#i will say good things of paris only once in my life and this is it

[goodobservationshirley]

[sailoryuns]

INAMORATA ─── PSH

genre. idol!sunghoon x model!f!reader | established relationship

warnings. angst, fluff (moreso towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hoon being lowkey toxic, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread wc -> 1.5k

ps. the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to sunghoon was like conversing with the wall, never fully grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with jake or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

sunghoon felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere y/n, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hoon, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious y/n? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” sunghoon couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you sunghoon. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” sunghoon angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

sunghoon’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed core “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, sunghoon!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your sloppy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hoon-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, sunghoon loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. sunghoon knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a string of curses leaves your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. sunghoon slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and stomach.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing sunghoon’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe this is all mine.” sunghoon whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much, baby.”

“love you too hoon.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

[yamumsyadadd]

the shadow of alexia

At 4 years old my entire life changed. One day my dad was at home and the next he wasn’t. Things changed after that. Everyone was sad, lots of people visited too. Sometimes I got new toys when they came over. 

Alba was a scary teenager but Alexia. Alexia was my best friend and I was hers. She would take me to kindergarten and pick me up, she never missed a soccer game or ballet recital, she was always there. So was her special friend Jenni. Jenni was great, when I was little she used to let me colour in her tattoos, Everytime she got a new one, she’s get me new pens to colour on her. 

As time went on, Alba and Alexia started moving out. Alexia moved in with Jenni and started getting busy with football, Alba still lived with Mami but was busy with her friends and modelling. Mami did the best she could. She was getting older and more tired, she didn’t miss a game or my last ballet recital, she didn’t miss the disappointment in my eyes when Alexia or Alba didn’t turn up. They were busy, I understand. 

It went from seeing them a couple times a week, to once a week, to once a month. I learnt pretty quickly the only way to get Alexia’s attention was to either play football or to fuck up. Lucky for me I was good at both. School was boring, it was too easy, I understood it all faster than anyone else. The first time I skipped school, I was 14. No one noticed and no one cared. From there on out it became a routine. At least once a week I’d skip school and hang out with the others. 

I personally never did anything too rowdy, just tagged along to enjoy the vibes. The first time I got caught skipping school was by Virginia. She promised me she wouldn’t tell Alexia or Mami and she kept that promise. The next time was by Alba, she lost her shit. Yelling at me about how irresponsible I was being and how much trouble I would get in. The second last time I got caught was by Jenni, I hadn’t seen her in a while, I was mad at her because of that so when she tried to give me a lecture I yelled at her.

“Y/n, you can’t be doing this shit. If Alexia found out she would lose it at you! What would happen if the police got you? What would you do then?”

“Why do you care Jenni? Huh? You left, you haven’t been around. You fucked off to Paris and didn’t even say goodbye. Tell Alexia, I don’t care, at least then she would talk to me.”

“Y/n, did Ale not talk to you about this?” Her voice was incredibly soft. That was something I missed about her, the way she spoke, the softness that was hidden from most people. 

“She doesn’t talk to me at all. She doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

“Bebeita, we broke up. Thats why I left. we ended things and to be able to heal I had to leave. I am so sorry, she promised she would talk to you about it. I wanted to say goodbye to you myself but Alexia said it would be a bad idea.”

From there things spiralled. I didn’t want to talk to Alexia, I didn’t want to see her. I stopped going to her games with Mami, I would sneak out when I knew she was coming over. No longer did I look up to her, I hated her. I wanted nothing to do with her. 

The day I quit football, I felt free. No longer having to play to get my oldest sisters attention, I didn’t care for that anymore. I had more time to hang out with my friends, to be a normal fucking teenager. 

It took a week, it was quicker then I thought to be honest, but once Alexia found out, all hell broke loose. 

“Where the hell is she!” Alexia stormed through the house. Surprising Eli. 

“Who Alexia?” 

“The Idiota. Your mija?” Alexia huffed. Eli was surprised by the way Alexia was acting. 

“In her room with her friend.”  Before Eli could say anything else, Alexia was off. Swinging open the door and disturbing the peace between you and your girlfriend.

“You, get out.” 

“No Alexia. You don’t get to tell her to get out.” I got defensive fast. There’s no way she gets to come here and tell her she needs to leave. 

“GET OUT NOW!” Alexia’s ‘captain’ voice was something that always got people moving. 

“You don’t get to come here and act like you run the place. News flash alexia, you don’t fucking live here!” 

“¡Dios mío! What is happening! Why did Isabella leave crying?” Mami looked pissed. More so at alexia than me. 

“Alexia kicked her out. For no reason other than the fact that no one else is allowed to be happy but her.” 

“Tell her what you did!” When I was younger, the look she was giving me would’ve scared me, but now it did nothing. 

“I didn’t do anything alexia. Whatever your minions are telling you isn’t true. But hey, you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” I tried to push past her, but she grabbed my wrist stopping me from moving. 

“Mami she quit football. She fucking quit. After everything I’ve done for her she throws it back in my face!” Rolling her eyes and scoffing at me. 

“Let her go now. I am aware she quit Alexia. She was only doing it for you.” Mami was mad, very mad. Alexia had come and disturbed the peace, making Isabella cry and screaming the house down. 

“Grab me like that again I’ll drop you on your ass. I don’t give a fuck that you are la Reina.” The words came out like venom. 

Everything is always about Alexia. I joined football to get close to her, I didn’t mean to get as far as I did, I honestly didn’t think I’d get past the academy. Being called up into the Barca B squad was cool. I enjoy the fitness side of it but genuinely couldn’t care less about actually playing. 

The same day I quit, was the same day I got called up for the senior team. It sent me into a bit of a spiral. Mapi found me in the corner of the physios room with my sketchbook, crying. 

“Oh nena! What’s wrong? Do you want me to get Ale?” 

“No! Not ale! Don’t tell her please!”

“Okay no Ale but can you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” 

“I got asked to join the senior team and I don’t want to. I only started playing so Alexia would be nice to me and talk to me. I don’t even like this stupid game! I just want to draw but that’ll never be good enough for her.”  

After that, Mapi and I would get coffee in the mornings, I would show her my new drawings and tell her my ideas. She paid me to draw a photo of her and Ingrid. I knew she could draw herself but it was nice to have her in my corner.  Mapi was talking more about to me Alexia, saying how good my drawings were and how much happier I seemed not having to play, she seemed to miss the confusion written all over Alexia’s face. 

 •———————————————————————•

Mami had a trip coming up, I knew about this, but what I didn’t know what she was going to make me stay with alexia. Isabella and I came home after the movies to find Mami, Alexia, Alba and some other chick sitting at the table. I mumbled a quick hello before trying to drag Isabella upstairs. 

“Don’t be so rude. Actually say hello.” Alexia spoke angrily. 

Scoffing I turned around “bite me Alexia.” 

“¡Dios mío! Isabella Mi vida, it’s time for you to go home. You can wait upstairs for your Mami.” 

“Mami no. That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to come in here and start bossing everyone around!” 

“It’s okay amor, I should go home anyway. We have that biology exam anyway.” 

“Now that your little friend is gone, sit down.” 

“No.” 

“SIT DOWN.” 

“Ale, Cálmate.” The mysterious brunette says as she places her arm on alexia’s. 

Fuck all this shit honestly. Turning as fast as I could I ran upstairs, knowing Alexia would follow quickly. I was right. I was barely able to push my dresser against the door before she tried to open it. I was not going to sit at that table and play happy families. 

After an hour of listening to Alexia curse, she finally gave up. It was peaceful until Alba climbed through my bedroom window. 

“Still got it.” 

“Alba what the hell!” 

“Hermana, I don’t know what happened between you and Ale, but if it’s the same thing that happened between me and you then you need to talk to her. She’s worried about you and scared. She doesn’t want to lose you.” 

“She only cares now that she thinks her precious imagine is going to get hurt.” 

“If you talk to her now, while Olga is here, it’ll be easier. She calms Alexia down and makes her think more rationally.” 

“Who the fuck is Olga?” Was that the mysterious brunette in the dining room?

“What do you mean? She’s alexia’s girlfriend? You’ve met her before?” 

“No I haven’t. I didn’t know she had a girlfriend.” 

“Yes you met her a dinner a few months ago? She comes to Ales games and on Fridays when we have dinner!”

“I wasn’t invited to that dinner, I don’t go to Alexia’s games and I certainly don’t go to Friday dinners!” The angry tears started. Alexia was my hero, my bestfriend, the person I wanted to be and now I’ve been pushed aside. I know nothing about her and she equally knows nothing about me. 

Alba pulled me in tight, letting me cry on her. It was weird doing it with her, she used to be the reason I cried and not the one to comfort me. But here we are, things change I guess. 

“Mami really needs to talk with you so we need to go downstairs.” Begrudgingly I let alba pull me down the stairs. It was obvious to everyone that I had been crying, mami’s face softening when she saw me, Alexia’s face frowning in confusion. 

“You wanted to talk so please do it quickly. I want to go to bed.” I tried to speak as respectfully as I could to Mami, it wasn’t her fault. 

“Mija, I’ll be away for a month, you know this si?” I nodded my head before she continued, “you’re too young to stay here for a month alone so you’re going to stay with Alexia and Olga. You can still see your friends and will go to school, but they will look after you.” 

“Mami no! I can look after myself!” 

“You’re 16 chica. You’re not an adult like you think you are.” Alexia scoffed from the other side of the table. 

“So what? You’re shipping me off to stay with Alexia, who won’t even been there half the time and a stranger? That’s safer? Some person that I’ve never met and sure as shit don’t trust!” 

“Stop being such a Perra! You have met Olga, plenty of times! She comes to all the games she can, and to dinners all the time.” 

“Ale stop” Alba knew what was coming and tried to stop it but it was too late. 

“Dios mío, your head is so far up your own arse isn’t it? I haven’t been to a single game in over 8 months, I don’t get invited to you stupid little Friday night dinners and I have never met your girlfriend! Up until an hour ago I didn’t even know you had a fucking girlfriend Alexia. Everything is always about you. You and your stupid football or your stupid knee. I bet you right now you couldn’t tell me anything about what I’ve done in the last year, can you?” 

“I know you quit football because you’re being a brat.” 

Her answer honestly made me chuckle “Okay Alexia, anything else?” 

Silence. She couldn’t tell you a single thing. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought. You know nothing about me and that’s how it’s going to stay. I dont trust you, I don’t like you and I sure as shit don’t love you. You’re not my Hermana.” With hot tears falling down my face, I stormed back upstairs. I text Isabella asking if I could stay over and once she replied with a yes, I was gone. Out the window like Alba had come in an hour earlier. I texted Mami to let her know, I wasn’t that horrible to make her worry. 

“Mami, you can’t let her talk to people like that! She’s incredibly disrespectful!” 

Alba rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Are you serious? That girl used to hang off you. She looked up to you. It was always you alexia and now she wants nothing to do with you. You don’t invite her places, you don’t care about her. I noticed ages ago she was pulling away and I fixed it. Did you know she has a girlfriend? Or that she’s taking senior classes because she’s the smartest there? Or the fact that people are paying her to make them art or buying the pieces she already has. She quit football because she hates it. She hates it because of you. You ruined it for her. Mami, I will stay here with her while you’re gone. It’ll be better that way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drop her off at Isabella’s.” 

“No! It’s a school night! She cannot be going out!” It seems everything that was just said to Alexia, went in one ear and out the other. 

“Alexia stop it now. She is allowed to stay at her girlfriend’s house, she has an exam at 1pm. Maybe you need to listen to what people are saying to you. I am going to bed, I suggest you all do the same, at your own houses.” 

“Why does no one listen to me!” Alexia was annoyed, overwhelmed and tired. It had drained a lot of her energy being here tonight. 

“Ale, I’m going to say this one time, you need to listen to what everyone has told you tonight, really listen, because you aren’t. You need to fix things with her but you need to sort your shit out first.” Olga had stayed silent most of the night, listening to everything that was said knowing her girlfriend wouldn’t. You were right, you had never met each other. What Olga didn’t realise was that it was Alexia’s fault, not yours. She put it down to being a moody teenager who was too cool to hang out with her sisters, oh how wrong she was. 

•———————————————————————•

Two days before Mami was meant to go away, Alba rang saying she couldn’t stay over. She had gotten a modelling gig in Madrid and needed to go, that left Alexia and Olga. It would be the longest month of my life. Mami promised nothing would change just because I was staying here, she was wrong. Alexia was a bitch. 

The first few days were fine, alexia would drop me off at school and I’d make my way home after, I generally spend it was Isabella because Alexia wouldn’t let her come over. We go into the city centre, get coffee and do our homework then catch the bus home. We did this even when Mami was here so it wasn’t anything new but when Alexia found out she hit the roof. 

“You cannot be going into the city by yourself! Are you thick in the head?” 

“Jesus Christ alexia! I’m not alone. Isabella is with me. Mami lets me do it so I’m going to keep doing it.” 

“Is Isabella the reason you’re skipping school too?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I scoffed, storming off the guest bedroom and slamming the door so hard it made Olga jump. 

By the third day of me being there, Alexia had turned up to pick me up herself. I tried to completely ignore her but Isabella had other ideas. 

“Your sister is death staring me right now.” 

“No amor, not you but me. Oh fuck here we go, she’s coming over here.” 

“Get in the car y/n.”

“No. I told you yesterday that I’m allowed to do this. You’re not the boss of me.” 

“Bebeita, it’s fine. I’ve got chores to do for papa anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed my cheek and then walked away, leaving me no choice but to get in Alexia’s car. 

The car ride was hell. Alexia was pissed, her hands constantly gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckle turned white. Neither of us spoke. To be honest, I didn’t know where we were going until we turned up at the training ground. 

“Why are we here?” 

“We have training. Get out.” 

“No alexia. I quit. What part of that don’t you understand.” 

“Get out now, or I will drag you out.” 

Knowing she would literally drag me out, I had to wait it out. She’d turn her back eventually and I could leg it. I’m faster than her and more willing to jump fences. 

The time came sooner than I thought, after entering the change rooms, she threw a set of clothes into my chest and walked off to the bathrooms. This was my chance and I wasn’t going to waste it. 

Throwing the clothes into her cubby, I legged it out the door. Running past Mapi, Ingrid and Ona who all had confused looked on their faces. As soon as I got out, I kept running, knowing i had to get a head start. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, I knew I couldn’t go back to Alexia’s, Olga would be there. I couldn’t go home because that’s the first place she’d go, I couldn’t go to Albas because she drag me back by my ear. There was only one place to go. 

Can Cuyás Golf Culb was the best place to hide. Sure someone might see me, but it’s easy enough to pretend to be lost. 

The first thing Alexia noticed when she came out was the lack of you. Then the clothes she had given you, thrown back into her cubby. 

“Have you seen y/n?” She asked as she turned to the girls in the locker room. 

“She ran past us like 5 minutes ago?” Ona spoke up. 

“Did she say anything?” 

“No she was in a bit of a hurry Ale.” Mapi rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“Fuck sake.” Alexia exited the locker room, walking through the facility to try and find you. Slight panic kicked in when she wasn’t able too. Deciding to call Alba first, knowing you’d been closer to her the past few months. 

“Hola Ale, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

“Have you seen y/n?” 

“No why? What happened?” Panic arising in Alba. 

