#but now that it is starting to resonate that Wait That's Actually Fucked Up
Text
.
#started going to therapy again in the hopes of coping better with my fam situation#but my therapist is pretty adamant that the situation is too toxic for me to be able to heal in#and i know he's right but also i'm not in a place rn where i can leave said situation or have the emotional capacity to try#and having a third party affirm that the position you're in is actually more fucked up than u thought is both validating and exhausting#bc like before i was just like ''my mom is entitled to still be close to the ppl who sexually abused me''#and was able to just blame all my rage and frustration and hurt on myself#but now that it is starting to resonate that Wait That's Actually Fucked Up#just existing around my mom has become so much more exhausting#& i've spoken to my therapist abt this but i'm venting here bc i'm really feeling it today#it's sounds dumb but having someone explain to u that ur rightfully at ur limit at all times makes it so real somehow#ofc i'm at my limit at all times in this environment most people would be too!!!#i'm just so tired 😭😭#tired and overwhelmed and tired and overwhelmed#and#ugh
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | feyd-rautha
( gif credits to @wondrousashes )
—summary: on a calm day back at your home, you shattered away the serenity as you decide to confront feyd about his alleged concubines and the little secrets he seemed so cautious to hide, pushing him further and further to the edge.
—pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader
—word count: 4k
—warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy, a bit of implied smut (the actual smut is coming up in the next and last chapter !!!), mentions of sex, mentions of cannibalism, feyd being a slut for the reader (as he should), mentions of killing and death, hot and very passionate love confessions, definitely ooc!feyd.
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)
The week at Giedi Prime went by so fast that you hardly noticed any of it. The first day had been a bit slow and tedious, but the ones that followed turned out to be more than agreeable and enjoyable, Feyd-Rautha had been very concerned about keeping you entertained and as comfortable as possible, showing you every corner of the palace and walking you around the city.
But for now, you were back at your home for the last visit you would have there before becoming a Harkonnen. Feyd was staying close to you through all the reunion, naturally, diplomatically greeting your family.
“You met his cannibal lovers yet?” Paul's voice echoed inside your head between Feyd's conversations with Duke Leto, your gaze drifting to your brother in absolute alarm, horrified at the question and relieved that, so far, the answer was negative.
“There are rumors that tell how his concubines feed on the hearts of his dead opponents.” Your brother propelled you with the oh-so-cute information about your future husband. “The bastard has not one, but three. I guess you'll have to battle it out with them for his love, that was Duncan said.”
“Stop it, don't be an idiot.” You snapped back at him, averting your gaze from him to Feyd-Rautha, who was conversing ever so formally with Lady Jessica now.
You couldn't imagine him eating of human flesh, nor fucking three different women at the same time. Although, rumors always started from something and during the few times you had been able to get inside Feyd's head, you hadn't seen anything that was remotely pretty or light.
Paul's words managed to resonate in your head, lingering between the walls with a sense of suspicion.
Maybe that was why he never showed you the intimacy of his chambers... because on his bed lay three women compliantly awaiting for his attention and lust.
For some reason, the false image of him fucking them, bodies intertwined and interlinked, voices whimpering and moaning, made you feel respulsive, your guts twisting like a serpent.
You didn't want to believe it was jealousy, but again, your mind never wanted you to believe anything at all.
The palace of the Atreides stood majestically between rocky mountains, with the golden sunlight falling beautifully on the grayish stone walls, bringing in a warm afternoon. Rising magnificently behind your back, standing like a rocky guardian.
Your gaze was on Feyd-Rautha as you walked together along the outskirts balconies of the castle, your greenish dress swaying in the sea breeze, as did your hair, which you wore unusually loose that day, the sweet smell of it had him crazy.
“Do you like it?” You asked him after a few moments of silence, with a hint of a smile that Feyd noticed as he turned to look at you, noticing as well how you waited expectantly for his opinion of your home, which he knew you always held close to your heart.
After a second, he nodded his head, looking at you intently. “I do.”
His blue eyes, which looked as clear as ever under the natural glow of the place followed you as you walked beside him, keeping himself close to you, he could feel the natural warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your scent.
It was the first time you saw his eyes showing their true color, for back in his home, they rarely reflected so much brightness and his orbs glowed so beautifully in the sunlight. They possessed the most beautiful shade of blue, reminding you of the ocean, of home.
“It's nothing like my home.” Feyd-Rautha added in a more amused, lighter tone of voice, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to the ground, noting how the grass softened each of his steps on it.
