#If y’all see me on tumblr YELL AT ME

[skyloftian-nutcase]

If the seasonal depression could stop making me just ✨exist✨ outside of work, that would be great. 👍🏻

[torisprlng]

anyone else having this prob on their app recently…just scrolling for about 15-30 min will kill 50% of my battery?? 😵‍💫

[kyluxtrashpit]

Gonna need everybody on here to take one for the team and start reblogging my posts at the same rate people on twitter do cause I’m gonna have a rage-induced heart attack within a month if I can’t find a way to reduce my time over there lmfao

[xinilia]

mood board for reacting to this art

xiao bday !!

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter three:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: drinking.

➴ word count: 4.2k

💌 from me to you: another chapter? clara, don’t you have better things to do with your life? yes guys i do but i spent my entire shift today thinking about publishing this chapter and just when i thought i shouldn’t because i don’t want you guys to get tired of me, tumblr sends me a notification that i’ve reached 250 reblogs today. so yes im taking this as a sign from the universe and im posting this today. also, angst? not here! we want madison and quinn to love each other and we want it NOW! (p.s sorry abt the word count. i got carried away)

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

CLUBBING IN Vancouver felt like a fever dream, especially with Jack Hughes.

It was already one a.m. and you and Jack were incredibly drunk, dancing around with Luke and laughing. All of you minus Quinn, who had ordered just one beer and was sitting at your table like he was fifty years old.

Fortunately, not many people had recognised you or the brothers, which was good. But if you were to be honest, getting recognised was the least of your problems. Getting extremely shit-faced was your ultimate goal that night.

“These songs are all so fucking lame,” you yelled over some country music, making Jack— who was apparently the biggest country music supporter ever— give you the finger. Luke laughed, sipping on his non-alcoholic drink. Getting Luke inside the club with a fake ID was already enough of a mess so there was no need for any more scandals.

You and Jack on the other hand were drinking for both of them.

“Go complain to them, then!” He yelled, probably kidding, but drunk you wasn’t exactly the sanest person ever.

So you walked until you were side by side with the DJ, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Hey! Play some fucking good music!”

“What?” She shouted, looking at you with her headphones still on. There were so many people dancing around you both that you had no choice but to glue your body to hers.

“Play something like Rihanna,” you yelled, grabbing her microphone and shouting. “Are y’all tired of this lame ass music too?”

People shouted, apparently agreeing with you.

You looked at her, raising your eyebrow and silently asking for her to change it. She shrugged, not really caring about the fact that you had just called her playlist “lame”, and changed into some other song.

Rihanna’s voice and the customers screams filled the place, making you scream too. You were really out of your mind because not drunk you would never want this much attention.

You walked until you were on top of someone’s table, climbing on it with the help of a random guy, dancing and singing along to Rihanna’s song, Only Girl.

You could faintly see Jack, Quinn and Luke at your table, Jack shouting your name while Luke used his phone to record it. Quinn looked like he was having the worst time of his life, but you were probably just seeing things.

“I want you to love me,” you sang, grabbing someone’s spoon to use as your mic. “Like I’m a hot ride,”

Some girls were singing along with you, and you smiled at them. The club was ringing with the heavy bass of the song, casting vibrant hues of pink and purple through the air.

Even if you were drunk, all of your moves were smooth and effortless, like you’d been born for this. You were having fun and for the first time not thinking of the consequences of your actions— which was probably a bad move.

You looked down, noticing that Luke stood in front of you, offering you his hand so you could get off the table, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.

“Hey,” he greeted, while you hugged his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Lukey,” you shouted over the music. “You’re so grown up now!”

“You’re so gone.” he laughed, putting his hands on your waist. “We need to go.”

He was absolutely right, you were very much gone. And you were a little tired, but it’d been so long since the last time you went out to dance that you didn’t really care about sleeping or going back to your hotel.

“Dance with me, Lukey,” you smirked. “We can go home after this song.”

He only nodded, moving his body with yours awkwardly, making you laugh really hard. You still loved them a lot, and they’d forever be in your heart, no matter how much time passed.

Someone grabbed your arm midway through going down to the floor, pulling you up. You frowned, looking up and watching Mr. No Fun scowling at you and Luke.

“I told you to come get her and you’re now dancing with her? Let’s go,” he hissed, pulling you with him, so close you could feel the warmth of his body against yours.

“I would love to know what the hell happened to you, because why are you an ass all the time?” You yelled, the need of making him as upset as you was bigger than your common sense. “Or maybe it’s just with me.”

“Be quiet, Madison,” he growled before handing Luke his card and asking him to pay the bill and fetch Jack on his way back, while he dragged you out of the club. “We’re leaving.”

“I can see that,” you scoffed, waving to some of the girls who were dancing with you earlier. “Of course it’d be you to ruin my night.”

“Ruin your night?” He stopped, turning around and staring at you. “You’re drunk, dancing in the middle of people you don’t even know, when you’re well known and when you know anyone could do anything to you.”

“You said know thrice,” you giggled, stopping yourself when you saw that his angry face was still there. “And I was dancing with Luke.”

“Yeah, after you danced on top of a fucking table with I don’t even know how many men around.” He snorted, resuming his walk and dragging you with him again.

“Why are you so angry?” You rolled your eyes. “Is it because you still see me as your little sister? Is that what’s happening here?”

He stares at you, gray-ish eyes making you shiver. Locking his jaw, he only shook his head and didn’t say anything else, making you angrier.

But before you could properly lash out on him, Luke and Jack were standing by Quinn’s side, ready to say their goodbyes.

“I would’ve stayed for way longer but you know, duty calls,” Jack smiled, words coming out of his mouth slurred and slow, hugging you weirdly because he was really drunk too.

“Come see us in Jersey. We miss you.” Luke said, hugging you sideways.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I’ll give you my jersey.”

You nodded, kissing them both on the cheek. “Be safe. You guys keep doing your great work. I’ll miss you.”

“Bye, bro,” they hugged Quinn and you were confused for two seconds before remembering that Quinn lived in Vancouver. “See you soon.”

Quinn hugged them back, asking Luke to drive safely and text when they got to their hotel. As you watched them go, you resumed walking too, removing your heels and reaching for your phone to call an Uber.

“Where are you going?” Quinn shouted behind you, and you didn’t look back when you answered “hotel!”. “You’re barefoot, it’s almost three a.m. and you’re alone in a city you don’t even know.”

“First of all, I was born here. And second of all, I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you replied, trying to see one phone at a time. “Why do I have two phones?” You mumbled.

“Madison, come on,” his steps were getting closer. “Let me drive you to your hotel.”

“I thought you were a hockey player, not a chauffeur,” you snorted, pretty sure that you spelled the French word wrongly. “Go home, Quinn.”

You felt a hand on your wrist, holding you. You stopped, staring at it before looking up and looking at Quinn’s angry face. “Madison. You’re drunk, and Vancouver isn’t as safe as they made it out to be.”

“Why are you so worried now, H-Hughes?” You raised your brow. “You were just fine ignoring me for the entire night. I don’t understand what changed.”

He sighed, running his hands through his beautiful, perfect hair. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve been an asshole this entire night but— it’s complicated. Just let me take you home, alright?”

You stared at him for a long time, watching as his frame sometimes doubled in quantity and two Quinn’s stood in front of you. Two Quinn Hughes would be a very pleasant sight, indeed.

“Why is it complicated?” You finally said.

“Madison, we’re not having this conversation tonight with you three sheets to the wind. Come on.” He said before pulling you again.

“I’m not leaving with you, and stop using hard words!” You shouted, removing yourself from his grip. “Good night.”

Turning around, you started walking again, one step at a time because apparently you had four left feet.

Only to feel your body being pulled and suddenly your feet were off the ground and you were in Quinn’s arms, with him carrying you bridal style, making you yelp.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Last time I saw you, you weren’t so dirty-mouthed.” he mumbled, his stubble scratching your temple.

“Last time you saw me I was fifteen. I am twenty-two now and very much allowed to say things like fuck.” You squirmed in his arms, tiring yourself even more. Quinn’s arms felt like they were made of iron. “I also fuck now.”

Oh you were so going to regret this.

He frowned. “I don’t want to know about that, Madison.”

“‘Course you don’t,” you mumbled, giving up and resting your head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to talk later.” He said, suddenly stopping and putting you down in front of a fancy black car. Probably his.

“About what? Me having sex?” You chuckled.

“No, God. Not that,” he dropped his key, bending over to pick it up. He opened the door for you and ordered: “Get in.”

“You’re actually pretty annoying.” You mumbled, but did what he said anyway. You were starting to feel sleepy and bickering with Quinn seemed uninteresting now.

Even though it was funny to watch him scowl.

His car’s seat was cold but he turned the heat on as soon as he started the car. He got out of the parking spot and started driving around Vancouver’s almost deserted streets.

You sighed, resting your head against the window and getting comfortable. Even though you were still upset with Quinn and even though you were pretty sure he also was upset with you, there was just something comforting about being around him. You loved it a lot, and hadn’t realized you’d missed it this much.

“Which hotel are you in?” He asked after a while, and you didn’t even open your eyes to answer.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Fancy and big, looks like a shoe b-box, but I don’t know the name of i-it.”

“How do you not know the name of the hotel you’re staying at?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, making you smile sleepily. “How were you even going to call an Uber, then?”

“You ask too many questions, Quinn,” you answered, before lulling yourself into a deep sleep.

You didn’t get to sleep for a long time, because soon you had Quinn opening the door and almost making you fall out of the car. “Oh, sorry. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

You were amazed by the fact that he’d manage to find out in which hotel you were staying in even without you saying anything, and you found yourself smiling, remembering how you admired him as a kid, when he’d always have the answers to your questions.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked you, placing his hands on your lower back.

“Nothing.” You answered but you weren’t exactly sure if the word had come out right.

Either way you heard his quiet laugh, before taking your heels and purse— that you didn’t even remember you had— out of his car and locking it. He guided you through the small path, stopping in front of the big door and unlocking it.

Funny, this hotel looks a lot different than the one you’d checked in but maybe they’d finally upgraded your room.

“How did you get them to give me a better room?” You asked, looking around.

The room looked a lot like a house to be honest, it even had an open kitchen and a living room.

“What do you mean?” He asked, turning around and looking at you, apparently confused.

“When I checked-in earlier they— they,” you hiccupped, wanting nothing more than a bed. “They gave me a very shitty bedroom and I had to take a cold s-shower because the heater was broken.”

“We’re not at your hotel,” he rolled his eyes. “We’re at my house. I don’t know where your hotel is and I don’t have time to drive around until you remember its name so you’ll sleep here tonight.”

If you weren’t so drunk and ready to sleep for the next century, you might’ve put on a fight. But all you managed to do was walk around the living room and say “Okay, sleep well.” Before laying down on his big, fluffy couch.

“What— Jesus,” he echoed, grabbing your hand. “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I have a spare room.”

He walked you to another spacious room, gently helping you sit on the bed.

“Can you wait here for a second? I’ll go and grab something for you to wear. You’re probably uncomfortable with that… thing,” he said, pointing to your dress and leaving the room, not waiting for your answer.

Not that you would’ve given him one anyway, you were too distracted trying not to sleep. It was a hard job.

He didn’t take long, coming back with a plaid shirt and some blue shorts that looked ginormous. “This probably won’t fit you but it’s fine, it’s just for tonight.”

He placed them on the bed, helping you get up and stand on your feet. He turned you around, unzipping your dress and helping you get out of it. Then, he made you face him again, only that he wasn’t really looking at you. His head was down, his eyes on the floor, and you caught yourself smiling with how cute and respectful Quinn’s always been.

You changed into his clothes taking ten minutes more than you usually would, especially with how you are so used to changing fast during runways, but your limbs were heavy and you were on your final straw.

“This doesn’t fit,” you mumbled, watching as you tried to tie the shorts’ lace around your waist and failing miserably, just for it to fall at your feet, leaving you with just his shirt and your panties. “Quinn. It doesn’t fit.”

“I can see that, Madison,” he chuckled, finally looking you in the eye again. “Go to bed. Tomorrow we will find something else.”

You shrugged, getting on the tip of your toes and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “Night, Quinny.”

You didn’t watch his reaction, heading to bed immediately and passing out before you even got to hear his answer.

౨ৎ

maddiecarter_updates

liked by cherylwilliams, lucaspotter, melanieg_12 and 12,013 others

maddiecarter_updates Looong night for our girl Mads! She was seen by fans in Vancouver at a night club with Jack, Quinn and Luke Hughes, and some locals said they saw her leaving the club with Quinn Hughes (@_quinnhughes)! We hoped she enjoyed herself! 😊

View all 129 comments

user1 who r these fine men lmfao

maddiecarter_updates user1 They’re NHL players, Quinn plays for the Vancouver Canucks and both Luke and Jack play for the NJ Devils. 🙂

user2 lowkey wish she’d grab my ass too :/

user3 Aren’t they the guys she grew up with? I might be wrong though..

maddiecarter_updates user3 Madison never confirmed nor denied these rumours. The nature of her relationship with the Hughes is still unknown and we must respect that :)

user4 SHE’s SO FINEEEEEE

user5 HUGGY BEAR LOOKING SO DAMN FINE THATS MY CAPTAIN

user6 watch puck bunnies start dragging her in 3. 2. 1….

౨ৎ

WAKING UP the next morning felt like running an entire marathon barefoot and naked, after eating a whole bunch of junk food and drinking two gallons of milk.

In other words, it’d been hard.

It felt like you were emerging from a foggy, oppressive haze. Your eyelids were heavy, struggling to open, and when you finally managed to open them, the light from the window felt painfully bright, stabbing your temple.

Your mouth feels like sandpaper and the lingering taste of alcohol sits on your tongue. Every sound, even the gentle rustle of sheets, seems amplified, reverberating in your throbbing head. A dull, relentless ache pulses behind your eyes, making it hard to focus on anything.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, trying to wet your lips with your tongue. “What the hell…”

Your body feels heavy, sluggish, and as you slowly sit up the whole room starts spinning slightly. A wave of nausea hits you, a queasy reminder of the night before. Your stomach churns, and there's an unsettling sensation in your gut, as if everything is on the edge of tipping over. You rub your face, feeling the sweat and the grogginess, struggling to remember what happened, but the memories come in disjointed flashes.

“Oh my God.”

You were mortified with your own actions. Dancing on top of a table? Grabbing the DJ’s ass? Talking with Quinn about your sex life?

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to throw up.

You got up, looking around, trying to recognise the room you were in. It didn’t have much decoration in it, just a plain wallpaper and a big bed with two nightstands. There was a door to the left which you opened, finding a small bathroom with a shower, a sink and a toilet.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you actually gasped. Your hair was all over the place, your makeup smudged and Quinn’s shirt had fallen off and your boobs were almost out.

“I need a shower,” you mumbled, getting out of your panties and Quinn’s shirt, turning the shower on. Your head was still pounding and it only got worse when you remembered that you were away from Bella and that you’d have to move to Vancouver in less than two weeks.

Even if you wanted to say no to La Vie en Rose’s deal so bad, you didn’t want to do that with Nicholas. He was a great person, and a great friend too, and you knew he had the purest of intentions. And it would only be for six months.

