#would love to get to know my mutuals more

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: FLASHBACK TIME !!!!!

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authors note: guys ive lowkey been picturing things as i would direct them in a film or music video so 😭 if my writing angle feels off then thats why. but i hoped u enjoyed anyway !! if u still arent on the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <33

you stepped out of the sleek black car, your heels clicking against the pavement as you’re greeted by a wall of flashing lights and the low hum of the press. the red carpet at the love, simon premiere was buzzing with excitement, packed with celebrities and industry professionals.

this wasn’t your first time walking a carpet, but it was different tonight—there was something in the air, an energy you couldn’t quite place, but it felt like just another event to get through.

you paused in front of the photographers, striking a few effortless poses. to everyone else, you looked like you were in your element—smiling, waving, and giving the cameras exactly what they wanted.

but inside, you were already thinking about when you could leave. you were there because the director was an old colleague from your recent work on tempest, your breakout role. it was your agent’s idea to make an appearance, to be seen and keep your name in the buzz, but you hadn’t really planned to stay long. just the premiere, maybe the afterparty, and then home.

as you moved down the carpet, a journalist caught your attention. “y/n, over here! a quick word?”

you nodded, stepping toward the microphone with a gracious smile. the flashing bulbs intensified as you answered questions about your latest projects, your outfit for the night, and how excited you were to see the film.

“you’ve been busy with tempest—how’s that going?” one interviewer asked.

you offered a polite smile. “it’s been great. we’re still filming season two, so it’s been pretty nonstop, but i’m thrilled to be here tonight to support this movie. i’ve heard such good things about love, simon.”

you kept your responses short but engaging, giving just enough without going too deep. after a few more quick exchanges, you excused yourself, nodding to your team as you made your way inside.

the grand theater lobby was filled with more celebrities and industry insiders, everyone dressed to the nines and mingling, but you were already scanning the room for a drink. maybe a glass of champagne woule make the night pass quicker.

your mind was preoccupied, already drifting toward the idea of heading inside early, when you felt yourself bump into someone. you glanced up, ready to offer a quick apology, but the words froze in your throat the second your eyes locked with his.

he was tall—taller than you expected—with broad shoulders, and his hair was just slightly tousled like he’d been running his hands through it all night. he’s startled at first, like he wasn’t paying attention either, but the moment his gaze met yours, there’s a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. maybe recognition. maybe awe.

his lips parted slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but he didn’t. instead, he just stared, clearly a little stunned. for a second, you felt like the noise of the room faded into the background, like it was just the two of you standing there.

“sorry about that,” you said first, stepping aside to give him room, your voice casual despite the strange pull you felt from his gaze.

he blinked, shaking his head quickly. “no, no, it’s my fault. wasn’t paying attention.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered, and then finally added, “i’m drew, by the way. starkey— drew starkey.”

there was something familiar about the name, but it didn’f immediately click. “nice to meet you, drew,” you replied with a small smile. you glanced past him, ready to move on, but he didn’t make it easy. he was still looking at you, like he was trying to memorize your face, like he’d just seen something—someone—he didn’t want to forget.

“you’re—” he began, but then cut himself off, a little embarrassed. “i mean, i know who you are.”

you raised an eyebrow, curious now. “oh yeah?”

he nodded quickly. “yeah, you’re amazing on tempest. my sisters are obsessed with the show, but i started watching it, too, and— yeah, you’re great.”

his words tumbled out fast and you couldn’t help but be a little charmed by how genuine he sounded. he wasn’t smooth like some of the other people you’d met that night—he wasn’t trying to impress you with industry talk or big names. he was just . . . honest.

“well, thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm a little. “that means a lot.”

there was a brief pause, and you could see him struggling for what to say next. the thing was, it wasn’t awkward—it was kind of endearing. finally, he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “sorry, i didn’t mean to fangirl or anything.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “don’t worry, you’re fine.”

he was still standing there, not moving away, and for some reason, you didn’t feel like walking off either. maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like he couldn’t believe he was even talking to you. it’s a look you’d seen before, but it felt different coming from him. there’s no agenda behind it. just . . . admiration.

“so,” you started, trying to keep the conversation going, “what brings you to the premiere?”

he blinked, like he’d forgotten why he was even there. “oh, uh, i’m actually in the movie.”

and that was when it clicked. drew starkey. you heard the name before, seen it in casting lists, but seeing him in person, you hadn’t put it together until now.

“right,” you said, nodding slowly. “that’s why you looked familiar.”

he chuckled softly, but there was still that slight blush on his cheeks. “yeah, that’s me.”

the conversation flowed a little easier after that. you asked him about the movie, and he asked you more about tempest, genuinely interested in your work, not just going through the motions like so many others do at those events. he was funny, too, in a shy, unassuming way that caught you off guard.

as the crowd around you thickened, his eyes never left yours, like he was completely captivated. you weren’t sure how long you stood there talking, but it was long enough for you to forget about slipping out early.

and then, before you knew it, the lights were dimming, signaling that the movie was about to start. he glanced toward the theater doors, then back at you, almost hesitant.

“well, i guess we should head in,” he said, sounding a little disappointed that your conversation was being cut short.

“yeah,” you agreed, though part of you didn’t want the night to end either. as you both moved toward the entrance, something pulled at you to say more, to affirm the spark that had ignited between you. you abruptly stopped in your tracks. he turned to face you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“i’ll catch you at the afterparty?” you told him, your voice light and teasing. you watched his face break into a genuine smile, the kind that made his entire demeanor shift from nervous to gleeful.

with that, you turned and headed toward the theater doors, the buzz of chatter and laughter enveloping you. you could feel drew’s gaze lingering on you as you walked away.

you knew you weren’t on the cast so it would have been unexpected if you showed up. but you knew that he’d be there.

as you navigated through the crowd, you couldn’t help but glance back one last time, and in that instant, you caught drew watching you, his expression soft and hopeful. a faint smile tugged at your lips, and finally, you disappeared into the crowds of guests entering the theater, but the memory of his gaze stayed with you.

the afterparty was a vibrant swirl of lights and laughter, complete opposite to the behavior of the premiere just hours ago. you stood with leila, theo, and gia, the four of you navigating the home.

after a few minutes, you spotted him across the room, laughter dancing in his eyes as he talked to a small group. you excused yourself from your own conversation, weaving through the crowd until you found yourself standing beside him.

and soon, time seemed to slip away as you both dived into deeper conversations about your lives, your careers, and the dreams you’d harbored since childhood. drew opened up about his recent experiences filming, and you found yourself sharing the struggles and triumphs of your own journey in the film industry. every moment spent together felt natural, as if you’d known each other for much longer than just a few hours.

by the end of the night, the party winder down and guests began to trickle out. you exchanged numbers, both of you eager to see each other again. and you did. time and time again.

you paced around your apartment as you gestured animatedly. throwing your hands in the air, your eyes widened with passion, as if you were trying to grasp an idea that was just out of reach. drew leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching you intently with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“i just wanna have some time to go out there and have some fun,” you were telling him, “be there in the moment, explore la. not with any paparazzi there to demand photos of me or take them when i have my guard down. just me and the city.”

as you spoke, your gaze shifted toward the window, where the sun peeked through the window across your living room. you imagined yourself outside, feeling the sun on your skin, surrounded by the pulse of los angeles.

spinning around quickly, your face lit up like you’d just had a revelation. “like starstruck!”

