#i have written so many conversations that take place either in a car or on a couch precisely for this reason

[formula-nyoom]

Rookie Reflections | LS2

Platonic! Logan Sargent x Rookie!Reader

Summary: Being the only new addition to the grid, it may seem intimidating to try and introduce yourself to the other drivers. Logan remembers exactly what it's like to be the new rookie and doesn't want a repeat of what happened to him to happen to anyone else.

A/N: Pronouns weren’t specified so I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible. I still haven’t decided if I want to write in 2nd or 3rd person, it really depends on the fic/request. Previous reader inserts I have written have been done in 2nd person so I defaulted to that with this fic, but do let me know which one you prefer. Logan, my favorite driver, I’m glad my first request is for him. Also I have no hate towards Daniel, it just made a lot more sense to me for the reader to take his seat. 

Silly season didn’t come with a lot of shake ups like people expected it to. The only team to switch up their driver line up for the upcoming season was RB, with Daniel being replaced by the newest Formula 2 champion after not delivering the results Red Bull had wanted from him.

You had met Yuki for the first time during the car launch before pre-season testing, but with all the cameras, interviews, and excitement surrounding the new car launch, you were unable to find the time to properly get to know each other. You had hoped to get a chance to maybe sit down with Yuki and get to know your new teammate, but now in Bahrain with all the drivers in one place it seemed that all of them had already split off into their pre-established friend groups that had been built up over years of racing alongside each other, Yuki included. 

That’s the thing with being the only new driver for the season: All the other drivers already knew each other well enough that you felt too intimidated to approach any of them. Going to Formula 2 where you knew almost all the drivers to Formula 1 where you knew no one, it was like being the new kid at school. And that seemed even more evident during the pre-season photoshoot. 

Yuki still had some last bits of data to go over with his engineer so you arrived at the photoshoot without your teammate. While you did arrive early, most of the drivers were already there, either talking with each other or members of their team. A few gave you curious glances, maybe an awkward smile or two, but none felt the need to approach. Not wanting to risk bothering anyone, you decided to find a spot secluded from the various groups of people while you waited for either Yuki to show up or for the photoshoot to start. Maybe when the photographer started to position people for the photos, you could possibly strike up a conversation with whoever was placed near you. But for now, you felt content standing off to the side where no one would really approach you. Or so you thought.

Logan had forgotten something in the Williams garage, making him arrive at the photoshoot after Alex. And while he could have walked over to his teammate, who was currently chatting with George, he noticed you standing off to the side. You were away from everyone to where you wouldn’t get in the way as you scrolled through your phone.

Logan knows that move. He did it many times during his rookie season because of how out of place he felt. But he also wasn’t the only rookie during his season, unlike you who was the only new person to the grid. He can probably guess how nervous or out of place you may seem. Logan knows that feeling. He hates that feeling and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. 

Maybe that’s why he had decided to approach you. Or maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to since Alex was busy talking to George, and Oscar was busy talking to Lando. Either way, he thought it was a good idea to introduce himself.

 “Hey,” Logan said, getting your attention. “You’re the new RB driver, right?”

Logan already knew the answer to that question, but he thought that was a better question to ask than pointing out the fact that you’re the new rookie. 

 “Yea, I am.” You said. Guess you were wrong about people not approaching you as you looked at the man standing before you.  

“I’m Logan.” He said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You already knew his name before he introduced himself. Hell, you knew all drivers names on the grid but that was another intimidating reason why you hadn’t tried to approach anyone. 

 “I’m (Y/N).” You said, shaking Logan’s hand. 

“So, are you excited for the upcoming season?” Logan asked. 

 “Yea. The car seems to be a good contender with the testing we’ve done so far. Hopefully I’ll be able to score some points by the end of the season.”

 “What makes you think you won’t get points at the beginning?” Logan asked.

“Well I am the rookie this season. I’m still getting used to the car, it’s a huge difference from the F2 car I was driving last year. Plus everyone else has been racing longer than I have. It's gonna take me a while to catch up.” You explained.

 “Oh come on, don’t doubt yourself this early. Trust me, it doesn’t help.” Logan said. You shrugged.

“I guess you’re right. I mean, I’m gonna try my best no matter what, but the highest I can see myself getting for the first race is P15.” You told him.

 “That’s a good start. “ Logan said. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The two of you ended up talking about what you both did over the winter break and your expectations for the season until the photographer called for the photoshoot to start. You hadn’t even realized Yuki had arrived until the photographer positioned you two next to each other.

 “I saw you and Logan talking earlier. I hope it was a good conversation.” He whispered as you waited for the photographer to take a picture.

“He was just introducing himself. We talked about our expectations for the season.” You told him. Yuki smiled a bit.

 “Logan’s always been nice. I’m glad you’re getting to know some of the other drivers.”

~~~

“Come on Yuki, pick up!” You mumbled as the call went to voicemail again. After pre-season testing had wrapped up, you had finally managed to get to know Yuki by going out to get dinner together with the rest of the team. He had promised that the two of you would walk together through the paddock on the first day of the season, but after arriving at the entrance you saw no sign of your teammate. And the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone didn’t help either. But looking around towards all the cars pulling in towards the entrance, you did however see Logan arriving.

 “Logan!” You quickly walked over to him as he got closer to the entrance.

“Hey. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” He asked, noticing the lack of anyone from RB with you.

 “Well me and Yuki were supposed to walk in together, but I can’t find him anywhere and he’s not answering my calls.” You said. You looked past the turnstiles at the entrance to the paddock. “I don’t really want to walk in by myself.”

 “Do you want me to walk in with you?” Logan asked. You looked back at him.

“If it’s not too much to ask.” You said. Logan just shook his head and smiled.

 “It’s no bother.” He said. He gently ushered you towards the entrance and the two of you walked through. It was an understatement to say that you were nervous to greet the cheering fans that stood by the barriers with things to sign. But knowing that Logan was right next you signing things as well and taking pictures with fans made you less nervous. You even got to take some pictures with him and fans as well. 

 “If I wore all these friendship bracelets in the car, I think I would add an extra pound.” You joked as the two of you walked past the various team garages.

“Soon you’re gonna end up having a full storage closet at your house just full of stuff that fans have given you.” Logan said. You smiled at that idea.

 “Hopefully I won’t develop carpal tunnel from all the stuff I’m gonna have to sign over the year.” Good thing being a Formula 1 driver consists more of driving cars than signing things.” 

 “You say that now, but just wait until the RB merchandise team sits you down in a room filled with driver cards you have to sign. Your wrist is going to be so sore afterwards.” Logan said. You let out a chuckle. 

 “(Y/N)!” You turned to see Yuki, coming from the RB hospitality, running over to the two of you. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry. They put me in the press conference at the last minute. I had to come early.” Yuki explained.

 “It’s ok Yuki. Logan walked in with me.” You said. You turned back to Logan. “Thank you, by the way. I should probably go see my team.”

“Like I said, it was no bother. I’d be happy to walk the paddock with you anytime.” He said. “I’ll see you two on the track.”

He waved goodbye and then headed to the William’s garage as you headed with Yuki back to the RB hospitality to get ready for the upcoming practice sessions. 

~~~

“Ok (Y/N). We’ve been knocked out of Q1. You are P17.” Your race engineer said through the radio as the qualifying session ended and you slowed your car down for a cool down lap. 

 “Not the result I had hoped for, but it’s something I can improve upon. Did Yuki make it to Q2?” You asked, making your way into the pit lane.

 “Yes, Yuki did make it into Q2.” Your engineer said. 

“That’s good. Hope he can make it into Q3.” You pulled into your designated pitlane and flipped up your visor to let some air into your helmet as the pit crew pulled your car into the garage. 

After changing out of your race suit and fireproofs, you put on a pair of headphones and joined the crew in watching Q2. You were happy to see that Logan made it into Q2 as well, and was secretly hoping he would make it into Q3 along with Yuki. Both of them did good laps during Q2 but Yuki unfortunately was only able to place P11. Logan barely managed to get by into Q3, but couldn’t place any higher and ended up in front of your teammate, placing P10 for tomorrow’s race. After congratulating Yuki on his placement, you left the RB garage to go look for Logan to do the same thing. You didn’t have to look far, as the American driver was exiting the William’s garage as you approached.

“Hey, nice driving today!” You said, giving Logan’s shoulder a congratulatory pat. 

 “Thanks. I’m shocked I was able to make it into Q3. I thought I was going to get knocked out in Q2, I didn’t expect Lance to get his lap time deleted.” Logan said. “Where’d you place?”

 “P17. I wasn’t able to gain enough speed on my last lap to get myself to a higher placement.” You said. “But that’s ok. I just need to overtake the 7 cars in front of me to get to P10 and get into the points. How hard can that be?”

You laughed, your last sentence meaning to be a joke. Logan let out a small chuckle, but he was taking what you said seriously.

 “I think you can do it. But only do it after I’ve overtaken a couple cars myself. I’d also like to get some points during the race.” He said.

