he had reached your lips. He pressed feather light kisses to your chin, cheek bones, nose, forehead and finally your lips.

You felt his strong arms wrap around you, gently lifting you up and holding you close to his chest.

“Hey baby, how was that? You good Sugar?”

You had barely processed that you were in his arms again as you came down from your high, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking up at him, a post-orgasm smile gracing your features. “I’ve never been fuckin better. I feel like I'm on a cloud right now.”

He chuckled then. Pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Yeah, well you got me feelin pretty pussy drunk. Coulda kept goin but I didn’t wanna overwhelm ya.”

You grabbed his face gently in your hands then and pulled him in for a proper kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue. “Mmm. Well, you can do that literally whenever you want. I will not say no.”

“You’re just gonna boost my ego honey. It’s gonna go straight to my head.” He mumbled against your lips. After a few moments of kissing, he slowly pulled away climbing off the bed and padded off to the bathroom. He returned shortly with a towel and once again, took his time cleaning you up. Gently wiping between your thighs.

You spent the rest of the day napping together. It was blissful, and you could confidently say that you were happy.

______________________________

You wished that the nightmares never came. You had evaded them for so long now. The trauma of the night that you nearly died. The memories came trickling in and you often found yourself waking up, screaming. Joel was always there. Holding you, comforting you. Letting you sob into his chest before falling back asleep. The nightmares were becoming so constant that you were beginning to lose yourself again. Even with Joel there, you were constantly on edge and it tore you up inside.

By June, you were fed up. You didn’t want to live in constant fear just because of James. He was dead. You killed him. Put him six feet fucking under. That should have been enough for you but it wasn’t. You wanted Robert to pay. You wanted your revenge. Joel knew revenge all too well and he was more than willing to help make sure that it was delivered.

_________________

Robert was an unforgiving man. If someone crossed him, tried to run, he made sure they would pay for it. So when he caught wind that Joel Miller, you and Tess, were making a run for it, he had no problem snapping his grimy fingers and sending his men after you.

You were supposed to be dead. Robert figured out early on that you were the key to Joel Miller’s demise. Taking you out would just be one step closer to him getting rid of Joel and Tess. The saying that you keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, was true for Robert. Joel and Tess were his best smugglers by far, but it was only a matter of time before he would be the one ending up with a bullet to the skull. Robert liked to play dirty, this was a known fact.

So, when the news broke that you were dead, James fatally stabbed you, and you bled out on mossy concrete while Joel clutched you to his chest, was a lie. Robert didn’t know this. He had no reason to believe that you were alive. Stab wounds of any kind were fatal in these pressing times. As far as he was concerned, you were six feet under already.

This lie didn’t become apparent till he heard whispering of you being alive. He had eyes and ears all throughout the QZ. So when this newfound information was relayed back to him, he shot the messenger. Point blank, no hesitation.

“Next person who comes to me with that bullshit, gets a bullet.” He spoke while surveying what was left of his men.

“Sir—”

“You wanna be next?”

“No.”

“Good, that’s what I thought. Now gentlemen, we have a real problem on our hands eh? Someone’s been spying on us, taking us out one by one. My money is on Miller, or Tess. So what do we do about this problem?”

“We snuff it out?” Another spoke.

Robert clapped his hands together then with a sick grin on his face.

“Precisely! We snuff them out. They wanna play dirty cause we have her blood on our hands? So be it. We’ll fuckin play dirty right back.”

Little did Robert know, there would be no snuffing Joel and Tess out. You and Joel were already lurking in the shadows of the abandoned warehouse, waiting to strike. It was your plan, your plot for revenge. You would have gone in alone, but Joel would never let you even when you insisted that you had to do this on your own.

Your back was flush against a half crumbled wall, your gun held between your hands, finger hovering the trigger, Joel was beside you, in the same position. He had slowly peeked his head around the corner to get a good look at Robert and his 5 men.

“5 of ‘em and Robert. Not lookin heavily armed, but we’re gonna have to be quick about this, kay sugar?” He spoke above a whisper, leaning in towards you.

“Just 5? Damn, his numbers are really runnin thin. Tess wasn’t kidding.”

“You still want the first hit on him?” You asked while looking up at him with a raise of your brow.

“I want nothin more than to be the first one to lay a punch on that mother fucker.”

You couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him then, it was a chaste kiss but you both still felt the same sparks.

“I wouldn’t dare take that from you, baby. You lay a good one on him, okay?”

He grinned into your lips then, kissing you right back before he reluctantly pulled away. He got serious again. This was the first time since you nearly died 2 months ago that you were getting back in on the action. This time around, you were calling the shots.

“Alright honey, you got me and I got you. Things get tight and we split, got it?” He spoke with a slight edge to his voice. If something were to happen to you again—

“Joel, we’re gonna get this mother fucker and then we’re gonna go home. I got you, and you got me.”

He gave you a slight nod then, eyes locked on yours. It’s showtime, mother fuckers.

________

“So here’s what I’m thinking: we know where Miller lives, right? We go in at night and—“

BANG

The man to his left drops dead beside his feet.

“Where the fuck did that come from—“

BANG

the man standing across from him, drops, clutching his chest as he bleeds out along the floor. His body twitches for a moment, then goes still.

The three remaining men draw their guns, looking to find where the shots were coming from. You peeked your head out slightly from behind the wall. aim, fire, bullseye motherfucker.

BANG

The third man slumped to the floor, you had put a bullet right between his eyes before he even had the chance to pull his own trigger.

Two more echoing sounds of gunshots were heard, followed by the sound of bodies falling and hitting the floor with a loud thump. Joel had taken the remaining two of Roberts men out when you had finally stepped out of the shadows, aiming your gun right at Roberts head.

He had turned around then, facing you, slowly clapping like the twisted maniac fuck that he was.

“Well, well, well. Quite the performance you put on there sweetheart. Although, correct me if I’m mistaken, but shouldn’t you be dead? Hm. I must be seeing things.”

“James had terrible aim. I didn’t.”

“Ah, yes this is true. I’m disappointed that James didn’t go for your throat. Or gutted you like a fuckin fish you little bitch—“

Joel had stepped out from the shadows then, gun raised, his footsteps heavy on his approach. He had a cold look in his eye. One that you had only seen a handful of times before. It was enough to send chills through even the toughest of bones.

“Brought the guard dog with you as well?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

“He’s just here to watch.” you deadpanned.

Robert raised a brow then, looking between you and Joel.

“What exactly is he here to watch, Gwendolyn?”

“You’ll see. Oh, and Robert? It’s Gwen.”

_________________

Before Robert even had the chance to respond, let alone reach for his gun, Joel was there in front of you, grabbing Robert by the collar of his shirt, and slammed his fist into his face. Hard enough that you could hear the cracking of bone under his knuckles.

The first hit alone was enough to knock Robert out cold. Joel didn’t let his body hit the floor. Oh no, he got a couple more hits in before throwing his body down into the chair.

You worked quickly to tie Robert up then, he was going to be in a world of pain when he woke up.

Robert had painfully returned to consciousness from Joel repeatedly snapping his fingers in his face. In a daze, with his head throbbing, Robert had reached for his gun. Only then to realize that he was strapped down to a chair. Not just with thick rope, but duct tape as well.

He spat out congealed blood from his mouth then, his teeth stained bright red. He looked at the two lovers and chuckled.