You scrubbed your body with the liquid soap, feeling the hot water worsening your headache but you weren’t the type of person who enjoyed cold showers.

Ten minutes later, the quickest shower of your life, you stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, looking for a towel inside the cabinets. After you found one, you wrapped your body around it and dried yourself while walking back to the bedroom.

You found a new change of clothes on the bed and a new pair of boxers, chuckling with how Quinn must have looked when he placed these things on your bed.

Oh, right. Quinn. You were at his house.

Thinking of what you’d even say to him, you put on the clothes he left for you, not wearing the shorts again. The shirt covered the boxers anyway.

You left the bedroom, walking around the house until you finally found the kitchen, reading the clock before you stared at Quinn. 7:34a.m.

“How did I wake up this early?” You asked, sitting on a stool and watching as he turned around and smiled at you.

His smile was still the same, just a little bit different. He looked tired, but his eyes still held that softness you adored so much.

“Morning to you,” he says, handing you a cup of coffee. “Your body’s probably still used to your usual routine. It’s normal.”

“That’s bullshit,” you groaned. “I feel like I’m about to die.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

You raised your brow at him, watched as he leaned against the counter and stared right back at you. Usually, you’d feel self conscious and nervous, but Quinn looked at you with tenderness, with delicacy. He made you feel safe without even doing anything, even if you were still supposedly mad at each other.

Which reminded you of something.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t mad at you, Madison.”

“You keep calling me that,” you pointed out. “I don’t remember everything that happened last night, but I do remember how upset you were with me, and how you didn’t even look at me for too long. Only when you were frowning.”

“Madison—”

“I get that you’re mad at me because I never talked to you again, or visited you in the US or when I didn’t congratulate you when you got drafted but—” you sighed, running your hands through your hair, frustrated. “You have no right to be upset.”

You watched as he looked at you, incredulous. “I have no right to be upset?” He cocked his head, wavy hair falling freely to the side. “Wanna tell me why?”

“Well, for starters, the phone works both ways,” you pointed out. “And also, you never came back for me either. So we’re even.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed but you could see that he wasn’t thinking that what you were saying was actually funny. “Madison, tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not!” You raised your arms, regretting immediately because your body still hurt. “Why would I joke about that?”

“Because I went to your house.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to tell you he was the one who was joking. Only that he stayed quiet, waiting for you to realize he was being serious.

“What the hell, Quinn? What do you mean?”

“After I called you several times and you didn’t pick up, I went to your parents’ house in Toronto, back in 2018,” he gestured with his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “I told your mom I was in town and I needed to see you, but she told me you were in Los Angeles, training to be a model, whatever that means.”

“I only moved to LA when I turned eighteen,” you frowned, confused. “And I never got any of your calls, not once. So I never called you because I thought— I don’t know, I thought you had gotten tired of me.”

“Why would you even think that?” He asked, voice filled with distress. “Madison, you were my best friend.”

“You were surrounded by gorgeous, beautiful girls who were your age and in the pictures you looked like you were having fun with them, so—”

“I would trade them all for you, Maddie. And you know that.”

You didn’t know which part of his statement hurt you the most. Him calling you by the nickname he gave you for the first time in years or the fact that you knew he was telling the truth.

“I know,” you whispered, choosing to look at the cup in front of you. “Maybe that’s exactly why I didn’t call or text you. You deserved better than some stupid fifteen year old who thought love could change the world.” You laughed, humorlessly.

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” he complained. “You weren’t stupid. And I’m sorry for all this mess.”

You looked up, frowning. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. My mom lied to you about me moving and she probably blocked your number on my phone.”

“Either way, I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. I just… seeing you after all these years and listening to you talking about Los Angeles like it was heaven on Earth when you hadn’t visited me or my family in a long time made me go crazy, ” he chuckles.

“Well, now we’re both sorry,” you mumbled, drinking the rest of the lukewarm coffee in one go. “What do we do now?”

“We can try keeping in touch with each other even when you’re back in LA,” he suggests, moving his body around the kitchen. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going back to LA. At least not any time soon.”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“Got a job with a Canadian brand and I have to stay here for the next six months.”

“Stay here as in live here?” He asked, lips curling up. You nodded. “Oh.”

“Yup.”

“You don’t seem too excited.”

“I don’t really love the idea of living in the same city as my mom,” you mumbled, drawing invisible patterns with your fingers on the marble surface. “But I’ve been looking forward to working with them for a long time now.”

You heard Quinn’s steps, and next thing you know he was beside you, resting his elbows on the counter and looking at you with fond, blue eyes. “Don’t let people ruin what’s great for you, Maddie. No one should be more important than your dreams.”

You looked at him, smiling shyly. You didn’t really know how to act around him now that you were both in peace. And you still didn’t know what to do with your heart whenever it beat faster inside of you because of Quinn.

“Thanks, Quinn,” you sighed, getting off the stool. “I’ll go back to my hotel now. I’ll sleep before I decide what I need to do with my life.”

“A good nap is a good nap,” he nods. Then, scratching the back of his neck, he softly adds: “You can nap here if you want. I’ll head to the gym with my team but you’re free to stay.”

You can feel the blush adorning your face and you let out a fake cough, trying to get it back to normal.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

He chuckles and stares at you for a while, looking like he was in the middle of a battle with his thoughts. At the end, you’d have to thank whoever won inside of his head, because he walked until he was standing not even an inch away from you and kissed you on your forehead, soft lips making you shiver.

“No need to hurry. I like having you around.”

Oh, boy. This was going to be difficult.

taglist: @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @hischierswhore 🤎

[alizayildiz]

Announcement: I don’t know who sent me a request bc it was anonymous but girl if you see this I misse posting too. But my exams are over and I’m back on posting regularly. I have to write a few requests on Wattpad and I’ll upload them on tumblr too!

This one is especially made for you!

Summary: Kenan’s thinks you can’t come to watch his important football game due to both of y’all’s schedules. However you manage to surprise him.

„Miss Yildiz, what a beautiful surprise that you showed up" Coach Montella spoke as he pulled me into a hug.

I don't know since when but it's gotten into a habit that everyone calls me by Kenan's last name. Not that I mind it, I quite enjoy it and to be honest Kenan does too.

Yildiz.

"Well, I try my best to support you guys" I speak as Coach Montella and I walk towards the VIP Lounge of the Allianz Stadium in Berlin.

After the Turkish National Team won 3:1 against Georgia they now play against Czechia. Normally they would play against Portugal but something came up with them and now it's Turkey vs. Czechia.

And normally I would be in New York City right now having a photos shoot for Victoria's Secret. A massive brand with a good name.

But I decided to reschedule the photo shoot. It costed me many nerves and phone calls to reschedule it but in the end I managed to do so.

I wanted to support Kenan through this entire European championship and that didn't work from the beginning on.

Because I missed the opening match against Georgia, he even scored a goal. So now I try my best to make up for it.

Kenan has always been my biggest supporter at everything you do in life. So it's only fair that I'm his biggest supporter too.

As Coach Montella talks me through the details of  today's match I can't get my mind of the fact that Kenan's ex girlfriend Karlotta will be here too.

I absolutely despise that girl not only for what she has done to Kenan but also for that she has done to me.

„So five minutes before the game ends security will walke up with you to the pitch, is that alright ?" Montella speaks looking at me for an answer.

„Absolutely, yes, thank you" I speak smiling at Kenan's coach before the man leaves.

As I walk around the VIP lounge I make myself comfortable, one hour until the game stars and two hours till the game ends.

My outfit was simple but yet elegant, knowing that Kenan prefers if I walk around more elegantly than slutty.

After plugging my phone into the charger I open my Spotify playlist, good thing that these VIP boxes are sound proof.

Not so sound proof when Kenan fucks me in here though...

Opening the refrigerator I pull out a redbull and wash myself some fruits like strawberries and cranberries.

After placing them nicely on a plate I walk to the couch and let myself fall on it.

Gosh, sitting feels good.

I grab my iPad from my handbag and start to work online.

~

As planned I got done with everything I had on my to do list for today.

As I stood up I looked down at the pitch, the Turkish National team singing their national anthem.

Kenan was the tallest player in the team, he was also starting in the first eleven lineup. After finishing singing they positioned them for team pictures.

In the first one Kenan had the post serious face ever, probably because he thinks I'm in New York and not here at his game.

The second picture turned out more motivated, still his smile dropped instantly as the cameras got away from his face.

The Czech people took their time with their national anthem as well as with taking pictures.

While Kenan positioned himself on the pitch the Czech players waved as fans.

Kenan made a quick prayer and so did Arda and Hakan.

All three of them praying for good luck on the match.

During their prayers the commentators of the match called up the line up from both teams. First Czechia then Turkey.

I looked at the big screen and let a a high pitched yell as I saw Kenan's name on it. The stadium loosing it too as soon as they saw him.

Kenan looked up to the VIP box where I was sitting every few minutes, before and during the match.

It's like he knows I'm here. I know that he possibly can't even see me from down there but my gut feeling tells me he does.

Kenan has this gift to spot me whenever I am, he just feels my presence.

As the referee whistled the first half of the game started. Clearly Turkey had more dominance.

In minute 25 Bariș Alper Yilmaz scored.

Two minutes later Kenan scored.

The stadium went loud fans jumped up and down yelling his name. Kenan held up both his hand and then placed on his heart. Dedicating his goal to the Turkish fans.

Clapping both of my hands together I smile down at the football field.

With that Kenan breaks Cristiano Ronaldo his record. What a great success he achieved for his career.

I pull out my phone making photos of the remarkable moment.

Then seven minutes after Kenan scored Arda scores.

3:0 it stands.

Turkish fans are going wild while Czech fans are watching their team loose.

Coach Montella jumps up exited and kisses each of the three guys on their heads, hugging each of them.

Fifteen more minutes pass and then the first half ends. 3:0 for Turkey.

~

"Miss Yildiz, it's time to head to the field" the security guard spoke as he pulled me out of my thoughts.

I sept half break arguing with Karlotta and how she should just leave me and Kenan alone because she and he are in the PAST.

But what if they aren't, and he just lies to me ?

I gather myself following the security guard.

4:0 for Turkey, Hakan scored a goal in the second half which is about to end in exactly five minutes.

As we passed trough different VIP boxes and different hallways I finally was on the pitch.

Behind the barrier but close enough.

And like always it didn't even took Kenan more than thirty seconds to spot me.

He was on the other end of the field and immediately came up running towards me.

The referee had whistled a minute ago so the match was over.

As the cameras focussed on Kenan running towards you fans and commentators applauded at the two of you.

Kenan was not wearing his jersey anymore he pulled it off himself as a form of celebration, so did the rest of the Turkish national team.

Jumping over the barrier he pulled you into his arms giving you thousands of kisses on your forehead.

"Kenan" I chuckled between laughs.

"Did you watch the whole match ?" He asks out of breath.

"Yes Baby, and I'm beyond proud of you" with that Kenan pulls you into a kiss.

I didn't care if he tastes like sweat or even smells like it I just wanted to feels his lips against mine.

The fans going crazy loud even congratulating Kenan on pulling such a beautiful girl like you.

Kenan he let go of you.

"I love you, that's the best surprise you could ever do for me" not even letting me time to respond he crashed his lips on mine again, depending the kiss.

One of his hands had a firm grip on my jaw while his other hand travelled down to my lower back.

Totally worth rescheduling my photoshoot.

Fans were busy taking photos of the two of you and so were you and Kenan.

He's the biggest golden retriever boyfriend ever so he absolutely adores posing for pictures with you.

As he gave you a kiss on your forehead you closed your eyes enjoying the moment.

What a luck that your camera went off in that exact minute. The most wholesome picture ever of the two of you just got made by your phone.

A jealous Karlotta standing in the crowd, eyeing the two of you.

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 5: Fracture

You and Joel try to find a balance in your relationship in Los Angeles. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Very mild violence. Masturbation. Description of porn. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 14.3k (IDFK what my problem is)

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey, Big Miller!” Tanya yelled toward her living room, wine glass clutched precariously in her grasp.

“Shhh!” You clamped your hand over Tanya’s mouth as she practically cackled. “Will you cool it?” 

She shoved you away playfully. 

“We need a camera man,” she said. “And I don’t think he’s busy.” 

“Can’t we ask one of your security guards?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t think they’re busy, either.” 

“Yes but my security guards aren’t eye candy,” she replied, almost smug. “And they’re in the guard shack. So the obvious choice is… Oh, hello Big Miller.” 

Tanya winked at you and you turned to find a surly Joel standing in her massive kitchen, his arms crossed and a fed up look on his face. 

“Can I help you.” 

“Yes, actually,” she practically flounced over to him. “We are making a TikTok…” 

“No,” Joel said. 

“Oh, come on,” she waved him off. “You’re no fun!” 

“Ain’t paid to be fun,” Joel said. “Now if you two aren’t running off somewhere crazy, think I’ll get back to…” 

“We just need a camera man,” Tanya said, putting a hand in the middle of his back and guiding him further into her kitchen. “All you have to do is press record, hold the phone and press stop.” 

Joel looked to you like he was asking for an out and, given the new, strangely kind balance to your relationship, you wished you could give him one. 

But… you did need a camera man. 

“Ellie wanted us to make a video,” you said and Joel sighed and held out his hand for Tanya’s phone, just like you knew he would as soon as you mentioned your niece. 

Tanya squealed and clapped for a moment before walking him through what she wanted him to do. 

“Alright,” he sighed as Tanya took her place next to you. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Joel was a surprisingly good sport about the whole thing, stopping and starting the recording again and again as you and Tanya swapped places and did ridiculous looking dances and you couldn’t help but laugh when you were supposed to be standing still as your friend did her part. 

“Thank you, Big Miller,” Tanya said, taking the phone back when the two of you couldn’t think of any other stupid dances to do. “We appreciate your contribution to our art.” 

“Something tells me that isn’t going to win either of y’all one of those fancy trophies,” he said before looking to you. “Should leave soon. You’ve got early shit tomorrow.” 

“So bossy,” Tanya winked at him. Joel rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, he’s like that,” you smiled at him a little. “But we have to let him control what he can otherwise he gets grumpy.” 

“Well I guess we do have to let the men be men occasionally,” she smiled at him again before looking to you. “Do I get to see you again this trip or no?” 

“Probably not,” you said, scrunching your nose at that. “I’ve got more chemistry reads tomorrow morning, Kimmel in the afternoon, meetings in the evening, premiere the next day, flying home the day after that.” 

“Ugh, home in Texas,” she made a face. “LA is way better.” 

“I’m sorry, which of us has been on tour for the better part of a year?” You teased. “Not like you’re here for me to hang out with anyway.” 

“Hey, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” she elbowed you lightly and you laughed before you both sighed. “I’m going to miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” you smiled a little. “You can always come visit in Texas, you know.” 

“Might take you up on that,” she smiled back.

Tanya loaded you down with two dozen cookies before you left and you couldn’t help but smile a little as Joel drove the two of you back to your house. 

“Thank you,” you said, looking over at him in the glow of the street lights. “For the TikTok thing, I mean.” 