“I picked her up from school and bought her to training. Gave her clothes to change into and I went to the toilet and came back and she was gone. She fucking ran off.” 

“Why the hell would you try and make her train Alexia! She quit. She doesn’t want to play anymore!” Alba quickly became anger with the oldest Putellas. 

“She is too good to throw it all away! She’s being a stupid child about all of this!” Quickly becoming defensive, not enjoying the way Alba is talking to her. 

“You’re unbelievable. I haven’t seen her, I will try and find her. Don’t you worry, put your football above her like you always do.” 

“Alba-“ she hung up before alexia could get another word in. There was one person left that Alexia had to call. 

“Hola amor, why aren’t you training?” Olga’s sweet voice sounded through the phone. 

“I’ve lost y/n. Can you please let me know if she comes home and if she does then don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“What do you mean you’ve lost her Ale?” 

“I bought her to training and she ran away while I was in the bathroom.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Alexia already knew by the silence on the other end that Olga was trying to not yell at her. 

“Alexia-“

“No I know okay. I already got an ear full from Alba. I have to go but I’ll call you later okay. I love you.” Slowly it started to creep in the fact that she had fucked up and caused you to run away. Training dragged on for Alexia, hoping that you had been found or made contact with Alba or even Olga. 

Meanwhile, after hiding at the golf course for an hour, i decided to head to Isabella’s house. Knocking on the door, Isabella answered, still buttoning up her shirt. Eyes wide when she realised I was at her door. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She closed the door slightly, so I could no longer see into the loungeroom. 

“I ran away from Alexia. I was hoping we could hang out like normal?” 

“Now’s not really a good time. I have someone here.” Isabella spoke quietly, not wanting to allude to the fact that the person inside wasn’t just a friend. 

“Baby come back, we weren’t finished.” A guys voice yelled out. 

“It’s not what you think y/n!” 

“I think that guy wants your attention. I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re half dressed. Enjoy your time with him, we are done.” Tears welling in my eyes. 

“I’m sorry y/n!” 

“Go fuck your self Isabella.” sadness turned into anger real quick. 

Isabella was my first girlfriend, my first kiss, the first person I had sex with and she goes and fucks a guy? While we are together? This is literally the last thing I wanted to deal with. 

Unsure on what to do, or who to call I found my way to the beach. My throat and eyes hurt from crying so much. The pain in my chest was getting worse. Pulling out my phone, ignoring all the messages and calls, I rang the one person who would calm me. 

“Hey Calabaza? What’s up?” Jenni’s voice rang through my ears. Unable to form a coherent sentence, only sobs coming out of my mouth. 

“Hold on Bebé” I could hear her moving around, the voices of her teammates getting quieter, “talk to me. What happened?”

“I ran away. I ran away from Alexia and I went to Isabella’s house and she-she was cheating on me. With a guy. A fucking dude. She broke my heart Jenni. It hurts so much.” 

“Oh babé. Where is Ale now? Where are you?” 

“I don’t know. She’s probably at training. I’m at the beach where Papa used to take us. She’s going to be so mad at me.”

“Can you tell me why you ran away from her?” The way Jenni spoke so sweetly was something I missed dearly. 

“She got me from school and took me to the training grounds. She was trying to make me train but when she went to the bathroom I ran away. I don’t want to train, I don’t want to play. I hate the game and I hate her. She doesn’t listen or care about me!” I could feel myself getting upset again. 

“Okay okay, just breathe. You’re okay. I’m not going to tell her where you are but I need to tell someone. Albs has messaged me and so has Olga. You can pick who I tell.” 

Pondering the options, Alba would tell Alexia but she’d also be just as angry and upset. Olga would tell Alexia but she’d be calmer and softer, that was what I needed at this moment. 

“Olga. But tell her not to bring Alexia.” 

“Okay bebé.” After a few moments she spoke up again, “she’s on the way. She promised no Alexia. Do you want to stay on the line with me until she comes?” 

“Yes please. Can you tell me about Mexico?” Sniffling and wiping my face, I got up, walking towards the road to wait for Olga. After 25 minutes, Olga pulled up. A sad smile and worry on her face, she put an arm around me. 

“Is Olga there now?” Jenni asked. 

“Yeah she is. Uh thanks Jenni. Sorry for disturbing you.” Embarrassed about haven taken her time. 

“No bebé, you don’t need to thank me or apologise. We are hermanas no matter what okay. You call me tomorrow when you’re feeling better. I love you.” with that she hung up. Reality slowing sinking it. 

“Let’s get you home yeah? Are you hungry?” Olga smiled sadly at me. 

“No thanks. Just tired.” I mumbled out. 

The drive back to Alexia’s was quiet. When we pulled up, Alexia’s car wasn’t there, meaning she wasn’t home. That was good. Very good. 

“She’s at Albas house. I told her you had messaged me but that I didn’t know where you were yet. It’s a small lie, but I’m sure it’s worth it.” 

“Alexia hates lying.” I said lowly. Thinking back to all those times as a small girl that she yelled at me for lying. 

“I know Pequeño. Do you want to tell me what happened today?” 

“Everyday Isabella and I go into the city and have coffee and do our homework, but today Alexia came to school and got me. She drove us to the training grounds and said I had to train. But I-i quit. I don’t want to play anymore, I don’t enjoy it and only did it for Alexia but it was never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for her.” Olga grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze for me to continue. 

“I went to Isabella’s house and she had someone there. A guy, a guy that she was fucking. She was cheating on me for god knows how long. I thought everything was good with us. She was my first girlfriend and my first kiss. I lost my fucking virginity to her and she goes and fucks someone else? It just hurts. So much. Everything is hurting so much.” 

“Oh pequeño. Come here.” Olga held me tight, my tears slowly soaking her shirt. 

“Why doesn’t she love me like she loves Alba? I don’t understand.” 

“Alexia?”

“Mhm. Nothing I do is good enough. I just want her to care about me more. Why can’t she?” It broke Olga’s heart hearing me say that. She didn’t know what was happening but she knew Alexia needed to fix it and fast. 

After slowly showering, I thanked Olga and excused myself to bed. I didn’t think I had any tears left to cry but after crying for a while, I managed to pass out. 

 •———————————————————————•

After you went to your room, Olga texted Alexia, telling her she was here and safe. Alba and Alexia both rushed back to her home. Angry and worried at you, ready to both give you an ear full. 

“Where is she Olga?” Alexia came in loudly. 

“Keep your voice down. Both of you.” Olga was very firm. 

“No she’s in trouble. She doesn’t get off lightly, we have been so worried about her.” Alexia sooke back angrily, usually she’d listen to her girlfriend but this had sent her into a rage. 

“Really Ale? You’ve been worried? So worried you couldn’t train right? That you spent all night calling her friends or going to her favourite spots to try and find her?” Olga had had enough. 

“Amor that’s not fair.” 

“No you know what’s not fair? The fact that neither of you have been listening to her. She doesn’t want to play, she did it for you Ale. She wanted to make you proud of her. She hated playing but you wouldn’t know that. She loves to draw, and she’s really really good at it. She showed me all her work.” 

Olga walked to the couch, extremely disappointed with the two women standing in front of her. 

“Her girlfriend cheated on her. She found out this afternoon. She rang Jenni and Jenni messaged me. That’s how I found her. She was at the beach, heartbroken. Then when we got home, she asked why you didn’t love her Ale. She thinks you don’t care about her. That girl may have broke her heart tonight, but you broke her heart first Alexia. You’ll need to live with the fact that you were her first heartbreak.” Olga was exhausted. Neither Alexia Or Alba said anything. Both sitting in opposite ends of the lounge room, tears silently falling. 

Olga excused herself to bed, leaving the older two in the lounge room to mull on their thoughts. She promised herself after your heartbreaking confession that she would have your back through this. Whatever tomorrow held, you would face it together. 

[formulakracing]

a weekend in buffalo — d.r.

pairing -> fem!driver reader x daniel ricciardo

word count -> smau

warnings -> none really, just some gossip accounts, some softness, and photos of a couple making out, internet hate/slut shaming, cursing

a/n -> life has been overwhelming but the idea of gg with daniel makes me want to write. for now my brain came up with this. i hope y’all like it <3

liked by f1fangirl, f1daily, alex_albon, and 73,029 others!

f1teaspill it appears that daniel ricciardo has been spotted out and about in buffalo. but this time, he has company…. ☕️

user9229 guys are we sure this is real

f1teaspill these photos were sent to me through dms by fans. i cannot confirm nor deny the validity of the photos. i only share what is shared with me! ☺️

redbull4ever so what you’re saying is that there may be a chance these pics are fake…

mercgirly420 MIND YOU IT HAS ONLY BEEN A FEW MONTHS SINCE SHE BROKE TOTO’S HEART‼️

williamsstan girl we don’t know the full story about that so let’s be mindful of criticizing someone for moving on…

mercgirly420 girl stfu we all know this girl is a slut and only used toto to gain an advantage at a better team. she basically said that herself at the press conference at cota. that’s probably when she and daniel started to [more]

williamsstan respectfully, i’m not reading all of that 🤍

goldengirlforever we don’t even know if that’s our golden girl so you need to shut the fuck up 🤍

f1fan03939 HELLO⁉️ ALEX LIKED THE POST⁉️

user820 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE⁉️

f1stan636 uhhhh … is that… golden girl?

mercfan67 i think so. the height, hair color, stature, all match.

user45 guys i'm going to the game this weekend. i'll keep an eye out for gg and daniel! 🫡

f1fangirl2003 this is going to be an insane weekend for the daniel and gg truthers if this proves to be true

dannyfantom i am going to lose my shit (in the best way possible) if it's true!

user2004 these pics are so grainy tho.. we can't really be sure it's her!

user1999 ew what a slut. can't believe she emotionally cheated on toto.

user2001 ugh he deserves better than that home-wrecking whore 🤢

goldengirl posted to her story!

danielricciardo just posted!

liked by maxverstappen1, goldengirl.jpg, joshallenqb, and 932,002 others!

danielricciardo another great weekend in buffalo

view 2,204 comments

joshallenqb who is that beautiful man wearing the hard hat? 😩

danielricciardo your bf

maxverstappen1 it's nice to see you enjoying yourself in the states mate! 😆

danielricciardo thank you! ☺️ i can't wait to see you at cota!

dannyricstan how do i like this post more than once?

user1998 wow i love paris this time of year

f1fan19972 daniel pls tell me you're not dating that slut from the states...

user45 screaming crying throwing up how is a man so beautiful

f1girly is this gg's burner cause...

yukitsunoda0511 i see this post made it to the wrong side of instagram 🙃

oscarpiastri what a man!

danielricciardo nah that's you sugar 😘

f1fan2023 why are you and gg both in buffalo?

f1user2005 yeah let's talk about that!

f1user05 praying that the rumors aren't true 😔

danielricciardo i fear that you have more important things to worry about

dannyric09 ummm so what's going on?

f1teapage no one knows atp

goldengirl.jpg just posted!

liked by danielricciardo, alex_albon, maxverstappen1, and 15,037 others!

goldengirl.jpg alexa, play this is the life by two door cinema club

danielricciardo slowly but surely indoctrinating you as a bills fan

goldengirl.jpg josh allen is a pretty cool guy!

maxverstappen1 nice to see you two enjoyed the weekend! 😄

alex_albon i say we get tix to a raiders game when we’re in vegas 🙂‍↕️

goldengirl.jpg brb running to check their schedule

goldengirl.jpg as long as we can invite my daniel i will be happy to go

goldengirlstan HELLO⁉️ “my daniel”

user7273 ISTHISAHARDLAUNCHICANT

gg939 GOLDEN GIRL X DANIEL TRUTHERS RISE UP‼️

lilymhe ugh stop it you look soooo good in the red + blue combo

lilymhe brb searching up how to be as gorgeous as golden girl

lilymhe also can't wait for the debrief. lmk when you're back home plssssss

landonorris love u both

landonorris mom n dad

goldengirl.jpg ugh love u son <3

oscarpiastri honorary parents

f1user2006 WHY IS NO ONE POSTING ABOUT THIS‼️

f1fan2004 YEAH I AM WONDERING THE SAME THING

mercedesfan2005 ew

georgefan2003 this is atrocious. you break toto's heart and now you're prancing around with this washed guy? unbelievable.

ggstan is this toto wolff's burner?

franscisca.cgomes AHH CUTIES!

lewishamilton so refreshing to see you on my feed again. missed you! 🤍 (p.s. great song choice)

carlossainz55 such a beautiful couple! 😀

alex_albon okkkk facebook mom!

jallen96 love you both! go bills!

hailee.jpg ugh imy already sweet girl

goldengirl.jpg ugh imy more. maybe i'll come down one weekend for girls night

danielricciardo my beautiful girl, everyone

f1teaspill is this a confirmation? check your dms!

f1gossip pleeeeaaasseee check your dm!

f1teadaily we need the tea girl!

[luvfy0dor]

“I Still See it All ♡⁠˖” Chuuya Nakahara x Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings; drinking, angst, death, may seem ooc, reader is (was) fighting Fyodor with the ada, I only proofread the first 2 paragraphs and I pumped this out in about 57 minutes so it might not be the best lmao

description; The memories of yourself and Chuuya were almost palpable in your mind as your torso leaked thick, crimson blood. It felt as though you could reach out and grab his hand again, kiss him again- feel him again. You watched the cloudy and hazy scenes in 3rd person, as if you were an onlooking spectator on the sweet moments between the two of you as your life slipped through your fingers.

a/n: hey guys I'm sad cuz I got too scared to rizz the huzz at my last swim meet of the school year so now y'all gotta be sad with me LMAO

You were still in a state of shock as Fyodors blade ripped back through your torso just as quickly as it moved when it impaled you. Your brows knitted together as you watched the blood seep through your shirt, your lips dropping down into a scared frown when two and two finally clicked. You were still high on adrenaline, but aware of what was happening. Your body felt stiff and it was hard to move on your own- every thing was slowing down and becoming shaky and foggy as your eyes welled up with tears. The balance that had once been stable and distributed in your body was now gone, and you couldn't stop yourself from falling backwards onto the hard ground. You hit your head and winced, slowly closing and opening your eyes, blinking back your tears and redirecting them from the center of your waterline to stream down the sides of your cheeks. The more your tears fell, the clearer you could see. A couple feet infront of you, you could see Fyodors tall, slender, form approaching with a cynical grin plastered on his thin, pale lips. You could tell they were moving, but you couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. You shut your eyes once again and tried to take a deep breath. The longer he hovered over your bleeding body, the colder you felt. His frame blocked the sun from hitting your face and allowing you to feel that natural warmth, but once he finally got out of the way and walked in the opposite direction, it felt even better than before.