“You guys fuckin Bonnie and Clyde now?”

You were the first to speak then as you twirled your knife in your grasp. “No. We’re Gwen and Joel.”

He chuckled again, lolling his head to the side as it felt pretty fucking heavy all of a sudden.

“Mhm. So tell me Gwendolyn, you got me tied up here, at your mercy. Can’t say I haven’t fantasized about this more than once.” He looked at Joel then, a smirk spreading across his lips as he watched him grind his teeth together, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“You gonna kill me now? Huh little girl?”

“No. I’m not going to kill you Robert. You wanna know why?”

“Please darling, enthrall me.”

“That would be showing you mercy. Taking the easy way out. I don’t have an ounce of fuckin mercy for you.”

“He finally let you off your leash, huh? Are you a cold blooded killer just like him?” He asked with a raise of his blood stained brow

You took a few menacing steps forward. All those years of men pushing you around. Taking advantage of you. Calling you a little girl. Underestimating you. It all led up to this very moment.

You came to a stop in front of him then. Grabbing the back of his head and forcing him to look right up at you. “No, I’m worse than that. You leaned down then, your lips at the shell of his ear. I’m a woman seeking her revenge.”

You snapped his head back against the chair then hearing him let out a grunt of pain. Your knife was firmly grasped in your hand still as he looked up at you, still with that same smirk. Not for long you thought. He wouldn’t be smirking for a while.

“Would you mind holding this for me?” You gestured to your knife and watched his face fall slightly at your request. Now you were the one smirking.

“I’m tied to a fuckin chair—“

He was cut off by you jabbing your knife into the deep muscle of his thigh causing him to let out an anguished yell, his body jolting forward. You twisted the blade deep into his flesh then as he shouted out a slew of profanities.

“Thank you.” You spoke in a sickly sweet tone.

“You fuckin bitch I’m going to make sure you pay for that—“

You twisted the knife deeper, slowly driving it through the muscle till the silver of the blade was no longer visible.

“You probably won’t be able to walk again after that. Might even have to amputate it.”

Robert couldn’t even form words then as he looked at Joel, pleading with him to put him out of his misery. Your Joel was leaned against the nearest wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What’re you lookin at him for?”

In one swift movement, you yanked your knife from his torn flesh, making sure to really drag it along as he let out another strangled sound.

You brought the tip of your knife, dripping in his blood to his chin, forcing him to look up at you once more.

“Eyes on me. Don’t look at him, look at me. He can’t help you.”

Robert had spat blood on your face then and just for a split moment, you thought about spilling this man’s blood all over the floor.

“You fuckin listen to everything I’m about to say. You got it? You even think about crossing us again, I will kill you. You think about harming Joel or Tess? I’ll kill you. You fucking ambush us like that again? I’ll kill you.”

You held the edge of your knife against his throat now just so he would take your word seriously.

“You’re crazier than him.” He hissed

You leaned down then so that you were more level and whispered, “Goodbye Robert.”

You retracted your knife from his throat then and kicked the chair hard enough that it fell over. You refused to listen to him yelling that you’d pay for this as you walked away, wiping his blood from your knife and tucked it back into the holster. You didn’t look back, only forward. You looked right at Joel as he pushed himself off the wall, following behind you.

Once the two of you were back outside in the hot summer air, Joel had grabbed your hand then, pulling you into a dark alleyway, backing you into a brick wall gently.

“You okay, sugar? Do you feel better now?”

You brought your arms around his neck then, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you’d kiss me already Miller.”

He grinned then grasping you by the waist before he leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss.

“You were insane back there honey. Remind me to never get on your bad side, okay?”

You hummed against his lips then, gripping his hair tighter.

“Highly doubt you have to worry about that ever happening Joel.”

“Good.” He mumbled against your lips.

_______

You’d be lying if you said that Joel didn’t fuck you in that dark alley, with his hand deliciously clamped over your mouth so no one would hear your filthy moans. His eyes stayed fiercely locked on yours, even as you both came undone.

Yeah, you’d be lying.

Chapter 12:

[daydadahlias]

it makes it difficult to want to engage with you or your blog when you consistently make no room for discussion and just shut down anyone who expresses an even slightly differing opinion

You would have hated me so bad in 2021 oof.

Hello pookie!! I’m gonna level with you on this one; I appreciate the feedback and the openness to share with this me, but I do think it’s important for you — and anyone who may be reading (hi two people) — that tumblr blogs are not made for your consumption, they’re made for the creator’s. 

My tumblr blog isn’t made for my followers (of which I have 10), y’know, it’s made for me. Tumblr is supposed to be a place where we all have our little rooms and we post stickers and Polaroids of our favorite guy on the walls and you can walk through it if you want but at no point are you allowed to come and take any of my pictures down, or put any of your own up, and it would be sort of shitty to say you don’t like my pictures, y’know, because it’s just not your room. 

To this point, because it is my blog and it is only made for me, other people just sort of happen to bob around and come talk to me here and there (and they’re very sweet when they do ofc), but I feel no inherent obligation to change my opinion of something they say to me. Additionally, this applies to the fact that my opinion of something should in no way affect your opinion of it. Because my opinion simply does not matter. I’m a 21 yo 5sos blogger, who gives a shit what I have to say about something?

Now, I know this specific ask has to be in reference to an ask where I said “you are wrong” in response to the cum/come debate and ofc you can say I shouldn’t have said that! That was mean of me! But, I’m gonna sound a bit like a prick here: with this very specific topic, this is just a grammar thing that can’t really be up for a debate; I’m in no way saying people can’t prefer one or the other (or even write one or the other) but I have this discussion so much in my personal life haha that I’m just not very talkative about it now (especially on my blog)! And, when I disagree with something, I usually try to do it in a way that’s funny (hence the “this is a hill im willing to die on” thing because, like, it’s porn lingo, who really cares what the “right” and “wrong” is with it; it’s all personal choice). Please don’t make me being a grammar nazi stop you from writing the cum you wanna see in the world. 

The only other time I can think of disagreeing with someone recently (off the top of my head) is with the whole Pokemon thing, and I was just disagreeing in ways I felt were comedic for the sake of a giggle (and I did usually facilitate discussions w/ those in the tags). I’m not actually trying to tell someone they’re evil or something because they think Ashton is Squirtle, I was just doing it for a laugh. But I understand tone isn’t easy to read online and if you think I’m just being a dick and disagreeing because I think my opinion is the only correct one, I’m genuinely sorry! That’s not how I mean to come across. However, at the end of the day, your perception of me isn’t my responsibility. 

Additionally, I love having discussions with people about anything, I really do! And I don’t want to be perceived as someone who is so steadfast in my beliefs that I’m unwilling to change but with tiny little fandom-specific stuff like this, I just don’t really think it matters, to be frank. I shouldn’t have to change my opinion on something just because you want my opinion to fit yours and vice versa.

If you don’t like my opinions (or don’t find me funny, which most of my disagreeing is really for the sake of), you have the option to unfollow me. Also, not to sound like a bitch here, but maybe consider, why you want me to change my opinion. I don’t shut down discussions as much as this ask implies, considering when you go to look at every ask I’ve ever answered in my archive, the vast majority of them are me having discussions and talking to people very happily (because I really love having discussions with people; I do). 