 “Deal!” 

~~~

It was officially race day and your nerves seemed to be bouncing as fast as the cars that would be on track soon. You had felt confident throughout the week, being on the track and going over data with the team. But with the race starting in a couple hours, the fact that you were about to debut in your first Formula One race was starting to become very real. 

 “You squeeze that water bottle any tighter, it’s gonna explode.” You were brought out of your spiraling thoughts by Logan as he approached you from the side. Looking down, you did see that the water bottle you were holding was almost ready to burst from the steel grip you had on it.

 “Sorry, I’m just thinking about the race today.” You said, loosening your grip on the bottle.

 In a similar scenario to pre-season testing, the two of you were waiting to start the drivers parade.

 “It’s ok to be nervous about your first race. Every driver is.” He said.

“What if I crash the car?” You asked. Logan shook his head.

 “You won’t.”

“What if I can’t overtake any cars and finish last?”

 “You won’t finish last.”

“What if-”

 “Hey.” Logan placed his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him. “You’re going to be fine. You drove well during testing and practice. You can overtake the cars in front of you. And even if you finish last, so what? It’s your first race. You’re going to make mistakes and that’s ok.” Logan said. His hands on your shoulder and the speech he just gave you seemed to steel your nervous a bit as you took in what he said. 

 “Just try to have fun. Can you promise me that?” Logan asked. He held up his pinkie and you almost laughed at the childlike implications. But the serious look on Logan’s face stopped you.  You linked your pinkie with his and nodded.

 “I promise.”

The two of you ended up staying next to each other during the drivers parade, waving to fans as the truck drove by. Interviews were also happening during the parade, and with you being the new rookie, you had to be interviewed.

“So (Y/N), you're about to make your Formula 1 debut in your first Formula 1 race. How are you feeling?” The interviewer asked.

 “I’m both very nervous and very excited. I’m starting at the back of the grid, but I’m gonna try to do my best.” You said.

“I know, with being the newest addition to the grid, you may feel like you stand out. Besides your teammate Yuki, have there been any other drivers that you’ve gotten to know during pre-season testing or this weekend?”.

 “Logan actually introduced himself to me during pre-season testing and we’ve gotten to know each other a bit.” You told the interviewer. “It feels a bit intimidating being surrounded by these great drivers that I’ve always hoped to have a chance to drive alongside, so I’m really grateful to Logan for being someone on the grid that I can talk to and get to know, besides Yuki of course.”

 “Have you guys talked about anything in particular? Any expectations for your first race?”

“Logan actually gave me a really good pep talk before the drivers parade. It really helped calm my nerves down a bit. I’m gonna take Logan’s advice and try to have fun.” You said with a smile. The interviewer thanked you for your time and moved on to interview a different driver as you made your way back over to Logan. After waving to a bunch of fans, the parade concluded and you and the rest of the drivers got off the truck.

“What are you going to do during this race?” Logan asked you before the two of you departed to get ready for the race.

 “Have fun!” You said. 

“That’s right.” He gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and left for the William’s garage while you headed back to RB, your nerves seemingly having lessened. 

Logan’s pep talk seemed to be exactly what you needed. You ended up finishing the race in P11, just out of the points but only two spots behind Yuki. 

 “(Y/N) that was a fantastic first race! Well done!” Your engineer's voice came through the radio as you waved while driving around the track.

 “Oh my god! Thank you so much! That was so much fun! I couldn’t have done it without you or the team!” You said enthusiastically as you pulled into parc ferme. You sat in the car for a couple seconds, taking in the feeling of making it through your first Formula One race. Then, you took the wheel out and stepped out of the car.

Some of the pit crew workers gave you pats on the back or the shoulder, congratulating you on making it through your first race. As your eyes scanned the pit lane, looking for your team, they landed on the familiar America-decorated helmet of Logan.

 “Logan!” You called as you jogged over to him. His eyes lit up at your approach and met you halfway.

 “Nice one champ! P11 on debut!” He said, raising his hand for a high five before bringing you in for a brief congratulatory hug. 

 “I was so close to getting into points but I couldn’t catch up. You drove amazingly though! Congrats on P5!” You told him.

 “Hey, don’t put yourself down for being “just” out of the points. Next race, you and I are going to be in the top 10.” He said. “Did you have fun?”

 “Yea!” You exclaimed. Both your smiles seemed to grow.

“I told you! Come on, let’s go get weighed and you can tell me everything about the race.” Logan slung his arm over your shoulder as he led you over to the weigh stations. 

The two of you spent the rest of the night recounting each of your guys' events of the race, every overtake and every mistake either of you made. Eventually exhaustion started to hit both of you and the two of you decided to head back to your hotel rooms.

“Thank you.” You said to Logan as you stood infront of your room after Logan offered to walk you back.

 “For what?” He asked. 

“For introducing yourself to me during pre-season testing. I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get to know anyone on the grid this season. All the other drivers seem to know each other really well or are just really intimidating.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers for a bit before looking back up at him “But I’m really glad to say that you're the first friend I’ve made on the grid.”

Logan’s smile seemed to lower and you grew concerned. But he noticed this and quickly change his expression to reassurance.

 “I know how hard it is to make friends in this sport and I also know how isolating it can be. I didn’t want what happened in my rookie season to happen to you.” He told you. “I’m glad that you’re my friend too.”

You smiled, touched by what he said and happy that he considered you a friend as well. You held up your pinkie towards him.

 “Promise that we’ll both be in the points next race?”

He linked your pinkie with his and matched your smile.

 “I promise.”

[gothcsz]

I can't stop thinking about reader being an overworked secretary, always so uptight, on the edge and Javi teases and mocks her about it all the time, is slightly mean, making the days insufferable for her until one day she breaks for him and Javi pounds all that stress out of her until she cries ♡

your beautiful mind, anon. i hope you enjoy this 🖤

tags: unprotected p in v sex, semi public sex (parking garage), dirty talk, javier has a big dick, hate fuck kind of, era typical sexism/misogyny, dubcon, no use of y/n, reader doesn't like javi at all but that doesn't stop her from fucking him, crying during sex, javi's cuffs make an appearance, unbeta'd, if i missed anything let me know thx. ~ 2k w/c

You’ve had it. Swear to god, if you have to sit in this uncomfortable chair, type up some useless report, or fetch another goddamn cup of coffee— you might just explode. 

Get an office job, they said. Secretarial work is easy and less fast paced than what you’re used to. So how come you haven’t seen a day of peace since you started working here?

Every agent in the office sees you as nothing more than the eye candy that gets the signatures they need for their dick measuring contest-esque operations. They don’t take you seriously, they flirt as if HR doesn’t exist, and worst of all— they patronize you like your head is full of air. Like there’s nothing between your ears.

Snickering behind your back, hushed whispers and tapered conversations when you enter the room, purposefully dropping things by your desk just to watch you bend over to pick them up.

The only one that treats you somewhat like a normal human being is Steve Murphy, and that’s only because he’s married. But even then, he barely keeps his colleagues from fucking with you.

Especially his partner— Javier Peña, whose reputation preceded him. You were getting warnings about the agent before you even touched down in Colombia. His affinity to fuck anything in a skirt. The unorthodox practices he indulged to gather intel. A playboy. A womanizer. How the fuck he manages to not get fired is beyond you, really. 

Especially with all the sexual harassment workshops that the office has to endure. Now you’re wondering if there’s so many of them because the asshole with the mustache can’t keep his hands to himself.

He’s no better than the rest of them, either. The flirting to get his paperwork further up the chain, asking you to go out for drinks after work, in which you decline because you’d rather be caught dead than tipsy enough to take a ride on the Peña express, chastising how ‘uptight’ you are and offering to help you relieve some of that stress.

My stress stems from assholes like you— the ones that treat women like sexual objects rather than people.

No matter how handsome or suave he is; the man is dick and apparently you rejecting his advances multiple times does nothing but fuel him to stay persistent.

Which blows your mind. You’ve seen the informants that stop by to ask for him, the women that approach him at office parties— he’s a total babe magnet. Why does he waste his efforts on you— the secretary?

You let out a frustrated groan, not giving a fuck if you get written up for leaving early today. It’s Friday, the office is dead, and if you’re approached one more time by any of these arrogant, good for nothing agents; you will get mouthy and possibly even land a bitch slap.

The gag is, you’re usually good under pressure… something about being surrounded by men like them all day just frayed your nerves like no other.

Gathering your things, you damn near book it down the hall, then elevator, until you’re in the parking garage and fumbling for your keys.

You’re so honed in on getting the fuck out of there that you don’t notice that not one— but two of your tires are as flat as pancakes and that, unfortunatley, is what tips you over the edge.

“God fucking damn it. Fuck this car, fuck this place, fuck everyone in this stupid,” you kick the tire, “fucking,” another kick, “building.” The last kick is misplaced and your toe digs uncomfortably into the pointed tip of your heel which has you cursing the heavens even more and bringing exasperated tears to your eyes.

Will you ever catch a fucking break?

And it’s like the universe is having a good ‘ol laugh, probably because you’ve just cussed it out, because a familiar jeep rolls by— being driven by the aviator wearing, habitually unbuttoned shirt adorning, smug jerk that is the root of your frustrations.

“Having car problems, nena?” He speaks to you from the rolled down window, perpetual smirk on his pouty lips as he eyes your flat tires then your rigid figure.

“Fuck off, Javier.” You turn from him, not wanting for the tears in your eyes to be noticed; but again, this motherfucker is persistent if anything, and he parks in the empty spot next to yours, cutting the engine and hopping out to join you.

“There’s that dazzling attitude. Things like this wouldn’t happen if you just smiled every now and again.”

Your hands curl into fists, sharply turning to face him, your face hot.

“Why the fuck do you always have to do that? Huh? You and everyone else— treating me like I’m beneath all of you—”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re beneath—”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You exclaim, chest heaving, “I can’t even fucking talk without getting cut off. Nothing I say or do matters to any of you pricks. Not unless I’m bent over, picking your shit off the floor or running around like a headless chicken fulfilling your coffee orders. The weaponized incompetence, t-the unwanted advances; I’m more than that— more than anything you all think I am. I hate this fucking job, I hate all you government assholes and I’m half tempted to quit but I can’t because I’m stuck here!”

You hadn’t noticed how close you two had gotten during your outburst, standing toe to toe with him. His brows pull into a frown, lips turned downward beneath his stache as he turns over your words.

“You really need to get laid.”

You snap, you do. Your fist coming up to sock him square in the jaw, which surprises him but you don’t stop. Landing blows wherever you can, kicking him repeatedly.

Javier lets you get a few hits in before he exerts his strength and grabs your wrists, dragging you over to his jeep and pressing your chest flat against the cool surface, the force of it leaving you breathless.

“Let go of me!” You squirm in his grasp but all he does is tighten his grip on you.

You don’t know if it’s because emotions are high and there is some truth to his words, but you feel the static of arousal at the base of your spine, your thighs tensing at the position in which he has you in.

“You know how to land a punch. Should get you out into the field. Maybe some excursion would calm you the fuck down.”

With both your wrists in one of his large palms, he uses the other to grab his cuffs and you don’t realize it until you’re restrained and your eyes widen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing—”

“I’m giving you what you need, sweetheart.” His statement is laden with suggestion, tinged with lust. You look around the empty parking lot and how convenient that you’re both parked way in the corner, far from the elevator or any wandering eyes.

This is a bad idea. What you’ve been actively avoiding since you started. But fuck, are you pissed off and tired and you won’t lie— there is some appeal to getting your brain screwed out of your head after being screwed day after day in the office. 

Your resolve drops and you turn off your logical thinking, giving yourself over to Javier completely. 

“Then give it to me before I change my mind.”

Those words spur him into action, gun calloused hands bunching your skirt up around your waist, ripping your stockings and you gasp, heart beating wildly in your chest. His fingers work themselves into your panties, dragging along the wet seam of your cunt and your forehead falls against the exterior of his car, eyes fluttering close at how good it feels.

“So wet. Knew this little pussy needed to be taken care of. Don’t worry, reina, I’m going to make you feel so good,” he rubs your clit in slow, tight circles and you bite your lip. “Make you feel appreciated.”

Spreading your wetness, he slips two of his thick fingers into your tight cunt and you moan out his name, feeling so full. Much better than when you do it on your own.

He fucks you with his fingers, pressing himself fully against you and you can feel his hard bulge digging into the small of your back and that only heightens your arousal. His surprisingly soft lips are kissing along the back of your neck before he’s licking at your ear lobe, whispering how good you feel clenching around his fingers.

You come undone in record time, whimpers spilling past your lips and you’re not usually one to enjoy the fingering aspect of foreplay but goddamn— Javier is good. You can at least confirm that half the rumors about him are true.

It all happens so fast after that, him kicking your legs to spread wider, tugging your panties down to your thighs before he’s undoing his belt, releasing his hard cock from those tight jeans, spitting into his hand and using the mix of your release and his saliva to lube him up as he strokes himself one, two times before he’s lining himself up at your weeping entrance.

Your forehead remains pressed to the car, pussy fluttering in anticipation of being filled by a man you can’t stand.

He feeds you his cock in one swift motion, causing you to jerk forward and yelp loudly, the stretch of him inside your tight cunt burns as much as your hatred for him.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes as he begins to set a deliciously brutal pace. His hips snap against the back of your thighs, the flesh of your ass rippling with each thrust.

“Puta madre, nena, this pussy is so fucking tight.” He grits through clenched teeth, fingers digging into your waist, fucking you so good that you’ve lost your ability to speak.

All that flows from you are needy moans and broken sobs. The obscene sound of your pussy squelching, skin meeting skin, echoes through the parking garage and you forget how exposed to the public you are but you really can’t bring yourself to care at the moment; not with how good this man is giving it to you.

Your needy pussy takes and takes, walls pulsating around his thick cock— each time she spits him out, the creamy evidence of your arousal smears all over his shaft and this has him smirking, large palm coming down to spank you.

“Fuckin’ creaming all over me, baby. Knew you wanted this. Needed it so bad. This dick is gonna calm you down, won’t have you acting like such an uptight bitch anymore.” 

You gasp, both at his words and the sting from the spank, eyes snapping open as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder to the best of your ability, shooting him the best disdainful glare you can muster despite being rendered damn near immobile by his big dick.

“F-Fuck off,” though the bite in your words is fucking toothless as your legs tremble and your orgasm begins to sneak up on you, starting at your neglected clit which is pulsating— begging to be played with.

As if reading your fucking mind, he slips one hand around you, pinching the raw flesh between his thumb and pointer fingers, rolling it around, causing your hips to inadvertently snap back against him.

“Oh, you like that. Can feel how good she’s grippin’ me when I play with your pretty little clit. You gonna come all over me, muñeca?”

His lips are at your ear, spitting more filth out and those tears from before have messed your eyeliner and mascara up, dark streaks painting your cheeks. Your head falls back against his shoulder, the entire world around you looking like a hazy filter has been applied over it as you succumb to the orgasm being given to you by none other than Javier Peña.

“J-Javi I’m gonna…” he continues to toy with your clit, cock pistoning into you even harder as his other hand leaves your hips and moves up to wrap itself around your throat.

“That’s right baby, let loose for me, sweetheart.”

He tightens his grip around your neck at the same time that he delivers a harsh slap to your pussy which has you screaming his name, the walls of your cunt squeezing his cock as your cum coats the velvety skin of him. He grunts in your ear, fucking you through your climax before he pulls out and tugs at his dick, spurts of his milky spend landing across the soft skin of your ass.

You’re both left a panting, heaving mess. Sweat mixes with your tears, your poor pussy swollen and sensitive, feeling his warm cum dripping down from your round cheeks to the back of your thighs. 

“Uncuff me.” You demand, not wanting to drown in the euphoria of how he’s just made you feel, opting for that post nut clarity that grounds you back to the shitty situation that led to these coital activities. 

He scoffs, “Just got fucked stupid and you’re back to being like this.” He tucks himself back into his pants, reaching for the keys to the cuffs and releasing you from them.

You rub at your wrists, taking your panties off and using them to clean your mixed release off you as best as you can. “It’s almost like good dick wasn’t the key to fixing all my problems. Who would have thought?” You quip sarcastically, using the back of your hand to wipe away the tears and ruined makeup, knowing you look like a goddamn mess right now.

You take your ruined stockings off and fix your skirt, really not wanting to do the walk of shame by going back to the office to call someone to help you out with your tire problem, but you must.

“How are you getting home?” He asks, running his fingers through his hair, standing almost awkwardly before you and you narrow your eyes.

“None of your business.” You state, pushing past him to grab your purse and keys, talking yourself up to march back to your desk and call for a mechanic.

“Let me help,” he offers and you chuckle dryly. 

“You’ve done more than enough. No thanks.” You begin to walk past him and towards the elevator but he stops you by grabbing you by your forearm.

“I’m serious. It’s the least I can do.” His eyes soften, and it’s in this moment that you realize how warm they are. A beautiful shade of brown, the shape of a baby cow’s with dainty lashes that compliment them perfectly.

Nu-uh, snap out of it. This is how you get hooked.

“No, the least you can do is leave me the fuck alone, Javier. You got what you wanted.” You snatch your arm back, glaring at him, before strutting off back into the building. 

[wh0r3-for-klaus]

hi can you make headcanons about dating klaus mikaelson

sorry it took me so long to get this written, I've been dealing with a lot this year and I haven't had time to write much unfortunately. I hope you enjoy. This is just my personal thoughts about what it'd be like to date our friendly neighborhood hybrid.

Klaus is a very complex and closed off man, it’s a mix of the centuries he’s spent running from Mikeal and his deep rooted fear that those he does trust will betray him. However, once he trusts you enough to start letting you in and allows himself to let his guard down around you, that’s when you’ll be able to truly see just how many layers to this man there is.

When Klaus first arrives in Mystic Falls, he’s in Alaric’s body and focused on trying to break his curse but that doesn’t stop him from taking notice of you. He can’t help but admire how attractive you are and he likes to watch you interact with your friends and family because it helps him learn about your personality and such. 

If you’re in a relationship, he won’t be able to ignore the jealousy he feels whenever your significant others name is mentioned or he sees you with them, its not even because he wants to be in their place at first, its just because he wants to just have you. 

He wont be shy in making his affections known, even in Alarics body. He’ll always be leaving you gifts in your locker, on your porch, in your car, wherever he can get to there will be a present left for you to find.

 The gifts will always be signed with a simple “K.M” until hes in his own body, then he’ll sign it as “Klaus”. He wants you to know that it’s from him. 

He wants to see your reaction to every gift he leaves you if possible, and if he can’t see your reaction to a certain gift then he’ll either eventually ask you directly what you thought of it or he’ll use compulsion to find out if you mentioned it to your friends. If he can’t use compulsion then he’ll listen to your conversations with your friends. 

Klaus as a boyfriend:

Klaus would paint you, a lot. He may show you a few of them but some he’ll keep hidden, potentially because he’s worried about how you’ll react to them but mostly because he just wants them to remain a secret. 

He would buy you whatever you wanted, even if you protested, he wants to spoil you and he has enough money to anything you want without making a dent in his bank account. 

Klaus might even just end up giving you a credit card in his name so you can buy whatever you want whenever you want, if you refuse to accept it then he’ll slip it in your wallet when you’re not looking. 

He’s been alive for over a thousand years, man has a lot of money and doesn’t care how it’s spent as long as you’re taken care of and happy. 

Klaus will cook for you. He knows how to cook and he will spend all day preparing a nice meal for you. 

He’ll light candles and get out a special bottle of bourbon and a bottle of wine or champagne, he’ll even kick his siblings out for the night just so the night is perfect without interruptions. 

Man loves to have at least one hand on you at all times, whether it be holding your hand or resting his hand on your lower back. 

Klaus loves when you fall asleep on him, especially when you’re resting your head on his chest and he can have his arms around you. He likes knowing that you’re safe. 

Klaus enjoys laying his head on your lap or chest on occasion and letting you play with his hair, but it’s only when it’s just the two of you and he’s able to trust you enough to be vulnerable or softer with you. 

Baby boy has severe abandonment issues, he’ll randomly get mad at you for trying to leave him simply because you didn’t answer his calls and texts cause you busy. He hides his insecurity behind his anger because he doesn’t want to seem weak but inside he’s breaking down at the thought of losing you. 

Klaus will be in a crappy mood for whatever reason and will snap at you, not intentionally, he just can’t control his emotions and how he reacts to situations. 

He’ll apologize either immediately after snapping/yelling at you and seeing how it hurt/upset you or later once he’s calmed down and had time to reflect on his actions and how they affected you. 