“starstruck?” drew echoed as he squinted his eyes, trying to grasp your idea.

“yeah, you know that one movie on disney? christopher and jessica are running around los angeles in that one scene—” you continued.

“—before they get their car caught in that mud and christopher ditches her at the beach,” he interjected with furrowed brows, knowing full well how the scene played out.

you stopped abruptly, narrowing your eyes at him. you tilted your head, “you wouldn’t ditch me, would you, star?”

drew shook his head, “no way.”

satisfied with his answer, your expression brightened again, and you nodded vigorously. “good. then come on.”

you grabbed your keys from the table and practically dragged him out of your apartment. the door clicked shut behind you, and you led the way down the corridor.

as you made your way into the parking garage, your laughter rung out, echoing off the concrete walls. when you reached your car, you slid in and grabbed your sunglasses from its compartment to slide them on.

drew chuckled as he put his seatbelt on, shaking his head in disbelief. “you really have a plan for everything, don’t you?”

“only when it comes to having fun,” you replied, your grin widening as you pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to shield his face. “don’t worry, they’ll never see us coming,” you assured him, your laughter infectious as you started the engine and pulled out of the parking garage.

and over the course of a year, you and drew became inseparable. what started as stolen moments during movie premieres and secret hangouts morphed into a deep, unshakeable friendship.

laughter echoed in your shared memories—late-night talks sprawled on the floor of your apartment, spontaneous adventures through the streets of los angeles, and lazy mornings spent in bed, wrapped up in each other's warmth.

as the seasons shifted, so did the nature of your connection. the boundaries blurred, and your heart raced at the thought of what could be. but you both chose to keep it light, enjoying each moment without the weight of labels.

then one evening, everything changed. it was a night like any other. the winter air was crisp as you and drew strolled through the twinkling streets of los angeles. you were coming back from a cozy evening out, the laughter still lingering between you as you recounted the highlights of the night.

as you walked, the sound of distant pops drawed your attention. you paused mid-sentence, eyes widening as bursts of color lit up the night sky. fireworks!

the brilliant reds, blues, whites, and purples filled the air. a smile spread across your face as you turned to him, the shared excitement pulling you closer together.

“this is so cute,” you said, leaning into drew’s side to admire the display. you were momentarily lost in the beauty, the chaos of colors exploding above you like confetti.

but then you spotted something in the midst of the fireworks—words began to form in the night sky, each letter crafted from the brilliant light.

‘will you be my girlfriend?’ the phrase appeared among the colors, messy yet somehow legible.

you read it, confusion washing over you at first. someone was asking someone else through fireworks? but as you turned to drew, you noticed his gaze, expectant and hopeful. the realization quickly sunk in.

your mouth gaped open in shock, your heart pounding as you processed what was happening. you looked back up at the sky, needing to confirm that this moment was real, that the words were genuinely meant for you.

but you turned back to drew, and without thinking, you nodded. before you knee it, you were jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, and holding him tightly. he caught you effortlessly, and you could feel his warmth seep into you as he hugged you back, pulling you close.

you could feel the happiness reflected there, and for the first time, it felt official—no more questions, no more uncertainty. you were exactly where you wanted to be.

and just two years later, you and drew found yourselves on the set of hellraiser, a project neither of you anticipated becoming a part of when you first met. it’s actually funny how it all unfolded.

initially, you weren’t even considering taking the role. after all, you were still knee-deep in filming tempest. the thought of juggling both projects seemed overwhelming, and you were ready to prioritize your current work over anything new.

when drew secured his role in some film, he kept the details to himself, not wanting to distract you from your current commitments. he didn’t mention the movie by name, and you didn’t press him for details; you respected his space and didn’t want to add to your own frustration about whether to accept the new opportunity.

“you should really consider it,” he urged, his voice filled with genuine belief in your talent. “this could be a great chance for you, babe, and imagine how much fun you could have! you’re almost done finishing tempest this month. after that, you’ll have plenty of time for your new project.”

you weighed his words, feeling torn. you loved the idea of the role, but the reality of juggling two major projects felt daunting.

yet, after a long talk about chasing new opportunities and taking risks, you found yourself swayed by his excitement and your own desire for growth. finally, you decided to go for it, officially signing on for the project.

what you didn’t realize, until the casting announcements were made, was that you and drew would be filming in the same movie. when you heard the news, you actually went insane. you felt like the universe was rewarding you for taking that leap of faith. the two of you would not only be working together but doing so on a film that promised to be both challenging and thrilling.

as filming began, the reality of being on set with drew hit you both like a wave. the two of you were navigating the intricate dance of being both co-stars and romantic partners, which brought its own set of challenges.

you found joy in the little things—the shared lunches, the whispered jokes during scenes, and the late-night talks about the original film. every day, you felt grateful to have him by your side, knowing that while the world outside the set may have been chaotic, your little bubble was filled with warmth, support, and your boyfriend. not everyone was able to be in your position.

but it wasn’t the same anymore. at least a year later. you were in another city, staying in yet another hotel room, the kind where the silence hung heavy in the air, almost suffocating. the glow of the city lights outside filtered through the curtains, casting a soft haze over everything.

you rested your back against the cool surface of the wall as you stared out into the city through the window. it was strange—the city was vibrant, loud, yet all you felt was isolation. your reflection stared back at you, tired eyes searching for something, anything, to hold on to.

you let yourself imagine drew standing beside you, his arm slipping around your waist, the warmth of his presence easing the ache that had settled deep inside.

but it was just a fantasy. he wasn’t there. not really. not the way you needed him to be.

he was somewhere else, in another city, on another set. networking. working. living his own life. you both were—careers that had taken off in opposite directions, always moving, always busy, always apart. your schedules were like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit together anymore, no matter how hard you tried to force them.

sometimes he would surprise you, show up in whatever city you were in, standing at your door with that smile that used to make your heart race. but even then, it wasn’t enough. when he was there, it felt like you were lying next to a stranger, like everything you shared before felt like a distant memory.

your mind wandered as you stared out the window, trying to remember what it used to be like. the way you used to laugh together, the way he used to look at you like you were the only person in the world. but those moments felt so far away now, like they belonged to another lifetime. your careers were taking off, yes, but your relationship was falling apart.

you tried everything to get him to spend more time with you. it wasn’t just the long phone calls or the quiet hopes you'd whisper when he promised he’d visit, but you actually took action.

you started reaching out to his manager, a move that felt so cold, so far removed from the days when it was just you and him figuring things out together. now, it was emails and calls, hoping to align your schedules like some kind of business transaction.

you’d ask if there was a window, any gap at all, where you could see each other, trying to make sense of his packed days and your own commitments. it felt impersonal, like you were just another appointment penciled into his calendar, waiting to be confirmed.

there were weeks when you’d sit down with your team, trying to move things around, freeing up your time in the hope that his manager would find a slot that worked. you bent over backward, squeezing your own projects tighter so maybe, just maybe, you’d have a few days together. but it always ended the same.

another ‘maybe next time’ or a polite suggestion from his side to ‘keep him updated’—as if he wasn’t even aware of how much you were trying to hold everything together.

what shattered you was seeing him with his costars. scrolling through social media and seeing him hanging out with them after long days on set. grabbing dinner with them, laughing with them, being the drew you used to know—but never like that with you anymore.

he made time for them, he’d pay them visits, go out for drinks, be himself. but not with you. why not with you?