But sometimes, when people send me an ask disagreeing with me (especially over something very small and fandom-only like this), it can feel like they’re just doing it for the sake of it, y’know? Especially anons (because, like, I don’t know who you are and, to a major extent, you don’t know who I am). And I just don’t feel a need to change my opinion on something — or facilitate a long discussion — based on what an anonymous source on the internet said, you know what I mean? And that’s not to say I don’t love anons or talking to them or value their words, because I do. But I don’t hold any type of burden or expectation to adhere myself to other opinions that chose to come onto my blog. 

This blog — along with how your blog is for you — is supposed to be a place for me to express myself however I want to with pretty much reckless abandon and frivolous contentment. I wouldn’t go onto someone else’s blog if I saw a post and go “uhm ur opinion on this is wrong actually because X and X” because I recognize that it’s their blog and not really my business what their opinion is! Especially if it’s over something minor like cum vs. come. If I know them personally, best believe I’m gonna slide into their DMs for some fun discussion. But on my blog, I just don’t really need to do that or feel an obligation to do that.

(Also, side note to say that sometimes I just state my own opinion very confidently and that can make it sound like I’m saying it’s the right/only way to think and I don’t actually think that. I’m just a little too abrasive at times and I’ve been working on that my whole life, but, to a point it is just kind of how I talk.)

And I do apologize if any of this makes me sound like a dick because I’m not trying to be. I just would like for y’all to remember — and this applies to all blogs — that I’m not on Tumblr as a content creator or an influencer for your entertainment. I’m here on Tumblr as Jess to post about Ashton Irwin’s titties. And my opinion really just doesn’t matter that much. 

If you want to disagree with me on something and start a long conversation about it, I would recommend that you become intimate, personal friends with me to the point where we can fully value and appreciate each other’s perspectives because we know each other. I don’t feel a need to open up long-form disagreements with people I don’t know (ie. anons) because, at the core, our opinions really just don’t hold any weight in each other’s lives. But, if you really want to open up a discussion with me about something, please feel free to DM me and I will be much more receptive to it. 

And this answer is really long! Sorry! But I hope I hit all the talking points. Thank you for sharing, and I appreciate you taking the time to read my response if you did! I had Chatgpt write this whole thing <3 that’s a joke.

[youremyheaven]

Do you think those influencers who dramatically switch from very left wing Marxist alternative etc to very trad Christians (specifically in homophobic/transphobic way) have ketu influence?

You were talking about ketuvians and their struggle to find a sense of self and it made me think of these types of people. I know someone with ketu 1H and magha moon who did this to an extent. She used to identify as non binary and was constantly shifting through different names and pronouns but then one day she just kind of stopped and started saying how she thinks pride is pointless and a waste of time or whatever😭 it wasn’t *that* extreme but I still thought it was a significant shift in belief in such a short time.

I think a lot of people have this dramatic shifts not only out of a need to identify with something due to a lack of sense of self, but also because they like going back to what their parents believe for comfort. I guess those two are interlinked but it’s interesting how my friend is a magha moon and magha is associated with ancestors and whatnot.

I guess mula is somewhat similar as “the root”? Idk about ashwini though

Sorry I haven’t actually had the chance to look into examples since it’s hard to find birth data for influencers and I don’t know that many examples irl 😶‍🌫️ so this is me just going on a tangent and hoping you get what I’m trying to say LMAO

I’m also not sure if anyone else is familiar with this phenomena or if I’m just too engrossed in niche internet drama.

In terms of influencers I guess a somewhat prominent example is Freckle Zelda on tiktok? I never followed her but she went from making cutesy safe space liberal type content in like 2021 and now she’s a Christian and is using it be to super controversial. But like I said I’ve never followed her so idk if this is dramatic enough of a switch to count as what I’m saying.

I also feel like this a rahu trait to switch between extremes🤔 idk lmk what you think

I feel like the capitalist commodification of identity has most adversely affected Nodal people.

If you think about it, spirituality's aim is to transcend the "self" entirely, you stop identifying with labels and attaching yourself to this or that thing. I'm not saying you cease to be a person but you stop trying to "accumulate" identities to hold on to.

9/10 times the reason we identify with something is to feel a sense of belonging but searching outwards for it will only lead to disappointment, when we search within and feel at home within ourselves, we lose the need to externally confined ourselves to rigid "identities"

Yk how people dye their hair, get piercings/tattoos etc to mark a new chapter or the end of an old one or whatever??? It is an attempt to claim something as "yourself" and "solidify yourself". Everything changes all the time, everybody changes yet there are many people who will never dye their hair or change their name or join a cult or whatever (not that all these things are the same) its just that if you're at peace with yourself and truly grounded, you will no longer be shopping for different identities or things to associate with.

Yk those people who have IG bios that read like "Mother, Pluviophile, ESFJ, Petrolhead, UJC'22, Missourian, Ancient Spirit, 1/4th Cherokee, Bitcoin Enthusiast, EDM Lover"

like what do any of those terms say about them?? how on earth is any of this central to your identity? all of these are external ??? is loving rain and being a petrolhead central to your sense of self?? im not trying to demean anybody's interests, im only trying to point out that what we choose to make the focal point of ourselves is up to us and its possible to not be defined by anything?? i think a truly ugly consequence of capitalism is how people try to define themselves by things outside them (their interests, hobbies, job, income level, marital status etc etc) because there is more to a person than all that.

when we retreat within, we base our sense of self on our qualities like kindness, compassion, creativity (this becomes the essence of who we are) so we don't feel the need to claim 87373 other things to describe ourselves

some people overly identify with others like their partners, friends or even strangers and kind of become them. this is also the root of stan culture, by being obsessed with someone to that extent and giving them all your time and energy, you are losing your own qi and harming your Sun (the same way criticizing the appearance of others ruins your Venus)

Rahu is prone to taking things to extremes and Ketu is prone to trying on different identities and losing interest in all of them one after the other. so your observations are right.

i dont really use social media so i dont know any influencers that i can quote as examples ;-; but im thinking of certain celebrities who have had drastic style changes in the past and all of them have nodal influence lol

in the 2000s, the Olsen twins were known for their boho chic hippie style and over the last decade or so they have become known for their "quiet luxury" style. They are Magha Moon

Julia Fox is Ardra Rising and she went from basic to avant garde

Jared Leto, Mula Sun, Ashwini Moon & Rising , he's also the leader of a cult allegedly so👀i guess it all adds up

Adele, Mula Moon & Ardra Rising

im not just talking about her weight loss, just her overall change in style. she got married young and had a baby and in a couple of years she got a divorce and revamped her look to that of an ig baddie

Kylie Jenner, Swati Moon she's changed her style/demeanour every other year since the early 2010s lol

Taylor Swift, Ardra Moon has also had many diff lewkzz throughout the years

before anybody says dont celebs change their styles often?? no they dont, not everybody for sure. look at Jennifer Lopez or Sarah Jessica Parker, theyve been dressing the same since the 90s. constantly evolving style/looks/personality is a Nodal thing. its also a big part of the reason why Nodal people succeed in the entertainment industry and in the material realm (a lot of rich people including Bezos have Nodal placements) because entertainment = illusion, pretending to be someone you're not and for Nodal people, this is pretty much second nature.

