#arty party took the first!!

[pucktyreshannism]

watching VAN vs SEA yesterday to see many baby canucks doing so well was such a parent moment

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FORTS AND DADDY TIME! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader

summary. when you need to stay at work for longer than expected, you leave oscar with your daughter. when you come home earlier than your husband thought, the cutest scene plays in front of you.

notes. tysm for loving my previous dad!oscar fic!!! this one’s also not proofread but lets pretend like there is not a single mistake in here 😙😙😙

days like this were the hardest, especially with the thought of oscar’s summer break inevitable ending occupying your mind. every year, you wanted to make sure you had spent the maximum time with him and chloe, before parting your ways for a while again. going back to the office, while you were spending the precious time with your husband and daughter, was something you hated, mostly, because chloe was the biggest daddy’s girl on earth. some people might’ve gotten jealous over the fact that they’re not their baby’s favorite parent, but you loved watching oscar interact with chloe.

but honestly, leaving them alone was still a bit of a stressful situation for you and your emotions were all over the place as you tried writing down all the necessary things just in case oscsr forgets, which wasn’t likely to happen, but still — you wanted to be more than sure.

“baby, i know how to look after chloe.” oscar laughed softly, his arms wrapped around your waist as he stood behind, placing a single kiss on your neck. “we’re gonna have much fun today, right, squish?” he asked, when the little girl leaned on his leg, looking up at the two of you with a sweet smile. she nodded eagerly, earning a small chuckle from you.

“i good girl.” chloe replied confidently, wrapping her arms around oscar’s leg, wanting to stay as close to him as possible, despite it was you the one leaving (even if it was for a few long hours). “mommy good girl, too! and daddy good girl, too too!” the two of you had to stifle a laugh as your daughter praised you on being good girls.

a few minutes later, quite a couple of reassuring words from your husband, a few wet, sloppy kisses on your cheeks and a literal push out of the door and oscar was left with your little squish. at first everything was calm, chloe was sprawled out on the carpet, playing with her little’s pet shops collection, making a little voice-over, while your husband was preparing a strawberry smoothie for her.

though, before he knew it, he was dressed in one of your dresses, wearing a plastic tiara on his head with stickers plastered all over his cheeks, while sitting at chloe’s small, colourful table with some of her favorite plushies (a panda named jimmy, a koala named arty [after her favorite uncle], ginny the giraffe and daphne the dolphin).

“c’mon, princess squish, do a spin for daddy.” oscar smiled, watching as his daughter did a spin. he helped her get into her purple tutu dress, put a tiara and a few hair clips in the strands of her blond hair. to make her princess tea party experience even better, he took some of your eyeshadow palettes and put some on her to match her purple dress.

“i so pretty, daddy!” she squeaked happily, doing a little dance. “tea?” she asks as she plops down on her dad’s lap, pouring a pretend tea into his pink cup. “tasty, tasty.” she nodded, taking a sip.

“yeah, you’re my pretty princess, squish.” oscar chuckled, earning himself one of the most beautiful views in the world — his daughter grinning, showing him her baby teeth. your husband couldn’t help but to grin back at her, feeling her little arms wrap around his neck as she went in for a hug.

oscar was a sucker for moment like those, as much as he wished you were there to witness it, he loved spending time with chloe, seeing her grow up every day, noticing those slight changes in the way she constructed her sentences and how the incoherent babbling started to turn into actual words and sentences. he was counting down the days till she was old enough to not tire you out whenever on a flight, so he could see her happy face after a race and to show her the beauties of the world on a free day. god, she was the the most important person in the world for him in a way he could drop everything to make sure she was happy.

his heart ached painfully, every time he was away from you and chloe for longer than a few days and with his hectic schedule. everything seemed to be a lot better, when his lucky charms were next to him.

the princess tea party went on for almost another hour until the princess hosting it started to slowly get tired and tired, snuggling up to him after they finished cleaning everything up. it took them some time, because she had to give each of her plushies a few kisses before placing them in her bed, tucking them in. “you’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you, baby?” he chuckled, watching her as he leaned on the doorframe of her room.

she tilted her head with a tiny smile as she ran towards her dad, unfortunately, she tripped on the edge of the carpet, scraping her knees at the friction as she fell. tears started falling down her cheeks in an instant and oscar’s heart broke in half. he knew accidents happen all the time, but he wasn’t prepared for one involving his daughter, when he was all alone, even if it was just a small scratch.

“shh, hey, what’s with the fuss?” he asked in a calm voice, gently picking her up. your husband placed a few soft kisses on chloe’s wet cheek to calm her down. “s’okay, daddy’s gonna take care of your ouchie.” he reassured as she nuzzled her teary face against his neck, sniffling quietly.

“fait mal, daddy.” she sniffled. oscar was glad that once in a while, your brothers wanted to mess with him and spoke only in french before chloe was born, so he could pick up on what his daughter was saying. hurts.

“i know, squish.” he sighed, gently sitting her down on the couch, telling his baby to sit still, while she tried to wipe away her flowing cheeks. he sprayed antiseptic on her scratches, holding her hand with his free one. a small gasp left his daughter’s lips as the spray coated her ouchies. “such a brave, girl.” he coaxed, placing two band-aids on her disinfected knees (with puppies, of course). when her face was no longer in tears, a sad pout appeared on her lips, making oscar’s stomach turn.

“how about, we make a blanket fort and watch some cartoon before you go to sleep, hm?” he suggested, the pout disappearing in a second, being replaced my a grin. a blanket fort? that sounds super cool. he pulled a few chairs together, putting a blanket on top of it as chloe’s eyes widened in shock and excitement.

the final product was breathtaking, at least for chloe, because oscar did everything he could to make the blanket fort look magical as he put pillows on the floor, put up lights and brought his ipad to play chloe’s favorite movie.

before he knew it, his little girl was curled up against his side, his hand gently moving up and down against her back as her head rested on the side of his chest. her eyes were slowly closing, but she wanted to stay in the fort and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a tantrum of a sleepy, cranky little girl.

when you came back from work, the apartment looked clean, as if oscar sedated your little ball of energy and hired a cleaning company. that was your thought process, until you noticed a blanket fort in the living room and your heart melted like a chocolate in a water bath. you quietly took off your shoes and tiptoed to the fort, peaking inside. seeing the view completely shattered your heart in the most positive way possible.

“you’re back already?” oscar asked quietly, not wanting to disturb chloe’s sleep as she was laying down on his chest. “thought it’d take a little longer.” he smiled affectionately at you.

“think there’s some room for me?” your mouth curled into a small beam as he nodded, quickly taking a spot next to him, finally noticing that he’s wearing one of your dresses and you had to stiffle a laugh.

oscar noticed your expression and groaned quietly. “we had a princess party.” he explained, though the pretend angered look quickly dissolved, replaced by a playful smile. “your daughter didn’t let me be a prince, so i had to stole one of your dresses. i’ll show you the photos tomorrow morning.” he kissed your temple as you snuggled up closer, your hand gently rubbing chloe’s back.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

The Winner

✰ stanford!art donaldson x stanford!f!reader

✰ word count : 1.0k

✰ summary : you never get tired of being art donaldson's girl, especially when you get to reward him for his win later that night.

✰ warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, minors dni, 18+, tashi erasure (i'm sorry), art is happy LOL.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ art donaldson m.list

⋆ gif by @supersoldierslover

Your professor’s monotone voice was the cherry on top of your already long day. Scheduling back-to-back lectures right before Art’s game days wasn’t ideal, but you made it work. You’re grateful to not play a sport while also engaging in academics. There have been countless nights spent in the library with Art, going over his notes because his practice in the afternoon tends to run late, pushing his homework time to the late hours of the night. 

With your head resting on your hand, another yawn is pulled from your body. A buzz from your back pocket jolts you awake, causing an embarrassing heat to flood your face. Quietly, you reach for your phone and check the message that almost gave you a heart attack. 

artie <3: I saved you a spot! My bag should be on the seat, and there’s a snack in there for you. 

You smile at the text. 

you: I’ll be out of class soon! I love you, superstar. 

artie <3: I love you!

And with the clock striking six thirty in the afternoon, you jump out of your seat and rush to the courts. Determination is written across your face as you frantically rush to the spot Art had saved for you that’s right at the front. Sure enough, a granola bar is inside his bag. 

It only takes a few minutes before Art makes his entrance on the court, his eyes automatically searching for you. Even after months of dating, spotting him made your heart race. He’s so captivating in the way he moves, especially when he plays. 