you couldn’t understand it. and that was the worst part. you weren’t jealous of his work or his friends, but it hurt seeing him give them what you so desperately wanted. time. effort. attention. those small moments of connection.

you tried bringing other people into the mix, hoping it would be less pressure for him. leila and theo became your go-to when you were feeling desperate. you’d invite them out, framing it like a casual group hang, knowing that maybe if drew wasn’t faced with just you, he’d be more likely to show up.

you thought maybe he'd feel less cornered, less pressured. and so you'd reach out, asking leila to join you and casually suggesting that maybe drew could come along too. a movie, dinner, anything. you tried to make it seem easy, no big deal.

but he never gave a direct answer. it was always a dance—drew would respond with something vague, something about being busy, or how he’d love to but he wasn’t sure, and he’d get back to you. he’d redirect the conversation, shifting topics before you even realized what had happened. it wasn’t malicious, but it left you feeling hollow, like he wasn’t even aware of how long he’d been doing it, how much he’d been dodging your efforts to pull him closer.

and you couldn’t help but feel bad, feel like you were trying so hard for someone who wasn’t even putting in half as much as you were. it wasn’t like he didn’t care—he was just so wrapped up in his own world, his work, that he didn’t see how hard you were fighting to keep your relationship alive.

you were trying to reach him, but it felt like he was always just out of reach, just beyond the point where you could hold on.

it wasn’t anger you felt toward him, but this deep, aching sadness. because no matter what you tried, it felt like you were the only one trying at all—did he even like you anymore?

and then suddenly, it snapped.

like a taut string pulled too tight for too long, it finally gave way. all the moments you fought so hard for, the endless nights spent hoping, came crashing down in an instant. his words weren’t loud or angry; they were quiet, almost too calm. it was like the end had been sitting between you both for months, waiting to be spoken into existence.

“what?”

your voice was small, a cracked whisper filled with disbelief. you’d heard him—of course, you’d heard him—but it felt so unreal. your heart ached, like it was physically breaking apart, but your mind couldn’t fully process it. it felt like you were standing outside of yourself, watching this unfold, wondering if this was really happening.

“why?” you managed, your voice barely holding together as your eyes searched his face for something, anything that would make sense of this. you saw his regret, the sadness behind his eyes, but there was no answer that would make this hurt any less. his lips parted like he wanted to explain, but there were no words to fix this.

he reached for you, like he thought he could make it better somehow, but you took a step back, your hand instinctively wiping away the tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

all the effort, all the time you had spent trying to make things work, fighting for what you thought was love—it felt like it had all been wasted. your chest tightened as you stared at him, the silence between you thick and unbearable.

“get away from me,” you whispered, your voice stronger now, though your heart was shattering inside. you waved him off, refusing to let him touch you, refusing to let him see you break any more than you already had.

he hesitated, his hands dropping to his sides as the distance between you widened, both physically and emotionally. it wasn’t just the breakup that hurt—it was everything. all the time you’d given, all the compromises, all the moments you’d spent wishing for more.

you turned around, not wanting him to see the fresh tears that blurred your vision, not wanting him to see how deeply this cut. it wasn’t just about losing him; it was about losing the version of yourself that had believed, that had hoped for something different. something better.

“good luck on everything, drew.”

the words left your mouth before you could stop them, bitter and sharp. it felt like a punch to your own chest, but you had to say it. you had to remind yourself that maybe his career was the priority now, not you. and you needed to remind him of that, too.

even as your throat tightened, and your body threatened to break down entirely, you forced yourself to keep walking.

you didn’t look back. not when the tears started falling faster, not when your hands shook as you unlocked your car door, not even when you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back like a weight you didn’t want to carry anymore.

the sobs finally broke free once you were inside, gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white. he didn’t chase after you, didn’t say another word. he just watched you leave, and that somehow hurt more than anything else.

as you drove away, tears streaming down your face, the weight of it all finally settled in. you didn’t want to hear his excuses, didn’t want to hear whatever reason he thought justified this. you just wanted to go home, to get away from the pain that now felt too familiar, and to leave behind the pieces of your heart that had shattered at his feet.

and just like that, the year of silence between you began.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @ivy-34 @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[goldsbitch]

Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

[paddockletters]

shattered hearts | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you break free from a toxic relationship, embarking on an exhilarating journey of self-discovery

warning: emotional abuse, infidelity, toxic relationship, angst

author's note:this was hard, so hard omg... as I always say, english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

I met Lando when we were barely out of high school. Back then, he was just a kid with dreams and a mischievous smile that made you feel like you were the only one in the world that mattered. For a while, I believed that was true. But as the years went by, I learned that Lando's smile wasn’t mine alone—it was shared with others, stolen moments behind my back. And somehow, I was always the one left picking up the pieces.

Our relationship was a whirlwind, the couple everyone thought would either crash or last forever. We did crash—over and over again. But somehow, Lando always found a way to convince me to come back.

“I’m sorry,” he’d say, voice low and pleading after one of his inevitable affairs. “But you know you’re my number one, right? None of them matter like you do.”

He’d wrap his arms around me, pull me close, and somehow, I’d believe him. I had to because after eight years of being with him, I didn’t know who I was without him.

The first time he cheated, I was devastated. It was in his early F1 days, just as his fame started to sink in. He swore it was a one-time thing that it didn’t mean anything. And like a fool, I believed him. But it didn’t stop. It never stopped. There was always another girl, another excuse, another lie wrapped up in the promise that I was still the "main one."

One particular night, I remember the argument that nearly broke us for good. Lando had been out late, and I found out through a mutual friend that he had been seen with another girl. Again. When he came home, reeking of alcohol and guilt, I confronted him.

“You said you were going to change, Lando!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “You promised me, over and over again, but nothing ever changes!”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You always come back. You always forgive me,” he shot back, arms crossed, his face a mask of irritation.

His words stung like a slap to the face. I wanted to scream, to leave right then and there. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because a part of me still loved him, or maybe it was the idea of him—the boy I met before the fame, before the lies.

As the years rolled on, our friends saw the cracks. One night during a get-together at a bar, I tried to put on a brave face. I thought maybe if I acted normal, I could convince myself everything was fine. But when Jess pulled me aside, her expression serious, I knew I couldn’t hide anymore.

“Why do you keep letting him treat you like this?” she asked, frustration evident in her voice. “You deserve so much better, and he’s just going to keep doing this until you realize it.”

“Maybe he’ll change. I can’t just throw away eight years,” I replied defensively. “We have a history.”

“You mean a history of him cheating on you? You have to stop putting up with this, or you’re going to lose yourself,” she insisted, shaking her head.

I didn’t have an answer for her, not really. I just wanted to believe that things would get better. That Lando would see how much I cared and finally choose me over everyone else.

Our mutual friends began to pick sides. Some supported me, while others were loyal to Lando. It was suffocating, a constant tug-of-war that made everything feel so much worse. I felt more isolated than ever, even when surrounded by people.

Then there was the jealousy. Lando was incredibly possessive, especially with his fellow drivers. During one race weekend, I was talking to Charles, who had just finished his session. Lando walked in, and his eyes darkened.

“Why are you always chatting up the other drivers?” he snapped, pulling me aside as Charles walked away, giving us a questioning look.

“Because they’re my friends, Lando! Just because you’re in F1 doesn’t mean I can’t talk to anyone else. You’re not my warden,” I shot back, feeling the anger rise in my chest.

