#why would you spend so much time of your life putting products on your face that are contributing to your acne

[b1asho]

Erm, oc comic? Just click on the images idk how to change the image position formatting here yet :(

This is what I've been doing all this time, I need to practice putting these things together. I like some things and had fun, but it also looks kind of yucky.

Oh well

Featured here are Rinshi, a muttreazik, and their boss/sister Maro, a Sundyne who's been (violently) ousted from her extremely politically important clan (for terrorism and attempted assassination :D )

The two are hiding from authorities in the SEZ, and not having a great time in general.

Here's a buncha other info, aka i want to talk about my wretched ocs :

-Rinshi is a mancer, meaning they're a muttreazik with a degree of control over matter around them (think telekinesis). Their blue eyes aren't the result of my choice of coloring, thats the color they are all the time (a highly highly unusual color for muttreazik, even in the 'other' color category).

Rinshi is also a 'they' in the same way you'd call an animal an 'it' rather than a 'he' or 'she' if that makes sense. They don't think of themself as nonbibary in the human sense, instead it's more of an "outside of the binary and therefore a nonperson" way that Cerest use for xenos. It's the only option that's not male/female/he/she that they're aware of in this point in their life

Maro is a she (and VERY upset that it means she can't ascend to God emperor)

Rinshi is hunting with a nail that they’re controlling with their mind because that’s a lot easier than chasing down the alien rats yourself.

Normally this would be very easy for them but they’re kind of going through it right now, thus the major space-out and eye-bleed at the end (which normally happens to mancers who either overextend themselves or try to do stuff without any energy support from the body)

Not all Cerest-homeplanet animals have a decentralized nervous system like Cerest themselves do (such as these two animals, who have all their thinking meat in their head), but either way a shard of metal through the face isn’t good for anything

There are pockets of Cerest wildlife in the SEZ if you look for them hard enough, which Rinshi has to do because they’re currently in the outer reaches of it away from any inhabited districts where you could just buy/steal meat products. They're spending a considerable amount of time doing this since they're trying to keep a large hypercarnivore alive right now.

Maro got her face and torso cut up pretty bad during her.uh. Incident. Luckily Cerest heal fast, though infection and only eating rats has complicated and prolonged things. They’re currently living in an old habitat pod, which she can hardly leave thanks to the healing process (which has left her pretty much unable to walk. If she could, she'd definitely be the one doing the hunting because she has fewer qualms about killing things than rinshi does.)

This conversation is pretty out of character for her, but like she said, it's boring spending most of your time asleep in a garbage heap rather than pursuing your ambitions of ruling the world. Thankfully, she can always just ask her trusty retainer about things they don’t want to talk about.

‘et kerusit’ is just the Cerest version of like ‘my liege’ but specifically in the Sundyne female context and specifically for someone in Maro’s (former) rank/position in her (former) clan. "Princess" is also a pretty close analog but neither really sounded right so I made up some words. "Retainer” is the closest word I could find for what Rinshi is to Maro, and it fits fairly well (there is probably a better word out there but i like the old-timey knight vibe) they were originally employed to her clan as basically her little assistant and mandatory friend/bodygaurd/ally/etc. This happened mostly as an insult to her because that role should normally fall to a fellow sundyne and not a 'lesser species', but she has made it work.

I'm still testing this out but the Cerest language conventions are also why the question marks are out front most of the time, they don't change tone to indicate a question and instead just say an "I'm asking you a question" word at the start.

Rinshi also has a sort of stutter no matter what language they're speaking, with different words and sounds causing prolongations or repetitions. They didn't have any kind of support for the issue growing up, so theyre not great at managing it. So that's why some of their words are like that

The aforementioned rank difference is also why Maro gets 2 << instead of 1 when speaking (she's using a different enunciation of words to indicate her status, as is Rinshi. Basically ï for royalty i for commoner, or something. If they were speaking a Drecu dialect rather than a Sundyne one, their words would be in these things -> [[ ) .

As I’ve mentioned up there, they see each other more like siblings in their own mini clan (but she definitely calls the shots in their relationship )

Muttreazik think rebirth is real and they’re kind of right (at least within their own species). Rinshi does NOT want to dwell on where they used to live but those ideas were drilled in at a very young age.

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

idk if its just me but i dont actually dig hyperfeminine super-made up glossy girls. like i can appreciate makeup skills but it doesnt tend make you more attractive to me. ill have a sleepy messy girl with visible acne scars whos not brushed her hair in a week anyday over the kind of girl who has to do her makeup everyday in order to feel worthy. glitz and glamour girls dont do it for me give me butches who havent touched a tube of makeup in 15 years. give me short eyelashes and cracked lips and raised spots and unkempt hair. give me girls who genuinely look like they just rolled out of bed. on the other hand though it gets attractive to me again when its clearly makeup done just for the fun of it, to make you look like a freak of nature. makeup done for the opposite of the male gaze. drag artists and ppl who look like theyve just rolled in a mountain of glitter. thats attractive to me again the sort of overtly doing over the top makeup as an art and self expression (rather than to blend in and look femininely attractive). 2 ends of the scale are beautiful to me but the stuff in the middle isnt. idk if that makes sense

[eumppattv]

you’re so sweet ❀˖° ot7 enha 𖦹

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ cute things they do in a relationship

enha ୨ৎ reader fluff headcanon masterlist engene zone an: requests are open!

heeseung ۶ৎ make you cute messages on minecraft

as the gamer he is, heeseung spends a lot of his free time on his pc. as the boyfriend he is, he spends even more time involving you in said gaming as much as he can. that’s why when you agreed to play with him, he left you a cute message in your world made with your favorite colored blocks. as time went on, any time you joined his game, he would leave a sweet message outside your shared home.

jay ۶ৎ add your voice to songs

jay was obsessed with every thing about you, but he had to admit your voice had a different effect on him. there was one day where he replayed a voicemail you left him over and over again, smiling to himself in his studio. that’s when he had the idea to add the voicemail to a song he was working on. since then he finds his favorite voice messages and voicemails you’ve sent him, and adds them as intros or background vocals to his tracks.

jake ۶ৎ makes layla bring you things

we all know layla is well trained as it is, but jake decided to take her training a step forward. it all started the day he asked you to be his gf, he had trained layla to bring you a basket with flowers, chocolate, and a letter asking you to be his. since then he gets layla to bring you flowers, or he will give her your bags to bring down the stairs. once he even got layla to bring you coffee, and you still don’t understand how it didn’t spill. it’s the cutest thing ever.

sunghoon ۶ৎ take off guard pics of you

as the photographer he is, sunghoon can’t help but capture the beauty in life. and everything about you was beautiful. he would often bring a small camera to your dates, waiting for the perfect opportunity to capture your essence. like the time you were on a picnic and he took a picture of you petting a dog that ran up to your spot. or the time you were watching a scary movie and he caught you mid scream, although you argue there was no beauty in that one.

sunoo ۶ৎ arrange skincare nights

when it comes to self care, sunoo is the master. he often gave you advice on what products to use, but you would find it difficult to find time for yourself. so, he decided to have skincare nights once a week, where you would do movie nights with face masks, or play games while doing clay masks. he would even apply all his products on you, because he wants to take care of you.

jungwon ۶ৎ pretending to propose while on walks

early into your relationship you figured out that jungwon loved going on walks in his free time- and you decided to accompany him. on one of these walks, you witnessed a proposal and made a joke about how bizarre it was to him. since then jungwon randomly gets on one knee when going on walks, and you laugh every single time. sometimes he would even add a speech, and you would pretend to say yes.

ni-ki ۶ৎ put on music and dance with you

as the dance prodigy he is, ni-ki’s life is not complete without some music. he will shower with music, sleep with music, and when you’re around he will dance with you. you’ll be baking cookies, and he will put some music and pull you away from the batter for a dance break. he’ll guide your body around, moving you to the beat. there’s times where he will play one of his songs, and teach you a small part of their choreography, praising you when you get it right.

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[you-call-it-a-dude]

Call It What You Want Pt. 5

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Summary: it's thanksgiving break and you get to spend some time with Regina. She also meets your family, kinda. And she also comes out to her mom...kinda.

Pairings: Regina George x Fem/Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mentions of sex, emotions and feelings

Notes: hi! So I know it's been a minute and I really appreciate everyone's patience and continued support with this story. Life just got ridiculous and this chapter is also slightly long lol. I have a bunch of requests that I am going to get started on with the intention of getting those out in the coming weeks. I think something I really struggle with is that I love writing longer stories which can put me behind and I think I need to start learning how to cut things short lol. But thank you so much again and I hope you enjoy.

-----

"Ugh, I don't want to go." Regina said, stomping around your room.

It was the morning of thanksgiving and Regina may have fibbed to her parents slightly. She told them her final day of classes was Wednesday and since she had a night class she would come out first thing Thursday morning to celebrate thanksgiving.

The fib, or well big fat lie, was that classes ended on Tuesday and Regina spent Tuesday afternoon through Thursday morning with you at your mom's house.

Your mom went to California to celebrate thanksgiving with your brother, so you both took advantage of the opportunity to have alone time in a space other than one of your dorm rooms.

It was really nice, honestly. You cooked dinner for her Tuesday night. She tried to help, but you both discovered that cooking possibly isn't something she was good at when she almost chopped her fingers off slicing bread for garlic bread.

She did provide plenty of support and some distractions through. Whispering flirty things in your ear and wrapping her arms around you while you cooked and plated your meals.

She did promise you that she can make really good breakfast. She ended up making you probably some of the best scrambled eggs you've ever had on Wednesday morning.

You spend Wednesday afternoon walking around downtown Chicago. Regina insisted on paying for Lyfts for the rest of the day because she just straight up refused to take the train downtown and you refused to drive because trying to find parking down there was a fucking hassle.

You looked at the lit up Christmas tree, took her to the water tower mall to shop, and then she treated you to lunch at this really nice place that you probably couldn't afford on a good day, but you still tried to pay her back anyway. She obviously refused.

You came back to your house and you showered together in your huge walk-in shower.

Which, arguably felt like one of the most intimate moments you've shared so far.

You both laughed and bickered your way through the shower. Someone was always hogging the water for too long, or spraying water in someone's face, and you judged the ridiculous amount of conditioner Regina used in her hair and she gave a long spiel about why that was the necessity amount for her.

But it was perfect because none of it was serious. It was all playful and lighthearted and it made you sad that you didn't have any idea of when you would be able to share another moment like this with her again.

You dried off after the shower, both walking around the house in some sort of state of undress. Regina only in your t-shirt and a pair of underwear and you in a pair of boxers and a tank top.

You watched her do her hair and skincare routine, asking her questions about her expensive products that you had never seen before in your life.

She was patient with you, answering all your questions about her stuff. After she finished, she made you sit on the bathroom counter. She pushed your hair back with one of her microfiber headbands, choosing one that had a bow on it and scrunching her nose up at you and calling you cute after she slipped it on you. She rubbed some of her $500 moisturizer on your face, massaging it into your skin and giving you sweet compliments. She finished off your little face massage with a quick kiss to your lips.

She cleaned her hands off and asked you if you felt any difference between your stuff and hers. You nodded, trying not to let on how fancy you felt with this stuff on your face.

You spent Wednesday evening cuddled up on the couch watching 2000s rom-com movies that she deemed absolutely necessary for you to watch.

You wouldn't tell her how much you enjoyed the movies though. You put up too much of a fight to admit you enjoyed them all.

Wednesday night after the movies was spent in your bed. It consisted of sloppy kisses, your head between Regina's legs, and her nails scraping across your back.

It was hot and sexy in the moment, but in her post orgasm clarity, she realized how badly she scratched you up when she saw bruises forming around the scratches and one of them was bleeding.

She swore loudly when she saw them, clearly torn between being concerned and turned on. She made you sit at the edge of your bed while she cleaned them, pressing soft kisses to your back while she did.

You didn't care that she marked you. You wanted people to know you were hers and you'd be happy to let her do it again. You kinda hoped that she would.

The following morning, Regina stomped around the room, packing her bags with an annoyed pout on her face and complaining about how much she didn't want to go back to her parents' house for the holiday.

"Well, you are always welcome to spend it with me. I'll be at my dad and step mom's." You offered.

She paused, thinking it over seriously.

"Ugh, no. I can't. My dad will get so mad." She threw one of your shirts into her bag and you shook your head at her blatant thievery.

"You can come for dessert? Maybe you can even come back here with me after...?" You suggest and she smirked.

"So what you're saying is, you'll need me to bring you back here and that I can't stay with my family? Oooh, maybe I can use you as an excuse."

"Sure, make them hate me before they even meet me." You tease, scrunching your nose at her.

"I'm just saying! I can tell them we travelled together and we need to travel back together."

"You know you're an adult, right?" You point out. "If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

"It's more complicated than that." She rolled her eyes, catching an attitude with you now.

"Don't get grumpy with me." You say firmly with your eyebrows furrowed and somehow she manages to roll her eyes even harder at you. "Look, if you have to stay then stay. I get it. I'm just letting you know you're invited to my dad's and you're welcome to spend the rest of your break here with me. Okay? No need to get mad at me about it."

"Okay, yeah. Fine."

"Okay, yeah. Fine." You mock playfully, making a face at her and putting your hands on her hips.

"I fucking hate when you do that mocking shit. Grow up." She said, putting all her hygiene products in her bag and shifting her hips out of your grip.

"Good grief. Are you gonna get all closed off and homophobic on me now because you have to spend time with your family?" You say boldly, crossing your arms. She whips her head around to look at you, narrowing her eyes. You swallow thickly and ignore the tingling sensation that look sent between your thighs and focus more on the fact at how mad she looked right now. "S-sorry. I'm sorry. I was just joking, but I am now recognizing I shouldn't have said that." You say quickly, but sincerely.

You really needed to learn that some of your little jokey jokes that may bode over well with your gay friends, might hit a sore spot for your very much closeted girlfriend.

"No, I-you're right. I'm kind of just having a really hard time." She admitted, her tone softening.

"With what, baby?" I ask, brushing some hair behind her ear.

"I don't know. I want to talk about you to my family, you know? I feel like my mom would really like you. I want to tell her so bad, but I'm scared she'll tell my dad."

"You think she would do that?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"I don't know. Maybe? She's also just so bad at keeping other people's secrets."

"You don't think she'd keep this one for you? Or that she'd be happy you told her?"

"I don-" she just shrugs, looking up to most likely stop herself from crying. "Part of me thinks she'd be really cool about it. But it's that little sliver of doubt that makes me too scared to say anything."

"Well, if you aren't feeling it, you aren't feeling it. You don't have to come out to anyone if it doesn't feel right. I'm not rushing you." You pat her hip reassuringly and give her a playful pinch. "The offer I made earlier still stands. Dont feel pressured to take me up on it, but it's there if you want it. All you have to do is tell me, okay?"

She just nodded and continued packing her bag. You know she's upset and probably not in the mood for any bullshit, so you kiss her shoulder and walk out of your bedroom to give her some space for a few minutes.

You get a drink from the fridge, fighting the urge to eat something because it's basically against the law to eat anything on thanksgiving before the meal.

She stepped out of your room a few minutes later, her bag over her arm and her sunglasses on. You pout slightly. You knew she was leaving because she had to get ready at her house, but it didn't make you any less sad to see her go.

"Let me know when you get there, please?" You ask, stepping towards her and planting a soft kiss on her lips. She nods and leans in, pulling you in for a deeper one.

"I love you." She mumbles against your lips before deepening the kiss again. You smile against her lips and kiss her once more before pulling away.

"I love you, too." You take her bag from her shoulder and throw it over your own. "Let me walk you to your car."

---

You haven't heard from Regina in a few hours now. She let you know what she made it home and sent you a few provocative photos of her getting ready, but otherwise you haven't heard from her since then.

It was almost 4pm and you've been at your dad's for maybe an hour now. Your step-mom's family were also present and they were okay people, but you didn't really know them.

You also didn't know they were coming. Your dad pulled you aside when you came into the house and said it was very last minute and he was upset by it. Not your business, but go off, dad.

You snatched your little sister up from your step-mom and followed your little brother up to their playroom. Too many people you didn't know were asking about what you were doing with your life, who you were dating, what you were studying. You've met these people like four times total.

You released Zoe and let her crawl around with Levi. You sat on the floor against the wall and let them both bring you toys and random shit they wanted you to see or hold. You play wrestled, let them climb on top of you, all around earning big sibling points you hoped.

You took a selfie of you with Levi climbing on your shoulders and Zoe sitting on your lap. It was blurry and all three of you were smiling and laughing in the photo.

Levi requested to see the picture of course, like any curious toddler would. Zoe didn't care, but she looked anyway because her big siblings were.

You sent the photo to Regina, expecting it to go unanswered like your previous messages the last few hours.

'I wish I was there with you'

She responded within about a minute. You frowned reading the message.

'Everything okay?' You respond, unsure if she'll even text back that quickly again. The little bubble with the three dots pops up immediately.

'Yes and no. It's fine.'

You were in the middle of typing up a response when she sends you another message.

'Can I still come over?'

You delete the message you were in the middle of writing to type up a new one.

'To my mom's for the rest of break? Or to my dad's for dessert?'

'Both. I don't want to be in this fucking house any longer than I need to be. I'm an adult, right???'

You smiled and rolled your eyes at her response.

'Yes, of course can. Dessert will probably be around 7. That work?'

She didn't text back, but she responded to your message with a heart so you knew it was most likely fine. You sent her your location so she knew where to go and continued to play with your siblings that had been all but demanding your attention while you responded to Regina.

"Alright, alright." You say, dodging a block that Levi was about two centimeters from smacking you in the face with. "Relax, you little monster." You tease, tickling his little belly and making him break out into a fit of giggles. Zoe looked up at you like she was being left out and you tickled her also, making her laugh.

There was a light knock on the door frame and you looked up to see your dad coming in with a small plate of appetizers, two sippy cups with water for the kids, and then a bottle of water for you.

"It sounded pretty rowdy up here, thought my babies could use some refreshments." He handed Levi his sippy cup and sat down on the floor across from you with his legs crossed.

You rolled your eyes slightly at him still calling you his baby, but you also still found it really cute and wouldn't dare make a comment about it.

Zoe was resting comfortably on your lap and he handed her the drink before giving you your water bottle and holding out the plate of snacks for you to pick off of, stealing a mini quiche for himself in the process of course.

You took a big sip of your water, not even realizing how thirsty you had gotten. You closed the bottle and set it to the side, taking the plate from him and eating the last mini quiche before it got stolen from under you.

"How's it going down there?" You ask him with your mouth a little full, covering it with one of your hands to be not gross.

"It goes, bud. They get on my nerves. What can I say?" He chuckled. "You talk to your mom today?"

"I called her but she didn't answer. Probably too busy with Ricky. You know how it goes." You shrug, sharing a small piece of mozzarella with Zoe that came from one of the mini caprese skewers, smiling at her when she said 'mmm!' "Is that yummy??" You ask her with a smile and she grins up at you while chewing.

"I love when you come by, kiddo. I know these terrors do, too." He said sincerely, ignoring the fact that Levi was wacking his back with a foam sword now and laughing like a maniac.

"Hey, dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course!" He said, reaching his arm back and snatching that foam sword from Levi. It made the toddler giggle and run off, thinking he was about to get chased.

"Is it okay if my girlfriend comes over for dessert?" Your dad knew you liked girls, but you had never introduced him to any of your past partners before. He waved to Regina that day after the party when she brought you back to get your clothes and she waved back, but that was about it. You don't even think he saw her face.

He perked up and smiled at you.