He’ll get you a gift or numerous gifts to apologize before he’ll ever even attempt to apologize verbally, but he will if you continue to be upset with him, then he’ll beg for your forgiveness if he truly loves you. 

Speaking of love, he will tell you he loves you almost all the time after he says it for the first time. You won’t go a full day without hearing him say he loves you at least six times. 

“Darling, I love everything about you.” or “I love you, sweetheart.” or even “You’re absolutely stunning darling, I love every little “flaw” of yours because they are a part of you and I love you.” 

He wont let you talk bad about yourself, he’ll make you stand in front of a mirror while he stands behind you and points out every little thing he loves about you as he makes you repeat what he says about each thing. 

NSFW below the cut

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Klaus has stamina, he’s a hybrid so he could go round after round without getting tired.

He definitely knows how to pleasure you, he’s had thousands of years to learn new tricks and ways to make you climax, he’ll also take the time to learn what you like and what makes you feel good and what doesn’t. 

BREEDING KINK.

Will choke you and spank you and even be rough with you but he’ll be holding back from being to rough so he doesn’t hurt you, at least while you’re human. 

He will want to have you on every surface in his house in every position, he’ll even fuck you outside under the stars just because it’s something he wants to do with you at least once. 

He’s into trying just about anything except for anything involving piss or feces, that’s a hard no for him. 

He’ll drink from you while he cums with you, bloodsharing is very intimate so he likes doing it with you as you both cum. 

He doesn’t care if you’re shaved or not, if you’re comfortable then he’s okay with it. 

He’ll shave if you prefer for him to but he’ll also just keep himself trimmed down there anyways cause he likes to be well groomed.

[jackassbrainrot]

drive [dunn x reader]

desc: dunn and his highschool crush are oblivious idiots in love and finally get together

a/n: written for @stevensa565, hope you like it!! I loooove writing for Dunn so the next one is probably also going to be a Dunn fic (probs smut tho)!

warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff

word count: 554

Sitting in front of a cafe, you slowly sip at your morning coffee. An engine rev and a familiar voice yells out your name. You look up to see smiling eyes gazing playfully at you under golden strands.

"Wanna go for a ride?"

Even though you hadn't seen him in ages, you quickly fall back into your old routine: him maneuvering himself into the passenger seat, letting you jump into his former spot and drive wherever you feel like.

"How have you been, hotshot?" You tease, resting your hand on the gearshift comfortably. His laugh makes your heart skip a beat. Your conversation flows so naturally it's almost surreal, and you feel alive for the first time in a while.

You feel like not a day has passed since you last saw him, driving around West Chester like you are now, just a bit younger. You'd missed him, more than you'd care to admit.

"You free tonight?" He asks and you can hear the hope in his voice, making it impossible for you not to say yes. He beams before asking you to go back to his place. The drive to his house comes to you like second nature, it's a path you've taken so many times you've lost count.

You park the car in the driveway, he gets out first and opens the door for you with an overdramatic bow. You roll your eyes, chuckling at his antics as he unlocks the front door, letting you into the place you've spent countless sleepless nights in.

You fall onto the couch, your back against the worn armrest, legs sprawled. He moves your legs so he can sit down, putting them back down over his lap as he lights the cigarette hanging from his mouth. His hand falls onto your thigh as he inhales.

"I've missed you, you know?" He asks, smoke spilling from his lips, voice low and dripping with fondness. "I think about you all the time when I'm out filming in LA and-" He stops for a second, taking another drag before continuing. "Christ, I hate this sappy shit."

You chuckle at his comment, sitting up so your body is closer to his, "What, you tryna ask me out, Dunn?" You tease, poking his cheek playfully. It's something you've wanted since you first met him.

"Yeah, I guess that's what I'm doing" He says softly, not being able to meet your gaze. You freeze, half expecting Bam to jump out with a camera, laughing his ass off at your blushing face. "Ry, are you serious?" Your voice shakes slightly. You really hope he is.

He finally looks at you and you've never seen him look so unsure of himself. "I know we haven't talked much lately and we haven't been seein' each other much either but I've liked you for years and I don't want this to change thing between us if you're not-"

You cut off his rambling by grabbing his face and pulling him in, kissing his lips gently. His hands wrap around your waist as you start to pull away, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. You stay like that for a while, mouths moving slowly against each other before finally pulling back for air.

"So, I'll take that as a yes?"

You giggle, connecting your lips again.

[simdreams]

simdreams being metalinguistic about her own story thingy

(OR: me being inspired by @nocturnalazure's not-a-tutorial to ramble about my photoshooting process)

my simblr story photography style has to account for the fact that the world where my characters meet does not exist. most of the internal locations are different iterations of one random empty lot I built on the CAS world, or any SGI lots placed on an empty SGI world (my characters houses are on the basement of public locations), and I build only what I need - in a lot of different saves - because otherwise this thing would need five more years to start and my computer cannot cope with a full world with 50 fully decorated lots. So as a rule I don't have façades and open planes to offer as establishing shots *dies in cinematic*

Establishing shot: my pc rig is weak lol

So what do I do? I offer some detail on the place where the action's happening.

My only off-script written cues on the story are regarding the setting.

Sometimes I insert brief scenes and the only info you need from the setting is that there's a woman in the backseat of a car. and it's raining. Bam.

The only time so far I had an external shot I went full-on Projac and summoned a random lot which was not the same place decorated for the internal shots. Lol. I felt very smart.

Oh, yes, I also had to use this once. Deco buildings and deco sims. It's depressingly bland. My sims will never go back to Brugge.

(there's more under the cut)

Then, the action relies on some tricks too:

My story is not packed with action: it's mostly people exchanging words on the same place, or doing things on a small space. I have issues finding the perfect pose for the context (who doesn't?), so when I do, I take A LOT of shots in all available angles. I abuse the 'look at' feature, and sometimes the same pose makes the cut in different perspectives! (not in a sequence, so it doesn't get so obvious lol)

Eheh. There goes my illusion.

Waist and shoulder shots are good to show emotions and remind my readers of my characters faces, but they are not my favorites because of the ludicrous amount of times that a pose makes my sim face look disturbingly distorted. A smiling pose might end up looking crooked, or most commonly, my sim is looking at the wrong side and the 'look at' feature makes their eyes black.

Give it a zoom out and he'll look 100% possessed.

So, I resort to more tricks.

Headless simtography is my go-to framing - I have to remind myself to include full face shots. It's good to show body language, actions or proximity/distance between characters.

A special type of headless photography is hand photography. Because hands do things, you know.

Also, I shamelessly abuse feet shots. Either as a way to suggest movement, indicate contrast, affinity or character through the choice of footwear, and also suggest distance (or lack thereof) between characters HEH

So, in the end, one pose may give you FOUR shots: face, body, hands and feet. :P

Some takes on dialogue:

Framing your characters without showing their faces is not my favorite angle but useful to hide crooked expressions and/or bring some fresh angles. Especially if they are doing something besides sitting still, it can suggest a conversation being held in the right context.

Zooming out and showing the room where the action's happening (even when the action is just two people facing each other) is a nice breather in between too many closeups (which in my case is usually no bigger than a room, but still helps to set where the characters are)

Cropping a face at the mouth gives (at least for me) more emphasis at the lips and the idea that that person is saying something.

In general, my characters talk (or are engaged in talking) when they are looking at each other's direction. This is why "look at" is essential. See, none of these poses were made to work together, but they did (and this is why it can take SO LONG to shoot something, because you are looking for the perfect body language and then trying to make it match with the scene).

And I suppose the most common solution to this is indeed framing two people and giving the speaker a face shot while the listener is unfocused or with their back turned on the camera. Yes.

[thegoldheartlocketandkey-blog]

911 Spoilers Season 4: You’ve been warned. 😅 Buddie Rewatch

Episode 5: Buck Begins  

Flash back to 1996. Maddie is teaching Buck how to ride a bike. He falls over a few times and has a scary almost accident with a car. To avoid the car Buck swerves out of the way and falls to the ground.

Maddie screams, the car honks, and it prompts the parents to run outside as Maddie is trying to comfort Buck.  Buck calls out for his Mommy and she instead of taking over caring for Buck, is panicking over where they found the bike.

Buck and Maddie are still on the ground as Buck is crying and vocally saying “Ow”. Maddie explains she found the bike under a pile of Junk in the garage. They look over at the father and as he tries to explain, mom (Margaret) starts screaming no and running into the house.

Dad looks over at Maddie and starts to chastise her. Telling her she should have left it alone and instructing her to bring her brother back in the house.  Phillip (the dad) grabs the bike as Maddie and Buck walk inside.

From this moment forward, I will be referring to Buck’s parents by their first names. I had written mom and dad in my notes, mostly because I didn’t pay attention to their names while watching the episode. They really piss me off as characters, especially as we learn more and more about their parenting choices. So I rather not continuously write Mom and Dad.  

Maddie explains to Buck that Daniel was 8 years old when he died of leukemia. Daniel and Buck had a seven-year age gap, explaining why he wouldn’t have remembered Daniel.

Buck is confused as to why no one ever told him about Daniel. Maddie explains that shortly after his passing, their parent’s packed up all of Daniels things. They moved to a different city and made her promise to never mention Daniel to Buck.

Maddie further explaining that there where many moments that she wanted to tell him, but she did not know how.  She also explains that their weird reaction and hiding Daniel’s death was their way of grieving and how they never stopped grieving.

Buck piecing together very quickly that he was only born as a last resort to try to save Daniel.

Buck leaves Maddie’s apartment in the middle of the conversation. He needs to process this information; he looks sad and defeated as he leaves.

Margaret is yelling at Maddie, trying to understand why she would tell Buck. Phillip is behind her with his arms crossed. Maddie explains that she told him, because she didn’t want Buck thinking it was his fault they were fighting.

Margaret telling Maddie it wasn’t her place and Maddie remind her that she isn’t a kid anymore. Phillip quickly defending Margaret and telling Maddie to watch her tone, that it wasn’t her fault. Maddie clarifying that it isn’t her fault either.

Phillip explaining that they didn’t have a choice. They had to pack up Daniel’s stuff and pretend he didn’t exist because of the judgement they were receiving for having Buck, in an attempt to save Daniel.

Margaret yelling at Maddie that she isn’t a mother yet, she doesn’t understand her pain and what a child’s death will do to you.

Maddie pointing out that she disappeared into her grief, leaving her and buck to fend for themselves.

1996: Buck is at the top of the stairs with a bloody knee. Maddie is walking around gathering supplies as Phillip and Margaret are arguing over the bike.

Phillip states, “ I just wanted one thing to remember him by.” Margaret responds, “We live with the reminder every day. Staring us in the face.”

That’s a truly fucked up way of viewing your son, it’s implied she’s talking about Buck.

Buck had run away from the top of the stair case as Maddie walks up them. Madie tends to Buck’s wound. Buck believes they are mad at him. Maddie tries to clarify that they aren’t mad just upset. We get the first instant where Maddie justifies an outburst as an over reaction that they will feel bad about later. (Poor Maddie, this shouldn’t have been the life lesson you learned)

Phillip calls Buck down, offering a new bike and ice cream. Buck making the unhealthy connection that by getting hurt, his parents will pay attention to him.

Montage of young Buck being reckless and getting hurt. Maddie caring for the wounds, and Phillip bringing over treats or Margaret bringing him breakfast in bed.

Buck is telling the 118 what he just learned about his upbringing. Eddie states, “This explains so much about you.” Hen concerned about how Buck even survived his childhood. Eddie pointing out it is a miracle he even survived yesterday.

Buck was always aware that he would put himself in dangerous situations to get their attention. He is now trying to process the new information about how they never really wanted him, they needed him for spare parts, but he only had “defective” parts. Eddie quickly and concerningly cut’s in and tells Buck, that that isn’t his fault. Buck states that he believes his parents do blame him. Eddie is taken back by the comment and is noticeably concerned about Buck.

Bobby and Hen cut in, reassuring Buck that he matters and how he needs to bring up these concerns to his parents. Buck dismissing those comments. Chimney walks in late, he wants to talk to Buck privately, but Buck reveals that he told the team the 118 the entire story already, no need to be secretive about it anymore. Chim apologizes for keeping the secret from him, Buck dismissing the apology, understanding that he didn’t really have a choice.

2004; Maddie drives buck to an unknown location to talk to Buck. Buck reveals he is grounded for forging his parent’s signature to try out for football. Maddie reveals she brought Buck to their old house, one that he doesn’t remember because he was a baby. Maddie is about to reveal the big secret, but Maddie gets a phone call from Doug.  She answers and the call and the convo switches over.

Buck pointing out that it’s weird that Doug needs to know where she is all the time, and Maddie explains it as being sweet and that he cares for her. Maddie changing her crazy story to reveal Doug got accepted into medical school and that she is going with him.

Buck is cleaning the fire truck as Maddie appears behind him. She wants to make sure he is okay. Buck lashing out about feeling betrayed and alone. The alarm cuts the conversation short.

Hand sanitizer factory fire (gotta love the covid episodes); Eddie and Bobby join the 133 to search one side of the factory. Buck, Chim and Hen, are on the other team to search the other side.  Chim approaches Buck, but Buck cuts him off and tells him not now. Buck looks upset and over everything. Chim makes it appoint to say he can’t keep running from this. Buck responds of course he can it is the Buckley family way.

2004; Margaret and Phillip learned that Maddie is leaving with Doug to Boston. Buck tries to defend Maddie, but is completely dismissed. He rides off on a bike as Maddie and his parents argue.  He’s upset and crying.

The normal childhood bike turns into a motorcycle, with an older Buck riding, he’s visibly angry. Buck crashes into a car that was backing out of a driveway.

Side note, I know this scene is suppose to be serious, but the faces Buck makes paired with the obvious stunt man riding the bike, takes me out of the scene a bit.

Buck is one of the one to cut thru the doors and get access into the burning building. Buck locates multiple drums of flammable sanitizers and calls it over the radio. Buck and Chim scout possible paths to go find victims. Chimney’s path is not possible, Buck’s isn’t clear but doable.

Buck finds a door with victims inside, as they open up, and try to get people out, Bobby announces over the radio that he has also found people but the fire around them is getting worse, that they lost two guys. Buck volunteers himself to go find and help Bobby.

2012: Maddie is a nurse and Buck is injured in her ER, refusing to leave until he sees her. Buck admits to crashing his bike and needing Maddie’s help. Turns out he doesn’t need help because he was kicked out of college, for the second time.

Buck wants to stay with Maddie and Doug, to avoid staying at his parent’s place. Maddie being noticeably uncomfortable with the idea. Buck is assuming she’s uncomfortable because Doug hates him. This is when I noticed the cast on Maddie’s arm.

Buck is pleading with her because he doesn’t want to face his parent’s judgement. He admits that life with his parent’s has gotten worse since she’s left the house. Buck promises that he will be something, that he isn’t a loser.

Buck is walking through fire, redirecting his path as flames ingulf it. He climbs up a set of ladders as a full evacuation is called due to the loss of structural integrity. Buck calls out over the radio to say that one victim is still missing. Buck is unwilling to comprehend why they would leave someone behind. He ignores direct orders to evacuate and continues his search to find the one remaining victim by running directly thru fire away from a clear exit.

2012: Margaret calling Buck reckless. Screaming at him for being reckless, going off about how children die. Buck not understanding her point and how it has anything to do with the situation.

Maddie pulls in with a black jeep, Buck see’s her and runs out mid argument to go with her. They drive off.

Maddie pulling over on the side of the road, stepping out of the jeep and tossing Buck the keys. He’s confused by this. Maddie is offering Buck freedom, by gifting her car and a little bit of money. She’s telling him to go off, explore the world, don’t get stuck in their town.

Buck suggesting Maddie goes with him. They leave together, escape this life they have that he knows she’s unhappy in. Buck gives her speech back at her about the point being to just go. Maddie agrees to leave with Buck, she’s excited.

Buck is calling out, asking if anyone can hear him. He hears the victim and runs towards that direction. He finds the man and promises to get him out.  As he’s guiding the man out, the path he used is ingulfed in flames. They need to turn around, and they are surrounded by flames.

2012; Buck shows up at the hospital, looking for Maddie. Maddie’s friend stops Buck, and Buck asks him if she knows where Maddie is. He hands Buck a letter written by Maddie. She explains that she can’t join him, that her life is with Doug and that she is sorry. Maddie wants him to find his place in the world and to never come back. Buck walks out of the hospital angry.

Buck finds a possible exit, but it requires walking up a platform, he instructs the victim, Saleh, to walk up the platform with him. As they climb up, the fire gets larger, there is an explosion that causes them to fall off, Buck hits his head.

2012: Buck is sending post cards to Maddie’s job, telling her of all of his adventures. He’s been doing odd jobs, up and down the East coast. Admits to not being that mad at her for not going with him. He admits to not finding his place yet and he misses her.

Proceeds a montage of Maddie receiving postcards from Buck. He finished Bartending school and is a mixologist in Virginia Beach. He shares with Maddie all the ups and down of his journey, revealing when he stopped bartending, his new relationship didn’t work out, and left being near the beach to work construction. We learned he moved to California and joined the Navy seals. We learn in the next post card that he left the Navy Seal, and became a rancher. He is headed to Peru, to be a bartender again.  

Something I noticed about Maddie as she read the postcards was, she was always injured. At first it was subtle, like marks on her hands that were covered by her sweater, or bruising around her neck. The injuries just got progressively worse. I’ll admit to not noticing it right away, but when I went back they just became so visible.

2015: We meet Beach Ken, I mean Buck, bartending and watching a show about firefighters fighting an active fire. We meet Connor who invites him to go to LA. Explaining how much Buck would enjoy LA and Buck being very interested.

Buck is on the ground, unconscious. He slowly gets up and runs towards Saleh, who thanks Buck for attempting to save him. It’s obvious that Saleh has given up, he’s pinned down by a vat. Buck tries everything in his power to lift the vat off of him. Buck promises to get him out of there. The flames begin to surround them.

Bobby and Eddie walk up towards Chim and Hen. Chim asks them where Buck is. Bobby and Eddie confused, they thought he was with them. Hen explaining why they had split off. At that same moment Buck calls over the radio, revealing he found the last victim and didn’t evacuate. The 118 is not surprised by this.

Buck believes he is on the north east side of the building, but he specifies that he’s not sure. They start to send in help, and that’s when that side of the building explodes. Every one in the 118 looks at the direction of the explosion, their eyes are read concern and worry. Bobby looks the most panicked, with his eyes really bugging out.

2017: Buck is driving up to the 118 for his first day as a probationary firefighter. We learn he got the nick name Buck, because their where 3 other Evan’s in his class.  Buck introduces himself to the 118, who are eating together. He asks for Captain Nash. Bobby joking with Buck, and then asking him to take a seat and join them for dinner. Buck receives a proper welcome into the 118, he feels like he’s found his place.   

I realized that I never really pointed this out, but during the flash backs or when ever Maddie addressed Buck in front of their parents, she would call him Evan. His parents only call him Evan.

Buck starts to look around for a fire extinguisher, he spots it, but before going over to retrieve it, takes off his mask and gives it to Saleh, to help him breath. He says he’ll hold his breath as long as he can as he runs over to grab the fire extinguisher. He uses it until it’s empty at an attempt to fight off the flames that were surrounding them.

Saleh starts to lose consciousness as the sprinklers turn on, Buck feels a moment of relief. He gets up and starts to make shift a pully system with some rope. He pulls on the rope with all the energy he has left. He’s giving it his all, screaming and grunting as he pulls.

As he starts to give up and cry, Eddie grabs onto the rope, and the rest of the 118 pull up from behind. Buck gathering that he is not alone, gets his motivation back and helps pull the vat off of Saleh. They make process and I believe Hen is the one to pull Saleh from underneath the vat and towards safety.  We get a close up of Buck and he looks like he’s just processing the moment.

Outside, Buck is sitting on the ambulance. Bobby is asking him if he’s alright as Hen is there observing him. Buck admitting that he was lost, that it took only a matter of two seconds for him not to know where her was.

Hen vocalized that no one was surprised by the fact that he stayed in there. It was said in a tone of reassurance. Buck admits to almost giving up, and if it wasn’t for them, he may have. Hen cuts him off and states that they were there, not letting Buck go into the what ifs. Buck looks like he’s ready to cry.

Athena walks over to Buck, where Bobby reveals to her that Buck was the one to pull out the last victim. She’s not surprised by the news. Buck admits to needing to be rescued by everyone else. Athena states, “I’m sure whoever you saved is just glad you were being Buck.”

Buck reveals that he isn’t sure what she means by that. Taking the comment almost like an insult. Athena clarifies that she means he never gives up. And that he should never stop being Buck.

Buck smiles slightly at the comment, processing this moment.

Eddie is the first to greet Buck at the entrance of the 118. Bobby reveals that Buck is healthy and cleared by the doctors. Eddie looks so happy at this moment. Bobby walks off and Bucks stops in front of Eddie.

Eddie calls Buck a show off. Buck responding with, he had to do it. Eddie looking deeply into Buck’s eyes, says “I know you did” in the softest tone. Eddie reveals that Buck has some visitors and stays behind as Buck heads upstairs, slightly confused.