“Obviously. Caladan is everything that Giedi Prime and Arrakis are not.” You answered him, snorting the words out with a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind, turning your head to look at him once you stopped at the edge of a greenish cliff after descending one of the many rocky staircases that rose up through the hills.
The sea stretched into the immensity of the horizon and the water was uncommonly calm, waves lapping the shore relentlessly. It was a calm and peaceful scene out there, quite the opposite of what you felt inside, as you felt a tempest of emotions raging in your soul.
“Have you been with someone else like this?”
There was another one of your little questions again.
And he pondered the answer, dragging his eyes as blue as the ocean itself in front of them, back to you.
But Feyd-Rautha was rather certain that you already knew the answer, that you already had it, you could tell by the way he looked at you and the way he addressed you. Because it was enough to be clear that he had never been this way with anyone before, he had never spoken to anyone like this and he had never been so pleased to be in someone's company, basically in his entire life.
“The only people I've ever had this close to me are my family or my enemies, neither of whom I think entertain my presence very much.” Was his reply, honest and respectful. His husky voice, in contrast to the graceful sea breeze was a pleasant and comforting noise to you.
His words were masked with a touch of amusement, as he used to do in the last days when he spoke to you, it seemed as if you brought back that inner child he had, a stranger who felt increasingly closer.
But even using that tone, his eyes told you that he was not lying, that he was giving you the pure truth.
Yet, somehow you were not satisfied with his response. And he knew it.
“Have you been with other women?”
Feyd drew in a breath, half-opening his lips, air hissing between his teeth.
“So I'm assuming you've heard about the rumors about me?”
And there he was, answering you with another question to challenge you back, to play with your head as he had grown to love to do during the short time you had been in each other's company. Your conversations always ended up being a game of back and forth, a game of a tension that would be cut with the least sharp blade.
“My future wife likes to guide what she believes by mere rumors?” He pressed further.
And as always, you exhaled the air held inside you, twisting your head slightly, looking at him with incredulous eyes. “These are not rumors, Feyd —I've seen it.”
His blue eyes narrowed as he walked closer to you, expression both intrigued and yet defiant. “What do you mean you've seen it? Don't play games with me now, woman.”
“Don't threaten me, man,” You squinted your eyes as you pronounced the word like poison, almost coming out like an insult. “I'm not afraid of you.” With your own response to his defiance, this immediately silenced him, stopping him in his tracks right in front of you, as you stepped closer to him, your presence growing menacing now. You were really upset. “Do you think that when I marry you I will allow you to go on screwing around with them?”
“You met them and they threatened you?” Feyd asked in a low tone, maintaining a calm demeanor, though he wanted to know if any of his concubines had dared to even glance at you during your stay at Giedi Prime. His orbs reflected a sensation that ranged to a murderous, bloodthirsty urge, not at you, but at anyone who was stupid enough to threaten you. “Tell me, did they say anything to you?”
You crooked your head very slightly, looking genuinely offended by his questioning.
“Do you think I would allow any of your concubines —anyone at all— to threaten me and go on with their lives?” You replied instantly, looking him up and holding his gaze, as brave as ever. You seemed to be the only one in the whole universe who dared to answer him and put him in his place. And he was loving it, he felt the desire to be broken by you, to let you destroy all his walls and reach his soul. “They'd already be dead if they did.”
An amused grimace twisted his lips, gaze darkening with pride, desire even, approving of your words, feeling suddenly small under the vastness of your aura, dark and menacing now.
“Don't worry about them.” His words sounded humorous this time, just as his fingers laced between yours, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, an attempt to reassure you. “Soon I'll be all yours, sweet girl.”
You frowned your brow slightly, as did your lips, still looking offended. He squinted his eyes, hissing as he realized he had said the wrong thing, yet again.
“I'm not sweet.” Your hand released his, your annoyance rising with the seconds. “I'm not one of your pets you can treat as sweet, Feyd-Rautha.”
He raised his brow, following you with his gaze, puzzled, as you turned around and began to walk back to the palace, turning your back on him and leaving him to talk alone.
“One of my pets?” He questioned, with that amused grimace plastered on his mouth again, as he began to follow your hurried footsteps, his pale face reflected a blend of frustration and irritation. “Do you think I would treat you like one of my pets?”
His voice sounded so husky and frustrated and delicious that you felt like just stopping and jumping on him right there. But your own self-respect and pride were more important, you wanted to believe.