It brought you back. All of a sudden, you were under the same sun, dancing on the bricks of public walkways with Chuuya in Paris. He held your waist and one of your hands, a smile on his face as the two of you spun and stepped together. The summer heat made the both of you sweat, but it didn't stop you from having a good time. You didn't even recall how you ended up there, but you didn't have the energy to try and remember. You could only remember the memories with him, the sound of his voice and laughter- him in general. After dancing until your feet were tired, you both stumbled into the grassy patches next to the street, your laughter never stopping. "Chuuya, where'd you learn to dance?* You asked, your speech a bit slowed from your earlier alcohol consumption. Chuuya was the same way, if not worse. "Mmm, I dunno babe- think I was just born with the natural talent." As he said this, his nose scrunched up and he spoke with his lips turned upward into a smug, proud grin. You giggled and playfully slapped his shoulder. "You should join talent shows as a side hustle." You slur, resting your head on his shoulder and gazing up at the Eiffel tower. "Maybe, but only if you're my salsa partner." You huffed. "I could never." Your eyelids grew heavier with each moment you say idly. If you didn't want to sleep, you'd have to move. "Mm, Chuuya, let's go see the river!" You say, standing up and pulling him along with you. He stumbled to his feet and follows you down the street, under the Eiffel tower to the railings that overlooked the water. "Do you think there's fish?" You asked, looking over to Chuuya with wide eyes. He huffs in disbelief. "Ofcourse there's fish, dumb dumb." You rolled your eyes and shrugged. "Well I dunno...I'm not an expert in...fishology..." You murmured, folding your arms over the railing and leaning against it. "I can tell."

The two of you occupied yourselves with conversation for God knows how long, and it was some of the most enjoyable time you'd spent in a while. You were so immersed in the subjects and the only time your thoughts drifted elsewhere was when you couldn't help but think about how happy you were to have met him and got to have this experience. You were both so into talking that you didn't even notice the change in the clouds until you felt the rain droplets splash against your head and nose. Over the time, the both of you had come closer to full sobriety. "We better get back to the hotel." He said with a sigh, adjusting his hat. "Yeah, good idea- in not really looking to get soaked." You huff, grabbing chuuyas hand as you started walking back. It wasn't a very far walk, but the rain was coming in quick, so you had to make it fast. The quicker the rain started to downpour, the faster your speed walking got, which ultimately backfired because you soon slipped and fell on the bricks. "Woah, are you alright?" Chuuya asked, bending over to make sure you were good, a hand on your shoulder. You stared at him for a moment before nodding and giggling. "Yeah, I'm alright, thanks babe." He offered his hand to help you up and you gladly took it, using the opportunity to pull him into a quick peck on the lips. "Aw man, im pretty wet anyways now." You groaned when you pulled away, but started to accept it because it was really all you could do. "Yeah, you gotta be more careful next time." He says. "Wouldn't want you to break a tailbone or nothin'."

Hah. If only he could see the position you were in now. Your memories cut out like radio static when you hear Atsushi scream out your name. You couldn't have been on the ground that long, but memories of Chuuya made you feel like you could live another lifetime with him before the blood loss could kill you. "Atsushi..." Your whisper of his name was like a phantom on your lips, slowly disappearing into the atmosphere without reaching anyone's ears. Your eyes slowly closed. Your heart was beating in your ears and your head was pounding. Your midsection was burning and sore and you couldn't tell if your next breath would be your last or not. You tried to lift your head from the ground, but in the moment it felt like one of the most physically taxing things you could do. Your vision started to blur again, and all the noise muffled. The beating in your ears was already slow enough, and with each passing second it just became slower. "This is it," you thought. "This is how I die. And I can't do a damn thing about it." The idea made you internally panic, but it took too much energy to show it on your face or act on that feeling of fear. "Chuuya?" You whimpered out, calling for your boyfriend, only for it to fall upon deaf ears. Your lips drew into a tight line and you whimpered, your tears falling even faster now. Ever since you met him, you wanted to die with him by your side, looking down at you with love as you went and passed over into the afterlife, but now all you had to stare at was a bright blue, slightly cloudy sky. "It kind of looks like his eye color." You thought, before exhaling quietly and closing your eyes, one last time.

A/n: yk that one song our last summer from mamma mia? Yeah that's this. Again I'm sorry if it's kinda cheeks the only thing I've been writing lately are school essays and responses, but I had a conversation with Eli before I wrote it out discussing how I kinda wanted it to go and originally this was gonna be a fyodor x reader fic but I changed my mind

[nonbinarylocalcryptid]

This is how I think Astyanax would know react to being told what happened at Troy.

Context: Odysseus and Astyanax are trapped in Calypso's island. Unfortunetely, Zeus is bored, so he sends a message (maybe a letter? Maybe he just sends Hermes and call it a day?) to fuck things up a bit and mess with Odysseus. It works wonders. Nine years old Astyanax reacts poorly.

Here's what happens when Odysseus finds him after receiving the message.

The sun was about to set, filling the silence with the sound of the waves hitting the beach. Only Odysseus had the audacity to talk.

"My son..."

That wasn't welcome, not anymore.

"Am I?" Asked the boy. He was trembling, but not from the breeze. "Your son?"

For once, Calypso didn't try to insert herself in the conversation, even the chatty goddess was speechless.

"I always wondered, why we don't look alike at all? I was adopted, I knew, but I thought I was your nephew, even a cousin".

"Son..."

Odysseus was interrupted

"How can you call me that? My family, my whole country... it's gone, and it's your fault".

The man took a short breath.

"I'm not going to ask for forgiveness..."

"Good", Astyanax was done, "because there's no forgiving you. Tell me everything that happened, tell me about what went down that night".

He stared at the older man while he shook his head.

"Astyanax, save yourself that pain, the endless pain of the war shouldn't be a child's warden".

"But it is!" Bursted out the kid. "You decided to spare me on a whim!"

"That's not what happened."

"Then what?" A desperate question. "Am I a warprize?"

"Don't call yourself that." It was soft spoken, like a prayer.

Astyanax was no god.

"What am I supposed to think?"

Trying to descalate the situation, Calypso spoke.

"Maybe what your father is trying to say..."

Any other day, the goddess' inside was welcome, as she was Astyanax's friend. Today he was having none of it.

"SHUT UP NOBODY ASKED YOU-"

"HEY", Odysseus stopped him, "don't yell at her. You want to know what happened? Put your emotions aside, and sit with me by the fire".

They did so, and Odysseus told him. About the Trojan war, about ten years of slow killing, about the ressiliance of Troy. He told him about Achilles and Patroclus, about Paris and Helen.

He told the story of the wooden horse.

About longing to go home.

Diomedes led the charge. Agamemnon flanked the guards. Menelaus let the men through the gates. They took the whole city at large. Teucer will shot every ambush attack. And Little Ajax stayed back. Nestor secured Helen and protected her. Neo, avenged his father, killing the brothers of Hector.

About a mission, to kill someone's son, someone who wouldn't run, someone who could only be dealt with right there and then. About a baby in a cradle. About Zeus' prophecy. About him.

About someone who was just a man.

Troy fell.

The Ithacan fleet sailed, hoping to reach home.

They never did.

When he was done remembering the past, he looked at the boy, who was sitting at the other side of the flame, hands covering his face.

It took a long time for Astyanax to even look at him, let alone spoke up, but he finally did it.

"I don't know what to say." He confessed, bathed in the fire's light. "I hate you, I do, I'm so full of rage right now...but I love you, and I hate you so much. You should have killed me when you had the chance, why didn't you?"

The answer came easyly to Odysseus's lips.

"Mercy". He dared to say, the blasphemy of it haunting them, with only the fire and the waves as witnesses. "You haven't done anything, you were a child who had only known love. What was the point?"

"Zeus told you to do it. One should not defy the gods".

A dark laugh came from Odysseus, startling the kid

"That's all we have ever done since we met." Odysseus spoke the truth, and Astyanax hated him for it. "A god ordered a child's death. Where's my free will? Your right to a peaceful life? They're supposed to protect us...and look where we are now because of them."

Astyanax looked at him, right in the eyes, before saying his part.

"I hate you."

Odysseus sighed, tired, defeated.

"I know." Resigned.

"I have one more question."

Just one question? Odysseus would have give him anything he asked for. A question he could do.

"Go ahead."

Like a dreadful night, so many years ago, he thought he was ready. He wasn't ready.

"Do you even love me?"

Tears came to his eyes when the boy asked that question. How many times can a heart break until there's nothing left?

"How couldn't I? To love my children it's the easiest thing I've ever done."

Whatever was the veredict, he would take it, he owed Astyanax that much.

And then Astyanax got up. There was no emotions in his voice when he talked

"You are without doubt, a cruel man, Odysseus of Ithaca."

He walked away, letting a crying man behind.

[doloresdisparue]

Since I've had some clown in my mentions claiming Nabokovs intent was to present Dolores as equally culpable echoing the good old "but what about her TEEN SEDUCTRESS powers to CONTROL MEN" let's collect some of what Vladimir "Strong Opinions" Nabokov said about the book and Dolly in particular:

"Some simply haven’t read the book or don’t understand it. It is not obscene; it has none of the dirt of many so-called realistic modern novels. “Most critics have failed to stress the pathetic side,” said Mrs. Nabokov. “It’s really a tragic story. Here, in the hands of this maniac is this poor girl—.” “And a very ordinary girl—” Nabokov put in…." (What Hath Lolita Wrought? Ithaca Author Distressed by Some Reactions,” Elmira Telegram, Dec. 14, 1958. )

"In Lolita, who’s the most likable person for you? It’s Lolita. It’s with her that the good reader should become friends. American readers, generally, talk of her as an unbearable kid, but you pity her as you would pity any kid. There’s something touching in her." (“While Lolita Travels Around the World, the Entomologist Nabokov and the Agronomist Robbe-Grillet Exchange Pawns on the Literary Chessboard”), Arts (Paris), October 28–Nov. 3, 1959, 4.) 

"She came entirely out of my imagination. Critics, in general, find her odious; I pity her: an orphan, alone in life with a demanding forty-year-old. When I wrote about her last meeting with Humbert, I cried, like Flaubert at the death of Madame Bovary. “She cries every night, and the critics don’t hear her sobs,” said Mrs. Nabokov." (“Nabokov Without Lolita”, Nouvelles littéraires, Oct. 29, 1959, 1–2.)

"But she’s also a very touching character. Toward the end of the book, the reader and the author pity her, this poor child who has been sacrificed on the altar of motels. It’s very sad." (“The Good Mr. Nabokov: Lolita’s Father Forsakes Nymphets for the Sake of Pushkin and Robbe-Grillet”), L’Express, Nov. 5, 1959, 32–33.)

"Is Lolita amoral? On the contrary. It has a very moral moral: don’t harm children. Now, Humbert does [...] And Lolita, isn’t she a victim and not a little slattern….After all, haven’t I indicated the evil of all this, in giving Lolita a stillborn child?" (“Conversation, Vladimir Nabokov: He Likes Humor, Tennis and Proust. He Hates Communists, Sade, Freud”),  L’Express, Jan. 26, 1961. )

"How, then, do you explain the “Lolita cult”? How do you explain all these girls who move, act, dress, and talk like Lolita? I wouldn’t know. Perhaps it is a result of the way the popular press has distorted my poor Lo. It has come up with something that has absolutely nothing to do with the book or Lolita the character. Lolita is the story of a sad little girl in a very sad world. The “Lolita cult” is something completely different." (“Love Today: How the Author of Lolita Sees It”), L’Europeo, June 23, 1966, 28–33. )

"Humbert Humbert is a vain and cruel wretch who manages to appear “touching.” That epithet, in its true, tear-iridized sense, can only apply to my poor little girl." (Paris Review, The Art of Fiction No. 40, Issue 41, Summer-Fall 1967)

"Lolita isn’t a perverse young girl. She’s a poor child who has been debauched and whose senses never stir under the caresses of the foul Humbert Humbert, whom she asks once, “how long did [he] think we were going to live in stuffy cabins, doing filthy things together…? [...] It is equally interesting to dwell, as journalists say, on the problem of the inept degradation that the character of the nymphet Lolita, whom I invented in 1955, has undergone in the mind of the broad public. Not only has the perversity of this poor child been grotesquely exaggerated, but her physical appearance, her age, everything has been transformed by the illustrations in foreign publications. Girls of eighteen or more, sidewalk kittens, cheap models, or simple long-legged criminals, are baptized “nymphets” or “Lolitas” in news stories in magazines in Italy, France, Germany, etc.; and the covers of translations, Turkish or Arab, reach the height of ineptitude when they feature a young woman with opulent contours and a blond mane imagined by boobies who have never read my book. In reality Lolita is a little girl of twelve, whereas Humbert Humbert is a mature man, and it’s the abyss between his age and that of the little girl that produces the vacuum, the vertigo, the seduction of mortal danger. Secondly, it’s the imagination of the sad satyr that makes a magic creature of this little American schoolgirl, as banal and normal in her way as the poet manqué Humbert is in his. Outside the maniacal gaze of Humbert there is no nymphet. Lolita the nymphet exists only through the obsession that destroys Humbert. Here’s an essential aspect of a unique book that has been betrayed by a factitious popularity." (“Apostrophes: Bernard Pivot Meets Vladimir Nabokov”), live television interview, Antenne-2 (Paris), May 30, 1975.)

And let's close with my blog title:

"Lolita is an indictment of all the things it expresses. It is a pathetic book dealing with the plight of a child, a very ordinary little girl, caught up by a disgusting and cruel man….But of all my books, I like it the best. " (Author of Lolita Scoffs at Furore over His Novel,” Niagara Falls Gazette, Jan. 11, 1959, 10B.)

Thanks for coming to his TED Talk

[mirandyficlists]

Hi hi! I’d like to know what your Top 10 Holy Grail fics are? Like I’m talking about fics you would reccommend in a heart beat, fics that you feel are written extremely well that they feel like they should be published or something, fics that have really good pacing, right amount of fluff, angst, or smut. Or even ones that are just silly and fun. It would be cool to read some of your favs!

Hey Nonnie

First my standard answer to the top ten query...10!!! 10!!! You think i can narrow it down to 10!! LOLOLOL

Secondly, I'm flattered you want to know my preferences as a guide...but then that's what my spreadsheet is all about I guess. lol

Okay I did manage to keep myself to 30 fics and I will say I would live quite happily if the first 10 were all I was ever allowed to read for the ret of my life. Just saying. Heh

I've also included my reviews of each fic from my Spreadsheet of 2250+ Mirandy fics to explain my love for the fics.

If you want the fics that are no longer online just message me privately with your email and I'll send my zipped file of deleted Mirandy fics your way.

Happy Reading Nonnie

All the Breast

XVNot15

Top ten and why?

The Lady And Her Dragons by Bearblue https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738811/chapters/51860098

(WIP) OMG!!!!!!!!!!  So amazingly wonderful and magical and well just damned hot!  Full of myth and magic, Miranda and Cruella are real Dragons and Andy is their Lady. Magical machinations and battles ensue. The story is compelling and Bearblue controls the content of magical information absolutely beautifully, you're interest is captured, but you're not over whelmed with more information than what is required for the story she is telling.  Again it has to be said. OMG!!! I have now read this fic over 500 times…and I mean that! Have read it once a week and sometimes 2 or 3 times a week for more than a decade.

Truth and Measure by Telanu https://archiveofourown.org/works/779826/chapters/1468543

The downfall of my anti Mirandy life that dragged me kicking and cursing into the heart of the Mirandyverse. This is what I call a Simchat Torah story. Much like the holiday in which the last chapter of Torah is read and then the first chapter immediately afterward to start the cycle again. And that's just what I did with this one. Miranda discovers after the separation with Stephen that she is pregnant and as she copes with that Andy helps her and eventually Miranda proposes a mutually beneficial relationship...which Andy then proceeds to turn on its head almost immediately. Excellently written and adored the characterisations of both women.