Margret and Phillip are sitting at the table upstairs. As Buck comes up, Phillip stands up to address him. Phillip revealed that the other fire fighters told them a lot of stories about Buck. Margaret pointing out that they really seem to think highly of him. As he’s processing their words, Buck admits to liking them too. Margaret and Phill look at each other awkwardly.

Okay so I know the other firefighters they spoke to implies that they likely spoke to Hen, Chim, and other random firefighters at the station about him. But from what we as the viewer can see, and the fact that I do not see Hen, Chim, or any random extras roaming around. I can assume most of their conversation was had with Eddie. Buck is likely assuming the same.  So by following this formula, Eddie was gushing over Buck to his parents. His parents made the assumption that Eddie likes Buck. Buck revealed to them that he likes him back. I’m allowed to be delusional, don’t ruin this for me.

Margert reveals that she doesn’t know where to start. Buck takes that moment and apologizes about Daniel. Margaret and Phill are shocked at the mention of Daniel’s name. Buck sympathizes with them and admits to not understanding that kind of pain.  

Phil tries to interject, calls Buck, Evan. Buck stops him and corrects him. Telling him that Buck is his name. Phillip corrects himself, and proceeds to tell Buck that he was never blamed for Daniels passing. Buck vocalizes that he wished he could have done more.

Marget states, “You were born to save someone and that’s what you do.” She reveals that they are proud of him.

I’ll admit Marget’s line was cute, but where was their apology. They asked for forgiveness but never really apologized.

Buck walks down stairs to the locker, where Chimney asks how the conversation went. Buck reveals that everything went okay, prompting Chim to ask about Buck’s relationship with Maddie. Buck wants to dismiss the conversation at that point. Basically, admitting to still being upset with Maddie.

Chim stating if you are able to forgive your parents, you have to find a way to forgive Maddie. Buck being held up on the fact that Maddie didn’t tell him. Buck has his forehead resting against the locker, in a sense looking defeated as he states that. Chimney defending her choice, revealing why she didn’t tell him, trying to avoid Buck feeling unwanted.

Buck telling Chimney that he was unwanted and unloved. Chim telling him, that he was loved, specifically by Maddie. Buck not believing that, because Maddie was the one to send him away, and didn’t go with him to find freedom. Chim reveals to Buck the real reason why she didn’t go with him and how Doug really hurt her and how she never wanted him to know.

Buck showing up with Chim to the apartment. Maddie surprised to see Buck there. Buck slowly closes the door behind him. He tells her how their parents showed up at the fire house and how he forgave them. Buck explains it wasn’t difficult to forgive them, because it is hard to feel betrayed by someone you wouldn’t count on.

He proceeds to acknowledge how easy it is to lash out on the person that will forgive you. Buck proceeds to talk about how his life could have been completely different if he had known the truth.

He asks Maddie to tell him more about Daniel, because he knows he can’t ask his parents.

Maddie pulls out all of the post cards he’s ever sent her. Revealing she’s kept every single one of them. Montage of Maddie and Buck growing up and being there for each other.

I want to take this time to compare Eddie Begins and Buck Begins. Eddie begins is about his young adult life and navigating being a new father, the army, and being a spouse. Buck begins is about Buck’s entire life, from discovering the reason why he was born, why he was neglected, and navigating the world. They both come from difficult families, but Buck’s upbringing pisses me off a lot. I dislike Eddie’s parents, but I don’t hate them. It’s probably because I didn’t get to see Eddie’s situation growing up, I’ve only heard Eddie’s retellings. I actually got to witness Buck’s parents fail him that’s likely why I feel so strongly about them. I love that in both Eddie Begins and Buck Begins, we do get to see at least a little bit of how Buck and Eddie care for each other. It was of course more dramatic it Eddie’s story, but still very much visible in Buck’s story.

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

About your last meta, since TV series Dream is going through his character development more rapidly(changing Gault into a dream, admitting he was wrong and apologizing to both Gault and Lucienne, saying that he will try to listen more) do you think he'll survive his tragic fate? I'm desperately hoping he does

honestly, i've almost written so many metas on this, and never ended up posting any, because the short answer is i just don't know

but if you want my evidence either way...

reasons the ending may change

everything is kinder in the tv show. the world it's working towards is just a better place. john not killing rosemary, unity and desire's relationship being consensual and meaningful, the changes in tone to sound of her wings, the fact that dream seems actually open to calliope's suggestion of reconnecting rather than just outright saying no, the corinthian actually taking care of jed rather than just stuffing him in the trunk of his car, i'm sure there's more i can't think of right now, but this adaptation is astoundingly accurate, most of the scenes are taken from the comics word for word. whenever a scene isn't lifted directly from the comics, i invariably find it's more hopeful than what was originally there

when neil was asked why john didn't kill rosemary, one of the things he said was that he didn't want comic fans to think they always know what's going to happen

as you mentioned, the entire gault plotline. dream's entire problem is that he doesn't believe he's capable of change. by making him realise that one of his nightmares is, that's certainly setting some kind of precedent! (and, while i'm not assuming neil won't pull a bait and switch here given the disparity between what lucifer's actually planning to do to dream and what it sounds like they are, "a new age" is certainly a Choice of line if you're planning on killing dream five years later)

rose and lyta. first off, rose is allowed to remember what happened to her, which immediately gives her a lot more agency over the plot. and she knows lyta a lot better, which means that lyta has a support system in the show that she did not have in the comics. if daniel goes missing, in the show, rose knows the entire story, and she's gonna take that straight to dream, if she can. i am sure the "if you have the power to destroy the world, then you have the power to destroy him!" "i don't want to destroy him" line is going to be relevant in the future

reasons it may not:

daniel's still a character. one way or another, i don't think morpheus is going to make it through this and remain dream of the endless

there's no changes made to desire and dream's last scene, where dream talks (in vague terms) about how that was a murder attempt desire just did, killing family will bring the kindly ones down on his head, like desire vowed to do way back when (and given one particular mason interview where they talked about looking forward to the audience understanding all the backstory behind that conversation, i believe this line is still foreshadowing, dream will still have to kill orpheus and lyta will harness the kindly ones against him)

i think the addition of matthew to the scenes in hell adds a lot to later comic scenes (see: this post for more on that)

tragedies are a specific form of storytelling with their own rules, they're not the same as "regular story, but you made the characters lose at the end". sandman, as a story, follows the rules of a tragedy. and as much as i would also like good things for dream, in order to tell this as a story with a happy ending, a lot would have to change right from the start. which, just personally, i don't really want it to, because a lot of the scenes i really like and find the most meaningful of this story would probably have to get cut or heavily modified to support that new story

and further on that, just from a writing perspective - in a story with a happy ending, tension is created by placing obstacles between the characters and what they want, things they have to surpass and fight for. in a tragedy, getting what the character wants has to be so easy, if they were anyone else in the story. tension is created through the fact that everyone involved can see the exit out of the tragedy, it's right there, but the qualities that fundamentally make the character who they are are the same qualities that keep them from acting.

the conflict in this story is undoubtedly between dream and himself. his need to abandon this burden that is far too heavy, vs his inability to take any action that runs counter to his duty. and it's made interesting by who he's placed in opposition to. what is the point of lucifer as a character, of destruction, if dream could listen to them? if watching someone change for the better could actually change him, then what's the rest of the story? he's already learned that from gault, you could cut it right here. and sure you could test that a few more times, but if we were writing a story about an immortal being who learns they're not beholden to their universe given duty, who has to overcome millenia of responsibility and feeling like they're not really a person in order to realise they're in control of their own life and can live how they choose - that's already lucifer's story. and destruction's. why aren't we writing about them, instead?

one of the big questions we ask in storywriting is why here, why now, why this person? and what makes dream unique is his utter unyielding dedication to the rules and to his responsibilities. and that means that, despite every other character in this story pointing out the glaring neon exit sign from the tragedy, he could never have done anything other than what he did

and you could do it, don't get me wrong. if you wanted to write sandman as a story with a happy ending, you could take dream down a path of learning to be someone else, to change enough that he's no longer the character that gets grabbed by the tragedy (though it'll still be a tragedy for lyta). and if we were gonna do that, and do it well, season one has been a good setup for it. but that's a different story, that will require different challenges, ones that actually make him learn, rather than making the situation progressively worse with every challenge he ignores. and it really comes down to i don't know how much neil is willing to entirely rewrite his masterpiece like that

i think s2 will tell, one way or another, because season of mists is where the tragedy properly starts. as much as i ended up writing a longer thing under reasons why not, that's just because they were more complicated concepts to explain, i genuinely cannot predict what neil is gonna do here. every time i think about this i feel like my opinion falls on a different side. but like i said, whether you're aiming for tragedy or a happy ending, you have to sow those seeds early on, or it's gonna leave the audience feeling betrayed, no matter which you choose. preludes and doll's house, they're early enough and unconnected enough they could fall on either side. but i think season of mists is gonna make it evidently clear

[pearljen-blog]

Renovations with Joel Miller - 07

Chapter  07 - Submission

This chapter is not written from the readers perspective. It starts off at the end of the last chapter from Joel’s POV.

Joel is not really nice in this and has to make up for it in the next chapter.

When I write this, I have the video game version of Joel in my mind, but can be changed to the HBO version if preferred. Taking place pre outbreak in Austin Texas.

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab reader

Warnings: Reader is afab and has medium - long hair/ swearing / Smut! This is 18 + only / Joel is not really nice here. All actions are consensual but reader is drunk and as such warning should be given if this is a trigger for you.

Warnings: This is 18+ content. Please do not interact with this content if you are under the age or do not generally like smutty content. Adult themes and language used below the cut.

Something dark and depraved is brewing at the back of his mind. It’s not new; it’s just new with you. He wants to take advantage of you. Use your body anyway he wants. The fact that you let him do whatever he wants, no questions asked since you entered his home, makes him want to see how far he can push you tonight. It’s not right, but he’s not feeling guilty either.

Joel and you pack up the tent together. It’s easy enough with two people and you are ready to hike back within 20 minutes.

His thoughts are wandering right away. He can’t wait to see Sarah again, but his mind is occupied thinking about the future for the both of you. You are compatible in most ways. Somehow you manage to deal with his closed off attitude, better than most people he’s come across. And the sex so far has been amazing. He will replay the last few hours in his mind many times.

But Joel is thinking 15 steps ahead. He has to, because of the responsibilities he’s facing every day and just generally how he was brought up. He’s wondering if you’ll stick around once the monotonous and repetitive day to day routine sets in.

Him coming home late and tired most evenings. The few hours of free time, occupied with his daughter.

The both of you living in different cities.

Is this going to be a weekend only relationship? It’s just begun, but he can’t stop thinking about the romance slipping away already. Like it always did in the past.

‘I’ll bring you back home or do you need to stop somewhere? Food or something?’

‘I’m fine. Home would be great.’ You smile at him.

‘Home it is.’

The drive back to Lulling is quiet. Joel lost in his thoughts, but neither of you seem to mind the lack of conversation. He looks over at you once a while and has the need to touch your knee or thigh. It’s equal part attraction and his worry about the future with you. You are young and he can’t expect you to settle for a boring suburban life with him.

Plus, the friction he caused between you and your brother. He nearly forgot about the events, and immediately regrets putting you into this position.

He stops the car in your driveway.

‘Will you be around next week to work on the house?’

Joels looks at you. You are glowing. You look at him with your huge expecting eyes and it hurts him.

‘Yeah. Probably from Tuesday.’ He simply replies.

‘I’m working in Austin on Tuesday, so I may not see you. Maybe next weekend we can do something if you’re free?

‘Next weekend. Listen…’ Joel hesitates. ‘I really enjoyed this time with you, but my primary focus is Sarah you know.’

There it is. He can see the worry on your face, your eyes drifting away in confusion. He can see you holding your breath.

‘Sorry, I don’t want this to come out the wrong way. But it’s just the reality of being a single parent. Plus, I’m taking on another job soon in Austin. Not as big as yours, but I’ll be working there few hours a week.’

He’s telling the truth, but he knows the words offer no comfort. You did nothing wrong but will blame yourself regardless.

‘I understand.’ You say quietly.

Joel can’t face you in this moment. He’s looking straight out of the car window, and desperately wants to escape this conversation. You are hurting. He knows. And he knows he’s the reason for it.

You speak again. ‘Look I’d love to see you again. I mean, besides you working on my house. But I don’t expect you to sacrifice your evenings or weekends with your daughter for me.’

Joel can feel your soft touch on his arm, but he’s still unable to look at you right now.

‘How about you let me know when you’re free again. I’m happy to wait until things settle down. I’d even offer to meet you and Sarah for a hike or dinner or something, but I suspect it’s a bit early for that.’

Images of the three of you together come to his mind. But he doesn’t allow himself to linger in the fantasy and cuts it off just as quickly.

‘Well, you’ve met her before. And she likes you. Thinks you are really pretty.’

He says the next part quietly and mostly to himself. ‘But yeah it’s a bit early to play family.’

Joel finally turns to you again and your puppy eyes nearly break him. You deserve so much better.

You look right at him and continue. ‘You have my number, give me a call when the time is right Joel. I hope I will still see you around the house some days.’

He feels like shit.

‘Yeah you will for sure.’

He sees you getting ready to exit the car. A minute ago, he was unable to look at your direction, but right now he can’t stand the thought of seeing you leave. He knows he’s just dropping you off, but it suddenly feels like you are leaving him for good.

He messed up. What was a beautiful weekend is now a sad goodbye. Both of you wounded.

**********

When Joel gets home, he’s greeted with an empty house. He drops his bags at the bottom of the stairs and starts looking for Sarah and Tommy. There’s leftover food in the kitchen from last night. Mexican food and popcorn.

He’s slowly going from room to room, asking both of their names while he’s looking. Finally, he finds them hanging out in the back garden. Tommy half asleep and Sarah reading a magazine.

He walks over to Sarah and bends down to kiss her head. She squeezes his arm in response.

‘Sooooo… how was the hike?’ She asks.

‘Was good. Nice area. Will take you some day. Think you’d like it.’

Joel sits down on a chair and stretches his legs. Still lost in his own thoughts.

Tommy is shuffling on his chair, rubbing his eyes. Then he adds himself into the conversation.

‘Look who’s back.’ Tommy smiles. ‘How was the night big brother? Get any sleep?’

‘Tommy!!’ Joel says with a harsh look.

Tommy only chuckles, dropping his temple on a popped-up fist on the armchair.

‘Well, we had a great evening. Watched that … what was that movie called?’ Tommy throws into Sarah’s direction.

‘Pitch perfect.’

‘Yeah, watched that and ordered food. There’s some left over. In the kitchen.’

‘Yeah I saw. Looking a mess.’ Joel is looking at his feet.

Tommy looks at Joel until he says. ‘Walk with me brother’. He gets up and pats Joel on the shoulder, walking inside the house.

Joel closes his eyes for a second. He has flashes of you in the tent, you in the car with those sad eyes and you exiting the car. He can feel his anxiety taking over. One hand clenched in a fist involuntarily.

Slowly he’s following Tommy inside.

He joins Tommy in the kitchen, where he knows that Sarah can’t hear them. Joel is looking at the ground. He’s not in the mood to talk, but he knows that Tommy will wants answers.

‘So what happened? She broke up with you or smthing?’

‘What?’ Joel just looks at Tommy. ‘No Tommy, she didn’t break up with me.’

‘So? Why are you so miserable?’

He messed up. He knows it now.

Joel doesn’t respond.

‘Sex is bad?’

Joel shakes his head. ‘Not it was… great. None of your god-damn business.’

‘Joel!’

He takes a deep breath. Hating this conversation.

‘We had a great time. All that included. She’s just…’ He’s not sure what word will come out next. ‘Unattainable.’

‘The hell you mean Joel? I see the way she looks at you.’

‘That’s not it… I mean the every-day living part. What you think she will move in here? Play happy family?

‘Joel what the hell…?’

Tommy is shaking his head, face twisting into a scowl. He’s trying to respond but no words come out.

‘What did you tell her?’ He finally asks.

Joel is collecting his thoughts. Taking a deep breath and puffing up his chest like he’s going into battle. Arms folded in front of him.

‘Just to take things slowly. Sort of... I told her I’m not sure when I’m free next. Which is true by the way.’

‘I hope she told you to fuck off.’

No, you didn’t. You offered him patience and space.

He wasn’t proud of himself. He tried to forget the whole conversation, but Tommy making him reflect on what happened an hour ago makes it all come up again.

He feels like throwing up.

‘I don’t know…’ Was all he could respond.

‘Call her. Jesus Joel, if you want her, you need to give her some indication.’

Yeah he’s right, but Joel also knows he can’t call you. He’s terrified.

‘Maybe you’re right, and she’s, you know… She doesn’t want this.’ Tommy gestures around the house with his hands. ‘But from all the conversations we had over the last few weeks. Jesus, I know you want her, and you can.’

Joel’s face is crunched up. Arms still crossed; he’s now partially leaning on the kitchen counter.

Tommy looks at him but then walks back outside to join Sarah.

Joel remains frozen in place. Thoughts occupied with your face. He can see all these different scenarios in his head. You and him in his kitchen, him alone on the couch, Sarah falling asleep between the two of you, you in the tent…

***

Joel and Tommy work at your place on Tuesday. You are not around, and Joel is not sure if that’s what he prefers right now. He’s equally scared about facing you and not facing you.

Tommy only brings the subject up once on the drive back to Austin.

‘Have you talked to her?’

‘No didn’t have time.’

Hhmmm is all Tommy replies. He knows better than to push Joel right now.

If you would call him, he would answer you. But you don’t and he can’t blame you. He asked for space, and that’s what you give him.

Thursday you meet for 5 minutes at your house. Joel and Tommy are finishing up when you arrive. Joel is trying to greet you with an open and kind manner. Giving you a smile when you stand in front of each other. But he can see you are hesitant. Neither one of you making any move to be close.

You look so beautiful, and he wants to touch your face badly. Feel you against him. Feel your naked body against him. Hear you moan.

Joel has to stop himself from letting his mind wonder again. It translates into a frown on his face.

You ask about the progress in the house. If there’s anything they need, if anything came up this week.

‘I will text you an update as usual.’

‘Yeah thanks, that’s great.’

You smile at him. Neither one of you sure how to keep the conversation going.

‘You got any plans for the weekend Y/N?’ Tommy asks, walking by.

Your gaze follows Tommy, and you turn away from Joel.

‘Just a work thing. Dinner paid by the office. Drinks not included of course.’

‘Yeah? Where ya going?’

‘Actually I don’t know. Some place near the university there. I haven’t been before.’

‘Austin?’

‘Ah yeah, up in Austin.’

‘You driving back?’

‘Staying with a friend I think.’

Tommy gives Joel a quick look, before turning back to you.

She’s spending the weekend in Austin. Joel knows he should add something. Come over if you want to. Maybe I can meet you for a drink. But he remains silent.

‘Well, have fun. Can tell me all about it next week.’ Tommy breaks the silence and walks towards the car.

Joel follows behind from the other side. He turns to you on the way to the car and sees you waving goodbye. He replies with a small nod, still not trusting himself to speak.

In the car, Tommy gives Joel a frustrated look.

‘Fucking hell Joel. Calm down.., give her a chance to speak.’ He says ironically.

Joel frowns and reverses the car out of the driveway.

‘No really. Good thing you didn’t make this awkward.’

‘Shut up.’

He knows that Tommy is right. The longer this silence goes on, the worse it gets. It’s his default behaviour. Things get tough, he just shuts down.

He did it before when he started working on your house and tried to keep it strictly professional. It was Tommy who talked him into inviting you over for a beer. A way of saying thank you for offering your van.

Joel hated the idea of having you in his house initially. But you were so kind and sweet, never doubting his ability or decisions on the job. And offering the van really did save him for that week. He also couldn’t hide his attraction to you. It’s not that you were running around in skimpy outfits but seeing you in a tight shirt or denim shorts was enough to drive him crazy at times. He fantasised about you a lot. Made himself come nearly every night. Thinking of you bend over in your house and him taking advantage of your body. Naked and sweaty and full of want for him.

***

Why are you doing this Joel? What happbened?

It was Saturday night. Joel spending the evening with Sarah on the couch, watching movies. She was burned out from the day, playing all day with her friends in the park.

He had to work a few hours and allowed himself to have a beer in the evening. He was thinking about having a glass of whiskey, but it would only drag him down on Sunday.

At 10pm is when he received your text.

He’s wants to reply but he’s unsure about what to say. So, he puts the phone away again. Hoping he’ll come up with something better. He doesn’t.

Around 11pm, you call.

Joel looks to his side and sees Sarah asleep. Then he answers the phone.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey.’ You reply and he can hear music and voices in the background.

‘Fuck you Joel Miller.’ He can hear that you have been drinking as well. Despite the situation, it makes him smile, he’s never experienced you like this.

Joel remains quiet.

