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sugarwavelove · 3 days

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Dearest older brother...?

Notes: woke up from my nap and wrote this off the top of my head. Some of this is based off my own personal experiences. Not proofread.

Content to be found: 100% PLATONIC, implied bpd and ocd if you squint, unhealthy sibling dynamics (lmk if there's more I should add)

You remember asking Sunday that question all too well. And boy, how did you regret it.

“Is it ok if I call you… big brother now?”

You so desperately wanted to have a caring family, siblings, but younger naive you clung to the wrong brotherly figure.

He and Robin had such a tight bond, and you, being an only child, envied them. So when you were invited to playdates, you enjoyed every second being with them.

The fond memories of you and Sunday supporting Robin's dreams. Sneaking into the kitchen to grab snacks without getting caught. You three grew so close, you practically were their third sibling.

But happiness doesn't last long. The more you all grew up and followed different paths, the more distant you guys became. Of course, there are still attempts to meet up, but it was difficult. Most of the time, you were left behind with Sunday, the man you called big brother.

Could you really call him that anymore though? He made little effort to keep ties with you. Check in on you. You understand that him and Robin obviously had a closer bond. Therefore, he'd pay more attention to her, but you? It's like he was trying to erase you from his life.

No. That's not right. He distances himself from you and lets you fall into loneliness. Yes, that's true. But then why does he keep coming back every time you're at your breaking point?

“What's wrong? You can always tell me anything. I am your big brother, after all.”

It's the same thing every time.

He asks you what's wrong. You break down. He consoles you. Then leaves and the cycle repeats. And every time you refuse to talk, he'll manipulate your emotions to speak and cause you to break down even more.

Why would a big brother do this to his younger sibling?

You couldn't take the emotional hurt anymore. It's like he just sees this as a game. He always uses the big brother card on you knowing it's your weakness.

Things get worse though. Of course they do.

You caught news that Robin has been found dead. That can't be right. It can't. You loved Robin as if she were your actual sister. Why did she die??

So here you are. Walking to the estate where Sunday should be. Why are you even going to him? You should be distancing yourself and be grieving alone. As much as he emotionally hurts you, you still care about him. As much as he abandons you, you always come back.

As soon as you make it through his office doors, someone aggressively grabs you by the shoulders and backs you up to the nearest wall.

It's Sunday.

He's shaking, breathing hard, clearly angry, but hurt above all. He rests his head on your shoulder, still holding you but with less force.

You've never seen him like this before. In the past, you'd occasionally see tiny outbursts when he couldn't get things the way he wanted, but he never displayed this much emotion near you.

“...Don't leave me too” he said in a shaky voice, but you couldn't catch that. All you could hear was your heartbeat from the adrenaline of suddenly being forced against a wall.

Out of genuine care you still held for him, you embraced him. He stiffened up but soon accepted it.

No matter how much you regretted ever calling him big brother, no matter how much it hurt when he abandoned you, you couldn't find it within your heart to leave and move on.

Comforting him was clearly a mistake. For out of fear he'd lose his only other sibling, he imprisoned you in a spare room in his estate.

He still had to keep up appearances so you'd constantly be left alone repeatedly. The cycle repeats itself again. He'll come back home and comfort you for leaving you alone for so long, then leave again for a long period of time.

You'd never escape. You had so many insecurities and were so emotionally constipated. Sunday made things worse. He just had to keep you somewhere where he knew he couldn't lose track of you and possibly lose you just like Robin.

You still loved him. You always would. And he in return would offer you the type of love you never got from your actual family, even if it was just for a bit.

To you, he was your beloved older brother no matter what.

#honkai star rail #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #found family trope gone wrong #platonic relationships

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sigridstumb · 2 days

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Me and Tom Ripley

The Talented Mr. Ripley. The Imposters. The Grifters. Inventing Anna. Saltburn.

I love stories about con artists, sociopaths, and imposters.

I've rewatched the Netflix series Ripley about six times since it came out.

When I was about thirteen years old, I read every book in the local public library about cons and cold reading. I read about how to win people over in business, I learned how to cold read. There were all these books out there that TEACH you how to pretend to be a normal person that someone wants to be friends with! These books teach you how to get people to trust you, to believe you!

I found these to be amazing tools. I could not get people to believe me, I could not figure out why people disliked me. I could not figure out what I was doing so wrong that made bullies kick me in the halls or throw things at me from schoolbuses. I knew it was something wrong with me, I knew I was messing something up, I knew I was failing. So I studied.

I studied how to fake the things I actually felt and believed.

The thing was, I wasn't lying most of the time. Most of the time I was using the social techniques of con artists and cold readers to get people to believe that things I meant. If I said "yes I like this song" in a way that was natural and comfortable for me, the person I was talking to thought I was being sarcastic and mean and that I hated the song, that I thought poorly of them for liking it. I did not! I liked the song! But to get the other person to believe me I had to remember to do all these extra things, like turn my body to 3/4 face the other person, to smile, to make me voice sound like a smile. I would think about cuddling a puppy in order to get the right amount of warmth in my eyes. I would lean in and raise the pitch of my voice.