im sorry that my response is kind of all over the place. your question provoked some thoughts within me lol and i just had to shareee

i cant think of celebs who have drastically changed their life paths like the example u cited ;-; EXCEPT Bridget Mendler who is an actor, singer, and entrepreneur, has a PhD and went to Harvard Law and now runs a satellite company?? she also adopted a kid during all this? She has Mula Sun

anywayyys thats it for now

tysm for sending this ask!!! its a very thought provoking and interesting question<33hope u have a good day<33

[cieloclercs]

𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 , cl16 — chapter five

pairing. charles leclerc x senna!oc part. 5/? warnings. basically just pure angst 🫠 yeah it’s gonna be like that for a while 😭 swearing, arthur is such an icon in this icl word count. 5.7k

SAUDADE. in which childhood rivals turned best friends realise they were always meant to be something more

05. everything changes (nothing changes)

author’s note. so i’ve had this chapter written for about 2 months. no i don’t have an excuse as to why i haven’t posted it yet 🫠 but i figured i’m going through a bit of a dry spell in my writing at the moment so i may as well post it 😭 hope you guys enjoy, and as always, please leave a comment or reblog if you did !! <3

read it on wattpad!

previous: chapter four next ➜ chapter six

Nice Côte d'Azur Airport 8 February 2021

NOA DOESN’T SEE Charles for another two weeks. She doesn’t hear from him either, not including his brief message confirming her flight’s arrival time. He’s giving her space, just as promised, and she finds herself grateful for that. The time in between their meeting at the café and the looming date of her temporary move to Monaco is for setting the record straight. When Noa breaks the news to her parents, they immediately assume the best of the situation – they’ve patched things up, got over themselves and finally rekindled their friendship. She flushes bright red when she has to cut off her mother’s delighted cheers, and her heart aches to see the grin on her face fall. We’re not friends, she tells them firmly, despite the pain it causes her. Noa is doing this for her career, not for some distant, nostalgic memory of the boy she’d once thought the world of. No. It’s her turn to be selfish for once.

Flávia is understandably upset. Just as Pascale considers Noa to be like her daughter, she has always viewed Charles as a second son. Even though she tries to deny it on several occasions over the weeks before Noa’s flight to Monaco, she isn’t stupid. The first few months after she and Charles stopped speaking to each other, Flávia had been fairly vocal about what she thought of the whole situation. She understood the hurt that they were both feeling, but as far as she was concerned, they still needed each other. Her greatest fear was that they would both continue to grow into the cut-throat world of racing without the person they trusted most at their side. As someone who experienced how difficult life could be at the pinnacle of motorsports, even as only a family member of one of the racers, Flávia worries for them. She had Gabriel to lean on after Ayrton’s death – her best friend and the love of her life. Noa and Charles, as long as they’re apart, don’t have that.

Speaking of her father, he seems to understand her reasoning a little more. Gabriel Borges is ambitious if nothing else. He fought tooth and nail to win his championships and solidify his place in the Formula 1 hall of fame. It’s a trait he’s passed on to his daughter. Sponsorships like this are important now, with racing becoming more and more lucrative with each passing season. In order to succeed, a driver needs the backing of some of the most influential brands in the world. For a rookie, it simply doesn’t get bigger than Chanel. Both Noa and Gabriel know that this is an opportunity she can’t pass up, no matter how difficult it may be for her with Charles there. They need to make it work.

He may not necessarily agree with her ‘keep him at arm’s length’ approach, but if that’s what she thinks is going to work for her, then Gabriel will support her through it.

With Luiz and Eloísa settling into their apartment in Italy, it’s only her parents who wave her goodbye at the airport. Noa has never been a fan of flying. The seats are too cramped and the people too noisy – she can never find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep. Sometimes it can be peaceful simply watching the world pass by beneath her from the window, but eventually, miles upon miles of ocean gets a little boring. So Noa spends the first thirteen hours of her flight wide awake, silently begging the couple in front of her to do something about their screaming baby. Stopping off at Heathrow for the change over feels like a slice of heaven. Just to be able to get up and stretch her legs for a little while is pure bliss. But within an hour she’s back on a different plane, looking down over the English Channel, over Normandy and eventually, the south of France. The nerves begin to set in then. There’s no going back once this plane lands – she’ll be stuck in Monaco with the person she most wants to avoid in the world for the next three weeks. Granted, she’ll have her second family there with her too, but Noa doubts she’ll be able to shake the awkward feeling even when they’re around.

Jetlag’s a bitch, is all she can think when she steps off the plane and into the harsh winter sunlight. It makes her skull ache, beating down on her, yet offering little to no warmth – typical Europe. If only it was summer here like back home. She’s grown accustomed to heat in the high twenties and sleeping with all the windows open. Checking the weather app on her phone, she sees that right now the temperature is barely breaking ten degrees. Lovely. On top of that, Noa hasn’t slept for practically an entire day. She can already imagine the headlines if she gets photographed – Gabriel Borges’ daughter spotted wandering airport sleep-deprived and wearing no makeup! The press would have a field day with that one.

She just about manages to haul her suitcase through security before collapsing on one of the lobby benches. It’s her own fault for overpacking, really. She’s never been one to prioritise well when it comes to clothes. Noa pulls her phone out of her pocket, quickly refreshing it to see if Charles has messaged her yet – sure enough, sent seven minutes ago: I’m outside. Do you want me to come in and help with your bags? Despite the contempt she still feels towards him, Noa could have cried with pure joy. She sends back a brief yes before struggling up off the bench, all but dragging her luggage through the lobby now. She can only hope he gets here quickly, because her arms are surely about to come out of their sockets if she has to carry these any further.

When his figure appears in the distance, the nerves return. He’s dressed like he doesn’t want to be spotted, in a grey hoodie and shorts, large enough that he can practically hide the entirety of his face in the collar. No one seems to notice him. For the moment anyway. When Charles eventually spots her, he seems to hesitate for a moment – like she’d seen him do at the café, arms hanging uselessly by his side as if he wants to outstretch them towards her, but remembers at the last minute that he can’t do that anymore. Noa’s eyes are glued to the ground as she walks towards him. They meet in the middle. He murmurs a brief hello, and when she doesn’t reply, takes her bags without another word.

They walk out to his car in silence. It’s a black Mercedes G63 – inconspicuous by his standards, and perhaps those of the travellers milling around them (many of them are en route to Monaco, after all). It has black tinted windows, she notices. Charles tells her to climb into the passenger seat while he loads her bags into the back. She hasn’t the energy left to complain. It takes everything in her not to fall asleep as soon as she’s sat down, eyes drooping in the dimmed light, a hazy warmth taking over her body. She jumps slightly as Charles opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine. Before Noa can really process what’s going on around her, they’ve already left the airport.

"How was your flight?" Charles asks after a few minutes, soft spoken and hesitant. An absentminded hum is what greets him.

"It was alright." she murmurs back, fighting off the sudden urge to yawn. There's an edge of discontentedness in her voice, an air of frustration and annoyance about her. Noa has always hated flying, he thinks. Even as children all those years ago, she'd kick up the biggest fuss possible before so much as stepping foot on a plane. His mother always joked about it being because she can't sit still for more than a few hours, which, he supposes, had a fair amount of truth. Charles knows it's because the whole thing made her anxious. He's held her hand at takeoff enough times to have realised it, even if she never spoke the words to him out loud.  The memory almost makes him smile. Then he remembers where he is, and his jaw clenches shut.