But even as he’s approaching you, you’re stuck in a daze. “Hi, pretty girl,” his voice carries a smile through it, something you’ve always appreciated. You lean over the fence and give him a kiss, his hand coming to the side of your face as if he wants to pull you impossibly closer to his touch. 

Taking his other hand in yours, you can feel that his palm is slightly clammy, “Are you nervous? You shouldn’t be.” 

He huffed a laugh and looked down because his ‘tough guy’ act didn’t slide past you. “I’m always nervous when you watch me play,” he admits, a rosy blush fluttering over his cheeks. 

You squeeze his hand once, an unspoken form of reassurement. “Don’t be,” you smile, “I’m your number one fan.” You joke, but not really.

With one last kiss, he leaves to play the game you’ve watched him perfect for the past few years. And though he’s hitting the ball to his opponent, you can’t help but focus on your boyfriend. The muscles in his arm flex with each movement as the sweat drips down his forehead, causing him to pull the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the perspiration away. Giving you, and the girls behind you, a perfect view of the cut of his abdomen leading down to the waistband of his shorts. 

Of course, you knew Art was attractive, and pair that with him being the best man on the team, he’s bound to receive attention. At first, the constant gawks and inappropriate comments towards him made your blood boil. You couldn’t stand the sight of the girls throwing themselves at your boyfriend, but now, you’ve learned to use them to your advantage. 

Before dating Art, there was no way you would purposely put yourself out there. Going to parties and bars wasn’t your favorite way to spend Friday nights, but now, you’re forced to embrace the spotlight just by being associated with Stanford's star tennis player. 

Art always has you by his side, an arm snaked around your waist as he greets friends at social gatherings. It took a while to get used to, but you wouldn’t have it any other way with Art by your side. 

Leaning back in your seat, you enjoy the Spring sun as you watch Art’s match unfold. And with the girls behind you giggling at your boyfriend, you smile. You smile because you know you’ve won.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

With Art’s opponent hitting the ball out, that was the match; an easy victory for Stanford. You rise to your feet and smile while applauding. Slinging Art’s bag over your shoulder, you unapologetically flaunt the embroidered stitching writing, ‘DONALDSON’ towards the girls behind you before walking off. 

You make your way to the exit of the locker room as you wait for Art to appear. You make casual conversation with the people around you, mostly friends and family of the other players, when some of them start to come out. Slowly, but surely, you see the mess of dirty blond hair push open the door, a smirk coming to your lips. 

He puts his classic red hat on backward before engulfing you in a hug, picking you up off of your feet, and spinning you in a circle. You giggle as you find your footing on the pavement below you, “See? There's no need to be nervous when I watch. You crushed it, baby.” 

“Maybe you’re my good luck charm,” he suggests, pulling away before he grabs your hand, leading the both of you to his dorm—a stupid boyish smile on his face. 

You brush off the feeling of his cock pressed into your thigh as he spun you as you let him lead you to his place, “Is this you subtly asking that I come to every single one of your matches?” 

“Hmm,” that smile never faded from his mouth, “maybe?” 

“Are you going to prove to me why I should? Or are you going to keep subtly flirting with me until I’m the one that has to beg for you to fuck me?” 

Your question surprises him and causes him to quicken his pace as you laugh behind him. He’s dragging you to his room, and you won’t stop him. Not after his big victory, he deserves to feel good tonight. 

⋆ author's note: ANOTHER ART FIC BECAUSE I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF HIM!!!! thank you for all the love on the last few art fics!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog this work if you loved it!! ok, ily byeeee!!!

[parkerluvsu]

can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!

MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)

sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.

the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.

the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".

art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.

art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)

the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.

an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".

that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.

me: sure, come over anytime

art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.

as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.

you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.

a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).

you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.

art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.

art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.

[challenger-fan-club]

We can’t do this to Art

((You’re left alone after a party with Patrick Zweig and we can’t do this to Art))

Art left the party early. He’s a good boy who needs his sleep ahead of the tournament. He had maybe three drinks and then got an early night. It’s what you should have done but instead it’s two am and you’re semi drunk and left alone with Patrick Zweig in his room. You don’t remember everyone else leaving and you definitely should have left before now but there was still beer and Patrick makes you laugh. You didn’t know why he didn’t kick you out or get another girl to stay to keep him company. As Arts girlfriend, you had heard all of his stories. You thought that he thinks of you as one of the boys more than anything. He kept switching the music until he found something he liked.

“So, cmon, what is it about Art you like so much?” He bit his lip asking the question. “You know Art, he’s smart and sweet and kind.” Patrick nodded with your words. “Not sexy?” He prodded. “Of course.” You said. “What’s he like?” Patrick sat closer to you. You queried him, not really sure what he was asking, not really sure that THATS what he was asking. “He’s sweet and kind… you know, considerate.” You shrugged your shoulders at him. “I don’t think that’s the compliment you think it is.” Patrick laughed. “I can imagine him being a baby in bed, you should have seen the first time I beat him at tennis, he sobbed himself to sleep.” He was smirking as you shared the last beer. “I didn’t say he was a baby. You’re twisting my words.” You laughed. “No but cmon, he is a baby. Cherub faced, puppy eyes, constantly needs attention.” You held back a laugh. “Stop, he a great boyfriend.” Your eyes lingered on Patrick a little too long. “Yeah but he’s not great fuck.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Not everything is about sex Patrick, Art and I have a connection and trust and respect.” Patrick got closer to you as he switched the beer between you and him, allowing him to take his drink. “It’s not a relationship without good sex y’know. It’s friendship, it’s roommates.” You scoffed at his words. “Look I know you don’t get it but…” Patrick looked slightly hurt by your words. “I get it.” You took the beer from him. “I just think you both deserve to have great sex.” He shrugged off the words. “We have good sex!”

Patrick wrinkled his nose at the thought. “But it’s not hard, rough, toe curling, screaming so hard that the neighbours worry sex though is it?” He closed the gap between you, almost touching. You didn’t answer the question but looked down at his lips. “He doesn’t make you beg to cum, bet he doesn’t even know how to make you cum hard all over him.” He moved the hair from your next. “Poor Artie, didn’t even know how to touch himself until I taught him, bet I could teach him how to ruin you.” He whispered the words in your ear as his nose touched your ear lobes and lips gently on your neck. You had to try control your breathing as his words were like music to your ears. “We can’t do this to Art.” You whispered back, afraid to move your face. “You’re not doing anything.” He started kissing your neck, rough and sloppily as his hand started to run your back.

You still didn’t say anything as he kissed your neck other than letting out a ‘mhm’ as he kissed you. “Big bad Patrick will do everything, and you’re just being a good girl, taking it.” He almost growled the words as you sank into his kisses. His hands moved roughly over your body as he pulled the collar of your dress down, exposing your chest. Patrick grabbed your nipples roughly pulling them and rubbing them in between his fingers. He had manoeuvred himself behind you, pulling you on his lap without his lips leaving your neck. You could feel yourself relax under his touch as you moaned at his touch. You could feel how hard he was while you were on his lap. “Suuuch a good girl.” You could feel yourself instinctively grinding your hips against his rock hard cock. He put one hand on your thighs to hold you closer. “See, you’re not doing annnything.” He started thrusting his hips back to you as you gasped against him. His fingers trailed along the inside of your thigh until he reached your wet, underwear.

“Not doing anything yet you’re still desperate for me aren’t you?” His words made you moan, almost involuntarily as he continued to tease you. He reached his hand up from your chest and pulled chunks of your hair backwards to give him more access to your neck, more control. “You’re such a good little cockslut for me.” He thrusted harder, straining against his boxers. “If you want to stop just say.” He teased. Knowing full well you weren’t going to tell him to stop. He shoved you slightly so you were off his knees so he could take his trousers and shorts off and then pulled you back on his lap. He pushed himself inside of your underwear, but not inside you. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He panted as he thrusted against you. You could feel his length and thickness and couldn’t help but moan as he took control of your body. “Beg for me.” Patrick commanded and you did as he told. You were so needy for him, pushing your thighs together so you could get more, trying to get him to slip inside you as you pleaded. Patrick held your hips whilst biting your neck. “Fuck me, please, god I need you, fuck, I want you so fucking badly, please just fuck me.” The words fell out of your mouth, you couldn’t really think straight.