There are all these extra THINGS I had to learn and remember to do in order to get people to respond to what I intended to say.

So, yes, I love media about con artists and grifters. I love watching people be good at that switch, at putting on the mask. I love watching people in a panic that they will be caught, be revealed, because that's how most social interactions feel to me -- constant worry that my mask will slip and the person I am talking to will suddenly feel that I'm lying to them, that I'm faking everything. (I am faking everything but it's to make sure they believe the truth! Which they won't believe unless I fake everything! I am an imposter, but in support of the truth!!)

Part of what I love about the Netflix Ripley is that Tom is only good at lying to other people when he has successfully gotten himself to believe what he is about to say. He practices and rehearses his lies so that he can sell them to others. I used to practice my facial expression in the mirror, trying to get them to look like other people's faces and expressions. I would practice my tone of voice and how to make it sound warm and friendly. All the things Tom does -- except the murders! and the theft! -- all the SOCIAL things Tom does, I have done those things in an effort to hide my autism and be accepted by the people whose respect and friendship I wanted.

Con artists, cold readers, and comic books taught me how to pretend to be neurotypical.

#actuallyautistic #autistic #masking #neurodivergent #tom ripley #ripley #the talented mr ripley #con artists #cold reading

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p00pdev1l · 1 day

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sour switchblade

A/N: aki hayakawa, the man that you are (insert ash baby reaction here) warnings: i mention smoking, alcohol, and hint suggestive situations. aki hayakawa x gn!reader (no mentions of pronouns), very short, i'm sorry, i just had to get it out of my brain.

“How are you so good at this?” you asked in disbelief. A small smile crept onto his lips, amused by your surprise. He took a moment of silence to answer before simply shrugging in response, his cerulean gaze unwavering as he strategized his next move.

“Just lucky I guess.” The sweating beer placed beside him was still filled to its top, any carbonation now at a dull simmer. With nimble fingers, he tossed the small hollow ball with barely any effort, making it into the last cup laid out on your side of the table, deftly finishing the game with another win, for the 5th time that night. The players across from you groan in defeat, Aki now turning his attention towards you.

“I’m going to go outside for a bit.” He announced, but still awaited your acknowledgement, you could tell this setting was becoming overwhelming for him as a homebody. You gave him a quick nod in approval before his taller form carefully made his way past you, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes before disappearing further into the house as he cut through the crowd. Your close friends standing beside you couldn’t help but gawk at your effortlessly cool boyfriend.

“Your boyfriend is hot.”, “Seriously! I’m jealous!”, “Does he have a brother–or a sister?”, “Where does he work?” You laughed at the series of questions. It was obvious their social filters were entirely subdued by the effects of alcohol. Yours unfortunately, in desperate need of liquid courage to feel even remotely comfortable divulging in such personal questions. “I’m going to need a drink before answering any of this.” you answer honestly with a smile, breaking away from the friendly integration.

Heading back toward the beer pong table, you grabbed Aki’s untouched beer for your own. And upon your short return, your friends remained too distracted by their own discussion about your love life to acknowledge your company. You took this moment to break away, your eyes falling onto a familiar figure outside. Aki stood out on the patio, gazing into the night sky with a cigarette between his fingers, something he’d do quite often in seeking a moment of solace. You cut through the crowd with a soft smile at your lips, slipping outside to join him.

“Care for some company?” you asked as you pulled the glass door shut, sealing off the boisterous noise from inside. “Only if it’s yours.” gray wisps fell from his lips as he spoke, his eyes now fixed on your own. You tried to ignore the warmth spreading through your face, backing yourself against the patio railing leaning beside him.

“I think my friends are in love with you.” you smiled to yourself, gazing past the reflection of you and Aki, watching your peers enjoying the ongoing party behind the secluded glass barrier. Aki simply scoffed, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. A comfortable silence hung between you two before he spoke again.

“Are you?” he asked with a small smile of his own. Your eyebrows furrowed at his vague question. Hearing the inquisitive hum that soon left your lips, he reiterated “Are you in love with me?” His eyes shifted to meet yours, your lips parted in response to the sudden attention of his intense gaze. The steady thrum of your heartbeat now rattling its cage behind your chest. You regained your confidence by rolling your eyes, gently pushing your shoulder into his.

“Something like that.” you responded, trying to carry a cadence of playful indifference, but instead nerves made your voice sound meekish. The hem of Aki’s lips formed another lazy smile, returning his gaze out toward the city.

“That’s all that matters to me.” he let his comment sit with you before continuing the conversation, “What other questions did they ask?”

“What do you do for work? If you had any siblings, if you are good with your hands–” your last sentence came out as a jumble of words, but Aki was quick to pick up on it, raising a dark brow in response. “If I’m good with my hands?”

“Well, it was a question I overheard—but a question nonetheless.”

“What would your answer be?” He asked curiously, pressing his remaining lit cigarette into the metal railing before tossing it into an ashtray nearby. You tilted your head in thought, Aki observing you from the side of his eye. “I’m not sure if I’ve experienced your hands enough to judge their talents yet.” you answered, a familiar heat rising in your abdomen at the idea of his wandering hands.