"Girlfriend?? Of course! That's so exciting, Y/N!" He have your knee a nudge. "Tell me about her."

"Well, her name is Regina. We went to high school together. We didn't really talk much then, but we ended up being neighbors in our dorm and it just worked out." You say with a wide smile on your face. "But, um, she isn't out. To like anyone really, but especially her family. So I don't know how comfortable she would having people know, but I also wanted at least you to know that she was my girlfriend if I was going to invite her." You were nervous and rambling and you really hoped he understood what you were saying.

He nods his head and looks at you slightly concerned.

"I get what you're saying. Unless you indicate in any way that she's comfortable, we don't address it." He says sincerely. "Are you sure you're okay with dating someone like this?" He asks. You know he's coming from a good place, but you hate that people keep asking you this.

"I mean, she won't be in the closet forever." I shrug, picking a piece of lint off Zoe's outfit. "It'll be okay, dad. And if it's not, then at least I gave her a good first experience, right?" You give him a reassuring smile and he reaches over to brush hair from your face.

"I'm glad you turned out to be such a good kid. I know you dealt with a lot of shit as a kid, but you didn't let it ruin you. She can definitely come. I'm excited to meet her." He gave you a genuine smile.

The four of you turned your heads when you heard footsteps approaching. Your step mom, Ginny, came into the room looking exasperated and closed to door behind her softly.

"God, I hate the holidays sometimes." She said, plopping down on one of the rockers in the playroom. "They're driving me nuts. How have things been up here? It got quiet so I came to check on everyone- hi munchkin!" She reached for Zoe who all but launched herself off your lap to crawl to her mom.

You took advantage of your newfound hand freedom and grabbed that plate of appetizers you had set down. Though your freedom was short lived because within about ten seconds Levi threw himself onto your lap and almost sent your plate of appetizers flying.

You set your plate on the floor again and wrapped an arm around his tummy, offering him a pita bread with hummus that he happily accepted.

"Hey, Ginny?"

"Yes, hun?"

"Is it okay with you if I have someone join us for dessert? Dad said yes, but it's your house, too." She smiles at you and nods immediately.

"Of course, Y/N! We have plenty of dessert and I think you need someone your own age to enjoy the rest of the night with, too."

"Psh, I don't know what you mean. I am having so much fun with these two. Couldn't ask for a better holiday." You say truthfully, giving Levi's leg a playful pinch and making him laugh.

"So is this a friend or...?" Ginny asks with a small smirk and you can't help but smile wide. "Ah! I knew it! I knew it!" She said excitedly,

Ginny was about ten years younger than your dad. Smack dab right in the middle between your age and his. She's great and you really do love her. She's been around for many years now at this point and knows you just as much, if not more than your own mom.

"She's my girlfriend." You admit, blushing slightly. "But she isn't out yet, especially to her parents. I don't know how comfortable she's gonna-"

"Say less. I know exactly what you mean. We've got you. If that changes at any point, please tell us. Cause we would love to treat her like your girlfriend if we can. This will definitely stay between us though."

You smiled at her and the three of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. You were watching the kids play and listening to the commotion that Ginny's family was stirring up downstairs.

At some point her mom shouted up the stairs obnoxiously for her that timers were going off and food needed to be pulled out and you all knew your peaceful moment was over.

Your dad and Ginny went downstairs to pull the food and turkey from the oven and you were asked politely if you could please do diaper checks on both of the kids before bringing them down.

Which, honestly, that seemed way better than walking into that mess downstairs.

---

Dinner was a little more chaotic than you were used to, but it wasn't totally unbearable. Ginny's parents, aunt and uncle cleared out so they could spend dessert with her cousin and his wife. They complained the whole night about how his wife was more of a baker than a chef.

So apparently that was the reason they sprung this last minute self invite to dinner on them.

Ginny's sister stuck around though, most likely to talk mad shit over a slice a pie and a glass of wine. Which, so valid.

Regina messaged you around 6:30pm that she was ten minutes away and you could feel yourself getting really nervous all of a sudden.

Cause of the whole never bringing anyone home before thing.

She texts you when she's here and asks you to come to her car. You look at the message confused, but excuse yourself from the house and run outside.

She's sitting in her black Volvo, which is surprising to you since she's back home in Evanston. You walk up to her car and open the drivers side door and see her sitting looking...nervous?

"Hey, baby." You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a quick hug. "Everything okay?" You ask, sounding concerned.

"I think I almost came out to my mom." She said, rubbing her hands against her thighs anxiously.

"Almost?" You ask, cocking your head to the side.

"I was in the middle of doing it and my dad came in and I just stopped talking."

You give her a sad smile and squeeze her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. How do you feel about almost doing it?" You ask, dancing on your toes because you were starting to get cold. "What was the conversation?"

"I was asking her if I could leave and spend the rest of break with a friend. I didn't just want to be cruel and just leave." She was playing with her steering wheel cover. "I could tell she looked kind of upset, but she said it was fine and that she hoped I had fun. I felt bad. Like really bad. So I told her I was spending it with someone I was dating. She just looked so excited." She shook her head and buried her face in her hands and letting out a muffled, dramatic scream into her hands. She looked up again with a straight face. "Then she said tell her about him and I just didn't want to lie. I just felt in that moment I could trust her. All I was able to say was 'well it's not a guy' before my dad busted into the kitchen."

"And then what?"

"I left to come here." She shrugged.

"Babe, you definitely came out to her. You just didn't talk about it after." You say with an awkward chuckle.

"No," she shook her head. "I didn't come out. I didn't tell her enough. She's too goofy to have picked up what I meant." She said, seemingly trying to convince herself.

"Okay, you didn't come out." You affirm, but her phone lighting up over and over in the cup holder of her center console is having you believe that her mom might not be as goofy as she thinks. But you also know Regina can ignore messages like nobody's business when she wants to, so part of you also has a feeling Regina knows that her mom knows, too. "Are you gonna check those...?" You ask cautiously.

"No, I'm not and I think you should mind your fucking business." She said simply while she fixed her makeup.

"Don't start, please." You say softly and you see her tense briefly before relaxing.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She swallows and nods, looking up at you with a pout, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm really sorry." You furrow your eyebrows and cock your head to the side confused, waiting for her to continue. "I don't think I should go inside."

She said it barely above a whisper, but it still felt so fucking loud.

"Don't do this, Regina." You say, shaking your head. "Just come inside." You say calmly.

You can hear what your dad said earlier replaying in your head, about if you were sure you wanted to do this with someone who wasn't out yet and you hated that Regina was sitting here in front of you proving him right.

"I don't-" She just shrugged, looking at you with those sad fucking eyes.

"Look, I know you're scared and it freaks you out. I'm not trying to rush you." You cup her cheek, rubbing your thumb along her cheekbone. "But please just trust me and come inside. If you really hate it, I'll let you leave." You say softly. Your heart was pounding and you swear your hands were shaking.

Shit, you weren't even fucking cold anymore.

Regina was unpredictable and the possibility that she could flee at any moment was always at the back of your mind. Anytime something regarding her sexuality and coming out got involved, you always felt like you were teetering between her fully accepting herself or absolutely destroying you.

She gripped her steering wheel, staring straight ahead. You could tell by the way she was breathing that she was anxious and thinking about what to do.

You wonder if the only reason she hasn't just driven off yet was because you were standing in front of her open car door.

She chewed her top lip, trying to control her breathing through her nose and she nodded slightly. Her thumbs ran across her textured steering wheel cover and she nodded again, this time more confidently.

Like, you could actually tell she was nodding.

"Okay, okay, yeah." She licks her lips and swallows, continuing to nod.

You can tell she's still trying to convince herself, but she said it out loud and that works for now.

"They don't even have to know you're my girlfriend. You can just be my friend." You reassure her and you can visibly see her relax a bit.

She takes a deep breath and pulls her visor down and fixes herself in the mirror again. She slams it up when she's done and within seconds she's moving to get out of the car. The attitude and anxiety gone from her face as if it were never there and you frown at the thought of how good Regina has become playing this version of herself.

She grabbed her phone and her purse, closing and locking her car door and shoving her keys into her bag. She adjusted her outfit nervously and looked over to you.

"Do I look okay?"

"You look so beautiful." You smile, staring at her like she was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

Well, she was.

She nods and follows you up the rest of the driveway, gripping the back of your shirt until you open the front door.

You walk inside and shut the door behind you both. You take her jacket off and hang it up. You hear some noise coming from the kitchen so you make your way over there first.

Your dad is pulling an assortment of pies from the fridge, Zoe crawling around his feet and him avoiding stepping on her expertly.

"Hey, dad?" You called to him softly when you entered the kitchen to get his attention. He looked up at the both of you and smiled.

"Hey, kiddos."

"This is my friend, Regina." You introduced and you could see the faintest glimmer of sadness on his face before he smiled wide and wiped some whipped cream off his hands on the apron he was wearing.

"So nice to meet you, Regina, Y/N's friend." He said, his hand extended out and stepping over Zoe. "I'm Greg, Y/N's dad."

Regina met him halfway and shook his hand firmly, smiling wide while she did it.

"It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for letting me join you so last minute."

"Oh nonsense!" He let go of her hand and waved her off playfully. "We are so happy to have you here." He turned to look to you now. "Y/N, you want to bring Zoe and Regina to the dining room and introduce her to everyone else? I'll handle the pies."

"Sure, dad." You squat on the floor with your arms out. "ZoZo, let's go." She smiles and crawls to you, her hands and knees smacking against the tile floor. You pick her up and toss her slightly, seeing Regina's eyes widen slightly when you catch her and prop her on your hip. "Say hi, Zoe!" You bounced her on your hip in Regina's direction.

"Hi Zoe!" Regina lit up, smiling at her in a way you had never seen before. Zoe looked up at her, taking her in and studying her. She decided after about ten seconds that Regina was a friendly and giggled, throwing herself back in your arms.

She reached a curious hand out to Regina, most likely wanting to get her grubby paws on her earrings but the blonde knew better than to give her access to those. Instead she gave her one of her hands, letting Zoe investigate her painted nails, her rings, and her bracelets.

You could hear your dad shuffling in the kitchen behind you so you knew you had to get out of the way. You pointed your head in the direction of the dining room and began walking. You were essentially pulling Regina along because Zoe was showing zero interest in letting her go.

You walk into the dining room where Ginny, her sister Lucy, and Levi were setting up plates and silverware for dessert.

You introduced Regina to everyone and when she tried to move to shake everyone's hand, Zoe began the makings of a temper tantrum and she stayed put out of panic.

Regina apologized and thanked Ginny for having her and you took this opportunity to hand Zoe to Regina while she was distracted with talking. Zoe went with her willingly, resting her head on Regina's shoulder and fiddling with her rings.

It made your heart want to explode honestly with how cute it was.

Everyone in the room laughed and Ginny made a comment about how it looked like Regina found a friend and she was happy to have her here.

Ginny told you both to take a seat and you pulled out a chair for Regina and Zoe, helping push it in for her.

You pulled out the seat to her right for yourself, but Levi took it upon himself to slide into the seat instead and investigate this new person that both of his siblings are giving attention to.

"Levi, you butt." You say, rolling your eyes and pushing his chair in and taking the seat to Levi's right. He fully ignored you and turned his attention to Regina.

"Hi, look at my dinosaurs." He told her, pulling out three little dinosaurs from his corduroy pants and setting them on the table between them.

"I love dinosaurs." She tells him. "Do you know which dinosaurs those are?" He nods excitedly and sits on his knees, naming them out excitedly and giving her a fun fact about each of them. "See, I didn't know that about any of them. You taught me something new today." She smiled at him and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

He was ready to hop of his chair and get his dinosaur book, but Ginny told him to park it or no dessert.

He started asking her other questions; her favorite animal, her favorite planet, her favorite reptile. She answered all of his silly questions like they were the most important thing in the world to her right now and you swear you could feel yourself somehow falling even more in love with her.

Your dad served the pies, giving everyone small slices of each one to sample (there were four). When he handed you a plate to pass to Regina, he gave you a look and you know it meant that he liked her.

"Y/N, let your friend eat her pie in peace and take the baby from her." He said, after he handed you her plate.

"I was already planning on it, dad." You took the plate and stood up, setting it in front of Regina and snatching Zoe up while she was distracted by the pie. Regina chuckled and Zoe threw herself back in your arms in protest of being taken away from her new friend.

Lucy said she would take her, so you handed her over to her, but her protest turned into a meltdown so she went with Ginny instead who bribed her with pie.

There was quiet conversation over dessert. Your dad and Ginny asked Regina a few questions about herself, but nothing too crazy. How she's liking college, if she's decided on her major yet, and if she did any school activities.

Your dad was very excited to find out she played soccer. They talked about that briefly before moving on to essentially talk shit about Ginny's family.

You and Regina listened in silence, stealing glances and smiles at each other while you both enjoyed your dessert.

Once Levi was done being distracted with his own dessert, he became more talkative and more demanding of both yours and Regina's attention.

Part of you was worried that Regina was going to get annoyed. If she did, she didn't show it. She was entertaining all of Levi's silly questions, laughing at his jokes, and asking questions back to him and listening intently to his answers.

Once dessert was wrapped up, the kids were hyped up on sugar and overtired so you took that as your cue to dip out.

You both said your goodbyes. Your family hugging Regina as if they didn't just meet her a little over an hour ago.

You followed your dad into the kitchen so he could give you leftovers, packing you enough for the two of you since you told him Regina was most likely going to be going back to your mom's with you.

When you came back to the front door with your bag of leftovers, Regina had her jacket on with Levi in her arms and they were making silly faces at each other.

"Ready?" You ask with a smile. Regina nods and sets Levi down and he clings to her leg immediately.

"Can I come?"

"Not this time, hun." Ginny steps in, picking him up to avoid making it awkward for anyone. He crosses his arms and pouts. "They'll just have to come back soon." She smiles and gives him an encouraging jostle.

"Definitely, Levi. We'll be back soon." You pinch his cheek. He perks up and you know he's gonna hold you to that.

You put your own coat on and say one final goodbye before exiting the house. As soon as the door is shut, Regina links your arms together and you both start walking down the driveway.

"They knew, didn't they?" She said with a slight laugh.

"Was their acting that bad?" You ask, turning to look at her to try and gauge her reaction. She was smiling, so at least you knew she wasn't mad.

"No, they were good. They were great." She said, pulling you closer to her. "I saw the look your dad gave you when he was giving you the pie. Your dad also might've overemphasized that I was your friend just a touch." She laughed lightly.

"He tried so hard." You laugh. "I think he was just excited, but also wanted to be respectful of you."

"Excited?" She asked, pulling her keys out of her purse.

"You're the first partner I've had that he's met, technically." You explained, pulling your own keys from your coat pocket.

"I'm really sorry. I feel like I ruined that experience for you." She stopped in front of her car, turning to look at you with soft eyes. She wrapped an arm around your waist.

"No," you say softly, shaking your head. "I wouldn't have had it any other way. It was perfect. You were perfect. Did you have an okay time?" You hold her arm, pulling her closer to you and she leans into you.

"More than okay." She nods, fighting off a smile. "I love you." She whispers, leaning in and kissing you softly.

"I love you, too." You say when she pulls away. "Thank you for coming tonight." You nudge your nose against hers and she smiles.

"I'm glad I did." She presses her forehead against yours before pulling away. "It's fucking cold." She unlocks her car and you open the door for her. You rest your arm on the roof of her car, poking your head into the car slightly.

"I have a nice warm bed and some leftovers with our names on it." You sing, holding up the bag of leftovers.

"Well, fuck, why are you just standing around then?" She laughs, rolling her eyes at you playfully.

"Don't get upset with me, but you know you're gonna have to talk to your mom, right?"

"No, I know." She says softly, nodding in agreement. "I'm gonna call her. I just want to enjoy the rest of tonight with you."

"Okay." You nod, pushing some hair behind her ear. "Follow me back, then?" You say, stepping away from her car. She turns on her car and rolls her window down as you close her door.

"I'll be right on your ass, babe."

[mrs-stans]

GQ Hype

How Sebastian Stan became Donald Trump in The Apprentice

With an uncanny performance as a young Donald Trump in The Apprentice and an even less recognisable turn in A Different Man, the shapeshifting actor is embracing his freaky side

By Ben Allen Photography by Daniel Jack Lyons

Coat by Loewe. Boots by Dolce & Gabbana.Necklace by Cartier.Daniel Jack Lyons

When Sebastian Stan was growing up in Romania in the 1980s, he began to learn English through passive immersion. His mother, a concert pianist, would regularly play English music and language lessons on the family record player while they were going about their day. “I’d be playing with toys and I’d hear, like, ‘frog’ and ‘dog’, or whatever,” Stan says. It meant that by the time the actor moved to Vienna at age eight, where he attended an American international school – and later, when he moved to New York at 12 – he had a decent jumping-off point. “I’m a big believer in putting yourself in a situation where, subconsciously, there’s work being done.”

In the past two years, Stan has put that method to use in a very different way. As he entered preproduction to play Donald Trump in Ali Abbasi’s The Apprentice – which charts the former President and current Republican candidate’s early rise through the New York property scene – he started spending his waking hours with tapes of the young Trump playing in his ears. He brushed his teeth with Trump, he went grocery shopping with Trump, he spoke to friends with one earphone in, Trump still nattering away in his ear. “I slept with him, by the way,” Stan says, well aware of how strange that sounds. “It just sort of ends up taking over your life.” He’s sitting somewhere in Los Angeles at lunchtime, speaking to me over Zoom, with the afternoon sun reflecting off his chlorine-blue eyes.

Jacket and shirt by Gabriela Hearst. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Ring by Cartier.

The Apprentice, which Stan first signed up for in 2022, explores the question, ‘How did Trump get like this?’ (The answer, it posits, has a lot to do with Roy Cohn, a lawyer and prosecutor who had risen to prominence in the 1950s as Senator Joseph McCarthy’s attack dog in the communist witch-hunts.) The film is the latest in a string of freaky, transformation-heavy roles that have run parallel alongside Stan’s very mainstream 13-year-and-counting stint as Captain America’s pal Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which has made him a globally recognised action star. The Apprentice lands this month in the UK, two weeks after A Different Man, an A24 production in which Stan plays an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis, a genetic condition that has caused the growth of non-cancerous tumours on his face. They’re not your typical actor-in-between-superhero-outings roles – and the fact that Stan is spending so much time in the make-up chair outside of the blockbusters is indicative of a desire to get truly lost in his work.

I started to think a lot about the American dream. What is it? Is it a ghost you keep chasing?

Preparing to play Trump, he says, was like any other time he has portrayed a real-life person – take, say, Tonya Harding’s ex-husband, Jeff Gillooly, in I, Tonya, or Tommy Lee in Pam & Tommy. But this time around it came with an added layer of stress. “There’d be nights when my anxiety levels would be through the roof, because I’d be like, Why did I say yes to this?” he says with a laugh.

But Stan thrives when he leans into fear. He had been terrified of I, Tonya, and even more terrified of Pam & Tommy – which, in its exploration of the couple’s romance and sex tape, involved a scene where Lee converses with a silicone puppet of his penis. (The latter earned him Golden Globe and Emmy nominations.) Trump was a different beast. “I thought, I don’t know if this is doable. I don’t know if I have it in me,” he says. “But it’s not not gonna happen because I’m scared of it.”