‘What happened? Man, I thought we had a beautiful time. You didn’t like it? Or I did something? I wasn’t sure when you dropped me that weekend. Like something changed. But now you full on ignore me. Joel… I’m sorry if I did anything. Just, tell me so I at least know. I like to think about that evening in the tent… The sky was that crimson and orange colour.  And then you were there and .. god I’m rambling I’m sorry..’

‘Hey.’ He finally cuts you off. ‘Where are you?’

‘Mockingbird.. we’re in that university area.’

‘Come over?’

There was a silence on the phone. No reply from you.

‘What?’

‘Come here. Please.’

More silence.

‘I want to see you.’ Joel adds.

He doesn’t want to explain. Doesn’t want his fears to bubble up again. Right now, all he can think about is having you close again.

‘So, you want me over to fuck and then ignore me again? That it?’

He can hear you being upset, and you have every right to be. But he can’t deny how cute you sound all tipsy. His cock is twitching. Joel knows it’s not right. You should talk it out first. He should apologise for not handling it better. But all he wants is you in house. Naked.

‘Come over baby.’ Is all he replies.

He can hear you breath in deeply before you respond with a quiet ok. ‘I’ll try and get a taxi or uber.’

He smirks to himself.

‘Call me when you’re here. Let me know if there’s any issues.’

‘Sure, ok.’

30 minutes later he gets another message from you.

Outside

Joel quietly gets up from the couch, careful not to wake Sarah. The TV is still on and throwing in background noise.

He walks over to the front door and opens it. He’s expecting you, but he’s not expecting you to look like this. All black, short dress and tights. Very different from your usual casual attire. He can’t help himself from starring at your legs and then up to your faintly red lips. If he saw you on a night out, he would never have the courage to talk to you. He can’t believe you are here willingly, for him.

You look at him like a deer in headlights. All shy and unsure on how to proceed.

‘Hi pretty.’ He throws at you, lip curling slightly. You don’t move.

He steps slightly backwards, moving for you to step inside. You follow him slowly and he puts one hand on your shoulder to guide you all the way in.

You stumble slightly once inside. Joel catches you and grabs you by the arm. He can see your eyes slightly glazed and your cheek flushed. You, being somewhat drunk and so innocent right now, turns him on immensely.

He moves his index finger to his lips and indicates for you to be quiet. Then he looks over to the living room, where Sarah is sleeping. You follow his gaze and nod.

He moves on slightly towards the stairs but sees you taking off your shoes first. Possibly to be quieter, he thinks to himself. He remains close to you, in case you stumble again. Then you both walk upstairs. You first and Joel behind you.

Joel can’t stop starring at your ass and legs as he follows behind you. He thinks about touching you right here, but he wants to have you in the privacy of his bedroom.

He leads you inside his bedroom and closes the door behind him. Locking it all the way; just in case.

You step further into the room, but only slightly. Hovering near Joel where the door is. He grabs you by the elbow, softly, and pushes you towards him. He just stars into your face, bringing one hand up to cup it.

It’s the complete opposite from the last few days. He can’t take his eyes or hands of you.

You are pliable like pine wood in his hands. No resistance, you just melt into his touch. And it makes him hard.

He takes his thumb up to your lips and drags it down. Slowly but not soft. When he removes his thumb, you bite your bottom lip and look at him like you are waiting for instructions.

Joel looks you up and down. Then starts moving the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

You don’t stop him and turn your head slightly to show him the zipper on the back of your dress.

He leans in close to you and grabs all the way around to drag it down. You take out your arms until the dress falls down your body most of the way. Joel grabs one of your elbows to steady you, when you step out of the fabric, knowing you may need the support tonight.

His eyes drift to your chest when you stand in front of him again. He nods at you, hoping you’ll get the hint. You do and take off your bra as well. Your nipples are hard, and Joel can feel the blood pump through his cock. He takes one of his arms around your waist and brings the other one to play with your exposed breast.  

You moan slightly and he can see you closing your eyes. Your skin is so soft, and Joel rakes his hand over your exposed midriff.

Something dark and depraved is brewing at the back of his mind. It’s not new; it’s just new with you. He wants to take advantage of you. Use your body anyway he wants. The fact that you let him do whatever he wants, no questions asked since you entered his home, makes him want to see how far he can push you tonight. It’s not right, but he’s not feeling guilty either.

Joel brings one hand up towards your neck and starts pushing you down. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t have to because you follow his guide regardless.

You hold onto him and situate yourself in front of him, on your knees. You look up and Joel brings his hand up to your head. Petting you like a little kitten.

He starts unbuttoning his jeans and drags them down slightly. He’s fully erect underneath and takes out his cock, without moving his underpants down. He looks at you, while he’s slowly pumping himself.

Your face is lined up perfectly with his crotch. Your eyes are still glassy, and your lips have a faint red stain left to them. You look like a whore he thinks but doesn’t say it out loud.

Instead, he uses the hand around the back of your head to push your face forward onto his hard cock. You open your mouth and let him guide you as far as he wants. He doesn’t push you all the way down, but enough to make you moan around him.

Your hands remain by your side, and you let Joel set the rhythm. It’s slow in the beginning. He wants to see how far he can push you before you struggle.

Suddenly he starts pushing his cock all the way down your throat, and it’s the first time you show any sign of resistance. Your hands come up out of reflex and settle on his thighs. He lets you catch your breath right away and moves his hand from the back of your head to your face. He tilts your face up and forces you to look at him.

Your eyes meet. Yours are watery now and your face is flushed.

‘Doing great.’

You grab his cock with one hand and start moving your head back down. Taking him halfway in. He’s enjoying it.

Joel throws his head back and closes his eyes for a second. He knows that if he keeps looking at you, he won’t last very long. After a few seconds, which helped nothing to compose himself, he looks back down at you and brings his hand back to your head. You still control the rhythm.

That’s until he starts fisting your hair and pushes your head down all the way every other time. You drop your hand and he bucks his hips into you whenever he pushes your face down.

You gurgle around him, and he can see you having your eyes closed. Your face wet from the tears spilling down. He knows he’s using you right now. Fucking your face with no regard for you.

He keeps going for minutes.

Joel is groaning until he knows he’s close. He pulls your head off him and bends your face back towards him. You look at him and he can’t help himself. He has a smirk on his face from your messy appearance. Make-up smeared around your eyes and sweaty all over.

‘Open darling.’ He says while pumping himself with his free hand.

You don’t respond right away, and his grip on your hair tightens for a second. He groans deeply while he does it.

Then you open your mouth and show your tongue around your bottom lip. It’s enough for him to finish all over your pretty face. Partially hitting your open mouth and your cheek.

‘Fuck.’ He says louder than he anticipated and lets your head go.

You slump back down onto your knees and move your head to the side. Joel has to collect himself for a second, cock still in his hand. He brings his hand back to your hair, much softer than before. Stroking you softly like a pet. Then he turns your head back to him and he angles it to get a good view at your cum smeared face. He moves you slightly, and it’s the most delicious things he’s ever seen.

His cock twitches right away. He’s not getting hard but it’s enough to draw his mind back to the things he wants to do to you. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell in the post orgasm bliss.

Joel grabs your arm and pulls you up from your knees. You hold onto him, while you stand up all the way, still on shaky legs.

When you are face to face with him, he takes another second to look at your dripping face. Both from tears and his cum.

His thumb finding your cheek to slip through his release. He collects a small amount and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and taste his cum without hesitation.

His cock pulsing now, getting half hard.

Joel looks at you and then down your body. He lingers on your tits and grazes your nipple with his other hand. You shake slightly from the sensitive touch.

‘Filthy’ he says looking you over.

‘For you.’ You say quietly. It’s the first thing you’ve said, since walking into his bedroom.

Joel smiles at you knowingly.

‘Take the rest of your clothes off.’

You fidget your hands down your tights and slip them off over your ass. You pull the tights and your underwear down at the same time. Joel doesn’t offer you and help this time and it takes you three attempts to step out of them.

‘Easy darling’ is all he says, without offering any help.

When you are fully nude you stand back in front of him, unsure of what to do next.

Joel has his cock back in his hand, pumping his half-had member lazily.

He sees your eyes looking down at him and you reach a hand to help him. Joel lets you take his cock in your hand but puts his own hand over yours. Dictating the pressure and rhythm as he likes it.

You gasp slightly. He’s squeezing your hand more than you anticipated.

‘See what you do? Already hard again babe.’

His speed increases and he’s nearly fully erect again. You stay like this for a minute. Him yerking himself off, with your hand around his cock. He takes his free hand and moves it between your legs. His middle finger touches your lips. The outside first until he pushes in deeper. He feels your wetness and drags his finger through your slick. Then he slowly pushes inside of you. He has to bend over slightly to accommodate this position.

You moan and fall into his chest. He’s still pumping himself while knuckle deep inside you.

Joel adds a second finger inside you and quickly after a third one. You hiss this time, just out of reflex from being stretched. But he doesn’t stop from finger fucking you. Just shushing you slightly, while you lie with your head in his neck.

He’s fully hard now again and takes his fingers out of your cunt. His hand moves behind you and gives you a hard slap on your ass. You jolt and look up at him. Joel removes your hand from his cock and moves you across the room by your elbow. You follow him quietly.

He brings you to a drawer on the other side of the room with a mirror on top. There he moves you to face the furniture, with your back towards him. He wastes no time moving you into position, just how he likes it. Bending you over with your hand propped on the drawer to keep you up.

He steps back just slightly and smacks your ass one more time, before pulling your cheeks apart. He can see your ring and glistening cunt underneath. His hand moves between your crack and his thumb pushes into both holes slightly. You hiss both times. He would love to fuck your ass, but he knows this is one boundary he needs to discuss with you before. He’s not willing to cross this threshold in your current state.

Instead, Joel starts pumping himself again and moves his cock towards your cunt. He pushes in the tip, just enough so it stays there without his hand. Then he grabs your hair again to pull your head up. He wants to see your cum smeared face in the mirror, and wants you to see it too.

‘Looking like a whore.’ This time he says it out loud instead of just thinking it.

You moan loudly and he can see you starring at your own reflection. It makes him feral to see you in this state. He pushes inside you now. Slowly but all the way.

You gasp at the intrusion. And though you are able to take it all, you also have to adjust your stance slightly. Joel keeps one hand in your hair, holding it like a ponytail, and the other hand on your hip to offer resistance. Then he pulls out and pushes all the way back inside.

You gasp ‘Joel’ loudly and your knuckles turn white around the edge of the drawer. He pulls your hair harshly and shushes you to be quiet.

Joel is looking between the mirror and back down at where he’s entering you. He’s trying to keep quiet but unable to muffle his groans. The room is filled with the noises of his hips meeting your ass and the combined moans from the both of you.

‘Fuck. Fuck. Joel.’ You say more quietly this time. Joel fucks you harder in return.

He can feel you cramp around him with your cunt. You have to adjust again in order not to be pushed into the drawer. Joel keeps fucking you hard and fast. He can see the sweat rolling down your lower back and feel it equally dripping from his forehead. He looks back up in the mirror, seeing you struggling to hold your composure.

He’s getting close again, can feel it pulsing through his abdomen. The grip of his hand in your hair loosens and he brings his hand down to your hips. Meeting your ass first, before gripping both sides of your hips hard. He’s stuttering now, his path getting less regular.

Without the hand in your hair, your upper body is now dropped down on the drawer and Joel doesn’t correct you this time.

He groans loud until he pulls out of you. A loud gasp escapes you and you look back up into the mirror.

Joel pumps himself twice more before coming all over your lower back and ass.

‘Fuckn hell.’ Is all he says. Finishing with another hard slap to your ass and letting go of you.

Without his grip on you, you slide down to the floor until you are back on your knees and draped over yourself. Joel takes a few steps away from you. Breathing heavy and with his hands covering is face. His head is blank and he’s unable to look at you. Unsure how far he pushed you.

When he finally looks back at you and sees you slumped over on the floor, he meets you there to drape his arms around you.

You look like a scared little lamb, unable to look up at him. He did this to you and yet he’s feeling no shame or guild. When he pulls you into him closer, he sees the rest of his cum still smeared on your face and for a second he wonders if he could go a third round tonight. He will never get this picture our of his head.

But he’s equally spent and this time he does take pity on you. He brings your naked body back up, half leaning on you.

‘You’re a mess.’ He whispers into your hair.

‘I’m sorry.’ You reply.

Joels chuckles at your response. The fact, that you are the one apologizing after he used you for his own pleasure is comical.

He drapes a think blanket around your used body and leads you towards the bedroom door. He unlocks it and pears out before exiting the room with you. Then he slowly and carefully walks you to the bathroom next door. He’s treating you like a porcelain doll now, in contrast to his harsh grip on you just a few minutes ago.

Once you are inside the bathroom, he lets you sit on the toilet seat while he turns on the shower and waits for it to heat up.

‘Take a quick shower baby. I will be back in just a few minutes.’

With that he leads you into the warm shower, making sure you have enough stamina left to keep yourself up.

He washes his hands, forehead and brushes his teeth quickly before closing the bathroom door and descending downstairs to check on Sarah. Halfway down the stairs he buttons up his pants fully before he enters the living room. Sarah is still fully asleep on the couch and Joel sings a silent prayer. She will never know what happened upstairs.

He lifts her up and brings her upstairs to her room, letting her rest softly on her bed. Then he returns to you in the bathroom and helps you out of the shower. You still look a mess, but you are no longer covered in his release.

Joel sits you down on the toilet seat again and holds your head in his hands. He softly grazes under your eyes to remove some of the smeared makeup, still visible after the shower. You look up at him and softly mirror his movement by putting one of your hands to his face.

The gesture is unexpected for Joel and he does a quick double take.

‘You gonna ignore me again Joel?’

He sees your pleading look on your face and shakes his head slightly. You look at each other, before he kisses you deeply.

Previous Chapter // Masterlist

I had an idea for this scenario for a long time, just didn’t know where to place it. I had a little writers block and decided on a Joel POV chapter.

Initially I wanted to build on the drama but the little poll on my page showed be that people had less interest in drama lol

Joel is not a nice guy in this. Next chapter will be all about your pleasure. Promised!

[expansionofsoul]

Profile - Jake Kiszka

Words: 2400

Synopsis: Jake Kiszka is joined by a music journalist as they work together on his profile. 

Warnings: None!

Note: In real life, I am a music journalist and have written multiple profiles before - although they are never in English. That being said, this is a completely made up profile. Hope you enjoy this different approach, and I am so sorry for taking this long to write again! 

If you’d like to be added to a taglist, let me know. Here is a link to my masterlist, with the rest of my work. :) 

Jake offers me another piece of cake. He was excited when I told him I liked chocolate cake, and considered it his duty to offer me as many pieces as he could without making me sick. This would be my third, and his second. I wasn’t exactly truthful when I accepted another piece, as I was so incredibly full I could feel my entire body reacting to the dessert. 

As we ate, he kept one of his hands free, so he could touch his birthday candles. Closer to thirty than to twenty, as he had said before. When we first met and he suggested that we did his profile during a weekend in April, I immediately accepted. It was my mistake, as a professional, that I didn’t notice it was his birthday weekend. I called him a few days after our first meeting, and offered another weekend the month after, but he insisted that it was the best date for him, and changing it would make him upset. 

That was the first thing I learned about Jake Kiszka - the man, not the guitarist. Other than the quiet, reserved man I was expecting to meet, I was immediately introduced to a very sensitive man, that took every word into consideration during conversations and wanted to make sure everything went the perfect way. Fearing it would make him give up if I, once again, suggested something else, I said I would be at his place on Saturday, first thing in the morning. 

The idea was that we would spend that Saturday together, doing interviews as he created new music and celebrated his birthday. I asked him if he was throwing a party, and he denied. This would be one of the first times he would celebrate all by himself - not considering the writer that would quietly keep him company. He did mention that, later that night, one of his siblings would visit, but did not clarify which one. That either meant I would be meeting another member of the band or the one sibling that didn’t end up playing with them. 

When I first arrived at around 9 am, he was already expecting me. I knew that because I could see his figure standing by the window, calmly looking outside and trying to figure out which car was mine. He wore light blue pajamas and was starting to make coffee - black, with the tiniest ammount of sugar. Music was playing, and when I did not recognize it, he seemed to find that funny. 

Our first interview was conducted as we sipped our coffee. Jake seemed more interested in talking about his art before his personal life, so that was our main topic for a few hours. He didn’t talk for the entire time, making long pauses and asking me if I wanted anything to eat. For about half an hour, in the middle of our conversation, he stopped to cook himself scrambled eggs. During that time, neither of us spoke up, quietly listening to the music. 

Jake Kiszka seems to view his music not as an artistic connection to the universe or a job. More often than not, he references music as his own personal way to connect with other people. When I ask him about his favorite part of being a musician, he mentions the look on people’s faces while he plays, or the way he can see the crowd dancing and singing along. When I ask him about the band, he lovingly talks about how much fun his brothers have when they play, no matter how exhausted they all are by the end of a concert. Nothing that he mentions has to do with him, specifically. 

For a decade, Jake has been playing with the same three people: his twin brother, Josh, his youngest sibling, Sam, and their friend - although he often refers to him as his own brother as well, Danny Wagner. Jake considers their connection one of the most important reasons why their music works so well, especially during live performances. Besides the obvious connection he has with the other band members, they seem to be able to understand the differences between each other - different music genres they enjoy, the time they need to create, and how they behave on stage. 

Jake seems to avoid talking about his brothers in a more personal way at first. He is a perfectionist, not only with his music but with everything that surrounds him. If the interview is about art, he will only mention his art. I ask him about his creation methods and, once again, he finds what I said funny. According to him, his creating processes are more simple than they may seem. Riffs come to him naturally, when he’s playing around with his strings and trying to figure out what sounds good. He enjoys writing with his brothers more than writing alone, because he finds the process easier if they all have the same idea at the same time. 

He mentions their latest album, “The Battle at Garden’s Gate”, as one of the most interesting things they have done. In contrast to their first projects, “The Battle at Garden’s Gate” is fuller when it comes to lyrics and their instrumental power. When I tell him that opinion, Jake agrees, and says that, as he grew, he started noticing how much they could do with their music, without falling into rock stereotypes all the time. Lyrically, this album has interesting topics about war, the universe and the way humans interact with nature. 

Talking about their first projects as a band, Jake is satisfied with how much they grew, but still looks fondly at everything the band did when they were just teenage boys. The guitarist mentions their early days, when they still lived with their parents and would only play for small crowds, as some of the best years of his life. Jake loses himself telling funny stories about their first performances and the mistakes they made before they learned how the music business worked. 

After Jake ordered lunch and we ate together, I saw himself in his home studio, where he seemed to be working on a new song - not specifically one that would be released soon, he clarified. He was ready to talk about his early life and things that were not related to his music, but, even then, music had to involved somehow. I assume that is why he decided to create as we spoke, as if some of the things he talked about would bring him inspiration. He was playing one of his multiple acoustic guitars when we started our second interview of the day. 

Jake can’t remember when he first started to show interest in becoming a musician. He mentions the fact that his mother had probably spoken about it during other interviews, but he wanted his profile to be built by his own words. He does remember the fact that music is one of his earliest memories. Joined by his brother, Josh, they would sit and listen to their dad’s vinyl collection for hours. As soon as they were able to walk and talk, playing pretend and performing for their family became a current activity. His own father, Kelly Kiszka, is also a musician, and introduced instruments to the boys very early on. 

Other than music, he was interested in film and sports. Acting on his brother’s short films is another memory he carries with a lot of love. Josh used to write scripts for horror films - some of them worse than the others - and they would invite friends over to act with them. Their sister, Veronica, would also join them sometimes. All of the siblings are incredibly close in age, which is one of the reasons why they could be seen hanging out together quite often. 

As soon as Sam became old enough, he joined his other siblings and, later, joined the band as well. Jake considers himself as an overly protective brother. Whenever something happens to one of his siblings, it is not uncommon that he will blame himself for not being able to stop the situation and protect them with his life. I ask him if that also happens when people criticize his brothers for their music or talent, to which he replies with: “they know they’re good”. 