“Do you want to find out?”

divider credit: @/eloquentreverie

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki x you #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #csm x reader #csm x you #jazz.writes #maybe i'll come back to this eventually #ITS SO HARD TO WRITE SMUT FOR AKI

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coryothesub · 2 days

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Sinful Desires

So I’ve been dabbling in some more kinky / taboo themes lately which prompted me to write this as a special treat no one asked for. Basically I have no excuse for this and sorry if I got any tbosas lore wrong because I haven't read the book

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / stepmom!reader / stepcest / breeding kink / mentions of underage sex work

You married Crassus Snow as soon as you turned eighteen. Looking back you could say that you were truly in love with the tall, handsome general. However for him you were just a warm body to sleep next to and tight pussy to drown his sorrow after the unfortunate passing of his beloved wife. His decision to remarry had definitely come too soon and you were definitely too young to even understand the implications.

After you received the news of your husband's tragic death, you decided to stay with the Snows, because you simply had nowhere else to go. Just like many others, your family had been torn apart by war and even the house you’d grown up in was now bombed to shreds. Your only options were to be poor or to be poor and homeless so you opted for the first one.

You were always on good terms with Tigris. Daily struggle to sustain the family had brought you two pretty close especially because you both were forced to do the same unspeakable things just to maintain the food on the table and the roof above your heads.

First you categorically refused to bring her into that, but realizing it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet with your own endeavors and after thousands of silent and desperate “I’ll be fine, if you can do it then I can do it too” you finally gave in and introduced her to some men for whom your ripe age of twenty five was already too old to satisfy their needs.

You both didn't have much choice anyways since Grandma’am simply refused to move into a smaller apartment, let alone leave the Capitol. Apart from that and her other weird quirks she seemed to be a pretty nice lady. At least as far as you knew the right patriotic buttons to push in order to stay on her good side.

Crassus’ son Coriolanus or Coryo, as Tigris used to call him, didn't seem to like you one bit. He considered you an intruder, an unfair replacement to his mother that did nothing but reminded him of his family's tragedy.

Over the years Coryo seemed to have learned to tolerate you, mostly because he felt somewhat grateful for all your efforts, but still he remained cold and distant. You didn't particularly mind that, because you had no idea how to raise a young man. You felt pretty happy that he didn't ask you any awkward questions and managed to figure out everything himself.

Sometimes during his teenage years you noticed Coryo secretly watching you while you were changing or getting ready for a bath. On some occasions he even touched himself while doing it trying to suppress his little moans by biting into his fist. You always knew he was there, but you never confronted him. You knew full well it would make your coexistence very awkward for both of you and frankly you found it pretty amusing.

After all, he was just a silly little boy for you until the time his nineteenth birthday came around. It started even earlier if you thought about it. After Coryo returned from his service in District 12 and got his hands on the Plinths' fortune he turned into a completely different man.

Coryo always had the taste for finer things in life and when he finally got the means to fund it, you only saw him wearing tailored dress suits and perfectly polished shoes. Even his whole posture had changed and when he passed you in the dining room followed by an intoxicating wave of expensive cologne, instead of the anxious malnourished boy you had known for most of your life you saw a fit and handsome young man that reminded you of your late husband so much.

Your run down penthouse was completely refurbished to suit your stepson’s taste and he showered all three of you with lavish presents, encouraging you to throw out your old things.

Finally he could have the life he had always envisioned. And every last memory of your humble existence after the war had to be exterminated and written off into oblivion.

Coryo had become confident, strong and ambitious. Some might say even ruthless. It was hard for Tigris to accept those changes and she grew more distant with her younger cousin. They barely spoke, she was mostly just looking at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes.

Coryo didn't seem to care about that much. He didn't care about other people's feelings in general. But there was one interesting detail. The colder he became to others, the more delicate and gentle he was with you.

He always wanted to be in your vicinity, lighting your cigarette, opening the door for you or helping you to put on your coat. He always had to do a little something just to remind you he was there. He even pretended to care about your opinion, giving you the most dashing smile every time you seemed to agree with what he had actually already decided.

And the weirdest thing about that all was that he had started to refer to you as “mommy”. He had never called you that before and there was no particular reason for starting it now, especially because it seemed to make Tigris extremely uncomfortable.

And it sounded pretty eerie for your ears too, especially because Coryo always accompanied the word by giving you this one specific look that radiated childish naivety mixed with a hint of pure lust.

It always made your heart skip a beat, especially because in some weird twisted way you wanted it too. The sheer hunger in his icy blue eyes made your pussy tingle and after those interactions you always had to go to your room and touch yourself, your pleasure overshadowed by shame.

After all, you weren’t dead yet, you were just a woman in your early thirties and you hadn't been touched by a man since you had stopped selling your body. But for god's sake he was your stepson! You really needed to find some dick, before things spiraled out of control.

One day you returned to your room after running some errands and found a gift box on your bed. It was adorned with a crimson satin ribbon and a single white rose. You found an envelope laying next to it.