“Not the end of the world,” Joel shrugged. “Don’t understand it for shit but…” 

You smiled a little and opened the cookie tin, holding it out to Joel, who glanced at it as he drove. 

“C’mon,” you shook the tin at him, making the cookies inside rattle. “You know you want one.” 

“Can’t believe you just go over to some pop star’s house to bake cookies,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing one, taking a bite and chewing for a moment. “And they’re fuckin’ good, too, that’s even worse…” 

You just smirked, closing the tin with a satisfying snap, looking out the window as Joel drove you home. 

It had been a strange few days since the lunch with Henry. You’d been busy - which you had expected, cramming weeks worth of meetings and outings into just a few days - and Joel had been a surprisingly comfortable companion for the whole of it. 

He sat there, watching stoically from the corner as you read lines with the actors vying to be the romantic lead in Savage Starlight. He didn’t complain about the swarms of paparazzi and fans when you went to do interviews. He even kept whatever complaints he had to himself when you went for a fitting for your dress for the premiere and your stylist, Frank, dragged him in to get feedback from a man on the fit of your bodice. 

“What was your name again, I’m sorry,” Frank asked as he stood there with his hands on your sides. 

He sighed. 

“Joel.” 

“Joel,” Frank said. “Right. Well, Joel, since I’m pretty sure you’re straight given -“ he gestured toward Joel as a whole “- that, what do you think? Should we have it sit here…” 

“Frank,” you said, half pleading, half knowing it was a lost cause. “Please leave him out of this…” 

“Honey, if you won’t listen to me, listen to him,” he said, adjusting the bodice and turning his attention back to Joel. “Do you want to fuck her more with it here?” 

He adjusted it again, making it so your breasts were higher, more ample. You sighed. 

“Or here?” He said, looking at Joel. “Be honest.” 

Joel’s eyes darted to you, wide and almost afraid. 

“I… uh…” 

“He doesn’t want to fuck me at all, Frank,” you said, rolling your eyes, your hands on your hips. 

He rolled his back.

“Please, everyone wants to fuck you.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Yeah, that’s because I want to fuck him,” he jerked his head toward Joel.

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to tell Bill that,” you teased, barely holding back a smirk. “Tell him you’re out here…” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“…checking out bodyguards…” 

“Please don’t.” 

“…causing problems…” 

“Do you really think that paranoid old man could cope if he knew I was hanging out with that walking wet dream?” Frank asked, brows raised. “Please. For both our sakes, save me the fight and keep it to yourself and you,” he rounded on Joel. “Tell her the truth, that you want to fuck her more when the girls are higher.” 

“Can you promise me I won’t have a nip slip on the red carpet if you shove my boobs up to the sky?” You said before Joel had a chance to stumble his way through another response. “Because Quinn might kill me if I do.”

“Do you really think I’d let that happen?” He asked, brows raised. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll put some pasties on the girls, that way if your tits find some way to defy the laws of physics - which, if anyone’s could, it’s yours - you’re not really flashing the whole world.” 

“Very considerate,” you said wryly, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “Then sure, put my tits under my chin if that will bring you joy.” 

“You’re my favorite client for a reason,” he said, going about pinning the dress into place and you bit back a smile as Joel stood there, his hands in his pockets as he stared determinedly off to the side his eyes darting back your way every half minute or so. 

Joel had even been a pleasant presence at home. You’d FaceTimed Ellie the night before while you sat at your kitchen island with a glass of wine, just nodding along and listening to her talk about her day, trying not to dwell too much on the little mannerisms she had that reminded you of Anna. Joel came in - you weren’t sure why, his hand running absently over the granite counter before rapping his knuckles on it and Ellie spotted him then, perking up even more when she did. 

“Hey, Big Miller!” She called in a sing-songy voice. 

Joel came up behind you, tall and broad at your back, leaning down to get in the frame of the camera of your iPad. 

“Hey Trouble,” he said, teasing Ellie with her own code name. “Been keeping your nose clean for your grandmother? Behaving for Seth?” 

“No,” she smirked. “But remember that one debate I had coming up?” 

“I do.” 

“Well, I did it,” she said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “And I won.” 

“You did?” He asked, pride in his voice. Ellie nodded eagerly. “Knew you could, that smart mouth of yours.” 

“I kicked his ass,” she said happily. 

“Was it that one kid?” Joel asked. “The asshole?”

“Yup,” Ellie beamed. “And I made him look like a fucking idiot.” 

“Ellie!” You scolded. 

“Sorry, Sissy,” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Joel. “Freaking idiot.”

Joel snorted. 

“Good for you, kiddo,” he said. “Knew you could do it.” 

Once you finished up the call with Ellie, you went and found Joel. He’d taken to spending time by the pool since the night he’d found you there. Sometimes he had a book, sometimes he just watched the water, his hands folded between his knees looking like he was lost in thought. He was there then, too, watching the water this time with a bottle of beer at his feet. 

“Hey,” you said, knowing better than to approach him silently. 

He looked back over his shoulder to you. 

“Hey,” he said before looking back at the water. 

You came and sat next to him, watching the light ripple in silence for a moment. 

“Think Ellie misses you,” you said, glancing to him as you did. He just grunted. “It sounds like she talks with you…” 

“We got time when I take her to school,” Joel said, almost defensively. 

“I know,” you said quickly, gently. “I just… I appreciate it. You being nice to her, I mean.” 

“Oh,” he said. 

“She needs that,” you continued. “Her dad was never in her life, it was always just her mom, Elise and me and now… She needs as many people as she can to care about her. She’s been through a lot. I’m glad she has someone else she can talk to like that.” 

“She’s a good kid,” Joel said, staring at the water. “Don’t mind.” 

You nodded silently. 

“Puns are awful though,” he said after a moment, smiling ever so slightly. 

You laughed. 

“God, they really are,” you said. “She has a book of them.”

He looked at you then. 

“Who the hell’s idea was that?” He asked. 

You laughed again. 

“She picked it up at school a few years ago, one of those book fair things. I think she memorized it.” 

“Jesus,” Joel laughed and then sighed. “Guess we’ll never be free of ‘em.” 

“No,” you smiled a little. “Guess we won’t.” 

It had become a strange balance. Not quite friends, not quite… whatever you’d been before. Some odd middle ground where you cared what he thought and found a disorienting comfort in his presence without the kindness of any affection. 

Your phone lit up, a link from Tanya. You followed it and watched the video on TikTok, posted for not even five minutes and already thousands of likes. You smiled at it, the look on your own face as you tried not to laugh at your friend’s ridiculous dance moves and your own clumsy, erratic movements when it was your turn funnier than you’d realized. 

“That the video?” Joel asked as you sat at a red light. 

“Yeah,” you said, holding the phone out to him just as it looped. He watched for a moment, an almost serious expression on his face before it seemed like he was biting back a smile, shaking his head a little. You laughed. “You liked it!” 

“I don’t really get it,” he said, giving you a look before the light turned green and he started driving again. “But… yeah, alright, it was kinda funny. Didn’t think you celebrities really did that kind of shit, though.” 

“Why not?” You asked, going to repost the video on your own feed and texting Quinn to tell her that you had so she wasn’t caught off guard by it. 

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just… seems like it’s beneath you.” 

You frowned a little. 

“You do realize we’re just people, right?” You said. “We just happen to do jobs that make us famous.” 

“I know,” Joel said. “Still. Feels weird.” 

You laughed a little at that. Yeah, fame was weird. 

“Ellie seen the video yet?” He asked, glancing your way quickly. 

“She’d better be in bed,” you said. “It’s almost 2 a.m. in Texas. But I’ll send it to her in the morning.” 

“She do one, too?” Joel asked. 

“She did,” you said, smiling a little and going to Ellie’s TikTok - which you’d insisted be locked down to hell and back so paparazzi couldn’t take advantage of it - and pulling up the video. Joel parked in your driveway and you handed him your phone, pressing play for him and watched as he smiled a little as Ellie and her friend Dina did different crazy dances in a classroom at school to the same song you had. 

“Looks like she’s makin’ friends,” Joel said, giving you back your phone. He didn’t wait for a response, getting out of the car. You sat and waited patiently for him to come to your side of the car - a safety protocol that felt excessive but you went with it - before getting out yourself. “That’s good. Can be hard for kids that age now, especially at a new school.” 

“Yeah,” you said, frowning slightly at him and biting your tongue. How would he know about kids that age? You weren’t sure of his exact age but you were pretty sure he was a few years older than you and it’s not like he had kids. 

“Driver’ll be here early,” he said once you were both safely inside and you set the cookies down in the kitchen. “Any itinerary changes I should know about?” 

“Nope,” you said. “Just going to be a busy day for me with a lot of sitting around for you. Might want to bring your book.” 

“Be sure to keep myself entertained,” he said wryly, opening the tin and getting out another cookie.

You smiled. 

“Goodnight, Big Miller.” 

“Night, Siren.” 

You brought a bag with you the next day. 

You’d done enough shit like this in your time - days where you had to run from place to place at almost breakneck speed, places where you knew you’d be photographed to hell and back and others where you had some semblance of privacy and you knew you’d be desperate for some comfort - that you knew how to plan for it. 

Joel sat up front with the driver, leaving you in the back seat alone and you sent the TikTok to Ellie, telling her you hoped she had a good day at school and that you were excited to see her in a few days. You took a few minutes to review the lines you were working with that day, making sure you were comfortable with the ones you’d be reading with the kids. You always remembered your first line readings with grown ups once you were actually old enough to fully understand what was going on, how some made you feel at ease and some made your stomach churn and skin crawl. You always wanted to be the comfortable person for these kids. You hadn’t worked with many children in adulthood but it always felt strange when you did, some twinge in you that made it seem like you were watching your younger self but not able to stop what was coming.

“Doomed by the narrative,” you muttered to yourself, skimming the lines of the girl who would play your childhood self.  

“Hm?” Joel said back over his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” you said, locking the iPad as the car pulled up to the studio gate. “Just running lines.” 

There were four kids you were reading with but one that you’d been told was the favorite and she was reading last. 

All the kids were talented, you’d give them that. Of course, they had to be to make it this far. They were all 10 to 12 years old, all excited to be there, all somewhat accustomed to this life already. But you posed for pictures with them anyway - the photos going on their agents’ phones so they couldn’t post them before they were allowed to - and performed your lines in all the different ways the casting director asked. 

Eventually, the last girl came in, a sense of nervous, almost frantic energy pouring off of her, something that seemed so far away but so familiar from your childhood. 

“Can I see her resume?” You asked the casting director quietly as the production assistant went over things with the girl. 

“Sure,” she said, rifling through a small pile before handing it over. You reviewed it quickly and found what you expected - some commercial work, a three episode arc on a sitcom, no film. She was just 12 years old and new to this. You slid the resume back and went over to the girl who, you had to admit, looked a lot like you.

She was staring at you, her eyes a little wide and you tried not to laugh. Instead, you smiled and held out your hand, introducing yourself. 

“Yeah,” she said, a little awed. “I know.” 

“Thought you might,” you smiled a little wider. “What’s your name?” 

“Catherine,” she said. “Catherine Ford.” 

“It’s nice to meet you Catherine,” you said. “Want to run some lines with me, see how we do?” 

She nodded quickly and you showed her where to stand in front of the camera that was capturing your line reads for the director to watch later. 

“Let’s go from from the top,” the casting director said, giving you a nod. “Get us started.” 

You just nodded and found the character quickly, falling into her headspace, making your eyes meet the girl who was yourself. 

“Who are you?” You asked, a panicky edge to your voice. 

“Don’t you know?” She asked in response, cocking her head slightly to match your own. “I’m you.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you’re not real, you…” 

“I am,” she said, all calm and wise. “I’m you and I know that you… I… crud…” 

Her face scrunched and she looked down to the paper in her hands. 

“Keep going,” the casting director said to you. “Lead her in.” 

You nodded, taking a moment to reset and looking at Catherine.

“That’s not possible,” you said again. “You’re not real, you…” 

“Don’t you know?” She said and then her face fell. “Crap, I’m sorry!” 

“It’s OK,” you smiled gently. “Want to go again?” 

“Is that OK?” She asked. You just nodded and she sighed. “OK, cool. I’ll get it this time!” 

“From ‘that’s not possible,’ please,” the casting director said and you obeyed, but Catherine missed her cue to cut in that time, freezing in the moment and then looking like she was about to cry. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I promise, I know my lines, I was up so late practicing, I won’t mess up like this if you actually cast me, I…” 

The casting director got up but you held out a hand, keeping her where she was. 

“Catherine?” You cut her off before she had a full blown panic attack. “It’s OK. Did you warm up before you came in today?” 

“No,” she sniffled a little. “No, I should have, and…” 

“Hey, I’m not criticizing you,” you smiled gently. “Even if you had, it’s probably been long enough since you left your house that it wouldn’t make a difference now anyway. Why don’t we take a minute, warm up, then try again. Sound good?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.” 

“OK,” you said. “Any warm ups you really like?” 

“Um,” she thought for a second. “To sit in solemn silence? Do you know that one?” 

You smiled a little wider. 

“Good pick,” you said. “One of my favorites. Want to start or do you want me to?” 

“Can you?” She asked. “I never have to…” 

“Of course,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Ready? To sit in solemn silence on a dull, dark dock…” 

You did a few warm ups with her, helping her loosen up and get relaxed before you got set to go again, tension coming back into her small shoulders as she got set for the next try. 

“Hey,” you said gently. Her eyes met yours. “It’s OK. Just you and me, two actors doing our thing, OK?” 

She smiled a little at that. 

“OK.” 

She seemed to take that to heart, hitting every word that time, the two of you falling into that rare space where you felt truly connected, that you were inhabiting these characters, building tension, pulling these feelings from each other and laying them bare. It was a space that was hard to find, you couldn’t do it with every actor, and this 12-year-old girl had managed it. 

The room was silent for a moment when the scene wrapped but then the casting director clapped, you and Catherine both turning to look at her, Catherine beaming. 

“Beautiful,” she said. “That was great, really really great.” 

The two of you did a few other scenes, Catherine finding her groove more and more each time and you couldn’t help but marvel at her talent. She had raw skill that many of your contemporaries would kill for, skill that she’d only hone over time. She was going to be an incredible actor if this industry didn’t destroy her first. 

“Who brought you here today?” You asked Catherine when the read was over, the casting director already talking conspiratorially with her assistant. 

“My mom,” she said. “She’s in the waiting room.” 

“Can I meet her?” You asked. 

“Yeah!” She said eagerly. “She’d love that!” 

 You flagged Joel down from his spot in the corner and followed her there, her mom jumping up when she saw her come through the door. 

“Hey kiddo!” She said excitedly, hugging her daughter. “How’d it go?” 

She noticed you then, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m…” 

“I know,” she cut you off, her eyes still wide but going somehow wider. “Oh my God, that was probably so rude, I’m sorry!” 

You laughed. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “Honestly, if it didn’t make me feel like such a self-centered jerk, my life would probably be a lot easier if I just assumed everyone knew who I was. You’re Catherine’s mom?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Margie.” 