“Good girl.” He growled in your ear and he continued to thrust, tormenting you with his cock. “Are you thinking about him now?” You were moaning as each thrust slid against you. Your pants got louder and louder and Patrick pulled your nipple a little harder. “Tell me.” He picked up the pace of the thrusts. “No.” You shook your head. “No, because you wouldn’t do this to Art right?” He wrapped his arm around you and put his hand into your underwear, reaching for your clit. His fingers brushed against you as he continued to tease. You felt a pang of guilt but it felt too good in that moment. “Cmon good girl, say it.” You were bouncing on his lap now as he pushed himself against your underwear. “I’m not… I’m not doing anything.” Patrick was smirking against your back. “Because you’re a toy being used.” He was relentless. “Because I’m a toy being used.” He moved his fingers closer on your clit and adjusted himself so you sat down on his cock. You squealed as you took him in you. “Good girl.” He wasn’t stopping until you came and it was close. The teasing, the dirty talk, the betrayal was all getting you so worked up. “You want to cum for me don’t you?” He teased, he knew exactly what you wanted. What you needed. He put his head over your shoulder so you could see him, you turned to look at him. You felt like you hadn’t had your eyes opened for the entire time. “This isn’t about what you want.” He groans as he continued to fuck your over and over again, making you beg for him. Each request he denied you, so much so that you were close to tears with each thrust. You felt like he was never going to let you. Never going to give you what you need. “Come for me.” He whispers gently against your ear and you do as he wished, finally able to release what you had been begging for.

“Arts not going to find out.” He whispered to you as he finished, filling you, enough that you could feel him dripping down the side of you. You gasped trying to steady your breath. “God, you’re so fucking good.” He whispered to you as he held you on his cock. He inspected the bruises that he left on your neck. “We will have to do something about your neck, sorry, got carried away.” He put his head against your shoulder. “Maybe your chest too, Jesus you bruise like a peach.” The guilt falls on you immediately after you finished. “What the fuck have we just done?” You say, still wrapped around him.

[moments-on-film]

Carmy doesn’t know who he is yet

I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I’ve come to the conclusion that Carmen doesn’t really know who he is. He doesn’t know himself enough to know what actually makes him happy. This impacts how he views himself, how he sees himself in relation to other people, and it also helps explain why his life feels so empty, why he has no answer when asked questions, including “what is fun for you?”

In the group session in S2E3, Carmy shares,

“I think when I was a kid, anything that would give me any sort of excitement or amusement or enjoyment, it always got kind of f-d.”

What I took from this is that he used to have things that he was passionate and excited about, maybe even things he found fun, made him laugh, brought him joy, and they got ruined, by his family. He likely didn’t start out in life with the outlook he has now. Life, and the abuse and trauma he has survived taught him to repress his true feelings, not express himself, and not communicate his needs and desires, for fear of what would happen if he did.

We know that Carmy is an artist, in more ways than one. Carmy is an artist through the food he creates. In S1E8, he describes how he felt that by cooking he could “communicate through creativity”, which must have been an incredible self discovery for him. Unfortunately, it appears that is the only creative discovery about himself he has been able to act on. His latent artistic talents include a connection to clothing and the ability to draw beautiful, realistic sketches of food and people (from what we have been shown so far). I believe art was Carmy’s first, true passion but it has been beaten out of him.

In S2E6, in the first scene between him and his mom, Carmy is helping in the kitchen and his mother brings up Steven. She says to Carmy, “Is cousin Michelle’s friend Steven, is he gay? Steven, is he gay? I mean he seems kind of gay. You know, he’s arty.”

This raised a HUGE red flag for me upon first viewing. Donna is equating being arty with being gay, and with negative connotations. Now at this point in S2, we don’t yet know that Carmy used to draw Claire, or that he drew the framed sketch that he gives to Michael as a Christmas present of their dream restaurant, The Bear, (we find out both later in this episode), or that he drew the chaos menu he shows to Sydney in S2E8. All we know so far is that he used to draw (pants) in high school. In S2E5, Carmy tells Claire that after meeting who we now know was Thom Browne at his restaurant in New York, he said he felt like he “wanted to start drawing again.” Claire says, “the dream returned”, and Carmy looks down and looks so sad.

Maybe his initial dream really was to be an artist, but his mom, brother, and Richie all “giving him a hard time” about drawing, and probably being made fun of ruined it for him, so he repressed that side of himself, tamped it down, and denied what he was actually passionate about. What could have been a great source of joy and happiness is now associated with suppression and shame.

Carmy didn’t go to college. He didn’t get to try new things, take classes and discover new passions, meet new people, or expose himself to possibilities that life could offer. He didn’t have friends or girlfriends growing up. The only people (historically) he’s ever been around are family, who see him a certain way, and his various staff, which he manages and leads. Claire sees him a certain way because she knows his past and understands his (past) behavior. She tells him “you’re really shy”, not you were really shy or you used to be shy—no, she is speaking about his past in the present tense. All of this boxes Carmy in, behaviorally.

Carmy tells Claire he always wanted to have friends, so wistfully. At the party Claire takes him to in S2E5, he gets mistaken for someone else, Logan Fernello, but doesn’t correct the situation. He escapes into this alter ego and literally pretends to be someone else so he can have a conversation with a group of would be friends. The group of guys he’s talking to don’t know who he is and he uses this as an opportunity to reinvent himself. This scene really threw me the first time I saw it, not just because he’s telling a story to a rapt audience, but because in 13 episodes, he has never been this animated. It’s as if he’s channeling the best parts of what he loved about Michael in this moment. He’s never really allowed himself to make friends with new people and explore and expand certain aspects of his personality. Is he shy is this scene? Absolutely not. The moment ends when Claire comes over and steers him out of the situation, which made me think—How is Carmy supposed to explore new parts of himself around people from his past who have already made up their minds about who he is and how he’s supposed to behave?

Instead of going to college, where, among other things, he would have had new experiences and met new people, Carmy threw himself into work. He saw colleagues as competition and worked himself to the bone. He’s been a chef in Malibu, California, Napa Valley, California, Copenhagen, Denmark, and New York, New York, but Carmy never talks about his experiences in these locations unless it’s tied to work. Did he ever explore in these cities and locations and allow himself to have a good time?

Carmy’s empty apartment is also indicative of his suppressed emotions and personality. We know he has a great eye and talent for creativity and beauty, yet his apartment reflects none of this. There’s barely anything on the walls, apart from a few things in his room. There is no personality to be found. Everything is his apartment is to serve a function, but there is nothing sentimental, nostalgic, creative or reflective of his life experiences or travels on display.

In S2E1, Carmy has a moment alone in his empty apartment. It’s a quiet moment, but one of extreme unease. He simply does not know how to relax, how to just be. He plays with his pocket knife and opens his phone. This moment is notable because he essentially has no apps on his phone apart from the preloaded ones. No entertainment, no games, nothing personal. It’s as devoid of his personality as his apartment.

Carmy tells his sister in S1E6 that he feels trapped because he can’t describe how he’s feeling. I believe Carmy senses and feels things deeply, but he has a very hard time putting his emotions into words. I think this is why Carmy has such a talent for giving such sweet and thoughtful gifts. He listens, he pays attention, and he really considers what people need and want. A gift can say so much, and express deep emotion, without the need for words.

Carmy knows his knife will give Tina confidence at culinary school, and so, in the subtlest way possible, he gifts it to her. Sending Richie to stage with chef Terry was life changing. Carmy must have put a lot of thought into what Richie needs, and he gave him that experience from his heart. Even in S1E3, the small act of Carmy bringing Sydney a plate of food to eat because he thought she might be hungry, spoke volumes. His gift to her of the chef coat was a declaration of love because not only did he listen to her when she expressed interest in his, he customized it for her perfectly, down to the smallest detail.

When Carmy tells Sydney, “you’re not alone”, as he gives her this beautiful gift, there is an ocean of emotion, care, thought, consideration, respect, and yes, love, in those three words. It’s as if he can sense and feel exactly what her deepest fear is and he comforts her by essentially letting her know, “I see you, please don’t worry. You’re safe with me. I’ll watch over you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Even if I wasn’t before, I’m here for you now and I’m not leaving.” He might have to tamp down his feelings, needs and desires, and not put them into words, but he does not want Sydney to experience that same type of pain. This makes his “say more, please” line to get her to speak all the more sweet, tender, and poignant.

From what we have seen so far, Carmy has never been nurtured and never really been loved, unconditionally. To discover who you are, what moves, motivates, excites and enamours you, you have to have experiences, you have to be able to leap into the unknown. I don’t think he’s ever felt safe enough emotionally to explore and express parts of himself with freedom to discover who he is and what actually makes him happy.