“Don’t act like I’m overreacting. You know how it looks,” he hissed, jaw clenched, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I knew he was being unreasonable, but I was too exhausted to fight back. Our friends watched the tension build, hoping to intervene. I overheard Max once whisper to Lando.

“You need to chill, mate. You’re pushing her away.”

But Lando always had an excuse for everything, often deflecting blame onto me.

“You just don’t understand how this world works!” he’d shout, leaving me feeling small and defeated.

The cycle continued, and I found myself in the same painful arguments over and over. One night, after he came home late from a party, I had finally reached my breaking point.

“Do you even care about how I feel?” I shouted, my voice echoing through our apartment. “You’re always out with other girls! How am I supposed to trust you?”

“I told you, you’re the main one! None of them matter!” he retorted, but his words felt hollow to me.

We spent that night in silence, and I knew I had to make a decision. I just didn’t know how to let go.

The more time passed, the more I began to distance myself from Lando. Therapy helped. I began to see the truth behind his words and actions. The way he manipulated me, made me feel guilty for his mistakes. The way he made it seem like I was the one at fault for staying, like I was to blame for the pain he caused me.

During one therapy session, I shared my frustrations.

“I don’t know why I keep coming back to him. He’s hurt me so many times, and I just can’t let go.”

The therapist asked me one simple question: “Do you love him, or are you just scared of being without him?”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t know the answer.

One evening after another brutal fight, I finally left. For good this time. I packed my bags while he watched, silent for once. Maybe he thought I’d come back, just like I always did. But this time was different. I walked out the door, leaving behind eight years of memories, both good and bad.

The nights were long and lonely, and I often found myself thinking about the happy moments we had. One flashback struck me particularly hard: it was the first time he had taken me to the paddock during a race weekend, and we laughed like kids as he showed me around.

“Can you believe this is my life now?” he had said, beaming with pride. “I never would have thought I’d be racing in F1.”

“I always knew you could do it,” I replied, squeezing his hand.

But now, those memories felt tainted, and I needed to focus on myself. It wasn’t easy. There were nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I had made the right decision. But with time, and with the help of my therapist, I started to heal. I began to see that I deserved better, that I deserved someone who would love me the way I had always wanted Lando to.

One evening, after finally leaving Lando for good, I found myself at a racing event with friends. It was a chance to distract myself from the whirlwind of emotions I was navigating. As I wandered through the paddock, I was drawn to the sound of laughter.

“Are you lost, or just overwhelmed by all this?” a smooth voice asked. I turned to see Pato O'Ward, the charming IndyCar driver, grinning at me. His eyes sparkled with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of something hopeful.

“I guess a little bit of both,” I replied, smiling back.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” he offered, his energy contagious. As we walked through the paddock, he shared stories about his racing experiences and the thrill of competing. It felt so refreshing to be around someone who was passionate and genuine, without the weight of expectations or drama.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself spending more time with Pato. He was everything I had needed—funny, respectful, and utterly devoted. He listened to me, understood my past, and never once made me feel like I was in a competition for his attention.

One night, after a thrilling race, he took me to a quiet spot overlooking the track. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about how important it is to find someone who truly sees you. I see you, and I want to be that person.”

His words resonated deep within me, filling the void Lando had left. In that moment, I knew I had found something special with Pato, something I had longed for but never thought I could have.

Meanwhile, Lando had his own set of problems. He was still juggling relationships, using his charm to keep people around while juggling jealousy over his fellow drivers. I heard from our mutual friends that he was still stuck in the same toxic patterns, always in and out of relationships, always claiming that I was the one who got away.

I remember a race weekend when Charles and Lando got into an argument. I was watching from the sidelines with Pato when Charles approached me, concern etched on his face.

“Are you okay? I know things with Lando have been… complicated,” he said, his gaze shifting to Lando, who was across the paddock, still fuming.

“I’m fine, really. I’ve moved on,” I assured him, but I could see the doubt in his eyes.

Later that evening, I got a message from Lando, who had obviously overheard the chatter.

“I know you’re happy with him, but you’re still mine. You always come back to me, remember?”

It took everything in me not to respond. I had a new life now, a new partner who respected me and didn’t cheat. Lando’s words were just echoes of the past.

Fast forward to our wedding day. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, my heart racing with excitement. Pato had become my rock, my partner in every sense of the word. I knew this was the right choice, and my heart was finally at peace.

Then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Lando.

“I heard you’re getting married. Just wanted to say, I hope you’re happy. But I still think about you. We could’ve had it all, you know.”

I stared at the message, my heart pounding. For a moment, I considered replying. But then I remembered all the sleepless nights, the tears, the heartbreak, and all the promises he had broken.

“Too late,” I typed back, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.

As I walked down the aisle, Pato’s face lit up with joy, and I couldn’t help but smile back. When he took my hands in his, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t known in years.

The ceremony was beautiful, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t felt in years. When Pato took my hands in his, I knew I was finally moving forward.

As we exchanged vows, Lando’s presence lingered in the back of my mind, but I let it go.

“I promise to love you through every challenge and to celebrate every victory,” he said, his eyes shining with sincerity.

“I promise to choose you every day for the rest of my life,” I replied, my voice steady and full of conviction.

We sealed our vows with a kiss, and I felt liberated. Lando was no longer my story; I was the author of my own life now, and it was a beautiful beginning with Pato. With him by my side, I was ready to embrace the future we would build together, thriving in a relationship based on trust, respect, and love.

As time passed, I learned to appreciate the small moments—the laughter, the late-night talks, the shared dreams of a future together. Pato supported my passions and encouraged me to pursue my own ambitions, something I had never fully experienced before.

One day, I received a message from Max: “Lando’s been a mess since your wedding. He didn’t handle it well.”

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. He had always taken me for granted, and now, he was the one left behind.

I hoped Lando would find peace eventually, but I also knew I couldn’t go back to the pain of our past. Pato was everything I needed, and I was determined to focus on our life together.

As our first anniversary approached, Pato planned a surprise getaway. “I want to celebrate us, everything we’ve built,” he said, a bright smile on his face.

We traveled to a beautiful beach destination, where we spent our days relaxing, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. One night, under a sky full of stars, Pato took my hand and said, “You’ve changed my life for the better. I want to keep building this amazing life with you.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears. “You’ve shown me what real love looks like, Pato. I’m so grateful for you.”

His expression softened as he leaned in, kissing me gently.

Then, one day, I got a call from Lando.

“Can we talk?” he asked, voice shaky.

“What do you want, Lando?” I replied, my heart racing.

“I just need to explain… things didn’t go as planned after you left. I’ve made mistakes, and I want you back.”

I paused, memories flooding back. “You had your chance, Lando. I can’t keep going back to the past. I’m happy now. I’ve moved on.”

“But I still love you!” he pleaded. “You were always my main one!”

His words echoed painfully in my mind, but I stood my ground. “You had your chance to prove that. You made your choice.”

The phone call ended, and I sighed with relief. I looked at Pato, who was sitting beside me, and smiled. I had made the right choice.

I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Lando was no longer a part of my narrative. My life was filled with the warmth and love Pato brought into it, and I was excited for the future we would continue to create together.

With Pato, I had learned to love again, not just him, but also myself. And that made all the difference.

Lando’s chapter had closed, and I was finally ready to start anew, with someone who truly valued me, not just as the ‘main one,’ but as the woman I had become.