“Hi Margie,” you said. “It’s good to meet you. Catherine is really incredible, you know.” 

“I know,” Margie said, tugging her daughter against her side and giving her a squeeze. “Trust me, we wouldn’t even be trying this if she wasn’t. She just begged and begged for years and eventually it was so obvious she was so good that we should at least give it a shot.” 

Catherine beamed at that and you smiled, the familiar pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you swallowed as you did. Her mother seemed nothing like your own. 

“I took a look at her resume, looks like you’re pretty new?” You asked and Margie nodded. “Well, getting started is hard, there’s a lot to navigate. Can I see your phone?” 

She all but dove into her pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. 

You entered your number, saving it with your first name and last initial. 

“Don’t share that around,” you said, giving Margie her phone back. “But if you need anything - anything at all - give me a call or a text. Alright?” 

“We gotta go,” Joel said quietly behind you. “Cutting it close.” 

You just nodded before turning to Catherine. 

“It was really great working with you today,” you smiled. 

“You too,” she said, smiling hugely. 

“Looking forward to doing it again soon,” you said, giving her a hug and a wave before going back to the audition room. Your bag was in the corner and you grabbed it before going to the casting director. 

“I want Catherine,” you said, already going through your bag for your makeup kit. 

“She was very strong,” she replied. “But she had the shaky start and…” 

“No,” you said, cutting her off. “She’s it. No one else came close. Not trying to tell you how to do your job but it’s Catherine. She’s just green but she’s young, she’ll get used to it quick. Trust me.” 

She considered you for a moment. 

“Alright,” she sighed eventually. “She was the top pick going into today but if we need to recast because she can’t hack it…” 

“We won’t,” you said. “I’ll make sure she’s got what she needs.” 

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll confirm with the director but we’ll get her.” 

You got changed into something far less comfortable than the leggings and sweatshirt you’d been wearing but looked way better for TV - Frank putting together a pair of velvet wide-legged trousers and matching jacket with a mesh turtleneck - and did your makeup and hair as quickly as you could before rushing to the car, Joel on high alert any time you were outside. 

“You were good with her,” he said once you were safely underway. 

“Hm?” 

“The girl,” Joel said, his voice gruff. “You were good with her. She was nervous, I could tell.” 

“Oh,” you said, watching the back of his head in front of you, as if that would tell you anything about what he was thinking. “Yeah. I just remember what it was like to audition like that. It’s lot of pressure.” 

“Can’t imagine doin’ that to a kid,” he said harshly. “Should get to just be a kid.” 

“There’s a reason I don’t want Ellie growing up here,” you said, looking out the window at the city going by. “Don’t want her getting any ideas.” 

The car pulled up to the theater, a hoard of people outside the doors waiting for you. 

“Ready?” Joel asked over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting yours, something about the depth of his gaze making it impossible to look away. 

“Ready,” you said. 

He got out first and he tried to rush you through the crowd but you saw a little girl who had to be about seven or eight - wearing a t-shirt with the duck you’d voiced years ago, when Ellie was about her age - watching you with hopeful eyes. 

“Hi there,” you smiled, getting down on her level. “What’s your name?”

“Parker,” she said, smiling hugely, one of her front teeth missing. 

“Hi Parker,” you smiled back. “It’s so nice to meet you! I really like your shirt.” 

“It’s my favorite movie!” She said excitedly. 

“You have excellent taste,” you said with a wink. You nodded to the piece of paper clutched to her chest. “What do you have there?” 

Her face lit up for a moment and she thrust the paper at you. 

“It’s my drawing!” She said. “I did it myself!” 

You took it and looked down at it, a childish, colored pencil version of the duck you’d played there on the page. 

“Parker, this is so good!” You said, smiling at her. “You’re such a good artist! Is that what you’re in school for right now? Art? What college do you go to?” 

“I don’t go to college!” She laughed. 

“You don’t!” You gasped in mock surprise. “What! How old are you? 20? 21?” 

“I’m seven!” She beamed. 

“Oh, my goodness,” you said, looking back at the paper. “You were such a good artist and so grown up I figured you were much older.” 

You gave her the paper back

“Can you sign it for me?” She asked, holding it out with a pen. 

“Well, the artist is usually the one to sign their work,” you said. “But… I’ll sign it if you do, too.” 

She beamed at that and you let her use your back to sign her name on her drawing before passing it off to you. You signed it, too, and gave it back before taking a selfie with her mom’s phone. 

“Alright,” Joel said when you stood up again, his face drawn tight, his hand on the middle of your back. “Let’s get you inside, fuckin’ sitting ducks out here.” 

“Oh, we’re fine,” you waved him off, going back to the crowd and taking selfies and signing autographs as you worked your way into the theater. 

“You like trying to give me a damn heart attack?” He asked once you were inside. 

“Everyone needs a hobby,” you said wryly as Quinn rushed over to you with a production assistant at her back. “Should try getting one yourself, you know.” 

“Jesus,” he muttered, rolling his eyes but following you to the greenroom all the same. 

Quinn reviewed the final topics for the interview and you said hi to Jimmy before getting ready to go on stage and put on a show. 

Doing interviews like this one still felt odd to you. Not because they were unusual - you’d gotten used to the talk show circuit by this point in your career - but because of their very nature. The illusion of some intimate conversation between friends on display for the few hundred strangers in the same room and then broadcast for all the world to see. 

You’d crafted a version of yourself for times like this, one that was built to appeal to an audience and seem genuine and real, some artificial sheen to wrap yourself up in that you slipped into like any other character. This one, though, grated on you. The strange dishonesty of it, the character you were playing yourself instead of the creation of someone else.

The interview went along like any other for a while, the two of you bantering back and forth and you sharing funny stories from set that sounded off the cuff but were actually carefully rehearsed to make sure you and your costars’ stories aligned. 

“Speaking of Chris,” Jimmy said as your time was running down and the audience was quieting after another bout of laughter. “I do have to talk about one thing with him.” 

“Just one?” You teased and he laughed. 

“Well, plenty,” he said. “But did you know that you and Chris are going viral?” 

“No,” you laughed. “But I’m sure my publicist does and she’s thrilled. What are we going viral for?” 

“There was a moment in an interview this week,” Jimmy said. “I think we have it…” 

The screen behind you changed and the moment from the junket days earlier played, you and Chris sitting side by side as he started on his rant, one that you’d thought would never see the light of day. 

“First of all, my costar here is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the single most talented actor I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with so you will treat her with the respect she’s due…”

You sat there, cheeks getting hot, pressing your fingers into your thigh, nervous energy making your stomach turn as you watched Chris lay into the reporter. You’d hoped that this clip had been squashed by his publicist, that the reporter honing in on one of your lowest points wouldn’t be put out for all the world to consume. Apparently not.

“That’s all it takes to go viral now, eh?” You joked as the video ended. Jimmy chuckled lightly but no one in the audience laughed. 

“You’ve got to admit, that was a pretty great moment,” he said. “But I was wondering what you thought of it.” 

“I think Chris has a way with words that I can’t quite match,” you smiled a small but tight smile. “And I think if I say anything different, he might go off on me next.” 

That did get some laughs and you laughed with the audience, hoping that you looked playful and fun, not tense and ready to crawl out of your skin. 

“Well we don’t want that,” Jimmy laughed. “Thanks so much for coming on and everyone, go see As We Know It, out Friday!” 

You waved your goodbyes and looked stage right, oddly comforted by Joel’s commanding presence there, his face firm as he watched you. You walked right for him as you left the stage, one of his arms going around you as you came alongside him, something grounding in his touch as he ushered you away. 

“You’re OK,” he said quietly, guiding you toward the door you came in. 

You frowned and looked at him, Joel glancing your way as you did.

“You’re stressed,” he said. “I can tell. I’ve got you.” 

You did a more abbreviated run of the crush of fans this time, stopping for a few selfies and signing a few pictures, but not lingering, instead moving as quickly as you could for the car without looking like you were rushing. 

Joel didn’t get in the front seat this time, instead climbing in back with you. You frowned as he did but he just ordered the driver to start toward the restaurant where you were meeting with producers. 

“You alright?” Joel asked after the car was out of sight from the crowd outside the theater, his eyes oddly soft and open. “That was shitty, them springin’ that on you.” 

“It happens,” you said, looking back at him as intently as he seemed to be looking at you. “I should be used to it. I am usually, but…” 

“Shouldn’t need to be,” he said. “They should act better.” 

You watched him for a moment, trying to puzzle him out but couldn’t see past his stern face with the strangely open eyes. You didn’t understand him. You weren’t sure you ever would. 

“I’ll be fine,” you said when you’d been quiet a little too long. “But thank you.” 

He frowned. 

“For what.” 

“Caring,” you shrugged. “Not many people do. But I’m afraid I need you to look out that window for a minute.” 

His frown deepened. 

“I need to change,” you said. “Shouldn’t be photographed in the same thing this many times so look out that way, please.” 

His jaw quirked but he obeyed, shaking his head a little as he did. 

“Shouldn’t be photographed at all,” he muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest as you got a pair of black leather pants out of your bag and set them on the seat between you and Joel.

“Probably right,” you said, shrugging out of the jacket and adjusting yourself so you could slide your pants down and off, leaving you just in the mesh top. “But comes with the territory.” 

You dropped the clothes you’d shed beside you, the velvet of the fabric brushing Joel’s arm and he glanced toward you - just a reaction, you told yourself - before he jerked his head back to look out the window again. 

“Oh don’t act like half the planet hasn’t seen me half naked,” you rolled your eyes as you got into the leather pants, a task that was easier said than done in the back seat of an SUV. “I promise, I won’t bite.” 

“Right,” he muttered. 

You got the pants into place and pulled out another jacket, draping it over your shoulders and putting the other clothes away. 

“You’re safe, Big Miller,” your teased, tossing the bag in the trunk. 

“Try to make a habit of not seeing my clients naked,” Joel muttered, settling back into his seat. 

“Sounds boring,” you said. 

He gave you a look and you laughed. 

“Don’t worry,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you’re at risk of anyone thinking you’re interested in fucking me. You’re safe.” 

He just grunted and you smiled a little, looking out the window. There was something comfortable when he was like this. You weren’t sure what to do with a Joel who didn’t seem to loathe you, at least a little bit. Even though you wanted him to like you. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you did.

The paparazzi were waiting for you outside the restaurant, too, but you’d been expecting that. Quinn had told them you’d be here and you made sure your pants were actually zipped before getting out and putting on the show you always did, smiling and waving, taking selfies with fans who’d heard you were going to be there, too. 

You kept the show on through dinner, talking with the producers of a period piece you were interested in doing, Joel sitting next to you the entire time, his jaw quirking when Leo joined the table, too. 

But Henry didn’t make a surprise appearance and, after a while, you found yourself relaxing into things, a few too many glasses of wine deep and giggling when you left the restaurant. 

“You got what you need for the premiere?” Quinn asked as you made your way to the door. 

“Frank has a vision,” you said dramatically and Quinn snorted. “Don’t worry, my tits are basically hanging out, the press will love it.” 

“Well I’ll see you there,” she said, kissing you on each cheek. “Need Frank to have a vision for me one of these days.” 

“Call him,” you said eagerly. “I’m sure he’d work his magic! Oh, we could go somewhere matching, that would be fun!” 

“OK, you’re drunk,” Quinn laughed and looked to Joel. “She’s drunk. Make sure she gets out of here safely and doesn’t talk to any of the paps outside?” 

“I’m not drunk!” You protested and Quinn laughed, taking the lapels of your jacket in your hands. 

“You’re drunk,” she said. “And that’s OK, you’ve been doing a lot lately, you deserve to have a little fun. Just don’t make more work for me in the morning when you do. See you tomorrow at the premiere.” 

“The premiere!” You said and she laughed, giving you and Joel a final wave. You turned to Joel. “We know what I’m wearing for the premiere, what are you wearing for the premiere?” 

“No one cares what I wear for shit,” Joel said, nudging you toward the door. “C’mon, driver’s pulling up.” 

“Why wouldn’t they care?” You pouted, looking over your shoulder toward him. “You’re a good looking man, you know.” 

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head. 

“What?” You said. “You are! I’m not trying to hit on you but that’s just an objective fact. Even Frank said so.” 

The flashes caught you off guard. You’d forgotten, for a moment, that it seemed like half the planet cared that you’d had dinner here. You smiled and waved and Joel kept you walking straight toward the car, keeping you from stopping and talking to the people screaming your name. 

“That felt rude,” you said once you were in the car and things were quiet again. 

“Too bad,” Joel said, in back beside you again. “Don’t need to be talkin’ to those assholes, anyway.” 

“There were some fans in there, too, I think,” you said, settling down into your seat. “But back to what I was saying.” 

“No,” Joel said simply. “Seatbelt.” 

“What?” You frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?” 

“I mean, put your seatbelt on,” he said.  

Your frown deepened and you looked around yourself for a moment before Joel made an irritated sound and reached over you, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it into place. 

“OK,” you said, adjusting it and sitting up a little straighter. “Seatbelt’s on. Why can’t we keep talking about it? I’m just saying, you should take the compliment…” 

“Not interested,” Joel said. 

“Oh will you calm down?” You rolled your eyes. “I promise I’m not trying to get you into bed, you’re safe from my scary Siren claws, I just mean if you dress well tomorrow at the premiere people would notice because you’re  a good looking person, that’s all.” 

“It don’t matter because I’m not gonna be seen with you,” Joel said, his voice stern. “I’ll be on the other side of where press and shit are but the carpet will be you, some assistant and that Chris guy. Don’t matter what I’m wearing or how good I do or don’t look, alright? Jesus…” 

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “You really let them talk you into that? I’m shocked.” 

“The premiere’s got it’s own security and it’s actually damn good,” Joel said. “Not good enough for me to just stay home but you’ll be alright. Don’t need me in any more goddamn photos with you than there already are.” 

You watched him for a moment. 

“You still don’t like me, do you?” You asked. 

He frowned, looking at you. 

“Why’s it matter.” 

“I didn’t say it did,” you shrugged. “You just don’t like me.” 

“Don’t need to like you,” he said. “Just need to keep you alive. Besides, the whole damn planet likes you, ain’t that enough?” 

You scoffed. 

“No they don’t.” 

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “What d’you call that shit, the hundreds of people waiting for fucking hours just to catch a glimpse of you if it’s not like.” 

“They don’t like me,” you said. “They don’t know me. They’re obsessed with a commodity. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a weird combination of every part I’ve ever played, every passing idea they’ve decided to assign to me, some idealized creation that doesn’t exist but they’re convinced is real. You know me, at least a little, and you don’t like me.”

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m right,” you said, your stomach twisting at that. You shouldn’t care what Joel thought of you but you did. There were so few people on this planet who knew you - actually knew you - and he was one of them. And he didn’t see something in you worth liking. 

The car pulled up to your driveway and Joel got out first, going around and opening your door. 

“C’mon,” he said, offering you his hand. “Like you or not, you got an early day.” 

You took his hand - large and warm and secure - and slipped down to the ground, tottering on your heels enough that it made you laugh, Joel steadying you as you went.

“I trust you to actually get yourself to bed?” Joel asked as he led you inside. 

