#also i hope im not coming off as weird but its hitting me now that i wont be able to create and im like trying to hold back tears lol

[squeakadeeks]

im gonna. yartz. my sewing machine finally broke. honestly it was a pretty bad machine, one of the models that was super flimsy like the ez-bake oven equivalent of a sewing machine. one of the plastic parts warped and wont fit with the other cogs anymore.

so uuuhhhhhhhh hope you guys have been liking. my weird bad art cause thats literally all i will be able to do for a w h i l e

[seilon]

pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah

con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

[candyje11yfish]

ty! \(^_^)/ feelin good so ill try answer in detail for ya!!!! 

most of the time i just do basic cell shading. here ill explain my rendering process after i choose my base colours, ill try keep it short & sweet!! nvm warning buckle up its really super long.

flat colours -> fully shaded!!

⭐️Picking shading colours!

usually it's just the base colour with +saturation OR a hue shift! i dont really lower brightness.

This is what i mean by HSB, i never use the colour wheel i prefer the sliders!!!

i like my art to look super colourful so i do things like shading pink with blue instead of with a darker pink or red, as shown in the above callie piece.

examples ft lumity:

skin: i always keep it very simple & cartoony! over the nose, below the eyes, the neck & sometimes the tips of the ears is where i'll put shading

hair: as u can See, it's not darker than the base colour at all!! for dark hair like luz's, i brighten & saturate the colour, and for light hair like amity's i just shift the hue a little!

⭐️more kewl tips:

colourpick from yourself!!!! instead of making a new colour for everything, try using a colour u already have down!!!! like below: by limiting my colour palette, it looks more harmonious

really messy image but i hope u get what i mean. also the "off white / black" thing is a separate choosing base colours thing!! i can expand on that if anyone's interested 😙

shove halftones in wherever they fit. here are the 2 pngs i use!! there a rlly good alt to gradients, i used a LOT of them in that callie piece!!! clipping mask over where u want it & alpha lock to change colour.

⭐️here's a WHERE i put the shading:

look st the environment ur guy is in!! pick where your light source is coming from & look where that light will hit and where it is blocked by something.

bounce light: the sun's light is also shining on the grass! so powerful the green reflects right back!

this is kinda more realistic lighting now.

i kinda just put a circle wherever theres a corner!

and i put that Beautiful Shape a lot wherever. i change it a little depending on the character, sometimes its triangular or squarey but thats the base shape! i dont even know what its called but i love it.

look at this hello weird shape guy!!!

actually, my grandfest art are probably some of the most detailed art i have! u can see urself where i put shading & stuff - they do have more desaturated colour palettes though:

& here are some additional examples ^_^ flat colour -> shaded -> multiply layer -> lighting

in this one u can see the hand & leg at the back are completely in shadow too :)

anyway i think that's kinda it? i dont really know how to explain it, i just do what feels & looks right to me??? remember that im Not an expert & this is just how i do things :)

i will always repeat my no1 tips tho: keep drawing!!! and copy ur fave artists!!!!!! it really will hell u find what u like!!!!!!!!!!!!

i hope this post helps a little & answers ur question😇 never be shy to ask me anything cuz i love answering & chattin w u guys!!!!

EDIT: just saying these arent set rules or anything!!!! u can see just how many times i Dont follow my own advice LOL. my artstyle is super inconsistent, i rarely draw things the same every time

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is. 

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

 The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back.  He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”  

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

[drvscarlett]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

Pierre Gasly x ex!reader

Summary: The 4 times that they break up and get back together and that 1 time they didn't.

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: im on a roll with updating the Tortured Drivers Department now that im nearly done with every reqs. I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think or feel about this

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"

Pierre and Y/N are the type of people that is confusing to talk about. No one really knows the big deal between the two of them, are they friends or are they lovers? One minute everything is all good, they are about to go to the store and pick out rings then the next thing that you know they already broke up. What was constant was that they always find their way back to each other.

Maybe it’s the lifestyle that makes it work; Pierre is a famous F1 driver that travels the world most of the year while Y/N is a grand recluse of a writer that is trying to find her way to the market. They don’t need much time from each other, and they understand the busy structure of their work.

Maybe its also the fact that they have years of friendship backing them up that's why they were able to last long with each others antics. So, what happened to them?

I.

The first kind of break ups were pretty silly. It was usually something that could be fixed in a matter of hours or a day being away from each other. Its something very random and weird like this.

"Wait, so you are breaking up with me because you are writing?"Pierre was confused.

Pierre had been in relationships before but he has never once heard of someone wanting to break up with him because she has to meet a certain deadline.

He felt very whiplash by the whole situation because she was just kissing him and they were cuddling in bed in the morning. Now she wants to break up with him.

"Yes Pierre, I need to be in my most heartbroken self to write my best lines"Y/N confirms.

"So does this mean that once you finish this thing you are working on then we can get back together?"Pierre clarifies.

Y/N nods as she brings out her working laptop and a notebook.

"So should I say something mean or should I just leave you be to your senses?"Pierre wondered.

"Do you really wanna break up with me so badly?"Y/N had too much of Pierre's question

Pierre raised his hands in defeat.

"Okay then lets break up"

Pierre headed straight back to his room to allow Y/N to work on her things. He chuckles at himself with the weird antics of his girlfriend, (or should he say ex girlfriend) but he busies himself with some emails that he has from work.

It took Y/N two days before she comes crawling to their shared bed. Pierre was in a sleepy state when Y/N snuggled to his arms.

"Are you done?"Pierre wondered.

"Yeah,just passed my manuscript"Y/N agrees.

"Can I call you my girlfriend again?"

II.

Qualifying was extremely difficult today with Pierre taking p15. To make matters worse there was this pressing issue that Pierre might be axed from the team. It honestly frustrated him to the point that he was only doing sim work, training, and more training.

It worries Y/N a great deal especially when Pierre seems so out of it.

"Pierre c'mon get some rest" Y/N begged.

It was already 2 in the morning and there was still a race tomorrow but he insisted on hitting the gyms to train.

"You are going to be exhausted later during the race if you keep doing this"Y/N reminds.

"I don't care, I have to work hard"

"Pierre please listen to me"

"You're the one who is not listening to me"Pierre snaps "Don't you realize that I have the possibility to lose everything that I have worked hard for if they cut me off the team."

Y/N was in shock with the sudden outburst and if Pierre was in his usual self then he would have immediately apologized for raising his tone. But Pierre was far from thinking clearly.

"Pierre that was not nice"

"Nothing is ever nice in this world"scoffs Pierre.

"Look I'm just trying to help you he-"

"You know what, why not just break up with me so I can focus on my thing without anyone nagging" Pierre suggested.

She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and threatening to fall. But her mother did not raise her cry over a stupid boy like this.

"You're really going there huh" Y/N said "See if I care"

With a slam of the door, Y/N was gone and Pierre felt even more antsy than ever. It wasn't the fact that he has a messed up weekend but he has the possibility of messing up a good relationship because of his blind rage.

In a couple of hours despite Y/N implying that she didn't care, she was at the race patiently waiting for the lights to go out. It was difficult for her to just leave Pierre especially when he is in this state of mind.

But of course, Y/N's pride was something that she holds dear that is why she didn't show up to Pierre's garage. It is kind of weird to see the crowd of yellow and black colors but Y/N was so glad that she has Isa by her side to join her during the race.

"Never gets easier to let him go for races huh"Y/N comments as she watched Isa putting on Carlos' helmet.

"Well, I'm sure he tries his best to be careful on the track" Isa smiled.

"Why aren't you giving any pre-race goodluck kisses to Pierre? He might need it" Carlos suggested.

Y/N could just roll her eyes, Pierre wasn't superstitious like that.

"Okay laugh all you want but don't make me say I told you so if he gets involved in an accident"Carlos warns.

"Don't mind Carlos, he is just joking"Isa shrugs it off.

"But Isa, its true remember when-"

"Stop stressing Y/N out Carlos, go race and be safe"

"Aye aye"

Y/N watched the playful interaction before the couple parted ways. The scene struck a chord in her heart because she knew that she could never act that way with Pierre. Their whole relationship was a secret that only the grid knows Y/N is off limits. But outside the grid, no one knows about it. Fans equate them as close friends but never more than that.

"What's on your mind honey?"Isa asked

"Nothing Isa, I'm okay"

Y/N showed a weak smile and Isa was hesitant to press things but she just let friend be.

"Look the race is starting"Y/N diverts.

The sound of the engines filled the air and off the cars go. Y/N watched as everyone gets off with a decent start, she could only hope that there was no incident today especially for Pierre's sake.

Everything happened all of a sudden as white smoke filled the air and a loud collision was heard. The cameras were quick to pan to the accident and the two girls clutched each other's hands as the smoke clears.

"It's Nico, its not Carlos" someone from the garage reassured Isa and the girl could feel a sigh of relief.

However, the same cannot be said to Y/N as the frustrated team radio of Pierre can be heard and the familiar livery was seen in the middle of the wreck.

Any amount of pride or memory of what he said last night was suddenly thrown out of the window. She just wants to know how he is or if he is safe from that tragic collision.

"Y/N, they're going to check on Nico" Isa pointed out to some Renault people "You should probably go since Pierre would be there too"

Y/N was about to deny that she didn't want to see him but Isa had a stern look on her face.