Coat, shirt and tie by Ludovic de Saint Sernin. Trousers by Gabriela Hearst. Boots and gloves by Versace. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Daniel Jack Lyons

Jacket and shirt by Gabriela Hearst. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Daniel Jack Lyons

When his mother told him he was going to be leaving Vienna for the United States at 12 years old, Stan felt like the floor had fallen from beneath him. “It was like you were telling me that my life was over,” he says. His mother was a single parent and had met an American man and fallen in love; he wanted to bring them both to live with him in New York. Stan remembers crying in the shower in the days leading up to the move. After departing Romania a few years before, he had worked hard to forge new friendships. Now, he’d have to rebuild from the bottom up again. “That did feed me resilience, because it did allow me to get better at restarting and restarting,” he says. “It fed a lot of who I am.”

Upon arriving in America, he started working on his impersonation of an American teenager. “I was so traumatised by being different,” he says. He refused to speak Romanian, even at home. He didn’t tell anyone he was from a foreign country. “I wanted to change my name to Christopher,” he says. “I wanted to be as normal in America as anybody else.” Having already set the ball rolling with his passive English lessons as a child, he was able to adopt a seamless New York accent, leaving little to betray his otherness. He tried out every personality marker available to him at school, to figure out which one fitted: debate team, forensics, every sport he could muster, and drama, eventually gravitating towards the latter. “I became popular in high school through acting,” he says. “I went on dates. I found my path.”

Still, this otherness was a part of Stan, as much as he initially tried to suppress it. As he came to appreciate life in America – in a middle-class household, with a good education – he began to reappraise his background, and felt a sense of gratitude to his stepfather for bringing them over, and for the drive it seeded within him. “This idea that you’ve been so lucky to have been selected to get this opportunity,” he says. “I was able to seize it and work with it, but on the other hand it’s a never-ending burden because you go, ‘You better not blow it!’” He remembers taking a walk through the city on their arrival, gawping up at the skyscrapers, when his mother impressed upon him that very sentiment: “You see these buildings? This is where you have a chance to become something.” He thought about this conversation quite a lot while he was playing Trump, probably because it feels like a scene ripped right out of a more varnished biography of the former President. “I started to think a lot about the American dream, and sort of like, what is it?” he says. “Is it a ghost you keep chasing?”

That was a way of me understanding that you're just out there, like target practice.

When Stan was doing theatre in high school, he loved getting a chance to transform and become a different person entirely. “You’re 14, 15, and you’re playing parts where you have to be, like, 35 years older than you are, and you have to change your appearance, you have to change everything, and you have to walk a certain way,” he says. “That shit was fun.” He would find himself craving those meatier transformations later, after landing a run of roles in Hollywood playing traditionally hot villains and heroes in Gossip Girl and in the Captain America movies. “Watching Christian Bale do The Fighter and watching him do Batman and Vice and The Machinist… He was a guy that, to me, could have made very conventional choices because he’s very good at any of it. But then he’s trying these things.”

Opportunities like this aren’t necessarily afforded to nascent actors. In a weird way, you kind of have to wait for your face to become recognisable before you’re allowed to start messing with it. The first real taste Stan got of this was in 2017 – after he had been solidly established as a Marvel hero – in the Margot Robbie-led, Oscar-winning I, Tonya, which told the story of the assault on figure skater Nancy Kerrigan, orchestrated by her Olympic rival Tonya Harding’s camp. For Harding’s ex-husband – who sets the assault in motion – they were looking for someone very different to Stan. The real Gillooly is slight and short, with narrow features. Stan felt his teen-drama looks would work against him in the audition process. “I’m like, ‘I’m gonna walk into that room and they’re gonna see the taller guy, The CW [the young-people-melodrama US TV network that first aired Gossip Girl] guy.’ I felt like I was going to be immediately judged.”

Coat and pyjamas by Dolce & Gabbana. Daniel Jack Lyons

I, Tonya director Craig Gillespie saw in Stan a capacity to become Gillooly. “I was familiar with Captain America: Civil War and his work there, and I couldn’t quite picture it [at first],” Gillespie tells me. “But he actually turned up [to the audition] in the turtleneck and the moustache, almost in character. And the transformation, and his instincts tonally and comedically… He was actually improvising things in the scene that worked incredibly well.”

Gillespie was impressed not just by how Stan had remoulded himself in the shape of someone else, but by his ability to tap into the character’s humanity, too. “It has to be emotionally resonant,” he says. “You have to be able to connect to the characters… He completely commits, which is an incredibly scary proposition for an actor.” Still, Stan was filled with anxiety heading into I, Tonya. “The amount of fear I had was almost traumatising,” he says. But then he did it. “I worked so hard for that movie, and it worked.”

A DIFFERENT MAN takes things up another notch. The film was written and directed by Aaron Schimberg, a rising indie director whose work has explored how disability has impacted his life (Schimberg was born with a cleft lip and palate). In it, a prosthetics-heavy Stan plays Edward, an actor whose biggest break to date is a small role in a corporate training video about how to treat employees with facial differences in the workplace. Edward’s spirit has been crushed by the world around him, weathered by the relentless gawping of strangers and rejection. Then, he takes part in a clinical trial for a new drug that could remove the tumours from his face. It works. Edward fakes his death and adopts a new identity, looking just like regular old Sebastian Stan. But when Edward’s kind neighbour – played by The Worst Person in the World’s Renate Reinsve – stages a play about him, he finds himself in competition with Oswald (played by Adam Pearson, a British actor with neurofibromatosis) for the part. It is, to put it mildly, a confronting drama, excavating both society’s unwillingness to treat people with disabilities fairly and the fallacy of our terminal dissatisfaction with our looks.

Coat by McQueen. Shirt by Louis Vuitton. Trousers by Louis Vuitton. Tie by Dolce & Gabbana. Boots by Versace. Daniel Jack Lyons

Though the film treads across the noir and comic horror genres, and at points tips into the absurd, it feels most like a parable. “It’s another version of the American dream, right?” Stan says. “Don’t wish for the things you want; you don’t know what’s going to happen.”

During the shoot, Stan often had long stretches between having his facial prosthetics applied and his call time (the film’s make-up designer, Michael Marino, was simultaneously working on The Marvelous Mrs Maisel, and would sometimes have to squeeze Stan into make-up in the early hours before running to that job). So Stan would walk around New York, including parts of his own neighbourhood, wearing hyperrealistic prosthetics, getting just a little taste of what his life would be like if he had been dealt a different hand. At one point, he went to his local coffee shop, where a barista he has known for years was working the counter. “She was so busy handling stuff, and suddenly she turned and she didn’t expect to see me,” he says, “and I could see the shock going immediately into overcompensation.” Pearson told him that those are the reactions that he is most often confronted with as a person with a disability: shock verging on repulsion, and guilty, over-the-top kindness.

Schimberg helped Stan to draw a neat line between Edward’s life and his own experience of fame. The one thing they had in common is how they’re observed in public spaces. “He said, ‘You have to think about what it’s like to be recognised. And the sense that you’re fair game out there.’ That I could understand,” Stan says. “I’ll go to lunch with my mom and somebody will be filming me the entire time, pretending they’re not. Or I’ll see somebody look at me strangely and then they’ll whisper to their friends. Or I’ve had someone come and tap me and run away. The invasiveness of that… And I can’t do anything but just receive it.”

Stan is quick to clarify that his experience as a famous person is not really comparable, that it comes with all sorts of upsides. But this point of similarity helped him to fully embody the character. “That was a way of me understanding this thing – that you’re just out there, like target practice.”

Coat and pyjamas by Dolce & Gabbana. Daniel Jack Lyons

Production on The Apprentice was hazardously stop-start. Several times over, Stan began his Trump immersion routine – which also involved pounding Coca-Colas and peanut butter and jam sandwiches, among other things, to put on some very un-superhero bulk – only to find out that production had been suspended. At one point, the project came so close to overlapping with his next Marvel outing, next May’s Thunderbolts, that he had to start shredding instead – only for Thunderbolts to be postponed because of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Straight back to the PB&Js. All that work wasted. “I’m fuckin’ 41; I just worked pretty hard to get in shape here!” he says.

Stan’s Trump is admirably nuanced, particularly for a person who has been so widely imitated – on SNL, on late-night talk shows, every second of every day by comedians trying to make a name for themselves on TikTok – as to be reduced to a caricature in the public consciousness. Initially, it feels quite removed, but then you spot the shape his mouth curves into while enunciating words like “deal” and “loser”, a subtle pursing of the lips when he’s being spoken to, a hand gesture. As the movie progresses, the man with whom we’re all exhaustingly familiar comes closer and closer to the fore.

Suit and boots by Versace. Vest top by Schiesser. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Watch by Cartier. Daniel Jack Lyons

The challenge, in Stan’s eyes, was to tread the very fine line between interpretation and imitation. “It’s a balance between having the familiarity without it becoming sort of a schtick,” he says. “There is a small window of time where you are going through the impersonation phase, because you’ve got to get through that in order to come out the other end,” he says. “There is a mechanical, technical piece to it, and that comes from actually studying a person.” According to Stan’s mother, he spent much of his childhood relentlessly impersonating people he came in to contact with. “I’ve always been good at watching people,” he says.

I'm going to commit the fuck out of it and surrender myself to the story.

Once he got comfortable enough, he would take the show on the road – trying versions of the character out in restaurants to see if anyone would pick up on it. “Because there’s a thing getting born,” he says, “and you want to test it out in the world, but you don’t want to overdo it too quickly – then it gets frozen.” No one seemed to notice in the moment, which was at least some indication that he hadn’t tipped over into parody, but some friends who have seen the movie realised retrospectively: “They’ve come up to me after and said, ‘Now I see this fuckin’ weird thing you were doing!’”

When we meet Trump in The Apprentice, he is a footsoldier in his father’s company and significantly less self-assured, though he’s got the trademark wispy hair and the ill-fitting suits. The wheels begin to turn when he meets Cohn – portrayed here in typically committed fashion by Succession’s Jeremy Strong, with whom Stan only had the chance to interact in character on set – who begins to sculpt Trump in his own image, laying out his rules for success, which will be very familiar to anyone who has paid attention to Trump’s political career: 1) attack, attack, attack; 2) admit nothing and deny everything; and 3) always claim victory and never admit defeat.

Coat, trousers and shoes by McQueen. Vest top by Ami. Sunglasses by Jacques Marie Mages. Pin by Cartier. Daniel Jack Lyons

Stan seems reticent to get into the politics of The Apprentice, which depicts Trump as, among other things, a rapist, in a scene referencing allegations made in a deposition by his first wife Ivana during their divorce proceedings. (Trump has previously denied the rape allegation; Ivana later issued a statement clarifying that she had felt violated, but was not raped in a “literal or criminal sense”.) But the movie speaks for itself. And Trump’s camp is already speaking back: after the film premiered at Cannes in May, the presidential campaign’s chief spokesperson Steven Cheung called the movie “garbage”, “pure fiction” and “election interference by Hollywood elites”, while also threatening a lawsuit. In a press conference at the film festival, Abbasi suggested that an ideal release date would be in mid-September, to align with the second presidential debate (but the film, as it happens, is now due out on 11 October in the USA, and 18 October in the UK). It wouldn’t take Alan Turing to decipher the message being transmitted. But I try and press for a direct answer: does Stan feel an added sense of responsibility playing Trump in an election year? “You can’t not think about it,” he says. “But I had tremendous trust in Ali Abbasi and his vision for the movie. And it is an important story – I think the movie makes a great attempt at exploring: how did we get here? But I approached it with the same responsibility as I approached anything I ever got involved with, which is, I’m going to give this my all. I’m going to research the fuck out of it; I’m going to commit the fuck out of it and surrender myself to the story.”

Does he have any concerns about backlash from Trump or from MAGA supporters? “I mean, is there anything out there now that doesn’t get backlash? You can’t worry about what people think,” Stan says. “But I’m fully aware that I’m doing things that are not going to be for everybody.”

He’s not far off the mark. Even Marvel, the world’s highest-grossing movie franchise of all time, has faced quite a bit of criticism in recent years – in part for the way in which they’ve handled the transition to a new set of heroes and storylines since 2019’s Avengers: Endgame. Stan doesn’t have any time for it. “I’ve never been part of a company that puts so much heart and thought into anything,” he says. “I think if Marvel was gone, it’d be such a big hole to try and fill up. Don’t just go out there and shit on something without offering something better.”

Coat by Loewe. Boots by Dolce & Gabbana. Necklace by Cartier. Daniel Jack Lyons

He’s certainly not done with the MCU yet. Thunderbolts, which he’ll headline alongside Florence Pugh, will arrive in May next year. And he’s already looking beyond that, to a potential reunion with Robert Downey Jr, who has been announced to return in the next Avengers movie – not as Iron Man, but as the villain Doctor Doom. “I hope I’m in a scene with him,” Stan says. “Is there any other guy that could pull that off? I don’t know, probably not. After Tropic Thunder, is there anything that guy can’t do?” he says, laughing. It is perhaps the movie that I least expect Stan – or anyone, to be honest – to reference in 2024, but I should know better. Downey Jr is a transformation master, too. Game recognises game.

Trump doesn’t exist in the Marvel universe – or at least not yet – but if you spot a hint of him in Thunderbolts, you’ll know why. “I went off to Marvel after [The Apprentice],” Stan says. “And we were doing scenes, and I would do something, a thing or two, and be like, ‘Fuck! This is still living somewhere.’”

Styled by Sean Knight Hair by Erica Adams Grooming by Kc Fee using iS Clinical at Redefine Representation Set Design by Daniel Horowitz Production by May Kielany

[lincolndjarin]

Every Now and Then - ch. two

[ And if You Only Hold Me Tight ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 9.3k

summary : you spend some time tommy, you spent some time with joel.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, language, panic attacks, violence, injury, wounds, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, animal death, i probs missed some i never know how to tag so lmk if i misses anything !!

a/n : this took so long and i dont even know it its good so i'm deeply sorry about that.

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“It’s nice to meet you Ellie.” You hold your hand out across the table to her, offering your own name up in the process, noticing an incredulous look in her eyes as you say it. Of course she doesn’t shake it, you’ve worked with enough survivors her age to know how they think. 

She doesn’t trust any of this, and you can’t blame her. Every single thing she’s seen since arriving here is too good to be true, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s okay, you can be patient. She just needs to learn how to be a kid again. When she makes no attempt to move you pull your hand back, your smile never wavering. You’ve met kids in much worse condition than this, you can work with this. 

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Ellie.” You set the notebook you’d been writing in back down onto the table, you don’t want this to feel like an interrogation for her, it needs to be a conversation or you won’t get any of the information you need.

“Like what?” She’s slouched down into the chair, her arms crossed across her chest. She has her defenses up, she has spent her entire life protecting herself, she isn’t going to stop just because a stranger offered her a mug of tea. A mug of tea that she has notably not touched. 

“Anything you want to, or I could ask some specifics if you’d like.” You take a sip of your own tea, hoping it might show her it’s safe. She only hums in response, you decide it might be for the best if you just ask her what you need to know. “Let’s start with a few easy ones, how old are you?” 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“We need to assess your health, what classes you’ll be put in, if you’ll be needing any feminine products. I promise, anything I ask is for your own good.” Seeing kids like Ellie is a painful reminder of just how lucky your own little ones are, it’s a wonder she made it this far. You can’t hold her skepticism against her, her distrust is why she’s still alive. “Would it help if we brought your father in? He’s just down the hall with Maria.” You aren’t sure why, you typically handle every stray but she had insisted on helping you out today. She’d spewed some sort of excuse about how Ellie might need some special attention but as far as you can tell she’s in the same state that most kids are in when they arrive. 

“He’s not my dad.” She’s quick to say it, as if it’s a sore subject. 

“May I ask his relation to you then?” Maria had told you she arrived with her father, you were told to expect one teenage girl and one man in his fifties.

“He’s… my friend?” She sounds unsure, unsure enough to ring alarm bells in your head. 

“Honey, are you in a safe situation? We can help you if you need-” She doesn’t even let you finish your question before sitting up straighter.

“No, no, no, gross, it’s not like that, he’s not like that.” The look of disgust on her face brings you immense relief, this world is full of enough horrors for a young woman to face. 

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Even if she hasn’t been through that, she hasn’t had it easy, no one has. But there’s something distinct in her eyes. Loss. She’s seen more than enough of it, more than anyone her age should. Her eyes keep darting to the door, her head tilts in that direction every time someone walks by. She’s worried about her companion. She doesn’t want to lose him too. “I know none of this makes sense, and you have no reason to trust me but I need you to try Ellie. And if I ask you anything you aren’t comfortable with then you don’t have to answer but I need you to try, please. The faster we finish up here, the faster you can get back to your friend.” 

She takes a moment, you’re practically holding your breath when she finally nods.

Perfect, you can work with a nod. You love a nod, a nod is all you need to help this girl.

“Let’s start with your age again.” 

“Fourteen.” You’ll have to have a menstruation kit sent to whatever house they put her in, most people’s cycles start being regular once after a few months in Jackson.

“Thank you.” All you get is another nod yet you can’t help but smile. “Do you know where you were born?”

“No.” Her eyes are trained on your shoes, occasionally darting around the room but staying low for the most part. 

“Where did you grow up?” 

“The QZ.” The thought makes you sick for several reasons. The last place a child should grow up is the streets of a quarantine zone, even if she was in the FEDRA program it wouldn’t have been easy. The thought of any QZ still makes you queasy, even after this long. 

“Which one?” Anywhere but Boston. 

“Boston.” Of course. With your luck she would be. Someone’s far from home.  

“FEDRA program?” As terrible as they are, they always keep the kids' vaccinations up to date, one less thing for you to worry about. 

“Mhmm.” 

“How old were you when you left?”

“Fourteen.” How the hell did she make it to Jackson all the way from Boston in such a short period of time? Why come to Jackson at all? There’s certainly other QZ’s between here and there, there’s probably other settlements too. 

“Can I ask why you left?” It’s not a question you need to ask but your stomach is in knots at the mention of the Boston QZ and you can’t help yourself. 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Something flashes across her face, she isn’t trying to be rude, she simply doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“That’s fine.” You don’t need to worry about it. She doesn’t know him. There’s no reason for her to know him. QZ’s house hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There’s no reason to spiral over nothing. “Do you have any allergies that you’re aware of?”

“Nope.” She makes a popping sound on the “P” as she leans back in the chair, trying to look relaxed despite how on edge she still is. You decide not to put anymore pressure on her, it won’t do you any good. 

“How are you feeling physically? Any symptoms of illness?”

“Like infection?” You have to stifle a laugh, if she was infected the two of you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here right now. 

“I’m not worried about that, I mean something more like a runny nose or a cough.”

“Oh. No.” 

“Any skills in particular you’d like to learn? Our school system is a little less traditional than what you probably had with FEDRA.”

“I like science.” She sits up a bit, good, you’ve found something that piques her interest. 

“Then I will make sure you’re enrolled in some science classes. But I meant skills like agriculture, construction, or veterinary care. Something you could learn about that interests you. You won’t be asked to help out around town until you’re sixteen but we like to let you explore different things to see what you like-”

“Could I learn how to shoot a gun?” She leans forward before you can finish your thought. 

“You could apprentice some of the hunters, we could also have you trained for patrol and scavenging which involves gun safety and training courses. You’re a bit young for those but I’m sure I could ”

“Really?” You can tell by the inflection in her voice that she still doesn’t trust you entirely, even if she’s excited.

“Of course, you’ll probably be the youngest student in the training class but I’m sure you can handle it.” She needs something good in her life. You want to protect everyone who finds their way to Jackson but this girl makes your heart ache. Most adults you’ve worked with aren’t able to hold themselves together this long, putting on a brave face despite everything. 

“Do you like burgers?” You almost cringe as you say it, hoping she’s had food outside of the synthetic shit FEDRA produces.

“I guess?”