I think so many of Carmy’s self identity struggles and mental health issues arise from the abuse he’s had to survive and the trauma he’s endured. It has made him shut down, close off, repress and stifle his urges, emotions, and passions. I also must add that what brings me hope for him is how he is able to express himself with honestly, vulnerability, care and tenderness with the new people in his life, but most importantly, with Sydney. She is not connected to his past, and I think together they could have a beautiful future. That future might not always be in the kitchen, but that is ok.

I really hope Carmy is on a journey of self discovery and into who he is and what brings him joy, peace and happiness. I hope he gets the professional help he needs and is able to untangle his suppressed, confused, internalized emotions, put words to feelings, and finally live life to the fullest. Most importantly, I hope he allows himself the grace to know himself, express himself, and truly love himself. When he does, I know his love for others will take on a whole new dimension of creativity and beauty, just like his art.

©️moments-on-film 2023

[af-answers]

Have you ever made plans and then had them change drastically somewhere along the lines? Were you able to accept and grow from that?

Juliet: I never really wanted to be a bodyguard. I respect Dom, of course, but he made it clear from my preteen years that I should do whatever made me happy.

And I did. I made a career in pro wrestling, and was damn good at it. I made a lot of friends, traveled, partied. I won't pretend it wasn't thrilling, even fulfilling.

Then Artemis disappeared-- the first time. I came home to be there for Dom, but then Mrs. Fowl announced her pregnancy with the twins...

They never pressured me to be a Butler: in fact, Mrs. Fowl kept asking when I was planning to go back on tour. They hoped Dom would take on the twins, both because he had more experience, and to help him recover from Arty's loss. But he refused. It was the first time he'd ever said no to the Fowls, and the first time he'd inconvenienced me. He was convinced Artemis would come back.

I took care of Dom until the twins were born, then I took care of Dom and the twins. Minerva did help with my brother, though at the time I thought she was enabling him more than anything.

Then Artemis came back and screwed everything up again, as per usje.

I dunno. Maybe I'll go back to pro wrestling someday, or do something else entirely. I've been raised to live my own life, not the one tradition has for me. But for now, I'm happy to take care of the people I love. Going from serving out of duty to serving out of love is growth, for me. I could have grown the same way under different circumstances, but this is how it's happening and I've come to terms with it.

[drpeppertummy]

ik conrads on top of the old man poll rn but im attacking my latest pal artie first bc i already had a plan

[very mild stuffing, mostly a whole lot of just Doin Stuff with little scraps of tummy in between]

"Alright, kid. You ever shuck a clam before?"

Celeste shook her head.

"It's not so hard. Look here," said Artie, taking a clam in one hand and the knife in the other. "You just stick it in that little groove..." Celeste watched nervously as he held the clam up to his face, carefully aligning the little knife in the miniscule notch between the lips of the shell. She wasn't entirely confident that he wasn't going to slice his finger off. She'd come to realize over the months that while he wasn't completely blind, he often put on that he could see a lot better than he really could. Still, he wedged the knife into the groove and, with a soft grunt, popped the shell open.

"Ta-da," he said, plucking away the top of the shell and setting it aside. "It takes a little elbow grease, but you'll get the hang of it. Anybody in your family any good at shucking clams?"

"I don't think so."

"Mine either. That's why it's important to learn. Every family's gotta have a clam shucker. Puts you high on the food chain. Here, give it a shot." He passed her the knife. She hesitantly picked up a clam, looked at it for a moment, and carefully lined up the knife.

Celeste managed to open one clam--hey, good girl, Artie had exclaimed with a firm pat on the back--before injuring herself, and then she was sent to chopping duty. She didn't have much in the way of culinary skills, but dicing the bacon and peppers was a far less daunting task than wrestling with the little mollusks. Artie, nerve-wracking though he was, blew through the rest of the bag with ease, opening up a couple dozen littlenecks in the same amount of time it took Celeste to chop up a pepper and a few pieces of bacon. Still, he praised her efforts--hey, choppin' ain't easy, especially with your hand all taped up--and they went on assembling the clams.

Artie had insisted on going all out for Celeste's birthday, and she'd driven him out to a little shack down the road to pick up some seafood. Following a good lesson on cooking, the two sat down for a mouthwatering dinner of pasta with seared scallops and lump crab meat in a garlicky wine sauce, accompanied by what Artie boasted as the best clams casino she'd ever try.

"Damn fine job you did on these," remarked Artie, holding up a clam. "You get the shucking down, you're set. You got your go-to party dish. I tell ya, this recipe has never done me wrong. You'll never wanna get 'em anywhere else."

Celeste wasn't the clam connoisseur that Artie seemed to be, but she couldn't deny that the clams were delicious, and the two ate enough of them to fill up even without the pasta. The pasta was, of course, not neglected either. The sauce was light and savory, and it mingled beautifully with the sweet crab and the buttery scallops. She could hardly believe she'd had anything to do with it. Nobody had ever bothered to teach her to cook, and her kitchen endeavors rarely got more complicated than stirring a frozen dinner between microwave sessions.

The pasta went down easy, and it was hard to stop eating, but it wasn't long before the bulkiness of it had both of them feeling full and sleepy. Still, Celeste went on picking at it. Artie, however, set his fork down and leaned back in his seat.

"Whoof, I'm stuffed," he sighed, resting a hand on his belly. "I don't think I can finish."

Truthfully, Celeste was surprised he ate as much as he did. Artie was small, and fairly slim for his age, which he chalked up to not having much of an appetite some days and not even being able to get out of bed on others. Tonight, though, he'd put away a good percentage of the big serving of pasta, along with about a dozen of the clams, and even under the compression of his back brace, she could tell his belly was full. Smiling fondly, she stood up and began to clear away their plates.

"Whoa, hey, it's your birthday, ain't it? Let me do it," said Artie, taking her arm as she reached for his plate.

"Oh, come on. You did all the work," she insisted, and he scoffed.

"I most certainly did not! Which of us was out there on the battlefield, chopping stuff up and boiling pasta? Wasn't me."

"Yeah, but you did the hard parts," she exclaimed, laughing. Artie pushed himself out of the chair with a groan.

"Difficulty is relative," he said with an impish smile, shaking a finger at her. "You did your part, now take a seat, missy, and that's final!"

Celeste rolled her eyes and sat down. There was no arguing with Artie; he was stubborn as a mule, and if he wanted to clean, there was no stopping him. She supposed he had a point, anyway--what was simple for a kitchen whiz like him took a lot more time and effort for a novice like her. Still, she stood again a moment later and joined him in cleaning up, and this time, he let her.

Artie relented and let Celeste take over washing the dishes--better eyes, he said--while he got the rest of the kitchen straightened up. Between the two of them, it didn't take long. While Celeste wasn't much of a cook, she was quick when it came to cleaning, although this skill didn't extend far beyond the kitchen sink. Feeling stuffed and eager to rest, they retreated to the living room, Celeste taking a seat on the couch while Artie dropped himself into the armchair across from her.

"Sheesh, I think I'm gonna have to adjust myself," he said, leaning back and untucking his shirt to loosen the brace wrapped around his middle. Celeste caught a glimpse of his full tummy pushing out snug against his undershirt, and she was thankful he couldn't see well enough to catch her blushing. Artie was only a friend, of course; he was nearly thrice her age, but there was little more tantalizing than a peek of tummy. He let his shirt fall back down with a sigh, looking far more comfortable, and Celeste was amused to see how much rounder his belly looked now that he'd given it some slack.

"You look stuffed," she giggled.

"Oh yeah?" Artie rested both hands on his belly, giving it a little pat for emphasis. "And what about you?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty full," she agreed, settling back into the couch cushion.

"Good, you better be. You did a great job cooking tonight."

"You think so?"

"I know so! You're gettin' good at this stuff, Celeste."

[fang-and-feather]

WIP Ask Game

Thank you for the tags @rjthirsty, @wistfulwanderingone, @keithsandwich, @scorchieart.

I didn't have space to access Tumblr on my PC so it took me a while to make this

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I have a lot of WIPs and only listed the ones for the Ikemen Series (if I was to list the old SCM ones this would take a while longer).