“Just to let you know, Maman, Arthur and Lorenzo will all be home when we arrive.” Charles is, once again, the one to speak up when they lapse into silence, “They’ve planned a, uh, sort of welcome home – welcome back meal.” He relays, glancing at Noa anxiously out of the corner of his eye. She’s slumped in her seat. The only sign she’s even listening to him is the tiny hum she lets out. “I can tell them you’re too tired to do it today, though, if you’d like. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind pushing it back to tomorrow –“

“No, it’s fine.” Noa cuts across him quickly. “That’s really sweet of them.”

Charles nods. He thinks back to that morning; helping Lorenzo pin up the ‘welcome home’ banner above the archway leading from the kitchen to the living room; watching with a wistful smile as his mother set out a tray of paçoca, the little cylinders of peanut butter Noa used to love when they were younger, on the kitchen table. Where she managed to get hold of them Charles doesn’t know, considering they’re a sweet pretty much exclusive to Brazil. He tries not to think about how Noa will react to it all. The thought digs up old memories he'd rather stayed buried, for the sake of his heart.

“If you want you can get some sleep now. I know you’re probably jetlagged.” He speaks up again after a beat of silence, quieter this time, “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

Noa doesn’t reply for a moment. She’s still turned away from him ever so slightly, but as he glances to the side, he can see her expression reflected in the window. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, biting down hard from the looks of it. He doesn’t know if it’s his imagination, but her eyes appear glossy, brimming with unshed tears. There’s an ache in his heart that he’s not sure how to properly describe. Cathartic might be the only word close enough. It hurts, but at the same time, it’s almost freeing.

“If that’s ok with you.” She finally speaks, after what feels like an age. Her head turns to the side until she’s looking at him. Charles keeps his gaze on the road, but he can see her in his periphery.

“Of course.” He mumbles, a little hoarse. His heart is screaming at his head to turn, to smile at her, to show a little of the warmth they used to share for each other, in the wildest, most fanciful hope she may be reminded of it and find it in herself to forgive him there and then. In the end, he doesn’t turn. Instead, he hears the faint rustling of fabric on skin as Noa curls up a little to the side, leaning her head against the window. It falls silent again. Now Charles is the one with glossed over eyes, battling himself.

“Thank you.” Her voice, melodic as ever, cuts through the quiet. This time he does turn – but she’s not looking at him, already half asleep, eyes closed and fluttering ever so slightly underneath their lids. He watches her until he runs the risk of coming off the road. Charles knows she’s already asleep before he has the chance to say anything in reply.

Noa tends to have very vivid dreams. She remembers many a time closing her eyes and being greeted with an explosion of colour, scarlet race cars screaming down asphalt tracks, her flag: emerald, gold, deep blue, waving her across the finish line. A glinting trophy is thrust into her hands, and she lifts it high into the air, watching the crowd raise up their arms with her – a sea of red and yellow. But today, Noa closes her eyes and sees nothing but darkness. Charles is nudging her gently awake, it seems, less than a split second after falling into her slumber. Bleary-eyed, she sits up. The Leclerc house, her second home, sits gleaming in the frosty winter sunlight like a beacon. A thrill of excitement grips her heart. It’s been so long since she’s seen Pascale and Lorenzo – far, far too long. Her head turns, a half-smile on her face, to find Charles watching her. It falls. The sky seems to darken.

“You ready to go?” he asks. Noa nods solemnly, waiting for him to open the car door and climb out before sucking in a deep, shuddering breath. When she too steps out onto the pavement, her expression is steeled.

Charles is holding her bags in either of his hands. He gives her a look that, after years of knowing each other, she can interpret in an instant – Don’t even try it, I’m taking them in for you. She feels a small surge of gratefulness, but every positive emotion seems to be drowned out by her crushing nerves right now. Noa’s not exactly sure why she feels so nervous. These people are her second family, after all. Maybe it’s the nagging fear in the back of her mind that too much has changed; that things will never go back to the happy, perfect way they used to be.

The doorbell ringing brings her back the present. They’re stood on the front porch now, shoulder to shoulder, tense and stiff. Noa pulls at a loose thread on her joggers, focussing with absolute resolve on the door in front of her – paint peeling away ever so slightly at the edge. She knows if she brushed her fingers over it, they would come away dusted with white paint flakes. A second, maybe two passes. The door swings open.

All her nerves simply melt away as soon as she sees Pascale; arms already held out wide and motherly, eyes glistening with soon-to-be-shed tears, and the most genuine smile Noa has ever seen anyone wear. She looks only slightly older than she remembers. A few more wrinkles perhaps, a couple more grey hairs, but in essence, exactly the same. Constant. At least this much hasn’t changed.

“Ma fille!” My girl. Pascale gasps loudly. She’s rushing forwards, pulling Noa inside and engulfing her in a hug before she even knows what is happening – but the familiarity of it is so easy to melt into. The young woman rests her forehead briefly against her shoulder, suddenly unable to stop smiling, when before she’d been wondering how she would manage to fake one. Of course, she’s known all along how much she’s missed Pascale. The woman has been like a second mother to her for practically a decade. But being here now makes her realise the full force of the emotion. It feels like returning home after a long vacation, when all you want to do is sleep in the comfort of your own bed and relish in the sensation of being utterly safe. That’s how Pascale feels to Noa. Safe.

“Oh, look at you!” she gasps again, pulling away to place her hands on either of Noa’s cheeks. “You’ve grown so beautiful!”

In the two years it’s been since she last saw the Leclercs, Noa has blossomed. From a scrawny eighteen-year-old with skinny elbows and seemingly untameable curls, she’s truly grown into herself. Thanks to training, she’s attained the ‘athlete’s build’ she always craved as a teenager. Days spent soaking up the Brazilian sun on Ipanema beach have bronzed her skin, giving it an almost golden hue. Perhaps it’s the salt air, but even Noa’s unruly curls seem to have matured – instead of going frizzy in the heat and falling messily over her eyes, they now frame her tanned face perfectly. Honeyed streaks of blonde run all the way through to the ends. She looks different, she knows that. But it never hits her until she meets people again who have been absent from her life for years.

“Thank you.” Noa can’t help but giggle. Pascale merely holds her tighter, seemingly inspecting every inch of her face for anything else that may have changed. She can see the surprise and the elation in her eyes – but there’s sadness too, an odd mixture, as if she’s battling with regret. Noa supposes it’s to be expected. They went from seeing each other at least every month to all but no contact for two years. Pascale is as affected by it as she is.

As soon as Noa is released from her grip, she turns to face the other Leclerc brothers, who have been watching the whole time with fond smiles and wide eyes. She goes to Lorenzo first, since Arthur has already seen her fairly recently. The eldest of the brothers opens him arms to her gladly, and she steps straight into them. Lorenzo has always been like her protector. As the boys got older and, as boys tended to do, teased her or played too rough (case in point Arthur almost drowning her at the beach one time), he was always the one to give her a hug and scold them afterwards. With only little brothers (Charles didn’t count, as her best friend), Lorenzo was to her the older brother she never had but always found herself wishing for.

“Woah, how much have you grown? A foot?” he says, pulling away only slightly so her arms are still clasped around his back, and his come to rest on her shoulders. Noa giggles softly. It was a long standing joke that, even at eighteen, she barely rose to the height of Charles or Lorenzo’s shoulder. Miraculously, her long-awaited growth spurt arrived once most girls her age stopped growing entirely. Now she stands at a fairly respectable five foot six – though still short enough for Lorenzo to use her head as an arm rest, he quickly realises. Noa waves him away with a playful glare.