It’s All Relative by Hawkbehere https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884348/chapters/13561771

OMFG!! This is an amazing story. Well written and excellently paced as well. Post Paris H/C piece where Miranda is shot and Andy runs to her side to help and care for her.. A very complex and interesting characterisation of both M and A. The hints at Sub/dom with true love and respect were pitched absolutely meltingly perfect And the passion of Miranda's need for Andy is mind blowing.

Small Favors Series  by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793701/chapters/6270377

Andy wins a press award and sees Miranda. They talk and Andy acknowledges her feelings to herself. Andy sends a lily as a thank you. Hot first kiss in the conference room at the Mirror. The girls are very supportive as the relationship develops. INTERLUDE - Hot late night quickie in Miranda's office.  BEAUTIFUL THINGS - sees the development  of the relationship through some early rough spots. They're outed by Miranda's PR firm. Loved the twins with their pudding balloon bombs. HERE TO STAY - GOOD FORTUNE –

Fur No Thanks I’d Rather Go Naked by Writtensword (Deleted but I have the fic and can send it.)

Ooooooooooo so totally wonderful this story read it 3 times one after the other. Miranda is magically turned into a Mink and only Andrea can hear her speak and she takes care of her as they try to undo the spell. The characterisation of Mink Miranda is sooooooooooooooo terrific I want more Mink tales. heh  Lovely denoument when Miranda turns back to her human form.

Like Andrea Series by Ginstan https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940092

Ooooooooooooooo romance, mystery, intrigue and damn fine writing! Loved this fic! Andy is alerted to the fact that Miranda needs help when Runway does an edition where every single model looks like her. She comes to Miranda's rescue and their relationship develops super fast and super beautifully..  And beautiful mini FOL crossover! heheh I adore the characterisations of a vulnerable Miranda and a very soft butch Andy.

A Failure to Communicate by thelastgoodname https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300144

Miranda decides to Marry Andy and is busy dictating the plans to Andy just one problem... She hasn't actually asked Andy out on a date yet or anything else.  Cue a very confused Andy and a backpeddling Miranda. Ohhh my aching sides!!!! This is just soooooooooooo funny and sooooo well written.It's just brilliant!

Admiration by Punky_96 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936337

Swooooooooooon!! Total romance and way HOT sex too! Miranda has a secret (not to us though) admirer who is leaving her daily gifts and notes. She becomes smitten and isn't quite sure until the big reveal.  Beautifully written and I loved it, but it ends rather abruptly.

The Brutal Truth by Redcharcoal (Removed as it was published…both are AWESOME! FF is available in the FB Mirandy Group and in my deleted fic file.)

Wonderfully well written piece. Miranda claims to only want the Brutal truth and ends up having a bet with Andrea that she can't get an exclusive interview with a famous designer and the stakes are one day of absolute honesty for Andrea and one week for Miranda. Andy outs Stephen as a predator and Miranda fires her...but then she gets the exclusive interview with the Deuchamps and they become her friends.

Miranda’s Runway series by Jehc https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242412/chapters/2552452

Oh the joy of a well written and well crafted characterisation piece.  Love this 4 years post Paris piece with Andy having a daughter she has actually named Miranda but who she calls Mandy who is somehting of an artistic prodigy. Andy has written a series of amazingly successful books on fashion but remains anonymous until she trades her privacy to foil Irvs latest almost successful coups against Miranda.  Things follow on from there, when little Mandy meets Randa and they fall for each other as hard as Miranda falls for Andrea.  Amazing fic.

The Fall and the Landing & 90 Days to Glory by Brithna/Ash_Mountain https://archiveofourown.org/works/481161

Warning: Character Death. My God almighty what a powerful piece of writing! This is not fanfiction, this is life, this is the most skillful playing of all that it is to be human, fragile, and to hold friendship and love as the reward for the pain and challenge that those prizes intrinsically bring with them. Have tissues ready, and be prepared to read with your heart and know that love is the force that truly connects all life.

On a Tractor by Bearblue https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696331/chapters/26333922

OMG! Absolutely brilliantly written long post Paris piece. Andy lends up inheriting a farm which she decides to run and she becomes quite the nature photographer as well. Miranda wants her farm for a photoshoot and goes out to visit and things take their natural course. Bear's writing is incredibly fluid and tinglingly evocative. Love the characterisation of Andy in this one. A Simchat Torah - immediate re-reader.

Break it Down With Joy by Winter156 https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394080

A drabble that is sheer perfection. A and M are friends, Andy has declared her love but Miranda has stated that they will never have a physical relationship, Andy stays anyway, suffering the pain of incompleteness, until that moment of decision. Excellently written, and soooo poignant.

By Heart by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673044/chapters/5976851

Swooooooooooon, mushfest!! With lovely hot sexiness too. A H/C tale where Andy ends up with a broken leg on a ski weekend and Miranda cares for her in their cabin as they get snowed in for a couple of days and the heating fails heheh. But there is a fireplace and while 'keeping warm' one thing leads to another.

Basic Black by Beachbum https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045490

Brava BB, a lovely piece set post Paris. Nigel who has stayed friends with Andy decides to play matchmaker for the two women in his life. The description of Andy's suit was totally droolsome. And the love scene, wow, took my breath away. Loooooooooved the ending, god Miranda in nothing but a white dress shirt, but still so totally confident and in control of the situation. Yowsa!!

Disarming Athena by Politic X https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921940/chapters/26942895

Wonderful but sometimes distressing psychological exploration that occurs between Miranda and Andy. Many of the interactions take place in the elevator. Miranda appears to be torturing Andy with invitations and demands for her to touch her clothes but not her. Then she fires Andy and this behaviour continues as Andy works her notice.  Eventual happy ending.

Hidden Yet Bright by needled_ink https://archiveofourown.org/works/97340

Swoooooooooooooon, a beautiful and well written short of a developing friendship gently shifting into more but without strings. Loved the chartacterisations of both Andy and Miranda.

In Some Quite Casual Way by Winter156 https://archiveofourown.org/works/621060/chapters/1120824

Holy mother of mountains what a fic. From a request for a story that involved a character with wings. Miranda is a fallen angel of sorts and saves Andy when she falls out a skyscraper window. Declarations of love, and serious sweaty snugglebunnies followed by major storyline and escellent denouement. Gret writing, amazing story, just amazing.

Lost Treasures by Jazwriter  (Removed as it was published…both are AWESOME! FF is available in the FB Mirandy Group and in my deleted fic file.)

  Wow! Andy works as a sales clerk and then a Window dresser in  a small boutique. Her window designs cpature Miranda's attention and fascination. She takes Andy under her wing and mutual attraction sparks. Great little fic.

Objects and Space by Stormashke https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126698

Absolutely Stunning!!!!  Compellingly written with just the right meter and timing. Wonderful internal dialogue from Miranda's pov in an established relationship. She travels through the different rooms of the house noting the evidence of Andy's presence that still bug her…but also noting their indications of Andy's space in her heart and the twins heart and the things she will live with in that space of love.

Rebellious Lock & When Locks Get Locked by Quiethearted http://ralst.com/RebelliousLock.HTM

Ohh soooooooo funny!!!! Miranda's hair has a mind of it's own and it's concentrating on one particular brunette. This is comic writing at it's best. I'm still chuckling.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee, sequel!  Woohoo, Miranda's hair has awakened an interest from Andy's hair and all is set for the clash of the tresses. Oh soooo wonderfully funny, I so hope this series continues, I want postcoital follicle frolics. Heheh

Sharp Relief by chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672990/chapters/5976701

AMAZING fic!!!!! Wow Andy gets a call reporting that Miranda has died in a car crash on her way to her weekend cabin. She goes into shock and faces the fact of how much she loved her. She helps with the twins and stays at the townhouse until there is another call that send her and the girls out into the night chasing a hope agaisnt hope.  So amazing this.

The Lily and the Crown by Telanu (now published) https://archiveofourown.org/works/750438/chapters/1400746

Andren is the reclusive daughter of one of the Empires most capable Station Masters. Assistant - her new slave is the dread space Pirate Queen Mir. Seduction, debauchery, abandonment and redemption in this Space Swashbuckler.Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Gaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwdddddddddd!!!!!!!!!  Wow!!!! Fluids!!!!!!! This is just soooooooooooo wonderfully hot and romantic and hot and well good god I loved it. Okay, perhaps the Andren character was a little bit tooo clueless, but perhaps wonderfully evocative of another time. Still it was a great story and really interesting.

Unexpected Grace by Silverie https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9092005/1/Unexpected-Grace

Amazingly well written fic starting with amazing dream sequances of ancient days and a Goddess/priestess Miranda, perfectly mirrored in a waking world of events. Andy expands her life into music when she comes to own a beautiful guitar decorated with a dragon...linking to her desire for a certain dragon lady.  Lyrically written. Brilliant!!!!

A not exactly storybook romance by writetherest https://archiveofourown.org/works/923207/chapters/1793725

An AU where Andy is independently wealthy and owns a book store which Cassidy starts to visit daily as Andy befriends her. Eventually Miranda and she meet and after a bad decision it's a wonderfully sweet love story. Absolutely wonderful romance done here, adore the shier sweeter Andy.

Farsighted by emeraldorchids https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129537/chapters/14047437

Excellent mid length piece. All from Miranda's pov, chronicling how she and Andrea slip into a wonderful and easy friendship after Paris, that several months later morphs into more. What I love is the realness of Miranda in this fic as a full fledged human being all balance and counter balance with strengths and weaknesses.  And I enjoyed the reality check and stunned Miranda after Andy kisses her. As well as the gradual exploration afterward. The upshot with the page six comment picture in bed is a perfect ending.

Four Corners by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039309/chapters/2073686

Truth be told, this is a ten star effort. I looooved it! A phenomonally wonderful piece, well written and amazingly characterised. All told from Cassidy's pov as she lives her parents divorce, the advent and demise of Stephen and the new and wonderful inclusion of Andy in her mother's and the twins lives.

Caught Between the Moon and New York City Series  by Punky_96 https://archiveofourown.org/series/1027544

Brilliant story of Miranda as a werewolf and pack leadercaptured by a secret research facility that captures and studies paranormal creatures where Andy works.  Grat adventure unfolds as they escape and Andy's true nature is discovered. Excellently written and intriguing backstory.

After Dark by LiteraryAssasin https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560673/chapters/48807857

A wonderfully characterised slow burn, friends to lovers fic. Well written and engaging of course, from an excellent bard. Andy grows a backbone in the best and most proactive way…almost swapping some of her softness for some of Miranda’s firmness so that they can both balance themselves and each other. I adored Miranda’s oh so careful way of helping Andy while trying also not to overwhelm her with that help.  A nifty little sub pairing of a mirrored couple is so seamlessly done it’s just amazing.  Also touches on an idea I’ve had for quite some time…may have to dust that one off.

If and When by Kamuraskan https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821418/chapters/29271045

WOOT!!! No greater love hath a Bard for another Bard than to make an offering in a completely unfamiliar fandom. (Thanks Gin.) Most wonderfully well written and amazing Disaster/survival fic. Andy uncovers a terrorist plot to blow up the EC building the night the VP is attending a party there. She isn't believed by Homeland security so she approaches the new CEO of EC...Miranda they manage to evacuate the building but are still on the 20th floor when the bombs go off....suspense, love and amazingness commence.

[themuseinthewoods]

Headcanons for the men of Troy (2004) falling in love with a princess

Ok, so @nymphfever I didn't feel like I could properly flesh out the priestess idea just yet so here's one with princess instead! Ty for trying, it's very much appreciated.

F!reader who is a princess. Scenarios/headcanons I guess?

Curse words are the only warning, and I was half asleep when I wrote this.

As always, my Troy 2004 work is loosely based on the Iliad as well because I'm a huge nerd lol.

Enjoy!

Achilles this gif kills me

Oh boy

okay, so let's say you are Nestor's daughter because I actually really love the guy in the Iliad and Odyssey

You take after your dad

Lets say your a bit rough-n-tumble, being raised by a dad and all brothers does that my friend with all boys in her house told me those lol

Nestor is canonically a very smart, wise, kind, old king. You probably remind him of youth and joy he keeps you at his side so he can remind himself that everything he does shall effect your future and the future of every young person in his kingdom

So, how is Achilles gonna get near this beloved daughter?

....

Idk what your expecting, he fucking asks

He's a flirt, but

He also has to get married doesn't he? And what better then marrying a princess

A very beautiful princess who isn't afraid to give him an ego check every once in a while

Will call you by your title, even if you ask him not to

Loves that you can manage the political side with him, he'll sit by you and look threatening and you will handle it

good cop/bad cop anyone?

good god he's so in love dress pretty to party's with the spoils of war he brings back for you? he will dance with you all night if you wish

Patroclus (ik I use this gif alot but there aren't many of him)

Oh this sweet angel

Undecided who your parent is for now

He falls quickly, dreaming that someday he shall be your hero and you his beautiful princess.

but wow, you love him back?

isn't the luckiest?

does his level best to make it the perfect fairytale romance for you

Even if you don't want to be treated like a princess, he'll treat you like one anyway

sorry, I don't really have anything else for this boy

Hector he so beautiful, I'm so lonely he's my type

ok, so even though its kinda expected that he should marry another royal or someone in a high station of life but just because others expect him to doesn't mean he does

Hector, especially in this movie, seems pretty humble.

And a beautiful princess who is looking to him to be her handsome Prince finds that prince in him.

You see that gif? that's how he looks at you! <3<3<3 (I personally would faint of this man even looked at me that way)

He's so happy because you'll understand his duties, and you can support each other

he will do his best to help you with yours and if you help him with his own responsibility's? his heart may melt

he's so happy that he can give you the life you were used to, if not a better one, even if you aren't the kind of person who likes that

god I'm so single

Paris

believes he's the luckiest man in the world

i mean, he's not wrong

another sweet lad to try and give you your fairy tale romance

he's so poetic in the movie

call him your sweet prince

do it

he will actually swoon

the sweetest prince who could have fallen for a princess like you

cannot believe your in love with him

Odyessus

i mean

he's a king, so it's kinda like, expected?

at the same time, he's still very happy

you can understand his station and his duties as king and he can bring you up to the station of queen

honestly, I'd highly recommend falling in love with him

he'll call you his princess and then later his queen

finds joy in the simple things as we know but will give you anything your taste desires

loves it if you dress up for him

[bullet-prooflove]

New Year's Bingo Card 2024: Fireworks - Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @thedeadsingforme @mia1653 @kimbergoldess

Companion piece to:

Paris - Your entire world changes when you meet Terry Silver on your birthday. 

Pont des Arts - You and Terry stroll along the Pont des Arts.

Yours (NSFW) - Your first time with Terry starts with a seduction.

Adventure - Terry asks you to come on an adventure.

Stand By Me - Terry realises he's planning a life with you.

After spending Christmas in Prague, you and Terry ring in the new year in Sydney. You dine at a restaurant in Cockle Bay, drinking champagne before the fireworks display starts above the water in Darling Harbour. You watch from the railing on the veranda, your head tilted back towards the sky as Terry lingers alongside you.

You’re completely captivated by the eruptions of colour, the brilliant shapes they weave in the vast darkness. You want to commit this moment to memory, to immerse yourself in it because you know there won’t be many more after this.

These past six months with Terry, they’ve been a whirlwind of experiences and you’ll treasure every single one of the memories you’ve made together but like all good things, it must come to an end and in a week’s time you’ll be returning back to the reality of your life, one that seems so small and inadequate compared to the one that Terry leads.