You scoffed. 

“Where else am I gonna go?” 

“Sure you’d find some way to get into trouble,” he replied wryly. 

“I’ll go to bed,” you rolled your eyes. “See you in the morning Big Miller.” 

***

Joel watched you head down the hall, weaving a little as you walked before disappearing into your room, trying not to think about the way the fucking leather pants hugged your ass or the way your hips moved when you walked. 

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself, stalking off to the kitchen to get a water. 

You just don’t like me. 

Lord, how he wished that were true. 

He liked you alright. Far more than he should. Enough that the entire planet’s fucking obsession with you was starting to make sense. 

He tried not to think about that. 

Liking you was not a good idea. It was a completely horrible idea, actually. He wanted to go back to how he felt before he’d come here. It seemed like so long ago now, before he knew about your mom and Elise and Anna, before what you’d told him - and clearly hadn’t - about that fucking producer, before he saw you laughing with a friend or making kids smile just because you could. He wanted to go back to before you were a person - a real person, one with fears and wants and hurts - instead of some rich asshole he could pretend was a different species from himself. 

It wasn’t a good idea to care about you. He had to protect you, he couldn’t be distracted by things like your fucking feelings. Caring about you was dangerous. 

He opened the fridge and went to grab a bottle of water but, instead, took one of the beers that was sitting there. Not that drinking right now was a good idea, either, but fuck it. 

Joel brought the beer to the pool and sat on the edge of it, the glow of your bedroom light almost tempting. The curtain covered the window but he could make out the silhouette of you through the glass and gauzy fabric. You must not have a shirt on, the outline of your breasts clear in the hazy, warm light. He watched for a moment as the outline of you pulled on some baggy piece of fabric, covering yourself, and he forced himself to look back at the water. 

He wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t. 

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought about it the day before, too. 

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought he might break his fucking jaw from clenching it as he watched you with the actors during the audition shit the day before. 

You with these men all made for the screen, designed to be your fucking equal in a way he never could be even if he tried - which he wouldn’t because it didn’t matter. They read lines with you and he watched as you looked at them with adoration, touched them with some kind of longing, pressed your body to theirs, arching around them to fit yourself to them like you belonged there. Because you did belong there. If not with these men in particular then with a man like them. Not a man like him.

Not that it mattered. It didn’t fucking matter. 

No, he wasn’t going to think about those things. He wasn’t going to think about the way your tits looked in that fucking dress that Frank had asked his opinion on. He wasn’t going to think about glancing over at you in the car today when he knew he fucking shouldn’t have and seeing you there, half naked in your fucking see through shirt, your thighs looking so warm and welcoming and fucking soft. 

He wasn’t. 

He’d thought about it the night before. He wasn’t proud of that but he had, the image of you getting fitted for the damn dress at the forefront of his mind. It was like his head was a scratched record, skipping over that point in time again and again and again. 

He tried to think about anything else as he stood in the shower that night but fucking couldn’t, his cock half hard as he tried to shove the memory of you away. 

When he went to bed, he caved to his baser instincts. He decided to jerk off. Just to get it out of his system because he couldn’t be still stuck on this the next morning and he didn’t think he could sleep with his balls swollen and aching as they were. 

He tried looking at porn but he couldn’t figure out what the fuck he wanted to watch. He was absently scrolling through a site, nothing standing out until something caught his eye. Your name, on a video. 

He stared at it for a second, your name followed by EVERY SEX SCENE - COMPILATION. 

His mouth went dry. His cock was painfully hard. 

Could he watch that? It’s not like it was really wrong - it wasn’t something that had been shared without your permission and it wasn’t actual porn. It was just something he could see if he went on Netflix right now and sought it out. 

But you hadn’t made it so fucking assholes like him could jerk off to it. And it wasn’t like you were a stranger now, he knew you. Could he do that? 

His dick throbbed at the thought. 

Could he stop himself? 

Joel clicked on the video, his stomach twisting as he pressed play. There was an ad and he read the comments while it played. 

She’s so fucking hot. 

Bet she moans like a whore in real life. 

Fuck I want to choke her out.

She was hotter before, she hit the wall when she hit 30. 

The sound of you moaning in his headphones grabbed his attention, dulling the violent anger that swelling in him when he read what other people said about you. Joel took a shaky breath and made the video full screen. He was already this far down the rabbit hole, he may as well fully commit.

The first chunk of excerpts were from the movie you won the Oscar for and he could only stomach a few seconds of it. You looked disturbingly young to him, just a teenager with a softer version of your face getting on her knees, starting to take off her shirt making him jump ahead. He jumped again when it just felt too strange, watching you start to get undressed or turn around when you were obviously shirtless - seeing your skin this way feeling too keenly wrong. 

It was the last scene in the video that he found himself watching in earnest. It was something more recent, you looked almost the same as you did now, none of the childish softness to your face that had been there in the first scenes. It was a romantic scene, one that was carefully shot so the viewer saw nothing illicit. The curve of your bare waist, the edge of the swell of your breast, a hint of your ass. 

But Joel liked it this way, this moment not tinged with the wrongness the others were. You moaned as your on screen lover pushed inside you - or mimicked it, Joel corrected himself - your fingers spreading wide over the man’s back. 

Joel took his cock in his hand, swallowing hard, his heart beating fast. He worked himself slowly as he watched as the man on screen explored your body, close up shots that revealed nothing interspersed with your face as you gasped in pleasure. 

He let himself get lost in that, in the sounds you made, stroking himself harder, faster. He wanted to make you make those sounds. He wanted to press his lips to the delicate skin of your throat and kiss and lick and suck as he sank inside of you. He wanted his hands to run over the softness of you, to press his firm chest to your plush one and feel your heart beat through your skin. He wanted to feel you swallow him whole, his body slotting into yours as he made you come. 

You moaned and gasped on the video and he let himself pretend that it was for him and he came, imagining it was you and not his own fucking hand he was buried inside as rope after rope of his come spilled over his skin. 

His cheeks got hot as he closed the video and cleaned himself up, a pile of tissues on his nightstand the only sign of his indiscretion. 

He tried to clear his mind as he settled in to sleep, reminding himself of what he already knew: You were not meant for something like him. It didn’t matter what he wanted, you were for someone better than him. You needed someone beautiful like you, someone with money and power and purpose. You deserved someone like you. And he needed to get past that, at least enough that he could do his fucking job and keep you safe. That was all he was good for now. He knew that. 

He tried to remind himself of that again as he sat by the edge of the pool, his mind lingering on you, on your striking beauty and disquieting kindness and keen talent. 

He took a sip of beer. 

It didn’t matter, he told himself. None of it mattered. 

That was the truth of it. Even if you were his equal - even if he was rich and famous or you were just some waitress or school teacher or something besides the most famous woman on earth - it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like he could do anything about it, anyway. 

About a year after he lost Sarah, he’d tried dating. It hadn’t been his idea but Tommy had set him up with a friend of a friend and it hadn’t gone well. Not because she wasn’t a good woman - she was. She was kind, smart, beautiful. 

But it didn’t seem to matter what Joel did, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to really care for her. He liked her well enough. Enjoyed her company and enjoyed her body but any real affection seemed far away. He’d broken it off before things would need to get too serious, just the thought of getting any further involved making his chest get tight and his head swim. He wasn’t meant for things like that anymore. 

He’d left humanity behind when his daughter had. Anything like love and care was closed to him now, he knew that. 

So why did he keep thinking about you? 

He downed the rest of the beer and sighed before getting up, looking toward your window. He watched the outline of you pull back the blankets and climb into your bed before stretching and turning out the lamp. 

He just shook his head and went inside, putting the bottle in the recycling bin before heading to his own room, trying not to think of you lying on the other side of the wall. 

It didn’t make a difference. You were still in his dreams that night. 

You were standing opposite him like you had the men you’d read lines with but, instead of the comfortable clothes you’d worn to the audition, you were in the mesh top you’d had on that day. Just that and your panties, like you’d been in the back seat of the car. 

“Ready?” You asked, your eyes meeting his and he actually let himself look into them now, and how soft and deep they were. You didn’t wait for his response. “I’ll read you in.” 

Your body changed, the physicality of you shifting as you became someone else inside your skin. 

“What are you so afraid of?” You asked, almost forcefully. 

Joel knew his line. He’d heard it enough the day before. 

“You!” He said. “I’m afraid of you, of this power you have… I can’t protect you, I can’t…” 

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you cut him off, stepping closer. “I need you to trust me.” 

You were close enough that you were touching him. 

He knew this part, too, but he didn’t stick to his lines. 

“But I need to protect you,” he said. “It’s all I know how to do, I… I can’t…” 

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes meeting his, your body arching against his own and he could feel every line of you through his clothes. You moved to kiss him and he went to meet you but you stopped just short, your breath warm on his skin. 

“Why didn’t you protect me, Joel?” You whispered, your lips brushed his as you spoke. 

He frowned, pulling back ever so slightly. 

This wasn’t in the script. 

“You should have saved me,” you said, stepping back from him. 

Suddenly, he was somewhere new with you. The middle of the road, a burning car to one side of you. You stepped back from him again, cradling your arm to your chest, blood spreading quickly over your skin from a wound at your stomach. 

“No,” he reached for you, but you stepped back. Your ankle was at an odd angle, making you limp. “No, this isn’t…” 

“You should have been there,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “You should have saved me. Why didn’t you save me, Joel?” 

“I…” he began but you collapsed then and he jumped to catch you, pulling your body tight to his chest, panting for breath. “No, no, no, you’re OK, it’s alright, you’re gonna be OK, you hear me?” 

“No,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I won’t. Because you didn’t save me.” 

He woke with a start, ready to jump between you and any unseen threat. His chest was tight so he could barely breathe, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat. 

It took him a moment to remember where he was, in a bed that was his but wasn’t, in a foreign land that wasn’t really so different from his own. It was still dark outside and he clutched at his chest, trying to calm himself down. 

You were safe. You were safe and he was close enough to you that he could protect you if something happened. 

He repeated it in his head like a mantra and it helped but only so much. There was this little, nagging thought that, while he thought you were safe and well, he couldn’t be sure. Not until he saw you. 

It was early, still dark outside, but he checked his phone. It wasn’t the middle of the night, at least. 

He got up on the off chance that you might be awake, glancing toward your bedroom door and seeing it closed. But it looked like there was a light on in the main part of the house so he followed it, finding you leaning against the counter in the kitchen in a bathrobe, a towel around your head. You were scrolling through something on your tablet, drinking from a mug of coffee. There were only a few lights on, the room still mostly dark, something quiet and almost illicit about his presence there. But the tension in his body eased all the same. You were whole, he could relax. 

“Did I wake you?” You frowned, glancing up at him from the glow of the tablet screen. 

“No,” he said, almost defensive. “Why.” 

“Because,” you shrugged, looking back at the tablet. “You usually wear a shirt when I don’t catch you by surprise.” 

He glanced down at himself and almost groaned. He hadn’t even thought about putting something on. 

“Just woke up,” he said, going to get a cup of coffee for himself. “Didn’t think you’d be awake yet.” 

“Well, I needed to get a workout and a shower in before the glam team shows up,” you said, taking a drink from a green smoothie that he hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t worry, I didn’t go anywhere. I just swam some laps and Quinn’s assistant brought me this.” 

You held up the cup and waggled it in his direction. He rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, because heaven forbid I’m concerned about you gettin’ grabbed by some stalker,” he muttered, getting himself a coffee and leaning against the counter across from you and tried to resist the urge to look down the neck of your robe, something that would be so easy to do with you bent over the counter the way you were. 

Then you stood up straight, setting the tablet down, making his life a little easier. 

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” you said, your coffee cup tight in your hand. 

Joel frowned. 

“What d’you mean.” 

“I mean,” you took a deep breath. “That I behaved unprofessionally. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, I shouldn't have said the things I did. You’re right, it’s not your job to like me and it doesn’t matter if you do or not. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable but, if I did, I apologize. You’re good at your job and I appreciate the work you do. It won’t happen again.” 

“Oh,” Joel said, taken aback. “Um… It’s… It’s fine.” 

“Good,” you said, downing the last of your coffee. “Glam squad will be here in a little while. You may want to hide while you can. I might promise professionalism but I can’t speak for my stylist.” 

Joel snorted at that. 

“Good advice.” 

You smiled tightly, taking the smoothie back toward your bedroom. 

“Hey, Siren,” he said, almost wincing as he said it but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to use your real name, the words seeming almost too intimate. But you stopped all the same, facing him with your eyebrows raised. “I meant that. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t go beating yourself up about it.” 

“Thanks, Big Miller,” you smiled a little, softer this time. “I appreciate that.” 

Joel ate something and got dressed before people started showing up for you. He met each of them at the door, making sure he knew who was in the house and what they were there to do. Makeup artists and hairstylists and, of course, Frank and his assistant. There was even a team of people escorting a fucking necklace and earrings in some oversized red box that made Joel grind his teeth. It was a little surprising, just how many people it took to get you ready to go to a fucking event. 

He couldn’t imagine what they could all be fucking doing, especially not for hours upon hours. It’s not like there was anything on you to improve, he wasn’t sure why the hell it’d take an entire day to get you ready for anything. 

But when you eventually emerged from your room, he understood. 

Frank was carrying the back of your dress while you held up the front and you were nodding along to something the woman beside you was saying and Joel couldn’t help but stare at you. 

It was like you were a sculpture or a painting, more a work of art than any mortal thing. The gown looked like it had been made for you, finding and highlighting every soft curve of your body. There was a diamond necklace with a massive center stone resting in the hollow of your throat, making him think about how delicate your skin would be there. Your makeup perfectly framed your eyes and the arch of your cheekbones and the plush of your lips. Your hair and nails and eyelashes were all longer and more elegant than they’d been just hours before and you were so beautiful it was hard to look at you. It was painful, wrong in some way. You were something beyond him entirely, ethereal and other. He wasn’t meant to look upon the likes of you. 

“You ready?” You asked, turning your attention to him. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than he’d meant it to be. “You really gonna watch an entire movie in that thing?” 

“Not the most uncomfortable gown I’ve worn, trust me,” you cocked a smile at him. “But we should go, there’s always traffic for premieres.” 

Joel just grunted noncommittally. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford to let you distract him just because you were beautiful. Not after his dream this morning, not when he knew what was at risk. 

He stared determinedly out the window all the way to the theater. 

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it,” you said as the two of you sat in traffic, getting closer and closer to the red carpet. 

“Of what,” Joel said, looking your way for the first time in a while, forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your throat. 

“Of the film,” you said. “You might be the only person here who will be honest to me about it. I’m curious to know your thoughts.” 

“Not a movie critic,” he muttered. 

“I know,” you said. “That’s why I’m curious.” 

The two of you finally made it to the red carpet and the door opened, your costar there waiting for you with his hand out. 

“My God, love,” he said, looking you up and down. “Do you ever look anything but perfect?” 

“I do what I can,” you smiled, giving him your hand and letting him help you out of the limo. 

Joel got out, too, going around the back of the crowd instead of following you up the carpet, the distance from you making his heart beat faster and his muscles clench. 