"Just go honey"

And she comes running to the medical bay to look for the injured man. She was a bit thankful that precautions have been made in this sports that allowed drivers to walk away from such accident without major damages.

Maybe, a bruised ego is their biggest worry now.

"Y/N"Pierre was confused to see her.

Maybe the damage has been far more worse than he imagined because he was now seeing things. As far as he could recall, Y/N was not around when the race started. So how is she here?

"God, you scared me P"Y/N wrapped him in a hug.

Pierre was a little bit sore from the crash but there was this instant warm feeling knowing that Y/N didn't abandon him. Even if he was really moody and too shitty, Y/N was still there for him.

He remembers how terrible it was being in that car and thinking that the last memory he shared with Y/N is a bad one. He didn't feel great at all so he held her as if its his second chance.

"I didn't mean what I said last night"Pierre whispered "I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings. I wasn't thinking straight and there is just a lot of pressure-"

"It's okay, I know Pierre"Y/N consoles "I won't be leaving you anytime soon"

A chaste kiss was shared between the two of them, a symbol that they have reunited once more.

III.

The third time they broke up was when Pierre asked her hand for marriage and she didn't say anything.

After being constantly invited to weddings, Pierre is bound to pick up some courage to ask Y/N out. He developed this dream that he wants a life with Y/N and he is ready to take it to the next level. Knowing Y/N, he picked the right size and the perfect ring. He also knows her dream proposal place which is somewhere with a view of the city.

He had everything planned out perfectly so imagine his surprise when she answers.

"Pierre, I can't do this" Y/N dropped the bomb.

"What? Why?"

Y/N felt like an extreme asshole because everything was perfect. Any girl would say yes to this prime opportunity of marrying their childhood bestfriend but Y/N sees through things.

"Pierre we aren't even official to the public and now you want to escalate it to marriage" Y/N reasons.

"So that's it, you don't want to marry me because I can't call you mine in public?"

"It's not just that" Y/N sighs "but our careers are just taking off and we haven't talked about our relationship yet and suddenly were going to go to marriage"

What Y/N saying was valid but Pierre was not listening to any of it. He felt very crushed and he could not think straight at the moment.

"Let's just break up if you can't see a future with me"

"Pierre, you know that's not what I meant"

"Then tell me how would you feel if the person you truly loved didn't want to marry you"Pierre roared.

It was a devastating scene between the two of them. How Y/N wished that she could undo what she said a few minutes ago but she knows that she only means well. A rushed marriage will also lead to rush separation and she will not put herself to that.

"Let's break up then, I think its best if we go our seperate ways for the time being"Pierre concludes.

It took them three long weeks before they got back together. It was due to an intervention by Charles that allowed them to speak again and talk their differences. Pierre has been more understanding now and heard Y/N's point out.

They got back together but it felt like there is a huge crack that took a heavy blow with their relationship.

IV.

Y/N had a terrible day at work with her manuscript being asked to be revised by her publisher. All she needs was a good rest and possibly some cuddles with Pierre. She prays as she twist the doorknob that Pierre was not in his one of his moods.

"Mon amour"Pierre called out "I was waiting for you"

Pierre can cook but it doesn't mean that he does it often. It was a good surprise for Y/N to see the dinner table set with all of her favorite dishes and an array of fresh flowers in a bouquet. She eyes the man warily as she takes a seat

"I didn't miss any important dates, didn't I?" Y/N asked.

"Is it bad that I wanted to do something special for you?"

In other days, she would want to argue about it but for today she didn't want to do any of that. She had no energy to question Pierre's weird behavior and she just wants to enjoy the dinner with him.

It was a lovely dinner but Y/N knows that Pierre was hiding something from her. As she was putting away the plates, she knew that she had to get an answer or she may fall asleep overthinking things.

"What is going on P, I'm actually scared you did something stupid that's why you are buttering me up so much"

Pierre lets out a heavy sigh, they knew each other too well that they can't really keep a secret with each other.

"My PR talked to me today and they wanted to announce a relationship to help my whole image"Pierre confesses.

Articles are very easy to miss but as a writer, Y/N knows how a different usage of an article changes the meaning of the sentence. Pierre used "a" rather than "the" which means he is not referring to their relationship.

"Who is it?"Y/N wondered

"She's a model, her name is Caterina" Pierre explained.

There was a heavy silence in the room as Y/N dried out the dishes. She knew that this was all because she was not very marketable due to her timid personality. She was not even famous for her books so that's another reason. Bottom line, they can't announce her because she seems very different from Pierre and she is not the WAG material.

"How long?"

Y/N was used to this kind of treatment. She felt like she accepted this as long as she can get to keep Pierre at the end of this whole thing. People would think she is crazy but love makes people do crazy things.

"Just 6 months and its over"Pierre answered.

It was also very difficult for Pierre's end. He have tried to lobby that he wanted to announce his relationship with Y/N but he is held by a contract. If he decides to deviate then he might lose his seat.

He knows how difficult it was to ask her for this but he had no choice.

"I'll get packing then and I'll move out in the next few days"Y/N mumbles.

Pierre stopped her for leaving and held her tightly. She instantly melts in his hold and she easily reminds herself why she puts up with all of this.

"I love you, don't you forget that"

The world moved with Caterina being announced as Pierre's girlfriend. However, they didn't know that after 6 months then Pierre is back to Y/N's arms. It was always Y/N and Pierre even if the world can't see it.

V.

It started with a normal dinner reservation.

Y/N has been promised by Pierre that he will take her out for dinner. They both understand that the past few weeks has been tiring for the two of them with the stress of racing, writing, and personal issues. The dinner is a nice way to reconnect with each other.

However, here she was already an hour waiting for Pierre to show up.

The hour goes from two to three and by the fourth hour, she decided that she will just go home. She have felt upset with Pierre before but this was a different kind of upset. It's not something to be fixed by flowers, vacations, or any of those stupid letters he does.

She reaches their shared apartment and started packing her stuffs. Her mind was already made up and this time it was going to last. The relationship was doomed to failure anyways.

And just before she finished packing, Pierre stumbles in.

"Y/N, do you have a schedule tonight?"Pierre asked.

He was met with silence as the writer ignores him.

"Oh c'mon what did I do wrong this time?"Pierre complains "Sit and talk with me Y/N"

Pierre could only stop Y/N by bringing all her packed clothes out of her suitcase. Something that heavily irritated Y/N, which caused her to finally speak.

"Can you just let me pack in peace"Y/N begged.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong"Pierre stops "Do you have a flight somewhere? Maybe I could drive you"

"You don't have to drive me Pierre"

"Then what's going on, I arrive here and you are fuming there-"

"You made me fucking wait four hours"Y/N snapped.

Pierre racked his brains for anything that he missed and he suddenly remembered how he reserved dinner with her. He felt like all the color drained on his face.

"Don't do this, I'll make it up to you Y/N" there was a desperation in Pierre's voice.

"I can't, we can't keep doing this P"Y/N admits it "We keep on breaking up and then making up then we act like this is a healthy relationship. We can't do this"

Strong arms wrapped around Y/N's waist and she could feel the wetness on her shoulders as Pierre buried his face there. It was proving more and more difficult for Y/N to leave him.

"I have to do this P, for you and for me"she remains firm.

"Tell me you don't love me"Pierre refuses to let go.

And Y/N cannot admit that because she knows she will always love Pierre. But she was scared that in loving Pierre so much then she may not have any love left for herself. She doesn't know what to do if she loses Pierre so its best if she will be the one to let go of him first.

"I'm sorry Pierre"

With a heavy heart, she removes the him away from her. She picks up her bags and closes the door. She left without taking a look back at the man she has loved from childhood till now because she knows that the moment she sees him then all form of control she has will evaporate.

And everything was two years ago. Here is Y/N with her third best-selling novel book signing tour. Sometimes she likes to think that she lost Pierre to be able to write the books that made her extremely famous. Most of the times, she wishes it never happened because she would rather have Pierre than these best selling novels.

It was her first time in Europe for work. She was often here to watch and support Pierre from the sideline. She never thought that she will be back in Europe so loved and so adored.

But it seems like destiny has a way of messing things up.

"Hi! What's your name?"she greets the woman in front of her.

Even though it has been a long day, she managed to master the art of keeping a perfect smile. She understands how the fans have been waiting in line for so long and she has to give them the best experience as she signs their book.

"My name is Kika, I'm a huge fan of yours" the woman introduced.

Y/N looked up to take a look at her. Kika had a dazzling smile and has this certain aura that exudes her charmingness. Y/N felt that she should be the one asking for Kika's signature because she looks like a stunning goddess.

"I really love the way you write things and I used to read it with my boyfriend when he is not racing"Kika narrates.

Racing, its been a while since Y/N heard that. She completely cuts off that certain topic ever since she left Pierre.

"Oh that sounds like a fantastic way to bond as a couple"Y/N agrees

"Yeah and actually my boyfriend told me that he knows you. I was actually wondering if he is joking but I figured that maybe he is"

There was this sinking feeling in her heart but Y/N would like to think that she made some friends in the F1 grid so this may be their girlfriend. Or maybe her boyfriend is bluffing.

"He races? In what kind of race"Y/N asked,she was careful.