Jake recognizes how fortunate he is to have such a good relationship with his parents. He mentions that it is often an issue for artists, but it was not his case. Karen Kiszka, his mother, always knew her sons would become artists, by his record. He remembers how he wanted to make her proud by working hard at school and getting good grades, but it was never entirely possible. It surprises him that, even though he “wasn’t the brightest”, she would still tell him how proud she was of him and his siblings. Jake also shares that he believes none of what happened to the brothers would have happened without that support. They were teens making music at home, and Jake doesn’t know how all of the noise didn’t drive his mother insane. 

I ask him about his birthday. Jake has, obviously, always shared a birthday with his brother. That doesn’t seem to be an issue, as he talks about their celebrations with joy. Getting older seems to be a tough topic, and I don’t need to ask him why, as he talks about it before I even get a chance. Jake feels as if his years are shorter than anyone else’s. Touring has turned his months into days and the months he has for himself are resumed to one or two every year. Celebrating his birthday with his twin brother is often one of the only times he feels like himself again. For this year, they have decided to celebrate separately, and it seemed like a good decision at first, but he admits that he was feeling incredibly lonely. 

When asked about touring, Jake is more interested in talking about his relationship with the fans. I let him talk, without many direct questions. Jake is very grateful for the people that have listened to their music for more than a decade, and is also grateful for everyone who came after their sudden new wave of popularity. He saw as their crowds changed slowly, from family and friends to locals, from locals to unknown older people, from unknown older people to an younger audience. He says he knows instantly when a person recognizes him at a public place, and he finds it funny how, sometimes, they won’t say anything at all. 

“Most of the people just tell me they love me or the band and thank us for the music. Sometimes, they’ll ask me about the most specific things, and I’m not sure how to respond. Especially if we’re at a bar and I’ve had a few”, he laughs at his own comment, and I join him. When I ask him about any unfortunate situations, he refuses to comment, but lets me know that there have certainly been some. 

When he is done with that song for the day - a gorgeous fast paced song - he lets me know he bought cake for his birthday, and he wants me to eat with him. It is not often that I am invited to write a profile from inside the home of an artist, and Jake also tells me about how this was a first time experience for him. His relationship with music journalists doesn’t seem to be the best, although he appreciates their kindness and how well they treated him. If I could see inside his brain, I would say he finds us to be rather pretentious. I agree. 

We talk for two hours, without any journalistic intents, before he gets a phone call. He excuses himself before he opens the door. I, luckily, recognize the person who just joined us for the small party. The same set of kind eyes, the same eyebrows and the same nose. The brothers hug each other for more than a minute, and Josh seems to know who I am, or at least know what I’m doing at his brother’s house. 

He asks not to be interviewed, as if he had guessed what would come out of my mouth. Other than that, he sits and joins us, eating the rest of the cake. Jake doesn’t want to mention what was talked about, even though they were incredibly simple topics. Josh gives him a sweater, and Jake tells him he hates it. Jake gives him a book, without giving me a chance to look at the cover. 

I offer to do the dishes. They tell me I don’t need to do them, but I insist. Jake leaves with his brother and they sit on the living room as I wash all of our plates and glasses. He yells from the living room, trying to get his voice to be louder than the TV, and tells me he has to be the first person to write the profile when it’s done. I promise him I would make sure no one would read it. By the end of our day, I didn’t know what to write.

Jake Kiszka is a very simple man. A very simple brother and friend. A very complicated musician. His creativity is almost blinding, and it is easy to miss the exact second when he gets an idea that turns a good song into a masterpiece. Jake Kiszka sees himself as a lonely man, but has so much love for his friends and family that it would be hard mentioning every single person that has ever been loved by him. His house is as simple as he is, and he decided to welcome me and share his life, his birthday, and his cake. He treated me as a friend, and let me ask as many questions as I wanted to. 

As I prepare to tell them I’m leaving, I notice the TV volume is slightly lower. The twins are sat together, Jake sleeping on Josh’s shoulder. I wave goodbye as I leave, trying not to make too much noise. Jake is wearing his new sweater. 

By the time you are reading this, Jake Kiszka has already read it twice. He admits that he loves the sweater. 

[youregonnagofaar]

happy ending myth; a steve harrington story

chapter 5. just a little bit of tenderness 

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: best friend!eddie munson, close friend!max mayfield, slowburn!steve harrington

a/n: this took a long time to post despite me having it written and edited thanks to me getting a three week sinus infection. i’m going to start releasing these on mondays from now on and i’m still not sure how many chapters this will end up being. i changed my url and have made sure to edit all links so they work properly for everyone wanting to start from the beginning. thanks again for the support and as always i do enjoy feeback ha :) 

summary: steve and you have a conversation about the night of the halloween party, max and you hug it out, the gang visits the creel house, you witness that steve and nancy do still have a tiny spark, robin does her best (as always), you have your first injury, and robin witnesses flirting behind the wheeler window.

warnings: mild violence, curse words, anxiety, an injury near an eye takes place, pls let me know if i missed anything

word count: 6,315

tag list: @evansflowers

Steve held your hand tightly as the both of you braced the chilly air outside. The sudden rush of cold felt wonderful on your body but also made you aware of all the places you were sweating. In embarrassment, you let go of his hand and giggled. “I really wish Max had warned me about how none of us are able to shower when facing these monsters.” Steve looked at you with a grin and nodded his head in agreement. Despite going through this a few times he had never remembered to just bring deodorant with him. However, over the years his smell had gotten worse. Probably due to so many punches to the nose since this, all started. The sun was just about to rise and the grass had frost on the tips. If someone had told you in High School that King Steve would be holding your hand on a morning like this, you’d laugh in their face. 

“Oh, it's been worse than this. Last time it was summer and I had a decent amount of the kids in some random car. Robin and I had just been beaten up by some Russian spies who were pissed we ruined their plans. So it smelt awful for the first few moments until my nose went numb.” Steve hadn’t realized how much he was saying until he saw your face fill with worry. There was so much you didn’t know about their past endeavors despite him feeling like you had been here all along. He placed his hands in his pockets and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry if that was too much.” It still confused him at how easy it was to tell you anything. Even though you looked at him in shock you still weren’t calling him stupid for saying so much at once. The comfort you made him feel scared him to his core. 

“No, no it’s not too much. I just didn’t realize all the things you’d been through. I am now getting the Halloween costume…uhh Risky Business!” You smirked at him big cause you were excited your brain could remember such a small detail of life before The upside down. The joke was also kinda bad since this was clearly more than risky. Thinking of that night made his cheeks warm for all the wrong reasons, but then he saw the face you made and felt a whole other warmth. It then hit him that he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you at this party. He had eyes for only one person and drank far too much that night. What part of the night had you seen him? How many times had he already embarrassed himself in front of you? 

“Yeah, umm, what part of the night did you end up witnessing?” He was beyond nervous about your answer. Either way, it was probably a weird sight for you. He either only had eyes for Nance or was a total jerk in a terrible mood. 

You began to really think because for you the night wasn’t all that to remember. You left early because you were bored. Eddie had only shown up at the party to sell some drugs and then was ready to head out once the deals had been made. However, you did remember seeing a sad Steve getting a drink at some point in the night. He seemed upset but he looked so pretty and that made no sense to you at all. However, before you could even think of walking towards him, Tommy and Carol appeared. Not wanting to even hear her remarks about your costume you ended up leaving shortly after. “ I saw you getting a drink and looking like the saddest boy in the world.” You gave him a soft smile and shrugged. “Even if I had gotten the guts to walk up to you, it would’ve been horrible to do that in front of Carol.” You shook your head and made a noise of disgust, “She is one person I will never miss.” 

Steve let out a laugh that felt genuine and it scared him for a moment. “Well honestly, I’m glad you didn’t talk to me that night.” 

You took this moment to sit down and pat the frosted grass next to you. Steve took your cue and sat down, his shoulder touching yours, causing a warm tingle to rise in your spine. The whispers of Nancy breaking up with Steve for Johnathan were all around school after that night. It was no secret to all of Hawkins High that this was a huge blow to King Steve. The bruises and cuts on his face days after were further proof that something big had happened. Little did you know that he was fighting his own demons along with real monsters. 

“So umm, who did you dress up as that night?” Steve looked over at you with a smile wanting nothing more than to change the route of this conversation. That night no one understood your costume. Eddie had to cheer you up after he gave you a joint and finally cried about it. The night didn’t mean much to you the way it meant so much to Steve. 

“Oh, I dressed up as Ellen Ripley from Alien, but everyone thought I was just some mechanic.” You shrugged remembering the outfit that Mr. Munson had given you. It was from his old days as a mechanic and it worked perfectly. You had made your own name tag and everything, but the idea was lost on everyone there. 

“Dustin’s mentioned that movie a lot, but I haven’t been able to watch it.” Steve looked over at you and the way his eyes twinkled in the rising sunlight made your heart skip a beat. 

“Well, maybe one day I can show you the movie.” You weren’t sure if a time would ever come when the world would be calm enough to watch a film again, but the idea of showing Steve a favorite movie of your’s made you excited. You wanted so badly to curse your hormones but the way you felt around him covered you with a type of joy you couldn’t explain. 

“I’d really like that.” As he spoke the two of you just smiled a cheesy grin. A calm clouded your senses as the two of you looked into each other's eyes. Both of you were lost in the idea of how this date night would go. 

For Steve, you came out of nowhere. However, you had always known of Steve Harrington. No one who went to Hawkins didn’t know about King Steve. He was the typical pretty boy who was always going to be Prom King. You had found him to be good-looking, but the thing was, so did everyone else. He was all girls talked about and at one point in your teenage angst, you had found him absolutely annoying. The thing was, this wasn’t King Steve anymore. 

You were lost in thought until you heard the sliding glass door open from behind. Both of your bodies turned quickly as if there was something no one should see going on. The reaction caused Robin to stifle a laugh. 

“Hey, lovebirds! We gotta go! Nancy figured out that we need to go to the Creel house!” Robin's raspy voice filled the once-quiet air causing Steve and you to look at her with wide eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have drool on my face?” 

You and Steve looked at each other before rolling your eyes. “No, Robin there is no drool on your face.” You got up slowly and rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans with a smile. “I’m going to see if Max needs me at all.” 

Steve watched as you walked away his heart feeling different than before. Maybe it was the way you listened to how he spoke or how your eyes lit up when you brought up things you liked, he wasn’t sure but he knew he was in for it. Robin was giving him a look that he knew would lead to questions he had no answers for. 

“So…what did I just interrupt?” The smirk on her face made Steve roll his eyes and wince. 

“She wants to watch that movie Alien with me. If all of this ever ends.” His shoulders slouched forward as he attempted to walk back into the Wheeler house. 

“Wait a minute, Steve, talk to me, I can see how you look at her. I see the way she looks at you. Are you actually going to make some type of move?” Robin was frustrated watching Steve aimlessly flirt with you but then she saw the look he gave her from the question and sighed. “Okay, no moves need to be made, but could you at least fill your best pal in on what is happening here?”

“I like her Robin, a lot, but Nance.” He let out an annoyed sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Steve liked you more than he cared to admit, every time he spoke with you it felt like he was actually being heard. Yet, this was the first time in so long that he had Nancy smile at him again and that feeling sometimes overpowered all his senses. Even when he knew it wasn’t right because Nance had moved on. 

“Steve, you need to get over Nancy. She has moved on and you should too. Just like her, you are allowed to like someone else and I haven’t seen you look at someone like this before. Just do yourself a favor and try it out. Maybe Y/N is the right person for you to move on with.” Robin placed her hand on her best friend's back and smiled. “Can you just follow my advice for once in your life?” 

“Yeah, maybe I can.” He shrugged and looked at Robin with a soft smile before walking into the Wheeler household. His thoughts only on you and how badly he wanted all of this to work out. Before you, he would dream of Nancy as the mother of his children. They’d travel the world and he would raise them with love and care. Make sure that they knew they were loved and never leave them on their own for stupid business trips. But last night, he had that same dream but instead of Nance, it was you. You were in the passenger side of that big trailer as they traveled the world. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and placed it on his left eye, praying that his thoughts would settle for once. 

You had already made your way down to the basement, Max had been down there for a bit just trying to plan out the mission to the Creel house. When you caught her eye she gave you a weak smile, because she knew that there was so much to explain. “Do you have a minute? I just… umm…need to talk to you about all of this.” Max felt she had pushed you into this life by just accepting your friendship. Everything felt doomed when a being with mind control could alter the course of your life in an instant. 

“Steve told me some stuff about last year in the mall. I guess he got beat up by some Russian spies?” Despite being confused, you knew that everything would not be explained. A decent amount of this was still a mystery to even the people who were deeply involved. “Max, listen you don’t have to explain too much to me. I know all of this isn’t really something that has the right answers.” You paused trying your best to come up with the right thing to say. “All I care about is keeping you safe. So wherever you go I’ll be there, okay?” 

Max almost broke down at that moment, because you were asking for nothing in return. It made her so angry that she had let you into her life. She felt she knew the risks and still allowed you to get close despite the warnings of danger. No one else was around so she quickly hugged you tight, letting only a few tears fall. “Thank you.” Her words muffled as she tried to gain composure back. 

Soon Dustin and Lucas were yelling at the two of you to come back upstairs. Max backed away, you fixed her hair and sighed. This was her typical reaction when displaying public affection. To distract her from the threat of someone seeing her vulnerable, you spoke up, “So off to the Creel house?” The Creel house was an old abandoned home that held its own lore of why it looked that way. As a child, you heard some kids saying it was because the man who once owned it, killed his whole family. Now that you had more information, it appeared it wasn’t that clear-cut. 

“When Vecna had me, I got to some area that he didn’t want me to see. I couldn’t sleep last night so I started to draw what I could remember. Turns out, Nancy has seen the door before.” As Max spoke you tried your best to connect the dots. “Oh and after all of that, we have to bring Eddie some food. He must be starving.” She rolled her eyes when bringing up Eddie's hunger. That problem seemed so small compared to the one she was facing. Of course, you agreed but you still worried about Eddie. He was the only constant in your life and this had been the longest the two of you had been apart. 

Despite not understanding everything, you nodded your head and made your way upstairs. Everyone was ready to go as they rallied into the car. You ended up being seated with Dustin and Steve in the back, in an area where most people kept their luggage or an extra tire. The two boys let you in first and you did your best to take up a little room. Once everyone settled Nancy began to drive to the Creel House. Steve had decided to take the space next to you and Dustin was sitting right in front of you. You decided to place your legs against your chest, wanting to take up the least amount of room but also to control your breathing. As you tried your best to get comfortable you tried to connect what you could. Hawkins was built on some weird fault line for the supernatural. A young girl named El was the reason all of this happened but she appeared to have never meant this type of harm to anyone. Barb and Will seemed to be the first two victims but Will managed to survive. Each year something new would emerge and it was more hostile than the creature that came before. Somehow all of it was connected to the game Eddie loved to play, Dungeons and Dragons. Despite them telling you about it all days ago due to the violent events, it was hard to understand. 

“Dustin, you sit with Eddie at lunch right?” As you spoke Steve glanced over at you. Trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. Dustin nodded and you furrowed your brows. “Did you see him with Chrissy that day?” 

“Nope, I’ve never even seen those two interact before so it was weird to hear he was with her.” As Dustin spoke you began to pick at your cuticles. This was an anxious habit that you had never seemed to break. The uncertainty of it all would randomly rise in your chest, making it feel as if it was hard to breathe. You had two big fears in life which were: the unknown and ending up all alone. Somehow it seemed the Upside Down had both those fears intertwined. 

“He must’ve met with her in the woods after school. Vecna must’ve been really messing with her if she ended up needing drugs.” Steve watched your nervous hands after being caught up in the adorable wrinkles that formed on your forehead and realized that you would end up hurting yourself. He placed his hands over your’s and it caught you off guard for only a moment. Once you looked over and saw his warm eyes and soft smile your shoulders seemed to relax once more. A soft smile soon formed on your lips just from the comfort he brought. Dustin watched with confusion but he was also very intrigued. If anyone wanted Steve Harrington to move on, it was Dustin Henderson. The curly-haired boy watched his best friend pine over many people before. It had gotten worse since Steve got a job at Family Video. So to witness the man finally make moves was a sight to behold. 

Dustin cleared his throat and began to speak trying his best to get more information out of you. “Y/N, why haven’t I seen you at the D&D campaigns?” His tone was somewhat accusatory but you could tell from his smile that he meant no harm. A new type of smile covered your face before you looked back over to Dustin. Despite hearing Eddie and his friends talk about you, you had never shown up at a campaign. You knew what he was trying to do because it was clear that he and Steve were close. From what you heard about him from Eddie and the fact that he was close with Max, it was obvious he was trying to get as much information out of you as possible.

So you smiled at the question and shook your head no. “I suck at that game no matter how many times Eddie has tried his best to teach me. However, he has yet to read a Jane Austen novel so I guess we have always been even.” Eddie was told to read Emma just once and in return, you would attempt to join the game but he could never do it. Since it wasn’t for the lack of trying, you did let him explain the rules once but you couldn’t grasp it. 

Dustin let out a laugh as the image of Eddie reading Jane Austen came into his mind. He seemed like a really nice kid and you could tell why Eddie had grown attached to him. Due to your work schedule, you were never able to meet Dustin before. To meet him now under these circumstances made you feel uneasy. Soon, Nancy had reached the Creel House causing half of the group to get out of the car. Dustin unlatched the back and made his way to Max and Lucas’s side. You and Steve sat there for a bit longer looking at the house you were meant to enter. 

“So I’m guessing this is the least terrifying thing you’ve seen since getting into this mess?” Your voice was soft as you looked at the boarded windows. 

“Umm no, this is still just as terrifying to you as it is to me.” It was some cosmic curse how comfortable you felt next to him despite all the scary things happening. His fingers ran over your’s before he spoke again. “You ready?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Steve squeezed your hand before helping you out of the back. Max had her eye on the two of you as you both walked closer to each other before standing in front of the house with everyone else. 

“Yeah, that’s not creepy…” Steve spoke up and Robin gave him a knowing look before he made his way up to the door with Nancy. As they began to take the nails off the boards on the door he looked at Nancy. “What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” His tone was different than how it had been in the car. He sounded confused and annoyed about the situation. 

“We’re not sure. We just know this house is important to Venca.” Nancy was focusing on trying to get the boards off the door. Even though she looked tiny, she was strong. Your eyes would trail from Steve to Nancy watching as they worked together. 

Being the newest member of a group of people who had so much shared trauma was difficult. Everyone knew each other and the banter between them all seemed to flow naturally. It felt lonely, during these times you wished Eddie was around. You missed him and the way he was able to calm your nerves with his horrible jokes. You began to get lost in thought as the rest of the group was focused on getting into the Creel house. It wasn’t until you heard the loud thud of the boards that covered the door that you were sent back to reality. 

The door thudded onto the concrete, causing you to jump a bit. You watched Max as she looked at the single red rose stained into the glass. Her whole face had changed into something more serious. Steve was rattling the doorknob “It’s locked. Should I knock and see if anybody's home?” 

“No need.” Robin chimed as you all faced her. She was holding a brick in her hand. “I found a key.” She smirked before throwing it straight into the glass part of the door. The hole it created was big enough for Steve to reach in and grab the handle from the other side. As the door opened, you held your breath, unsure of what this house would look like after all those years abandoned. The group of you entered in a single file line. It was dark and dusty, typical for a house that hasn’t had a tenant in years but there was something bad about this house. You heard Lucas talk about the electricity but your mind was racing as you tried to understand why this place felt so awful. 

“Hey, guys…” Max was now in front of an old grandfather clock, her flashlight shining on the dirty glass. “You all see that right?”