When you get back home he’ll still be a billionaire and you’ll still be you, an artist struggling to make ends meet. You have nothing to offer a man like him and you know he’ll realise that once you return to the US.

“You look sad.” Terry murmurs from alongside you, his voice almost drowned out by the boom from the fireworks above. His palm comes to rest on your lower back, his thumb tracing soothing circles in an attempt to stave off whatever’s upsetting you.

“Just wistful.” You say as you incline your head towards him.

He looks so handsome in the light cast by fireworks, the colours splash across his face like neon lights, highlighting his features and you wish you could take a picture of his moment, that you could paint this version of him.

“Georgia…” He murmurs as he looks into your eyes and you know what he’s about to say  next. “I-”

You steal away his words with a kiss, your hands threading through his hair as you reach up on tiptoes and claim his mouth. He responds to you with an urgency you feel deep down in your bones, his arms caging you in against the railing, his firm body pressing against you.

The fireworks erupt once more with vigour. They’re louder this time, their concussive energy rocking through your body before Terry draws away. You whine at the loss of sensation as he cradles your face between his hands.

“I love you.” He whispers against your swollen lips. “You need to know that before we go back to LA.”

“Terry…” You begin and he shakes his head.

“You don’t have to say it back.” He tells you and in that moment it’s like he sees into the depths of your soul, that he understands those stupid little fears that whisper in the back of your mind. “You need to know that nothing changes my love, that I just want you and only you.”

Love Terry? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[apomaro-mellow]

Matchmaking Harringtons 1

After a nice, hearty breakfast the Harrington family packed into the car and drove off to the mall for some shopping. They didn't have any set summer plans yet but that could always change. In fact, Steve's parents were formulating some schemes while he busied himself looking through a rack of shorts.

"He could always meet people on a cruise", Diane suggested.

"True, but Steve would need his own suite", Jonas said.

"Well we would've given him one anyway."

"What about a trip to Paris? The most romantic city in the world."

"And get his heart broken by one of those flighty Europeans? I think not", Diane vetoed.

Jonas shrugged. "It's a summer romance."

"There's a difference between a summer romance and a summer fling."

"....There is?"

"And besides, didn't we say we wanted him to get serious with someone?"

"True. A nice fella to settle down with", Jonas said, almost with a dreamy sigh as he thought about his son NOT being in the rumor mill for once.

"I didn't mean that serious", Diane said.

"Well all of this means nothing if we can't find anyone."

"Are you guys still talking about my love life? Which I remind you is none of your business?", Steve asked, chosen shorts in hand.

"Actually, we were talking about our love life", Jonas said before pulling his wife close and kissing her cheek.

It got the desired reaction from their son, a groan as he averted his eyes. After getting a couple of things to spruce up their wardrobe, Steve thought he could break free, but they truly planned to make a day of the trip.

His mom wanted some new sunglasses and his dad spent an inhuman amount of time searching for a new wallet. When he was younger, his parents rewarded his patience with an ice cream cone or something to that effect.

Now that he was older, he preferred other things. But his folks still knew his tells well, so it only took him glancing at the music store before Diane was leading them towards it.

"If we take a road trip, we need something to listen to. Pick something good."

She said this to both her husband and son, but Steve was the one moving, slowly towards a standee in the store.

"Holy...I can't believe it!"

"You like this guy?", Diane asked. The standee was of a man, with what must be their latest music in cassette form.

Steve looked at her like she was living under a rock. "Mom, you don't just 'like' Bon Jovi you...This", he picked up one of the cassette tapes, "Is something to be treasured."

"So you really like him."

"Not just him!", Steve said quickly, his face getting a little pink. "It's a whole band not just one guy."

While Steve was talking to his mother about what was apparently a well-liked music group, Jonas was having a moment of enlightenment. Because he saw the standee and then he saw the cashier. It was like the two of them were cut from the same cloth. Like they had the same mold.

Jonas wasn't crazy about the long hair and ripped jeans, but at least the t-shirt with the store's logo was clean. And he was wearing a nametag too. That showed some level of professionalism. He spent probably a little too long looking at him because the guy looked up as if he could feel eyes on him.

Jonas tried to meet his wife's gaze and bless her, she met his eyes right away. He sort of gave a nod towards the cashier and she looked, her lips widening into a smile as she regarded both the flesh and blood man and the one made out of cardboard. They were both thinking the same thing.

He's perfect.

Moving in sync, Diane kept Steve busy looking at other musical selections while Jonas stepped up to the counter.

"Sooo", Jonas started.

"Sooo, you ready to check out?", the cashier, Eddie said.

"I'm not actually purchasing just yet. But speaking of checking out...", Jonas turned slightly and to turn the attention to his son. "What do you think of him?"

"Umm..."

"He's a handsome fella, right?"

"Iiiis this entrapment?"

"Oh! Oh god no, don't worry, I'm his father."

"That doesn't make this any less awkward", Eddie said.

"Let me explain. My son...We want him to find someone special. And my wife and I think you might be a favorable suitor."

Eddie looked to Steve again, checking him out just a little. "And he's uh, you know, open to being courted? By someone like me?"

"Pretty open", Jonas nodded, keeping his voice low so their conversation remained as private as it could be in such a public place.

Eddie's hands were braced against the counter as he tilted his head and looked at Steve once again and Jonas could tell when someone was interested, even if they played for the other team.

"What the hell, I'll go for it."

"Perfect." Jonas beamed and moved away from the register.

After pretending to peruse for a bit more, Jonas sent Steve with some cash to buy the music they'd all picked out. He put an arm around his wife as they watched him approach Eddie.

"Well? Do I know how to pick 'em or what?"

"You got lucky", Diane said, annoyed but fond. "So, what's he like?"

"....I don't know."

"Jonas!", Diane hissed in a whisper and smacked his shoulder. "You sent our son to go flirt with a stranger and you don't even know what kind of man he is?"

"He looks like Steve's type. And he seemed nice. Has a stable job-"

"You're not a fan of the hair, are you?", Diane clocked her husband.

"It's a little lengthy. Not quite marriage material. But maybe he'll cut it before proposing."

"Who's talking about marriage?"

Jonas gave her a look. "He's a man now. And we said he needs to get serious."

"You'd let your son marry a bad boy?"

"You did", Jonas grinned.

Diane kissed his cheek. "You were barely a miscreant. And you mellowed out in your old age."

Jonas was about to say something back when Steve returned to them, music bought and bagged up.

"So uh, that cashier was somethin' huh?", Jonas said.

"What? Yeah, I guess."

While Steve was walking out of the store, Diane and Jonas shared a worried look. It had looked like he was having a fine talk with Eddie but maybe they had been mistaken. But even if they had miscalculated, they could still course correct.

Part 3

Tag Team

@tartarusknight

[marinettesaltprompts]

Prompt by @kawaiichibiart

I wanted to expand on one of my first prompts I shared, which was the class/school transfer but instead of Marinette it's Adrien. Marinette Salt, implied Akuma class salt (implied because I feel like you could leave it out and the story will still work). Deceptive Gabriel Sugar (you think he's being nice but it's all part of his plans to get the miraculous).

--------

After being told he knew about Lila the whole time, the Akuma class turns on Adrien. It starts with ignoring him and not inviting him to things. The only reason he shows up for band practice is because of Luka.

It then evolves into badmouthing him and some of his old classmates even go as far as bullying him.

It gets to be too much for him that he starts ditching and eventually, in that extremely rare "good dad" moment, Gabriel pulls him out of school.

The two sit down and talk about what happened to let things get to this point, and Adrien tells him what he knows. Lila lying, how he thought it was just for attention, the highroad, how Marinette told their classmates he knew Lila was lying but didn't tell them anything else, like how Lila was threatening her, something he kinda figured out on his own when she got Marinette expelled, or well, he assumed Lila hurt Marinette someway...she made it seem like he was okay with Lila lying when he wasn't. He just...didn't know how to stop her or how to get people to listen without any proper evidence.

And Marinette just, threw him under the bus. He thought she was his friend. That he and his classmates were friends. Maybe, maybe Gabriel was right. He never should have gone to school.

Time for extremely rare "good dad" Gabe to strike again: in a two birds one stone moment, Gabriel suggests Adrien lives with his aunt and cousin in London. They can find a good school for him to attend if he still wants to attend one in person. It'll also keep him safe from Akumas, he still thinks about Gorizilla and how he could have lost him (and also this way he didn't have to worry about Adrien potentially being the one he has to akumatize. Once he wins, Adrien will be able to return home to his mother).

Adrien agrees and moves in with Amelie and Felix. And because they honestly feel like it, the boys literally become twins. Felix and Adrien Graham de Vanily both attend a private school where they can focus on their future careers.

We skip a bit forward in time and DuPont is now in London on a field trip. They're getting a tour of one of their biggest private schools. They're able to see students working on their schedules, each one differing from one another due to the difference of career paths. And once they enter the labs, they see Adrien and Felix.

The twins are working on experiments together when the DuPont students arrive. Some of them try to talk to Adrien, but Felix blocks them, speaking over them or shushing them. As part of their trip, they get to attend the school for a few days. During this time, they try to reconnect with Adrien.

But either their schedules don't align, Felix gets in the way, or Adrien remains civil but isn't interested in mending bridges.

Some of them understand. They hurt him. He moved on. They messed up and lost a friend.

Others don't. He had to be exaggerating his hurt feelings. He was always so forgiving with Chloe. What made them different??

The worst is Marinette. Not only is Adrien ignoring her, he literally told her to not speak to him. To stay away from him. She didn't do anything wrong. She didn't mean any harm when she said he knew about Lila. Why can't he forgive her?!

"I'm trying to be nice!! I've forgiven you for that bullshit advice and you decide you're too good for me?!"

"Ha, "too good." Sure."

"I'm not talking to you. Adrien-"

"Doesn't want to talk to you. But I, on the other hand, have some words for you. Stay away from us. Go back to your petty filled life in Paris. You say you "forgive" my cousin for the advice he have you. Advice you willingly took, no?"

"Well, I-"

"Or am I missing the part where my favorite cousin made you take that advice. Advice can be given but it doesn't have to be taken. You taking the highroad, was ultimately, you're choice. You made that decision and got someone else hurt. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Felix-"

"It doesn't matter so long as you end up on top. As long as you aren't the one being pushed around and ignored and hurt. As long as you win."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!!"

"We both know it is. If it wasn't, you never would have let things get as far as they did. You would have told the entire truth. Not held things back. You would have accepted responsibility for your part in what your class did to my cousin, no, to my brother."

"I already said I was sorry!! What more do you want?!"

"I want you to leave."

"Adrien-"

"Leave, Marinette. I have nothing to say to you."

"You heard him. Get. Out."

some additional points I couldn't work into the prompt:

• Adrien is still Chat Noir, but he's no longer Paris's hero. Chat Noir is active in London. Costume and name change are optional.

• Of his old friends, he only speaks to Luka, Kagami, and occasionally Chloe.

• Felix and Adrien played "rock, paper, scissors" to determine who's birthday they would use. Winner also got to be the eldest twin. Felix won.

• Felix switches between referring to Adrien as his cousin and his brother.

• This isn't a requirement but if someone can manage to work it in, get Felix his miraculous (the peacock) early. I love the cat bird duo.

• Marinette still has a crush on Adrien and expected him to beg for her forgiveness, which she would give him after he groveled for a while, so she's surprised when he cuts contact with her entirely.

• Possible rare "good dad" Gabriel moment four: he tells the public a shortened version as to why Adrien left, which is his son was being bullied and he worried that that would cause him to be akumatized. Not wanting to risk it, he sent him to live with his aunt and cousin in London. And once everything was over, he could return, hopefully happier and safer. Which, sadly, means Adrien won't be modeling for Gabriel for the foreseeable future. But that's a chance he's willing to take if it means his son isn't hurt or targeted.

It's his way of showing the public he's just a concerned father who had the means to send his child somewhere he could be safe. It's something other parents had considered and some also decide to go through with the idea.

• Of his past classmates, the ones Adrien is a bit more welcoming to are: Juleka, Sabrina and Nathaniel. This is mostly because they just stayed on the sidelines the entire time. Something they regret but acknowledge can't be taken back. So, while the bridge hasn't been mended, the distance isn't big enough that they have to worry about falling and drowning.

[galaxyedging]

This is for the Pedrostories Secret Santa Event.

For the lovely @baronessvonglitter

WC: 5.15k

Warnings: Smut. I don't want to give anything away, so proceed with caution.

Summary: The promotion to VP comes with a clause. Will a year in a small town change our readers' plans?

Featuring Joel Miller and Dave York

Christmas In Paris

“Honeymire, as its name suggests, used to be too waterlogged to expand on when the land was settled.” The opening that sounded great in your head doesn't feel right as you say it out loud. “Now that our surveys show that this is no longer the case, we're hoping to bring new life to the town.”

The rest of the presentation runs smoothly. All the data is there. It all points to a great investment opportunity, with high returns. Still, you can see the investors are on the fence. It's been a while since you'd pitched anything in such a rural location. Maybe it was time to switch things up.

“Look, I have to be honest, this goes beyond great projected profits for me.” Like a guarantee of becoming VP of Sales with a huge raise. “I grew up in a town like this. The memories of being part of a community and something bigger than myself helped me get where I am today.” Everyone knowing my business and thinking they had a right to talk about it drove me to the city. “This isn't just an opportunity to make money, it's an opportunity to make a community whole again, to bring new life to the area and give others a fresh start to theirs somewhere they can call home.”

The investors loved the talk of home and community. 

Unfortunately, a little too much you think as you open the curtains in the place that had become your home for the last year. The investors handed over way more cash than the company had been expecting, and that figure had been staggeringly high. Your boss had offered you the promotion the next day but with a caveat, you were to move to the town to oversee everything personally. Once the project was finished, you would be welcomed back with a raise, enough to buy that penthouse apartment you'd been eyeing. Your whole future runs through your mind as you get ready for your day until you are abruptly jarred out of them by a grumpy yowl.

“Seriously? You're giving me attitude? You're not even my cat, you little freeloader.” You grumble at the little ball of mixed fur sitting haughtily in the middle of your kitchen floor. Still, you opened a tin of tuna and placed it in the bowl you bought just for her and refreshed her water bowl. “I'm seeing Joel today. I'm going to have him nail that cat flap shut.” You idly threaten as the ginger and black mottled creature eyes you. “Don't look at me like that. He's just a contractor I work with.” You project onto your four-legged companion. Although even the cat could see that things had changed between you and Joel lately.

Joel Miller had come highly recommended when you were looking for contractors in the area. After his daughters moved out for college, he downsized his business and moved north to be closer to them. He'd settled in the same town as his brother to spend time with his family, including his young nephews. You knew quite a bit about Joel. Divorced single father at a young age. He adopted one of his daughter Sarah's friends when her mom passed away. With his brother Tommy's help and sometimes hindrance, as Joel tells it, he built a great business. Aside from his daughters, Tommy was Joel's only close family left. His parents passed away in a car accident when Tommy was in junior high. Joel had pretty much finished raising Tommy and then started raising his own daughter. Joel was easy to talk to while you planned the finer details of the project. Sometimes well into the night, as you got sidetracked by enjoying each other's company. Joel no longer felt like an employee. He felt like something more, a friend or maybe…that potential spiral into no good thoughts is cut off by a heavy knock at your door.