“Fuckin’ risky,” he muttered to himself, following your path from the other side of the cluster of fans who were pressed against velvet ropes. There was a large screen set up, a camera tracking you and Reese’s progress down the carpet and Joel kept his head on a swivel, watching you and the crowd and the space at the edges for any threats, trying not to grind his teeth at the way your costar’s hands rested at your waist, hip, back. 

He’d very nearly relaxed when you and Reese had worked your way down most of the fans. You’d almost made it to the press, the more contained part of the carpet where you’d be more secure. Maybe, he thought, he was just being paranoid. Maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about here. 

You started talking to a young man at the end of he cluster of fans, one not much older than the college idiots that seemed to dominate Austin half the fucking year, but there was something about him that set Joel on edge. 

You took a selfie with him and signed something for him but he kept clutching at your arm, not letting you move. Reese’s usually carefree expression shifted, eyebrows drawing together, lips pursing. He put his hand at your waist and gave the man a wave, saying something and smiling a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before pulling you away. You smiled warmly at the man, probably saying something nicer than he deserved, and let Reese lead you on but the man wasn’t letting you go. Your eyes went up, immediately finding Joel’s, a spark of fear in your gaze he could see even from this far away. 

Both of the man’s hands closed around your wrist and he yanked you back toward him, pulling you out of Reese’s hold and making you stumble and Joel was moving before he fully realized what he was doing. 

It was instinctual, shoving his way through the press of fans with no care for who he knocked down on the way. Even with the tightly packed crowd, he was to you in seconds, the man’s hands locked tight around your wrist, bending it at an unnatural angle, Reese trying to pry the man’s hands away from you. Your eyes were wide, the hand that wasn’t in the mans’ grip on his elbow almost soothingly, as though your gentleness was all he needed. 

“No, you don’t understand!” The man was pleading. “I love you, I need you, I’ll do everything for you, everything, no one else will ever love you the way I do, I…” 

Before he could finish talking, Joel punched him across the face. The blow was hard and sharp and sent the man reeling, almost taking you with him before Reese caught you around your stomach and pulled you back from the velvet ropes. 

Event security appeared then, swooping in on the man as he sat on the ground, looking dazed. 

“About fuckin’ time,” Joel snapped to them before hurdling the rope and going to you. Reese had angled you away from the camera that had been following the pair of you down the carpet, cradling your wrist in his hands, saying something to you that Joel couldn’t quite hear. 

“You OK?” Joel asked, a little breathless. Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his, something almost frantic in your gaze. Your chest was heaving, your breaths coming in fearful little pants and he closed the distance between the two of you quickly, taking the uncanny beauty of your face in his hand. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek into his palm and his fingers held you tighter than they should but he couldn’t seem to pull back. Your skin was soft, smooth, warm, perfect. You took a deep breath. “You’re safe, it’s OK.” 

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling and wet, none of your typical bravado to be found. 

“I know,” he said. “But they got him. Not gonna let him hurt you, you’re safe.” 

You nodded into him. 

“Do we need to leave?” Reese looked to Joel, his brows drawn tight together. 

“No,” you said quickly before Joel had a chance to respond. He frowned, going to argue with you but you cut him off. “No, we’re almost to the press, we need to just keep going, it’s fine, I’m fine. We keep going.” 

Joel searched your eyes, your face still in his hand and, as afraid as you looked, you were just as determined, too. 

“Fine,” Joel clenched his jaw. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. 

“I’ve got you,” Reese said gently to you before turning back to Joel. “I’ll take care of her.” 

Joel nodded once, firmly, before finally - painfully - taking his hand back from you. You closed your eyes and took a deep, centering breath. You raised your chin defiantly and steeled your spine and opened your eyes again. You smiled a little as you did and, for the first time, Joel recognized a shift in you. It was like the auditions, when you embodied someone else. You weren’t yourself anymore, you were just another character now, someone with your face and voice but detached from you. 

“Let’s go,” you said, leading Reese down the carpet toward the press. 

Joel watched until you were at the backdrop, smiling and posing with your costar, making sure event security was close by before slipping back into the crowd. 

The man who’d grabbed you had been wrestled away from the crowd, tucked off to the side and now in custody of police. Joel went and found them, introducing himself to the cops and telling them about the stalking threat he’d been hired to protect against. 

The man was still yelling, fully sobbing as he said again and again how much he loved you, how all he wanted was to take care of you. Joel wished the police would turn their backs for a moment, just a moment, just long enough for him to get another hit in on him. He wanted to hurt him, scare him, make him realize that you were protected and that he couldn’t get to you.

Joel had never dealt with a stalker before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the guy. The level of obsession, the passion, the willingness to hurt you to get what he wanted made it seem likely. 

That was good, he thought. If this was the guy, you were out of immediate danger. You’d be safe - or as safe as someone as famous as you could be. There was a certain sense of peace in him at that. 

But there was this keen longing in him, too. 

If this was your stalker, his contract would be up. He would go back to Texas with you, pack up the things at your house and say goodbye to this strange semblance of a life he’d found himself in with you and your niece. He’d be without the both of you, alone in the tomb of his house, waiting for the next time he could jump in front of a bullet for someone else so he could feel alive. 

He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at that thought, the sickening feeling in his stomach. 

This had been a mistake, this whole fucking job had been a mistake. The second he knew who you were he should have told Tommy no, he couldn’t. You were too close to Sarah, the job too long lasting. It was too big a risk for him, too much of a chance for him to get attached to someone he had no business getting attached to. 

“Joel.” 

He looked around to find Quinn at his back, her face drawn. 

“She alright?” He asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“She made it through the press but she might have a broken wrist,” she said, her voice low. “She’s ducking out the back once the film starts, we need to get her to a doctor. She has fight training starting soon and an injury is going to be who knows how much in production delays…” 

Joel bristled. 

“And if she’s got a broken fuckin’ bone it needs to be treated.” 

“Obviously,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I thought that went without saying.” 

“She’s not just a fucking profit center,” he narrowed his eyes at your manager. “She’s a person.” 

Quinn looked at him for a moment, considering him. 

“I know that, Joel,” she said gently. “I just wasn’t aware you did.” 

Quinn, at least, had the foresight to get your usual SUV to pick you up instead of the limo you’d arrived in. Security let Joel in the back door and you were waiting for him there, looking so out of place among the boxes and storage in your gown and jewels. You were stiff and oddly small, shoulders hunched as you leaned back against a cinderblock wall, cradling your injured wrist to your chest. Someone tried to talk to him but Joel ignored them, instead going straight for you. 

“Changed your mind?” He asked, hands in his pockets so he didn’t touch you again. 

You looked at him through your lashes, something sharply vulnerable in your eyes for a moment before you straightened and smirked a little. 

“Figured going to an afterparty with a wrist the size of a grapefruit was a bad look,” you said, showing your arm to him. Your wrist was swollen and discolored and he resisted the urge to take it gently in his hands. “Don’t want the press to be about this, we want it to be about the movie.” 

“Alright, c’mon then,” he said. “Get you checked out.” 

He put his arm around you, tucking you against his side as you held your wrist against yourself.  He stayed close to you on the drive, your body warm and relaxed against him. 

“Do you think that was him?” You asked quietly, voice small. 

“I don’t know,” Joel said. His hand was on your arm. Your skin was soft. “I talked to the police, told them about the stalker, they’re gonna investigate…” 

“He scared me,” you said softly. “I know there were threats but… It didn’t seem real. I didn’t think anything would happen.” 

“I know,” Joel said, his thumb tracing a slow, steady path over your skin. “I’ve got you. Keep you safe.” 

He said it as much for himself as he did for you. He tried not to think about why he needed to. 

The driver took the two of you to a small doctor’s office that, at this hour, was quiet. A nurse met you both at the back and you were quickly ushered into an exam room and given an x-ray, you in your gown on the cold paper of the exam table a sight that made Joel’s heart clench. 

“You did indeed break it,” the doctor said, pointing out a thin line on the x-ray. “It’s a minor fracture, shouldn’t need a full cast and just a splint for three to five weeks.” 

“How soon before I can train?” You frowned. “Can I train in a splint?” 

“That really what you should be worried about?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You looked over to him, your eyebrows knitting together. 

“There’s a whole movie depending on me, Joel,” you said. “People have contracts, they have bills they need to pay. I can’t just take weeks off.” 

“Can’t make a movie if you don’t heal,” he muttered. 

“You need to take at least three weeks before you do anything extreme with that wrist,” the doctor said. “If you don’t, you’ll need a cast and you’ll be out of commission even longer.” 

“Alright Doc,” you smiled. “You win, I’ll take it easy.” 

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to see you try to hold an Oscar in a cast.” 

It was a relief to get you back home again, in a contained space that Joel had gotten to know in the last week. Frank and a hairstylist met you there, the three of you disappearing into your room for a while and Joel considered sitting in his own, not sure he could handle seeing you again but then, he wasn’t sure he could handle not seeing you, either. So he sat on the couch, existing in a state of limbo, not sure what to do next. 

“Sounds like you saved the day,” Frank said when he eventually emerged, a garment bag over his arm. 

“Dunno about that,” Joel said. “Still let her get her fuckin’ wrist broke.” 

“Seems like it could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said. “Broken wrist will heal.” 

Joel just grunted. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Thank you. She’s one of the good ones.” 

He left before Joel got a chance to respond. The hairstylist left not long after, a bag of hair in her hands, and, when you didn’t come out right after, he almost thought you’d gone to bed. He was considering doing the same when you slowly, almost cautiously, came down the hall, peering into the living room as though your presence in your own home was somehow illicit. 

“Oh,” you said, in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants and wrist splint. The makeup was gone, the long nails and lashes and hair, too. But you were still beautiful, maybe even more so now. It was the most human Joel had ever seen you. “Sorry, I thought you’d be in your room…” 

“Don’t need to apologize,” he shrugged. “Your house. You OK?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “A little sore but… I’ll be fine, it’s just a minor fracture.” 

Joel nodded slowly and you stood there awkwardly for a moment. 

“I’m going to make tea,” you said. “Eat something solid for the first time today now that I’m out of that dress. Call Ellie, check in. Want to join?” 

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes, follow you to the kitchen and be next to you, have tea, talk to Ellie. He wanted to keep existing in the same sphere as you, be folded into your life the way he had become the last few months. 

But he couldn’t. He knew that. You and Ellie and your lives weren’t for him. 

“Should go to bed,” he said instead. “Been a long week.” 

You smiled - a little sadly, he thought - but nodded and went to the kitchen and he listened to you just exist for a moment before he left you there alone. 

It didn’t seem to make a difference. He dreamed of you again. 

It was different this time. You were far away from him, in the t-shirt and sweats you’d changed into, larger than life but out of reach. All he could do was watch as someone hurt you and you looked for him to help you. He ran and ran but he couldn’t reach you, couldn’t do a goddamn thing except watch you hurt because he couldn’t do the one thing he’d been built to do. 

He stared at the ceiling when he woke up, his heart pounding and body tense. 

He had to stop this. Whatever road he was going down, whatever he was doing, he had to stop. He couldn’t live his life this way, where he was always afraid and waiting for things to go wrong. He’d learned that lesson once, the hard way. He couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t. 

“Ready to get back to the Lone Star State?” You asked, already in the kitchen when Joel got up. 

“Guess so,” he said. You watched him, like you were waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. 

“Well,” you said when he was quiet for too long. “I know Ellie is looking forward to you coming back, she told me something about that video game you guys…” 

“Look,” Joel cut you off. “Ellie’s a great kid…” 

“Agreed.” 

“But, if that guy was your stalker, I got no reason to be at your house all the time,” he said. 

“Oh,” you said, your shoulders slumping a little. “Right. I hadn’t really… That makes sense. Yeah.” 

Joel poured himself a cup of coffee. 

“Should go get packed,” he said. 

He didn’t wait for a response, just going back to his room to gather his things and avoid you and it was a relief when the car was there, ready to take the two of you to the airport. 

“We do have to make one stop on the way,” you said, holding the red box that had shown up yesterday. 

Joel frowned. 

“Don’t you got people for that?” 

“Well, the original plans got a little fucked with the whole ‘crazy man at the premiere’ thing,” you said. “But keep your shirt on, Big Miller, it’ll only take five minutes.” 

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes, wishing he was back in Texas already. 

He sat in back next to you, anyway. 

The stop at the jeweler was quick - you trading the large and ostentatious red box for a much smaller one - and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ushered onto the plane, the last people aboard as you tucked yourself into the window seat in the front row, a baseball cap tugged low over your face and a sweatshirt covering the brace on your arm. 

Joel was tense the entire flight. He hated when people realized you were aboard and started demanding autographs and selfies, when you got up to use the bathroom, when the plane hit turbulence and he knew there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do to save either of you if the plane went down and that level of powerlessness disturbed him at his core. 

He’d been stupid with you. Careless, reckless, dumb. He knew better now, he knew where giving a fuck led and it was nowhere good. He thought that wasn’t a risk with you, that your spoiled fucking attitude and obscene wealth and the ease of your life would make it so he could never care for you but he was wrong. He gave a shit. For the first time in five years, he cared. 

And he needed to get far away from that before it killed you both. 

He went wordlessly to his room at your house in Austin when you got there, Seth beating you both to the house to take over so Joel could have a few days off. He grabbed a few things he knew he’d want and resolved to ask Seth to pack the rest for him when the police confirmed that it had, indeed, been your stalker last night. For now, he just needed to get out of here and get away from you. 

“Hey, Joel!” You followed after him as he stalked toward his truck, his duffle over his shoulder. 

He gritted his teeth and turned to face you. 

“What.” 

You all but flinched back from him, blinking in surprise at his curt tone. He knew he was being short with you but it needed to happen. It had to. 

“Oh,” you said, the smaller red box from the jeweler in your hands. “I just…” You thrust it toward him, looking at him with wide and oddly honest eyes. “I got you something. I ordered it before the thing yesterday, just to say thank you for everything in LA, but it can be kind of a going away gift now, too, since… well, anyway.” 

He took it, the fact that you seemed out of sorts disorienting, and opened it. Inside was a watch. It was simple, rectangular with a silver case and black leather strap, but obviously luxurious. 

“It’s engraved,” you smiled, fidgeting with your sweatshirt sleeves. “Which is probably dumb but I couldn’t resist, I’m a sucker for shit like engraving, don’t ask me why…” 

“You think this is what I want?” He asked, holding up the box, voice cold.You just blinked at him for a moment. “That I want some fancy fucking jewelry? That I’m like your rich fucking friends you can just buy off or something?” 

“What?” You looked at him, hurt. “No, no, I… I just… Yours is broken and I wanted to say thank you for…” 

“For me doin’ my job,” he cut you off. “That’s what this was, a job. We’re not friends, you don’t need to thank me for shit. You paid me, I protected you, end of story. I don’t want your fancy fucking watch, I don’t want…” 

“Then sell it!” You snapped, angry now. “Consider it a tip, run it over with your car because you hate me so fucking much, tell the tabloids about how the movie star bought you a present, I don’t care! I know you’re thrilled to be rid of me, anyway. Nice knowing you, Miller. Have a nice life.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, you stalked back into your house, leaving him there with nothing left but a hollow ache in his chest and the watch that he wished he could find a home for on his arm. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Look. If you're here because you've read my other stuff, are we at all surprised that we ended up here? Is anyone surprised that I'm back in my natural habitat - torturing Joel Miller - yet again?