Seeing that you weren't planning to stop, Feyd tried to stop you by grabbing your arm, but his hand remained over your smooth skin, with no major result in trying to calm you down, so he cleared his voice, making the attempt to be as cautious and reassuring with his words.
“I think you must understand that desire and lust is something we all possess, my lady, not just men.”
He was physically relieved when you stopped to be able to look at him, with his hand lingering on your forearm.
But your eyes were still dark with discomfort when they met his once again. “I won't be one of your girls, Feyd-Rautha.”
His lips parted, brow furrowing slightly, his voice kept low. “(Y/N)—”
He stood right there, utterly speechless, with his voice caught in his throat, watching you walk away from him, striding with steps that exuded pure anger up to your rocky palace. His hand dropped from your arm and returned to his side, now far from your warmth and heartbeat.
It took Feyd-Rautha a couple of minutes to pull himself together, sighing heavily, a small smirk curving his lips as he began to walk the path back to the Atreides' palace.
He was absolutely thrilled to discover this side of you that he hadn't previously seen. You were truly frightening and he was loving it.
By the time the moon was bright in the center of the dark sky, shining through the thickness of black, a pair of soft knocks sounded against your chamber door and you didn't have to use any hint of your skills to know who it was.
He looked at you with those now dark blue eyes from across the threshold, arm resting lightly against the grayish stone. He looked strangely troubled, look shadowed.
“Have you always been such a perfect seductress?”Feyd asked you just as you made a questioning gesture with your head. “How many men have you seduced like this?”
You looked him up with doubting eyes, frown slightly furrowed. “What are you talking about—”
He interrupted you in a scratchy voice, fearing somehow, that someone else might hear him, that someone else might witness how desperately vulnerable he was being, for you.
“You've broken me. All I can think about is you.”
Feyd took one step forward and you one step back, so you two moved as if you were in a kind of dance until he eventually entered your chambers, pulling the door shut behind him.
“I can't handle not touching you. It's a rule I'm on the brink of breaking for you.” He whispered and your breath caught in your throat, exhaling air in a stuttering gasp. “And I should— I'm expected to be a gentleman. I'm supposed to behave myself, keep my composure. But you… you are driving me crazy, woman, you play with my head, you've bewitched me.”
You could really see that he was trying to explain himself for you, attempting to articulate everything that was going through his head and you knew that it was very unusual for him to speak out loud about his feelings. And now, you were the one who couldn't say anything at all.
It was true, the most important rule your mother had emphasized to you was that you were not to get involved sexually, or in any way with your betrothed, until the very day of the actual wedding, as that particular night was meant to be consumed.
“Y—you shouldn't be here, my lord.” You managed to utter out after a few hesitant stutters, feeling your back brush against the wall and having him in front of you, trapping you against his body. He seemed to be struggling against his body, against his desire and instinct, hesitant hands twitching at his sides, nearly reaching out instinctively for your body.
“You were so bold back there talking back to me, what happened now? Aw, what happened, pretty?” He asked in a more teasing tone of voice, holding your gaze. “We could put that mouth of yours to good use then, hm?”
“My lord—”
“Call me by name.” He demanded, he begged you, whispering.
“Feyd...” You named him so obediently that it made him smile darkly to himself. “Someone might listen.”
“Are you afraid that someone will find out that two people who are getting married desired each other?” Feyd asked, half-closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose, as if trying to compose himself, trying to convince himself more than you. “There is nothing wrong for a husband to crave for his wife, right?”
You gulped, and his eyes instantly landed on your throat, watching as bone and muscle moved beneath the flesh, his tongue twitched, aching with all his will to be able to just lick the skin of your neck.
“I guess not.” Your voice trembled even when you were trying extra hard to sound confident and certain. “But we are not yet husband and wife.”
“Soon...” Feyd muttered, almost as if he was making a promise, uttering a vow.
His eyes closed as he finally rested his forehead against yours and suddenly, you were breathing from the same air. His trembling breath was warm against your lips and his scent was everything you could have ever craved... and it felt so familiar that your soul seemed to shudder, like something you had smelled all your life, something that had haunted you even in dreams, forever present but yet always so far distant.
“Can I touch you?” Feyd breathed out against your mouth after a few moments.
You didn't answer him verbally, instead you slowly took his hands between yours, fingers placing them in parallel against his, allowing you to feel every inch of the imprint drawn on his fingertips as you dragged yours across his palm, both feeling the size difference.
Then, you rested his big, calloused hands on your waist, allowing him to touch and hold you as much as he wanted and to permit him to do so, a single sight on your eyes was all it took.