[winchesterwild78]

A Twist of Fate

Characters: Dean x Reader, Billy x Reader

Warnings: Nothing too extreme, just some angst, language, and fluff

A/N: Got this idea from a picture I was tagged in by @jackles010378. Sorry it took me so long to write this. Dean and the reader were dating and broke up. Dean sees the reader with her new boyfriend and things unravel. 

This is a work of fiction, all work is my own, do not take it or copy it. 

Minors DNI 18+

The crisp autumn air nipped at my nose as Billy and I strolled down Main Street. The leaves were a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges, and yellows, a beautiful contrast to the gray sky. I couldn't help but think about how much my life had changed since I'd last seen Dean.

Three years. That's how long we'd been together. Three years of laughter, love, and a shared passion for the supernatural. And then, just like that, he was gone. A letter, a simple explanation that he couldn't be with me anymore. The pain had been unbearable, a wound that had slowly healed, leaving a scar that I would always carry.

That morning I woke up and found the letter on his pillow. It was the day my world broke. Tears fell on the letter as I read his simple words. 

Dear Y/N,

These past three years have been great. We’ve shared so much and done even more together. I know you love me. You’ve said it so many times, and showed me every day. I just can’t lie to you anymore. I don’t feel the same. That’s not fair to you, to make you think we have a future together. One where we get married and have kids. I can’t do the apple pie life. I’m sorry, Y/N. I do hope you find the love you deserve.

Goodbye,

D

It didn’t make sense to me. We had just shared a night of love and passion, tangled in each other’s embrace. Whispering words of love and affection. We talked of the future and he said he’d love to be a dad one day. He was the love of my life, then he was gone. 

Now, here I was, two years later with Billy. He was kind, considerate, and everything a good man should be. But a part of me couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.

We met through a mutual friend and had an instant connection. I wouldn’t call it love, but I was grateful for the companionship. I hadn’t even spoken the words to him. Billy was quick to say “I love you”, but I couldn’t say it because I didn’t mean it, nor did I feel it. 

Billy spent all of his free time with me. At times it felt suffocating. Dean and I spent a lot of time together too, but we also had our time apart. I’d bake and he’d work in the garage, it was a perfect balance.

Walking hand in hand through Main Street my mind kept comparing him to Dean. When Dean and I would walk, his arm was around me in a protective way. Billy just held my hand. Dean would lace his fingers in mine, Billy just cupped my hand. 

When Billy kissed me, it was hard and fast. When Dean kissed me it was soft and full of passion. Every step I took my mind kept comparing Billy to Dean. I couldn’t figure out why Dean was in the forefront of my thoughts.

And then I saw him. Leaning against the Impala, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. Dean. My heart pounded in my chest as our eyes met. A flash of something crossed his face - regret? Jealousy? I couldn't be sure.

As we continued walking, I glanced back. He was still watching, his gaze fixed on me. A wave of emotions washed over me. I stumbled as I looked back. I saw him gasp and jump off the car. Billy grabbed my arm trying to steady me. “You okay?” I nodded. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Dean. Billy followed my gaze. Clearing his throat I turned and met his eyes. “Who’s that?” He asked, his voice laced with hurt and something else, anger maybe. I looked at Dean then back at Billy, “he’s my ex.” 

Billy wasn’t happy. I could feel the tension between us. As we walked into the quiet cafe he shot me a look that sent a chill through me. The cashier offered a soft smile. “How can I help you two today?” She said with a sweet voice. Billy looked at her and said “We will both have a coffee with 2 creams and 1 sugar.” She nodded as she started to put in the order. I spoke up, “Um, excuse me. I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” Billy shot me a look and grabbed my hand, “No, you’ll have what I ordered you. You’re my girlfriend and you’ll have what I order.” 

The cashier stood shocked. My mouth was on the floor. He’d never acted like this before. I touched his bicep softly, “Billy, I am your girlfriend, but I can order what I want.” Billy huffed and mumbled something. The cashier told Billy the total and she went about making the order. 

When we had our order Billy directed me to a booth at the back of the restaurant. I sat across from him and looked at him, shocked by his behavior. “You want to tell me what the hell that was about, Billy? Since when do you order for me and grab me?” Billy just stared at me, anger flashing in his eyes. It honestly scared me. 

“I didn’t like how you kept staring at pretty boy out there. It’s like you’re in love with him or something.” I bit my lip, not knowing what to say to him. I was in love with him. I never stopped loving him, but how could I tell him that? 

I swallowed hard. Touching Billy’s hand I started to speak, “Billy, I was in love with him when I was with him. He broke my heart and I’m with you now. That’s all that matters.” 

Billy pulled his hand away from me. “So you can love him but not me? You know what, screw this. Why don’t you go back to him and be his little whore again.” I gasped, “Billy! What the hell. Please calm down. I don’t want to be with him, I’m with you.”

Before I could say anything else, Billy stood up and told me to have a nice life and left. I sat at the table in shock. What the hell just happened? How did one little thing set him off like that? 

I sat at the table thinking about the past few years, how my love for Dean slipped away, and how Billy reacted to me seeing Dean. I was lost in thought and didn’t hear the bell above the door. 

The sound of a deep husky voice pulled me from my thoughts, “Hello, sweetheart.” My eyes flicked up and they met the piercing green eyes of my favorite hunter. My breath caught in my throat, “D…Dean, what are you doing here?” “Sammy and I were in town on a hunt, I heard you moved here. I’m so glad I ran into you. Can I sit?” 

“Sure.” I said without hesitation. Dean sat across from me. His hands instinctively grabbed mine. My head is screaming at me to pull away, but the rest of my body is holding on for dear life. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was foolish and a complete jackass for leaving and for leaving you the way I did. I was scared. I had finally found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, have children with, and I got scared. Scared you would be taken away from me. Scared because I don’t deserve the love you had for me. I’ve never deserved love or to be loved. I’m broken, Y/N. 

As I sat across from him, hearing him say how he didn’t deserve love my heart broke for him. “Dean, you deserve so much.You, Dean Winchester, deserve all the love in the world. You were four years old when you saved your brother from the fire, you raised him. Dean, you had to be mom and dad to Sam. Dean Winchester, the man who willingly went to hell to save his baby brother, the man who was willing to die for so many people. Dean Winchester, the man who took on the Mark of Cain to help save the world. You deserve all the love this world has to offer. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I NEVER stopped loving you, Dean, and I know I never will.”

Dean stood and walked over to me. He reached out his hand and took my hand in his, pulling me up and flush to his body. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, and his hand cupped my face, “You are even more beautiful now than you were two years ago. I was a fool to let you go, and I intend to spend the rest of my life making that up to you. That is if you’ll have me again.” 

I leaned into his hand that cupped my face. My heart hammered in my chest. His touch ignited that fire, that love I had buried deep inside me. Without another word I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft and Dean hesitated for a moment. Then something changed. His hands went into my hair and pulled me in. The kiss became more passionate and full of need. 

The hurt from the past two years was fading with each kiss. When we finally parted, I looked at Dean and smiled. His eyes are full of love and desire. “Dean, take me home.” I said as I leaned into his embrace.

Dean took my hand and led me out of the coffee shop and to the Impala. He opened the car door and I climbed in. When he got in the driver’s seat, he looked over, smiled and took my hand. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.” He stepped on the gas and we headed back home. Home, where we both belonged, together and in each other’s arms. 