Untitled Document (but an old version of it with deleted scenes was named Handcuffs WIP)

Leon/Carina WIP

Leo - Festa

Actor AU - Yves

Actor AU - Licht

Mozart - Carriage

Naps - Payback

Chev - Family

IkePri Girls Night

Naps Reincarnated C2

Sebastian - Birthday C2

Vincent/Jean WIP

Leonardo - Storm

Amy/Sebastian Soulmates AU

Comte/Hikari Soulmates P2

Charles - Pre Party

Vamp/Sen Sedoretu

Charles/Vincent/Reader

Leonardo - Storm II (apparently I have two WIPs with the same name, similar ideas, different stories and continuities)

Jean/Amy/Isaac - Soulmates AU C2

F! Arth Poly WIP C2

Theo Omegaverse

Cyran WIP

Sasuke Birthday

Vincent's Birthday

Arth/Isaac/Vincent Christmas Card

Mistake or not

Will/Vincy//Reader - Magic AU C2

Charles - Confession

Arty/Theo - FWB

Reflection of Lust

Aphrodisiac Chaos

Aphrodisiac Chaos V2

Between two Loves

Insomnia

Hide and Tease

Love the way you are

Secret Desires

Jean - Pegging

Seb - First Time

Will/Vincy - Bondage

Jean/Mo

IkeVamp ToD Prolog

Silly Crossovers - Minecraft

Silly Crossovers - Yugioh

Silly Crossovers - Ayakashi

Alternate Universes - Pokemon

Pokemon Crossover Polycule

Not tagging anyone because I don't have that many people, especially that haven't been included by someone else yet (and I still have to catch up with)

[niftukkun]

=The Exiled=

[A fierce combatant with unrelenting claws and a better jump than most. With rage in your heart, yours is a path is lined with constant blood and wrath.]

[Little Gods and Passing Beasts AU, aka roleswapped rain world! ;; more under the cut]

scug Pebbles in Artificer's campaign!! as is only right. they have rage-to-rage communication no matter the world lmao.

so yeah pebbles with a hella grudge. a little bit of a twist though, in this campaign you are not targeting scavengers, but vultures. vultures in the Inquirer, Hearth, Skydiver, and Exiled campaigns are much more common compared to Drifter, Surveyor, and Martyr's campaigns. id imagine theyre still limited to certain areas and maybe even regions - so for example, no vultures in the shaded citadel equivalent, but in areas where they can be encountered, there would be very very many of them and an extremely high likelihood of encounter and death. to keep things balanced, however, the hp of regular vultures and king vultures are lowered, though not by that much only to like 50 or 75% of their actual HP. to fight, Exiled has a maul like Artificer but better and a double jump ability similar to Arti but without the actual bomb part. they also have the boosted spear damage like Arti and Hunter. i am also very tempted to give them Gourmand's drop slam thing just for funsies but thats only a maybe right now. in the Exiled campaign, it starts like Artificers in getting a citizen ID drone, and starts picking up when you get to the metropolis equivalent ive been calling Lofty Roost. after exploring for a bit you may find the tallest building, the highest perch, and encounter the King Miros Vulture (>20 HP, essentially a miros vulture w the harpoons, slightly faster land walk speed, and a cool unique vulture mask).

the Exiled was once a young, arrogant and slightly callous little scuppy. upon reaching hunting age, the Not Yet Exiled decided to be a little... risky. decided to hunt a vulture, a common threat in the colony's territory, all by themself. and they succeeded. at the time, the Not Yet Exiled was the only one injured, the only one who got close enough to the successfully hunted vulture to get a scar in their eye. when the rest of the hunting party drew close however, is when things started going wrong. the King Miros Vulture was in the area. everyone was too occupied, too distracted to see it before it swooped down and struck. the Hearth, kindest and loved by the colony, got snapped up. thankfully it was a fairly large hunting party, so no one died. though quite a lot were injured, the Hearth had the worst injury and that was only because every scug was caught off guard. however, it was still a hunting party. sure the colony can forage and they do have a stockpile of food, but thats a big blow to food acquirement, and the Hearth, who was only there because it was their little sibling's first hunt, was injured to the point it would take several cycles for them to recover - if they will at all. so. the colony leaders decided to exile the young scug. this was their first hunt. their skill assessment, to see if they are fit to hunt at all - and they went out on their own and decided to hunt one of the biggest threats in the area. sure, it was successful, and if they did manage to bring back the vulture with no one else hurt the colony leaders might have even considered giving the young scug a reward in the name of sharpening their already exceptional hunting skills - but they went out on their own when slugcats are supposed to hunt together, to make sure everyone comes home. willful endangerment of an entire party like that,, they can't let it slide. so the Exile was exiled. given instructions of a territory far enough away where the hunting is good and told they are never able to go home. it angered them. it was a successful hunt! they took down a vulture! sure a couple scugs were injured but it wasnt their fault! they dont know if their sibling is alive oh stars what have they done.

after quite a lot of cycles living alone, stewing in anger and guilt and hunting down almost exclusively vultures, they decide to move. they make their way,,, somewhere. and find an odd device that starts following them around. after more wandering they eventually find an iterator named Explosive Redamancy, fallen but functional and calling them her citizen? sure. more importantly she gives them information on where the King Miros Vulture is! Revenge Will Be Theirs!!! revenge will not bring Hearth back. will not let them back in their colony. is it even worth it? it has to be. what else could they do?

[the-al-chemist]

The Smallest Victory

A/N: today was Artemis’ 50th birthday, and to celebrate I decided to publish the story of her 27th birthday, and someone else’s birth. It also fits the theme of @hp-12monthsofmagic: Victory! Hope you enjoy. Warnings: mentions of childbirth and war.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more bored in my life.”

Charlie looked up from the copy of Which Broomstick? that he was currently thumbing through and regarded Artemis from the corner of his eye.

“You could still go out,” he said. “Chiara or Penny might still be free.”

“Penny won’t be able to get a babysitter at this short notice, and Chiara’s working here tonight. She might even be with Fleur,” Artemis exhaled heavily, blowing a stray strand of hair away from her face. “No. I’ll stay here. I should stay here. I just didn’t think there’d be this much waiting, that’s all. Do you reckon it’ll be much longer?”

“I dunno, Artie. I’ve never had a baby before. I don’t know how long it takes.”

“Ages, apparently.”

Artemis let out another huff of air, and slumped against the back of her seat with her arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently. Charlie closed his magazine.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

“Why? You’re not the one having a baby.”

“I know, but this wasn’t how you wanted to spend your birthday.”

That was true. Artemis had intended to spend her birthday at Bill and Fleur Weasley’s cottage in Cornwall, with sand and sea and a crackling bonfire. Unfortunately, her best laid plans had been scuppered earlier that evening by the arrival of a lion-shape Patronus, which had spoken with Bill’s voice and informed her that his wife had gone into labour, and that the pair of them were about to go to the hospital. Both she and Charlie had also gone straight to St Mungo’s hospital, where they had taken seats in the waiting room and waited. And waited. And were still waiting, even now.

“It’s fine, Charlie,” she said. “I mean, I’ve had worse birthdays.”

Another truth, albeit an unpleasant one. The previous two years, her birthday had been overshadowed by the battle that had taken so many lives, including those of her friend Tonks and Bill and Charlie’s younger brother Fred. The battle had broken out in the evening of her twenty-fifth birthday, and her twenty-sixth then became the first anniversary of the event.

This year, though she would turn twenty-seven on the eve of the victory and memorial, the fact seemed to linger less heavily on her mind now that yet another year had passed. Still, at her words, Charlie’s jaw tensed slightly. Artemis shook her head and unfolded her arms, guilty that she had accidentally caused harm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

Before Artemis could continue further, the doors of the waiting room swung open, revealing a middle-aged couple, a tall wizard with glasses and a plump witch in a knitted poncho, both with red hair; Bill and Charlie’s parents. Behind them trailed a much younger witch with a face almost as freckled as Charlie’s and her hair - also red - pulled up into a messy bun: their youngest child and Charlie’s only sister, Ginny.

“Oh, you’re here already,” said Charlie’s mother, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement. “Any news?”

“None yet.”

“Oh, well. These things can take time.”

“Don’t we know it,” Artemis muttered. Mrs Weasley turned to her, beaming.

“And happy birthday, Artemis, dear,” she said. She removed her bag from her shoulder and pulled out a box of small triangular sandwiches. “Your present is at home, but I thought there was no point in the party food going to waste. Unless you had dinner before you came here?”

Artemis took the box of sandwiches from Mrs Weasley’s hands and wrenched it open. “No, I’m starving. Thanks.”

“Neither of us had time to eat anything,” Charlie explained, also helping himself to a sandwich. “We both came straight here after Bill sent his Patronus.”

“Really? But that was almost three hours ago!” Mrs Weasley shook her head. “I don’t know why you rushed. The baby was unlikely to arrive before now.”

“But it should come soon now that you’re here, right?”

“Maybe. Could be in the next half an hour-”

“Thank Godric,” said Artemis.

“- or it might be another three hours.”

“What?”