"Oh he does Formula 1, his name is-"

"Kika mon amour"

Y/N didn't have to hear the voice twice to know who that voice belongs to. She knows that voice very well and she couldn't believe her rotten luck.

"Pierre, we were just talking about you"Kika embraces Pierre.

Pierre was shifting nervously and Y/N suddenly realized that Kika doesn't know anything about the shared history between the two of them.

"Oh so you are Pierre's new girl" Y/N knew how to act "I'm so pleased to meet you and yes I know Pierre from childhood"

"See mon amour, I was not lying"Pierre teased.

"So you do know her, we should definitely set up a lunch or dinner together"Kika exclaimed "I can't believe that my favorite author is your childhood friend"

She has that bright and genuine smile on her face. It was that certain genuineness that Y/N makes her heart crack. Why did she have to be so sweet and kind, its so difficult to fault her of anything.

"Y/N is one of the best authors, I know" Pierre proudly states "She has a way of tugging hearts"

"Indeed she has, I remember that when I first started reading one of your series I was so hooked and I wanted to pattern my dream partner to how you write the character of.."Kika babbles.

And everything felt like fading in the background. But Y/N didn't miss how Pierre was looking at Kika so lovingly and so endearing while Kika was rambling excitedly. The heart that was once healed was getting torn up once more because of what's happening in front of her.

[thecynthh]

STARSTURNS - M.S

summery - going out to a concert with one of y/n friends, a weird turn is taken when matt makes a move.

notes - SMUT, ROCKSTAR MATTY POOOOO, guys im a virgin idk how sex works MADE FOR MY GIRLY @ihrtchris love u girl hope the wait was worth it <3 NOT PROOFREAD

a/n - guys it looked longer than it is i promise

also the bolded parts during the concert means its the song lyrics, also i love this song

-----------------------------------

-----------------------------------

the bustling noises of a busy kitchen fill my ears as i hear people shout and flames crackle. “so i think i'll have a sweet tea and a number 6 please.” i ask the waiter as she takes my order. 

“of course ma’am and for you?” cadence’s eyes swept over the whole menu again before speaking. 

“lemonade and a number 2 please!” the waiter nodded towards us and walked off to the kitchen. 

“hey are you busy tonight? i’m free and have nowhere to go, was hoping you knew about a party or something later.” i knew cay would know about any parties happening tonight, she was an epic journalist and worked for the editorial company i was at. 

“hm, come to think of it, no, i don’t think so. didn’t get an invite, i guess all the famous people are taking a break from being bitchy and petty.” i laugh at her statement about the rich and famous, we’ve met countless celebrities and models and almost all of them were like cay said, bitchy and petty. 

“come onnnn the one night i'm free from work and there’s nothing happening.” i drop my head dramatically on the table, careful not to hit the ketchup and mustard. 

“well….” cadence trailed off.

“well what???” i almost break my neck looking up at her. 

“i mean i saw a poster for this band, and they are playing at pacific square if you wanna go watch it, im down if you are.” cadence offered. 

“a concert? im not sure, i mean if the guys are cute” i joked. 

“ouh girl, i sure can tell you they are so hot.” she pulls out her phone looking through her photos. she taps on it and shows it to me. oh shit. they were really hot. 

the one thing that cay forgot to mention was that the band that was playing in our home town was starsturns. “WAIT! you mean starsturns is playing here??”

“okay, im convinced, i think i just found my husband.” i practically threw cay’s phone back to her, feeling a small piece of drool develop on the corner of my mouth looking at the drummer. 

“show starts at 8 i’ll be at your house with the uber.” cay says slipping her phone back into her pocket 

“holy shit i can’t believe we are going to see starsturns!!!” 

the ding of a bell goes off and we see the waiter sway towards us with our plates of food. i guess i have plans tonight. 

------------------------------

getting to the venue was a little troubling due to the death inducing trafic we were stuck in but cay is very much a hardass so when we did get to the venue she shoved her way to the front. 

“move your asses, two super fans over here!!!” cay’s enthusiasm scares people which lets us pass through sort of easily. 

being right at the rails that has to be only a metre away from the stage gets me riled up, we hear the curtains draw and and the stage lights get low. 

the sun just started to set and the neon flashes of their large stage lights flicker at the audience. the leader singer and lead guitarist chris looks behind him peering over his shoulder to the audience. the girls yelled and shouted, he was definitely a lady killer. 

chris began strumming his guitar in a steady pace as his brother nick, on the bass, keeps a steady beat emerging from the shadows. 

a slow rhythm on the drums begin to build up, slowly getting faster and with each tap of the snare the lights get brighter, and brighter. 

matt is revealed to the fans in such an epic way as the fans, including me and cadence goes crazy. 

the crash of matt’s cymbals begins their set list as their first song begins. 

time seemed to have lasted forever as they now have moved to a couple of slower songs that are more lyric focused. i throw my head back as i belt the lyrics living in pure harmony. this was my favourite song and i wanted to soak up every moment. 

chris noticed and waved a hand towards cadence and i letting security know to let us onto the stage. i shake cadence to snap her out of her little trance and yank her to the small stairs that lead up the stairs, a smile graces chris’ face as we run up to him. 

cay takes his hand as he spins her around, i stand back trying not to get hit by her long hair. i try to cover my mouth as i giggle a little seeing her have her moment with her favourite group member. i start skipping around the stage still keeping up with the song soon coming up to nick as he keeps his eyes on me as his bass still continues strumming. 

i lock eyes with matt, coming over to the back of his drum kit and wrapping my arms around his neck, 

“i dont wanna lose you now, 

im looking right at the other half of me” 

i sang my heart out as i hug matt while he kept his hand and foot trained on the instrument. he detaches the mic that was for his vocals and passes it to me, im a little shocked by his action but understand what he wants from me. 

i take the mic and start to sing. 

“show me how to fight for now,

and i tell you baby it was easy”

i felt alive. my idols and i sing this song with our hearts. i belt and add accents to my voice and really feel myself in the song. i bring the mic down to matt as we both sing into the mic as chris and matt begin to chant “you are, you are the love of my life” underneath my vocals letting me take the lead on the song. 

“you are my reflection, and all i see is you”

the song ends and i’m panting from using an excessive amount of air for singing and from prancing around. matt and my eyes never leave each other caught up in the moment. 

“give it up to y/n and cadence for singing this song with us!” chris yells into the mic. he holds up his signature rock n’ roll sign showing it to the fans, “thank you guys for coming out here tonight! love you all, have a good night!” with the last echo of his message to the fans the curtains move down and everything but the crowd lights turn off, still providing light for those going home. 

i hop down from matt’s little stage leaving the microphone i’ve been using on a table that was next to matt and meet up with cay at the front of the stage. 

cay was engaged in a conversation with nick and chris, talking to them like they’ve been friends since forever. 

“oh my gosh, thank you for letting us up on stage like that chris!” i knew cay was fangirling underneath her cool calm and collected front. 

don’t get me wrong, chris is very attractive, but simply not my type. i didn’t feel as strongly about him as i did with matt. 

“oh come on you guys are great singers! especially you y/n.” chris says as i walk over, i feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me with that compliment. 

“ah- thank you but it’s getting late, cay call an uber i’ll meet you by the gates in a second, just gotta run to the bathroom. 

i pat my pockets checking for my phone that wasn’t there. i make a quick run to matt checking his whole set up for it. when i pick it up i immediately get caught in someone’s hand. 

matt’s muscular hand grips my bare arm causing all my attention to look up to the man above me. “hey,” his voice is lower so his brothers don’t hear. “we are staying at a hotel tonight then sightseeing tomorrow, we’ll be in town for a night or two. we thought we’d visit our parents and take in the home town scene again before we travel again. was wondering if you wanted to come with me to our hotel.” 

“you can come to my house-“ i blurt out. “m-more privacy and it’s not that far from here or whatever your hotel is. i can get you back there just in time for your brothers to wake up…”

“ah, sounds like a plan, we just gotta take our equipment to our bus then i’ll meet you there, how does twelve sound?” he nods understanding my intentions. 

“uh yeah! sounds good, wait lemme give you my numb-“ 

“oh doll, don’t worry about that, gotta be a little careful with who you leave your phone around,” he winks as his grip on me loosens and falls. 

i almost ran out of the venue, finding cadence and the uber waiting outside on the street. “girl come on!” she waves me in letting the uber driver know where we were going. 

i close the door behind me gripping my hands very hard on my phone. cay rests and hand atop mine and looks at me with concern. “hey, what’s up?” 

“matt just- matt- matt invited me to their hotel.. but now we are meeting at my house at twelve.” my eyes are trained on the headrest in front of me. 

“YOU WHAT, HE- HE WHAT????” cay starts freaking out as much as i would’ve if i hadn’t been in such a state of shock. 

“yuuuup,” the uber slows down getting stopped close to my house. “i have his number in my phone, he said he was going to come when i text him my address.” i open my car door seeing as we’ve stopped right in front of my house. 

“all the details tomorrow morning at work !!” she yells as i exit the car, waving thank you to the driver from outside the car i walk to my house to finally freak out. 