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[biowho]

Do you think that our choices might be worked in through dialogue options in the game instead? Like we get the three in the beginning and then the others are worked in throughout the game? Kinda like they did at the beginning of mass effect 2? I'm trying to keep my hopes up that it's not all lost :((((

Hello hello dear listener, I think that’s a really cool idea and would love if something like that was implemented but I wouldn’t bet on it

One of my beloved mutuals mentioned how they hope that the three options were just for the early players and that they’ll be more available in the CC after launch and that the three were only about things in act one so the rest didn’t matter at for the event. (I didn’t rb because I didn’t know if they wanted other people to interact with that post outside their bubble, sorry bestie)

I really like that idea too, however I’m trying not to have any strong feelings towards any possible things for Veilguard until I play it rn

[ttalgi]

boxer!clorinde x manager!gn!reader (ft. wingman?childe)

tags: modern!au, fluff, slight second-hand embarrassment? author's note: this is a quick something i made for @cieluna so she'd be content...

"I don't get why you haven't confessed to her already? Anyone with eyes can see the mutual attraction between you two. It's better to do it first before someone else does it, no?"

It's been an hour since your conversation with Childe, yet his words keep playing round and round in your head, seeming to never get off its ride.

There's just no way you could confess to Clorinde. You would rather be Dante stuck in the inferno than gamble the chance of ruining the content friend/work?ship you have with her.

Unable to think straight and continue your email, your hand reaches for the phone on your desk and clicks on the call icon as if having a love-stricken mind of its own.

"Sup-"

"I know that you may not hear this much, but you're right, okay? Happy?! I like Clorinde so, incredibly, much! But I just can't confess, that's terrifying to do!" you exasperate.

"Wait-"

"Especially with me being her manager? That's like a work taboo, is it not!?" You sigh. "Don't get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to be with her romantically. It's just... this is a prime time for her, and I'm more focused on getting all the connections she deserves to succeed even further. "

After your mini monologue, you realize that you still haven't heard his voice. "Hello? Childe?"

"Um...hey buddy! So glad you came to an epiphany, but I'm actually driving right now so you're on speaker...and Clorinde's in the car with me..."

"..."

"Um..." He let out an awkward laugh. "Hello?"

"Childe. I hope your client gets into another pr scandal-"

A gentle melodic laugh stilled you from continuing your ill-intended wish. "Even though everyone calls me the fastest in the ring, it seems that you were the fastest of us two today. Childe's dropping me off at your location."

"I'm still at the office. Wait, no! You just finished your training. You should go home and rest." You worried.

"I'm aware. You've been working overtime more times than not these days. I also figured that you hadn't eaten yet, so I picked us up some takeout from that restaurant you love so much, the one next to the gym. I presumed that Childe was kind enough to act as my chauffeur on his own accord, but now I see that he had another plan in mind."

You heard Childe's gremlin snickers from the speaker. "Okay. Wait. So. About what I said-"

"Don't stress yourself out over me; we'll continue when I get there. I wish to say what I've been meaning to do while seeing your face. Wait for me?" Hearing her hopeful tone, you smile.

"I will."

"Will you wait for me too-" "Oh, shut it, Childe."

[literallyroselacroix]

DRDT EP 15 SPOILERS!! My thoughts?

I can’t imagine how Arei felt when she realized it wasn’t Eden who gave her that fucking note. She probably knew it wasn’t Eden bcs of Ace’s white ass arms but still what the fuck?? Also Ace’s reason for killing her *specifically* is incredibly fucked, what the frickity frock is wrong with him 😀 istg if I see any mfs act like he’s little orphan Annie after this I’ll tweak out. Ace is not some misunderstood manchild, he is a college-aged something who knows full well what he’s doing is wrong. And you can even hear it in his dialogue. Yes, he’s tragic, but that doesn’t mean you have to baby him. To treat his character like that would be a huge insult to this series’s writing, I think. I don’t think I can say I can feel any sympathy for his character, and I don’t feel like I’m supposed to either. Like genuinely it feels like the developer is trying to get me to hate him even more before he dies lmao, but I have major respect for people who love their favs for the little shits they are‼️

Side note: I can’t stand when people act like the cast’s behavior towards Ace wasn’t justified, they act like it’s completely unprovoked or something. Reminder that Ace is a MEGA asshole, and when you see an asshole you aren’t going to think about how hard of a time they’re having, no! You’re going to think about how much of an asshole they are and *probably* treat them as such, especially when they try to pull that shit on you 😭 and you’d think after being threatened with violence or whatever else (not referring to anything after Nico’s attempt on his life, I think his behavior then was completely understandable, mostly) he’d cut that shit out but nooo…Also his behavior towards Levi confuses me immensely, why does he act like they had like, a relationship built off of mutual respect? Levi was literally the only one putting effort into that…friendship?? Is that what we’re calling whatever the fuck they had?? Man idk. Damn this ended up being yappier than expected my bad

Side note side note: me hating a character ≠ not acknowledging how awesomely written they are. Ace’s writing is uber cool but I cannot STAND his ass

[cesilly]

- in the backseat

hamzah x reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contains: established relationship, car sex.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy, you know.”

hamzah’s low, rumbling voice in your ear sends an exciting chill throughout your body.

he gently presses his hand against your lower back, trying to control your hips, which have been swaying against him in the middle of this crowd for most of the duration of the birthday party that the two of you were attending for your mutual friend.

you spin around, looking up at him with a knowing grin. you’ve been noticing how he tries to back away from you, keep his hands to himself, even avoid eye contact.

“oh, you’re the one being driven crazy?” you roll your eyes, teasing your boyfriend who only shrugs and stares down at the ground instead of looking at you.

“c’mon,” you egg him on with a smile, grabbing hold of his chin, forcing his face towards you. “look at me, baby.”

he meets your eyes, his pupils completely blown up. “why are you fucking with me?” he lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, staring at you like you’re some sort of magical creature that’s making him feel unexplainable things.

“i’m not,” you brush your thumb across his cheek, even the smallest touch making him involuntarily groan. “if anything, you’re fucking with me, hamzah. won’t even look at your girlfriend all night.” you mutter.

“i can’t.” he speaks softly, and you strain to hear him over the music. “im trying to keep some of my fucking dignity.”

you giggle and reach up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, when you hear him whisper in your ear.

“it hurts, baby.”

his voice is hoarse and desperate. you’ve never heard him quite this frustrated before.

your eyes drop down to his pants, seeing the painfully obviously bulge within them. he sees you looking, and he takes your hand in his.

“can we go, please? no one’s gonna say anything. no one will even notice.”

it’s true, you guys barely knew half the people here.

you feel as if you have a demon and an angel on your shoulder as you contemplate whether or not to give into his desperation.

loving the way he’s so eager for you right now, you can’t decide if you want to play into it and make him wait, or just give in, like you know you want to. truth is, you’re as obsessed with him as he is with you.

you look up once more to see his face, the way he’s suddenly admiring you, not fighting his desires anymore..

there’s no way you could say no.

you nod, interlacing your fingers with his. he breathes out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head before he drags you through the sea of people to get out of here.

you laugh, stumbling along behind him as he pulls you along through the parking lot to his car. when pressing his key to unlock it, his headlights flash, and you notice how far away he parked from the front door, meticulously choosing a secluded corner of the lot.

“oh my gosh, you freak,” you exclaim from behind him. “you knew this would happen!”

he gives you a small grin over his shoulder, pulling open the car door. “i guess you caught me,” he breaks into a smile as he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you into a kiss while trying to sneakily push you into the backseat.