“Or longer, who knows?” Apparently oblivious to the look on Artemis’ face, Mrs Weasley clapped her hands together. “Oh, it’s so exciting, isn’t it? Now, where did they take Bill and Fleur? We should make sure they have eaten something, the food here is terrible, after all.”

Once she had been told where to go, Mrs Weasley and her set off to deliver refeshments - presumably more sandwiches - to their eldest son and his wife. Ginny Weasley remained in the waiting room, flumping herself down in the chair on the other side of Charlie, who had returned his attention to his magazine. Ginny leaned forward to talk across him.

“Do you think she’s done it on purpose?” she asked Artemis, who frowned.

“What? Who?”

“Fleur, obviously,” Ginny shrugged and raised her eyebrows. “I mean the baby wasn’t meant to be here for another two weeks, and now it’s coming on your birthday, when she was supposed to be having everyone over.”

“So, you think she’s having a baby to get out of having people over for dinner?” Artemis asked. Beside her, Charlie gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, still looking determinedly at his open magazine.

“Maybe,” said Ginny. “And it’s just the sort of thing she’d do, isn’t it? Steal your thunder by having a baby on your birthday.”

“No, she wouldn’t… She… I mean, could she?”

Artemis directed her question at Charlie, who did not even lift his head to look at her as he answered:

“I really don’t think that’s how it works.”

Ginny clearly thought otherwise, for she mouthed ‘I bet she did’ at Artemis before leaning back in her seat so that she was out of sight. As Mr and Mrs Weasley returned from seeing Bill and Fleur, Artemis returned to her sandwiches. She was still bored, but now that she was being fed, she at least felt less annoyed.

But, as eight o’clock became nine, and nine became ten, then eleven, both the sandwiches and Artemis’ patience dwindled. Beside her, Charlie had managed to drift off into a slumber, but she was only growing increasingly restless. After her fidgeting reached the point that it had roused Charlie from his sleep, the two of them decided to find some sort of entertainment, and roamed the hospital corridors in search of somewhere where they might do just that.

When they returned to the waiting room, they found it completely and eerily empty, void of any people or noise. The flickering light of a candelabra on the wall was the only movement to be seen.

“Where did everyone go?”

Before Artemis’ question could be answered - or indeed, in answer to her question - Bill appeared from the direction of the wards. His face was pale and tired looking, but his eyes were bright and his smile was broad. He strode straight across the waiting room towards them and pulled each of them into a hug.

“There you are! Where did you go?” He did not even wait for them to reply before continuing, “Never mind, you’re here now. And so is she. The baby.”

“That’s great, mate,” said Charlie, hugging his brother again. “Is Fleur alright? Is she-”

“Fleur’s fine, so is the baby, she’s… She’s perfect. Come and see.”

Bill beckoned them through to the wards, where the entire Weasley family, Fleur’s parents and sister, and Artemis’ Healer friend Chiara were gathered around a hospital bed. Lying in the bed was an exhausted looking but still irritatingly beautiful Fleur, a small bundle of cloth in her arms. Bill sat on the bed and took the bundle from her, and everyone leaned in to see the pink, wrinkly, and slightly crusty baby inside.

“We haven’t decided on a name yet,” Bill said, his voice gentler than Artemis had ever heard it before. “We thought we still had a couple of weeks left to make up our minds, but this little one had other ideas.” He looked up at Artemis. “Sorry about your birthday.”

“If it’s any consolation, I enjoyed it less than you did,” muttered Fleur wryly, a comment that was met with a few quiet chuckles.

“And what better gift is there than the gift of life?”

“I dunno, Molly,” Artemis shrugged at Bill’s mother. “I asked for a new camera.”

There was another round of soft chuckles, but Bill merely shook his head.

“Well, you’ll have to make do with a goddaughter instead,” he told Artemis, whose jaw dropped open.

“Goddaughter? Really?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Bill shared a glance with his wife. “Why not?”

Artemis turned to Charlie. “You owe me a Sickle.”

“No, he doesn’t. You’re both godparents.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind sharing,” said Artemis, as much to Charlie as to their goddaughter’s parents. “I’m going to have to get used to sharing my birthday anyway.”

“Actually,” Chiara looked up from the clipboard she held in her hands, “she was born just after midnight, so her birthday is the second of May, not the first.”

The clock on the wall confirmed Chiara’s words. It was past midnight. It was exactly two years after the battle that had ended the war. The entire family was still, silent, and solemn.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think it’s rather lovely,” Chiara said softly. “The idea that this day will be one of happiness in the future, rather than one filled with bad memories. It’s a small victory, but…”

“It is a victory, just the same.” Bill’s father nodded slowly. “Perhaps you should name her something to reflect that?”

“You could call her Joy!”

“That’s so old-fashioned, Mum,” said Ginny, with a noise of derision. “How about Hope?”

“Or Victoria?”

“Well,” Bill looked from his wife to his in-laws and back, “we were hoping for something French…”

“Victoire.”

“Sorry?”

“Victoire,” Fleur repeated. “It is the French for Victoria. It means victory.”

“It’s pretty,” her husband said. He looked down at the baby in his arms. “It suits her, don’t you think?”

“I do, yes.”

“Then that’s settled,” said Mr Weasley. He pointed his wand at a carton of pumpkin juice on the nightstand, which turned into a large bottle of champagne. Chiara frowned.

“Um, you can’t actually drink alcohol in here,” she said, but her voice tailed off as Mr Weasley continued to conjure fluted glasses from thin air. She sighed. “Oh, never mind.”

Once the glasses had been distributed, Mr Weasley raised his in a toast.

“To our own very small victory.”

“To the smallest of victories,” his son George chipped in, smiling at his tiny niece. Mr Weasley inclined his head.

“To Victoire.”

One by one, the others raised their glasses.

“To Victoire.”

[hearts401]

@charade-yes-from-youtube MCI!!! YIPPEE!!!

Gabriel:

-Oldest kid william killed. hes 12 and has a baby sister and a big brother (his brother is grown and is mike schmidt in my fnaf timeline)

-LOVES sports. he played a lot when he was young, but his favorite is basketball

-His family has a lot of issues, so he's a lot more mature than he should be.

-He actually disliked cassidy in life. to him she was too bossy and bratty, but he didnt care bc she was younger than him

-One of the more vengeful, since he thinks a lot about his baby sister and it makes him PISSED. hes close to cassidy and is super protective of his friends. Of course this means he violently hates michael

-extra one but he's very bitter about being in the animatronic. as much as he wants revenge, he also is one of the first to side with cassidy against charlie

Fritz:

-about 9 when he died, he's not as vengeful. He was mostly just scared at first.

-Close with Susie and was present when the bite happened. He wasn't close with Evan (hes younger than Ev) but he felt really bad whenever he saw him around

-He played soccer <33 which is why he was able to run away from william long enough to cause trouble

-Autistic, selectively nonverbal and doesnt talk a lot bc of it. he gets overstimulated by loud noises

-He had no siblings, but he was super duper close with susie. Her death fucked him up a lot and if it weren't for his birthday arty, he would not have gone back to the pizzeria ever. he'd hoped the party would cheer him up

-turned on charlie quicker than expected. he hates being in foxy and hes scared, so he doesnt trust her. he also viewed it as a selfish decision especially when cassidy framed it that way

Jeremy:

-Was very aggressive with william but couldnt do much. he was 9 (turning ten in a few months maybe) when he died

-hes not vengeful tho, not as much as cassidy or gabriel. hes moreso sad.

-sides with gabriel on everything EXCEPT charlie. he trusts charlie and believes she brought them back for a reason. but he went with gabriel because he didnt wanna leave him behind

-his big brother is the bonnie bully (andy my love <3) and their relationship changed a lot post bite. jeremy didnt know what happened until after he died, tho. hes not evans biggest fan bc evan helped cassidy turn the others against charlie and he hated to see her isolated like that

-he thinbks its hilarious that the nightguard has the same name as his. less so when said nightguard gets a chunk taken out of his face

Susie: (@walking-fnaf-encyclopedia u asked too <3)

-8 when she died. was there for the bite but didnt actually see it happen. she just knew a kid died because of the robots and only really knew what happened when she was told post-death

-surprisingly vengeful. this girl can fit a lot o anger in her. shes bitter that her death was based on a stupid theory, and even more bitter that charlie helped prove the theory true.

-despite that, it took a while for her to give up on charlie. in fact the split between the mci and charlie ruined her view of evan and cassidy more than it did charlie. susie, just like jeremy, could tell they were isolating her and she did not like it. she doesnt fully blame them (considering she agrees with them) but she believed there was a better way. they were already here, why not work together?