WHAT THE FLYING FUCK was i doing?? no way am i about to have a one night stand with the drummer of sturnstars, one of my favourite bands  

i pull my phone out of my pocket to see a new contact that was put in named “hot drummer” with a new number. 

y/n 

you shared your location with “hot drummer”

hot drummer (matt s)

otw!

not too long after i hear the doorbell ring throughout my house and i quickly rush to my front door. taking a deep breath in and out i push down on the large handle seeing matt on the other side of the door. 

matt leans on the side of my door frame looking as delicious as ever. “hey” a smirk grows on his face as he scans my body. the black cropped long sleeve i was wearing was getting clawed at by my long done up nails. my skirt was barely covering my ass and showed a lot of my legs. 

he looked at me like i was his last meal. he launches himself off the door frame as i take him by the hand, leading him to my bedroom. 

he looks around at the posters on the wall, one including their old tour one. his finger glides across the arctic monkeys and slipknot ones. 

“so you're a fan?” he asks coming to sit next to me. 

“yeah you could say that, i’m not crazy tho, some girls are worse. if i’m being honest i didn’t even know you guys were coming here.” i say truthfully 

“so if i do this,” he leans and kisses me, sparks fly in my stomach. “you’ll be okay with it.” 

“and if this happens,” his hand undoes the clasp and zipper on my mini skirt, “you’ll be okay with it?” 

his lips touch mine as i help him moves my skirt down to the floor as i hold the hem of his shirt pulling to take it off. my long sleeve and bra meet the floor not too far after matt’s shirt. 

he manoeuvres on top of me now pressing his raging hard on top of my heat. “please matt,” i say in a whiny voice, feeling more anxious and excited. 

“please what princess?” he teases. 

“please fuck me,” my hand snakes to the nape of his neck as i pull him in for a kiss. his fingers clad with rings, slip into my panties as he makes cold contact with his thumb onto my clit, my eyes roll back feeling him circle around my hole before plunging in. 

“oh- god matt please don’t stop,” i moan feeling him pump in and out of me. a familiar knot builds and snaps quickly due to the constant stimulation. 

“mhh, come on babe, give it to me” i squeeze around his fingers hard before i cum all over his fingers. “good job baby, you did so well, you ready for me?” i nod frantically as he sticks his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself, letting me such on his two fingers while he tugs on my panties making the small fabric keeping the whole thing together come unloose. 

he's quick to undo his cargo pants letting the baggy material fall, and he tugs down his boxers letting his length spring out. i 

“what the fuck, that is not going to fit in me?!?” he laughs at my surprise, pumping up and down on his monster dick. 

“hey, i’ll take it slow, tonights ‘bout you.” he says hovering over me, “just tell me if it’s too much, alright?” he lines himself up and just puts the tip in, i arch my back in ecstasy feeling so full already. 

“fuck, matt keep going.” he takes this as an invitation to push all the way in. my moans only become more airy as he gets deeper and deeper. 

he gets more confident in his movement and keeps a steady pace, he lifts my leg, folding it by my knee, letting him hit a new spot. 

“mhhh, matt don’t stop.” his pace is steady with him constantly hitting my g-spot, “i-i-”

i couldn’t even get my sentence out before i completely collapsed underneath his arms, letting myself go. “you did such a good job pretty girl, can i cum in you?” 

“YES, yes matt please!” a slight feeling of overstimulation washes over me as matt grunts and shoots his load into me, falling onto my bed next to me. 

“ah, come on, let's get cleaned up. nick and chris are gonna be wondering where i am.” 

who knew, maybe dating a drummer isn’t that bad. 

taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem-72 @pepsiimaxx @strniolosworld

taglist is open !

[chrliekclly]

if you ever want to talk about your thoughts on joyce .. Peeks over the corner of your blog. i love talking and hearing ppls thoughts on joyce sooo much even if they're different from my own!! and your analysis and stuff is always so well thought out

i hope u dont mind if i answer this publicly to take advantage of th request nd get my ideas out ther (also tyvm im happy u like my insane takes on these idiots, iv ben thinking abt them for almost 10 years)

i said a lot here so gnna 'read more' it

iv ben building trans charlie n my head fr, like i said, nearly 10 years. i used to view him as cis bcuz i always try to take as much frm th source material as i can wen i craft my HCs nd i had v personal (stupid) hangups insofar as him explicitly referring to his junk multiple times nd bottom surgery simply not being on my radar as a naive littl trans idiot deep in th sauce tht transmen oftn fall into w phallo being viewed so so poorly

evn still i leaned towards transmasc charlie nd always lovd moments tht let me imagine, for a moment, it being true, like his discomfort w taking off his shirt [hundred dollar baby, charlie kelly: king of the rats, the gang exploits the mortgage crisis, young charlie and mac deleted scenes, etc etc etc], or bonnie yelling abt ppl stealing her "charlie-girl" [the waitress is getting married] which i lovd to see as her accidentally misgendering him while drunk off her ass.

having grown out of my phallo issues (nd if ur reading this and u still view phallo super poorly, please do some research and grow too), ive in recent years fully subscribed to transmasc/nb charlie, and view his timeline something like this:

baby -> elementary: charlie refers to himself as a boy, doesnt "come out," simply has no idea he's afab. bonnie lets him dress however he wants and refers to him as asked. when charlie gets confused about his genitals, bonnie says his dick will grow in later lol, makes charlie wear a dress in public restrooms and tells him its just a game

middle: puberty hits and charlie gets confused and scared. bonnie puts him on blockers w.o explaining them ("my mom used to vaccinate me like every month" [the gang gets quarantined]) charlie goes on content and oblivious. STP acquired because hes "a late bloomer" and his dicks still not growing in?? weird. confides this in mac once, but he doesn't understand.

high: charlie finally registers that he's trans after forgetting theres a health class 1 day and not being able to skip it. throws him for a loop a bit but he becomes actively invested in his goals. he gets to start T and wants to have surgeries. "what guy hasnt done some extensive research on his own genitalia?" [mac is a serial killer]

college (aged): able to surgically transition (ty medicare) and continues on with life as we kno him now

joyce, imo, fits neatly into these views.

as a transmasc nb who came out young nd prefers to be seen as just A Guy by strangers, i grew up v vehemently against anything girly that might get me misgendered, but th more i began to 'pass,' th more @ home n my body i felt, th more and more comfortable i am w femininity, th more i wdnt mind putting on a dress, as long as th general public wd see me as "a man in women's clothes." n my mind, i prescribe something not exactly th same but v similar to charlie.

i see charlie "i dont really identify" kelly as afab and nb. i see joyce as a "character" he originally created to distance himself from the dysphoria of putting on a dress as a young trans boy, but that became part of him as the hard lines he drew in the sand as a child became blurry with age and self acceptance. charlie's comfort with himself allows joyce to evolve into a more solid persona, one he enjoys embodying and allowing to become a permanent facet of who he is. he's ok with being referred to as either. they're both him.

so maybe joyce comes out a bit more outside of the bathroom now.

[astranite]

Love is Stored in the Pasta

Scott, John and pasta.

This started off from a tumblr post 'cause somebody needed to cook that guy some pasta!!

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, really very mild scott is hangrysad, ft john's space issues, Chronic Illness, as thats what im treating it as and its not the focus here he's just living with it, Scott Tracy has ADHD, this is important, Autistic John Tracy, lowkey here but also Important to me, this is fun and fluffy and i love them, i hope this is like a warm comforting bowl of pasta to you too

---

“We need to talk,” John said.

On the other side of the call, Scott’s hologram slumped over his desk, his head landing in his hands. “Oh God.”

“I found your search history…” John began.

Scott peered out sheepishly from behind his fingers. “I can explain!”

“It’s just pages and pages of pasta?” 

John was puzzled, honestly. Five to ten recipe blogs and that was Scott trying to decide what to make for dinner during a meeting or while he was struggling to concentrate on work. During lulls between callouts, he and John would sometimes debate options together. More than forty separate sites visited at 3:12pm on a Tuesday afternoon and Eos had flagged it for John, on suspicion that Scott’s computer had been hacked by a malicious entity or some other AI virus.

Scott went from double facepalm of despair to full on faceplant, his head hitting the desk with an audible thunk.

“Why so much pasta?” John questioned. Now his curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t let it go or he’d be doing EVA work later, still turning over possibilities in his mind, which wasn’t conducive to the constant concentration needed while floating around in the vacuum. Outside, any misstep would be your last.

“I dunno. I just feel like pasta,” Scott mumbled into the wood.

Scott sounded…weird. Like he was about to start laughing, or coming down with a cold.

“Scott? Are you okay?”

It had better not be another flu; corralling Scott to take care of himself was hard enough even if he wasn’t feverish. John wouldn’t be able to come down either, quarantined up in Five unless he already had it. Was the slight tug of a headache at his temples from his sinuses beginning to clog up too?

Scott hadn’t looked up yet; his shoulders were shaking. John wiggled his fingers anxiously.

“Scotty?”

Big brother’s head shot up at the nickname John so rarely used. Had John intended to provoke that reaction? The name had been a slip of the tongue but if he was was honest, he sort of had meant to jar Scott out of his thoughts. He never called Scott, Scotty unless he was scared though. And Scott not answering him did tick tick tick up his system from yellow alert into red.

“I’m fine, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” Scott’s words ran over each other in an attempt to come first. His voice sounded oddly wet.

Tears, yes those were indeed tears dulled by holographic format, tumbled down Scott’s cheeks.

As soon as he saw John looking, Scott turned away.