“but, how can you blame me?” he murmurs against your lips, his hand trailing your thigh and lifting it up to tip you into the car, laying you down across the seats. “when you’re wearing this fucking dress, did your makeup all pretty,” he continues, slamming the door shut and hovering over you, caging you in.

“i probably would’ve fuckin’ finished in my pants if you spent any longer dancing on me, i swear.” he grumbles, staring down at you hungrily.

“yeah? that’s why you wouldn’t touch me? wouldn’t look at me?” you ask softly, reaching up to brush your fingers against his lips.

he nods, parting his lips when you delicately touch them. “can’t control myself around you, angel.” he kisses your fingertips. “you’re perfect. i just get so worked up.”

you stare up at him with admiration and lust and a thousand other feelings all mixed up, your heart fluttering at his honesty. and, to be candid yourself, you were losing your control as well. being shut in the car, blissfully unaware of anything going on outside, your desire grows more unavoidable.

before you can think of a response, your body takes over and pulls him down into another kiss, deeper and more heated than the last.

“need you,” you whisper against his lips. “now.”

your hand travels down to his crotch, and he winces at just the slightest brush of his erection with your fingertips.

“mmh,” he whines out, his fingers immediately flying down to undo his jeans.

you start to slip off the straps of your dress, but hamzah intervenes, grabbing hold of your wrist as he unzips his zipper with his other hand.

“don’t want it off,” he says lazily, his eyes half lidded like he’s utterly captivated by the sight of you under him. “wanna get a good look at it.”

you nod.

he wants you to keep your dress on.

he doesn’t even care about seeing your body.

he still wants to fuck you, fully clothed.

he thinks you’re beautiful, he constantly makes you completely aware of that.

you watch as he tugs his boxers down, freeing his uncomfortable erection. fuck, you forget how big he is sometimes. heat rises and spreads across your face.

“off,” he growls, hiking up your dress so it bunches up around your hips, then quickly sliding your panties down, all in a few swift movements.

you adjust so he can position himself between your legs. “you’re okay, beautiful?” he cups your cheek gently.

“perfect,” you whisper in response. “want you so bad, hamzah. please.”

he doesn’t need any further instruction, his breath hitching as he takes his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he positions himself at your entrance.

he pauses to rub his tip along your wetness, earning a collective whimper out of the both of you. he’s already dripping with precum.

he slides his hand down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat as he finally pushes into you, slowly, deliberately. your eyes snap up to meet his as you both let out that intial gasp when he enters you.

he squeezes your neck gently, not hurting you, but applying enough pressure to make you feel dizzy with pleasure. he finally sinks fully into you, letting you adjust when you tighten around his solid length.

“can i move?” he swallows harshly, like he’s fighting back another noise. “you’re alright?”

with your lips parted and your breath shaky, you nod once more. his eyes are fixed on your figure, darting around your face and your body as he begins to thrust slowly in and out of you, the two of you moaning in sync, whispering incomplete thoughts.

you watch as his self control begins to visibly slip away. his controlled, slow pace begins to speed up and become sloppier, messier, like he’s trying to release all of his frustration.

“that’s it,” you moan. “so fucking good.”

“uh-huh?” he exhales, placing one hand on the seat to keep himself steady, the other gripping your waist to keep you still as he mindlessly pumps into you.

“could’ve done this to you in there, i was so ready to,” he groans, finally beginning to struggle with the eye contact and squeezing his lids shut. “in front of everyone? i should’ve,” he lets out a needy growl. “with the way you were teasing me.”

“yeah? you’re dirty,” you breathe out, and that just seems to push him further. you feel the car shake underneath you when he begins snapping his hips into you uncontrollably, making your fingers latch tightly onto his shoulders, squeezing hard.

“could’ve let everyone know, mmh,” he holds onto your hip so tight you think it might bruise. “how fucking perfect this is.”

his words, his movements, everything makes you squirm and whine underneath him. warmth spreads throughout your body, heat pooling in your stomach.

“shit, baby,” his voice is broken, helpless. “i’m close already. i can’t, i can’t..”

his rhythm is disrupted, his hips staggering, as he tries to complete his sentence.

“come on, hamzah,” you groan, your back arching up off the seats as you grow closer to your own orgasm, your body tensing around him, pulling him in. “just fucking say it.”

a deep groan rumbles in his chest before he quickly slides his arm under you, moving you effortlessly into his lap on top of him as he rests his back against the seat, his cock sitting idle inside you.

“can’t hold it back much longer.” he whispers breathily as he rests his head on your chest, pressing a kiss to your skin.

“me neither,” you agree, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“harder, hamzah.”

you sound just as desperate as him.

“please.”

he looks up at you through his thick eyelashes, his chest rising and falling rapidly against you as he gasps with each breath.

“atta girl,” his lips spread into a grin.

he grasps your waist with his strong, firm hands to ensure you stay in place.

you wrap your arms around his neck, moaning softly into his ear as he begins to move inside you, the new position letting him in deeper, making your core unbearably tight.

in a matter of seconds, he’s pounding into you. he wants to make you feel good, and he is. he’s blowing your fucking mind, making you whimper like crazy.

“mhm, that’s it,” he kisses your chest sloppily, just wanting to feel as much of you as he can. “your pretty noises, fuck.”

the tension within your body builds and builds, and you suddenly know that you can’t take it anymore.

“hamzah..” you whisper. “oh shit, hamzah, mmh!” you try to warn him before you let yourself go, but by the time you do, he’s already cumming.

the intensity of your own orgasm mixed with the feeling of his warm release filling you, it’s fucking euphoric.

“you’re perfect, so perfect,” hamzah whispers against your skin, his voice trembling. “my girl.”

the two of you stay in the position for several moments, you even feel his dick softening inside you. once you finally regain your composure, you open your eyes to look at him. you gaze at one another in complete adoration.

“love you, so much.” he mutters. “can’t even think straight.”

you smile, admiring him with heavy eyelids. his flushed, tired face is illuminated by the soft glow of the idle streetlight that filters in through the window.

you lean in, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “i love you,” you whisper.

his arm extends, and you hear a little squeak.

when you break away to see what it was, he’s drawn a big, sloppy heart on the fogged up window.

[morganski-19]

I'm talking about that scene with Chris' birthday party because I just have to.

Eddie is trying so damn much. He sets up a whole party for a facetime call because he can't be there in person. Brings people to celebrate with him and surprise Chris. Since Chris probably hasn't spoken to or seen Buck since he left. He thought that maybe if he brought him, there might be a reaction. There might be something.

I understand why Chris is mad. He has every right to be. Eddie fucked up, there's no excusing that. We just know the full context, so we can give him sympathy. Chris hasn't given him a chance to explain, and even then, who knows what he would believe or accept. For a moment, he thought his mom had come back, just to have the reality that she isn't here, that she left again, brought back up. It doesn't matter how old he is, that pain will live with him for a long time.

If Eddie had the chance to explain it to Chris, I would like to believe that he would understand. They have the mutual experience of believing that Shannon had come back, even for a moment. That's the whole reason Eddie entertained the idea of going out with Kim in the first place.

A part of me wishes that Chris would have said something other than "uh huh." I wish that, even just for that day, he could have said something else. No matter what, it was his birthday and his dad wasn't there. Again. Chris would probably still have the pain of Eddie not being there for the first few years of his life, all those birthdays he missed. Even if it's just from hearing stories about how Eddie wasn't there, it would hurt.