Dustin and Steve answered her with a yeah, but Nancy looked at her. “Is this what you saw? In your visions?” Max only nodded her head yes in response and you got closer to her just in case. 

“I mean it's… just a clock, right?” said Robin as she began to get closer to the clock everyone was gathered around. Her hand wiped the dust off the glass. “Like a normal clock.” 

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve was confused and you could see his eyebrows furrow as he spoke. “Maybe he’s like a clockmaker or something?” 

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin was clearly being sarcastic causing Steve to give him a glare that made you smirk. 

“All I know is the answers are here… somewhere.” Nancy was sure of something and none of you could deny the feeling you all shared. Something happened in this house, something important. “Okay, everyone stay in groups. Robin, Y/N, upstairs.” As Robin saluted you nodded your head. You gave Steve a little wave before he let out a sigh that made Dustin roll his eyes. The two boys began to banter as the rest of you made your way to different areas of the house. 

As you looked around the creaky house, you felt a sudden rush of sadness. It looked like the whole family had just up and left. They didn’t even take family photos. You picked up one of the picture frames and it showed a once-happy family. Because of how you grew up, you knew what it was like to have your world shifted in one moment. Nancy and Robin had noticed you looking sad and made an effort to get your attention. 

“So, Y/N, do you still work at the bookshop in town?” Nancy’s voice caused you to break out of your sadness and smile softly at her. 

You placed the photo back where it was and turned around to face Nancy. “Yeah, I’ve been working there since graduation. I think I saw you there once, dropping off the school newspaper.” 

“Oh yeah, it’s normally…” Nancy’s voice trailed off as she began to think of her dead friend. The look on her face caused you to try and change the subject quickly. You couldn’t imagine losing the friends that Nancy had. First, it was Barb and now it was someone she sure didn’t spend a lot of free time with but they worked closely on the paper together.

“Umm… so what happened to this family? Did you get any information from that visit to Pennhurst?” The question broke Nancy out of her sad trance. If there was one thing you remembered about Nancy Wheeler it was her ability to always know more than anyone. Robin, Nancy and you were all walking up some stairs as she was about to explain Steve burst out in front of her with a look of distress covering his face. 

“Whoa, Woah! What’s wrong?” Nancy looked concerned as Steve started to dust himself off frantically. 

“There was a spider.” He was out of breath as he spoke. 

“What?” She looked both concerned and confused at the same time. Of course, there were spiders, this place had to be filled with them.

“It’s a black widow” He quickly ran to the handle and slammed the door shut. “Don’t go in there.” 

“Oh, oh. Wait just..” You watched as Nancy began to pick at Steve’s hair he was acting frantic about a possible spider in his hair. He kept moving forward and Nancy had to tell him to stop several times until he finally listened. You watched her take a web out of his now messy hair and his whole face lit up as she did so. The whole scene made you feel nauseous and Robin could tell.

“If there is a spider in there you won’t find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” As she spoke, she looked over at you trying to get you out of whatever mood you were now in. 

“What is wrong with you?!” Steve said his voice filled with annoyance and Robin’s only reply was a chuckle before grabbing your arm and leading you away from the scene. 

This left Steve to begin babbling to Nancy letting her know that Robin and he were just friends. Which made you feel even sicker because if he was telling Nancy these things, it meant he still loved her. You understood if he was, it just hurt that for a moment you had actually believed he could possibly like you. When Steve and Nancy began to date everyone talked about it. The two seemed to be the perfect couple, the brains and the beauty. 

“Platonic with a capital P!” Robin who was now several feet ahead of Nancy and Steve spoke up, giving you a little poke on your side to cheer you up the best she could. She wanted to punch Steve for being such a dingus when it came to Nancy but she knew he needed to really figure that out himself.

“Yep, thank you.” His voice had never waivered still full of the same annoyance he felt earlier. Nancy was still getting the rest of the dust and webs out of his hair.

You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation since Robin had done her best to pull you away from it. Robin could sense the uneasiness brewing inside you so she led you a little further away before finally speaking. “You know, Steve, he thinks he still loves her.” 

The words hit you with a pang in the chest. You turned to look at Nancy and Steve before looking back to Robin. “It looks like he’s pretty sure about it.”  There was no way you could get between that and maybe there was no need for you to even try. Sure, maybe he did like you but how were you sure that it wasn’t just all the excitement of meeting someone new? Yes, he made you feel comfortable but that didn’t mean it was going to be anything more than friends. 

“Well, Steve Harrington has always looked to be many things….and well a lot of it he isn’t.” Her words were soft and you could tell this was a more meaningful conversation. Robin was getting at something deeper but at the moment it didn’t quite make sense. There was far too much on your mind right now both Max and Eddie were in danger. 

“Those two have a history I can’t really compete with. Max, she’s in danger and Eddie is framed for murders. Plus I don’t want to get my hopes up.” The last words caught you and Robin by surprise. You did like Steve a lot but there was so much going on right now and if he did like Nancy maybe that’s just how this is meant to be. 

Robin was about to say something but then suddenly Max yelled from below. Since being on high alert with anything Max related, it didn’t take you long to run down the steps to where she was standing with Lucas. 

The sun had set now and all of you were now in the living room of the Creel house. The chandelier was turning on and off again as if it were a heartbeat. “It’s like the Christmas lights,” Nancy spoke and you realized there was another thing you had missed in this journey. 

“The Christmas lights?” Robin decided to ask the same question you had on your mind.

“Yeah, when Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Max was whispering and it caused you to feel uneasy. 

Lucas then spoke up.  “Vecna’s here…in this house. Just on the other side.” Soon the light stopped buzzing causing all of you to look around to see if anything else was glowing. 

“I think he just left the room.” Robin blurted out. The house was much darker now causing you to get closer to Steve who happened to be right next to you. It wasn’t that you were afraid of the dark, it was just this dark was something else. 

Max began to eye the room with a bit of fear. “Did he hear us?”

“Can he see us?” As Steve spoke, he got closer to you in fear of what was around him. It seemed you both felt the same way about being close. How it offered the both of you a type of solace that was hard to find anywhere else. 

“Headphones,” Lucas ordered looking over to Max. It didn’t take long for her to quickly place the headphones back on her ears and turn the volume up as best she could. 

Nancy looked like her brain was going into overdrive before finally speaking. “Wait, wait, everyone turn off your flashlights and spread out.” 

“We’re not going to be able to see if we turn off our flash… lights,” Steve muttered. “Jesus Christ.” You grabbed his hand quickly and squeeze it as if to say that you were there and it would be just fine. It caught him off guard and he was never able to settle into the feeling. 

“I got him!” Robin walked into another room that was close to the stairs. Her flashlight flashed the same way the chandelier had earlier.  “I had him!” 

Steve’s flashlight began to go off causing both of you to let go of each other's hands. However, you never left his side as you began to journey up the stairs. It wasn’t until he reached the landing that the light died back down. “Shit, I lost him”

“No, you didn’t,” Max chimed in, still able to hear everything despite Kate Bush blaring from her headphones.

Everyone was walking so closely that it was almost as if you had one mind. As everyone walked further up it became clear the source of this was in the attic. Robin was already cursing the idea of this because, of course, the creepy things happening had to be sourced from the attic. Dustin was soon muttering but curiosity took over every sense in your body. There had to be some key as to why this place showed up in Max’s trance. Even though it scared you deeply, it was far more important to keep Max safe.  The attic was dark and smelt of rotting wood, the only source of light was a giant window that made the house look menacing. This was a scene out of a horror movie and everyone had seen enough of them to know that the ending wasn’t going to be ideal. There was only one light fixture for the space and it began to turn on and off at the pace the other lights had done before. Everyone stood underneath it watching as it began to make a buzzing noise that grew louder over time. An uneasy feeling washed over you as the noise grew louder, you hadn’t been this scared since seeing Max levitating in the graveyard. Something was here but no one could see it, yet each one of you knew it was Vecna. Suddenly you heard a pop and the glass from the flashlight shattered into tiny pieces all around your face. Luckily, the sound caused you to pull your head back so you only had a few cuts on your cheeks. Max and Steve both looked at you with concern until it began to happen to the rest of the group. 

It became clear at that moment after the flashlights were broken and the light above burst that Vecna was drawing a lot of power. As everyone walked down the steps and back into the car you began to rub your flannel on your cheek. A few of the cuts stung and Steve kept telling you to keep your pressure on the cut so it would stop bleeding. Despite the group being tired each one of them noticed how he was so concerned about your well-being. In the back of the car, he took the time to check for any lingering glass that could infect the cuts. Dustin was his assistant nurse holding a flashlight up so Steve could get a good look. The way Steve was dotting on you would’ve normally caused you to be embarrassed but your body felt heavy and your mind was fuzzy. So instead you watched him in a daze as he cleaned and sanitized your wound. This reaction would’ve worried him years ago but he had suffered enough from this world to know that it left shock. The kids were too tired to enter the store so the older members except for you decided to go in real quick and grab some food for Eddie. Robin, Nancy, and Steve all insisted you stay in the car and watch over the kids.  By the time they had gotten back, the kids were fast asleep in the weirdest positions but you watched Max as she rested. 

On the ride back, everything in you began to process what had just happened. Steve kept looking at you trying his best to figure out what was going on in your head. Steve had no idea you saw the way his face lit up when he was with Nancy. He didn’t even notice his face had lit up that way in the first place. Yet, the way Robin was so sure about Steve not loving Nancy confused you. The main thing you were worried about wasn’t Steve Harrington, it was Max Mayfield. The summer the two of you met was so life-changing. For years, it felt that you were just doomed and it wasn’t possible for someone with so much damage to help anyone younger. Max had proved you wrong and you wanted to do everything in your power to keep that safe. The cuts seemed to become numb as time went on, it was possible that you just already gotten used to the pulsing pain. When Nancy finally made it back to her house everyone piled out of the car without saying a word. Except for Steve who had pulled you aside as the rest made their way to achieve some sleep. 

“Hey, are you okay? You seemed kinda lost in the car and, listen I get that feeling. This world involves a lot of shocks and you also just got some nasty cuts from that flashlight.” Steve had this habit of rambling even when comfortable. There were just too many thoughts going through his mind all at once and so little time to get them out. Taking a deep breath you looked at him, his face covered with genuine concern that made you understand how he got the title Mom from the kids. 

“Steve, I’m fine, just worried about Max. Thank you for cleaning me up in the car. Dustin and you really would make a fine pair of nurses.” As you spoke his eyes grew wide as if he was confused until it hit him and he let out a small laugh. Once he finally laughed, you giggled and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about me, I’m tough I promise” He knew that you could handle yourself, and yet he still felt the need to stand in the way of anything that could cause harm. Before heading inside, you placed your hand on his shoulder and gave him another warm smile. He watched as you walked into the Wheeler house and ran his fingers through his hair. A sigh of relief left his lips as he realized that Robin hadn’t been there to witness that interaction. Then he heard a loud bang on the window and saw Robin giving him a thumbs-up causing him to roll his eyes. 

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #139

Today passed by in kind of a blur. I thought I might try to sing today. I thought I might try to play Elden Ring today. Somehow, I managed to fail at getting around to either of these things.

But that's all right. Instead, I made a tea. Today, it was matcha with toasted rice, sweetened with honey and cream. Please give a warm hello and maybe some nice scritches to Mogwai as you peruse these:

Br visited today and that was very good. She was in a very depressed, anxious, and generally tumultuous state when she came. So we had a lot of hugs and conversation, and I tried to help her in whatever ways I could. At some point when her appetite returned a little, I went ahead and made her some rice with natto, eggs, and kimchi:

I made bowls for her, for J, and for myself. Br had never had duck eggs, and we had two left, so I prepared one duck egg and one chicken egg for her, so she could compare the two. And for J, he also got one duck egg and one chicken egg. I made myself two chicken eggs, and I made the yolks nice and runny, and they flavored the rice very nicely when I mixed everything up! Br seems to feel a little better now; my house tends to have that effect on people, I guess.

...This combination of ingredients makes for a very wholesome bowl of deliciousness. I really wish you were here so that I could have prepared a bowl for you. I'm sorry that these pictures and these words are the best I can do for you.

At some point, I fixed more of my writings in this space; I've added cuts up until my 90th letter to you. Tomorrow, I intend to fix up to number 120, and then I'll be almost caught up. I came across some really good ones as I trundled along with the fixing...

How to use box breathing to come out of a panic:

How to use singing as a coping skill to prevent flashbacks before they start:

A couple of letters detailing a realization I had, and calling you to do the work to re-wire your neurons:

A framework for challenging self-destructive beliefs, also known as REBT:

And a letter explaining all about what ACEs are and how they affect people:

...I can't believe I have written this many. I wonder how many I'll have written by the time you're safe and well again. I wonder if you'd still want me to write to you after that, if by some small miracle you're even able or willing to read these at all... Hm...

M was out getting his car inspected. But he ended up twisting and spraining his ankle in the parking lot when he was walking to his car on his way home. I can relate strongly to his pain; having Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and dyspraxia at the same time, I end up spraining my ankles often enough simply because I have no idea where my feet are and my cartilage is extra stretchy to the point that it can't really keep my bones together very well, so when I make mistakes with the walking, it's VERY easy for my foot to bend way too far, and then the surrounding muscles get super pissed.

As you might imagine, I've had to treat myself for this a lot, so when M told me what happened, I knew what to do; I wrapped a compression bandage around the affected ankle, gave him some ibuprofen to take down the swelling, elevated his leg, and gave him some ice to stick on it. He'll be okay in a week or two, and I'll keep an eye on it diligently, so no worries; he's in good hands, I promise!

I felt the need to be semi-attentive to the the folks in my house following this, so I did some writing while generally trying to keep alert to other people's needs. I'm hoping to either sing the song or play some Elden Ring tomorrow, or maybe both if I get lucky! I wonder if you'd watch me do these things, or even participate in doing these things, if you were here... I hope you would. It'd be fun, I think.

...I don't have much else for you today, so I guess I'll stop writing before I end up rambling, haha. As always, thanks for reading.

I love you. Please stay safe out there. I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[wordtowords]

New York and L.A.: Parallel Universes?

parallel universe - noun - a world conceived of as coexisting with and having certain similarities to the known world but different from it in some fundamental way (Google).

In the early 1980s, I knew New York well as I worked and lived in Manhattan. Obviously, over a period of roughly fifty years, it has grown into something other than what it was back then, something indefinable, at least to me. At present, I reside in Los Angeles, nearly 3,000 miles west. Even though I have been a resident for just a week, I can say that these American hubs are the same, only different...parallel universes in a sense. 

What are the similarities? For one, there is commonality of origin. Just about everyone I have met here so far either was born in the New York Metro area or arrived here relatively recently, cementing my theory that L.A. is just a suburb of New York, a grouping of cities tied together by freeways at the southern end of the continent, a continuum of vast, uneven topography. To exemplify this observation was a cashier at Target from Brooklyn who actually admitted that he missed the weather in New York; for some unfathomable reason, he was actually mourning the loss of snow shoveling. To which I replied, "The grass is always greener" or in his case, whiter (with snow). Yet only a native New Yorker would complain about the near perfect atmospheric conditions in L.A. Another similarity (other than the recent earthquake in the suburbs of New Jersey, which seemed to come as a gift direct from SoCal) would be the traffic. Most in New York would swear that the traffic is worse here; but for the most part, it is the same, the difference being that there is equivalent volume but fewer roads merging into each other, accounting for the jams. Yet if you migrate here fully prepared for the stop and go, go and stop on the 405 or the101, PCH, etc., it isn't irking at all, well, not terribly so anyway. It is just another test of patience. As for the cost of living, it is pretty much the same albeit the gas is more expensive here (and you will pay a lot for car registration) and the utilities, yet the apartments are cheaper (and much nicer as many come with pools and fitness centers at no extra charge). Some restaurants are not as expensive as New York eateries; however, car washes are twice the price albeit experts will wash your car by hand. Give or take, everything balances out. 

Conversely, there are a few noteworthy differences. One monumental dissimilarity would be in the disposition of the inhabitants. Perhaps due to the prevalence of sun, individuals here are kinder, more polite. And like the sun, they shine; their ebullience sparkles. While some envious New Yorkers condemn L.A. congeniality as "fake," it feels pretty real to me. Unlike most New Yorkers, liberal or conservative, people in L.A. seem to take the climate crisis a lot more seriously and work to curb it. For example, the garbage collectors here go through your trash with a fine-tooth comb. If there is something in the circular file that doesn't belong there, you receive a warning and a checklist of what you can or can't include in it. In addition, the DMV requires all gas cars, no matter how new, to go through a smog test for sixty dollars at places that look like they used to be gas stations. Although this has nothing to do with the environment– even though I have been driving for fifty-five years (I started when I was ten...don't ask)–I had to take a written driving test like I did when I was seventeen in Jersey. And it was hard being that it was on nearly one hundred pages of material. Apparently, some of the laws governing the roads here are outside of the norm. In terms of these polarities, balance doesn't come into play.

Parallel or not, the universes known as New York and L.A. will always have their arguable pros and cons. The truth of the matter is that both cities are magical enough to fall in love with at first sight. If you can't afford to live in either, at least you can visit. From what I know, there are about thirty flights going back and forth between the two cities daily. If you book in advance and don't mind flying steerage, you might pay below $300, which is pretty cheap, all things considered. Flights might even be a bit less to either depending upon where you call home in the U.S. Wouldn't it be nice to formulate your own tale of two cities? 

[denimbex1986]

'“All of Us Strangers” opens with the fittingly ethereal image of its protagonist staring out the window of his high-rise apartment, the London sunset’s orange glow illuminating his reflection, his somber expression suspended above the skyline.

Adam (Andrew Scott), a gay screenwriter in his 40s living alone on the outskirts of the city, still mourns the loss of his parents in a car accident decades earlier. He’s recently begun work on a script about them when a younger man, Harry (Paul Mescal), perhaps his only neighbor in the tower block, appears at his door, in a clumsy attempt at seduction that nevertheless leads to a relationship. As he navigates this unexpected romance, Adam starts taking the train out to a neighborhood in South London, where he visits his childhood home and finds, however impossibly, that his father (Jamie Bell) and mother (Claire Foy) still live there, neither having aged a day since their death.

A metaphysical romance, an excavation of memory, and a fantasy of grief, Andrew Haigh’s critically acclaimed drama (in theaters this week) is above all else a ghost story, about the specters of loneliness that life surrounds us with and the process of making peace with pasts that still haunt us. Written and directed by Haigh, of romantic dramas “Weekend” and “45 Years,” it’s a perceptive exploration of queer identity and estrangement, and an emotionally seismic account of familial love and loss.

“We are all going to lose people; either we’ve lost them already, or we’re losing them, or we’re going to lose them,” says Haigh, speaking to RogerEbert.com on the 35th floor of the Mandarin Oriental, during this year’s New York Film Festival. “It’s the inevitability of love. And the love that you feel for that person does not fade; it never goes away.”

“All of Us Strangers” is adapted from Taichi Yamada’s 1987 novel, “Strangers,” also a ghost story about loneliness and grief. It’s not your first adaptation, but you’ve described this as your most personal film to date, so I’m curious if you can talk about that writing process.

In the novel, there’s no gay relationship. It’s a different type of story. I knew I wanted this film to be about grief: about the trauma Adam experienced through losing his parents, but also about the trauma that a certain generation of gay men went through. Really, it’s a universal experience for gay men, regardless of age; just because time has moved on, and everything’s supposed to be good, it doesn’t mean we don’t go through the same things. I wanted to dig into how we feel separate, somehow, from our families, which is an awful feeling. So many things get left unsaid.

The conversations Adam has with his parents come from a personal place. I had a hard time at school, and the story Adam tells about that is my story. I put those experiences into the script. When you grow up queer, you feel love is an impossibility. Growing up, you feel you can’t love. I grew up in the ’80s, when that was especially true. “If I am gay, am I going to die? Will I ever find love? Will I be thrown out of my family?” That’s how you think. I wanted the film to offer a grand statement that you can be in love, that things are complicated but love is cosmically important.

Adam’s drawn to the house he grew up in, where his parents appear to still be living; you filmed those scenes in your own childhood home. How long had it been since you’d been back there?