-her dog possesses the cupcake! she knows this and cherishes the little guy but she also feels so fucking sad her poor dog got dragged into this. he seems pretty chill with it tho LMAO

-actually the most chill w the nightguard. after all, its not him who wronged her lol

Cassidy:

MY FAV MY BELOVED OKAY

-11 when she died. second oldest meow and she fucking FOUGHT LIKE HELL. whatever jeremy did to will was nothing compared to her. she was a cornered rabbit and she showed her claws she fucked him UP. broke his nose cut his face she did everything to get away from him. he had to make up a story about a person attacking him (which ended up being the first lie henry cracked that lead up to him finding out william was the killer so. pop off cass)

-Knew evan before she died. did not gaf abt him. he was just the whiny kid to her. but tbf she didnt know anything about michael. she'd shoo off any bullies she saw hanging around him, though. he noticed but never mentioned it

-violent anger she got from her mother. yeah you can assume what her home life was like. she had a lot of expectations placed on her as the only child. her parents were business people, always rushing and never pausing to let her catch up, so she learned to keep running, fall less, and work harder. of course, the faster you go the harder you'll fall but dont tell her that

-loves dressing herself up, but her mother prefers to do it. cassidy hates hwen other people make decisions for her (which contrasts evans hate for making decisions himself)

-violently hates charlie. they used to be close when alive but post death not only was cassidy pissed that charlie brought the other kids back (in my hc, cassidy came back of her own accord) but also that charlie now wanted to give up on their mission for vengence. she found the "happiest day" to be trivializing their cause and, once the other kids were gone and passed on, promptly destroyed it. Evan similarly refused to move on, and they stayed behind together

-despite this, cassidy did try to convince charlie not to go to the pizza sim location. charlie didnt listen, got trapped in lefty, and caused cassidy to have a severe hatred for henry that lasts on and on and on for a long time until she finally visited him at the lake. but hes just like his daughter, and cassidy listened to him even less than shed listened to charlie

[sapphicdib]

r u willing to give us some info abt the streamer au? You’ve mentioned it before but I’m just curious abt it tbh :D

oh I AM MORE THAN WILLING. PREPARE URSELF

so: what happens when you put the physical manifestation of ADHD into an apartment with 3 different flavors of autism, give her a successful twitch career, and blast all of them with Beam Of Insufferably Horny?

the streamer au LMFAO (putting this under a cut bc it got. INSANELY long omfg)

normally i dont rlly like human aus (they’re just not my thing) but this stupid au wormed it’s way into my heart and now i cherish it lmfao. there’s no real set plot, there’s just Situations these lil guys get into. some are soft and adorable (ie. pebbles’ first kiss with sig) or hilarious (sig’s ridiculous amount of flirting with his own chat) or just fuckin stupid (their halloween stream where they do a whole production where chat has to figure out who “killed” sig and it’s just chaos). tbh ive found myself accidentally focusing on the ragequit aspect of the au despite the entire polycule being a thing (lilypad, sunstone, traffic light, ragequit, and hurricane all happen)

i think the Main Things that sum up the au are:

Sig punched Pebbles’ transphobic (now ex) boyfriend in the face and spent a night in jail bc of it LMFAO

Pebbles and Suns meet after Sig drags Pebbles to a party at the college he attends (and Sig attended for a single semester before the whole streamer thing took off). Suns went to catholic school and is incredibly repressed and hesitant with Pebbles and Sig ends up having to instigate a lot of shit to prevent them from just fuckin. never going past hand holding.

Speaking of, Pebbs is an art major and drew all of Sig’s custom emotes. He also loves drawing everyone in the apartment, though usually keeps those drawings hidden from everyone in his sketchbooks

Wind and Sig being childhood best friends who are each others ride or die, they were each others first like, everything. The funniest one being where Wind is having a crisis bc he thinks he might be gay and Sig is just like “hm well I’m kinda a guy maybe kiss me and see if you like it?” And well. Wind has been kissing this fool for 7 years now and does not plan on stopping.

Moon is usually a moderator but does make appearances occasionally and chat loves her. Suns will not go on camera without a face mask. Pebbles was originally camerashy but ends up being in pretty much every stream after a while.

Sig refuses to tell chat his gender and thinks it’s funny watching everyone guess. If you ask/ask for pronouns he just replies with “whatever’s funniest” or “whatever makes this gay”, or if someone’s being rude about it, “whatever pisses you off most”

Sig is like. Insanely good at FPS games and holds multiple top rankings in competitive esports. Yui (Unparalleled Innocence) is one of her main rivals. It’s cute tho. They’re like. rivals who kiss.

Pebbles is Moon’s adopted brother, and has some pretty bad weakness in his hands/legs bc he had cancer as a child. They all support him a lot (Pebbles is rlly stubborn about “being okay”) and Sig does a lot of charity streams for things like forgiving medical debt and cancer research. Sig and Moon bought a huge thing of stickers to help decorate Pebbles’ crutches so he’d like them more.

Pebbles’ name is Pebbles because Moon came up with it as a nickname when they were kids, and when Pebbles came out he chose that as his name. Moon cried about it. Also I just like the whole “transmasc w a silly name” thing bc I feel like it fits him.

Sig helps Pebbles dye his hair (emo mf) but requires that if he helps she gets to put streaks of color in his bangs. It’s usually pink but sometimes she chooses a different color. Sig has the underside of his hair dyed purple. Pebbles’ natural hair color is a pretty light brown.

They all have their cats ofc!! Messenger, Hunter, Arti, and Ruffles!! They were all either strays they found or adopted from a shelter.

That’s all I can think of rn! I wanna draw their designs eventually (and I have but I don’t rlly like them anymore bc OUGHHH I haven’t drawn people in for-goddamn-ever) but yeah!! Damn this got long LMFAO

[klavichord]

Fun party!

Met Liz' new roommate named Artemis (the tale of two Arties begins) and saw some old people. Also got to have fun and chat with people I like, got told I'm very enjoyable, invited to a discord, and reinforced a friendship that I'm very excited about. Also drank for the first time in a month and took two tequila shots in the process.

I am curious how I will feel tomorrow lol. Walked 22 minutes back home just fine so it's looking up.

[anticomedygarden]

Our crowning glory

-

He got down on one knee/But I said "No way!"

When Catherine sang, she didn't see him. She saw herself as a young woman, fresh out of Durham House and hurling into the arms of Henry VIII.

Packed my bags/And moved into a Nu-nu-nunnery!

She should have known right then and there that her new husband wouldn't, couldn't, love her the way he should've. She should've known right then and there that the convent would've been kinder to her than the castle.

Joined the gospel choir/Our riffs were on fire

When she sang, she gave herself something new, something she deserved. She never wanted a divorce. She only wanted to live in a way worthy of her station and to raise her daughter well.

At the top of the charts/Is where I'm gonna stay

When she sang, she sang for salvation.

-

Henry sent me a poem/All about my green sleeves

When Anne sang, the guilt and heartache washed off her in waves. She stopped seeing her own head in a basket and felt hope take its place, bright and burning in her heart.

I changed a couple words/Put it on a sick beat

She wished she could give her younger self the knowledge she had now, that a life with Henry, however brief, would not make her happy. She only hoped that her daughter learned that before she did.

The song blew their minds/Next minute I was signed

When she sang, she gave herself a do over, separate from her past mistakes. She denied Henry a place in her heart and instead took her life in her own hands.

And now I'm writing lyrics/For Shakesy P

When she sang, she sang for freedom.

-

Since my first son/Our family's grown

When Jane sang, she saw her infant son, tiny and screaming in her arms. Her son, who she only got to know for 12 days before her death.

We made a band/And got quite well known

She reached out a hand to cup his chin, suddenly seeing her little baby as a young man. She savored that face, the one sitting under nearly 3 pounds of sparkling gems. This was what she had wanted with Henry, and this was what she had been denied.

You could perhaps call us/The Tudor Von Trapps

When she sang, she gave herself a family and the strength to know that she was the best she could have been. No matter when she died, she did her damn best, and she couldn’t ask anything more of herself. 

I'm just kidding/We're called the Royalling Stones

When she sang, she sang for the life she should've had.

-

What a shame/Yeah, my face/It cost me the crown

When Anna sang, she saw that stupid portrait, the one responsible for her life trajectory since that idiot king looked at it and saw a pretty, docile young girl. Sure, it made her look beautiful, but what good was beauty in this world?

So I moved to the/Haus Of Holbein!/In my hometown

In her mind's eye, she slashed through the pretty canvas with her finger nails and turned to Henry, pointer finger accusatory and dripping malice. She never should have gotten on that boat to England, and she probably wouldn’t have if she’d been given the choice to not. 