“I’m having a little cookout tomorrow evening once everyone’s finished their work, it’ll be small, just me and some family but you’re welcome to join. You can bring your friend, I have two little ones you can play with. They might be a little younger than your usual friends but I promise they’re great company.” You swear she almost smiles, and suddenly you just want to make this poor kid smile. “You know, I’ve got a telescope in my garage, so if you stop by it’s all yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, I’ve never even touched the thing so maybe you can put it to good use. Let me write down the house description for you, it isn’t too far from this building, you can stop in whenever you want tomorrow. There’s an empty house across the street as well, maybe I could show it to you, see if you like it.” You pencil it down, tearing the paper and handing it to her. This isn’t something you’d typically do but you can’t resist an opportunity to help her feel more at home here. 

“Yeah, I mean that would be great.”

“Perfect.” You lean back in your chair. “What sort of hobbies interest you?” You’ll be in charge of putting together a welcome basket for her since Maria has marked her down as a permanent occupant.

“Reading, I like comics. And I used to draw a lot in the QZ.” Perfect, books are easy to find since Jackson was built around a small library.

“Okay then, I think that’s all I need from you for now but I’ll be around soon once you get housing settled. You can go join Maria and your friend if you’d like, I have to figure out what house we’re going to put you two in but I’ll be stopping by later with a few things for you.” That actually isn’t all you need from her, there are more questions on your mind, one specific question. Ask her what his name is. 

“Thanks.” She stands, quickly heading towards the exit as you grab your notebook, you need to make a list of everything they’ll be needing. 

You shouldn’t. If by some stroke of misfortune you’re right this question will only serve to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to push away. You shouldn’t.

But you do. 

Before she’s out the door you call out her name, you don’t want to know, but you have to.

“Ellie, what’s your friend's name?”

You found the treehouse two months after you found Jackson. 

With tears streaming down your face you had dropped the twins off at Maria’s, mumbling apologies before going to the edge of town, a large amount of Jackson was empty, and still is. They’re planning for the future. Someday, generations from now, the town will grow and they’ll use these houses to accommodate families. But for now it’s just an empty town, one that you realized had a treehouse. You had hidden yourself away there, curling up into a ball to become as small as possible.

Tommy had found you hours later, shivering, with no more tears left to cry. And he hadn’t chastised you or asked you why you’d done it, he’d just taken your hand and walked you home. It doesn’t take him hours this time, only about thirty minutes according to your watch. You hear the crunch of his boots, the walking pattern you recognize as his, and the creak of the boards as he pushes the hatch open before sliding up into the small space with you. 

Before he speaks you’re already reaching for him, desperate to cling to some kind of familiar safety. 

“Hey darlin’.” It’s a dance you two do, fluid and instinctual as he pulls you into his arms, you slot yourself between his bent legs as he wraps himself around you. You used to sit like this when you couldn’t find shelter on snowy nights, one of the many habits you had trouble breaking when you found Jackson. Maria would never ask you to change your relationship with him, it was a decision you had made with Tommy when he told you he wanted to marry her. A part of you just sort of knew she didn’t like it, so you stopped. And you’d never hold that against her, if the roles were reversed you certainly wouldn’t be as kind as she’s been. That’s why you’ve always loved Maria, since the first day you met her she has been like a sister, patient but blunt with you. 

Except in this one instance. 

She withheld some particularly important information.

“The twins?” You lay back against him as you mumble.

“Maria’s watching them. They’re helping her make dinner, you shoulda’ seen them in the kitchen. I swear she’s the only person they listen…” His voice trails off when he feels you tensing up all over again as you go back to fighting off tears.

A silence falls between you, familiar and reminiscent of your first few days together out in the woods. And just like back then, you’re the one to break it. 

“Have you seen him yet?” The words feel small and hoarse in your throat.

“No. Couldn’t bring myself to.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, you wish you could find comfort in any of this but there’s just too much dread. Too much unease fills your stomach to relax. 

“Does he know you’re here?” You wish your voice didn’t tremble so much.

“Maria didn’t tell him.” 

“Are we sure it’s even him?” 

“Not a lot of Joel Millers walking around during the apocalypse.” It’s like he can sense your skepticism as he quickly continues. “She said he looked like a Miller.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like me but grayer.” Fair enough.

“Does he know I’m here?” There’s no way. He couldn’t. 

“No.” 

“Good.” 

“Can’t stay that way forever.” You know that. But you don’t have anything to say about it so you move on, and redirect the anger that mixes with your confusion and fear.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” He can’t take your side in this, as much as you want him to, he has to take her side because her’s is the rational one. Do you have a side? Can you be mad at her for this? Are there even sides?

“Probably because she knew we’d react like this.” His head tilts a bit to rest against your own. You’re thankful for this position so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“She should have told us.” You’re trying to remain calm but your voice is pitching up higher by the minute. 

“She was going to, she just didn’t know how. She thought she had more time” 

You need to relax. It feels like your heart is going to burst from your chest and you’re certain Tommy feels it too. 

“How did he find us?” He wouldn’t have been looking for you specifically, unless he had a death wish. 

“On accident, I think. Maria said he was looking for me when they found him.” That makes sense. It’s just a coincidence that you’re also here. He has no way of knowing that you even know Tommy. How he managed to locate him is another matter. 

“We’re two thousand miles away from the QZ, how the fuck did he find you?”

“He always gets what he wants.” 

You can’t argue with that. Plain and simple, you don’t need much more than that. 

“I don’t want to see him.” An impossible request, but you make it anyway. 

“We both know that isn’t possible.” 

“Tell her to send him away.” Also unlikely. 

“You know she can’t do that, we don’t turn folks away from Jackson.” 

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Like hell you will.” There is no fight in his voice, just certainty as he holds you a little tighter. Not without me. The silent promise that lingers under his words, but it’s more complicated than that now, you have two toddlers and he has a wife, there is no running away from this. No running away from him

He’s inevitable. 

It doesn’t matter if the world ends, and you run halfway across the country, Joel Miller is inevitable.

“He’s got a kid.” You mumble as you reach for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the warmth of his skin against yours. 

He scoffs. “He’s got two.”

“Another kid, some girl. He brought her here all the way from Boston.”

He shifts a bit, clearly confused. “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d know, it isn’t exactly in his nature to help the needy.” 

He pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, how old is she?”

“Fourteen.” 

“Well there’s your reason, Sarah was fourteen.”

Sarah.

A girl you know very little about other than the fact that she’s your daughter's namesake. Sarah Ruth Miller. It had been Tommy’s idea, you had only picked out a name for a boy and you owed Tommy everything for keeping you alive that long, so when he asked if he could pick his niece's middle name you’d been more than happy to oblige. 

It hadn’t been Joel who told you about Sarah, he never even told you he had a kid. 

Tommy had told you about it just before the twins were born. You’d been snowed into a cabin and he’d just returned from hunting with a grin on his face as he told you he had a surprise. You couldn’t sleep, between the cold and the pain in your lower back you were just too uncomfortable most nights. Tommy always insisted on staying up to keep you company even if he ended up falling asleep most of the time. 

That night he told you about how he lost his niece on outbreak day as he skinned the fox he’d caught in one of his traps as you sat beside him in front of the crumbling fireplace. When he finished the story he held up the pelt and told you he was going to make your babies first blanket with it. 

Of course at the time neither of you knew that he would have to make a second blanket, or that he would need to do it a month sooner than either of you had planned. 

“I invited him to dinner tomorrow.” No sense in hiding the fact from him, he’ll find out either way. 

“What?” His hand tightens around yours and it’s your turn to comfort him as your thumb rubs circles against the tense skin.

“Ellie- the kid, I invited her before I knew about Joel. Even told her she could bring him.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds now. Of course you invited him to dinner completely by accident, sounds like something you would do. 

“Then why don’t we just get it over with?” Or you could leave, brave the Wyoming wilderness with your kids and his wife and make a run for it, far, far, away from Joel Miller. 

But you can’t do that. 

So you might as well get it over with. 

“Together?” You bring his hand up to your face to warm the icy skin of your cheek.

“Together.” 

He means it. He stays with you until the next day, walking you back into town and bringing you to his house. Maria starts apologizing the second the two of you walk through the door but you just hug her. She doesn’t owe you anything, any anger you thought you felt towards her was misplaced. 

And you all settle in for the night. 

On particularly bad nights you’ll spend the night at their house. It’s been happening less and less these last few months but it’s an unspoken decision tonight as Maria brings down sleeping bags from the attic for the kids. 

You tuck the kids in by the fireplace, hoping that they don’t catch the vacant look in your eyes as you kiss their foreheads. Thankfully they both seem to be too excited about having a living room campout to notice. You hear hushed whispers from the kitchen, it sounds like an argument so you just sit on the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you stare out the window facing the street. 

What house did she put them in? There are a few options for temporary housing, but he could be anywhere. The thought makes you nauseous. Thankfully you’re distracted when you eventually hear Maria stomping up the stairs followed by a sigh from the kitchen before Tommy joins you on the couch. 

“Everything all right?” You mumble, hoping to not wake the kids as you offer up some of the blanket to him. 

“It will be.”

God you hope so.

“How do you wanna do this?” 

Good question. 

Preferably you wouldn’t be doing this at all, instead you would be enjoying what might be the last nice day before autumn sets in entirely. You, Arthur, Ruth, Tommy, and Maria. You’d still be happy if Ellie came over by herself but that’s so unlikely you don’t even consider it an option. Joel’s too protective and you confirmed with Maria that Ellie would be coming. He won’t let her go alone, you know that better than anyone. 

You rub the back of your neck with your freehand. “The kids stay inside with Maria.” Ruth is already there, helping her aunt with the salad as Arthur sits in your lap, playing with a few stones he’s set up on the picnic table. 

“Okay.” Tommy’s biting his nails, you’d spent weeks reprimanding him about that until he broke the habit.  

Your knee starts bouncing, a nervous habit of your own that you’ve had for as long you can remember. Thankfully Arthur simply hums to himself as you bounce him. As far as you can tell neither one of the twins knows something is wrong, you can only hope it stays that way. 

“We can wait for them out here, I can ask Ellie to go in and help Maria with the kids.”

“And then?”

You frown in contemplation. “I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“So you didn’t plan for the most important part?”

“Did you?” 

His teeth shift when you ask, biting down hard enough to split his nail lower than he intended. You watch as blood blooms there while he curses under his breath.   

“Shit, go inside and grab a bandage, they’re in the cabinet above the sink.” He stands as you wave him towards the house, he brings his thumb to his mouth, his brow furrowed. “And bring Maria and Ruth out with you when you come back so we can go over everything with her.” He nods, humming in response before he disappears behind the screen door.

“Is Uncle Tommy okay?” When you look down you’re met with a worried look plastered on your son's face. You instinctively cup his face with your hand, using your thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. He looks too much like his father when he does that. 

“He’s okay, love. He’s just gotta go get your Aunt and Ruth.” You lean down, kissing his forehead before turning to set him down next to you. 

“Okay, Mama.” He seems satisfied with your response as he gives your leg a little pat before running off towards the edge of the yard. You’ve got a patch of rocks and gravel the kids like to dig through. You turn to watch him, with your back now leaning against the picnic table as he crouches down, examining the ground before finding a suitable stone. Clutching it in his hand he rushes back to you, holding it up for your approval.

“Very pretty, thank you.” You take it from him with a smile, setting it behind you on the table with the rest of them. He repeats the process several times, staring down at the ground, scrutinizing each rock before bringing the ones he deems good enough over to you. You give appropriate oo’s and ah’s to each one, grateful for the brief peace your son is able to give you. He carries on with this for sometime, until you have a sizable pile of rocks beside you. 

He leaves, and he returns, dozens of times until he decides not to return to the patch of gravel. 

You thank him for the speckled stone he hands you now but instead of running back across the yard he squints, staring up at your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” He hops up onto the bench next to you, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt and bunching it up in his little fist as you give him a soft smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, hon.” You ruffle his hair a bit but he doesn’t seem convinced. 

“Why’d you make a mad face then? Uncle Tommy too.” 

So much for the kids being clueless, they’ve always been too smart for their own good. 

Shit.

You sigh, looking up at the clouds briefly before looking back down at him.

No sense in lying to him. “You know how Uncle Tommy has a brother?” You wrap an arm around him, pulling him close.

His face scrunches up a bit as he thinks. “Yeah…” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced as you give him a reassuring smile. 

“Well, we don’t really- we don’t always get along with Uncle Tommy’s brother, and he’s gonna be visiting us soon.” 

“Why?” 

“He’s in Jackson for a little bit, and he came a long way to get here-”

“No Mama, why don’t you like him?”

This is a conversation you had hoped to have with your children when they’re older. Preferably it would be one you wouldn’t have to have at all, but it’s just another unavoidable part of Joel. They’re already old enough to ask questions, it started when kids in their class began asking if Tommy was their dad. Which of course led to the twins asking you one night just before bed the same question. 

“No love, he’s your uncle, who told you that?” You don’t want that rumor going around, people already talk about it, it doesn’t help that they both bear a resemblance to him.

“No one, Annie asked us.” Your daughter answers as you brush some of her hair behind her ear.  You recognize the name, it’s a girl in their daycare class. 

“And what did you tell her?”

“That we just got a mom.” Ruth answers but Arthur picks up the second she’s finished speaking. 

“Do we have a dad?” He tilts his head to the side as you swallow loudly. 

“Yes, you do.”

“Where?” Ruth asks. 

Last you’d heard he was in Boston. 

“I’m not sure.” They turn and look at each other before turning in unison towards you, you should have known they wouldn’t take that answer. “We lived together for a little while, in New York, and then we got separated.” None of that means anything to either of them but it’s an answer, which is better than nothing.

Arthurs tiny hand squeezes yours, pulling you back into reality. You often wonder if they know when you’re lost in a memory, he looks up at you curiously. What did you do to deserve such a patient child? 

You take a moment to think of a way to phrase it. “We… got into a fight. A long time ago.”

“About what?”

“Grown up stuff.” Your heartbeat quickens, you don’t want him to know about all that, he’s too little, you need to end this conversation.

“What kin-“ When he starts another line of questioning you poke at his sides, sliding him off the bench in a fit of giggles. 

“Time to go inside, nosy little man.” You follow after him as he rushes away, brown hair that’s just starting to curl at the ends falling into his eyes as he runs away from the house.

You catch up to him within a few steps, scooping him up and cradling him like a baby. He lets out a high pitched shriek until you squish your face into his cheek, kissing the rosy skin until he quiets down to a few small giggles. 

“Your aunt needs some help in the kitchen, you’re gonna go play with her and your sister now.” He nods as he squirms in your arms until he’s more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his chin on your shoulder as you walk him back towards the house. 

He’s gonna need a nap soon, which means Ruth is gonna need a nap soon. Maybe you should try and get them both down before everything else happens. 

Right on cue, Tommy pushes open the door with Ruth on his hip, Maria not far behind him. Based on the smiles they’re both sporting you can assume they’ve made up. They always do. 

“I think it might be time for these two to head inside.” Tommy gives you a soft smile and for a single second you get to pretend that everything’s fine. Maria takes a lighter towards the grill, trying to light it as you go to stand next to Tommy, the twins both grinning at each other. 

In your own little bubble, everything is completely fine, and you’re with your family. 

And at the end of your single perfect second the bubble is popped. It all happens before you’re ready, although you doubt you could ever really be ready for this. 

Maria pockets her lighter, mumbling something about going inside to look for matches after a few unsuccessful attempts. You set Arthur down, nudging him in her direction, he quickly runs towards her, taking her hand as she begins to make her way back towards the house. Tommy wraps his free hand around your shoulder. Giving you a reassuring squeeze as you rest your head against him to stare at your little girl. 

“We’ve got this.” He gives you another squeeze but you’re struggling to find safety in it. He’s always been the strong one, the confrontational one. He’s got this. You don’t. You tilt your head to stare at him when Ruth’s gaze goes from your face to his but your head snaps to the side when you hear your name called. 

Everyone looks up. The twins, Maria, Tommy, and you, as Ellie walks around the side of the house and waves at you. The sound of your name makes the man walking behind her look as well, his all too familiar scowl scanning the yard, softening into a look of disbelief when his eyes settle on you.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“I don’t like havin’ you out there on your own. I worry too much.” He mumbles the words against the back of your neck as he tightens his hold around your waist. At some point the two of you had stopped pretending you’d wake up any other way and just went to bed like this. “Stay here, angel.” 

You’re so comfortable you almost consider it, but you ran out of cards last week and you’re cleared for work as of today. “I have to go if I want to sign up for any of the well paying shifts, Joel.” You peel his arms off of you, sitting up as he matches your movements. 

“Don’t sign up for that shit, it’s always somethin’ stupid or dangerous.” His voice is low and thick with sleep as he wraps his arms back around you. “If you need somethin’ I’ll get it for you.” He hasn’t shaved in a few weeks, his coarse facial hair rubs against your shoulder as he murmurs. 

Who knew big, scary Joel Miller could be so clingy. 

The most surprising part of your relationship, if you could even call it that, with Joel is just how needy he is. You don’t have any problems with it, it’s just a bit of a shock. Although maybe needy isn’t the right word. 

Protective. 

You’ve left the apartment two times in total since moving in with Joel, both times you insisted on needing air much to his dismay. He accompanied you around the block without a word the first time. The second time was the same, the only difference was that you stopped to buy a small bag of buttons, Joel had frowned as you made small talk with the older man sitting behind the table before rushing you home. 

“You could have just told me you needed buttons.” He grumbles as he holds the door open for you as you make your way to the kitchen table, taking a seat as you take his flannel off of you, the sight of your tattered sports bra serves as a reminder of how badly you need to get back to work once you’re cleared. 

“I don’t need buttons, you do. Every shirt you own is missing at least one.” You laid the shirt down on the table, pointing to the drawer next to the sink. “Get me the sewing kit.” His frown deepens but he does as you say before sitting down across from you.

Reaching across the table he sets the box down beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Still, you should have just asked me.” 

You open the small tin, unspooling a bit of thread. “I needed to go outside for a few minutes, it’s stuffy in here.” 

“We could have opened a window.” He grumbles under his breath as you grin, holding the thread between your teeth while sliding the other end through the needle.

“It’s not the same and you know it.” You mumble through your teeth before releasing the thread and setting the needle down. You pour the buttons out onto the table, searching for one that best matches the beige of the buttons on the flannel. Eventually his hand encompasses your own as he guides you to one that’s a slightly different shape but matches the color perfectly. “Thank you.” You give him a teasing smile as you place it over the frayed threads where its predecessor once was. 

That was a week ago and you haven’t been outside since but when Joel went to get the mail from downstairs he brought you a notice from the doctor that you were cleared to return to work today. Despite his protests you start to push the blanket off of you but he’s quick to pull it right back up into place.

“Stay, please.” He continues to hum against your skin. 

“I need the money, Joel.” You turn to look at him, his usual morning sulky look seems doubled today.

“How much do you need?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he lets his face fall forward, his forehead resting on yours. 

“It’s not like that.” You swear, if you asked him to, he'd find a way to give you the moon and stars, but you hate relying on him for everything, especially after such a long time of being dependent on him. “I just need to work.”

“You don’t need to. You want to.” His breath still smells like whiskey from last night as he gives you an exasperated glare. 

“Fine, I want to work. My leg’s fine now, you can barely tell anything was wrong with it. I’ll be okay.” You lean just a bit more towards him, kissing his cheek before sliding out of bed. 

You aren’t exactly dating Joel. 