You opened it with trembling fingers, the strong rosy scent of Coryo's cologne filling the air. Inside the envelope there was a card with a few words in your stepson's neat handwriting.

From Coryo to Mommy with love…

You sighed and opened the box, finding a snow white, neatly folded piece of clothing inside. You couldn't really call it a nightgown, it was more like a negligee. You lifted the delicate item against the window, seeing the sunlight pass right through it. Of course it was nearly transparent apart from the exquisite hand made lace embroidery.

Coryo's taste was flawless as ever, you had to admit that, but this had to stop! You were gonna tell him tomorrow. But it wouldn't hurt anyone if you tried it on tonight, right? Just for one night, no one would find out, and you would demand him to return it tomorrow morning.

That night you put Coryo's present on and marveled at yourself in the mirror. It looked like a lacy cloud hugging your naked body so nicely the outline of your feminine curves visible through the sheer fabric. You turned around then moved your hips in a suggestive way flirting with your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so desirable.

After pairing the negligee with a pair of white cotton panties, you went to bed. Just as you were drowsing off into your sleep, you heard the door creak before someone opened and closed it quietly. You rubbed your eyes and switched on the night lamp just to notice Coryo standing by your bed wearing nothing but his tight white undies and a loose fitting silk robe. His hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual, instead his blonde curls were falling freely around his face.

“Mommy?” He gazed upon you with the most innocent look in his baby blue eyes. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Coryo had never slept in your bed, even when he was a young boy often haunted by terrible nightmares, Tigris was always the one who comforted him and sang him to his sleep, you were just sitting on your bed listening quietly until you were sure the boy was alright.

You knew full well what his true intentions were. You had to act like an adult.

“I really don't think it's the best idea, Coriolanus,” you tried to sound strict and inexorable.

“Please, mommy! It's so cold and I can't sleep. I feel embarrassed to go to Tigris and ask her for a lullaby, not to mention we’re not on the best terms right now,” he was looking at you, his blue eyes wide and desperate.

“Please, please, just this one time!”

You sighed deeply and gave him a faint nod.

“Alright, just this time!”

To your surprise Coryo threw the robe off his shoulders and pulled down his underwear, revealing his long, handsome half hard cock, its tip looking so velvety and just as pink as his lovely lips.

You were so caught off guard that you didn't even manage to make any protests before he jumped into your bed and glued himself to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Mommy…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, making you shiver. “I’ve been having the worst nightmares… About the war, about all the things we had to do to survive. I’ve tried everything to make them disappear, but they keep coming back…”

You knew this was your last chance to stop this, you had to push him away, order him to leave your room immediately and never come back, but instead sinful words of encouragement just spilled out of your mouth.

“It's alright, babyboy! Mommy's here and you're safe with me,” you hummed gently as your hand caressed his golden curls.

God, this felt so wrong on so many levels especially feeling your stepson's now fully hard cock pressing against your thigh, waiting for what seemed to be inevitable at this point.

“Thank you, mommy, you’re always so good to me,” you heard Coryo say just before feeling his lips on your neck. He kept kissing your soft skin and teasing it with his tongue, you felt your pulse running wild and you knew he probably felt it too.

Coryo's hand, previously resting on your shoulder, was now traveling down, his fingers dove under the lacy fabric of your negligee and started drawing circles around your nipple making your breath speed up.

“Coryo what are you doing?” Your mind still felt as you had to resist the pleasant feeling although your body was enjoying it so much.

He looked at you ever so innocently.

“I read that fidgeting something with your fingers can be really calming,” he said, playing with your nipples and tweaking them gently. “I just wanted to test that theory, it seems like it truly works…”

You just sighed, feeling your whole body filling with the insuperable feeling of pure lust, your nipples were rock hard under Coryo's masterful fingers and you felt a treacherous wetness pooling up in your panties. You hated that your own body was betraying you like that under your stepson's salacious touch.

“Mommy, you have such beautiful breasts…”

You inhaled sharply as Coryo's lips wrapped around your nipple, starting to suck hungrily, while his hand traveled further downwards. It easily found its way between your thighs and dove under the waistband of your soaked panties.

“Oh,” he cooed, dipping his fingers in your wetness. “Mommy really needs her babyboy to help her out, huh?”

“Shut up, Coriolanus!”

You grabbed a fistful of Coryo's curls and pulled him away from titty to smash your lips together in a passionate kiss, he felt so needy and desperate as he was exploring your mouth panting softly as you felt his erect cock pressing to your thigh, leaving a trail of precum from its leaking tip.

“Oh fuck, Coryo,” you whispered his name against his lips feeling him pushing his long slender fingers inside you. Your wet cunt that swallowed them so easily. You were literally dripping around his digits as you felt the embarrassment slowly leaving your body and getting replaced by a feeling of raw insatiable desire.

“I'm here for your mommy,” Coryo whispered, his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling against your soft walls and teasing your sweet spot.

“I will help you fulfill all your needs. That's what family's for right?”

With one swift move you pulled down your panties and crawled on top of him pinning him to the bed and covering his mouth with your hand.