I wish I knew why I was like this, I really do, but alas, here we are. Thanks for reading it and for putting up with my total lack of a posting schedule. I really appreciate you being here and caring about these characters enough to read the monster chapters I put out about them.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter

[mossyivy]

I’m going to go insane if Tumblr scraps one of my ask’s again. Gonna reveal my identity at this point. ☹️ (You wish.)

BUT OH MY GOODNESS YES YES YES, A THIRD BABY IS POSSIBLE!!!

I personally feel like Violet would be around 13-15, and Cecilia 9-10. (You can adjust with the age gap etc.) So they’d be a little older now, barely teenagers now.

Of course, the pregnancy was an unexpected thing. Both you and Leon never thought the two of you would have another baby, but nonetheless, the two of you had to deal with the consequences of your horny actions. 🙄

Violet and Cecilia would absolutely hate the two of you at first. Big sisters? Hell no. They’d literally run out of the living room yelling and slam the door to their separate rooms in frustrations. But what could the two of you do? Just wait and let them get over it…

At first, it was such a weird thing to them…Seeing their mom with a belly…Ew. And how Leon would give you double the attention made them get the ick, they were already used to y’all acting like horny teenagers but oh my god.

But alas, as soon as they met their little baby brother, oh, it was like it was the greatest thing in the world! The two of them would constantly beg to hold him, fighting over who gets to unfreeze the milk from the fridge and make him a bottle.

They’d both play with him, volunteer to even take him off of your hands for the day. (Which never lasted because they regret it as soon as he has a stinky diaper.) The two would also very much criticize his outfit choices. Every single onesie and little outfit you put on him had to be approved by his big sisters.

I also feel like they’d come up to you in the middle of target with a bunch of baby toys and clothes saying that he’d absolutely love them, and you just had to sign and give in.

- Anon! 🎀

Tumblr has been a Cunt to me the past few days with asks. I'm about to delete my whole account if it doesn't get fixed (I'm being dramatic.)

Leon and his wife would even be shocked they could have babies still... Not unhappy but you'd look him dead in the eyes and tell him "I'm getting my tubes tied or you're getting a vasectomy. No more kids."

Violetta (12) would definitely want nothing to do with the baby at first. She's almost a teenager and her parents having another kid at their DECREPIT AGE?!

So Embarrassing 🙄

Cecilia (8), still very young and impressionable would probably just be following her sisters lead but secretly be excited to finally have some to boss around.

But Violet (being the older pain in the ass sister she is) would probably get to Lia and drill it into her head that middle kids get forgotten and oh nooo she's the middle child

Make her sister cry, get grounded and her phone taken away for that.

But once their mother starts showing, Lia comes around immediately. Cuddles up with mommy on the couch whenever she can just to be close to the baby. Violets still super hesitant and not happy about it. Especially every time her dad shows you affection and like... Bucket loads of affection.

He missed seeing you pregnant. That pretty glow you'd always exude even just existing in his presence. And your cute pregnant waddle! He could go on for hours how much he loves when you're pregnant. This is a completely new experience for Lia, Violet hardly remembers what happened when you were originally pregnant with Lia . She was way too young to remember.

Time comes around when you find out the babies sex, Leon fully preparing for a 3 for 3 on the princess counter.

It's a boy... He's devastated at first. He really wanted another girl. But you on the other hand are relieved. You wanted a little boy. Not that you don't love your daughters it just be nice to have a son too. Eventually he's okay, especially after you tell him this means you need to have more renovations done to the house so there's room for the new baby. That means a new room to make into a nursery, something they didn't get to do with Lia but this time around they will.

Closer to the due date you start going over names for the baby. Leon suggesting Marvin as a middle name, you know the context of it and accept it immediately. Everyone starts throwing names around, Violet staying quiet. Lia suggests calling him Puppy...

"That's not a name honey." You chuckle at her suggestion when Violet looks at Leon.

"What's your middle name Dad?"

"Scott." Violet looks between her parents, shrugging.

"Scott sounds good to me."

You and Leon look at each other and smile. Agreeing it's a good name.

Time comes around to have the baby. Violets still against the kid, Lia's bouncing off the walls excited to meet her baby brother. You give birth and the girls are allowed in the room finally.

Both girls look mostly like a good mixture of the two of you... Leon could never deny Scott as his son (he never would) because the kid looks exactly like him. Dusty Brown hair from his younger years, cute little nose, big blue eyes and a butter ball of a chunky baby. He's absolutely precious.

Lia gets help from Leon to hold him since she's still younger. Violet keeps her distance until she walks over to check on you and make sure you aren't too tuckered out. Leon basically traps Violet between a chair and her only escape, offering her to hold her brother if she sits down. She agrees just to get this over with.

She has little Scott in her arms. He looks up at her smiling with those big blue eyes... 3. 2. 1...

She's crying. Won't stop talking about how cute he is or how much she loves him already. You and Leon share a look before he tries taking the baby back.

"He needs skin to skin time with mommy." She whines, reluctantly handing him over.

After that day you basically have two live in nanny's. Both girls wanting to help.

Unless it's diaper related...

[dreaminginpencil]

Can y’all see this or is tumblr fucking with me again…?

Pls let me know if I need to yell at them about shadowbans. Again.

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter one: Save Your Tears —✿

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, angst, cursing, drugs

Author’s Note: I came up with this idea based on my first book on tumblr Juno, after watching euphoria again. Hope y’all enjoy!

—✿

“SHIT.”

Noelle was three months along when she found out, freshly three months…

“Fuck!”

—✿

So on New Years when Nate and noelle fought…people started to talk about the slight stomach bump under her shirt.

—✿

“Fuck you Nate!”

“Noelle I’m serious. You can’t get ride of it.” Nate shouted, looking around the room to be sure that the two of them were alone. Not that everyone didn’t see the two walk into the bathroom together arguing but you get the point.

When Noelle had forst found out she was pregnant the first person she told was fezco. The two of them had always been close, maybe because they both grew up without their parents. But Fezco was always there for her, I guess in a way she didn’t get to have with Nate growing up.

“Shit ma. You’re in it bad.” Fezco said, staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands.

“Thanks fez, I know.” She joked, making them both chuckle. He leaned back against the couch, taking a hit from his joint before shaking his head.

“You let that ass have sex with you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as Noelle sighed.

“I know fez, I know. I just, I don’t know what to do.”

He noticed the way her tone changed in seconds. He took note of how her manner shifted and her hands clenched slightly.

“It’ll be okay ma. You know you always have a place here.” Fezco reassured, referring to how badly she feared her parents reaction. Not that they really cared about her all too much, she just new they would happily kick her out based on the news.

“Thanks fez.”

“Did you tell him yet?” Fez asked, causing a long groan to leave Noelle’s lips.

“That’s my next job.”

So she told him at new years. She told him and then told him she was getting rid of it. For someone who had a hell ton of shit going on, Nate was pretty pissed off about Noelle getting rid of the baby.

—✿

“It’s my damn body Nate! I’m sorry but unfortunately you have no say.” Noelle said angrily, storming into the bathroom to fight where no one would hear

“It’s my kid to.” Nate reasoned, stomping after her as she tried to avoid him.

“To hell it is. More the reason to get rid of it.” She said, throwing her hands in the air as she looked at him angrily.

“You can’t.”

“I'm not talking talking to you.” She hissed, turning on her heel and leaving the bathroom.

“Noah…” he tried, using her childhood nickname to try and connect with him.

“Im not talking to you Nate.”

“Would you stop walking away from me, I’m trying to talk to you…”

“Oh please.” She scoffed, shaking her head as she now pushed through people to make it out the door.

“You, you can’t Noah!”

“Fuck off!” She yelled, opening her car door getting ready to leave.

“Can we just talk about this?”

“This isn’t your concern anymore Nate, I’m stopping it now before it gets anywhere…” she explained, about to sit in her car before he shouted, his fists clenched angrily at his sides.

“You can’t abort it Noelle!” He shouted, looking around to make sure no one heard before quieting down a bit. “I won’t let you!”

“Excuse me?” She bit back.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I can’t be hearing this right. You, Nate fucking Jacobs, the boy who, told me he loved me before running off to fuck my best friend…you suddenly hear that you knocked me up, and all of the sudden you think you have the right to tell me what to do with my own fucking body?” She shouted, now even angrier then before.

—✿

It was true, before Cassie, and before Maddy, there was Noelle. Nate’s first girlfriend. Back when Nate didn’t lose all of his will to live anymore. Nate was with Noelle for almost all of our junior year. Sometimes he wondered how his life would be if he didn’t cheat on her with maddy. If he stayed with Noelle…maybe his life wouldn’t be all that bad. Maybe he wouldn’t be standing here right now, with some sort of melancholy feeling about a baby that would bring the two together forever.

—✿

“It’s my kid too…” he said softly, which in turn only made her angrier.

“Just because you fucked me, and have the biggest ego on the planet that your so big and mighty, doesnt mean it’s your kid.”

“Oh yeah? Who else could it be then huh?” He hissed, now feeling angry again.

“What?”

“Go on.”

“Wouldn’t you love to know.” She hissed, shaking her head as he shrugged.

“I really would.”

He got closer to her, making her stomach drop slightly as she stared back at him.

“I don’t…look, I really don’t want you to get ride of it.” He said softly, noticing how close they had now gotten.

“You don’t have any say. Look Nate, you decided to stop having a say in my life the second you started fucking Maddy, so don’t for a second think you have any responsibilities or honors to me. You aren’t big and mighty Nate, you weren’t made to be a dad, I wasn’t made to be a mother. We’re better off I end this now, then let it drag on.”

And with that she left. Getting into her car and returning to fezco’s house for the 6th time that week since her parents had been away.

—✿

So when Fezco heard that Nate wasn’t gonna be there for Noelle. Not only that, but that he gave her a hard time about it? He didn’t hesitate to beat the shit out of him right there at the party.

All Nate could see as Fezco’s fists pounded his face was Noelle.

[lotusflqwer]

Caught

A/N: Hello everyone, Lotus here!! This is a Zenitsu x f!reader smut fanfic! Aged up of course. If you have any constructive criticism or suggestions to make my writing better, y’all can send an ask or maybe leave a comment? I’m still figuring out how tumblr works so…..sorry😰 Anyway I hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, female reader, caught masturbating, a little bit of underwear fetish?, whimpering, vaginal penetration

Word count: 1.3k

Everyone knew Zenitsu had a crush on you, but being a demon slayer didn’t exactly allow enough time for romance. That didn’t mean you didn’t like him back; you were always thinking of him. His golden hair, soft lips, champagne colored eyes, strong legs, toned back and chest-

You snapped yourself out of your daydream, stopping the thoughts from going any further. You were sitting on a porch in the butterfly mansion watching the sun set.

I should probably head back inside. You thought, embarrassed that you were thinking of such things.

You made your way inside, saying hello to everyone as you passed them by. It was almost time for dinner, and you figured you could relax in your room until then.

But you heard a noise that made you freeze. Is someone….whining? And groaning? The sounds were faint, but you definitely heard it.

The noises sounded like it was coming from your room. Oh no, did someone get hurt? You rushed to get to your room and slid the door wide open, wanting to help whoever was there. But nothing could prepare you from what you saw happening in your room.

Zenitsu was on the floor against your bed, moaning your name over and over. His pajama shirt was unbuttoned and halfway off, revealing his muscular upper body. In one hand was a familiar cloth being held against his face. His other hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking off quickly.

“Z-Zenitsu!?” You stuttered, shocked at the scene that was being displayed. His head shot up, and his face instantly turned red. He tried to cover himself from you. “Y/n?! I-It’s not what it looks like!” Zenitsu rapidly responded, stumbling over his words.

You pointed at the cloth he had in his hand. “Is that my……underwear?” You asked. Zenitsu covered his face with his hands, feeling embarrassed by your question. “Y-Yes….it is,” he replied meekly. A deep red blush appeared on your face.

“I’m sorry y/n!” Zenitsu yelled, “I-I promise I will leave you alone, you will never see me again!” He looked at you with tears in his eyes.

Before he could say anything else, you slid the door closed and walked closer to him. “Zenitsu….” You started, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “How come you didn’t hear me coming down the hall?” You said, lowering your voice.

“U-uh um” he stuttered and looked away, not daring to meet your eyes. You put your hand on his cheek and made him look up at you. “I asked you a question. Why aren’t you answering?” You asked innocently, knowing full well what you were doing to him.

Zenitsu’s erection twitched at how you sounded. It was music to his ears. “I was too focused thinking about you a-and I didn’t hear you” he answered, almost whispering. He looked into your eyes and adored how beautiful you looked. He loved everything about you.

“Y-y/n……can I kiss you?”

You bent down and gave him a deep and passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you straddled him and took his erection in your hands. He gasped at the sudden feeling. He’s been fantasizing about this moment for months. You leaned in and whispered, “is this okay?”

Shivers went down Zenitsu’s spine as his sharp hearing amplified your sweet voice. “A-ah~….yes it’s m-more than okay” he moaned.

You nipped at his ear as a response and planted kisses all over his neck as you jerked him off.

“Y/n~” he whimpered, “t-this feels— ah~ a-ahh~ —so good!” He put his hands on your waist and pressed you closer to him.

His perfect moans and whines filling the room made your core heat up.

“God y/n y-you’re so hot” Zenitsu groaned, groping your chest as you kept jerking him off. You leaned in to lovingly make out with him.

Zenitsu took your hand off his dick and lifted you off him. You could feel his strong arms under you as he set you face up on your bed.

Zenitsu leaned down and started leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. His hands made their way to your breasts, pinching and rubbing circles around your nipples.

You moaned into his touch and arched your back. One of Zenitsu’s hands left your breasts and started to go lower. He rubbed his hand up and down your folds before he started massaging your clit.

“Oh god, ah~ Z-Zenitsu~” you moaned as your nails dug into his shoulders. He groaned at the feeling of you leaving scratch marks on his skin.

You cupped his face with both hands and kissed him.

As your kiss turned into a make out, Zenitsu lined himself up with your entrance. “Is it okay if I go in?” He pulled away to ask. A string of saliva connected your mouths.

You simply nodded, unable to form any words.

Zenitsu kisses your cheek and slowly slid the head of his cock in. He paused, waiting for you to tell him you were ready for him to go in further.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. He’s no where close to halfway in, and I already feel like I’m being torn in two.

After a minute or two, you signaled him to go in deeper. He slowly pushed himself into your dripping pussy until he bottomed out.

Zenitsu was panting. You felt so wet and warm. He wanted to thrust into you, but waited for you to adjust to him.

“O-Okay….you can start moving.” You whispered, knowing that the uncomfortable pain would soon be replaced with pleasure.

Zenitsu slowly slide out halfway and thrusted back in. He let out a shaky moan as he felt your tight walls around his dick.