Dating seems so trivial during an apocalypse, and you haven’t had any conversations about it. It just sort of happened. You woke up one day and neither one of you wanted to pull away from the other, and it progressed from there. He came home from a job one night and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping himself around you and he kissed your forehead before falling asleep. You still don’t know if he knew you were awake. The next night you’d taken his face in your hands and kissed him, just to see what he’d do, thankfully after a moment of shock he’d kissed you back. And it just became another unspoken part of your life with Joel. He kissed you goodbye when he left to go do the things he refused to tell you about in any detail, and you always greeted him with a kiss when he returned. 

But you don’t have sex. 

You want to ask him why but you hold your tongue, it’s possible you’re just being impatient or maybe he just wants to wait. So you don’t push it or bring it up because you like how things are with him. 

The word boyfriend is not a word that suits Joel. 

He isn’t your boyfriend, he’s just sort of, yours. 

“Angel, please.” He continues his griping as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Joel, please.” You repeat back at him, trying to mimic his low tone.  

“I’m bein’ serious. Things have gotten bad out there recently, too much FEDRA bullshit.” 

“It’s always been bad and I’ve always managed, I’ll be fine.” You pull one of his shirts out of the closet, slipping it on, starting to button it as he makes his way to the end of the bed. 

“Can we at least talk about this?” He rests his elbows on his knees as he hunches over. The morning haze on his face is gone and is replaced by the stern scowl you’re used to. 

“There isn’t anything to talk about. I’ll be careful, there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll see you tonight.” After digging through the dresser drawers you eventually find your only pair of jeans. Once your boots are laced you walk back over to him, standing between his legs and taking his face in your hands. 

Staring down into his surprisingly gentle eyes, so dark that in the dim morning light they look pitch black. 

God he’s pretty. 

Even with that stupid pout of his. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” You lean down, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling away only to be stopped when his grip on your waist tightens. 

“Just- wait.” You’re about to push him away with a laugh but his voice cracks just enough to make your smile drop. 

You start to speak in a soft tone but you only get one word out. “Joel…” 

“Please- I just- I can’t let you go out there and sign up for that shit. There’s jobs that aren’t dangerous, simple stuff.”

“Those jobs pay a few cards at best, hon. I can’t wear your clothes forever, I need new underwear, socks, all sorts of things. And I want to contribute around here, I’ll be okay, I promise.” You push the mess of hair falling across his forehead back as you stare down at him. 

He looks so genuinely upset already and you haven’t even left yet, he’s making this far more difficult than you thought it’d be. “I won’t be able to do anything if I don’t know you’re safe. It’s dangerous for both of us, I can’t be distracted like that.” You sigh, long and loud as you drop your hands to your sides. 

The more you think about it the more it makes sense. He really does worry too much, and even if you don’t know exactly what he does for work, you know it’s dangerous. 

Maybe it won’t be so bad. 

“Okay.” You groan. 

“You’ll stay?” The corners of his mouth start to raise a bit. 

“I’ll do the safer jobs.” The hint of a smile that had been on his face dissipates. “It’s a compromise. You can’t always get everything you want.” 

“Fine, come right home after.”

“I will.” With one more kiss he finally lets you go. 

So, at Joel’s request, you sign up for the easy jobs. 

They’re boring, and generally sort of terrible, and they pay the least, but Joel doesn’t make any further arguments about it. So you keep signing up for them. Typically it’s childcare, or filing documents for FEDRA, or working in the entry level food processing jobs. 

Boring, boring, jobs that involve standing around and doing nothing or wrangling kids who don’t deserve to grow up in a place like this. You hate the look on their little faces, they always look too grown up for their ages. 

But you put up with it, because at the end of the day you get to go home to Joel, Joel who seems to be in significantly higher spirits ever since you’ve agreed to those specific jobs. So you make it work. He makes it worth the banality of it all, at the end of your first week back to work he surprised you with a large paper bag, grinning like you’d never seen him before. When you unfolded the crumpled bag you were greeted with a mess of fabric, different colors and textures. You poured the contents onto the bed and immediately realized what he’d gotten you. Bras, panties, socks, and two pairs of jeans. It must’ve cost him a fortune and your eyes began to water immediately. You had wrapped your arms around him, barely letting go of him for the rest of the night. 

After that it got even easier, eventually you got used to it. 

You learned to live with the terrible jobs, and if you wanted anything you couldn’t afford with your meager savings Joel always managed to get it for you, even if you hadn’t told him you’d wanted it in the first place. 

You probably would have stayed like that forever if you hadn’t started taking the long way home. Weeks had passed before it happened, you had grown comfortable, vulnerable. Joel always made sure you felt safe and you let your guard down just long enough for something to happen. 

Joel had left early that morning, telling you that he was gonna be late, before he kissed you, he was out the door before the sun came up. 

Whenever Joel told you he would be late you took the long way home. Winding back alleys that were mostly empty that always led back to the apartment building. It was just a treat for yourself, something to do to fill time that would be spent at home, waiting for him. 

You never had any issues or alterations. 

Until that afternoon. 

Joel will be late. 

So the second your shift is over you take the handful of cards and make your way through the city. And just like you’ve done every other time, you look behind you every once and a while but not nearly as much as you should. Because of this, you don’t see him until it’s too late. 

It’s a younger man, probably a year or two older than you at most peering around the last corner you turned. Once he knows he’s been seen his pace quickens and instinctively you do the same. 

“On the ground!” The second you hear it you pray it’s for someone else, it has to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. You walk faster, hoping to avoid what could be a messy confrontation when the sound of boots slamming on the pavement rushes towards you and you’re forced up against the wall of the alley. 

In your peripheral you catch the white text against the black of his uniform. 

FEDRA. 

Your knees are kicked from under you as he pins your arms behind your back, the force at which your head hits the stone has you dizzy as you try to catch your breath. Too much is happening too quickly, when you finally feel like you can use your voice the wind is knocked out of you as you feel him hit you in the side, hard enough to have you wondering if he broke a rib. The force of the hit makes your knees crumble completely as the officer lets you fall, only giving you enough time to get to your hands and knees before his boot slams into your stomach knocking you onto your side. 

Finally, when you roll over onto your back you get a clear look at him. He looks like your average FEDRA officer, the only thing out of place is the unsure look on his face. Your ears are ringing so you barely make out what he says, all you catch is something about thinking you were someone else, before he turns and leaves as if it never happened.

Leaving you alone to clutch your stomach and wonder what just happened, and what you did to deserve that. 

You’d never heard of random attacks from FEDRA before. Maybe in other zones, but the city has always been calm as far as that goes. Maybe things really did get worse while your leg was healing. 

Joel was right. 

That’s all you can think about as you stumble to get to your feet, everything hurts but now is not the time to assess your wounds, you need to get home before something else happens. You manage to hobble up the stairs of the building, nearly collapsing by the time you opened the door. 

You feel so stupid. 

Joel was right. 

It isn’t safe out there, at least not for you. No one fucks with Joel, no one attacks him on the street because they’re afraid of him. No ones afraid of you. 

It’s a long couple of hours after that. 

Mostly a lot of berating yourself as you try to take in the extent of the damage. 

Surprisingly it seems to mostly be surface level. Sure, you’re going to bruise pretty bad and your face got scraped up on the stones but nothing permanent seems to have been inflicted. 

Once you’ve showered and slipped into an old shirt of his and a pair of panties you climb into bed, wanting this day to just be over, but you know it isn’t. Right on schedule you hear the lock click as Joel steps through the front door, you hide your face in your pillow. 

“What are you still doin’ up? It’s almost midnight.” His voice is a low whisper as you hear the familiar sounds of him kicking off his boots and setting down his things. You hear the outer layer of his clothing hit the floor, you told him a while ago you thought it was gross that he slept in the clothes he wore all day. He started sleeping in his undershirt and boxers after that. “You okay, Darlin’?” The bed shifts as he sits beside you and the second you turn and look at him his jaw twitches. “Christ… what the hell happened? Who did this to you?” He’s managing to stay mostly calm but you’re already worried he’s going to blow. 

“It’s nothing, I just had an issue with an officer on my way-“

“This is not nothing.” He’s already fussing with your face as you take his hands and move them away from you. 

“Joel-“

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a command and you’re too tired to fabricate something, and for the first time in a while, you’re afraid. 

So you tell him exactly how it happened. And before you realize it’s happening you’re sniffling, a part of you feels like you’re about to be scolded for this but he only nods, never interrupting you until you’ve finished. 

Your vision’s blurry with tears when you look up at him, the weight of being attacked starts to weigh heavy as you realize just how lucky you were that that was all that happened. And then you say the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“You were right, Joel.” 

“I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there to protect you.” He holds his arms open and you don’t hesitate as you lean forward into him. You do your best to hold it together as he lays you down before clicking off the lamp and pulling you back against him. He softly scratches your back, kissing the top of your head as he does. It’s silent for a few more minutes until he suddenly whispers into the darkness. “Tell me you’ll stay here from now on.”

“Joel, I-“

“No more going out there without me. You’ll stay safe right here, no one can hurt you here, not while I’m around.” You open your mouth to argue again but stop yourself. 

He’s right. 

Now that you’ve calmed down you know that you’re lucky to even be alive. You don’t know why you were attacked but you know it could happen again, and there are worse things than being beaten. 

No one would hurt you here, not with Joel around. 

“Stay here, angel.” He murmurs, softer this time. 

Joel is right.

“Okay.”

He isn’t beside you when you wake up, your hands searching through the cold sheets seeking his warmth. He had mentioned something as you were falling asleep about an early morning supply run but you had hoped to say goodbye before he left, you wanted to make him breakfast. As you get ready to roll back over and sleep a bit more you’re startled into an upright position. 

“You should watch where you’re flying, angel.” You bite back a shriek as Tess’s voice comes from the direction of the kitchen. 

“Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” Your heart skips a beat as you reach over to the nightstand, pulling on the little chain that turns the lamp on. “Joel’s not even here, what are you doing?” You don’t like the idea of being alone with her, she doesn’t come around much anymore, you used to see her in the hall on her way here constantly, but after you moved in she stopped. 

You do your best not to flinch as she makes her way over to you, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I’m not here to hurt you, there’s no need for theatrics.” You hadn’t realized you were shaking so badly until she said it, it takes a conscious effort but you manage to stop it for the most part. “I’m just here to talk.”

“About what?” 

“About you and Joel.”

You don’t want to talk about that with Tess. You don’t want to talk to Tess at all, she frightens you and she knows it. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” This time when you flinch she hesitates. For a brief moment the facade of a woman who fears nothing drops, and you swear you see sympathy in her eyes. “Joel is dangerous, you need to be careful with him or you’re going to get hurt.”

Is that why she’s here? To try and break you up? 

“He won’t hurt me, he cares about me.” You wish you sounded more sure of yourself. 

“You’re right, at least for now.” She flips her pocket knife open, ever so carefully running the blade along the underside of her nails, scraping away any dirt or grime she so happens to find, you fight the urge to flinch again. When she finally looks back up at you she takes a moment, examining your expression as if this was an interrogation. “Being loved by him is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a girl like you.”

You can’t help but scoff, now look who’s being theatrical. “A girl like me?”

“Good, too good. And fragile.” She points at you with the blade before returning to her nails. “He’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means breaking you into tiny little pieces, just so you’ll fit in a box he can lock.” 

You’re about to call her a liar but you hesitate. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know.”

“Okay, but why? You don’t even like me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you.” 

Fair enough.

“I think you should go.” You don’t want to hear anything else. You don’t believe anything she’s saying and the entire conversation makes you feel sick. She doesn’t know anything about your relationship with him, and she clearly doesn’t know anything about Joel. He’d do anything for you, you don’t think you’ve ever been taken care of before you met him.  

“What do you know about glue traps?” She doesn’t make any effort to leave so you decide to just answer her with a sigh. 

“Like the ones you use to catch mice? I don’t know, Joel buys them sometimes.”

She points her knife in the direction of the corner of the room, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. Sure enough, in the corner of the room, peeking out from under his dresser, is the faint outline of something on the floor, you’d never noticed it before. 

“It’s the worst kind of way to catch a mouse.” She stands, walking across the room and peeling up the trap with the edge of her blade before snapping it shut and taking the edge of the trap between her fingers, dragging it across the floor to the middle of the room so you had a clear view of it. “They’ll do anything to get out.” The tip of her boot nudges the corner of the trap, now that it’s been dragged into the lamp light you can see exactly what she wanted to show you. Two things are in the bloody trap. A mouse, barely alive, based on the way its chest rises and falls, and something else. A caterpillar maybe? 

No. 

A leg. A bloody mouse leg, on the edge of the trap. 

“They’ll chew off their limbs, and peel off their own skin just to get out, the ones that manage to are lucky enough to bleed out somewhere else. The ones stuck in the trap though?” She nods down at the creature you now refuse to look at. “They’ve got it the worst. Suffocation, dehydration, the ones who try to peel off and can’t, bleed out, stuck in place.”   

With a sudden crunch, her boot slams down on the trap. You watch, slack jawed, as she peels it off the sole before tossing it in the bin in the corner. 

“I’d take a quick death over either of those.”

“I think you should leave. Now.” You try to sound authoritative but your voice trembles too much to sound anything but afraid. 

“I heard you got caught up in some FEDRA business yesterday.” She starts again but you’ve had enough.

“Tess.” You manage to have a bit of sterness this time in your tone but it doesn’t seem to affect her much. 

“Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You catch that sympathetic look one more time before she unlocks the door chain, twisting the doorknob before speaking one last time. “I noticed some of our inventory is missing, this is the only warning you’re gonna get about that. If you want shit like that just ask, I’m sure Joel would be more than happy to have another way to control you.” She doesn’t turn around when she says it, simply slamming the door and leaving. You have no clue what she’s talking about, but that isn’t the part of the conversation that sticks with you. All you can think about is that crunching sound. 

So you avoided her after that, writing off her words as an act of jealousy. 

Joel would never do anything to hurt you.

Of course you know better now. She was just like you, she had been in the glue trap herself when she tried to keep you from joining her, but you hadn’t listened, instead you’d fallen face first into Joel. And he wouldn't let you go without keeping some of you for himself.

i don't have a taglist anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on all fics !!

[itoshi-s]

anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole

standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.

you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.

with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.

the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.

rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.

you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.

but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.

you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.

as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.

shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.

"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"

you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.

"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.

perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.

he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.

"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.

the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)

there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.

"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"

blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?

continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.

you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.

the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.

"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"

your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.

"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.

the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.

"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.

rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.

you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.

(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)

it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.

isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?

"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.

rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.

he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.

"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."

[morlock-holmes]

Notice in the post below that the only named task that the OP struggled with is homework?

Now, people diagnosed with ADHD or similar disorders often do struggle with tasks that we might actually want to do, but almost always, the diagnosis is linked in everyone's mind to an inability to do homework.

But homework is fucking bullshit.

I really think it's absurd to ignore that fact when talking about how you complete tasks.

"Gosh, my kid seems to have a lot of trouble focusing on dull make-work which I force him to do for two hours every single day, why could this be?"

I spent literally as little time in school as I could and still graduate. As in, by my junior or senior year the principal sat me down and said, "If you skip anymore school we aren't going to be able to graduate you from High School."

And yet... When I bothered to go, I got good grades. I did generally quite well on tests and did eventually graduate. I'm quite proud of that as an act of self-mastery but it does raise the question:

Why was so much energy spent on trying to get me to go to school for all that time when I was demonstrably able to get the benefits with literal years less work than they wanted me to put in?

Why was so much time spent trying to devote those years to schoolwork when it simply wasn't necessary for me to learn?

Homework is a microcosm of that whole question. I always wanted to know,

"So, if I can skip 60% of the homework and still get an "A" on the test, why do you try to force me to do it?"

And to this day I have never gotten a good answer.

So: I saw no value in most of my homework and that hasn't changed to this day.

So, here's a pop quiz for the people wondering why their kids with diagnoses don't do their homework no matter what planning and techniques adults supply them with:

What would your kid have to do to spend less of their valuable time on homework?

"Well, if they just knuckled down and got it done..."

BZZT! WRONG! You get a "D-" on this test and I really hope you apply yourself more to the next one, you have so much potential...

If they "forget about it" then they have to do even less.

Now, of course that means that your kid is in a state of constant stress from avoidance. They are thinking, "Man, I'm going to get in so much trouble for not doing this, but I just can't seem to force myself to do it, and anyway I don't fucking want to."

You think that they'd be better off spending two stressful hours on their homework and then being able to relax the rest of the time. They feel like they'll be happier not doing it at all and feeling a vague undercurrent of stress as they go about their leisure time.

What's the third option if they want to spend less time on homework?

Oh, nothing? Is it nothing whatsoever until they graduate from school?

This is infuriatingly counter-productive. We spend literal years teaching ADHD kids that avoidance and procrastination are the only ways to exert control over their lives in the face of unpleasant situations imposed from outside.

Now, in point of fact this is absolutely not the case for adult life, which offers a plethora of ways to reduce pointless make-work imposed on you by outside authorities and, in any case, rarely bothers to impose two hours per day of unpaid, unrewarding make-work on people anyway.

How much of the difficulty ADHD people have with cleaning the toilet or whatever is because psychologically, they still think of it as homework? Cleaning the toilet is not homework; it rewards you with a clean toilet at the end and it's entirely possible to defer it, or hire someone else to do it, or find shortcuts. But if the major psychological task of your childhood is homework, maybe it might take quite a long time to think that there could even be anything aside from homework?

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Duchess - A Sean Wallace/Sex Worker!Reader One Shot Story.

This mans has me feeling a certain way. Feral. So yes, you get to enjoy it, too!

Words - 1,810

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Sean Wallace is a man who thrives on the exertion of control, in every aspect of his life. Every facet is subject to meticulous planning and detail, his time valuable. If you are in his life, you serve to him a purpose, otherwise you are merely a waste of time he could spend being productive elsewhere. He enjoys the finely tuned machine that is building his life with those who serve him well in a professional capacity, and this is exactly why he sees you twice weekly.  

“I do not entertain the notion of dating or relationships. They're much too complicated. Way too time consuming.”  

He told you this upon your first meet, when you inquired why he sought the services of a high-class escort.  

“Trust me, you are exactly what I am searching for.” 

You aim to please, and god, what a pleasure it is to please him. He’s young, he’s powerful and he’s incredibly handsome. And rich, wealthy enough to afford the high price tag attached to the services you provide. And goodness, how the man can fuck. Sometimes, you often think it should be you paying him for the way he so expertly pounds you into your bed.  

Rarely do you enjoy yourself so honestly with a client, have the pleasure you give to him matched in such delicious reciprocation. With Sean, he never deviates from being anything short of an incredible lover. 

‘Wear black tonight. You know I like you best in black.’ 

You tingle with anticipation at reading his text, knowing you only have mere hours to wait until your favourite client will arrive at your Wharfside apartment.  

Once your makeup and grooming routine has been executed pristinely, black Victoria’s Secret underwear donning your freshly bathed body, a black Gucci dress chosen, and perfume spritzed strategically, you are ready. He doesn’t keep you waiting.  

“Good evening, duchess.” Those words, delivered upon a silky-smooth, cut-glass accent causes heat to rise over your skin, Sean entering your apartment, waiting for you to lead him through to the bedroom. He always lets you lead. Why? So that his hands can wander over your body as your walk, appreciating the swing of your hips, the way the black cloth hugs your curves, to lay kisses upon the back of your neck as he closes the space between you.  

Feeling the heat of his body against your back has a flurry of heat gathering between your legs, your dress eased down, his strong hands smoothing over the fabric of your underwear. “You look sensational, as always.” With his mouth at your neck, you feel mindless already, but not so much that you don’t notice him discreetly place a smooth, white envelope upon the shelf beside the bedroom door, your fee within for the transaction you would happily give him for free, should this not be your chosen profession. 