“Don't mention family, you filthy little boy! If you want mommy to give you a treat, you need to stay quiet, is that clear?”

Coryo nodded and you took your hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around his throat instead. The young man gasped watching as your free hand steadied his rock hard cock at your entrance before you slowly sank down on him, your wet pussy taking his whole length with ease. A soft moan escaped your lips as he stretched out your tight cunt.

You kept your hand on his throat in a tight grip as you started to move at an easy pace, eliciting a series of moans from his lips. Coryo's pupils dilated as he saw your pussy sliding up and down his length making it glisten from your juices.

You tightened your grip around his throat as you sped up your movements enjoying his little gasps as he was fighting for air completely under your control. The sight before your eyes made you impossibly wet and lewd slapping sounds filled the room as you bounced up and down his shaft faster and faster with each movement.

Chasing your own pleasure you let go of Coryo's neck and threw your head back, letting the straps if your negligee slide down your shoulders revealing your lovely tits bouncing up and down as you kept riding your stepson's cock.

Coryo's eyes widened at the sight and he let out a deep groan as your tight walls clenched around his cock, his tip hitting against your sweet spot as you kept moving.

“Oh mommy, you’re making me feel so good,” Coryo spoke, breathing heavily as you were too busy chasing your release to make him keep up with his vow of silence.

“I want to cum inside you, to put a baby in your belly. To make you nice and round full of new life that would make our family complete and strengthen our ties forever.”

In your mind you realized how twisted these words were and that they could actually become true considering that you weren't on birth control since your sex work days but your brains were completely shut off by pleasure as you kept moving up and down Coryo's wonderful dick your manicured nails digging into his smooth pale chest.

Coryo's nostrils flared, watching your boobs bouncing up and down as he felt his climax approaching.

“I can't wait for those beautiful tits to be swollen and full of delicious milk oh oooooh…” he cut himself off, moaning loudly as thick ropes of cum filled your cunt spurting up against your velvety walls.

You rode him through his orgasm and your red nails dug deep into his skin leaving red scratches. After mere seconds you came hard all over his cock and squelching sounds filled the room as your juices were mixing together with his cum. You collapsed on top of your stepson, his cock still inside you and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

“Just let me stay inside mommy's pussy a little longer,” he whispered. “Don't let the seed go to waste.”

“Fuck you, Coriolanus!” You hissed and bit into his neck using his distraction to wiggle out of his grip and crawl off of him making him whine at the loss of contact.

Coryo didn't put up a fight, he just watched you as you pulled the straps of your negligee back on your shoulders and then pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.

You sighed and brushed a stray curl off his forehead looking into his big sleepy eyes. There was no way of denying the fact that you had just slept with your stepson, especially since you could still feel his heart beating softly against your skin and his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

It was so wrong. But still deep down in your heart in some sick and twisted way it felt so incredibly right.

#alright I will show myself out #let me know if you want more of this though #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg tbosas #oneshot #cts post

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wosoluver · 3 days

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Not good at saying goodbyes.

Part 2/? - previous - next

Lena Oberdorf × Reader

And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.

You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.

If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.

But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.

Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.

And the deal had been settled.

And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.

Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.

You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.

Not knowing where to start was tough. After all besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.

You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.

You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.

You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.

"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."

"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."

"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.

"Yes, played for them first time this year."

"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.

"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.

"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."

"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."

And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.

"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.

"It's fine."

But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.

Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.

From that day on, that's what it was like.

You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.

You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?

"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.

"Morning Georgia."

"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"

"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.

"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."

"I'll try talking to her."

You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.

But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.

Lena's pov

"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." - said Lea to her friend.

"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"

"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."

"See that's exactly what your doing!"

"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."

This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.

reader's pov

During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.

The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.

"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.

"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."

"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"

"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.

You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.

You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.

Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.

You moved as quick as you could into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.

"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"

You were quiet for a few minutes.

"A hug?" whispering back.

You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.

"Of course."

You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.

"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."

"Did you hear any of it?"

"Yeah."

"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."

"How old were you?"

"About eight."

"You were just a kid!"

"It's still my fault."

"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"

"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."

"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."

"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."

"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm good, I drove here."

"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"

We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #futfem #fc bayern frauen #dfb frauen

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hannahssimblr · 8 hours

Text

“I have to say, this is an impressive body of work.”

I shift in my seat, “By impressive do you mean that it’s good, or that there’s a lot of it?”

This gets a laugh. “Both,” says the man, Paul, flicking through a sketchbook with tattooed hands, fingers stained from nicotine. I notice things like this now. Hands. I notice their lines and their bones, all their interesting details, and perhaps Paul himself could gauge this now as he pours over my figure studies where there are pages upon pages of hands, old and young, my friends, my sisters at the piano, an old woman clutching at a handrail on the train, and my own, a hundred times in different ways, blisters, plasters, hangnails and bruises from the rugby pitch.