So I wonder if that is hurting Chris again now. No matter how mad he is at Eddie, he is still his dad. There is still that love Chris has for him hiding beneath the anger. A part of him was probably missing his dad, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

And Helena. Oh my god, Helena. That jumpscare of her being there when the screen froze what awful. Her jumping in and immediately going on a spiel of how happy Chris is there. How he has new friends and a new hobby that Eddie isn't there to experience. How they're thinking of putting in a pool, just for Chris. Because she doesn't see him ever leaving. Ever going back to Eddie.

All while Eddie's entertaining a smile while his heart just breaks. Knowing he's missing everything again, and this time there's only him to blame. No job, no need for money, just him and everything that's broken.

It makes me wonder what Helena is saying to Chris every day. How much she dotes on him with the snide comments of "your dad never did this for you did he?" Pushing the idea that living with her is so much better than with Eddie.

People like Helena are sweet in their words but sour in their meaning. I know many people who act the same in real life. Most of the time, not realizing what they what they were really saying until many years later. Still, as an adult, I look back on situations and realize how naive I was to not see what they really meant.

Chris is still a kid, he's only fourteen. I can't imagine how much he believes what Helena says about Eddie. How his anger agrees with her judgements, and lets it spread.

I truly don't know how their going to continue with this storyline. I don't think we're going to get any real movement in it until episode four, since the plot will mainly focus on the opening emergency now that it's in full force.

All I can hope is that Eddie works on himself the way the articles imply he will. That he will take a deep look inside himself, and no matter what he sees, tries to be better. For himself, and more importantly, for his son.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi there fandom friend! (I hope I may call you that?) Your blog is amazing! Thank you for this wonderful little space. I have a very specific fanfic question. And please ignore if it feels too personal, BUT - what is THE fic that made you really and properly cry? Or maybe top 5? (Doesn’t necessarily need to be tragic or sad - just emotionally…evocative maybe?)

Perhaps your followers might want to chime in, too? The more recs, the merrier! I know this is a super duper subjective criteria but I would love to get some recommendations. I am in dire need of some emotional catharsis. :-) Thank you❤️

Hey Nonny!!!

You ABSOLUTELY can call me your friend! I am so lonely LOL

OH gosh, I actually have a whole LIST of fics that Made Me Cry that you can check out! I don't have enough new additions for a new list, but here are the ones currently on Part 2:

The Skin Over My Heart by standbygo (E, 8,849 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Hiatus, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Dog Tags, Military, Homophobia, Gay Bashing, POV First Person Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Undercover, Haircuts, Flashbacks, Touching, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Metaphors, Introspection, Hand Jobs, On the Couch, John’s Past, Angst with Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John are still trying to adjust to Sherlock's return from his hiatus when John's friend Bill Murray brings them a case. Someone is targeting the LGBTQA+ members of Bill's unit. John and Sherlock go undercover at the unit, but when they end up having to flirt to flush out the suspect, Sherlock realizes he's in over his head.

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

=====

But yeah, please check out the original list rather than me having to pick only five!!!!!

And as Nonny suggest, you guys PLEASE share your fics that made you cry!!!! I WOULD LOVE IT!!!

Hope these please you, Nonny!!

[utilitycaster]

Given this campaign’s ups and downs and the current slate of CR programming, I’m curious what your outlook is on CR’s overall creative direction, especially going into a big anniversary? I mainly ask because you don’t seem to get bogged down in weird conspiracy theories about CR as a company nor do you act like CR producing other side projects is the root of campaign 3’s issues (like many disgruntled fans seem to - mostly reddit bros obsessed with viewership proving their points). You also seem to know your shit when it comes to creative direction in TTRPG content and have well founded critiques and complaints. 

I personally think a lot of what they've been doing is interesting, but I do sometimes wonder if I’m just prone to wanting to like what CR does because I'm a fan and want them to do well.

Hi anon!

First, thank you so much. I do not in fact know my shit re: creative direction and while I don't want to put them on the spot, several of my mutuals DO have considerably more knowledge of creative direction and production considerations than I do. They are just also better at keeping quiet and hedging their bets than I am. Anything I say that is correct re creative direction comes from a combination of avid reader who likes to analyze fiction/project management experience/common sense.

Honestly? I don't know if they'll do a campaign after this one (and it's possible they'll wrap up C3 before the 10th anniversary) but I think that the reason C3 is like this is because of the demands of a campaign that incorporates EXU Prime and past campaigns and the moon plot. I think Matt needed to run this the way Brennan runs D20 seasons and the cast was also expecting a campaign with the more open plotting of C1 or C2, and no one realized this until pretty far into the campaign. It is not too late to stick the landing of a messy campaign, though it's also not too late to totally fuck it up; but I think (and, to be fair, hope, because I'm also a fan and want them to do well) that the issues of Campaign 3 are contained within Campaign 3.

Part of why I think that is because the "side projects" have for the most part been successful! TLOVM looks great as does what little we've seen of the animated Nein series, the Daggerheart one-shots have been fun, I've loved Candela Obscura, Calamity and Downfall have been incredible, and while they're a lot more hands off with Midst what the cast has been involved with has been stellar. I do not think they are creatively tapped or exhausted and indeed had any of the above not been as strong I'd probably be easier on C3 since I would think it was a case of overextension. But as for C3, I think they just underprepped for a campaign that needed much more prep and awkwardly got stuck in it.

If they wrap up C3 a few months before the 10th anniversary and plan to do a fourth campaign, I'd say that would be a great time to announce it (though I'd recommend taking at least 3 months off if not more, as they have in the past). If it's still going or has just wrapped up, or if they don't plan to do a C4, I'd use that to announce an EXU or maybe some Nein show news and save that announcement for later.

[wolrith]

hey, lets boost each others' playlists :)

share your top 5+ favorite songs right now / all time

favorite bands / full albums if you listen to them

songs you would definitely recommend , think everyone should listen to at least once

Tag your mutuals / anybody! feel free to add even if you weren't tagged

goes without saying but be respectful

of peoples music tastes!

no discourse pls

--

1. Top 5 songs (right now)

Would - Alice in Chains (all time favorite prolly)

King Nothing - Metallica

Lonely Day - System of a Down

Found God in a Tomato - Psychedelic Porn Crumpets

Carnavoyeur - Queens of the Stone Age

2. Favorite Albums

Dirt - Alice in Chains

Toxicity - System of a Down

King Animal - Soundgarden

High Visceral 1&2 - Psychedelic Porn Crumpets

The New Abnormal - The Strokes

3. Songs everyone gotta listen to

Jerusalem - Sinéad O'Connor

Moanin' - Art Blakey and the Jazz Messangers

Seasons - Chris Cornell

Goodbye Nostalgia - Coda (im not sorry)

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

my music taste is kinda boomery but idc

--

Tags! (with no obligation)

@zocomi @engiiiiiii @citrine-rabbit @bakersfield-row @starfightervicki @lilithtransrights @starcrossed-turtle @baaaaaart @w4nderingdreamer @dickgumshoesconfettishredder @ahamkaracature @gingercatmeowo @nelly289 @myfriendwade

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for voting in the poll to decide who was going to be the leader of the band! It turned out to be such a close race!

[cryptocism]

cut him some slack he only just started listening to music

special thanks to @domnorian for their post opening my eyes to this dynamic and to @eyefocusing for thad’s outfit inspiration

[possamble]

What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

[the-holy-ghosted]

he probably broke up a few fights between fitz and crozier right? probably? that's the only excuse i have for this