Once your eyes adjust to the figure in front of you backlit by the morning sun on last night's fresh snow, you take in the well-dressed, broad shouldered man in front of you. He makes no secret of doing the same, removing his sunglasses to let his eyes travel your whole body. When his eyes finally reach yours, he speaks “Sorry to disturb you. I got here early, and the man at the gas station said to just knock here. I'm Dave, Dave York.” 

“Oh, Mr York! Hi. Er, I wasn't expecting you….” You suddenly feel flustered. Maybe due to the abrupt arrival of your client or due to the fact that he is even hotter than his voice led you to imagine he was. 

“I know, and please, Dave. I just woke up and decided to make the drive early. I figured I could get breakfast here and wait, but the guy assured me that you wouldn't mind me knocking.” Dave told you in earnest.

I bet he didn't. Gus was married to the owner of the diner. The two of them were the biggest busybodies in town. They both had plenty to say about a single woman in her forties. 

“It's absolutely fine. I just haven't long been up. I haven't had my coffee yet, so doing business is a shock to the system.” You put on your brightest smile to put Dave at ease.

“Well, in that case, the least I can do is get you coffee. I was going to the diner anyway, maybe you can escort me?”

A cup of coffee had sounded innocent enough. Then Reba, Gus’ wife and fellow busybody, had gotten involved, and the next thing you know, you and Dave were eating breakfast together and chatting the morning away. You had to admit that even without Reba’s help, Dave was smooth and confident enough to keep you here. The attraction between the two of you was obvious. Dave flirted openly, though he managed to keep it subtle and classy. There was an air of mystery about him. Even beyond his CIA work, there was a cool reservedness under his charming facade. There was an intensity there, too. Sadly, there were not many men who you could imagine as your equal or, in this case superior, but you could easily imagine Dave dominating you…the third interruption to your thoughts of the day comes courtesy of Joel clearing his throat. 

“Sorry to interrupt. I just didn't want to miss our meeting.” Joel lays on the southern charm as he introduces himself to Dave. 

It doesn't take an ex-CIA agent to see it's stretched over an underbed of annoyance. Dave acts just as politely, even with the obvious tension in the air, as he gives Joel his own name and his hand.

After what feels like forever, it's your turn to speak. “My apologies to you both. Dave, it was lovely to meet you. You have your keys. Take your time to inspect the property and get back to me with any issues. I have a meeting with Joel, our very competent contractor, who can handle any last-minute requests for your home. Breakfast is on me, well, the company. Enjoy. Joel, let's head over to the office.” Without looking as you make your way to the door seeking the air that had been sucked out of the room, you can tell Dave and Joel take a moment to eye each other. 

When Joel finally catches up to you outside, you offer him another apology.

“Don't worry about it. You were obviously busy entertaining your client.” The set of his jaw as he speaks makes you think about punching him in it. 

Joel is an extremely handsome man, even with being at home in the same neutral toned flannel every day, you could see him being able to pull off a variety of colours, unfortunately for him envy green didn't suit. The short meeting was conducted in even shorter exchanges. There were no pleasantries or antidotes. No lingering after business was done just to shoot the shit. 

It was barely noon when you got home, but you decided to take a long soak in the tub, hoping to wash away the discomfort of the morning. The bath worked to a certain extent. After some time relaxing on your own, you decide that whatever issue Joel had was on him, and Dave was free to handle it however he liked. Tying your robe at the waist, you watch the last of the bubbles drain and give the claw foot tub a quick rinse. The thought of a hot cup of tea and a book in your cosy chair leads you downstairs without even dressing. The water is simmering when you hear a rap on the kitchen window. You know who it is before you open the door. 

“Joel.” You open curtly.

“Listen, I'm not too good with words, but I wanted to say sorry for this morning. I...damn it…I guess I got jealous when I saw you with another man. Lately, I've been thinking that maybe when the job is over, you would let me take you out on a date.” For a big man, Joel seems awfully small while he gets that all out. Adorably so. Part of you wants to kiss the little patch in his beard. 

“You did alright with your words, Joel. Apology accepted. As for the date, you're right. I would have let you take me on one, but you know as soon as I'm done here, I'm going home. I have to admit this small town living was pretty nice for a while, but I have a career to get back to.” It was your turn to feel small, a career, and not much else. 

“I'm from Texas. We drive hours for a football game. A few hours drive for a date with a beautiful woman is nothing.” The way Joel softens for you makes you melt. 

All too quickly, you are aware of how close his broad chest is and how naked you are under your thin robe. Those large skilled hands could be on your bare skin in moments. The air shifts between you, throwing out more heat than the roaring fire in your living room. The times you've imagined Joel taking you in front of that thing on your lonely nights here was enough to make a sinner blush. As if you had slipped into a cartoon, the stream whistle blows on your kettle. 

“I better…” You pull yourself away from Joel. 

Not having those intense brown eyes looking down at you helps to clear your head. “That's really sweet, Joel. Maybe at another time, I would have jumped at the idea, but I'm going to have so much work to do. I have to get familiar with all of our clients, not just the ones I've handled. I need to research new investors and companies to work with. It's just going to be a lot, and I don't want to lead you on.” As if on autopilot, you pour the water over the tea bag, and it becomes the most fascinating thing in the room as you can't lift your face from it for fear of Joel seeing through you. It's not work that is keeping you from accepting his offer. It's fear. Fear of heartbreak, fear of something between you derailing your future plans, fear of so many unknowns.

“I know when to take no for an answer, but if you change your mind, I get good mileage out of my truck, and I keep the tank full.” You can picture the smirk on his face from his voice.   

It breaks through enough to make you turn to him. Sure enough, he has that smirk that breaks into that dopey grin he gets after he makes a dad joke when you smile at him.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for understanding.” It's not on the little bare patch, but you can't resist placing a kiss on his cheek.

The closeness of the two of you as you pull away draws your faces together until your lips meet a soft, tender kiss. When you pull away, there is a wordless exchange between you with eyes full of longing, regret, and understanding. 

“I'll see you at work tomorrow.” Joel finally provides trying to make things easier on you.

“See you tomorrow, Joel.” You manage a smile for him before seeing him out.

Your tea, book, and cosy chair are long forgotten in favour of throwing yourself on your bed like some lovesick Disney princess. Instead of birds fluttering around you, self-doubt flies about the space of your room. 

The ringing of your phone breaks you out of a slumber that you didn't realise had claimed you. Dave York’s name is on your screen. “Hi, Dave. How are you settling in?” 

Half an hour later, you are sitting at Dave’s breakfast bar as he details a few changes he would like. “These are all very doable.”

Instantly, you regret your choice of words when you see Dave’s face. The look on it makes it very clear that he caught your double entendre.”Where are my manners? I have even offered you anything to drink.”

Dave moves around the kitchen like he has lived there for years. Something tells you that Dave would move around any space like he owned it. Including the space between your legs. The touch of Joel's lips on yours and the memory of the heat of his body has you feeling a way as you watch Dave's hands competently open the bottle of wine he retrieved from the cabinet over the fridge. 

“Red? Or I have some chilled white?” Dave asks as if wine is the only choice.

“Neither, thank you.” You decline while Dave pours himself a healthy glass.

“Alright. You do seem a little tense. I thought it might help you relax. Is it anything to do with your contractor friend?” Dave's line of questioning has you blinking owlishly at him. “I don't mean to pry. He just seemed a bit put out this morning, with us enjoying each other's company, and you don't usually wear that cologne.” All you can do is sit there stunned. A little angry at the audacity, impressed by his attention to detail, a little relieved that it's out in the open. “Look, I know I just got here, but we've been speaking on the phone for a long time now. The way you handle yourself impressed me. Now I have a face, and body, to go with that I'm even more impressed. I enjoyed our breakfast this morning. I'd like to explore that connection further. If things don't work out with your Cowboy Contractor, you can call me. Or I don't mind keeping you company until they do.” Speechless. Speechless and aroused. 

“You know….I think I will have that glass of wine.” No other thoughts enter your head until you have downed at least half a glass of the quality merlot that Dave hands you. “Thank you…for the wine and the interest. I would be interested too. I mean, in you, but I have work…and…and Joel and…I…have to be going to conduct work and…Joel…so goodnight.”

Dave seems amused by your rambling as you make your way to the back door. Smiling broadly, he throws a ‘goodnight’ through the narrow gap in the door before you slam it shut.

Taking to your bed seems like a great option again. Laying there fully dressed, the weight of the day drives you into the mattress. This was not what you needed. Not at this stage in your life or at this time of the year. Tomorrow, you were to help with the Christmas festival and entertain prospective buyers. How were you supposed to be a cheery, innocent Santa's helper when you had thoughts of a different type of ‘ho ho ho’ in your mind? 

A quick ‘stress relief’ session, a shower, and a new pair of silky snowflake adored pyjamas have you more in the festive mind before you drift off to sleep. 

The next morning is non-stop. Both Dave and Joel crossed your path. Dave exchanged morning pleasantries as he returned from a jog in the light snowfall. You remind him about the festival and how important it is. Joel is helping with the stage, so you managed to avoid any long conversation. Aside from your requests from Dave, to be done in the new year, there really wasn't much you had to say to him. He was only going to be here to set up anyway. Lunchtime rolls around, and your stomach pulls you home from the bustling town square to the leftover soup and remainder of yesterday's fresh bread. The drive to the new development was only a few minutes away. When you get there, you wish that it was longer, so you missed the full-blown display of testosterone on your neighbour’s lawn. 

“I told you!” Joel spits.

“What do you want? A fucking medal?” Dave snarls back.

“Hey! What is going on?!” You call as soon as you jump out of your car now parked haphazardly on the street. 

Both men visibly calm.

Joel speaks first. “The power is out for the block. Dave decided to hang some Christmas lights.” You can tell it pains him not to add some dig at Dave.

“You said the festival was important. I wanted to do my part.” Dave tries to appeal to your good nature and high standards. 

“Which would have been great, I'm sure, if you hadn't overloaded the circuit board.” Joel grits out.

Dave moves first, turning squarely to Joel. Joel doesn't move an inch. He just calmly regards Dave’s stance.

“Enough! You can measure who’s is bigger later. Just fix this. Please.” The two of them morphed from scowling dogs to obedient pups at your words.

“We will.” Joel promises with Dave nodding in agreement. 

Thankfully, both your stove and water heater ran off gas, so you are still able to eat and shower before changing into your ridiculous elf costume. White and green striped tights covered your legs, clinging to your curvy thighs. A green and red elf dress and hat made up the rest of the costume, and it was completed with elf ears and sparkly rosy cheek makeup. 

At first, when you spot Joel and Dave through your window congratulating each other on getting the power back on, relief floods you. The day was back on track, and they seemed to be getting on well, bonus. Sadly, the relief is short-lived when they see you leave the house. The two of them exchange glances and acquire matching shit eater grins.

“Nope. I don't want to hear it. The power is on. You two aren't butting heads on the lawn. Do not ruin it.” You yell at them while scrambling into your car as quickly as possible before they spoil your mood with any jokes.

The festivities went well. The prospective buyers seemed overjoyed with the place. The current town residents seemed to approve of the applicants. Three new families are bringing eight children between them. The adults include a veterinarian, a teacher, and a nurse. Two well-off, quiet retired couples. The business woman was a no show, but she did travel a lot last minute as she'd told you. Santa proved very popular and you by association. It did warm your heart to hand out candy canes and see the children's happy faces. Best of all, Joel and Dave spent most of the day busy somewhere else and only turned up at the end of the day with some booze laden eggnog courtesy of Reba. 

“Wow. That could strip paint.” You comment before taking another healthy gulp.

“Easy. We might have to carry you home.” Joel laughs before taking a cautious sip from his own cup. 

“Please. I can handle my booze.” You scoff.

Dave raised his eyebrows in approval before raising his cup. “I'll drink to that.”

A few paint-stripped nogs later, the three of you amble home. You are in the middle flanked by your burly protectors. 

“You two seem to be getting on better, or is it just the alcohol?” The alcohol has certainly loosened you up. There was no way you would poke the bear like that sober.

“We talked while we worked on the electricity.” Dave begins to explain.

“I don't think she needs all the details.” Joel tries to laugh the whole thing off. Dave doesn't take any notice as he carries on. “You and Joel clearly have a thing, and he was here first, so I'm not going to muscle in on his territory. We've good.”

Joel lets out a quiet ‘goddammit’ as you come to an abrupt stop. “Oh? We've good are we? You two have decided that? You have decided that Joel can lay claim to me since he's planted his flag?!”

“Really? I just thought you kissed.” Dave quips.

Joel looks like he wants to take a swing at the other man.

“So you two have decided who I want? Well, the joke is on you. I want you both.” Wow, the alcohol has just removed your filter completely. “I don't have time for relationships or dating, but it's been a lonely year here, and I want sex and if you two think you can just choose for me, then I can choose you both.”

The indignant tone in your voice is undercut by the bell on your hat tinkling as you fold your arms across your chest. 

Dave stalks towards you like a creature in the night. “When you say both, do you mean at the same time? I mean, I'm game. I don't know about, Tex, here.” 

The light brush of his fingers across your cheek makes you tremble. The touch adds weight to his words. That's all this is right now, words. They could just walk about, and nothing would come of it. Then Joel moves, too. With complete purpose, straight at you. The kiss he gives you now is nowhere near as chaste as the last one. It's a burning brand of his desire on you. It leaves no doubt of Joel's intentions towards you. When it ends for a moment, you understand what people mean when they say the earth moved. Until you realised Dave had swept you up in his arms. For a second, that little insecure voice worried about him carrying your extra pounds, but it was left in the metaphorical dust as Dave carried you easily through the snow to your door. 

With shaking fingers, you try to retrieve the keys from your tiny green felt pouch. When you can't, Dave shoves the purse at Joel, who quickly opens the door while Dave gets his first kiss with you. It's a precision assault with his tongue. He knows just the right amount to use to have you breathless. 

The two muscular men block your doorway for a moment when you pull them both in at the same time. Following your lead and using the momentum, the two of them press you into the wall opposite. Dave’s thigh presses between your legs as the two of them kiss your neck. Joel's work hardened hand is gentle as it cups your breasts in turn, thumbing each nipple as he goes. The arousal the action brings jerks your hips into Dave’s tensed thigh. 

“You're needy, huh?” Dave teases with his words, and then his hands as he cups your mound. His fingers are spread just so to tease without giving you friction where you need it most.

“Please.” You whisper against Joel's lips as he kisses you once more. 

Joel doesn't tease. His thick fingers hitch your skirt up and dive below the waistband of your tights and panties. The first sweep of his fingertips where you need him has your toes curling in your little elf shoes.

“So we're just diving straight in?” Dave shrugs as he drops to his knees. 

His moves are no longer light, but they are just as calculated. Ripping the gusset out of your festive tights, he pulls your panties to the side and fills you with two thick digits. A quick come hither motion makes your knees buckle, and Joel pins you up with his hip. With you nestled into his side, Joel takes full advantage of exclusive access to your lips. These kisses are less urgent. He delicately gets to know what you like. Just as he does with his movements on your clit. He follows every whimper and moan changing his pace and pressure to suit. Dave on the other hand has found the spot he's looking for and is relentlessly pumping his fingers in and out. The noise is obscene in your picturesque little hallway. The cusses that spill from your lips as you come around Dave’s fingers are even worse. 