The woman, Ida, shuffles through a stack of watercolour paintings I did last summer, mostly seascapes, the beach and the rushes, the whitewashed houses and rusted iron of the Wexford coast. Just looking at them I can recall the grit of sand under my bare feet as I warmed them on the deck of our holiday home behind my portable easel. In three months I’ll return again for one last summer, and after that I expect I’ll miss it there.

“And you said you didn’t do a portfolio preparation year?” She says, peering over the rim of her glasses.

“No, I’m still at school.”

“Highly unusual for a sixth year,” her eyebrows climb up her forehead, “You've clearly dedicated a lot of time to this.”

I shrug, “Yeah, I like making art, I don’t know.”

It’s difficult to tell what this woman is thinking. Everything about her is harsh, dramatic, from the sharp fringe that sits straight and neat above her brows to the slash of her mouth, thin lips, pointy chin, hard eyes, but I have to assume for the sake of my own self esteem that she doesn’t positively loathe my portfolio. She spends some time looking through my work, slowly, methodically, sometimes leaning closer to frown at something, maybe some proportion that’s off, bad composition, a clumsy attempt at ambient occlusion that doesn’t hit the mark…

“It’s beautiful,” she says simply, and I exhale.

“Oh look, a familiar face,” Paul holds a portrait to Ida, “That’s the girl that we were interviewing a few people before this, what was her name again?”

“Michelle,” I say, “My girlfriend.”

Paul nods, “Michelle, right! Good likeness,” and places the notebook back onto the table. Leaning back in his chair, he cracks his knuckles, “Look, Jude, there’s no two ways about it here, your work is outstanding. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a portfolio that hits every mark, every requirement and goes beyond, I mean,” he lets out a puff of air and gestures to the table, “this is nuts. And for a sixth year? Come on. This stuff would blow some of our third and fourth year college students out of the water.”

I feel like I could melt off the chair with relief, but try to suppress my utter delight so that they don’t think I’m too hungry for validation.

“Cool.”

“It’s the sensitivity,” Ida adds, “Your observation skills, your sense of weight, movement, knowledge of anatomy. It’s rare to see this kind of work from a secondary school student. Your efforts are just… so impressive.”

“And look, we know it depends on your Leaving Cert points, and yeah, that’ll be a contributing factor when it comes to acceptance, but, like,” Paul looks over the table again, tossing his hands up conclusively, “as far as I’m concerned, we’ll see you in September.”

Ida’s mouth curls into a smile, “We hope. If you choose us.”

If I choose them? Am I dreaming? How have I become the kind of person who is coveted by an art school? Surely not. Surely soon I’ll wake up and discover that this whole interview has been a product of my dreams. Too much time spent stressing out over art, the requirements, the brief... Almost certainly I’ve fallen asleep somewhere and none of this is real.

“That’s really kind of you to say. I’m glad you liked my stuff.”

“Blown away,” says Paul, and he leaps to his feet to shake my hand like I’ve just won a prize, “all we need is a pass in the Leaving Cert, you can surely manage it.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure I do.”

They’re smiling at me as I gather up my work, and still smiling as I give them one last sheepish wave from the door, and I realise I am still smiling too as I face the hallway of waiting students, staring at me with portfolios rested against their knees. I probably shouldn’t look too overjoyed, it might knock their confidence, so I try to look very bored instead as I pass by, though I may explode from the inside out.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #he's back baby #looking cuter than ever #I love hipster era Jude so much??#and c'mon #y'all know what's coming this summer #anyone recognise Ida?

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archivomeow · 1 day

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i love you & it’s ruining my life.

masterlists & more | read on ao3

description; jennifer has been acting off lately and when you get the chance to confront her, you learn that she sees you as more than a friend.

warnings; curse words, some jealousy and yelling.

a/n; emily is briefly mentioned, this piece hopefully cured my writers block 🙏

word count; 719

— THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!

It was like her eyes were burning a hole in your back. You could feel her gaze on you, Jennifer has been avoiding you for days, she was clearly upset and on edge, so you just let her be, but she wasn’t making it easy. Her continuous stares and snarky comments have been getting on your nerves, that combined with all the confusion you felt towards her at the moment resulted in anger.

Jennifer has been an amazing friend ever since you joined the team and when you felt her drift away slowly you did your best to figure out what happened, however she didn’t want to talk about it and everyone advised that you figure it out on your own, which was going nowhere. She just continued to distance herself more and more, day by day, until you were so sick of it you forced an answer out of her.

When Emily filled the two of you on what she and Reid learned, it was your only moment when the two of you were alone.

“What’s your problem, hm?” You turned to her, she stood slightly behind you, was silent the whole time you and Emily talked, not like she spoke much before that.

“I don’t have a problem, now can we get back go our job?”

You scoff at her words. “You stop talking to me, we stop hanging out and any of my efforts to save our friendship are met with… nothing… At least you could talk to the team. I don’t understand why you’re cutting away from me, but being a bitch to Emily is useless.” You sighed, unsure what to do if you’re shut down once again. How many times can you confront her, before it’s too much?

“If you have an issue with me, I’d like to know what is it.” You stood straight in front of her, looking her dead in the eyes. Her face was stoic, calm, but her eyes, her gaze showed it all. She was clearly upset.