I’m 50, and I lived there until I was about six or seven years old. It had been nearly 45 years. The place you first live gets so imprinted. When I was writing the script and thinking about a childhood home, I pictured my own. I thought, “I’m going to have to film there. It makes no sense not to, because I can’t get that house out of my mind.” Even though you were a kid, you remember everything. You remember the feel of the carpet. You remember what the wood was like, what the fireplace was like.

When I went to the house, and its new owners allowed us to film there, we redecorated it to look the way it used to look when I lived there, as much as I could remember. I wanted the film to feel like a memory, and for Adam as a character to go back into some liminal space of memory. And I wanted to go through what my lead character was going through. I wanted to delve into my own past at the same time he was delving into his.

All your films explore, to some extent, emotions reflected through time, but “All of Us Strangers” directly engages with queer temporality, that idea that queer people experience time differently, in opposition to heteronormative standards, due to marginalization or historical events like the AIDS crisis, which disrupted so many queer people’s expectations for how their lives would progress.

We’re untethered from time as queer people. We don’t see ourselves in the history everyone else has. We don’t follow their traditional path. We’re all strangely stunted. We end up being teenagers for longer, because we weren’t allowed to have a traditional teenage life, to feel certain things and have certain ambitions. I wanted to throw the notion of time up in the air. I feel strongly that you can be dragged backward and forward through time so easily. Go onto the dance floor, listen to a song, and you can be back to where you were 10 years ago. You can feel what you felt 30 years ago.

There’s a time travel to feeling certain emotions, to smelling certain smells. The way memory works, and how powerfully it can take us back, was something I wanted to play with, so you lose all sense of existing in a present. It’s the same with how the film ends; there’s no sense of it being a linear progression of time. I was excited and nervous about that. All my other films have been very secure in their timescales. I wanted to go off-piste and do something else.

Tell me about capturing Adam’s movements through time and how you approached the film’s point of view, staying in the headspace of this character who’s stepping outside of reality.

I found it difficult, not just going into myself emotionally but also trying to make that structure work. I’ve also reached a state where I don’t think it matters if people understand what’s real and what’s not. Films obviously aren’t real; they’re constructs. The whole film, in the end, feels like my subconscious telling the story I want to tell. That means you can go backward and forward in time. Things that aren’t real can feel as real as dreams. I was worried it wouldn’t work, that people wouldn’t buy it, that the conceit of the parents wouldn’t work. In the end, I loved that fear. How that made me feel is exciting.

In the scenes he shares with Jamie Bell and Claire Foy, Andrew Scott’s performance is especially strong. He moves between an innocent joy at their presence and this more mature desire to have conversations with them he never had the chance to. How did you direct the three of them, and Andrew especially, to create a family dynamic that feels both strange and comforting?

Andrew does an incredible job of seeming younger, slipping back to being a child again, without being childlike. It’s all over his face. He looks younger, more innocent, more vulnerable. I didn’t want Jamie and Claire to talk to him like he was a child, but they still needed to be his parents. They judged it beautifully. Suddenly, they’re more like parents. Then, they’re treating him more like an equal. That’s what happens whenever you’re with your parents as an adult; it oscillates between you being adults, and then you needing them as a parent and them needing you as a child.

Adam’s also able to articulate the pain in those relationships. The totality of their emotions toward each other come out in these conversations. I’m thinking of the scene where Adam says that he still can’t cross his legs without remembering his father calling that behavior feminine.

For a lot of queer people, the relationship that Andrew’s character has with his father is so facund that it’s overwhelming. When I was working on it, I found it overwhelming. It’s such a powerful need that we have, for love and understanding. Jamie just completely nails that complicated balance of understanding and not understanding his son, loving his son fundamentally but also not knowing how to deal with him.

And perhaps understanding him more than he’s willing to admit. When Adam first encounters this stranger and follows him home, before we know it’s his father, you tease the idea they’re cruising each other, and Adam’s conversations about sexuality with his father are tinged with mutual regret.

I love the idea that there’s some strange sexuality to their dynamic. Everybody always expects, if you’re straight, that you might end up with someone who’s like your mother, and nobody thinks that gay men might end up with someone who’s like their father. Suddenly, people get freaked out by that, but of course that’s a possibility. Why wouldn’t that be the case?

The relationship Adam has with Harry relates to this. Harry’s of a younger generation, but navigating that age gap helps Adam reconcile himself with the younger man he might have been, under different circumstances. How did you approach writing that dynamic?

With care, basically. There’s so much going on between that relationship. There are almost ghostly elements that give it a strange magic, which is the truth of all relationships. There’s strange magic to why they exist, how they exist, how they develop over time. In the end, it was a long edit, as we were constantly trying to guide how emotions emerge. You’re drawn delicately through. It wasn’t easy. These things never are. But within the relationships, whether with the parents or with Harry, we realized love is about feeling comforted and understood. That’s what you want from a parent, in a relationship with a partner, and from your relationship with yourself.

One scene that comes to mind is when Adam tells Harry that his parents died, but that it’s okay because it was “a long time ago,” and Harry gently reminds him that “a long time ago” doesn’t really matter when you’re talking about the worst things that have happened to you.

The moments you realize your relationship is working with someone are when they get something so profound about you that you just want to keep hidden. They pull on that thread, they don’t judge it, and they’re soft and kind with that understanding. That’s the moment when you feel you can love this person, because they have compassion for you and you have compassion for them.

In “All of Us Strangers,” emotions are expressed through music. I’m thinking of “Always on My Mind,” by the Pet Shop Boys, as Adam decorates the Christmas tree with his parents, and “The Power of Love,” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, which is of intimate importance to Adam and functions as code, between Adam and Harry, from their first encounter at his front door. It’s the perfect song, the one Adam needs to hear, and it’s what Harry alludes to in that moment.

Because that song is about protection and comfort. I bought that LP, [“Welcome to the Pleasuredome,”] in 1984. I was 12, not realizing my sexuality fully, and I’d play that song over and over, in my bedroom. I would sing it, endlessly. It did something to me when I was 12. As I was writing the script, I knew what the song had to be. The same went for the Pet Shop Boys and other bands that had been a part of my growth. Pop songs can say the things we can’t express. There’s a reason queer people have been dancing in nightclubs and discos for all eternity, together, listening to music. It gives them hope.

Blur’s “Death of a Party” is another standout selection once Adam and Harry go out dancing and take ketamine.

In that section, when they’ve arrived at the club, I wanted all ideas of time to vanish. We realize there’s no linear time scale, and there’s that question of whether any of this is real. “What’s real? What’s not real? What’s a drug trip? What’s a memory of how he used to go out clubbing in the ’90s?” There are so many different things I wanted that scene to become.

We shot those scenes at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, a gay club in South London where I spent every Saturday night through the entirety of the late ’90s. It’s a historic monument now, so they can’t tear it down. I was revisiting that club, where I hadn’t been for 10 years. It was strange being back there. I thought, “My twenties and early thirties are still in this club. I met friends I still know in this club. I hooked up with lots of people in this club.” Those types of spaces are so important to queer people, and there’s not so many of them. We’re torn between them being euphoric and painful, which that sequence becomes. We know what it’s like; the scene can be both liberation and torture. It can be terrifying, and it can screw you up just as much as it can embolden you.

One visual element that unifies your work is reflectivity, achieved through lighting and production design, that gives characters a certain spectral quality and draws attention to the way that we exist in relation to our surroundings. Tell me about that.

I’ve always been so interested in reflectivity. So many of my films have people looking in mirrors. I feel like we’re constantly catching sight of versions of ourselves, and they feel different to who we are inside. Perhaps there’s something queer in that; our external reflection to the world is not how we feel inside. I find that conflict fascinating. You see projections of yourself—who you want to be, who you’re trying to be—and you only can find contentment when they match who you are. It’s hard to make them match.

Especially in this film, I wanted this strange sense of magic, unease, tension, and beauty. Me and Jamie [Ramsay,] the director of photography, talked a lot about how to achieve that. What I’ve done visually before is pushed forward in this film. I’ve always used zoom lenses, long fades, and shallow focus. It’s more subjective than some of my other films, and I wanted to feel loneliness in a phenomenological way, to understand that through texture, sound, and music.

That mirroring is also clear to the characters. “It’s like seeing you both at exactly the same time,” Adam’s mother says, seeing Adam and noting he resembles his father. Adam sees himself in his parents, as well.

We get pulled apart as we get older. It can be traumatic unless you try to realize, “I can deal with this, somehow.” But you have to get those building blocks, to think about where you fell apart and understand it was nobody’s fault. I wanted to make sure there were no villains in the film. These parents are complicated. They love their kid. They wish they could have been there for their kid. But life is chaotic and unfair. You lose people before you want to. There’s tragedy. How can you get through that and keep finding ways to love?

At times, Harry similarly feels like a reflection of Adam, in how much he shows Adam about this self he’s perhaps terrified he has inside—or is perhaps terrified he’s lost.

I did feel that Harry is a reflection of what Adam needs. I mean, if Adam has conjured up his parents, he’s also conjured up Harry. Or they’ve all conjured each other up. There’s two ways I always saw it: Adam has conjured up everybody, or all of them have conjured up themselves from the ether to deal with their loss. All of them want the same things, and they’re all teaching each other the same kind of compassion. I wanted it to be almost like a love letter to say, “Life’s tough for everybody, whether you’re a parent or a queer kid, but there is a way that you can get through that and soften that pain.” I wanted to be sincere about that, to be subtle but also convey what the film is about.

I understand why reviewers have described the film as emotionally devastating, but I found it more hopeful than heartbreaking, the way everything falls into place.

I also find it hopeful! It’s been weird. It’s strange to me. The importance of that ending is that, once you’ve found love, you can find it again. Love remains. I don’t find that devastating. I’m always intrigued about who does and who doesn’t, because I think it says a lot about the life they’ve had. At a certain time, queer people lost their partners very, very young. And they really did lose them, and it was horrendous. Their love was important during that time, and they have gone on to love again. That was always on my mind.

And there’s this strange thing about it. A lot of young people—and I say this from experience—should be happy being queer now. We live in a different world. But it’s still complicated, and tragedy still happens. I love the idea of “the power of queer joy,” but you have to look underneath, or it all falls apart. We have so much we’ve carried around with us, from people before us. We know what it felt like for us growing up, what it felt like for other people before us. That history is still present.'

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/a-passage-to-america/

A Passage To America

In my mid-forties, one of my duties as the head of a local teachers union was to attend a national convention in Florida.   My mother, in her sixties at the time, and, always eager to travel, suggested we take this opportunity to make a cross-country motor trip together. Though different in many ways, the pair of us were amiable traveling companions, preferring by-ways to highways, so I agreed. The journey had its challenges. Our rental car suffered a flat tire along a seldom traveled country road;  a sudden storm forced us to take lodgings in a place that might have passed for the Bates Motel; and one afternoon, we found our road-weary selves seated in a  restaurant that served cold biscuits and omelets crisp enough to break apart with our fingers.   The time was somewhere in the 1970s, a period when an AAA trip tik served as automotive navigation. Not only did the thick pamphlet contain maps of our route but it provided information about lodging and places to eat along the way.  Having served us well on the outward-bound leg of our journey, we were confident when the time came for the return trip. Even so, somewhere in Florida, I took a wrong turn and found myself in an area where billboard messages were written in Spanish. My mother could read them, being born in Costa Rica, but I could not. Afraid I’d speak English with an accent if I were bi-lingual, my father refused to allow me to learn my mother’s native language.  So, on the day she and I were lost, I relied upon her translations to find my way.  Unfortunately, these directions always came after the fact, making them useless. “You should have turned right two blocks ago.”  Eventually, I pulled the car to the side of the road in front of an eatery that was ablaze with light. Perhaps a waiter could guide me.       Trip tik in hand, I entered the premises to the sound of a bell jangling above the transom. Though not much larger than a thimble, it made a piercing sound, like a kettle on the boil, so I was not surprised when the restaurant’s patrons looked up from their plates with startled expressions.  Not wanting to remain the center of attention, I hurried toward the cashier standing behind a counter. A man somewhere in his early fifties with a crown of black hair and a girth to suggest he never said no to a tamale stared at me with the same expression as his customers. When I pointed to my map and asked for the way to the road north, his eyes became more vacant.  Repeating my question failed to garner a response other than to cause him to scratch his head.  Either he was deaf or did not speak English. Rather than guess, I turned to two men seated at a nearby table.  Did they know how to reach the northbound freeway? Like the cashier, they answered me with silence, their expressions suggesting that if I wanted conversation, I should try the morgue. “Wake up and come with me,” I said as I rapped on the car window behind which my mother was snoozing.  “No one inside speaks English.” A cat-like grin stretched across her face which I found annoying but she was quick to follow my steps to the restaurant.  The bell overhead rang a second time, and as if a spotlight had flared on center stage, my mother came to life.  I don’t know what she said to her audience, but after some well-chosen words, the diner filled with laughter. The young men I’d spoken to earlier scrapped back their chairs in response and came toward us.  Their heads almost touched as they studied my trip tik, joined by the cashier who seemed eager to add to their consultation. They murmured to one another for some time, though I was unable to understand their conversation. Eventually, the cashier lifted his head to address me and then used his pen to trace a route on my map for me to follow. “The freeway’s not far.  Maybe five minutes. You can’t miss it,” he said. His English was flawless.  After a cursory, “Thank you,” I stormed from the restaurant. “What was that about?” I snapped to my mother as if she were to blame for what had occurred.“Why did they treat me like I was foreign?” I turned the key to the car’s engine hard enough to make a grinding noise which seemed to amuse my mother. “Pay no attention, Petunia. They’re Cubans. Not like the rest of us Latins.”  I tell this story because if the goal of our county is to embrace inclusion, people of all social and ethnic cultures have to make an effort. That steamy day in Florida, when I was made to feel like a stranger opened a wound. Particularly when the prejudice came from a segment of society that I least expected.  The child of an immigrant, I understand why ethnic enclaves exist. People build barriers when they fear rejection or want to feel safe. But,  Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling and walling out.* Solid fences can become prisons where the landscape offers a dreary sameness. Take food for example. Who wants a steady diet of biscuits and gravy when they could add pizzas? Or curries?  Or Gveltifisch? Well, maybe not Gveltifisch. But Baklava, yes!  As a writer, I appreciate the foreign terms that enrich our language.  Hopefully, English may one day become as varied as that of the  Inuits. They have dozens of words for snow. Why should English struggle with less? Ezra Pound peppered his poetry with foreign terms. English, he decided, was too spare.  I agree. Sometimes I’m tempted to invent onomatopoeic words to express my meaning the way Lewis Carroll did in Jabberwocky. A blend of different cultures also helps expand our horizons. Getting Lost to Find Home cites several East […]

[magicinaframe-part2]

Have You Dreamed, Recently?

Bloggers, here, at Tumblr, will agree when I say that this society -- the U. S. -- is filled with many stressful jobs.

From the time I started working in New York City, in June of 1979, to the end of 2010, I worked in a number of stressful jobs. Two, immediately, come to mind. I worked as a messenger for a number of years and I worked as a secretary in a child welfare agency; also, for a number of years.

In both cases, I do not remember whether or not I ever dreamed about these jobs, while I was employed. In my spare time, I did think about both of them, but I do not remember dreaming about either one.

And...because I don't remember whether I dreamed about the job while I was employed, then it follows that I did not dream about them. If I had such a dream, I would have written down as many details as I could remember. That is to say, if a dream -- any dream -- is so impressive that I wake up, I try to write down as many details as I can. I've been doing that for many years, starting in the 1990s.

I bring up the subject because the movie that I watched recently -- a movie listed at the Internet Movie Database with a running time of 85 minutes -- is, in my humble opinion, a visualization of a dream of the main character.

And what does the main character in this movie do for work? She's a freelance news reporter who lives and works in Rome, Italy. Sometimes, she writes for a newspaper and, sometimes, she works for a TV channel.

Is that a recipe for a busy life? Is that a recipe for a stressful life?

It's a recipe for a good movie script, with the main character either a man or a woman. The idea for this movie that I've watched originated with a man and, then, two women and one man worked on the script.

I have to add that a news reporter, working in Rome, throughout the 1970s, would undoubtedly have been dealing with a stressful job. Perhaps the scriptwriters knew news reporters working in Italy's best known city?

This movie that I'm thinking of is a European co-production. It takes place in Rome, with Italian language dialog. It's a movie that did not get theatrical distribution, in the U. S.

And it's another example of a movie that should be thoroughly researched...

A student protest is in progress, in the daytime, outside the entrance gate of a Church-affiliated college in Rome. Students, in formation, are quick-stepping and chanting "Worker power," over and over. A police car drives past the formation. In the car's backseat, a Commissioner and a detective make an on-the-spot appraisal of the situation and the car, then, moves past the demonstrators and out of view.

As the protest continues, a beautiful- looking woman, older than the students, stylishly dressed, is introduced, talking to people on the street -- people who are much older than the students. She asks the people what they think about the demonstration. She uses a tape recorder with an over-the-shoulder strap and tells several of the passers-by that her questions are for television.

This character -- the first character formally introduced in this movie -- is named Barbara. Her family name is never mentioned in the dialog, nor anything specific about her past life. The scenes play out, one after the other, with no reference to past events in Barbara's life, until late in the plot, in dialog with another important character, when she decides that she and her new boyfriend should leave Rome (She mentions two locations she enjoyed travelling to, when she was younger.).

In a matter of minutes, once the movie gets going, a perceptive viewer might start noticing some unusual details, as scene after scene takes place. For one thing, Barbara is in the habit of thinking to herself, wherever she is -- whether she's covering a news story, or she's at home, or she's arriving at a police station -- and she often has a conversation in her mind with her mother, whose voice is heard on the soundtrack.

Other characters are introduced who also have on-going conversations with themselves, with family members, with lovers, in their mind.

As the demonstration makes its way through the entrance gate onto the grounds of the College, a group of young adult males are introduced. They are behaving oddly, as if they're observing the demonstration and planning to do something. One of the group, suddenly, for no apparent reason, picks a fight with another young adult male in the group, gets hit in the head, and collapses to the ground.

Barbara sees this and tries to revive the young adult male, thinking to herself as she does so, but the young adult male quickly comes to, springs to his feet, and proceeds to play cat and mouse with the reporter -- who becomes more and more uneasy, as she tries to back away from the young adult male. As she backs away, the others in the group join in the cat and mouse game.

One of this group, in particular, moves about in a threatening manner. His physical appearance, his facial features, the clothes he wears, all combine in a way that is deliberately intimidating.

In short order, the group forces Barbara to give up the keys to her car. The car is, then, moved from its parking spot and its engine is set on fire.

The group, now, with an added young adult female, dances off into the distance. They're triumphant about what they did.

The group, then, enlists another young adult male, named Michele (pronounced 'mee-KAY-leh'), to assassinate someone that they will designate and to also befriend Barbara.

When Michele shows up the following morning, hanging around Barbara's unusual-looking, modernistic home, her anxiety from the events of the previous day intensifies, and the remainder of the plot becomes a steady progression, ending in tragedy.

On a large movie theater screen, the dream-like images and situations would be unforgettable. The impact is less on a laptop screen or on my 29-inch flatscreen television.

The name of the movie is THE PACIFIST. The movie debuted in theaters in Italy, late in December of 1970. If any of what I have written sounds interesting, THE PACIFIST is available on DVD, with English subtitles. THE PACIFIST can also be viewed, with English subtitles, at You Tube, where it is shown with commercials.

-- Drew Simels

[visionofhope04]

Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

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