His mates were super arty/But I showed them how to party

When she sang, she put herself right back in Germany where she wanted to be all along. She would never deny that her life post crown was fabulous and resplendent, but she didn't need that. She needed passion, and something to care about, though that palace in Richmond was pretty damn great.

Now on my tour of Prussia/Everybody "Gets down"

When she sang, she sang for independence.

-

Music man tried it on/And I was like "Bye!"

When Katherine sang, she saw her 12 year old self, eyes still big and naive to the ways of the world. Even now, she was sad to admit those same eyes were drawn to the abject beauty of that child, the beauty that would cause her immense grief before her 20th birthday.

So I thought "Who needs him?/I can give it a try"

Now, she raged against the adults that had allowed that little girl to be abused so horribly for so long and then told her it was her own fault. She screamed and cried and tried to live her life on her own terms now that she had that choice.

I learned everything

When she sang, she stopped the grief before it could start. She may not have been able to change her own past, but she could damn well give that little girl something to live for.

Now all I do is sing/And I'll do that until I die

When she sang, she sang for the little girl she should've been.

-

Heard all about these rockin' chicks

When Catherine sang, she saw herself at the altar of all four of her husbands, and she felt the combined dread of each day she was forced to be tied to men who didn't deserve her.

Loved every song/And each remix

She was a published author, for god's sake, but a young, eligible woman such as herself couldn't exist for long without being snatched up by inferior men with more power than her lest she be cast from society.

So I went out and found them/And we laid down an album

When she sang, she gave herself the dignity and independence she earned through hard work. All she ever wanted was to write and maybe make life easier for the women who came after her because no one should have to go through what she and the other five queens went through.

Now "I don't need your love"/All I need is SIX!

When she sang, she sang for the love of herself.

-

also on ao3

[tinseltowns]

name :  julia sayre-sullivan gender & pronouns :  cis woman, she/her age & date of birth :  forty-three,  born  on  october 10th, 1979  zodiac :  libra  sun,  cancer  moon,  leo  rising,  libra  venus. occupation :  actress. sexuality  :  pansexual. parents :  charlotte  sayre  and  albie  sullivan husband  :  daniel riley other  relatives  :  screen  legends  odette  hughes  and  jack  sayre,  director  john  sayre,  actress  kitty  sayre,  jazz  musician  artie  sullivan faceclaim :  jessica chastain

the  story.

             the sayre family legacy stretches back to the early days of hollywood, when odette hughes was a darling of the silver screen during the silent era who would up marrying director john sayre; their son, jack sayre, would dominate hollywood throughout the 1930s and 40s as an impassioned filmmaker and sometimes-rival of orson welles, and his youngest daughter, katherine ‘kitty’ sayre, would carry the legacy as the ultimate fiery onscreen seductress throughout the 1950s and early 1960s with her flaming red hair and beguiling charm — kitty took a step back from her career in 1963 when her daughter charlotte was born, and at age 18, the spirited charlotte wound up eloping with albie sullivan, the son of famed jazz musician artie sullivan, in a laughable union that was short-lived and resulted in one saving grace: the birth of julia sayre-sullivan. 

             charlotte had taken impish delight in revolting against expectations by sidestepping the actress route and finding much better success as a screenwriter, and after the tempestuous upbringing she had endured in the sayre family, always encouraged julia to develop an identity outside of rigorous legacy. charlotte and albie had divorced just as quickly as they married, but remained close friends and cultivated a creative, loving household for young julia. the vibrant little girl cycled through countless fanciful dreams in her youth — at seven, she wanted to be a ballerina; at nine, she wanted to be a veterinarian; at twelve, she considered painting. but an adolescence spent on film sets and surrounded by industry giants had guided julia to the inevitable: she wanted to act. 

             thankfully for julia, she was not only remarkably talented in her own right, but had some of the greatest living actors in the business as her mentors. kitty sayre remained an unyielding beauty as the years progressed, and she had encouraged julia to always keep her heart open to any opportunity that floated her way. charlotte had impressed upon her daughter a fervent sense of independence and a wry, observant nature. and even albie, now married to his new partner david, would teach his daughter to never lose her sense of curiosity in the world. while julia understood the immense luxury she had been given as an offspring of the sayre family, but she took great care to ensure that her career would never be a frivolous one.

               that would remain true for julia’s career, yes, but her personal life had never truly felt like her own — she partied as a teenager and in her early twenties, though she never allowed it to affect her professional pursuits. she also married for the first time at twenty-five to a producer ten years her senior, but much like the union between her own parents, this marriage would disappear in the blink of an eye. she got married again four years later to a baseball player, divorced one year later, and married again by thirty-three to an entertainment lawyer… that she had met via her last split. that marriage fell through swiftly, and then there was the drunken vegas elopement between julia and her longtime friend that was quickly annulled — if you ask julia herself, that one doesn’t count. 

             her most recent husband, daniel riley, also proved to have the most maddening, indelible effect on her. they had met when she was cast in his project kenmare, though julia’s mother had been quite taken with daniel after a writers on writers panel and had slyly been plotting to get them together. though julia had sworn off marriage, daniel was different — a funny, handsome, salt-of-the-earth irishman who seemed untouched by glitz and glamor of the industry. their connection blossomed during filming, and by the time they had wrapped in late 2016, it was an open secret on set that the two had fallen for each other. awards season rolled out in early 2017, earning nominations and accolades for daniel and julia. the smitten redhead slipped and offered a long, loving thank you to daniel in her awards speech, sending the rumor mill abuzz until photos of their wedding surfaced to the press and soon, confirmation came by way of publicly referring to each other as husband and wife in assorted interviews. it was, in fact, the most grounded, sincere, loving connection that julia had ever experienced - which, of course, perpetually left her on edge. why wasn’t he like the others? when was the other shoe going to drop? 

           five years of marriage, her longest yet, and julia was finally allowing herself to sink into the belief that this could very well be the one. she was even considering formally changing her name to julia riley, much to her publicist’s chagrin, until there was a sudden, disappointing shift. daniel got wrapped up in his work, julia got pulled into filming, and suddenly, their date nights went ignored, comfortable nights together became scarce, and julia, so terrified of allowing her heart to be broken, began to distance herself. she had been in this position before, sure, but not with somebody she had actually felt wholly and deeply in love with. the notion that daniel could leave her like the others stirred a chilling fear in the actress. he felt so far away, and if she allowed herself to acknowledge just how badly it would pain her to lose him, she’d crumble immediately. so after months of unease and discontent, she went abroad to film. a few weeks after that, she served divorce papers. maybe she hoped he’d come and change her mind. maybe she just wanted a response. 

           throughout those years, though, she’s earned several oscar nominations and won two, along with a tony award and a BAFTA and a few golden globes she’s tucked away in a closet. her career has been illustrious, though she’s felt stuck over the last few years. unfortunately for her agent, julia refuses to fall victim to hollywood’s refusal to allow older actresses their time to shine and has recently taken an interest in producing films that don’t pigeon-hole any actress over thirty-five. 

        she’s currently back in hollywood after almost a year in rome, where she had disappeared to recoup and re-evaluate her goals after filming. she’s also trying to get her divorce finalized, while balancing the impulsive mistake of a recent engagement that’s felt ill-fated from the start, while focusing more on developing her own production company as julia continues to cement herself as an indelible hollywood icon.

personality.

           julia inherited her grandmother’s sultry charm and her mother’s wry sense of humor — she’s almost brutally self aware of her position in the world, but she’s always surrounded herself with friends and loved ones to keep her grounded. despite being on her fifth marriage, she’s an unabashed romantic, though her affections can be fleeting. she’s a jovial friend, always happy to host dinner parties and plan surprises for her loved ones. she doesn’t necessarily allow too many people to get very close, but the ones who do manage to sink themselves into her heart are cherished early.

tl;dr -

julia sayre-sullivan is the product of an acting dynasty that stretches back into the silent era of hollywood. she’s an oscar-winning actress on her fifth marriage that is working feverishly to overcome the industry’s tendency to discard any actress over thirty-five. charming, gregarious, and passionate, she’s your favorite glamorous auntie who showers you with love, presents, and first class tickets. wry, alluring, mischevious, and engaging. big katharine hepburn energy.

noted filmography

rose in titanic (1997), penny lane in almost famous (2001), andie in how to lose a guy in 10 days (2003), katharine hepburn in the aviator (2004), clementine in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind (2004), carol in carol (2014), sally bowles in cabaret on london’s west end, eve in kenmare (2017),