It never feels like work with him, though. 

You turn to him, his eyes a chilling freeze of blue, the angles of his face shadowed in the low light of the room. Some sex workers insist on no kissing, feeling such an exchange too intimate. You’ve always thought that to be nonsense, taking into mind the intimacy of penetration. A man puts his cock in you, but his lips may not meet yours?  

No. Not in your bedroom.  

Your mouths join in sensual exploration, his tongue rolling against yours as your fingers begin to work deftly to undress him, revealing the utter grandeur of his body. Lithe muscles concealed within the expanse of pale, freckle flecked skin delight your eyes, your tongue circling his nipple before you sit at the foot of your bed.  

His thumb trails your lip as you look up at him, hands unfastening his belt, stripping him nude, perhaps the most impressive part of him already hard and waiting for your attentions. undoubtedly, he has the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen, and in your profession, you’ve seen many.  

“How much extra would I have to pay you, to not use a condom?” 

“You couldn’t afford it.” 

“I’ve never been fond of those who presume they can dictate my finances. Will another five hundred suffice?” 

“No.” 

“Seven fifty?” 

“No.” 

“A thousand, and a letter from my doctor confirming a clean bill of health, STI wise?” 

Never let it be said that Sean Wallace is not a skilled negotiator, that conversation between you many months ago the only reason why when your tongue runs in a slow, firm lick from the base to tip of his cock, there’s no latex barrier between them. He shudders, a breathy exclamation fluttering over his full lips as he feels the warmth of your mouth encase him, sliding down over his thick shaft, his fingers trailing your scalp as they comb through your hair.  

With your mouth working in slow, wet tease and your fingernails gently trailing up and down his back, you have him winding tight in no time, his groans deep and full bodied. “You always look so very pretty, when you have my cock in your mouth.”  

Watching you sucking upon him with such expert aplomb, his eyes the fall closed, his chest beginning to heave as his breaths shallow, the thick bulk of him twitching against your tongue. “Not that I do not adore your mouth, duchess, but for now, there is a place upon you that I wish to put mine even more.”  

Sparks of anticipation flicker through you as he pushes you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, hands roaming as he begins to scatter kisses across your neck. His exploration is slow, careful, his mouth laying kisses to every part of your body revealed from the removal of your underwear, the heat of his skin searing. His mouth takes time to lower, his tongue swirling your navel as his hands bracket your waist, lowering, lowering.  

You gasp softly, his tongue meeting the velvet of your cunt, dragging your slit firmly. A few more long, slow licks skim your folds, the hot roll of his tongue settling upon your clit, a radiance of pleasure blooming deep within you. Some men have no clue what on earth to do with a woman where pleasing her with their mouth is concerned; Sean is not one of them.  

Closing his mouth around you, he sucks at you, pupils inking into the blue as he feels the honey of your cunt bathing his tongue, a grunt welling his throat, hands grasped firmly upon your hips. You can see him smiling around you, watching as you throw your head back and cry out, knowing your performance isn’t amped up for effect. It’s all him.  

Your cries continue to sound the air in blissful sonnet, his tongue fluttering over your clit, featherlight licks making it swell, beating harder and faster, then back to gentle as the pleasure sears right to your marrow. You feel it settling deep, your core throbbing, purring with delight as your fingers skim through his hair, your back arching off the bed as you writhe against the heaven that is his tongue.  

Wet heat works your bud with the kind of skill that leaves you breathless, fire chasing frost through your veins, the feel of his neatly trimmed beard prickling at where you are soft and soaking for him offering delicious friction. He pauses, teasing at you with his fingers before they push inside, hooking, his lips planting hot kisses against your inner thigh, watching you begin to fall apart for him.  

The pleasure sparks like a flint strike, those little illuminations skittering over your nerves as he returns his tongue to you, gentleness gone as he lays keen, unrelenting licks across your clit. Pure ebullience beams brightly, your panting ascension chased by the punch of his fingers within the wet clasp of your cunt and the rapid flickers offered by a tongue that does not cease until you’re cresting hard for him. 

Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, thighs skimming his face as your flames catch against his edges, your release a glittered explosion that leaves you breathless and hungry to be parted around his cock. Of course, he reads your need, pushing your legs apart before sinking himself into you, your walls flexing as he splits you wide, mouth closing around your nipple to suck keenly, his cock bottoming out and dragging back so deliciously slowly, you feel on the verge of tears.  

Kissing the whimpers from your lips, he holds you beneath him, moaning against your tongue as he pushes forth again, gliding through the soaking mess of your cunt. He fills you entirely, mouth at your neck as strong snaps from his hips shock you, pulling out entirely, teasing you with the promise of him, chuckling at your frustration as he nibbles the soft skin of your throat.  

“Does the duchess crave it, hmm?” 

“Mmm,” you purr, stroking his handsome face, watching him catch your fingers between his lips and suck. “She always does when it’s you giving it.” 

He moans a laugh, kissing you. “Correct answer.” The silken glide of him has you lost in ecstasy, his mouth touring the other side of your neck, tongue flickering where your pulse flutters madly, filling and emptying you steadily.  

The rhythmic, contained pace is not set to last, the need with him coiling like an angry serpent as he gives each thrust with voracity, his short nails digging into your thighs as he sits back on his heels, watching how good it looks as his cock fills and enters you rapidly. 

He arrows you thoroughly, every last inch of him sinking into the wet clutch of your cunt as you open for him, panting hard, your moans filling the room as he has you spread and helpless before him, fucking you like a jackhammer. He slows then, thumb languidly swirling over your clit, each thrust more contained, dragging sparks as he scrapes your walls, bending to suck your nipples in turn with an aroused grumble.   

That slowness is abandoned once more, Sean railing you into the bed, loving the way you wail for him, hand stroking your cheek before he grasps your jaw in a strong grip, feeding you his thumb as he looks at you with uncontained lust. It escalates sharply, consummation rushing through you as lightning flickers at the base of your spine, striking home as he closes his eyes tightly and moans gutturally, spilling into you, thick ropes of cum warming your fluttering walls further. 

You lie breathless against one another, knowing that all he needs is a whiskey and half an hour, and he shall be all over you again.  

And he’s the one paying you. What satisfying work it is to be on the sexual payroll of a man both criminal in the streets, and between the sheets. 

[animeyanderelover]

Can i request Black butler with a very quiet darling and how would they approach them

Sure thing. You didn’t specify which characters so I just chose a few.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, clinginess, stalking, manipulation

Very quiet s/o

Ciel Phantomhive

☕️Considering that most of the people in Ciel's closer surroundings are a mixture of energetic, loud and chaotic except his butler he would most likely appreciate his darling for being on the silent side. Being in their company is far more peaceful as he can actually do something productive without being interrupted although he does wonder where your thoughts are in such moments. Ciel isn't the most talkative person himself and sort of expects you to not be someone who feels comfortable holding long conversations. So if he does strike up conversations with you, they're always on the short side so he does not make you uncomfortable and doesn't risk losing his face if you would decide to just ghost him. He might show some patience but that doesn't change the fact that Ciel is still awfully possessive so expect any potential suitor to disappear or to tragically die.

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛Ever the proud and arrogant demon, Sebastian can't help but see your quiet personality as a little challenge, one he is very willing to take. With the end goal of winning of course. Working for his master automatically means that he's also surrounded by very bubbly and talkative people so he finds the clear difference in personality in you very adorable. Sebastian is quite convinced that he can charm you with his looks and his flawless courtesy. He stalks you in your daily life, figures out your little quirks and uses that knowledge to start conversations with you, hearing your voice makes his dead heart flatter. Don't forget that the man in front of you is a highly possessive demon though, one who appreciates your quietness for the additional reason that it keeps you from interacting with others. Why not only talk with him and let him be the only one to bask in the pleasure of hearing your lovely voice calling his name?

Ronald Knox

😃Ronald blends in really well with others and is quite the chatty person himself which makes for a great contrast between him and his darling. Something that doesn't intimidates Ronald in the slightest though, instead he can't help but dote on you a bit more thanks to your quiet personality. He tries to talk with you quite often although he often ends up being the one who fills the silence most of the time. As long as he knows that he has your attention, he's fine with it though although it is a great achievement if you do reply to him without him having to ask you to do so. If he realizes that his attempts kind of put you off though, he pulls back for a bit, reluctantly that is. After all he prefers spending time with you instead of stalking you. Given your quietness though, Ronald can't help but grow just that tiny bit more protective and possessive over you.

Joker

🤡 Joker pays especially much attention to you, a new member of the circus of his. Initially some just assume it's due to your very silent nature as you rarely speak up or talk to anybody. As time passes by though others, especially his friends, realize that Joker has turned quite obsessed. He's highly protective over his darling and just as possessive as he keeps you around him nearly all of the time and acts hostile as soon as someone asks him about you. You find yourself isolated thanks to Joker who is for the most part the only person you can interact with as he uses his influence as the leader of the circus. Technically speaking he knows that he's doing something wrong but he just can't help it. He loves you so much and your silent nature only worsens his protective tendencies, he wants to hide you from the world. He doesn't mind your lack of words around others but by all means, please talk to him and let only him hear your lovely voice.

Alois Trancy

👅 Probably one of the worst people to handle someone who is as quiet as his darling is as Alois is a demanding and equally bratty person although he highly adores and even worships his s/o to a certain extent. The only thing that is certain is that Alois is bound to be highly possessive over you and very unwilling to let others near you. Talking with you is very tricky as you're a silent person but it gives him the impression that you don't like him which does nothing except triggering his paranoia and if you do have someone you open up to and talk with, you can bet your kidneys that Alois will see it through, after a great fit of jealous rage, that they will be gone. It should be him with whom you share your secrets and worries! He's the one made for you! Count on an abduction sooner than later and after that absolutely no break from the young noble as he's up your arse every minute of the day, all whilst begging you to talk with him.

Hannah Annafellows

🟣 Hannah is cunning and manipulative, especially once she realizes that you are her mate. Considering how silent of a person you are, it's a rather convenient situation for her. There most likely isn't a huge group of people in your life which means less work for her as there is no one she feels the great need to remove instantly from your life. Hannah enters your life very quick though although she makes sure to adjust herself for now to your own personality. She acts docile and careful around you, doesn't want to overwhelm you with her real side for now. If she could arrange it already, she would like to become your personal pillar as soon as possible so that there will be less troubles later on. She makes sure to be the only person you can really interact with as she scares everyone else away, creates an environment where only her and you exist. As it should be.

Ran Mao

🌺 I think it's a well-known fact that Ran Mao herself is a woman known to not be someone whose voice you will be likely to hear all too often too. Maybe that's what sort of sparks her interest in you to begin with, both of you are rarely heard speaking up at all. The lack of hearing your voice leads to excessive stalking as she desperately wants to hear what you sound like and the first time you actually do talk, she seems to become only more obsessed with you. She tries to respect your silence though since she herself isn't talking that much for herself either but if you do talk, expect her to hang onto every tone leaving your lips. Her lack of words is definitely made up with the amount of touching she does though as she's essentially like a cuddly and clingy kitten. Ran Mao is a professional assassin though and that spells danger for others as she grows quite protective over you.

Charles Grey

 🤺 Charles Grey just happens to experience a streak of boredom which is why he decides to entertain himself a bit with you, a simple game to crack your silent shell and charm you as you don't swoon over him nor pay him much mind. The only thing is that you're quite a hard shell to crack as you don't give in much despite the man's attempts to provoke you slightly and tease you. Unfortunately that only earns you his obsessive interest in you as Charles suddenly pops up around you on a daily base to try to chat with you and attempt to get under your skin by teasing you and annoying you. If he gets any reaction out of you, especially a verbal one, he sees it as a win. He'd like to clarify that he doesn't hate you though. He can confidently say that he wants you and for that your silence around others fits rather well since it quenches some of his possessive tendencies. Now how to teach you to only ever speak around him~?

[multidimensionalguidance]

SR Chart in-depth Analysis Part 1 🗝️

I thought it would be a good idea to write down an interpretation of how my 2024 SR chart might develop during this year, forget about it, and then revisit it during and/or at the end of the year! A fun experiment for me, even though I can honestly say that I've already been seeing the way it has been activating.

Note: please keep in mind I use sidereal and whole house system.

Libra ASC: this was the first thing that stood out to me when I saw the chart. I was already feeling an "upcoming glow up" vibe, and confirming it was hilarious. Even though Libra and Venusians in general are not just about appearance, they value aesthetics A LOT. I've already received comments on how my skin is looking amazing, and overall, just a lot of attention from others being thrown towards my appearance. So, aside from that more obvious aspect, I would say that this rising sign makes one feel more keen to developing and/or creating relationships of all kinds, meaning, that it is expected to become a tad more social during this year. Romantic relationships, creativity, arts, a need to be more diplomatic or neutral, and communication with others will become themes I will engage with a lot.

To give dept to this house, I pay attention to the where Libra sits in my natal chart and where it goes on the SR chart, also, where the lord of the SR ASC sits (strength, aspects, etc.) in the chart.

Example: Libra sits in my 12th house, and becomes the rising sign for SR chart. This tells me that a lot of my subconscious patterns will become more noticeable, particularly for relationships, and that those matters that are usually hidden about me are now put on the spotlight. Now, it's very interesting that the lord of my SR ASC moves to the 12th house, so its like there will still be things that are still kept hidden. Knowing me, I will be content with spending time alone and/or in foreign places, so I don't mind. Venus is debilitated, and I'm assuming that keeping to myself will partly occur from difficulties with possible insecurities, being overly critical or focused on self reflecting. Themes of feeling unworthy, and healing it. A great amount of attention being placed towards looks could definitely make one feel uncomfortable or unsure of why you're receiving it so much, and if it has to do with superficial reasons it can makes you feel unseen, as if others ignore your depth.

Scorpio stellium 2nd house: a focus on transformations occuring around money, resources, values, face area, food or products consumed, luxury, comfort, sensuality, and romance. I would expect a highlight and plenty of motivation to pursue all of these topics, since the Sun sits there conjunct Mars. Scorpios move quietly and under the radar, so there will be lots of secrecy on how I will exercise my power/drive, and also on communications around how I'm making money or managing my finances. Money from others moving directly into my pockets from foreign matters, contracts, writing/communication (9H ruled by Mercury), networking, social media, creative pursuits, romantic partner (11H ruled by Sun), somehow losses that turn into gains, expenditure, spirituality, and foreign residence (12H ruled by Mercury). In general, major important upgrades to the way I relate to Venusian matters.

Sagittarius 3rd house: even if houses are empty in a natal or SR chart they still hold meaningful information, but will of course be felt less in comparison to the houses that have planets. I see that my mindset, near environment, and communication will be a lot about/with foreigners, spiritual topics, traveling, and philosophy. The ruler sits in the 7th house, so it will also be mixed with my romantic life (with a foreigner), business, contracts, and other type of close relationships.

Capricorn 4th house: I don't usually pay much attention to Pluto unless its close to ASC or inner planet (Sun, Moon, Venus) but I will now for the sake of giving more context. There could be a major change of residence occuring or renovations of some sort. Home environment could be a bit chaotic or under frequent changes. Part of Fortune also sits there, so all of those transformations might actually be aligned with blessings or for a better outcome. The ruler sits in the 5th house with the moon, so it will definitely make me feel anxious and emotionally restricted or numbed. Luckily, I've had enough experience with Saturnian energy, so I know how to work through it until I find balance.

Aquarius 5th house: as I already mentioned above, with Moon and Saturn conjunct here it is likely that I will be feeling as if my emotions are harder to access which could cause anxiety, creative blockages, frustrations, or depression. Definitely will incorporate lots of yoga, nature, and emotional regulating activities during this year to keep that on check.

Pisces 6th house: with Rahu sitting there, I could see that my attention will gravitate around how I incorporate work, daily routine, health, and exercise with spirituality, creative endeavors, and abstract thinking. I had already experience gut health issues and almost all of those topics shortly after my birthday, so I can see how wherever Rahu is placed in a SR chart, there is a lot of movement for good or worse. With the ruler of 6H going into the 5H, I could see how work and health matters could exacerbate my emotional challenges.

Aries 7th house: Jupiter is siting here, and even though it is retrograde, the functionality of the planet doesn't suddenly stop occuring. It makes Jupiter have a more inward expression if anything. There will most likely be expansion or growth of romantic suitors (specifically male, since its in Aries), contracts, business, relationships of all type of relationships being upgraded somehow, and in general lots of luck with interpersonal skills. Those with whom I develop close relationships will become like teacher, or enjoy providing protection to me. The ruler sits in the 2nd house conjunct with the Sun, so others will either expand my resources or simply have an influence in it. Since its with the sun, it should be beneficial or empowering.

Alllllriiiight, I shall stop here for now and release the 2nd part at another moment!

[whatsa-bi-as]

light at the end of the tunnel

idolbf!Myung Jaehyun x GN!reader

plot; you write Jaehyun a poem to express how you feel

genre; fluff, established relationship

warnings; mentions reader is anxious, suggests that the reader has experienced mental health struggles at the end

word count; 0.8k

proofread; nope

networks; @kflixnet and @k-labels

Writing is something that you use to deal with emotions that feel like too much to handle. It’s a way for you to put the feelings swimming in your head into something that makes sense.

It makes sense, you were always better at literature, your strength was in essays and words rather than numbers. Poetry and books found a way to hit the parts of your soul no one but you could ever reach and it was a feeling you welcomed with open arms.

Then you met Jaehyun and all these feelings came flooding to the surface. None are particularly bad, bittersweet more than anything, he’s home in a person. He makes you feel safe in a way that no one else has ever been able to. 

That being said, there were so many thoughts in your head that you had to get out. After seeing him one day you lay on your bed and thought about how happy you are with him by your side, how you’re so proud of him achieving his dream, just how great it was that you’re able to call him yours. You just had to write it all down.

Normally you’d write on your laptop, watching as words filled the page as your fingers tapped on the keys, but as the screen came to life and the light filled your room it felt wrong. The poetry that you thought was the perfect encapsulation of love wasn’t written on a screen, so why would you put these feelings on an electronic page when paper felt better? 

So you went over to your desk, flipping through folders and notebooks for a page that wasn’t covered in notes or work, until you found it. It was a notebook covered with flowers that Jaehyun had bought you after you had told him about your love for writing. What better place to write your thoughts for the boy?

It didn’t take you long to write it. A few changes in phrasing and pacing but not even an hour after you had begun you were left happy with the final product. You want him to read it but the thought of him doing that in front of you left you anxious so you decide to sneak it into his bag the next time you see him.

You take him to a coffee shop not too far from your place and while he’s distracted with what to order you slip the poem into the main part of the bag, watching as it falls into the folds of the hoodie that he had brought with him.

The date went as they normally do, you sat and talked for hours just enjoying eachothers company for the few hours that you could spend together. After you went your separate way the anxiety began to set in. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks it’s weird? He’s your boyfriend, why are you sneaking love letters like a schoolgirl with a crush?

Your thoughts circled for an hour, going round in your head like clothes in a washing machine until your phone rang through the soft music playing in the living room.

“Baby did you want me to cry? ‘Cause that poem you wrote has had me in tears since I got home.”

The breath you let out was one you didn’t even know you were holding.

“So you liked it?”

“Liked it?! I’m having it framed, I’m getting tattooed! I want to keep it with me forever. It's adorable!”

You can hear his smile through the phone and a similar one breaks out across your face.

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe I’ll write you another one.”

“You better do. You’re an amazing writer and I love you.”

“I love you too Jae”.