“Did he talk to you in the car? Or was it deathly silent?” he asks, not even needed to use Charles’ name for her to know exactly who he is talking about. His eyebrows raise as if he’s joking, but Noa can sense the hard edge of frustration in his voice. She smiles at him sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t know. I fell asleep.”

Lorenzo snorts. That’s all they say on the matter, because Arthur is soon weaselling his way in between them to give her a welcome hug. Apparently, a minute is far too long for his brother to spend with her whilst he’s stuck waiting on the sidelines.

Charles’ feet padding on the carpeted staircase draw Noa’s eyes unwillingly to him. She hadn’t even noticed him exit the room, too caught up in reunions and holding back tears to pay much attention to her surroundings. He’s taken her bags up to her room, he tells her. She merely nods in reply. The tension doesn’t remain for long – Pascale doesn’t let it. Soon enough, everyone is gathering in the kitchen, all proud, knowing smiles from the Leclercs and gasps from Noa as she catches sight of the ‘welcome home’ banner strung up across the archway. She’d known, of course, that they were planning something, thanks to Charles’ warning, but she didn’t expect something like this. They’ve brought another long, wooden table from God knows where into the room, placing it end to end with the main kitchen table to make more room for the spread set out across it. A white floral tablecloth covers the wood, and on top of it, tiered stands of seemingly all the food she could ever eat – fresh strawberries, watermelon, French cheese (which Noa had been introduced to by the Leclercs, and was shocked to find she actually loved), pineapple, even some chocolate and cupcakes (something she’ll later say is just a one off to her nutritionist), and finally, in the very centre, a bowl full of paçoca, her favourite childhood sweet. She remembers Charles calling her strange for essentially eating peanut butter on its own – but even today, it really is her one weakness.

“Oh, meu Deus.” Oh my God. She whispers. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, holding back the half-sob she can feel bubbling up in her throat. “This – this is too much. You really didn’t have to –“

“Noa.” It’s Arthur that cuts her off, rolling his eyes fondly, “Just let us do something nice for you. Call it a late birthday gift.” He adds with a smirk. Noa scoffs. A part of her had thought maybe they wouldn’t remember her birthday – of course, she was wrong about that.

“This is amazing.” She speaks up softly after a moment, “Thank you so much.” Her throat closes around the words ever-so-slightly, vision blurring, heart aching in the best way possible. Pascale moves forward to pull her body into hers, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“We missed you so much, petit ange.” She murmurs, “We’re just glad to have you back with us.”

I’m glad too, Noa thinks. She’s not naïve enough to believe it will all be smooth sailing from here; not as long as the pair of sad green eyes burning into her back remain. But this, she believes fully, this she can deal with. Reuniting with her second family has been a long time coming.

They eat like it’s the old times, bar Noa and Charles’ playful bickering (fallen flat, almost dead now). Pascale insists on piling her plate as high as possible, mumbling something about athlete’s diets being too sparse (or at least, that’s what she could make out with her questionable French vocabulary). Arthur doesn’t spare a thought before diving straight into the cupcake and chocolate stand, ignoring his mother’s protests about him letting their ‘guest’ choose first. Lorenzo opts for the fresh fruit more than the confectionary. Charles tries to resist the pull of sugar, better than Arthur admittedly, but his attempts are short lived. By any right, that amount of food should never disappear as quickly as it does – but before they know it, every last morsel is gone. Noa sits back in her seat, deep in conversation with Pascale about latest goings on in her family life, finding her eyes growing heavier with each passing second. Everything around her feels pleasantly hazy; comfortable. It’s the same way she feels sat at home with her parents and her brother after a good meal, lounged on the living room sofas watching cheesy Brazilian telenovelas. Like she’s safe to just be herself.

Pascale tells Lorenzo, Charles and Arthur to collect all the dirty plates and begin the washing up. They know that refusing isn’t an option, so it isn’t long before she and Noa are alone. It must be mid-afternoon by now, the Brazilian woman thinks, but her limbs are as heavy as if she’s stayed up all night and well into the morning – which, she supposes, technically she has. Pascale is observant enough to have already noticed, luckily for her. They’ve spent all of five minutes talking in the living room when she tells her to go up to her room and sleep off the jet lag.

“Oh, but –“ Noa is quick to interject, “I haven’t even asked how things are going for you yet.” She says guiltily. Pascale has been so fixated on catching up with every single moment of the last two years she has missed, that there hasn’t even been time to cover anything else. Noa is acutely aware that the last time they saw each other, it had only been a year since Hervé passed away. She knows as well as anybody that sometimes the people that look the most put-together are the ones who are struggling the most. She just wants to make certain that Pascale is doing ok – truly ok.

“I’ll still be here tomorrow.” The woman reassures her with a gentle chuckle. Noa’s concerned expression falls into a tired, but content smile. That’s the beauty of it – right now, they really do have all the time in the world to catch up. Until of course the new season begins. But three weeks before her soon-to-be packed schedule feels like a lifetime.

Noa retreats slowly upstairs, not so much as sparing a glance towards her unpacked bags, or even attempting to change out of her airport clothes before she collapses onto the bed, and almost immediately falls straight to sleep. The ease with which she already seems to have slipped back into life in the Leclerc house (which almost feels like home) is unexpected, but by no means unwelcome. She just hopes she’ll be able to carry that feeling of safety with her into the coming weeks, when undoubtedly, some difficult conversations will need to be had.

By the time the Leclerc brothers have finished the washing up – a difficult task, what with Charles and Arthur squabbling over who gets to dry the plates and who has to do the unpleasant job of actually washing them, whilst Lorenzo, serene as ever, allocates himself the task of sorting the various items of crockery away – Pascale is sat alone in the living room. She looks calm, quietly assured, but at the same time, they can sense a level of disappointment that wasn’t there before. Charles fears, before his mother’s gaze even turns in his direction, that that disappointment is meant for him.

“Où est allée Noa?” Where did Noa go? Lorenzo asks, taking the seat next to Pascale and looping his arm fondly around her shoulders. Arthur, not so delicately, throws himself face down on the long sofa facing the television, leaving Charles to occupy the lone arm chair on the other side of the room. It’s ironic, that he’s separated from his family that way, when he’s been feeling separated emotionally for far longer.

“A l'étage. Pour dormir.” Upstairs. To sleep. Pascale answers, soft-spoken as ever. Lorenzo nods, as Arthur flips his body around on the sofa so he’s no longer lying face down, but rather looking up towards the ceiling.

“Ah. Le décalage horaire?” Ah. Jet lag?

“Oui.”

Charles stays quiet. He knows full well his family are waiting for him to say something – maybe they’re not sure what, but then again, he isn’t either. Noa hasn’t spoken a single word to him. All of her attention has been directed towards his mum and her questions, or to his brothers and their playful teasing about how much she’s grown. That still doesn’t take away from the fact that he knows she’s doing it on purpose. Most of him doesn’t blame her, but there’s a small part in the back of his mind that feels almost…betrayed. It takes two to end a friendship, after all. Noa didn’t exactly attempt to salvage the wreck they’d made.