“With a mouth like that, you're definitely on the naughty list.” Joel grins, his eyes full of adoration. They darken for a second before he whispers in your ear. “You need your mouth washed out.”

“I hear Paris is lovely this time of year.” Dave chimes in, in between licking your release off of his fingers. 

With a plan in mind, the three of you end up in your bedroom. Clothes had all been shed on the way. Some you'd pulled off yourselves. Some had been torn off by others. Somehow, you had ended up on the bed looking up at the two beautifully naked men. Joel was broad and thick with a dark trail of curls leading down to his long, girthy cock. Dave was more lean but no less muscular. His hair was neatly trimmed around the base of his longer, thinner, curved cock. 

After you take your time to appreciate them, you reach for them. They lay on either side of you. Their hands run over every inch of your plush flesh. As they kiss, lick and nibble their way over every curve until you are dizzy with need. 

Eventually, Joel's hand skims between your legs. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, returning his hand there to feel the wetness pooling. 

Dave doesn't need any more feedback. He has you ready on your knees before you know it. His cock waiting at your entrance for any signal that you have changed your mind. The only signal you give him is sliding back down his length. You expect some smartass remark, all he gives you is a long moan as he fully bottoms out. You think you might get a softer side of Dave, until he starts thrusting hard and deep. He is so relentless that when Joel brings his weeping tip to your lips you don't even have to think about your movements, your lips just part around him and the movement of your whole body has your head bobbing around him. Only when his thick head nudges your throat do you think to bring your hand, lips, and tongue into play if only to allow you to breathe if nothing else. Dave’s balls slap against you violently as you cup Joel's gently kneading them. Joel whines at the act and threads his hand into your hair. It's more of a caring gesture than a dominant one. His thumb caresses the side of your head. Dave’s thrusts are maddeningly accurate. The pleasure is building rapidly. You don't know how much strength you'll have left once your orgasm hits. You can already tell it will be all consuming and leave you boneless. Desperately, you work Joel harder with your hand. It glides up and down his girth with ease from all the drool they have forced from you. Sucking him into your throat, you trace the thick vein of his shaft with your tongue. Your moans escalate and come out muffled. Dave grunts are pure filth as he nears his climax. Joel leaves you perplexed when he pulls his cock out.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He pants as he starts fucking his own fist. “Is Dave making you feel good? Is he working my pussy right?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, god.” You grip the sheets beneath you hovering on the edge of oblivion. 

“Fuck. You know he's just getting a taste, right? That that little cunt is mine afterwards?” The groan that comes from Joel's chest makes you clamp down around Dave. 

“Oh, shit. She likes that. Fuck. Fuck.” Dave's movements speed up clearly on the edge of spilling into you. 

“Yeah? You like me talking about how that cunt is mine? Be a good girl and milk his cock for all it's worth.” Your body listens to Joel before you even process his words. 

“Fuuuuck. Ugh.” Dave gasps as he fills you with rope after rope of his cum. He carries on thrusting until he's soft, driving his seed deep.

“Tongue out.” Joel groans.

You react just in time to catch the second spurt across your face. 

“Oh. Ohh.” Joel's hand keeps fisting his cock until he is thoroughly wrung out. His cum covers your cheeks and chin.

As post orgasm clarity sets in, Joel silently hands you his shirt to clean up while Dave wanders off to find his clothes. 

The Christmas festival in Honeymire seems like a lifetime ago. In reality, it has only been a year. The cosy chair that once looked out over the town now looks out over the skyline of the city. The view that your promotion bought you in your dream penthouse apartment. Everything had gone to plan. With maybe a couple of exceptions.

“Hey, Mama, we're home.” The familiar voice of your boyfriend calls from the front door while he kicks off his shoes.

“Hi, was my baby good? Were you a good girl?” You coo as you pick the carrier up to check on the furry occupier while she can't sculk away from your affection. 

“She was great. The new vet gave her a clean bill of health. I had a hard time explaining why she's called ‘Freeloader’.” Joel kisses your cheek after hanging up his jacket. 

“She eats my food, growls at me and has a weird way of showing her affection. What else would I call her?” You shrug.

“In my experience? Ellie.” Joel snorts.

You muse as you let your furry dependant loose. “They do have the same ‘cross me and I'll cut you’ vibe. Even if they are both adorable with it.” 

Joel smiles broadly at the thought of the challenging teen who managed to get into environmental law. “Yeah. I'm just glad she's channeling that energy into saving the world.”

The prideful look on Joel's face makes you love him even more. You can't  help but cuddle into him. “Speaking of, when are the girls leaving Tommy's after Christmas?”

Joel thinks for a moment. “The 29th. Why?”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you nonchalantly reply. “Nothing. Just Dave texted and asked if we wanted to spend New Year's in Paris.”

[starrycassi]

I think a lot of young queers folks (like me. Not trying to be all elderly about this I'm literally a gen z) today need to watch the good oldies about our community.

⚠️: I don't mean, in any way shape or form to insult the newer queer shows/movies. I love SPOP. I love TOH. I read and loved Heart stopper. However, because of the restraint of mainstream media, they have a very... palatable?? way to portray the community. I am NOT blaming the creators (who I'm sure would love to go a bit further down on their portrayals if given the option)

SO! I have nice recommendations that I, personally, enjoy a lot. They're in no particular order.

A classic, for starters. But I'm a cheerleader!: Very campy, barbie-y, funny and free on YouTube. A cheerleader is sent to a conversation camp when her social circle realizes that she might be into girls. (It has a very unrealistic portrayal of conversation camps, though. Very cartoony) my comfort movie fr fr

Priscilla, queen of the desert: A trio of drag queens travel across the desert on a big, old bus. They fight, there's some falling in love. They talk a lot about gender identity, queer childhoods and similar topics. I've only been able to find this one (and most of the ones on this list, since I don't have any streaming devices) on illegal websites. There's very, very direct homophobia, SA, physical abuse, child neglect, yk, the American dream. The queens are the funnier thing ever, the romance plotlines are absolutely delightful and well-rounded. Focuses a bit more on the community itself and interpersonal relationships. All around, a solid 10/10.

Kinky boots: A very prude, engaged man inherits a shoe fabric. He's running out of ideas to stay in business, until he meets a drag queen. Same warnings (and themes!) as the last one. This one has a stronger focus on how the characters become more accepting and how our queen navigates being faced with them. I've rewatched it like a hundred times.

The birdcage (2000's) or le cauge aux folles (1970'): A gay couple runs a drag club. Their son brings home a conservative girlfriend and her family. This is more comedy lenient, but funny as fuck nonetheless.

Paris is burning: this one is a documentary, btw. Focuses on the life of drag queens in the 80's. Nothing I didn't already say on Priscilla tbh.

Saving face: A chinese-american girl that lives in a VERY conservatory and secluded community is trying (and failing) not to fall in love with a ballerina. At the same time, her mother (a widow, how scandalous!) gets mysteriously pregnant and gets kicked out of their family home. This one will hit close to home if you're from any ethnic, homophobic household. Cried a lot. Then cried some more. Happy ending, though!

D.E.B.S: THIS IS THE FUNNIEST, CUTEST MOVIE EVER. It's a full on romance comedy for when the mind is a bit too tired! The main plot is that, in a school of girls being trained to be top-notch spies (very totally spies type) a girl who's the top of her class falls in love with the biggest villainess they ever faced. More of a coming of age thing, that also explores the good old dilemma of choosing what the hell you're supposed to do with your life once you turn 18 (relatable tbh)

And now, for a book (in Spanish, though) we have "Las Malas": Narrated by a trans, poor prostitute. Extremely realistic in its narrative voice, cruel and very hurtful sometimes. This is actually one of my favorite books ever, it's so fucking underrated that I'm going to die if no one reads it. There's EVERYTHING. It genuinely drives me crazy to read this. We have queer moms, a child found in a freezing park, suicides, literally anything happens. I love it.

If anyone has any suggestions PLEASE drop them. I'm begging u

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 1

🎋The footprints he etched on the earth

Bokuto x f!reader

Prequel : 🌌The stars he left in the sky (can be read as a standalone)

Summary : The stars he left in the sky are nothing compared to the footprints he etched on the earth.

or when you meet bokuto koutarou and wonder if you’ve ever truly known beauty before him.

Context warning: time skip setting, ex!oikawa, alcohol consumption, swearing, a lot of french words sorry

Words count: 3.1k

chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4

You’re grateful for the life you’ve been given. You’re healthy, you have a loving family with supportive parents and a funny little brother. You’ve worked hard to become a pâtissière and had great opportunities in Europe. But right now, as your boss argues that a Tatin tart and a Normande tart are essentially the same thing, you can’t help but think the gods are conspiring against you.

“Huh? What’s the problem? They both have apples in them,” he dares insisting.

You’ve studied in Paris. Paris, France. Alongside the best chefs in the world. And yet, here you are, being contradicted by a fifty-something man on something so basic. You’re not just being told you’re wrong, but in front of colleagues and even a few customers.

So, yes, you’re grateful for your life. But you’d be even more grateful if you could punch that man in the face. Of course, you won’t. You can’t. You need this job to pay your bills, your rent (because Tokyo is expensive), and to save for building the pâtisserie you’ve dreamed of for years. You know exactly what it’ll look like—where the counter will be, what colour the walls will be. Everything is planned, except for one detail: how and where you’ll actually get the place.

You force out an apology. It’s painfully obvious that it isn’t sincere, but you bow anyway, hoping it hides your annoyed expression. Then, you retreat to the back room because the croissants are ready and even though you hate your boss, you hate letting food burn in the oven more.

Days have felt repetitive since you arrived in Tokyo six months ago. Your routine begins at 4 a.m., with a quick breakfast. Most mornings, your roommate, Umi, is still awake, surrounded by her mountain of medical textbooks. You don’t know how she manages to decipher the words in her books because the light from her desk is dim (well, that might be the reason why she’s using glasses now).

“I’ll be back around five,” you say, even though she knows your schedule by heart.

“Got it. Have a good day!”

“And have a good night,” you reply with a smile.

The walk to the bakery is usually pleasant. You love seeing the sunrise over Tokyo—except now it’s May, and the weather is horrible. Still, you’ve never regretted moving here. You remember your professor in Paris warning you about how tough and unfair the culinary world can be, especially for women. It didn’t deter you. You’ve never wanted fame; you just want to open a pâtisserie and make people happy with your creations. For now, though, gaining more experience is your priority, so you work at a well-known bakery in Shibuya.

It’s only temporary, it’s only temporary, you often need to remind yourself—especially on tough days like today.

You don’t think you’re gaining a lot of practical skills but at least, you’ve learned a bit of humility here (no matter how forced and unfair it feels).

When you return home that evening, you’re not expecting much. When Umi comes home later, she often brings groceries or takeout. For someone who bakes, you’re surprisingly terrible at cooking savoury dishes. Umi discovered this shortly after you moved in, watching you struggle to roast vegetables or boil an egg.

Weeks of your culinary disasters led her to casually take over dinner duties. Ever since then, she’s been the one in charge and seems satisfied with it. You don’t mind—it’s a fair trade, especially since she’s a great cook.

“My dad was awful in the kitchen, so I had to take over cooking for me and my siblings,” she once explained. “I also had two neighbours who played sports. I made bentos for them all the time. I mean, I used to help their mother make them, she’s the one who taught me everything about cooking. One of the twins would help, but the other was a total ungrateful bastard who just ate everything.”

In return, you sneak pastries home from your workplace (a small rebellion against your boss) and make pancakes on the weekends.

Tonight, you’ve just stepped out of the shower when Umi bursts through the door.

“Hiii!” she exclaims brightly. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you reply, keeping it short.

You’re usually good at hiding negative emotions—your teachers in Paris were brutally harsh at times, and showing weakness only invited more criticism (maybe even exclusion) . But with Umi, it’s different. She has an uncanny ability to read people’s feelings and make you feel comfortable with those feelings.

“I grew up with two younger siblings, an introverted best friend, and childhood friends who were all boys,” she told you. “I’ve basically seen every version of emotional repression there is.”

So, it doesn’t take her long to figure out you’re upset.

“Bad day?” she asks. “Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s just… my boss,” you mutter.

“What did that old geezer do this time?”

You sigh. “He was wrong about something, I tried to explain that he made a mistake but he just looked down on me. But I’m not surprised, he would rather die than admit that a girl like me is right… But honestly, it’s not just him. It’s the industry. It’s always like this.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird how everyone just accepts it and nothing changes.” She lets out a dramatic groan. “You know what the problem is? Men.”

You chuckle at that, it’s her usual response to every issue (not that you would deny it though).

You slump into the chair and press your face against the palm of your hand, when she suddenly pulls out a bottle of red wine from her bag.

You raise an eyebrow.

“You know I’m not that desperate to the point where I need to drink to deal with a bad day, right?”

“This isn’t about your bad day,” she grins. “It’s about celebrating.”

“Celebrating what? My shitty boss?”

“Let me explain!” she says, rushing to the kitchen to grab glasses. “You know my childhood friend, the one with the restaurant in Osaka?”

“The twin who isn’t an ungrateful bastard?”

“Yes, but his name is Osamu, I already told you. Anyway, a shop next to his restaurant just closed, and the landlady is looking to sell. Osamu knows her and I mentioned you’re looking for a place to open your bakery.”

You open your mouth to correct her (it’s a pâtisserie not a bakery!) but decide to you let her finish instead.

“He said he could arrange a meeting for you. Interested?”

Osaka. You’ve never been there, but the idea intrigues you. People from Kansai are known for their warmth and humour—so different from the quiet of your hometown in Miyagi. Change might be good, you find yourself thinking.

“Sure, I’d be interested,” you say cautiously (in case it doesn't work, don't get your hopes up).

“Great! Osaka is the best, and I know people there who can help you settle in. I’d recommend looking at apartments in—”

“Umi, I haven’t even seen the place yet.”

“Don’t worry,” she says confidently. “Just make them try your strawberry and cream tart. No one can say no to that!”

You laugh. “You mean the fraisier?”

“Gods, yes. Just use that sexy French accent of yours, and they’ll agree in no time.”

“Whatever you say,” you can’t help but laugh a little. “The wine is French, huh?”

She pours a generous amount into your glass, “of course. Last time I brought Californian you almost killed me.”

You take a look at the bottle to check if she’s telling the truth. You nod proudly and she smiles back.

“To your bakery!” She raises her glass and so do you.

A few days later, after pretending to be bedridden by a sudden and debilitating cold to take a fews days off from work (to which your boss complains), you find yourself standing at the station ready to leave for Osaka.

Umi had given you everything you needed: Miya Osamu's number, his address, and an enthusiastic list of typical Kansai expressions.

When you arrive there, you immediately search for “Onigiri Miya” on your phone. When you check it you are nothing but impressed by the 5 stars behind the name and the hundred and hundred of good comments.

Will you also get that someday?

Will your pâtisserie gather many people and be a place of happiness?

You try not to think too much about it, because with the flicker of hope comes fear, and you don’t have time to be negative. You have to move forward and put on a brave face, that’s what you’ve been taught.

As you step off the train and start to look for the right bus, a voice calls out behind you.

“Yer Umi’s roommate, right?”

You turn around to see a man with short brown hair. There’s a relaxed air about him that makes you feel comfortable.

“Miya-san?” you assume.