Ending the call you head back to your room to find the piece you had written the night before. Reading it under your breath you understand why Jaehyun loves it so much. A postmodern style poem, although you’re pretty sure he didn’t notice that, that captured those bittersweet feelings that you had.

"I used to live in a dark tunnel

My eyes got used to it

And I felt safe sitting there

In the inky black

And then I met you

The light that you brought was blinding

When you smiled it was with a stream of colour

I never thought I’d see again

But I was never scared

Not of the changes,

Not of what would come

Because I had you

We sit and talk for hours

We dance in my living room

And we sing in your kitchen

And I welcome what is to come

Because I have you

I never thought that the tunnel would end

And if I could tell 18 year old me that it would

I don’t know if they'd believe me

But I suppose that’s because

They haven't met you"

[andromedastarrs]

Miguel O'Hara - Random Headcanons, All SFW! :)

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

Y'all enjoyed the other post a lot so here-- have some more of my brain rot! All of these are just fun things lol, interactions and quirks!

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

If he spots you and notices that you have bad posture, he'll point it out and tell you to straighten up. Even if others are around. "Unless you wanna live with back pain till the rest of your life..."

Clean cursive would probably be his preferred font to write in. When he prints his letters it's a total mess.

Definitely does not tolerate people who chew with their mouth open. He will glare at you, grab his plate, and move away.

Takes freezing cold showers. Headcanon because every health nut/gym person that I've met says it's the best for muscle recovery.

Doesn't like to watch TV in his free time, he's in front of screens all day. He spends it instead reading books, cleaning up his living area, putting on music and resting on his couch to let his mind relax.

Loud dad sneezes. Doesn't apologize for it.

Likes his coffee black. On his rest days though, he will add a little milk in there to treat himself.

Will order the biggest burger off the menu and successfully chomp at it with no issue. A part of me also thinks it would be in character for him to order a small meal and eat very... Well, he'd eat like a princess. LMFAO.

Is not religious but very respectful of every religion. I think if he were to have a spiritual S/O and they practiced a religion he didn't know much about he'd wanna learn about it by asking them questions.

I am TIRED of the racist Miguel allegations. I am a firm believer that because he is half Irish and half Mexican, if he were to be present in front of a racist, he wouldn't tolerate it. Also headcanon that he's not the arguing type. He'll just throw them out a window (exaggerating).

He loves cats and dogs, very gentle with both. Knows how to treat both correctly too. Doesn't own any pets though, he's scared of losing it one day.

Silently cries. Even when alone he's very quiet. His eyes get very red and so does his face, very quickly. No puffy eyes tho!

No time for skincare, but he's into biotech... Probably assuming too much, but if he could then why wouldn't he; he probably concocted some sort of "one in all" skin product.

On that note his hygiene is on point! He'd probably be so upset if he ever stunk.

Definitely dyes his hair. I do not believe that he doesn't have a single grey strand up there. If his S/O once said they liked the grey hairs, he'd probably chuckle... And then keep dying it anyways.

I think he'd choose to wear shorts over pants when given the chance to... Even jorts. It's ok, he looks good wearing them!

I think he'd like silver jewelry even though gold looks better on him. (He can pull off both *lip bite*.)

Doesn't like designer logos printed everywhere over his accessories/clothing.

Am i the only one that thinks he works out via Pilates AND weight training? Gotta stay flexible and stretched!

Likes to meditate, almost never has time to do so.

Sleep talker!

Very self aware of his size; hates accidentally coming into contact with other people.

Caught up with modern lingo in most places, doesn't participate in conversations surrounding it. "Have you heard what lingo the kids are using? It's absolutely bonkers--" "Yeah."

Try to talk to him in a silly language (think of that skibidi toilet shit), he'll respond instantly. Don't get the wrong idea, he won't be amused by your antics.

If he doesn't show interest in you then he's not interested in you. I'm a big believer that if you were crushing on him, you'd have to wait for HIM to show interest. Otherwise all your flirting will be rendered useless.

[theeccentricraven]

The 24th Day of Writemas 💚🤍❤️🌟👩‍💻✍️

It is now Christmas Eve! The last day of Writemas is here! Thank you so much @agirlandherquill for making Writemas possible!🫂 It helped me reach my writing goals, be productive, and get creative. I've enjoyed posting snippets of my writing. Thank you to all who have complimented and accepted this gift! 🤗

For the 24th Day of Writemas I chose the prompt "One day, everything we know will be gone. Until that time, you owe it to history to enjoy it." I liked how this and a couple of the dialogue prompts fit in with my YA Dystopias where a character speaks up against the oppressive region. I realized that it was something my Sanctuary Calling OC Luana would say in the scene where she invites Nari to join her cause, especially with the context of how the two enjoyed VR simulations with historic periods. This was a great excuse to write a scene I wanted to write for so long. I hope you all enjoy this girl 🎀🎁

___________________________________________________________

Luana sits in my tea table chair while I sit in my desk chair. She glances around at the old toys, Korean decor, and plane models. 

She looks at me as she says, "One day, everything we know will be gone. Until that time, you owe it to history to enjoy it."

I rarely hear something like this, if ever. The WC’s media focuses on the immortality of a civilization they believe will last for thousands of years. They describe humanity’s ancestors as fools who defiled Sanctuary’s beauty as a basis for how the WC will foster a greater humanity. 

“Yes,” I agree. “We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the hard work and sacrifices of our ancestors. We can’t take life for granted.”

I watch Luana’s face, taking in every detail of her long dark hair, observant dark eyes, floral crown and leis. A feeling tells me there’s something inside her, brewing in her mind. I have no idea. I brush it aside. 

She points at the models of my planes. “Is that why you do what you do? Making the most for our future just as our ancestors did?”

“Of course,” I say. “I mean I love it. From the time my father first taught me. I was really little. And if I can use what I love to create a better life, a better future for humanity, why not?”

Luana nods. “I…I should be honest with you.” Her voice draws melancholy. “I overheard that argument with your parents. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop….”

I sigh. “Oh, it’s fine. I was afraid you heard it. I’m not surprised. Honestly, that’s how it is every night.”

Luana closes her eyes for a second, then opens them. “I take it your parents have a different view of what’s best for the future than you do?”

“Well, yeah,” I say because of how obvious it is. “My parents are biased. They’re from families full of doctors. They believe medicine is superior. They believe I need to save as many lives as my father has to continue the family legacy.”

“I’m sorry,” Luana says softly. “Having to put up with that every night. I can’t imagine.”

I nod. “That's why it’s so important to go to the Lunar School. I’ll finally leave them behind. Do what I want to do.”

Luana tightens her lips. “Will it ever end though? What if five years from now, you’re an aerodynamics engineer and one of the best in the field. Will your parents talk about how proud they are of you? Or will they talk about what could have been?”

I hang my mouth open. I try to process. All that had dreamed the Lunar School would give me seems to drift away. “I never thought about it but…” But yes. For all that I envisioned of going to school, graduating, and designing the flying machines of the future, there’s not a light at the end of the tunnel when my parents are standing where the light should be. I know them well enough to know they will spend the rest of their lives ranting about what could have been, even if I develop the fastest flying land vehicle ever. 

I raise my voice a little. “Why are you saying this?” I almost forget the wonderful day we spent in the simulators with Myeongseong and Liliʻuokalani. I now wonder who this exchange student is who had to come into my life. 

Luana slowly looks around the room.

“Well?” I ask, losing my patience.

“Nari,” Luana says gently. “Are you able to turn off the home AI?”

“Oh, sure,” I say. I’m not supposed to cut Cho off from my bedroom, but my parents won’t notice if it’s only for a few minutes. If we’re going to keep talking about my parents behind their backs, it makes sense. “Jin, turn off Cho’s connection in this room.”

“As you wish!” Jin chirps giddily. 

“Also,” Luana adds, “are you fine with turning off your quant?”

I blink. I’ve never heard that phrase before. I suppose it makes sense for a few minutes if we want a private conversion. “Um, okay. Jin, turn my quant off.” I’ll have to manually turn it back on when we’re done, but I’ll live. 

Luana smiles satisfactorily. “Sorry for the secrecy. I have to be extra cautious with your parents. They’re so close to the Chancellor that I’d say they’re friends.” 

I chuckle. “My mom is friends with the Chancellor!”

Luana nods. “So I had to be careful.” She stands up. “Nari, what if I were to tell you that you have the chance to connect the roots of our ancestors with the present for a better future?”

I tilt my head. “I would ask what does that mean?”

Luana strides around me. I watch. 

“Nari, you are very different from everyone else. The speech you gave at the student aviation show. Everything that I’ve seen you do and say today. You have a good head on your shoulders. And a good heart. That’s why I’m trusting you with a secret. What if I was part of a group who knew a way to free you from your parents while freeing all of humanity? Giving you the chance to live your dreams? Giving your chance to walk where your ancestors walked? Enjoying the beauty of this universe?”

I freeze. I feel tingling. Butterflies in my stomach. Chills running up my veins. “I would ask what’s the catch?”

I turn to watch as Luana sits on my bed. “It doesn’t come free. It comes with a lot of sacrifice, but it’s worth it.”

I peer at her. I’m catching on to what our visitor is really about. I should have known back when I saw her profile’s bold bio line: You deserve to be free.

“Come on,” I say. “If you’re part of the Return to Earth Initiative, just say it!”

Luana laughs. “You’re smart Nari! Nice of you to call us that instead of the not so nice names the WC calls us.”

I tap my knee. “Look, I have no interest in reporting you. But I believe you’re barking up the wrong tree. Whatever you’re asking of me, forget it.”

Luana leaned forward. “I can walk away. I appreciate you keeping this a secret. If you give me a chance to make my case, will you listen? I think you want to hear it.”

“Ok,” I say amused. “I’m listening.”

__________________________________________________________

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[helloitstsyu]

you get to wear a mask | Tom Cruise [fluff]

my masterlist

Summary : As a celebrity, it's nearly impossible to go and to do normal life activities in public. So, as his girlfriend, you offer Tom a solution.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x female!businesswoman!reader

A/N : it's my first fluff y'all🥹, i hope you like it as much i love writing it. this makes me giggle so much as i imagine it. I wanna know what you think abt this one, talk to me, babes!

WC : 3157

"Babe! I'm gonna go run some errands, do you want something specifically?" You shout as you gather your things before you head out the door.

Tom walks downstairs. He just had finished making a phone call with none other than his creative partner, Christopher McQuarrie. Ever since he landed in Los Angeles this morning, he's been occupied with work phone calls.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

Lifting your head up you see your boyfriend walking towards you, he leans against the doorway of your kitchen and put his hands inside his trousers pocket.

"Grocery, we literally have nothing in here,"

You're a thriving businesswoman. A CEO of an e-commerce fashion startup. You constantly hopping between big cities for work, New York, Los Angeles, London, and Paris, that's why you decided you expand your assets and buying apartments in each city so that you don't waste your money for expensive hotel expenses. Hence, why you don't have anything in your LA home since you haven't lived here for the past few months.

Tom pouts, "I just finished my calls, and now you wanna leave me,"

You and Tom have somewhat of a long distance relationship. With him caught up and busy filming and you running your business. It took extra effort to spend time together with your man. Though, two of you are keeping one important rule, never spend apart for 2 weeks. And for so long you've been living to that.

You smile as Tom gives you puppy dog eyes. "Why? You wanna come with me?" You smirk.

Tom smiles, "If it means i get to spend more time with you, yes," Tom steps forward and pulling you closer by your hips, "But, you know... i don't think whole food is Tom Cruise friendly,"

You chuckle as Tom place a sweet kiss on your cheek, "i missed you so much, baby,"

Suddenly, the brightest ideas come to your mind.

"I have an idea..." You smile and wiggle your brows.

Tom crook his head as he sees that mischievous grin on your face. For as he thought, you might be plotting something that beyonds the world's expectations.

"This is not what i had in mind when you said you have an idea," Tom protests as you sit down in front of him. You turn your makeup bag upside down, and all of your makeup products rain to the floor.

"You get to wear a mask, Ethan, you love when you got to wear a mask, don't you,"

Tom sighs "Never i thought someone would use that line to turn against me,"

"Tommy, you love when i throws you movies references at you,"

Tom chuckles and shakes his head. You take your phone and turn on the camera. You start recording and put your phone on the coffee table, rest it to a coffee mug so it stands still perfectly.

"What are you doing? Why are you taping this?" Tom asks.

"So we can have memory to look back to," You said as you prop the camera.

"Nonono, NO! you're not recording this," Tom reaches to your phone.

"Thomas!" You slap his and before it can reach your phone.

Witnessing the look you have on your face and the shift in your tone, Tom feels like he just seen your inner mother gothel. He sighs and just gives in.

"You're not gonna post that, though,"

"Of course i won't! It'll be our sweet secret memory, yep?" You smile at him, and Tom only smiles back sarcastically.

"Oh, come on, Thomas! It's not like you haven't got your makeup done for carpets or films anyway,"

You take a few pumps of your foundation to the back of your hand. Dotting the product on several spots of his face, then you start spreading it evenly using your brush.

"Yeah? Well, my makeup artist doesn't have that devilish-mischievous grin on their faces,"

"Baby... i need you to trust me," you said seriously.

Tom grunts and stops protesting.

"This is definitely the wrong shade... you're much tanner than me,"

"Oh, great," He rolls his eyes.

You chuckle, "How do you usually have your makeup on?" You ask.

Taking your fenty cream contour, you swipe them on the back of your hand and mix it with the foundation to create darker shade. Et Voila, the perfect match to his skin.

"Just- what do you call it? concealer?... maybe a little foundation if needed, like if i haven't gotten enough sleep,"

"Yeah? You never have like a full face of makeup? Character makeup?" You ask again as you still apply foundation all over his skin.

"Um... not really, maybe for vanilla sky,"

"Oh yeah! i remember that... that was a scary face though, tell me bout it,"

Tom starts to tell the story about the David Aames makeup he had on Vanila Sky. Well, as you thought, work does stop him from protesting and whining like an annoyed little boy.

You giggle after finishing spreading the foundation and concealer evenly all over his face. His skin looks so good, better than yours even. He has such perfect, well taken care of skin.

You take your face pallette next.

"What's that?" Tom asks.

"My fenty contour and highlight stick, it's to redefine the shadows and highlights of your face, cause after i finish applying foundation, your face now is all in one flat tone." You said as you apply the bronzer and contour to his cheek and forehead.

Tom thinks for a moment, "Why are you teaching me this stuff as if I'm gonna need to do makeup to myself?"

You laugh. "Well, baby, you never know... maybe someday your makeup artist catches a cold before red carpet," Tom chuckles and shakes his head.

You continue to apply contour and highlighter on his face. After setting it all with a translucent powder and put some blush on his cheeks, Tom reopens his eyes with you grinning widely.

"You look different," you giggle.

Tom takes a peek on your phone screen to look at what his face looks like.

"Babe, you can't look yet!" You stop him from peeking, but he managed to get a glimpse of what he looks like.

"Oh god! You supposed to make me look unrecognizable, not girly!"

"Your skin looks beautiful tho, you have such nice skin,"

Tom rolls his eyes and grunts.

"Why do i agree to this," Tom mutters.

"Well, darling, you do this because you lo—" Your words stop at the tip of your tongue when you realize the L word hasn't come out yet. None of you have said the L word you've only been with him for a few months.

Tom realizes how your expression drops. He knows what you were about to say. The quick expression shifts on your face from cheerful to a saddened look, sends rushes of pain inside his veins.

"...I mean... You'd do this because you're an adrenaline junkie... right? You like challenging yourself. But i guess you don't have to... i-if you don't really want to," you look down at the scattering makeup products on the floor.

That makes his heart break.

These past few months, Tom has been feeling that bubbling-odd feeling inside him building. He knows he's hooked in deeply. He can't stop thinking of you. You're constantly on his mind, and he admires you deeply. He just hasn't got enough balls to say the word to your face. He's afraid that he's moving too fast.

Tom takes your hand, which is holding a blush brush.

"Come on, need more blush," he smiles.

Beat drops. Even that got your heart swims in wonders. Giggling again, you apply a little more blush to his face, and soon, the apples of his cheek look like a blushing porcelain doll.

Next step, eyebrows. You always love his thick eyebrows. You think it's a statement of him. You take your brow gel, and you brush his brow upwards, and diagonally, you try your best to make them look good.

"I always wanted to do your brows... but it's kinda hard though," you mutter. "Hmm... yeah they look good enough,"

And to make you happy, of course he gives in and lets you do everything to his face. Tom looks at you deeply. Those eyes that he's been giving you for the past 5 minutes starts to make your heart beats faster and your palm sweating. Those eyes are the reason you're here. Everytime Tom looks at you like this, you swear you feel like you've been sent to heaven.

"Stop that!" You chuckle and cover his eyes. He knows you get butterflies when he gives you those eyes and he adores that you try to pretend as if you're not flustered.

Tom chuckles, "I'm not doing anything, darling,"

"Shut up, help hold me this, Tom," you said, handing him an open eyeshadow palette.

"Close your eyes for me, sweet," you kindly ask.

Tom follows all that you said. You begin applying eyeshadow to his eyelids. Deciding to go for an angel eyes look to complement those beautiful emerald eyes.

"Ow! What is that?" Tom asks, look you back in the eyes.

"Just powder," you apply the other eye the same color of eyeshadow too.

"OW! It's like burning," Tom narrows his eyes.

"No, it's not!" You grin

"Right where you just put it, it's burning... seriously!"

You stop applying them and sit back straight. Looking at his eyelids, you try to find if something is wrong, if there's any redness or anything.

"Is it still?" You ask.

"Yes!" Tom grins

You chuckle nervously, "What if you're allergic?"

Just when you start to think he's being serious, you can see shift in his eyes. "What if?!"

"Don't lie to me! I can tell when you're acting!"

"I'm serious!" Tom exclaims, but the grin still stays on his face.

You apply more to his crease.

"Arrghhh," Tom yelps.

"Tommy, stop it! I can smell you lying!" You slap his shoulder, and Tom laughs.

You take your favorite maybelline mascara and your magical shu uemura eyelash curler.

"Wait, what's that? That looks dangerous!" Tom holds your hand down.

"Just an eyelash curler,"

"Nnonono,... don't bringing that thing near my eyes," Tom pushes away your hand.

"Tom,... tommy, relax, just trust me, Baby, come on," you try to stop him from pushing your hand away.

And again, he gives in.

"Look down," you told him to do, adorably, Tom misunderstood and buck his head down.

Pulling his head back straight, you chuckle, "No, baby, you look down with your eyes not with your head,"

"Don't poke my eyes,"

"I won't... i need you to relax, okay?" Tom nods,

"Aaahh..." Tom squeals as you clamp those beautiful long lashes.

You can't stop laughing to your sweet boyfriend's funny reaction. The fact that you have an older boyfriend, a grown man, more than that, your boyfriend is the freaking Tom Cruise. The guy who did daring stunts as his way to pay the check. Now you got him squealing like a big baby. Thank God you tape this moment.

"Okay, okay... I'm done," you said,

Tom sighs hard, "Jesus Christ! it was scarier than hanging on the side of a plane!"

You feel like your stomach starts to get hurt from all the non-stop laughter. This is the best thing that ever happened in your life. Tom Cruise, finally admitting to be scared of something.

"Okay, baby, Mascara, now this will be tricky, just trust me on this one, keep your eyes down and still, ready?" You ask.

"Wait, is that like waterproof? Can it come off?" Tom stops you.

"No, it'll come off,"

"How do i get it off?" He asks.

"You just rub it,"

Tom takes a long deep breath, "Okay, go" he said.