Suddenly, John landed on the spark of insight that he had a hunch would crack the code to his big brother’s distress. “Have you eaten anything all day?”

Scott dug around for tissues in a drawer of the desk and gave a half shrug. “I guess not—not really? I tried to before you say anything. Got a mouthful of breakfast in and then there was a call out. Lunch didn’t happen, there was a meeting, I had to make coffee, I ran out of time. I don’t really feel hungry though…”

That did explain a few things. It was well known family lore that Virgil and Alan got hangry, and Gords went all sad and mopey. Scott and John himself though, they got …really, unstably emotional. 

So yeah, hence the unexpected bursting into tears. John got the whole shit interoception and not even noticing if you needed to eat while you were buried in work thing; Scott was way too used to ignoring his body too. 

John took a deep breath. “Scott, and I’m one-hundred percent serious about this, do you want me to come down there and make you some pasta?”

Thunderbird Five systems whirred around John in the quiet as Scott hesitated.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “Or you don’t have to, I’ll wait, Virge’ll be doing dinner in a bit anyway.”

“Virgil won’t be up until past sunset after the hours Thunderbird Two was out yesterday and into this morning,” John said gently. “You need to eat before then.”

Nor would an overwhelmed Scott and the kitchen be a good combination at this point, and John saw the moment Scott realised this, while fidgeting with the rubix cube on his desk. 

“I want to do this for you,” John told him.

Scott dashed at his eyes, sniffled a few times and finally capitulated. “Okay. Thanks, Jay.”

John smiled and signed off, heading for the space elevator. He was usually so far away, he was right now, but it was in his power to close off that distance when he needed to and today he could use that. 

He farewelled Eos; she so often missed him but the opportunities to run the space station on her own that weren’t emergencies where he was incapacitated excited her. They showed how much he had come to trust and rely on her. Plus she got full reign of their virtual chess set.

On Earth, Scott was waiting for him as the elevator docked, his hands stuck casually in his jeans pockets but looking as pale and wobbly as John felt. His face was still tearstained.

“Hey.”

“Hey to you too.” John took a few heavy steps before throwing himself at Scott, wrapping his arms around his brother tightly, all the while careful not to knock him off balance. Scott stiffened then melted into John. 

Usually that interaction went the other way around. 

Scott used the extra height space gave John to rest his head on him without having to duck down like with everyone else. John hugged him close and comfortingly as his fingers tap tap tapped their rhythm at Scott’s shoulder. All of it meant I love you.

“Pasta time?” John said eventually.

Scott nodded silently, following when John started off towards the kitchen. The raw rock wall of the hanger was rough and vividly solid in its three dimensions, as John ran his hand along it for balance as he walked that initial part. He was touching the Earth, he was in the Earth, he was on Earth.

With cold water from the fridge dispenser and the fizzy, brightly coloured tablets shook out of their tube, John made up lidded cups of electrolyte drink for himself and Scott. John needed to be sculling the stuff perpetually to stay upright down here, and he would not be at all surprised if Scott was dehydrated too. It might to something for John’s headache, could go either way for the nausea coming on.

He put a large pot on the heat. One advantage of having a stove so high powered that it could nuke anything it touched was that any volume of water boiled fast. 

An entire packet of fettuccine got tipped into the enthusiastic cacophony of bubbles. John poked at it with a pasta scoop, regretting that he hadn’t snapped the long pieces to actually fit in better. Ah well. 

He shook in an excessive-to-anyone-not-him amount of salt with a shrug ‘cause he needed it, before having another go at separating the pasta. The pasta scoop was quite an effective implement for that, there were reasons after all it was Gordon’s favourite utensil as John remembered from previous discussions. One could also use it to mash potatoes when held vertically, if one so pleased. His second favourite was the tongs as they could be clicked like crab claws and used to pinch unsuspecting siblings. 

Scott watched from his place slumped over the kitchen bench on a stool, chewing on the ragged skin at the edge of his thumbnail. He was trying to work on a couple of screens pulled up as holomonitors, as unsuccessfully as could be expected. John came over and hopped up to sit on the bench, clipping through the projected email inbox and meeting minutes so Scott dismissed them. It was with a sigh of relief.

They smiled tiredly at each other.

The pasta! John tapped at his uniform comms watch. “Eos, set a timer for the pasta, please?” John shaved the minute that had already passed off of the box time and then another couple to ensure it wouldn’t come out mushy.

“So what sort of stuff on pasta do you feel like? There’s a good lot of options you were looking at earlier.”

“We don’t have the ingredients for most of those, I checked. No eggs and no mushrooms so no carbonara. Technically that wouldn’t be authentic carbonara though. No cream cheese. We missed this week’s supply run so we don’t even have any frozen peas!” Scott threw his hands up in the air.

“Hmmm. You feel like something creamy?”

“Yeah. Honestly at this point I’d eat anything.”

John swung his legs and tapped his fingers on the counter while he thought.

“I believe some bacon is hiding in the bottom of the freezer so that’s something. And…” he trailed of as he moved his head too fast and set off a wave of dizziness as he looked around the kitchen.

“Avocado!” Scott exclaimed.

“Avocado?”

“Funny story, we ended up with several cases of them after that rescue on that farm where we saved the whole village and nearly all their trees from catastrophic flooding. They really need eating too and there’s only so much toast you can stand.”

“I have heard theoretically of putting avo on pasta and it does sound good. Mmmm bacon and avocado, John hummed. “Worth a shot?”

Scott reached towards the fruit bowl in answer, grinning at John. “Soon we will have pasta!”

John peeled off the upper half of his uniform and tied the arms around his waist in preparation. In the subtropical summer down here he was already getting too hot and while the temperature regulation built into his suit would do its best to make up for his own body’s lack thereof, it felt weird to have everything covered up from fingertips to neck down here while he was cooking.

Scott began to giggle.

“Huh?” John said, extremely eloquently.

Scott gestured at him. 

“My suit?” Was something up with his suit? The full gloved hands and sleeves flopping about without John in them had been known to amuse the lot of them on occasion, ever since he’d used the empty suit as a phoney decoy of himself to trick Eos. It was pretty funny now no one was in mortal peril and Eos was his friend.

“Your face!” Scott exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with my face?” 

John frowned. Was it his fringe that never could survive true gravity? He hadn’t gotten freckles while he’d been down all of half an hour and inside, had he? Then he looked down.

His t-shirt had a photograph of his face printed on it, and across the chest, emblazoned in neon orange read the words ‘Space Face’, courtesy of one particular fish brother. Ah yes. That.

John sighed, resting his chin on his hand to hide the smile he couldn’t quite control. “Not exactly subtle, is it? In my defence this was the only one in my closet that was clean and you can’t exactly see it beneath my suit. It’s all Gordon’s fault anyway!”

Scott was still laughing, albeit a touch hysterically and at him, but John took it as a win regardless.

Eventually Scott grabbed himself a cutting board and knife to get to work on the avocados as John carefully slipped off the bench, steadying himself on the counter as his ankles went noodley so he could handle the bacon. 

Bacon, bacon, now where had he seen that bacon? He had the image of it in his head, but that was only one piece of the puzzle, a photograph, humanly imperfect, memory woven out of instinct. Digging about in the deep freeze which the evidence pointed to as best John could tell had his fingers feeling like he’d stuck them out in space with out gloves on. They ached sharply as John cursed his crappy circulation. 

He gladly found the bacon though, lurking at the second darkest depths. He would not be willing to venture into the midnight zone of Unidentified Frozen Objects and charred dinner leftovers put away for ‘later’. He chucked the packet into the microwave and thawed out his hands by running them under lukewarm water, wincing all the while. If he’d thought this through, if he’d been smart enough, he would’ve put his suit gloves back on—his space rated, cold proof, most definitely impervious to domestic appliances gloves— and saved himself the pain.

Scott came over to rinse his avocado green hands. He dried them off then wrapped his arms around John’s waist so he could lean on him, giving in for a moment in face of daunting gravity. With Scott, he could because Scott got him; they both could.

“You alright?” And there was big brother smotherhen coming out.

John flexed his defrosted fingers. “I will be.” He turned and smushed his face into Scott’s neck for a little bit, hugging back, Scott rested his head on John’s, and they stayed there for a while.

They were both fading. The pasta would help with that, Scott really needed to eat and so did John at this point, the half a dry bagel for breakfast and another at lunch hadn’t really been enough. The trick now was finishing the task that felt as if it expanding faster by the second than the Universe, as measured by the Hubble Constant was. They could do this though. Together.

Scott chopped up the bacon roughly and John cooked it, hissing back when it spat hot oil at him. 

When Eos notified them the timer had gone off, and John had very scientifically tested the pasta was done by nomming on a bit, he called Scott over carry the large pot to the colander in the sink to strain. 

“Gravity plus boiling water plus my space noodley arms are probably not a good combo,” he laughed. 

He was getting better at knowing his limits. Scott’s smile was small and proud, he saw John.

Scott stared at the bacon with the intensity of a starved wolf with its mouth watering, then stole some pieces hot from the pan and burnt his mouth. Scoff Tracy strikes again. 

They dumped the pasta in a big mixing bowl with the mashed avocado, a little lemon juice, the bacon, and a whole lot of salt, pepper and parmesan cheese, mixing it together with the big pasta scoop.