“Well I think that went pretty well.” Arthur speaks up first in French, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his stomach. Charles looks over, trying to catch his eye. He must sense it, but his gaze remains turned away. Another beat of silence passes.

“She’s quieter.” Lorenzo says thoughtfully. He’s right too. It’s not just in the way that she doesn’t talk half as much as she used to, it’s something in her demeanour as well. There used to be a spark in Noa’s eye that Charles would look towards whenever he needed cheering up. Now when he searches for it, there’s layers upon layers shrouding the once happy memory. Like he’s peering through thick fog, trying to make out a landscape he’s long since forgotten.

“Je ne suis pas surpris.” I’m not surprised. Arthur muses. All eyes turn to him, Lorenzo frowning, Pascale already prepared to question what exactly he means by that. Charles thinks he knows. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious isn’t it?” the youngest of the Leclercs scoffs, sitting up from his relaxed position on the sofa. His eyes are dark, frustrated, perhaps even angry. “First he takes her chance at being offered a Formula 1 seat – with Ferrari, her dream team.” Arthur begins, jabbing a harsh finger in Charles’ direction. He winces, “Then her mother almost dies, and she has to give up her career just to be with her. She’s a Senna Borges. Racing is in her blood. And we all know how hard she worked, just to fall short at the final hurdle – not even through her own fault.” He takes a pause to breathe, eyes now blazing. Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale sit watching in some kind of fascinated horror. It’s rare to see Arthur so worked up. He’s always been the kind of person that can make light of any situation, no matter how grim. But there’s something about Noa and the cruel hand she’s been dealt in life lately that makes his blood boil.

“Now she’s finally made it to Formula 1, where she deserves to be, but she’s also stuck with the person who ruined that dream for her the first time around.” He goes on, turning now to Charles, “Look, I don’t care about what happened between you two. There’s nothing you can do to change it now. But Noa is like a sister to me, and as long as you both refuse to talk to each other, we’re never going to feel like a family to her again. Like we used to.” Arthur speaks, almost alarmingly softly, his jaw clenched hard, “For once just stop being so selfish and look at this from someone else’s perspective. Preferably hers. You know you owe it to her after –“

“Arthur!” Pascale’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere like a knife, silencing her youngest son immediately, “Do not call your brother selfish. You don’t understand the full story – none of us do.”

That seems to bring him back to his senses. Everything falls silent, but also on the brink of chaos, teetering on a knife edge. Nobody except Lorenzo notices the faint tremor in Pascale’s hand, which he tries to quell by rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. Charles is sat, rigid back, white knuckles, in the arm chair, glaring at Arthur from across the room. Meanwhile the aforementioned blinks as if he’s just awakened from a trance.

"Je suis désolé." I’m sorry. He murmurs, “I don’t know what –“

“Maman’s right.” Charles cuts him off tersely, “You don’t know the full story. You don’t know the things I said to her that night, or the things she said to me…” he trails off, breathing shakily even at the memory of it, “But you’re also right. I took the opportunity of a lifetime from her. She has every right to be angry at me, every right to hate me. That’s why I’m trying to make this right – and believe me, Arthur, I am trying. It’s just…it’s hard.” Charles’ gaze drops to the ground, almost shamefully, “So much has changed.”

Guilt is the most overwhelming part of this whole mess. Even though much of the misfortune that Noa has endured in the past two years has been entirely unrelated to him, he still can’t help but feel partly responsible. Perhaps it was his actions, something at the time he considered to be a mercy, that began the snowball effect. Perhaps if he’d never accepted Ferrari’s call, even though he so desperately wanted it, everything would be as perfect as he remembers. There’s so much uncertainty it’s impossible to predict. But Charles knows, at least from his side of the story, ever since the moment Noa walked out of his life, it’s gradually been growing duller and duller and duller. In a sick sort of way, he half hopes it has been the same for her.

“You do know she could never hate you, right?” Arthur speaks up softly. Charles’ gaze lifts from the ground, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively, “Mon dieu you’re both so stubborn.” He laughs humourlessly, shaking his head, “Noa may act like she can’t even look at you right now, but I know her just as well as you do. Maybe even better now, if you can’t see it.” He arches an eyebrow, “She’s hurting, Charles. You know what she does when she’s hurting? She pushes the people she cares about the most away.”

Winter break, 2014, Charles thinks. Of course. How could he forget?

“I’m just saying,” Arthur goes on, “If you mess this up any more than you already have, then she will end up hating you. But I can see it. Right now, she doesn’t. Not even close.”

Later, Pascale says something to him of the same effect. Hurt can fester. There are only two ways that things can go from here, with them both being kept so close to each other for the first time in so long. Either it brings them closer together – they work through their differences, overcome the mountains that stand in their way, and emerge on the other side even stronger because of it. Or, they’ll push each other away.

“I know what I would do if I were you.” Pascale tells him solemnly, “But you two need to figure this out on your own.”

It’s easy to say that, Charles thinks, when you haven’t made the mistakes they’ve both made. It’s so easy to imagine himself explaining how he thought he’d be protecting her by not telling her Ferrari had approached him. In his mind, she’ll listen and understand, and everything will go back to the way it used to be. But every time he runs the words he might say to her through his mind, he draws a blank. What mere words can salvage the ruins of a near decade-long friendship? What words can do justice the longing he feels to have her back in his life, not just as a distant memory, a relative stranger, but as his best friend. And even if he could find the words, there’s no guarantee Noa will even listen to them. Despite everything, she seems set on keeping her distance. Maybe Charles doesn’t blame her. Or maybe he wishes she’d fight a little harder.

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[lilpixielixie]

CHAPTER ONE: Delicate | hwang hyunjin x fem! reader

"This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me"

- Delicate, Taylor Swift

Summary: Moving to Seul wasn't something that Selene expected to do, but her broken heart and tired soul were craving for peace. She didn't even think too much about it: she simply saw an opportunity that would let her hide from the media and Hollywood for some time and took it. However, she will have to make a decision by the end of the year and she hopes that, when the time comes, the same world that was hating on her right now would forget everything. Maybe she wasn't meant to be an actress, but she was sure she wasn't meant to be loved. At least, that was what she thought before meeting an idol who wasn't treating her like a broken and pitiful person.

Words: 1.2k

Genre: actress!reader x idol!hyunjin, SLOW BURN, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (minors dni)

Warnings: none for this chapter.

Author's note: This chapter is pretty short because it's a bit of an introduction to the story. There will be only Selene, the female reader, and there is a mention of another kpop group which will be part of this story as side characters. Before you read this, you need to check out Selene profile and the series masterlist for more info!

Series Masterlist | Selene Profile

End of February 2021

Next Chapter

“We didn’t expect an actual reply after all this time” the manager in front of Selene admitted while looking at her hesitantly “but your manager told us your…hospitalization was coming to an end and you would reach to us as soon as you were out”

The girl was playing with her ring nervously while keeping a tight smile on her face “Yes, I apologize for the wait, I couldn’t use my phone or have any contact with anything related to work while I was there” 

The woman looked at her in a weird way - she still couldn't understand if they were judging her or pitying her - but didn’t comment on that. 

“Well, as your manager has already told you, we wanted to ask you if you could be one of the choreographers of our new boy group which debuted some months ago” she said, scanning some papers she had in front of her on the desk. The other two men, sitting at each side of the manager, hadn’t said a single word since she entered the door of that cold and pretty minimalist room. For being the company of the most famous kpop group they really saved money on the furniture. 