“I don’t have an issue! Fuck…” Jennifer mumbles the last word under her breath as she runs her hand through her blonde hair.

“You want to act like friends? Alright… Friends are honest. So, what’s going on between you and Emily, huh? You got close all of a sudden, are you two like a thing now?”

Her voice is bitter. JJ could feel the rage building up inside her stomach and chest, she felt so angry and so fucking jealous.

“I- Is this what this is about? Me having other friends? For fucks sake!” You shut your eyes for a moment, it all felt like a bad dream, but it wasn’t.

“Friends? I ser the way you look at her and the way she looks at you, I’m not stupid or blind!”

You went silent, she was jealous, clearly. The Jennifer you knew was never like this, she was kindhearted and sweet and caring, not jealous and enraged like the version of her you were seeing right now, in front of you. Her words struck you, she wasn’t jealous about you and Emily being friends, she was jealous, because she thought there was more between you and Emily. She just stared back at you, her eyes mad, as she slowly realised how crystal clear she made it what exactly bothered her, she didn’t want Emily falling for you or you liking her back.

“Jennifer…” Your voice was now more steady and calm, you carefully looked her up and down, trying to figure out how upset she still was. You approached her slowly, she rose hands slowly as you tried to hug her, but she broke quickly, her mask shattered with one simple hug and she wrapped her arms around you as well.

Her heart was going crazy against your chest, you could feel it pounding and you could feel her breath against your neck, it was still uneasy.

As the two of you pulled away and your eyes met hers, her beautiful ocean blue eyes, you just thought one thing to yourself; “fuck it”.

So you grabbed her face gently and locked your lips with hers, you could feel her strawberry lips balm and her hand on your hip.

It was unethical, but that didn’t matter now, not to you or her.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds hurt/comfort #angst #hurt/comfort #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #gn!reader #jennifer jareau x gn!reader #jemnifer jareau angst #jennifer jareau hurt/comfort #aj cook

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thistlefaethfort · 2 days

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YELLOW

— read this first or this might not make sense!

— ao3 link!

If Sandra Lynn had her way, the Solesian Rangers work schedule would be a little more focused on rest and recovery, but she couldn’t really complain about the leniency the organisation had for people with families at home. No one had been more quick to sign off on her time off requests than her manager, she knew that Sandra Lynn was competent enough to catch up as quickly as needed. In a few months, she thought she would probably offer her the role herself. Today though, she finished up at lunch time and arrived home, shoulders weary with the weight of yellow paint cans.

It was a buttery, blonde colour that made her itchy to look at. It was the colour of Baxter’s feathers when they were downy and he was so young that sometimes she let him sleep at the foot of her bed, even on the nights Fig had crawled in between her and Gilear. It was something warm that got sharp late in the day, when the sun settled on it low in the sky late in the afternoon. Like milk poured in a sweet honey tea. It was golden and there were enough cans of it left on the shelf that Sandra Lynn thought people probably underestimated it. She thought it would make the chapel look like a bedroom.

It took her a handful of hours to painstakingly move everything away from the walls: the bedframe, the posters, the duffel bag that she point blank refused to look at for longer than a few seconds at a time — just in case. Once everything was piled up in the centre and covered with a tarp, Sandra Lynn put on an old shirt that was probably not hers but had ended up in her closet anyway and pulled out her brushes from under the sink. She washed the walls, scrubbed at them until dust stopped falling from the stone, and stared at the stained glass for long enough that the sun shifted to glare back through the angel's golden halo.

Then the door opened further across the house and she grinned to herself; it was easier now, to breathe knowing all the kids were safe under her roof, because she knew they were taking care of each other. There was no reason to hover around all the places her adopted and not yet adopted kids might be, because she was trying to trust that they would come to her if they needed a mom, or an adult, or a squirrel killer. Sandra Lynn could try to trust them for that. Fabian yelled something and Jawbone howled in a way that usually meant hang tight. Aelwyn spoke and there was a higher pitched response in that oh so similar Fallinel accent that was getting fainter as the two disappeared up the stairs. Fig cackled and there was the sound of at least four footsteps pounding across the house to where she knew her girl kept her guitar. She was distracted, not noticing when her final kid reappearing home for the day emerged through the door to her room.

It took a lot of effort not to jump and drop the paintbrush when Kristen’s voice, muffled by what looked like a fistful of popcorn that sprayed halfway across the room when she said ‘thandragh thlinn?’ Maybe time had gotten away from her, because she hadn’t expected for the girl to see the room until it was done, and her mind had already sprinted away to try and figure out if any beds were going spare tonight or if they should set up the den sleepover style. Pointedly, she didn’t think about how rare a night was where she didn’t hear light footsteps pattering about the house in the early hours. When everyone was home, there were ten kids with their own bedrooms (except for Adaine who let her sister share), and all of them were traumatised. They were good to each other though, and on the nights she thought the awake one might need a hug or a mug of tea, there was always a second teenager perched next to them; eyes blurry with sleep but risen for their friend anyway. She must have been quiet too long, because the voice started again, clear now, ‘are you painting in here? Did I forget you were doing this? I’m sorry —’ Sandra Lynn cut her off ‘ — I was wrong. Kristen I was wrong to put you in here and now the house is filling up and I don’t have a different room for you, so I picked up some paint,’ her fingers spasmed. It had been a bad, thoughtless call at the time. Kristen had grown up groomed and hurt by a church and she had to be reminded of every time she went to bed or woke up, and now she was sleeping in it alone, without even a God to pray goodnight to. She picked up one of the cans and showed her the colour, a glob hitting the tarp she had laid down over the old wood floors, and tried for a smile, ‘yellow, but not as bright as your tracksuit.’