John swayed on his feet then, grabbing onto Scott to stay upright for long enough to decide actually the best place for him right now was sitting on the kitchen floor just here. John folded himself down to the ground in a slithering pile of too long, too bendy limbs, Scott wordlessly guiding his descent. 

“You want me to grab some sporks to eat with?”

“They’re splayds, technically,” John remarked. He gave Scott the thumbs up anyway, while he rested his spinning head on his knees.

Scott waved about his ‘sporks’ acquired from the cutlery draw with a victorious grin before he sunk to the ground to join John.

John took one, passing the pasta to Scott once he was settled, lanky legs stretched out for miles, bumping into John’s.

“We forgot plates,” Scott said.

John shrugged. “At this point, who cares. We have pasta.”

“We do.” Scott blinked for a moment. “I didn’t before and I wouldn’t’ve but now we do.”

He hugged the warm pasta bowl to his chest, and when John observed more closely he saw the tears collecting on Scott’s eyelashes, sparkling in the kitchen light as he looked up at John.

“Thanks. I love you so much, Jay.”

John gave him a gentle smile, ducking to knock his forehead against his brother’s shoulder like a cat. “Love is stored in the pasta.”

Scott smiled back at him and they both dug in.

It was good pasta.

Really good pasta, because he was here with Scott and through everything they had made it, together.

[kylejsugarman]

hey I lurk for your Breaking Bad content. please give me all of your Jesse in Alaska/recovery headcanons. I need it like I need air.

jesse in alaska.......where do i even begin 😔 im going to avoid lingering too much on my alaska oc's and that little world (tldr for newcomers: jesse gets to haines, starts working at a repair/custom shop called carvings owned by sheila, and befriends and falls in love with the local vet demi who is raising her niece baby) just because there are Plenty of those posts and i want to focus more on jesse himself

this is one ive talked about before, but its just so precious to me, and thats jesse getting into cooking. at first, him learning how to do it is out of pure necessity. the canned food that ed left him only lasts for a few weeks and the prepackaged stuff at the store is all queasily redolent of the "treats" (<- meager sustenance) that were dropped into his cage, so he picks up a box of dry pasta and looks at the recipe for chicken penne printed on the box. it has all the steps, the ingredients. he was always good at following a recipe. jesse dutifully buys the stuff and what begins as him robotically following the text later on in his small, dim kitchen starts to feel. Good. there's no harsh fumes or chemical burns. he doesnt have to measure the garlic down to a hundredth of a gram. he has a recipe to follow—something to guide him—but nothing awful is going to happen if he experiments a little. if he deviates. and he isn't making poison. he's making something Good. for so, so long, jesse only Destroyed and when he did create, it was poison. now he gets to do what he wants. he gets to make good. that chicken penne is the first thing he eats in weeks that actually has flavor—or maybe he's letting himself Taste again. jesse starts cooking more and more, using those supermarket recipes and eventually recipes that he prints off from the public library computers, and even once it becomes a part of his daily routine, he never loses that weird excitement for it. there's the satisfaction of successfully executing a task even with his memory issues and adhd, but also the excitement of realizing over and over that he can do what he wants.

jesse thinks he's "done" with drugs when he gets to alaska purely because he hasn't been able to use and doesnt have immediate access to anything stronger than alcohol or tobacco, but he quickly realizes that he does not have any other kind of coping mechanism ready to deploy or way to sufficiently distract himself once he's physically and mentally well enough to Be Aware. alcohol doesnt seem to "work" fast enough. he thinks over and over about hiring a sex worker or finding a bar somewhere so he can have sex with and fall asleep next to a warm, living body. he drives for hours and sometimes hits the brakes hard on the icy road when theres no one else out there, letting himself skid uncontrollably and hoping he crashes. he wants to start a fight with a stranger. he wants to hug a stranger. and he does end up using drugs again, several times. i mean he's a severely traumatized addict arriving in a new location with zero support. it's not a failure, it's not irreversible backsliding: it's just the reality of what being in this terrifying, vulnerable situation would be like for jesse. for a long time, he sees these relapses as signs of weakness and that Certain People were right about him being a pathetic junkie with no will or value, but as he starts meeting people and finding new ways to be happy and getting the right treatment for his various issues and sometimes even sitting in NA church basement meetings because he just needs to be Understood, jesse comes around to the idea that addiction is not a moral failing and sees his life as worthy enough to safely and healthily preserve.

lightning round!! jesse decides once he arrives to grow his hair and facial hair out some to look less like his old mugshot, but also because as soon as the cold winter air touches his shaved head, he basically reverts to spongebob and patrick duct-taping fur off of sandy to survive in her dome during winter. he stops to stare in awe at eagles and whales and moose even after years and years of living in alaska. his sense of smell is nearly totally destroyed from cooking without protection, but he still always buys lemon scented soap and cleaning stuff because lemon was his aunt ginny's favorite scent. he reads up on a lot of first-aid on the public library computers, sometimes out of a sense of frantic compulsion or guilt, sometimes out of legitimate curiosity. when he drives home from doctors appointments or NA meetings, he plays the music in his car so loud that his seat shakes. the people of haines know that mr driscoll can be a little cagey and will flinch at the sound of his own laugh, but they also know that he brakes for animals and carves beautiful gadrooning and buys ten of whatever the kids are selling to raise money for the band or their scout troop. and they like him quite a bit :)

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 3: sketch 1

ed note from the future: this got long. its going mostly under a readmore for everyone's sake. and i didnt even finish sketching, just trying to explain what is going through my mind while trying to sketch. look, if i write down my process in exhausting detail people will realize im completely insane. this is a net benefit to anyone trying to interact with me in the future who thinks i can be reasoned with. community service. thank you for allowing me to post this shit lol

hmmm. giving up on the first few panels for right now. here's what i'm thinking about as i sketch this:

too many of my panels were talking heads or constantly relied on one point perspective. i have been trying to work against this for a while with mixed results. sometimes the result is so bad i have to scrap what i did and start over but sometimes it's "good enough for TV"* and i hit publish on it. no risks, no reward after all. can't get better if you don't try.

in this first panel, i have two people having a back and forth conversation through a weird magic hole in the floor/wall. maxine is laying on a couch with hole right above her head. homestar runner will demonstrate what i mean:

however, there are logistical problems with maxine that homestar runner doesnt have. maxine's right shoulder is dislocated, so she can't lay on that side, or any side that would put pressure on the joint. im realizing i don't actually know what position would be most comfortable in her situation or how she would instinctually arrange her body to avoid pain. i start looking up videos from physical therapists on how they recommend patients sleep for some ideas.

also i start looking up what women look like sleeping on couches. how does the human body fold up. because this isn't it.

anyway, this was my first effort with the first panels.

for reference, the last page ends like this:

the top left of the sketch would have been the hopi clown back on the shelf with the "camera" tilting above it to reveal maxine. while this keeps the relevant object from the previous page in frame as a piece of connective tissue between updates....i'm struggling to fit the second character in. the one talking from the hole. maybe there's still hope for this? it's not terrible. initially i nuked it but maybe i can make this work.

fuck! she needs a pillow or two to make this work. this video is right, that DOES look naturally comfortable compared to the standard fetal position that would pull the affected shoulder inward. i didn't draw any pillows into the stupid establishing shot of the office bc its not the kind of couch you are expected to sleep on!!! this is a man's business office!!! i thought i was so smart!!

basically every couch comes with decorative pillows though, and the shot of the room didn't include the wall the "camera" was up against. my 2-point perspective failure might have paid off here lol. if i can establish that the second character is talking through the hole, he can use his rayman hands to reach across the room and get the pillow for her. it can be part of his personal campaign to show maxine he means her no immediate harm. the pillows were just out of frame. lurking. ok let's try it again. uhhhh after i eat some lunch

---

*my friend kelly had an anecdote from working in animation that im going to retell badly from memory. her boss would take the work she labored over to meet by deadline and would laugh at it, saying "ah, its terrible! but good enough for TV". and while extremely mean, he had a salient point: it never has to be perfect. it just needs to be good enough to be seen. sometimes i seriously think about this anecdote when im dissatisfied with my own art. it's bad. but it's good enough for tv.

[an-theduckin]

can you ramble about the present head man episode?

OH MY GOD YES YES YES OFC THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING ME THIS I LOVE U I AM GONNA MAKE COOKIES FOR YOU.

So the episode starts off with letting us know that Argos takes pride in his job as the welcoming committee, let's put a pin on this info cuz I'll come back to this later.

So the thing I found weird about that episode was why Argos didnt think of the possibility that the presents head might just be the present and isn't inside a present. Like literally everyone else in the void has like an object head, so why didn't that thought even cross his mind? Maybe because present guy didn't have any facial features? But I'm pretty sure there's other void members who don't have facial features too.

As the episode goes on we see him gets more and more curious about it, even though he knew that it wasn't his business ("I know, its none of my business!" Said by Argos to Mr plant) he becomes more desperate to see what's inside, that becomes everything he ever thinks about. He couldn't even get his mind off that while babysitting. And then he snapped, and finally went there. I don't think he even spend time going back home and stuff, I think he went there directly from his babysitting job, cuz he hit him with an abc book (probably got it for babysitting the kids) to knock him out.