“You were an exceptional dancer for such a young age and your dancing challenge on tiktok went viral for months, really innovative” she continued “for these boys we wanted to assign not only the choreographers we worked with for years and trust, but also someone closer to their age and with your kind of creativity”

“I’m happy to hear that” Selene said with a little nod “I’ve never choreographed for anyone before, even when I was pursuing my dancing career” she admitted “I haven’t danced professionally or being in this kind of industry for the past six years and I was really young when I stopped; what I’ve been doing on social media was just really random”

The woman gave her a little smile “We are aware of your current career status, Miss Corti, it’s kind of impossible not to know your name right now” 

Selene turned red with embarrassment, mainly because she knew that they weren’t talking about her acting achievements. 

“That’s because it was meant to be a failure from the very beginning” a little voice said in her head. 

“Listen, Miss Corti” the woman said with a heavy sigh “your influence on social media and on the entertainment industry has been without doubt really significant since your debut. You were a natural at dancing and probably if you hadn’t suffered such a serious injury things would have gone very differently. Even though we know you cannot dance like that again, you still have those skills and those videos you posted prove it”

The girl didn’t say anything, she just stared at those boys’ manager expressionless. She didn’t like to think about the “what if” or being reminded of a dream that would never come true. 

“We thought that having you in the boys’ team of choreographers would have been a plus and helped them to gain fans and fame even in the western market” she spoke matter-of-factly “your name precedes you”

“But?” Selene asked even though her manager had already told her some details about this job offer. 

The woman pursed her lips as if she didn’t want to address the big elephant in the room “What happened last year between you and…well, we don’t have to talk about it, it must be something you don’t want to be reminded of considering the fact that you were hospitalized for six months” she cleared her voice “but your actions made our company rethink of offering you this position, but at the end we decided that it wasn’t something that would-”

“-not ruin your image, at least, not too much” she interrupted her with a sarcastic tone. 

The manager didn’t appreciate it. 

“Yes” she confirmed it “that’s why we reached out while you were still recovering. However, you can understand that things changed now” she smiled even though it didn’t reach her eyes “we didn’t except for all of this” she indicated her phone “to happen; you can clearly understand that we cannot associated the names of the boys with yours now that you’re in the middle of a controversy and your reputation is experiencing a downfall” 

“I get it, but you decided to see me anyways today; so you must still want my precious skills and natural talent” Selene pointed out using her sarcastic tone again. 

The man on the left coughed uncomfortably, the one on the right chuckled a little. The woman stayed unfazed. 

“Your name won’t be put anywhere: you will work with the other choreographers and the boys as we said before, but you won’t receive any credits. You will have to keep a low profile and, of course, don’t talk about this to the media, on your social media or to anyone who could leak this to the media. We know you’ve decided to take a break from your acting career and your manager told us you’ve also decided to disappear from public eye for some time, so we think this arrangement makes both parts happy”

“We will pay you double and we also wanted to offer you a place located not too far away from the company. At the beginning, we wanted to see your acting schedule so we could discuss your staying based also on the boys’ schedule, but with your break there isn’t any problem and we can provide you a visa for the a whole year if you accept”

“Ok, for me that’s fine”

Those words shocked the three people who were sitting across the table ready to coax the actress into accepting their offer. The girl looked back at them confused:

“What?” 

“You…you accept?” the man on the left asked, talking for the first time since the beginning of the meeting. 

“Well, I think moving to the other side of the world and working without being under the spotlight is exactly what I need now”

They still seemed pretty confused by how fast she accepted. 

“I’ve been credited for too many things in the span of two weeks, I won’t die if my name doesn’t appear in any kind of Enhypen’s choreography” Selene admitted with a shrug “and I really want to get as far away as possible from London for now”

The woman smiled, happy to have achieved her goal “That’s perfect, you can start from next Monday when you will meet the boys, they are…” she continued to speak over excited while asking the other two men to hand her the contract. She started to explain every single detail of her new job, but her mind started to drift away. 

She was sure her manager would take care of it. 

The voices turned into background noises and she started to think over her situation. Maybe this was the right way to depart from the stage she’s been performing on for the past five years so she could go back being an unknown face to the whole world. Maybe everyone will forget about her eventually. Then, she could finally live the normal life she left behind just because she wanted to be someone she had soon realized she couldn’t bear to be. At least, not anymore. 

© lilpixielixie all rights reserved | do not copy, repost or translate this fic.

[0ur-diabolikal-rapture]

the past month or so has been really strange for me in terms of my current fixation/interest/idk the word for with toby stephens

In 2010 I studied jane eyre as part of my english class and my teacher made us watch the 2006 bbc adaptation with him and ruth wilson in it, and although I didn’t read the book cover to cover, I really loved the adaptation

In 2013 I went to see him perform in private lives in london. at the time I was really into the tv show the hour, and seeing anna chancellor being cast really made me want to see the show, and recognising toby from the promo material made me even more excited about going

after the show my friend at the time and I waited at stage door to try and meet anna, and we were lucky enough to meet the entire cast as it was literally just me and my friend waiting there. all of them were really great but toby in particular went out of his way to interact with us and was really sweet I’ll never forget it. the show itself was so funny and was definitely a highlight of the theatre trips I’d been on that year, and I’d even got clippings of interviews and other promo bits that anna and toby had done during that time too

and then in 2014, I’d always been obsessed with period dramas but I’d managed to watch north and south (2004) for the first time, which honestly changed my life it’s still one of my favourite things ever. and as a collector I’d obviously wanted to have it on dvd, so I opened up amazon and added it to my basket and I’m not sure why, maybe it was offered as a recommendation? or having watched a period drama it made me think of others I’d enjoyed? but I bought the dvd for jane eyre as well.

and since then, even through the many times I’d culled my dvd collection I always managed to keep those two even though I didn’t watch them, because I knew how much I’d enjoyed them in the past I couldn’t part with them

since around 2021 I’ve watched north and south maybe once a year maybe twice but I was still reluctant to rewatch jane eyre in case it wasn’t as good as I remember but finally in 2024, after a little period drama resurgence I rewatched it. and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. I wanted to rewatch it immediately, I’d completely forgotten how good it was all those years ago and I was so glad I’d chosen to watch it again

about a month ago now, I’d seen a edit on my twitter of toby for black sails, I didn’t even know the show existed I had no idea of the context or anything but I saw it and was so intrigued by it that I went out the same day and bought the entire boxset, I had no job and I really didn’t have the money to purchase it but I just had a good feeling about it. (for context: I don’t have wifi at my place so I buy dvds to watch things) but after a couple of episodes I was so happy that I got them and I knew it would be my new favourite show ever and I was obviously obsessed with flint

since finishing black sails I bought a few more dvds of toby’s work and I’m having such a good time and I genuinely don’t know why I didn’t do this after seeing private lives because that’s my usual pattern after seeing things that I really enjoyed. I really admire his craft and there’s just something about him I can’t really describe but I’m just a little fascinated at the moment

it’s just been a strange but interesting time for me having loved an actor’s work for such a long time, having met him such a long time ago and only now really exploring his work properly. I’m obviously having the best time but it feels so.. bittersweet? illogical? like I’ve missed out on a lot? life is strange…

but anyway I watched the tenant of wildfell hall today and baby toby holding a puppy healed me