You start applying a good amount of mascara to his lashes. Rolling the wand on his lashes.

"I don't like it..." Tom whines like a big baby sissy.

You can't help but to laugh out loud.

"Aaaahh..., i don't like it," Tom cries again as you put mascara on to his other eye.

Feels like you have a full abs workout. Even you're tearing up from laughing too much.

Now, Tom looks gorgeous, jeez, he looks like a freaking poster model. His eyelashes are snatched and thick long. The sparkly pink and bronze eyeshadows makes his green eyes pop even brighter. Guess you were right, you always thought he'd be pretty too as a girl just as much as he is as a man. He has such a good genes.

You giggle, "you look so pretty, Tommy!" you smile.

"I'm gonna have to contour your nose though. You have such a manly nose, babe," you said as you picked up your go-to fenty contour stick again.

"Um... yeah?! because I'm a man??... I have a freaking annaconda under my pants,"

You gasp, eyes widen in shock, "TOMMY!" You slap his shoulder.

Tom laughs upon watching how your cheek burns in red cherry color. Tom loves to tease you and catch you off guard like that, making you flustered and burn in red.

"Can't believe you said that," you apply the contour again on his nose.

"Well, you like it, don't you?" Tom chuckles.

"I meant you have such a distinct nose! That's such a Tom Cruise nose,"

You blend the contour on his nose. Trying to make it look somewhat different than his famous nose. Tom can't stop grinning widely at you.

As you focus on making his nose look different, Tom looks at you deeply with that look again. The corner of his lips slightly curls up, his tender gaze glued still on you. His hands are on your thighs, softly caressing your smooth skin with his thumb. You feel butterflies fluttering inside of you again.

You giggle, "Can you stop looking at me with those eyes!" You cover his eyes with your hand again,

"What eyes?" Tom smiles wider, he holds your hand down and leans in to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Tom..." You giggle.

"Do i make you nervous or something, Miss Makeup Artist?"

You giggle as Tom sends attacks of sweet kisses on your cheek and neck.

"Tommy, come on, you're not done yet,"

Tom chuckles and sit back straight again. You steal a kiss before you put a nude pink colored lipstick on that lips. Then, you're all done with his makeup.

"There you go... oohhh look at you girl, you look so beautiful!!" You giggle.

Tom looks over at your phone screen. His jaw hangs wide open when he finds the result of your work on his face.

"Oh my lord!" Tom exclaims in a southern accent, which earning you to laugh even louder.

"Darling, what did you do to me?! I look like my sisters!"

You're rolling all over the floor. Bursting in loud laughter. Your stomach hurt and you can't stop some tears to spill out.

"Oh wait, i forgot one thing!" You take your setting spray and spray it to his face.

"What- does it make it not wash off?!" Tom asks.

You grin widely and nod, "Yeah,"

His jaw hangs and eyes widen, "Are you serious?!" Tom crooks his head to the side.

You chuckle, "Yeah... it won't wash off for 6 hours," You lie.

"DARLING!" Tom tickles your waist.

You laugh and hold down his hands. You hand Tom a mirror. He looks at his face closer with wide eyes. Scanning the details of artwork on his face. His eyes nearly bulges out off his head.

"SWEET JESUS! My eyes are scaring me!... Look at my lashes, they grew 2 inches more!"

You for sure can not feel your stomach. Your cheek burns from laughing too much. Feels like the muscles there have their own workouts.

Afterwards, you told Tom to change his clothes with your pink baggy hoodie. Your big hoodie still fits him like a normal-well-fitted hoodie, though this one is better  than his previous outfits that hug his body tightly, showing all of his muscles. You also insist Tom to put on your Jessica Rabbit's wig that you have, and you once use them for a Halloween party.

Later that day, You managed to take Tom Cruise grocery shopping in downtown Los Angeles without one person recognizing him. It was a mission accomplished. Well, some of the people there give him a weird look though.

Before you went to bed, you sent McQ the selfie of you and Tammy (you said to McQ Tammy was your new friend), and he too can not tell who's next to you at first! Took McQ a couple of minutes and a closer look before he texted back, "THAT'S TOM?! YO WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Tom comes out from the bathroom. "Honey! You send McQ the pictures?!"

"What pictures?" You act dumb as you eat your strawberries that you bought earlier.

"Oh you know what I'm talking about," He narrows his eyes and have his hand on his hips.

You giggle again, "yeah..."

"Y/N Y/LN!"

"Oh come on, Thomas, no need to be dramatic here, sweetie. McQ couldn't recognize you that means i did a great job... you too honey! You just went grocery shopping! I'm proud of you!" You come to him and kiss his cheek.

"That was your best acting too, baby," you tease him again. Gives him a playful wink as you click your tongue.

Tom looks at you still. His shoulders drop slowly as his gaze soften at you.

"Thank God, i love you," he said.

You feel your heart skipped a beat, and the clock stops ticking for a moment. You look back at his eyes with wide eyes. You stop chewing the frozen strawberry inside your mouth.

"What?" You ask with your mouth stuffed full.

"Of course i do, you're my dream come true, I was just afraid to say that too soon, but i can't help it any longer. And I don't expect you to say—"

Tom smiles and sits next to you, "You heard me... i love you, Y/N... i love you so much that i let you do shit to my face,"

Tears start to brimming in your eyes. You feel your heart warming up. Tom runs his fingers through your hair.

"... and I'd let you do it all over again if it means i get to be with you, i love you, darling," he smiles.

Swallowing the strawberry inside your mouth. Tears finally falls to your cheek, to which Tom quickly wipes away. "Y-you... love me?" You ask softly.

"I love you!" You cut him immediately.

Tom freezes for a moment before he smiles, "What?" He asks.

You smile, "I know i said to take this slow, but... but i love you,... Gosh, i love you so much, Tom,"

Tom smiles, wraps his hands around you, and brings you forward for a kiss.

ะ.⋆⸙͎۪۫⋆༶⋆⸙͎۪۫˙კ¸⊹

Tagging :

@malavera @call-sign-shark @tomsf18 @moondustfairies @katherineswritingsblog

[broodybuck]

Title: Looking for Something Real

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, pornstars, no refractory period, emotional sex, love confessions, denial of feelings, retired Avengers, top Steve, bottom Bucky

[ao3 link]

It's not really complicated. It's quite simple actually. Steve and Bucky are best friends who both decided to enter the porn industry after retiring from saving the world.

It wasn't exactly a difficult choice when the serum has them both lasting for hours with no refractory period.

The only rule they decided was that they'd never fuck each other. They accepted jobs at separate production companies for this reason but even the producers were begging to make a deal. To get the former Captain America and former Winter Soldier to do the dirty. It's what everyone wants but Steve and Bucky discussed it. Their friendship isn't worth a price and they don't want to degrade it.

Steve never exactly told Bucky the real reason for this decision. He didn't so much care about capitalizing on the friendship. For Steve, it was more raw, deep, and probably a lot of other words that weren't meant to be innuendos for porn but go pretty well anyhow. Steve knew the second he got intimate with Bucky, he'd quite literally reveal to the world how hopelessly in love he is with the guy.

He's pretty sure he doesn't hide it all that well but then again, Bucky never seems to notice. Like how jealous Steve gets when they talk about work. Bucky casually mentions which pornstars he has to fuck or how this guy was rough with him or this other guy had to play tender for a marriage scene. Steve nearly fumes hearing the tales regardless of the fact, he does the exact same thing for work.

But god, hearing how other people are using Bucky like a toy, throwing him around, getting to come on his face — yeah, Steve's less than thrilled with that. But obviously, he can't say anything unless he wants to admit why he's jealous. And he's never gonna do that.

The most shameful thing Steve does is watch Bucky's scenes in the privacy of his own home. Of course, he's subscribed to the company that hired Bucky. And even if his best friend found out that fact, he would simply excuse it as supporting him. Bucky would readily accept that lie. What Steve really spends his money on, is the nights where he shamefully jerks off to Bucky's videos on loop. He's not kidding, he's watched them all countless times.

The truth is, the videos make him sick. To see people who get paid to vandalize his best friend. But he's also helplessly in love with the man so watching every angle of Bucky's naked body be played with, pleasured, and manhandled gets Steve off so fast he seriously can't stop. He's addicted to it, he watches Bucky every night. He knows he has a problem, he knows.

~~~

One night, Bucky is over for beers when he slams his phone down on the coffee table and curses.

"What happened?" Steve asks.

"Just bullshit," Bucky snaps. Steve eyes him worried and Bucky relents a moment later. "I'm so sick of guys having an issue with what I do for a living."

"You on the apps again?"

It's another harrow in Steve's life. Bucky has confided in him that he still wants an honest relationship, a true connection with someone, and he's yet to find one since they've both begun their porn careers.

"Yeah," Bucky groans, dropping his head in his hands.

"Is it on your profile — your profession?"

"Like it needs to be? Everyone knows who we are, Stevie. The whole world had something to say when we started doing this."

"Right, yeah," Steve says unsure how to make this any better. And all he wants to do is make this better for Bucky, he'd do anything to give him what he wants.

"I just want something real," Bucky sighs, gripping his hair in his hands.

Steve puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sick of playing everything up," Bucky goes on.

"You thinking of quitting?" Steve asks with surprise.

"I don't know," Bucky sighs, letting his hands fall. He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes.

Steve wants to kiss him so badly right now, wants to make every hurt feeling in his body float away.

"I'd support anything you wanna do, Buck," Steve tells him. "You deserve something real, you do."

Bucky opens his eyes and looks tiredly at his friend.

"Don't you want that?"

"What?" Steve plays coy.

"Love?" Bucky says.

Steve nods but he can't say anymore because if he does the words, I'm already in love with you might spill out. And that's the reason he never tries to date because no one else will come close. Steve already knows this.

"You don't do a good job of looking, Stevie," Bucky scoffs.

I'm looking at him right now, Steve thinks but shakes his head.

"Since when are we talking about me? Here lemme look at your profile," Steve offers.

"You've seen it."

"Lemme look again," Steve insists.

"I'm over it. The apps are shit."

Bucky sighs digging deeper into the back of the couch and spreading his legs unintentionally. It makes a warm flush spread over Steve's skin.

All Steve wants is to make this right. Maybe he could do something for him.

"Then lemme make it real," Steve says.

Bucky turns to him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Make what real?"

"One night. I wanna give that to you."

Bucky sits up, swallowing tensely and staring at him firmly.

"What're you saying, Stevie?"

"I'm saying," Steve pauses to take Bucky's hand in his. It feels so natural that his thumb skims over the back of Bucky's hand comfortingly. "I can give this to you. It won't be for a job. It'll be with someone who cares about you and wants to make you feel good."

Bucky swallows again.

"Steve... you're serious?"

Steve nods. More than you know, he wants to say but doesn't.

"Lemme do this for you," Steve nearly pleads.

Bucky holds his gaze a moment longer.

"I thought we said we'd never—"

"It's not a scene," Steve cuts him off. "This is real. It's what you deserve. And tomorrow, we'll still be best friends. Nothing's getting ruined."

Bucky's eyes widen slightly like he can't fully believe what he's hearing. At this point, Steve wants this so bad he'd fully beg.

"You're sure?" Bucky asks.

"Kiss me," Steve commands and leans forward an inch.

Bucky's eyes go a little wider but then he leans an inch forward. They're so close now only one of them needs to move to close the rest of the space.

It's Bucky who does. And their lips collide effortlessly in a long, spell-binding kiss that's better than Steve's ever imagined.

They break apart and stare at each other.

"That was nice," Bucky says like he wasn't expecting it to be.

Steve has a lot more confidence now and he easily cups Bucky's face and draws him back in for another kiss.

They make out slowly and leisurely make their way to their bedroom. It feels like a dream. Like Steve's floating through the air with the man he loves in his arms, on his lips, lying on his mattress. It doesn't feel real.

He undresses Bucky so carefully, it's like he's unwrapping a glass relic. Bucky lies openly for him, letting Steve pull and tug each article of clothing until he's naked. And sure, Steve has seen every inch of the man a thousand times. Online and in real life, they've never been shy around each other. But tonight, he looks different. He looks like he was placed here for Steve to love and cherish and devour.

Steve's restraint is quickly dwindling. He moves fast to remove his own clothes and Bucky sits up to watch. Steve's skin burns under his gaze. He's never undressed for Bucky like this, not for him. Steve rushes forward and kisses Bucky hard, holding his face in his hands. He wants more, he wants all of him.

"Damn, Steve. Didn't think it'd feel like this," Bucky breathes after the kiss, his eyes still closed.

Steve smiles, he can't help himself. He's always known it'd be like this. Amazing. Steve kisses him again and slides their naked bodies together as he lies over him on the bed.

Bucky's hips are already canting up, gliding their erections together. Steve has seen him do this a dozen times on screen but actually feeling him brush against him needily makes Steve think he might die from the arousal coating his body.

He presses down and grinds over Bucky's hard cock. It makes the man moan. And oh, Steve's heard that sound too many times to count but tonight it's just for him. That makes Steve dizzy. He grinds against him again, kissing a line up Bucky's neck, sucking on the soft skin. Bucky moans louder, clawing at Steve's back.

"Fuck, Stevie."

"Yeah, I got you," Steve whispers.

He gets up to reach into the drawer of his nightstand for lube. He pours some over his fingers. Bucky spreads his thighs on instinct. It makes a flame simmer low in Steve's gut.

"It's nice not pretending, huh?" Steve notes and he tosses the bottle aside and circles his fingers around Bucky's rim.

Bucky licks his lips, watching Steve's fingers prod at him gently.

"Not having to play the part, be extra loud, draw things out," Steve goes on, pushing a finger inside. Bucky breathes in sharply, then relaxes.

"I want you to enjoy this, Buck. Come whenever you want, however much you want. Don't even gotta tell me, 'kay?"

"Fuck," Bucky groans and arches up as Steve pushes a second finger in. "Getting me hot when you talk like that, Stevie."

Steve nearly grins but he focuses on his hands and curls both fingers to find the spot he's looking for. A familiar moan tells him he found it and he basks in the feeling. He's been dreaming about opening Bucky up for years — decades, actually — and now it's finally happening.

Bucky takes what Steve says seriously because when Steve's up to three fingers and starts pressing repeatedly on his sweet spot, Bucky just comes. Easy and quiet, Steve could've missed it if he wasn't watching every moment.

"Jesus, honey," Steve marvels. "Beautiful."

He frees his fingers and wraps them around the base of Bucky's cock and sucks the head in between his lips.

"God," Bucky whines, arching up, greedy for more of Steve's mouth. Steve's happy to give it to him.

He slides down to the root and sucks him steadily. Bucky lets out a small whimper, a sound Steve hasn't heard from him often. He revels in coaxing a new sound out of him. He sucks harder from the reward.

Bucky comes again. And this time, he groans low and squeezes Steve's hair in his fist. Steve sits up and watches Bucky calm down. He looks so relaxed, so blissed out from the pure pleasure radiating through him. And the best part is, they've barely begun. Steve launches forward with excitement and kisses Bucky hungrily.

"Gotta start making you come," Bucky mumbles in between kisses.

"It's all about you, sweetheart."

"No, it's not," Bucky protests and flips them around, shoving Steve down into the mattress under him.

He slides down and slips Steve's cock in his mouth. Sucks on the tip light and teasingly. Steve chuckles a little. He's seen Bucky do this too and he never thought he'd be on the receiving end of it. He lets Bucky tease him and thankfully it's only a few more seconds before he swallows him down.

Apparently, Steve's letting go too because he completely loses himself in it. He basks in the feeling of Bucky Barnes, the love of his life, sucking him off. Steve comes, faster than he's ever let himself but it feels too good not to.

Bucky's smirking at him when he opens his eyes. Bucky leans down to kiss him, one small peck on his lips.

"Haven't seen you lose it so fast," Bucky comments.

Steve stills for a moment, reality dawning on him.

"You watch my stuff?"

"'Course," Bucky shrugs casually and lies on Steve's chest leaving another small kiss on his mouth. "Gotta keep up with my competition."

Steve frames his face, combing his hair back with his fingers.

"We're not competition, Buck."

"I know."

"All I ever wanted was this," Steve says before he can stop himself.

He feels Bucky still above him and for a split moment, he believes he's ruined everything. It's over. But then Bucky shakes his head at him.

"Why didn't you ever do something about it?"

"I didn't think you were..." Steve feels himself blush viciously.

"Interested?" Bucky finishes with a scoff of disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me. I'm the one who said we should do porn — as a joke."

"What?" Steve sits up abruptly, moving Bucky up with him. Bucky slides off him and runs a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd go for it. But then you agreed and I thought why not? Maybe we'd do scenes together. But then you said we should never work together."

"Wait, you weren't serious? Why would you go through with becoming a pornstar if you were kidding?"

"I don't know, I was really horny. And I couldn't believe Steve Rogers was gonna be a pornstar. I guess, I figured I could watch you anytime I wanted..." Bucky blushes with the last part, looking away.

A beat of silence falls over them.

"I watch you all the time too," Steve says quietly.

He feels embarrassed admitting it even though they're sitting naked on his bed. Bucky looks at him again.

"We're so stupid."

Steve laughs, he has to, "we really are."

"Fuck," Bucky says, staring at him.

In a flash, it's like the lust takes over again. His eyes darken and he surges forward, kissing Steve with renewed passion. Steve kisses him right back, snaking his arms around him and pulling him back on top of him.

"Can I... Buck?" Steve asks dazedly. "I've been waiting so long, this feels so rig—"

"Yeah, you can fuck me already," Bucky cuts him off with another kiss. "Don't gotta get all sappy on me."

Bucky rolls them over, landing on his back with Steve above him now. He smiles up at him so sweetly. Steve has never been more in love.

By the time Steve gets inside him, Steve feels high. It feels so damn good to be inside him. He slides in and out of Bucky at a slower pace than he's ever fucked someone. He can tell Bucky is growing impatient when he grabs Steve's ass and forces him deeper inside his ass. He thrusts his hips up in urgency.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Steve breaks into a hard and brutal pace. But hearing Bucky pant wildly with a drunk smile strung across his face is what makes Steve really lose it.

"Fuck, fuck," Steve curses under his breath and grabs Bucky's ankles, pulling them over his shoulders and fucking him harder.

"Yes, god. Finally," Bucky cries and that's it for Steve. He's gone. He's coming hard, eyes sewn shut, hips still ramming forward incessantly.

He doesn't stop when he's done. He still has more in him and so does Bucky. They smile at each other. Steve leans over him, bending him in half and fucking him deeper. Bucky can kiss him now, dirty and wet with his tongue. Steve loves that. A few more minutes of that and he comes again.

Bucky's on his lap after that, riding him savagely. Steve has fantasized about Bucky riding him like this far too many times. And worse, Bucky's kissing him all the while like he needs air. Like he's never needed anything more than Steve's cock and tongue inside him at the same time.

They come together the last time, groaning in unison. Bucky slows on his lap and they breathe hard against each other.

"Christ, Steve. That was..." Bucky pants, pausing to catch his breath but Steve can't wait for him to finish. He needs to tell him.

"I love you."

Bucky looks up, meeting his eyes in astoundment.

"I'm in love with you," Steve repeats and he doesn't regret it. He's still inside the man and he doesn't care, he just needs to let him know.

Bucky kisses him. That's his first response. Steve kisses him back although he assumes it's Bucky's way of distracting him because he doesn't feel the same.

That's okay, Steve tells himself even as tears threaten to sting the backs of his eyes. It's okay. He keeps kissing Bucky.

Bucky finally draws back and frames Steve's face in his hands.

"I love you too."