We can see that he was self aware and apologetic, but he just couldn't help the curiosity that was growing more and more. This can be seen in the quote "I know, its none of my business!" Said by him to Mr plant, and can also see this because he said "I'm sorry about this" to the present guy before hitting him. He knows that he wasn't doing the right thing, he knows he shouldn't do this. But he can't help himself, he was getting desperate for answers.

I REALLY REALLY LOVE HOW ASHUR PORTRAYS HIS GUILT IN HIS FACE LIKE AHHH THAT PART IS SOOO SATISFYING. IM A DRAMA STUDENT AND THAT IS JUST FANTASTIC ACTING I WISH I COULD STEAL HIS ACTING SKILLS. I LOVE THE WAY HIS HANDS SLIGHTLY SHAKES WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT IT WASNT A MASK AND HE JUST KILLED AN INNOCENT MAN. NOT JUST ANY MEN, GOING BACK TO THE POINT WE MADE AT THE BEGINNING, HE KILLED THE MAN HE WAS SUPPOSED TO HELP. HE TOOK PRIDE IN THIS JOB, BUT BECAUSE OF THAT JOB HE NOW HAS BLOOD ON HIS HANDS. LIKE UGHHH I REALLY REALLY LOVE THIS EPISODE.

Also also I find it interesting how when Argos imagines of what might be inside the present, he thinks "a telephone, an old boot, a smile". Like why would he think of objects (and a concept) if the reason he's so curious is cuz his head is a present, which is an object? Also I feel like the objects might be symbolic of smth and I'm not really sure what but I'm gonna go full ramble mode and just pull out bullshit outta my ass now.

Telephones represent communication, this could be reflective on the fact that Mr present died because they didn't communicate (he didn't answer argos's question when he asked why there's a present on his head). If he had told him that his head isn't inside the present and it is the present, he probably wouldn't have died. So lack of communication is a factor in his death.

An 'old boot' is a slang for "an ugly or disliked women". Ignoring the women and disliked part, being 'ugly' kinda contributed into his death as well? Cuz Argos couldn't realise that this was just how he looked like, and thought he looked like something else (that is inside the present). Also, boots can symbolize being natural or earthy. This reflects on why Mr present died, because Argos didn't think that having a present as a head was natural. So this is also a factor in his death.

A smile. The last two things were objects, but this one is a concept. It obviously represents happiness and joy, maybe this could show how Argos thought he'd be more satisfied and happy if he knew what Mr present was hiding inside his present. So this is also a factor for his death.

I HOPE THAT MADE SENSE LMAO IM NOT EXACTLY GOOD AT EXPLAINING. ALSO ALSO I REALLY LOVE HOW MR PLANT HELPED CLEAN UP THE MESS ITS JUST SO RELATIONSHIP GOALS I LOVE THEM

ANDDDDDDD THATS ALL!! THANK U AGAIN FOR ASKING THIS LIKE IM SOOOOOO GLAD I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT IT IVE BEEN HAVING BRAINROT ABOUT THIS EPISODE FOR A WHILE NOW I JUST NEEDED SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABT IT SO I CAN ALLOW MYSELF TO TALK ABOUY IT LOL. THIS WAS SO FUN TO RAMBLE, I HOPE I MADE ANY SENSE AT ALL!! :DD

[mages-ballad]

some stuff regarding dawntrail now that ive finished and had time to collect my thoughts, spoilers up to the very end inbound of course. sorry if its long i have many MANY a thought.

ok so i wanna preface by saying i DID like dawntrail. i love wuk lamat and i cried like 3 or 4 times, tural is a great location and it was very fun to meet all the different kinds of npcs there

HOWEVER theres some things that kinda feel awkwardly paced? if i can be completely honest, it feels like the first half and the second half of the msq are two entirely different plotlines that were smushed together. and this isnt even saying that everkeep/sphene/s9 are "too different" because its not even an aesthetic issue for me, its moreso the themes presented first half? a little slow but in a GOOD way, helps you get a feel for the land and the people and shows wuk lamat's growth. the succession plotline feels like a whole, coherent thing. i like it. as soon as thats over and you hit shaaloani though, its slow and quite literally filler aside from a few tidbits for erenville. it felt awkward how it was trying to show xak tural culture, but also heavilyyy favored screentime for the "cowboy" stuff over the hhetsarro (who also very much live in shaaloani and are part of tural), who we spent practically 1 quest with and it was to ask them for lumber. and THEN it goes right from that to a high-stakes plot with zoraal ja's attack and heritage found and everything progressing after that. on its own the plot has potential... but by living memory i got the impression that everything from the end of shaaloani and refitting the train to running through the memories of alexandria, it just felt like it was trying to be Shadowbringers 2/Endwalker 2. and it wasnt really working out the same. "a society faced a calamity and a leader figure cant let go of the past and will gladly sacrifice other worlds to keep the memory of their people alive/go back to how things used to be. theres also a city full of people that arent alive and are just memories. also you get to run through a dungeon that shows the destruction of the past world that said leader figure cant let go of." like thats just the ascians and emet and amaurot right there. we KNOW how this stuff goes. from endwalker and venat we learned that its impossible to strive for absolute peace and perfection and that suffering and death are unavoidable, and the importance of maintaining hope and being able to go keep going forward at those lowest points. the whole time between solution 9 and living memory i was just sitting there thinking to myself like??? have we not seen this same stuff before??? why isnt anyone saying anything??? i knowwww this is mainly wuk lamat's story and development but it felt almost wrong to have these plotlines and themes and neither the wol or any of the scions even point out how familiar it is. i was under the impression that dawntrail would be a point for the wol to take a backseat, but to ALSO use what weve learned from 1-90 to help others. i genuinely feel like they pushed the idea that this is a fresh start *too hard* and everything weve gone through as the wol emotionally feels pretty ignored. aside from the whole "oh yeah btw were super strong weve been to the edge of the universe lol dont worry lol" like i hope this doesnt come off as me hating dawntrail. because i dont, and im interested to see the extent of travel between reflections and how thats handled going forward. but i cant help but feel like something was missing in that 2nd half of the msq. i can only hope some of this stuff gets addressed in the patches, because as it stands rn, even with sphene gone solution 9 still feels weird. the theme of dawntrail wants us to respect their culture, but from past xpacs we already know that a society like that is factually not sustainable, especially when multiple npcs have already pointed out its flaws (declining birth rate, for example.) maybe thatll be resolved later, but as it stands rn, the contradictory of themes is confusing. this is getting reallllyyy long and rambling now but WHEW i just needed to get this all off my chest. on a positive note to end this, im very much enjoying the dungeons and combat so thats been good.

tl;dr, 1st half of msq good, 2nd half confusing, combat good.

[master-missysversion]

Boom thoughts

Liveblog under the cut as usual

Tldr: this episode was absolutely brilliant, so much tension, a brilliant storyline, some hard hitting criticisms of capitalism and Christianity/blind faith, side characters you can't help but get invested in and soo many emotional scenes. I can't see anything this season topping this episode for me but it has left me far more excited for the rest of the season than i was previously

Something about the video looks weird. Like it very much just looks like these soldiers are standing in front of a greenscreen

Child character :) Moffat loves a child character and I eat it up every time

Mundy is so beautiful

"They ran out of money" I wonder if the "ambulance" kills injured soldiers to save resources

Ohhh my god that whole sequence with Carson stepping on the mine had me on the edge of my seat and then my jaw on the floor

This episode so far is off to a brilliant start, im already feeling really invested in these characters and the tension is thick

ohh I'm thinking I was right about soldiers being killed to save resources or something

THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS

Rip John Vater I was legitimately so invested in you, but i had a feeling that would happen

"Stay there!" *ruby casually walks out "okay, coming!" Dhfbdkdm

Also I love how he says to stay there then leaves the door wide open like bffrrr you knew she was coming

I think for the sake of saving time, the doctor should probably tell ruby that you don't actually need to lock the tardis behind you

The Skye Boat Song 💃🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

This reminds me of Merlins death in Kingsman tho

"I was kinda hoping for a beach" you'd get along great with Yaz

I missed the doctor telling random stories so much 😭 I'm gonna hc the lesbian gymkhana adventure happened with Yaz and she was sooo annoyed the doctor ruined their outing with a stupid bet

Okay I know its probably just because she's being written by Moffat but I am reallyyy seeing the similarity to Clara now

And we're back to music....this seems to be a recurring theme

WHAT was that poem?? "The moon and the presidents wife" is a clear reference to the doctors own life. Gonna be thinking about this one for a while

"Beyond acceptable parameters for a conflict as budgeted" I knewww it

"People don't usually bring that up" yes they do. Literally all the time 😭 I know he's just trying to appeal to the kid

Ohhh is there even an enemy?

"Hush" the return of moffats favourite word 😆

NOOOO NOT CANTO

how could you do that to me 😭 poor Canto Poor Mundy

Is this woman Susan twist btw? Im not good with faces but it could be right?

KISS KISS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ty John Vater I always loved you

The way he just pushes Ruby down lmaooo

Mention of a diary will be feeding the "river is Ruby's mother" theorists

Beautiful

"He's not gone, he's just dead. He's not gone" i love how this is a twist on the "they're not gone because they're always there in spirit" trope

The vworp vworps are back!