He trusted slowly a few times before he quickened his pace. You didn’t feel pain anymore and started moaning at how full you felt with each thrust.

Moans getting louder by the second filled the room as Zenitsu found a rhythm. Neither of you have ever felt this good.

Zenitsu thrusted into you faster and faster, bruising your cervix as he somehow went deeper with each thrust.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, and you were sure he was close too. Zenitsu’s thrusts were getting sloppier as he continued.

You couldn’t think of anything besides how good you felt. You intertwined your hand with Zenitsu’s.

“M’close! So, so close,” you moaned. Zenitsu only nodded. He wanted you to reach your orgasm first, so he could pull out to cum.

As if you read his mind, your free hand went to your breast to play with your nipple, so you could cum sooner.

The sounds of skin slapping on skin and Zenitsu’s moans was the final thing you needed. You came and arched your back, rubbing your body on Zenitsu’s.

After two more thrusts, Zenitsu pulled out and strings of cum shot onto your stomach.

You both admiringly looked into each other’s eyes. “Zenitsu—“

“Um….excuse me? Y/n?”

You and Zenitsu immediately froze and looked at the closed door where the voice came from.

“Y-yes?!” You yelled back in response, your voice sounded like you ran a mile. You hoped whoever was behind the door didn’t catch how breathless you sounded.

“I was sent here to tell you dinner is being served. Also, have you seen Zenitsu? He wasn’t in his room when I went to tell him dinner is ready.” The voice stated.

“N-Nope! I haven’t seen him,” you said, smiling at Zenitsu. “Maybe he’s outside? If I see him, I’ll let him know he can go eat.”

“Oh ok! I’ll go check if he’s outside.”

You heard their footsteps fade away as they left. Zenitsu sighed out of relief that you two didn’t get caught. He sat up on the bed, making you feel cold without the warmth of his body.

“I guess we should go eat dinner” Zenitsu whispered, sounding worn out.

“I’d rather stay here with you,” you pouted, “you’re so warm, and I just want to lay with you for a bit.”

Zenitsu’s face turned a bright pink hearing you say that. “Alright, just a few minutes” he replied sheepishly. He laid back down and put his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug.

———

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it! Again if there’s any constructive criticism you have please send an ask or a comment or something lollll. Thank you for reading!

[cleolinda]

Tumblr cannot replace Twitter, or Reddit, or Instagram, or Pinterest, or vice versa. I’m not saying it can. All these sites have their own functionalities and subcultures and mores. I miss Twitter. I’ve been missing Twitter since 2015, when the tone of the whole site started going to shit.

If you are moving to any platform, it is very appreciated to just hang out for a while and observe how people do things. You can go against the culture, but you’ll be consciously choosing to do things differently.

I’ve never watched one single second of Supernatural in my entire life. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like Supernatural. We get our news from the Destiel meme. That’s just how it is.

Yeah, when I posted about welcoming people from Reddit and Twitter, I was thinking in very naive and (help me, I can’t think of the word. Not provincial. “Relating to only that which is right in front of your face”) ways about redditors I had seen arrive from Tumblr-friendly subreddits, and Twitter users I personally interact with (because who else would see me tweeting about it). Dear God, no, I don’t want most of Reddit or Twitter coming over here. My apologies for saying otherwise.

Just before Reddit imploded, I had seen people here worrying that Tumblr really was dying and was so much quieter than it used to be, so an influx of the kind of people who would want to come to Tumblr seemed like a good thing.

When I said Tumblr has been less stressful for me, I completely forgot about the time I ended up with thousands of people yelling “kill yourself” about movie theater trash on a poll I made on a whim, for a solid week. Y’all, why do you keep doing that to each other, come on.

Still less stressful than Twitter, where potentially the whole planet (hyperbole) (maybe) could see anything you fucked up about if your fuckup went viral. Also, [gestures at everything]

I feel bad that I left Tumblr (as in, I made only a few reblogs a year) for a long while, but in my defense, it wasn’t because of the porn ban, and I wasn’t on Twitter much either. I had spinal surgery and covid and just Could Not for a few years. But I did, I admit, see that Muskrat was officially taking control of Twitter last year, and I jumped back on both sites in a panic to make sure I stayed in touch with people. So I did kind of leave and come back. I’d kept up with most of the memes, at least.

I feel like I earn my keep by reblogging a lot. Reblogging stuff, especially artists who post here, goes a long way.

[starredforlife]

what do you suggest instead of voting blue? letting Trump win? he isn't gonna help Palestine either, and he is planning to literally take away a lot of US Americans' rights, and, like, for example wants to document/supervise pregnancies. or said that if he becomes president people won't have to vote again in four years. I'm all for supporting other people in other countries but please can you think of the people in your country that would die under Trump as well. like him winning wouldn't help anyone.

People like you who fall into this weird logical trap genuinely baffle me. I have never ever suggested voting for trump or NOT voting for harris, even. I said that voicing uncritical support for kamala harris made her campaign feel like they weren’t going to lose significant support amongst the lefter leaning voters, because most of y’all jumped in with glee. You are also part of the problem because you try and shut down any criticism with this absolutely moronic take—“oh, is trump gonna be better? Is that what you want???”. You fail to see you are completely and utterly a victim of your own moral cowardice and nationalistic fear. You are supposed to demand your vote be earned, you insufferable motherfuckers. THEY NEED TO BE MADE TO FEEL LIKE IF THEY DONT CHANGE ON THIS ISSUE, IT COULD COST THEM THE ELECTION. They only care about your vote BEFORE they get into office!!!!!!!! If you don’t threaten them with your vote, you approve of their actions. It’s that simple.

“I’m all for supporting other people in other countries.” Your Democratic Party is melting them alive and decimating them into pieces of unrecognizable flesh with our bombs. You people fucking disgust me. Wake the fuck up. You are voting without conscience. You are voting without empathy and without intelligence. I wish I could have the patience in me to describe this to you in gentle words that would not turn you away from me but if 40,000+ dead people at our hands is not enough to change your mind then I don’t know what the fuck is.

People in our country are dying because of Biden too. Thousands have lost their rights to abortion and HRT under his administration. Change is not going to magically happen because we vote a different person into office. I wish y’all could see that. I wish Trump didn’t scare y’all so bad, because then you might be able to care about others. I’m not scared of him! I’ve lived with “project 2025” batshit religious “policies” in my own fucking house lol. Maybe that’s the difference between you and me. Or maybe it’s that you see dead children and it doesn’t bother you because they’re brown, and they don’t speak English, and they’re not you. I can’t save you if you’re coming to yell at a random person’s inbox on tumblr. You just have a lot of soul searching to do.

For wasting my time you should write a letter to Harris and demand she change her stance on Palestine by threatening your vote or you should donate to one of the campaigns on the vetted fundraiser’s list. That’s what I suggest you do, for your first question.

[cod-dump]

AHH HIHI

I am here yet again with Phoenix angst <3

(This is literally me resending the last one cause idk if tumblr ate it 😭 I’m also totally adding stuff to it cause it is eating my brain)

So, Phoenix comes comes back from a mission with 141 where he got shot in the leg because he was kind of maybe captured by the enemy.

How was he captured? Wonderful question, my friend. A group of the enemy was getting a little too close to where Soap and Gaz were hiding, so he ran out and caused a little distraction. Said distraction got him shot in the leg and dragged away.

Blah blah, rescue mission, all that jazz. Well, 141 gets back to base, and they all yell at Phoenix for being so careless. Phoenix is all like, “Bitch what? Any of y’all would have done the same and then been commended for being so selfless.”

Our boys would be shell shocked because Phoenix never yells, let alone at them. So, he’d take that opportunity to call them all assholes and hobble his way to his room and pack some stuff up before going to the Shadows base. He walks most of the way (stubborn bastard) but gets stopped by Graves, who just so happened to have been driving by that area.

Graves picks Phoenix up, who’s crying and refusing to tell him anything, and takes him back to base.

Phoenix doesn’t say anything to most of the Shadows, opting to go over and hug Moose for a little bit before dragging the poor man to his bedroom for cuddles. Yes, Phoenix has a bedroom for when he visits. Graves makes sure that it’s taken care of

Anywayyyyy, the 141 boys go to check on him after he doesn’t come out of his room for dinner, and find the room completely empty. What little belongings that Phoenix had were gone. They freak out a little and try to call him, but his phone buzzes on the bed. He left it there so they couldn’t track him, which he tells them with a note next to the phone.

Said note also tells them to fuck off and leave him alone for a while. Meanwhile, Phoenix is stuck in a cuddle pile with Moose and some other Shadows while he tells them about what 141 did and the fact that it made him cry

Let’s just say the Shadows are going to kill Price the next time they see him, which is sooner than they thought because Price goes and visits Graves to talk about something (cough get fucked into the bed cough)

OKAY I’m gonna leave it there because this is long enough as is 😭

Thank you for humoring my idiocy

-🔥

Every Shadow who knows Phoenix is on alert mode. Phoenix is hurt, he’s upset— They’re upset, they’re protective.

Moose has pulled out the most comfortable blankets he has, the Shadows are piling into the room to be close to Phoenix. Graves was with them for a good while but left when Price showed up. It didn’t take long for them to get into a loud argument over what happened. Everyone knows Graves does not fuck around when it comes to one of his people.

Phoenix may have left but he’s still very much a part of the family. And no one fucks with Graves’ family. Price had never seen Graves this angry, and he’s never seen that kind of look in Moose’s eyes before.

[bengiyo]

Sing My Crush: Men Need to Be Angry Sometimes

Now that episodes 5 and 6 of Sing My Crush have aired, I finally feel like I have the confidence and timing to write this post. I’m not sure how many men are in Tumblr BL fandom watching and writing along with us, but it often feels like there’s less than ten of us. As such, there are times when these guys express intense emotions that the (femme) fandom at large seems to struggle with that make perfect sense for me, particularly when it comes to anger.

The most notable recent example of my breaking with fandom reactions happened with Episode 10 of La Pluie with Phat’s explosion in the rain confrontation and aftermath. I thought that Phat’s betrayal and hurt came through loudly, and I totally understood him finally losing his cool after being dicked around by Saengtai for multiple years. Others struggled with this and turned on Phat. Today, I want to talk about Han Baram and Im Hantae and Hantae’s choice to take Baram to a boxing gym to vent out his frustrations.

Quite a bit happens in this episode in terms of the broad spectrum of male feeling. With Sangin, you get his need for control and power. He is cruel in every interaction and physically throws Baram into a wall to yell in his face.

He derides Hantae and diminishes the support he’s given Baram for years.

With Jeong Pal, we get him crying and despondent over Baram’s decision to leave them. He is allowed to be upset, and all Hantae asks is that they try to trust Baram.

Baram is so sad for me because he’s always holding so much of his feelings inside. I love Baram’s confession to Hantae in this episode because it feels not too dissimilar to the first love song he wrote: Letter of Apology. He feels like his feelings are a burden to others and that he is inconveniencing them. He doesn’t even wait around to let Hantae process what’s going on, like many of his K-BL brethren recently (Looking at you Our Dating Sim and Individual Circumstances!).

Finally, we get to In Hamtae. After all the awful things that have gone down this episode, he is so gentle with Han Baram before taking him to the boxing gym.

He leads him by the hand to a seat and gently wraps his hands for him even as you can see he’s still pissed with Han Baram the whole time. He even takes a moment to laugh and call Baram cute while putting on the headgear.

Once they finally get to the boxing ring, he gives Baram a literal shove to get his emotions out so he can finally vent his frustrations. He tells Baram to envision his right hand and Jin Sangin and his left hand as Im Hantae. He sees the uncertainty in Baram’s eyes, and reassures him that he envisions punching Baram’s face all the time and to not overthink it. He cheers Baram on as he finally starts to punch with force. We even get to hear Baram’s exertions as he’s finally letting out his feelings.

Y’all, when I tell you I started to cry so hard as Baram finally got to audibly express some of his frustrations. He needed to be mad. He deserved to be mad. What Sangin did to him was cruel. He ruined Baram’s first confession. He made him feel weird and undesirable. He later stole his goddamned song from him. He threatened him if Baram tried to fight back in any way. Baram needed to express that anger. It isn’t always going to be pretty, and I love that Im Hantae gave him a space to do that.

Still, we’re not done. Im Hantae makes them switch places, and he’s practiced at this. He says all of the feelings that are on his mind:

If you go to Highcode Entertainment, what about our band?

What about our dream?

What about me?

You’re so bad. How could you have confessed in that way?

That’s why you got dumped.

Then he throws the gloves at Han Baram, who asks such a heartbreaking question: “Why is it so tiring to like someone? What did I do wrong?” Im Hantae hugs him, and Han Baram is finally starting to push back on how others make him feel when he chides Hantae for how hard he hit him. Hantae assures him that he did nothing wrong and the two of them end up resting on the floor of the gym together in a shot that definitely came from the source material.

I just absolutely love that the final scenes of this episode are about how righteous it is for Baram and Hantae to be angry and upset about the things that have happened, including the things they might have done to each other. Men feel the full gamut of emotions, and anger is one of those. Sometimes that anger comes out explosively, and often it’s ugly. It is so important to me that we earnestly engage with men’s anger in a genre about close, personal relationships. We often get angry on behalf of characters that are being done wrong, and I think it’s so important that we interrogate the kinds of anger we allow characters to express in our shows.

With these two, there’s something so special about the tenderness Hantae showed Baram before, during, and after the boxing sequence to make sure Baram finally let out his own frustrations and hurt.

[im-out-of-it]

season 2, episode 2 “a door into the dark” part five I think

130. magnus did not say that Simon lmao

131. anyone would be lucky to have Magnus as their sponsor- I mean mentor- FRIEND

132. well Valentine has killed an innocent wolf but that took care of simons other problem

133. MY ALEC

134. next Alec will be fighting for his life all because jace chose to leave. MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE

135. here are some I probably forgot

136. I’ve saved two of these drafts and THEY KEEP DISAPPEARING STOP IT TUMBLR

137. but I do want to state how much I love the show versions of almost everyone but not CLACE- though they are better than their show counterparts

138. the friendship Magnus has with Raphael and Simon is so sweet. it’s nice that Alec has a voice most of the time and that Izzy received more love and storylines and purpose. I love that Maia also got more screen time as well 💓 and I cannot wait to see her

139. I’ll probably end it here because I’m so tired of trying to remember what I wrote smh but here are some Alec and Izzy appreciation (I FUCKING LOVE THEM)

140. I don’t know what episode this is but I love the same exact eye roll and family trait

AND ALSO THIS BECAUE SERIOUSLY ALEC (I forgot the first one and how I feel and have and clary when they talk plus exist and have is dead to all of us lmao)

okayyyyyyyy so 140 was the number and thank you for joining why do they make Alec suffer and why can’t jace and clary just stay away debate and discussion and list time thing!!!!!!! and I seriously have to finish this because my cat is yelling at me 😭 but I’ll try to do the next one aka Alec almost dies for a worthless jace in a couple days 💓 thank you again to anyone who reads what I post. y’all don’t know what it means to me 😌🥹

GIVE MY MAN ALEC AND MAGNUS A BREAK