“The good one, yeah,” he replies with a boyish smile. You think his Kansai accent adds an easy charm to his voice.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come. I could have taken the bus, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nah, yer not. Follow me.”

He offers to carry your bag and leads you to his car, parked just outside the station.

The ride is mostly food-related, he tells you about his business. How he started as the employee of an old man who had a ramen restaurant, which eventually became his. How he transformed it into an onigiri restaurant before opening a second shop recently in Tokyo.

“Why onigiri?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He thinks for a moment. “I guess… it reminds me of home. My Ma’ used to make ’em all the time when we were kids. And I love makin’ ’em myself. Like, physically usin’ my hands. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” you say with a small smile. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about your mother’s cooking.”

“It’s the best,” he says, and his tone turns soft. “Though, she didn’t really teach me much about baking. That’s why I’m impressed by what ya do.”

His compliment takes you by surprise, you restrain yourself from smiling with all your teeth.

You meet the landlady the minute you step out of the car. She listens to you carefully and even though you try not to overthink it, she seems more than happy at the idea of opening a French pâtisserie in the neighbourhood.

Osamu mentions after the meeting how you definitely “won her over with how detailed and motivated ya were.”

You don’t tell him that it only makes sense because you’ve dreamed of owning a place for years. You’ve imagined everything, thought about it during sleepless nights and overworked days. It is the lighthouse that guided you through heartbreaks and homesickness. So when the opportunity presents itself, there’s no way you wouldn’t give your all.

“I hope she’ll accept my project,” you simply answer.

“D’ya want onigiri?” The man offers.

You obviously accept (Umi dragged about how delicious they were, you need to find out whether that is true or not) and thank him again. He brushes it off with a “Umi’s friends are my friends and I’m always happy to feed people.”

His shop is warm and welcoming, and his food is delightful. You might yourself add a five-star review on Google.

“I never thought a rice ball could be that good,” you say with a mouth full of food.

“Rice balls? Ya don’t know how much time it took me to master that.”

Right, you don’t know, but you can only imagine. The culinary world isn’t only competitive and cruel. It’s sweat and tears, years of making to perfect a simple recipe. It’s giving your entire being into your crafts only to hear people say “well, that mustn’t be too difficult to make.”

But it’s also pride and art. Not a day goes by when you aren’t excited to try a new combination: replace wheat flour with almond flour for the brioches, add a spoonful of orange blossom to your cream puffs, and the list is long. And if you make someone happy, if they ask to have a second piece of your cake, that’s when you know the sweat and the tears aren’t that important.

You crave to build your pâtisserie, the same way Osamu built his restaurant (with warmth and love), and taste what it’s like to pour your heart into something tangible and undeniably yours.

Things move faster than you’d anticipated. The landlady approves your proposal, the bank grants your loan, and within the span of a week, you exchange your resignation letter with a lease and a pair of keys.

You’re sad to leave Umi, she is too.

“I’ll come whenever I can.” She says with a sad smile.

“I’ll sneak pastries for you,” you wink in return and when you hug, she congratulates you and tells you (for the tenth time) that you deserve it. You think a tear escapes your eyes.

Your newfound property is empty and cold. And when you open the door for the first time you realise that it might require a lot of work.

But Osamu is there every step of the way. He kindly offers advice and helps you with renovations. You’re a bit embarrassed by how much he’s done so far and at the same time, you know you have to take everything there is to make that place great. So it becomes a routine for him to cross the road from his shop to yours at the end of his shift to give you a hand.

“Yer makin’ the right choice,” he says one evening as you both sit outside Onigiri Miya, sharing a quick meal after a day of painting walls and changing seals. “That place is gonna bring in plenty of tourists and locals.”

You glance at him, there are nerves swirling in your chest. “I hope so.”

“Ya are. Trust me. Yer gonna have queues and queues of people.”

You hide your nerves with sarcasm, “And if they’re tired of waiting, I’ll tell them that there's a not-too-bad onigiri restaurant in front of my shop. Just so you know, time passes faster.”

He sneers at that, “’Not too bad’, ya sound like my brother.”

“Don’t know the guy but that didn’t seem to be a compliment.”

“That wasn’t.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs in return.

The hardest part of the renovation happens to be the most important one: the kitchen. You’re knee-deep in setting up the oven when you realise that maybe, you might need more people to assemble to equipment.

“I can find two or three more biceps to help,” Osamu tells you when he finds you trying to lift the 250-pound fridge by yourself.

“Yeah, I guess that would be useful,” you say breathlessly.

The next morning, you arrive early. Not as early as Osamu it seems since you see him standing outside your shop, hands in his pockets and wearing a sports suit (the clothes are unusual on him, you think). The closer you get, the blonder his hair looks. The sun has barely rise, and you blame the light for it.

You immediately call out, “Miya-san?”

He turns around, “Oh, hey!”

“You could have come later, you know. I was planning on cleaning a little bit before you arrived.”

“Don’t worry," he shakes his head, “’Samu would have killed me if I had been late.”

“Samu?”

And then, just as quickly, Osamu (the real one) shows up and for a second, you’re confused.

“Good morning,” he says before pointing to the other man, “seems like ya just met my brother.”

“I’m Atsumu.” The blond guy extends his hand to you and your knitted brows probably gives away your confusion. “Don’t tell me ya thought I was ‘Samu?”

Of course that’s his brother, you idiot. You curse yourself.

“Sorry. You guys look similar,” you say, but it’s not quite an excuse for your mistake.

They both share a glance before laughing and you think you just sounded stupid because obviously, they look alike, they’re fucking twins. You reason yourself by thinking that it’s very much early and that you’re not fully awake.

“We’re very different. I mean, our bodies aren’t built the same since I’m a professional athlete and ‘Samu’s not. I’ve always been the smartest one too.” He crosses his arms to his chest.

Osamu rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. You’ll learn the difference soon enough. I’m the serious one.” He gestures to his brother. “He’s the disaster.”

Atsumu shrugs dramatically. “Hey, the world needs a little chaos, ya shithead!”

You can’t help but laugh despite the tension between them.

“Where’s the fridge?”

“I think we should wait for him; it will be easier if we’re four,” Osamu tells his brother. You didn’t know another person would come, you want to ask about them but Atsumu interferes before you can open your mouth.

“I’m pretty sure I can manage on my own, I’m a-”

“Professional athlete. I think we got it ‘Tsumu so can ya shut the fuck up now?”

You fear Atsumu will jump his brother if you don’t stop them.

“What sport?” You ask hurriedly before he can take a step towards Osamu.

“Volleyball. I’m the starting setter of the National Team.”

“Thought Tobio-kun was.”

The older twin glowers at the younger one.

“I’m impressed Atsumu-san, I actually know a professional setter.”

“Who?” The man’s eyes widen, and you decipher not only curiosity but competition on his face (typical man behaviour).

“He’s not in Japan though. But maybe you’ve heard of him, his name is Oika-”

“My bad Sam-sam, I walked past that place.”

A man enters the room. He is a bit sweaty and his hair, grey and raven, is falling on his forehead. 

“Did ya run to come here?” Osamu raises an eyebrow at him.

He grins and scratches the back of his neck nervously, “I took the wrong street.”

“But it’s the same as Onigiri Miya.”

“But it’s always Omi-Omi who guides us here. I never came on my own,” he pouts.

“Thank you for coming,” you hear yourself say and that’s when he finally sees you. His pout immediately disappears.

You think he is handsome. He and his golden eyes. But it’s only a sample of his beauty because when he replies “of course,” with his smile all bright and warm, you’re mesmerised.

It’s almost instinctive, the way you can’t look away. It’s like an effortless intake of air. Like your eyes seem to be glued to his features, and soon enough, to his arms and the way the muscles contract slightly when he offers his hand for you to shake it.

“I'm Bokuto,” he grins. “Nice to meet you.”

“Bokkun, yer hands are all dirty. She’s a lady.”

“Oops, Tsum-Tsum is right. Where can I wash them?” He asks you and hides his hands behind his back.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. The room is filled with silence for a very long minute before Osamu finally decides to show him the way.

Why are you disappointed? Why did you want so badly to shake his hand?

Perhaps because it’s too early for your mind to function properly.

Your brain tries to go for that answer (your beating heart whispers something else).

“Should we start workin’”? Atsumu proposes and you nod.

Well, it seems like you’re stuck with two bickering brothers and this god-like man named Bokuto.

(This is going to be a good day, you think discretely).

author notes: okay so this was supposed to be a one-shot but it will be a 3 or 4 chapters story haha

(writing this made me very hungry btw)

[otrtbs]

Hi I hope you're doing well 🌷

I had a question. I'm totally asking out of pure curiosity, it's not a criticism or anything of the sort.

In ahb (this masterpiece of yours) Sirius's favorite painting is Degas' Dancers.

I wanted to know if you knew the background of this painting and if making it Sirius' favorite was a deliberate choice or if you had no idea at all.

Because the Ballerinas in Opera Garnier in Paris were all really young and mostly, they were poor. The dancers were often their family's hope to crawl out of misery.

The audience was full of men.

In fact, the sad flip side was that there was a whole prostitution network behind the scene. With these young girls. Men could pay for backstage access to watch ballerinas change and sometimes rape them.

So Degas was a big customer.

That's how he painted the dancers and most of his works.

That's again how he sculpted the ballerina, her tutu was added meaning the 14 year old girl was posing nude.

Degas is also suspected of being Jack the Ripper, there are a certain number of credible leads and potential evidences.

That's why I was wondering if you knew.

Since there is this whole chapter where they insult Picasso (as they should) I found it strange that Degas being a known major p*do did not receive the same treatment.

Ps: I'm french, I don't know if I made any mistakes writing this, if I have please excuse me I tried my best 🙏

Okay hi, hello! I am doing well and I hope you are as well! You have unlocked Art Historian Thesis Nat, so I am going to put an extremely lengthy post under the cut, I'm so sorry (this is literally my area of study,,, i fear i am incapable of being brief about this)

I do want to clarify that right off the bat, I don't necessarily think many of these art historical figures are "good people". Like none of them are the best, most moral, upstanding citizens you should model your life after (but they're also dead sooooo). But I also understand that I did take some time in my fanfiction to make my hatred for Picasso very clear, and so I can also understand the confusion in not extending that same hatred towards Degas. But there are a few reasons for that, that I'll try to explain below!

The direct historical documentation of Pablo Picasso's violence towards the women in his life is vast and damning. If you want particularly good insight into his violence and abuse, then I recommend reading Marina Picasso's (Picasso's granddaughter) memoir titled: Picasso: My Grandfather. I also recommend Françoise Gilot's (romantic partner of Picasso) books, Life with Picasso and Picasso and Matisse. It is through the memories of the people who loved Picasso and who loved him in turn, that we hear of his sadistic nature that drove his lovers to suicide and we get personal letters that he wrote to Gilot in which he says things like "Dora, for me, was always a weeping woman… And it’s important, because women are suffering machines" and "For me there are only two kinds of women: goddesses and doormats." His granddaughter has this to say about him: “He submitted [women] to his animal sexuality, tamed them, bewitched them, ingested them, and crushed them onto his canvas. After he had spent many nights extracting their essence, once they were bled dry, he would dispose of them.” And Gilot says: "I am the only one to not have been sacrificed to the sacred monster(…) and is alive to tell the tale. He was a wonderful person to be with, it was like fireworks, amazingly creative, so intelligent and seductive(…) but he was also very cruel, sadistic and ruthless with others and with himself (…) It was the greatest love of my life, but you have to protect yourself (…) The others did not, they clung to the powerful minotaur and paid a very high price."

Why this matters: The evidence for Degas being so virulently misogynistic and cruel towards women is extremely less substantial and more speculative in nature.

Degas being Jack the Ripper. Degas being Jack the Ripper started off as a tiktok theory posed in early 2024, (though you can find an article as early as 2004 written by The Guardian's art critic here) and while fun to think about and speculate, it isn't true. August and September and November of 1888 is when the Jack the Ripper crimes were committed in London and Degas was in the South of France at that time receiving medical treatment because he was in extremely poor health. (Which you can find in The Letters of Edgar Degas edited by Theodore Reff (I'm sure there's. free PDF version out there somewhere)). Also, self-admittedly speculative, but Degas didn't visit the East-End of London when he did make his excursions to London because he was classist 😭. So, it would be odd for him to know the ins and outs of the streets where the murders took place. And also he had failing eyesight starting at 36, so the odds of him being Jack the Ripper are extremely slim.

The Ballerinas Yes, while it is true that the ballerina's were often subject to horrific conditions and were prostitutes for the "wealthy" patrons of the opera house, this does not mean that Degas partook in that. in fact, most historical documentation surmises he didn't. Degas considered himself a "realist" painter rather than an impressionist painter, wishing to document "real life" in all of its ugliness, beauty and unstylized truth. Therefore his primary concern was documenting the opera house and ballet in all of the moments, not just when the girls were dancing on stage. And in many of his paintings, Degas captures the opera patronsn in his ballerina paintings as lurkers behind the stage curtains as sinister black shadows, or as men predatorily watching in nice suits (e.g. Ballet, 1876 and The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage (1874)). But Degas himself, was NEVER a ballerina patron, he is even quoted as saying "People call me the painter of dancing girls. It has never occurred to them that my chief interest in dancers lies in rendering movement...". (now this is not because Degas was morally outraged at what was happening to the ballerina's, but because he viewed the men abusing the girls as committing a sin against God by sleeping with prostitutes). But while Degas had access to backstage, he was never a customer. And in fact, Degas is a notorious, well-documented celibate. This is because Degas believed sleeping with women would make him lose his special painting ability. No lie. Here's a direct quote from Vincent Van Gogh in his a letter to his brother Theo about the artist: "Degas lives like a little lawyer and does not like women, for he knows that if liked them and went to bed with them, he would become intellectually diseased and would no longer be able to paint." Degas was also known to reject ballerina's advances as well (again, fearing women would take away his magic painting power).

Feelings towards women By all accounts, Degas friends describe him as being reclusive towards women to being jovial with them, but always kind to them outside of a working environment. He even developed friendships with his fellow contemporary women painters. In a working environment, Degas was obsessed with perfection, demanding ballerinas contort their bodies in painful positions, and making them hold those positions for hours at a time. By all accounts, this was not because he hated them, but was obsessed with capturing their movements, the limitations of the human body, and he demanded perfection from himself. (x x x) (i.e. his obsession for his work and drive for perfection as a painter made him demanding and harsh towards his subjects, not his pure hatred of women).

Conclusions: So by many accounts, Degas was not particularly fond of women, and had little regard for his dancers. But the claims that he must have slept with the ballerina's and been a patron/customer "because that's what all men did back then" are not backed by any evidence. only evidence to the contrary. I went in on Picasso because those that were close to him have written first-hand accounts of his monstrocity. This is not the case with Degas. So, while I didn't tear him down like I did Picasso, I wasn't lauding him as a saint either. I highly recommend reading the article called Degas's Misogyny by Norma Broude which details the ways in which modern times have run away with this idea of Degas being a sadistic woman-hater and how we've gotten to this point. Anyway, TLDR; I was aware of the dark "underside" of the Paris Ballet at the time in which Degas was painting his works. Do I think he is Jack the Ripper and a man who participated in ballerina prostitution? No, not at all. At the end of the day, I am just an art history girl, telling anyone who will listen that there is not enough documentation on Degas to take these claims as 100% truth, or put that man up there with Picasso. Peace and Love! <3