Now time for the next time trailer

This looks really interesting, I think this episode has really got me excited for this series in a way that I wasn't before, its a shame moffats not writing more of it but I'm excited to see what happens in 73 yards

I love that they're finally back in Wales

Who issss sheee. I need to know

Also I just saw the credits and I was right about the Ambulance being Susan Twist! I think she's the person talking about Mad Jack too isn't she?

Final thoughts: this was an absolute banger of an episode, honestly I fear that none of the other episodes in the season will live up to it. I just enjoyed every minute so much, the build up, the tension, the emotions, the engaging side characters, the running themes and hints at the overall season plot were all absolutely brilliant. It was so good parts of it had me skipping back a few seconds to watch scenes again. I wasn't sure what to expect going in but this exceeded my expectations nonetheless

[heartlvrrss]

Doodle (part 1?)

Pairing: Haechan x reader

Word count: 1417

Genre: fluff, attempted and horribly failed comedy

Warnings: swearing, cringe and theres no kiss in this part </3 let me know if i missed any!

••••••••

A light hits my face, making me immediately move my tired arm to my face, hoping to block the horrid light from my eyes for the hope of at least getting a few more seconds of sleep.

Well that’s what I was at least  hoping for before a loud voice had to interrupt me, which of course belonged to lee donghyuck, who, was also my longterm friend since middle school when we met through an awkward encounter of when my boyfriend of 2 months broke up with me, 13 year old me was obviously heartbroken and what made it even worse was hyucks loud ass laugh that could be heard from across the globe. We somehow became friends shortly after, which made me become bewitched under his charm and somehow gain a life long crush on him.

Resuming to the current situation in our 3rd year of college, here I am trying to ignore his desperate whines to get me up, there was a reason i decided to not get a roommate but if a knew hyuck would technically be the same thing then maybe i would’ve opted for the roommate option earlier on.

“wake up” haechan screams into my ear for about the millionth time making me inch one bit closer to slapping the shit out of him

“Lee donghyuck will you please just shut the fuck up, its saturday for gods damn sake.” The annoyance evident in my voice

“but you promised to take me to the new cat cafe” the grown ass man whines

“Do I fucking look like your sugar mommy to you?” istg if he says yes ill slap him 

“youre not but, I am willing to take the offer just incase” that’s when I slap him for real making him let out an exaggerated yelp

“thats it. Ask one of your other hoes, im not taking you anymore”

Sadly, it seemed to not work as here I am walking with this absolute man-child to a cat cafe, once we arrived there I (obviously) firstly looked at the exterior, it was a cute little pink and off white cafe with a rusty pink chalkboard sitting outside for todays menu, a few white tables and seats with some flowers on each table to decorate it,

“It’s so cute” I squealed 

“I told you it would be nice” hyuck replies but I just ignore him.

As we go in there were a few people already sitting there, eating a pastry or drinking something with adorable cats on their laps. We walked to a table by a window and grabbed the menus, taking a look at them before a waiter comes

“Hello, have you already decided on what to order yet?” She asks,

“Just a few more minutes please” I reply before she says something again

“Ok, also you too are a very cute and good-looking couple” she smiles not knowing of my mini heart attack that I’m having right now,

“Oh, we’re not a-” I answer back in shock before being interrupted by hyuck

“Oh god, she’s like a sister to me” he says in a (fake but i’m to dumb to realize) disgusted tone which, to be honest, it hurt quite a bit but I brushed it off, there’s no way I could still have a crush on him after all this time, right? 

“My apologies” she smiles back before leaving.

“Well, have you decided on what to eat yet?” I ask trying to brush off the heartbreak and embarrassment rushing through my body at that second

***** (Time skip cuz Im not gonna put that much detail into that one scene)       

It’s Monday (sadly) and I’m being dragged from my beloved bed by haechan as usual, earlier then usual to class,he wanted to ‘be early’  though I know it was probably to chose who would be his new girlfriend (It’s taking me a lot to hold back from slapping him and telling him I’m right here) because it’s apparently been way to long since he’s had a girlfriend (literally like 9 months). 

“You know you could’ve just went alone without me” I whine

“I might look weird if I go alone won’t it look weird when I go alone and just look at other girls”

“No it would make me look like a creep”

“Do you know how many people think we are dating? Like 5 million, I think you would rather want to be a creep then a cheater to people who don’t know us”

“Now that you say that, you’re sadly correct? Y’know what, leave I’ll do this myself” He replies while trying to push me the other way

“Can you stop pushing me you shithead? Just in case you forgot we have the same class!” 

                         ********

“Can you please stop hitting me!” I complain to Haechan who’s been hitting me for almost the whole lesson

“I’m bored”

“And I’m trying to learn, so please for the sake of others and me would you please stop”

“How would it hurt others?” He says in a blunt voice

“How am I gonna support my future family because I’m getting rejected at every job because I didn’t pay attention during class?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to support us” 

What the actual fuck. “Lee Donghyuck.”

“Not the government name. Scary.” He says in a ‘scared’ tone yet I could hear the smirk on his face.

***********

I don’t know why I even chose to accept to go to a party with hyuck but here I am walking with him to the party

“Why did we have to walk?” Haechan whines

“Because you need to get up and walk, exercise is important”

“Don’t act like the last time you even went near a gym was when you wanted to get something to eat from the mcdonalds next to it”

“Oh, look! We’re here!” I say trying to change the topic of this convo

“Don’t try to change the subject!”

***

“Hyuck stop drinking, you’ve had so many shots I’m not even sure how you’re even alive right now” I complain to him

“You’re not my mother” he whined, clearly drunk.

“Do you want to end up like him?” I point over to mark who’s on the couch next to a bucket of puke grasping onto staying awake which the possibility of that happening is less possible than him getting hoes “Cause I don’t feel like taking care of you in that state” I look over to haechan who is trying to look like hes asleep, keyword; trying.

“Stop pretending to be asleep, you know that trick never works on me”

“Damn it” he replies clearly bummed out about the fact it didn’t work as usual

“Now get up, I’m not going to let you stay at this place any drunker than you already are

“I don’t wanna” He has the nerve to reply knowing he’ll oblige anyways the second I say it again

“It isn’t choice get up” This time he thankfully gets up, slightly staggering before I let him hold onto me for support

“I’ll call a cab” I say after we walk out the door and he just nods most likely not listening yet still looking at me like a toddler seeing it’s favorite cartoon on tv

“You’re really pretty actually” He says out of nowhere breaking the silence

“Hyuck it’s not the time for jokes right now, you’re just drunk you’re speaking nonsense” I say, brushing of the butterflies in my stomach

“I’m not lying though” Haechan whines like a child “Couldn’t you tell that I’ve liked you ever since I’ve met you?” he says again in a more serious tone this time

“I thought you were just joking all the time when you flirted with me, besides you’re always ‘girl hunting’” I mutter, still a bit shocked

“I only do that because I think you don’t like me back”

“I thought I was pretty clear about my feelings too” 

“Not really” he mutters but I choose to ignore it

“Let’s talk about this at my dorm, the cabs coming” I say still in a tiny bit of shock

“I wanna talk about this us now though” 

“Fine”

“So, are we like a couple now?” I question

“I hope we are” he smiles at me

“Let’s talk more when you are sober ok?”

“I’m sobering up though” he pouts at me

“Barely.”

*****

The end? (I might make a part 2 when theyre like a couple idk or the next morning, yall decide)

[stalking-seb]

am three shots deep, wont/cant drink more but its just hitting

my thighs are burning from me ripping off scabs

im thinking about new ways to hurt him

mad horny, need to pee :/ unfortunately those are mixing ik hes not into feede(e/r) nd im not either but what about with water cuz he doesnt booze either?

wanna make sure he doesnt have dry mouth cuz im smokin him out ofc but also why not make him need to go?

like its almost sensual? the first cup is jhst enough to make him realize water us so good and two and three are gone before anyone knows it and thats when it goes right on through

handing him cup number four when he kinda squirms a little, probably not even realizing he has to go nd maybe drinking it makes it worse

so lets smoke a bowl about it?

yeah you can start, i dont like first green, plus its good luck- right?

now deep exhale, ill light for you, just tell me when youre ready and give me a signal to pull the bowl off

good pupp-- HEY why are you coughing, put your hand over the top of that bong right tf now you dumb rapebait creep, dont make this smoke go stale and waste it! why are you squirming so much? come on, deep breath bro dont be weird abou-- oh waiiit ik that look! youve gotta piss! haha it feels like i just gave you that water!

you wanna try something out? just something kinda... not exactly hot- just one more glass of water? and lets finish up this bong and hope its not too stale? cool, yeah ill finish it, just cleeeeaar hell yeah! ooo hold it let me strangle you to make you hold it longer too???

then blow it out in my face, just dont cough, you dont wanna fucking piss yourself, i know youre a freak but come on, just keep holding it

oh yeah ill finish that bowl up later, i wanna know how you feel

desperate? yeah that makes sense- no im not gonna stop sitting on your lap you cant get up yet im not finished with you<3 oh it hurts your cuts? i hope im ripping em open too<3

yeah no shit you have to go, i just wanna see how bad it can get, what if i punch you in the gut like this? what if i do it over and over and over again~??

yeah i bet your stomach hurts, why dont you go nd piss outside real quick and ill keep beatin you up, huh?

unless you wanna just piss on me? no judgment of course little bro! you know i can keep a secret