Much to Sandra Lynn’s horror (because her shirt was covered in paint and her kid was wearing something other then that tracksuit for once and she would do anything to encourage her to wear other things as often as possible), Kristen’s eyes started to shine and her shoulders sagged. The woman dodged drips of paint and made her way to the girl, squeezing her shoulder hard enough to drag her back to earth. Her voice cracked and suddenly Sandra Lynn didn’t know whether or not she was going to cry herself, but she did laugh, just a little and quietly. ‘You got some muscle going kid, you sure you don’t wanna join the ranger track?’ She asked, mostly joking but not all the way. All of her Bad Kids were going to excel at whatever it was they chose to do in the end, but she hoped they thrived as a group first, she hoped they did whatever they wanted and it never hurt. Her smile grew a little bittersweet and she hoped Kristen didn’t catch it as she reminded herself that that was never how an adventurer’s story ended.

She offered out a paintbrush, ‘you gonna help me finish these last few walls or are you crashing at someone else’s room tonight?’

#sharkie writes #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #dimension 20 #the bad kids #sandralynn faeth #kristen applebees #jawbone o'shaughnessey #adaine abernant #fig faeth #figueroth faeth #fabian aramais seacaster #aelwyn abernant #gorgug thistlespring #riz gukgak #d20 #fantasy high ficlet

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grapecinnamon · 17 hours

Text

Been thinking of another cute but maybe kinda sad Welcome Home situation

Sooo....

Wally can't eat normally in the series. And it's implied he can't sleep either. But he slowly starts doing both. It takes a lot of effort to get him to eat properly with his mouth, but as for sleeping... that one kinda sneaks up on him, and no one tells him what it's gonna feel like or when it'll happen.

it happens when he's painting and he's inside of home, when he starts to feel drowsy. He's never felt this before and it feels weird. Imagine being drowsy for the very first time in your life and no one's there to explain. But he notices himself leaning over slightly in his chair, like he can't hold himself up. He feels his pompadour coming undone with how his head is positioned but he doesn't bother fixing it. He's trying to paint a tree to the right of the canvas but his mind is so foggy he can barely focus...

Then his hair falls in front of him, startling him and almost knocking him off his stool. "Home," he asks. "Why... do... I... feel... so......... low." his speech is more slowed down, it's harder for him to form his thoughts into words. Home doesn't know either. He's never seen Wally like this before.

It's not until Wally lets out a big yawn that Home understands. "What... was... that?" Wally asks himself. "Why... did... I... scream... so quietly?" Home explains in morse code and Wally understands but he doesn't want to accept it.

"What?... I'm drowsy?... But... this... doesn't... happen to me... I... don't... get... tired..." Home does morse code with its shutters and door again, suggesting Wally take a nap.

"Oh... but I'm... painting..." Home tells him to finish it later. "But Home... what... if... I... sleep... too... *yawn* long?" Home tells him he'll wake him in a couple hours. Really though, he's just saying that. They're actually gonna let Wally sleep until he wakes up on his own.

Wally sighs, and yawns again. "okay..." He puts the paintbrush down, too tired to clean it off. He walks slowly towards his bed, not before bumping into a table. "Ow." Both his tired head and his hair in front of his eyes were making it hard to focus. He made his way to the bed , knocked his shoes off, and crawled into the sheets. he would've changed into his pajamas, but he didn't really care.

His head hit the pillow. God it felt amazing. He tried to pick himself up but it felt too good. He figured he could've tricked Home, maybe lie on the bed for a couple hours instead of sleeping so he could get back to painting. But it was no use, he could hardly think as his eyes closed and he snuggled deep into the mattress, his blanket feeling like the best hug he's ever had. He holds the pillow as he rests his head against it.

It doesn't take long until Home hears something from Wally. Instead of the repeated "I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping," Home hears quiet snoring, the kind you hear from a small cat. Home couldn't help but watch over the little snoozing peanut, imagining what he was probably dreaming about.

Bonus: Wally, deep in his slumber, gets a phone call from a neighbor. The phone is right next to the bed and without thinking, Wally's hand picks up the phone and quickly puts it back down. Whoever was calling won't be hearing from Wally for a while🍎😴

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home fandom #wally darling #wally darling welcome home #home welcome home #welcome home prompts #welcome home writing #this is making me sleepy damn #god I love this little man so much #I just want him to experience a great nap #and without his remderem too

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