He hissed as his hands molded the curve of your waist and instantly afterward drew you into his body, pulling you fully against the wall behind you. Your back arched instinctively and you gasped too, so softly, your chest pressed against his with the motion.
“Touch me.” Feyd-Rautha pleaded, he had never pleaded so... desperately for anything ever in his life.
That was your allowance for your hands reaching for his body, out of control, one making a slow path up through his strong arms while the other rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palm, beating echoing your own. Your fingertips gently patted his muscles, recognizing his skin and his body. You got the abrupt urge to claim it as yours. To claim him.
You felt yourself blushing at all the overly imaginative and lustful images of him invading your head.
His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling it affectionately, still without opening his eyes, as if he were in some kind of dream from which he didn't want to wake up. His fingers caressed your belly, tracing a slow caress across your entire abdomen upward, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you against him.
His touch triggered an immediate reaction across your flesh, skin shivering under his fingers.
Feyd whispered your name like a prayer, like a thirsty man, crawling and screaming for water.
“I'm trying to be good...”
“Don't be.” You whispered back, almost begging, looking up at him, gaze meeting his once he opened his eyes. “Please, Feyd—”
Then finally his lips landed on yours, initiating a kiss that you both craved so much, maybe he more than you for the way he brought you close to him, almost possessively, like a mad man, almost as if he was imprinting his mark on you, marking you for whoever had the courage to look at you.
He let himself sink in the way your lips fit against yours, in the warmth your body offered him, in the all too familiar sensation he could sense in every single fiber of his core from the kiss, your kiss.
Feyd-Rautha felt like a roaring beast just unleashed, ruthless and insatiable, just like when he walked into the arena, eager to kill, rooting against his opponents —and now he was rooting for you, to be near you, to intertwine his soul with yours, to claim you as his own.
And claiming you he was, his scent covered you all over now, making you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, throbbing crotch, blood seething like an infernal flare. Anyone who came near you would not only smell you, but him too, on every inch of your body. His hands roamed just under your breasts, rubbing across your ribcage and sliding down your back, fingers just barely grazing your ass, pressing you tightly against him in desperation, grasping and squeezing as much of your tender flesh as they could.
Your own palms roamed up his chest, caressing his broad shoulders, all the way up to his neck, tugging him closer to you in desperate motions, impossibly close.
When your bodies begged for oxygen, you broke the passionate kiss, leaving you both breathless. He kissed you once more, allowing you to breathe just for a few seconds before all you breathed was him. He wanted to become your oxygen, something indispensable to you, something you needed to live with, a necessity.
“You're the only one.” Feyd-Rautha mumbled out as his hot and soft lips trailed down a wet path all the way to your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with sloppy kisses, each time his lips pulled back from your skin a wet noise echoed and filled the room, making you gasp.
You could feel the way his lips were modulating each word against your skin, as if using a language so intimate and so tight that it took your breath away. A language known and used just between the two of you.
With desirous eyes he looked at the dark crimson mark he'd left on your throat before raising them across your flushed face, his hands cradling your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin tenderly.
“When my uncle gave me the announcement that I was to marry you, I kicked them all out.” He continued to explain, pecking your lips a couple of times before kissing each cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, every single feature of your entire face, with the utmost care and adoration.
No one had ever looked at you the way he was looking at you right now.
Feyd rasped out a small chuckle, breath warm tickling against your nose. “And by kicking them out I mean I killed them.”
His comment didn't surprise you at all, in fact, it didn't even provoke a reaction in you. During the week you had been in his company, you had already gotten used to Feyd-Rautha's -almost cruel- honesty and sassy remarks, you were just starting to get used to his very eccentric and unique attitude. Because the na-Baron's personality was something that was most captivating to you, he was so different yet so similar to you.
“Of course.” You replied, trying to hold back that dark grin on your lips, an action that caused him to kiss you once more, his attention was on your mouth the whole time as you spoke to him in that tone of voice. “I would expect nothing less from the Feyd-Rautha and for my future husband.”
Again he rested his forehead against yours and you were the one who kissed his lips this time. It had become a reassuring habit in a span of less than five minutes for both of you.
“I can't do anything to you until we get married, my uncle would find out otherwise. I have —we have— to behave, my love.”
He seemed to read your mind this time, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, biting your lower lip gently, eyes darkened with desire, silently begging him to just take you right there against the wall when he called like that.
Perhaps Feyd-Rautha was a hopeless romantic just like you or he simply desired you in ways that went beyond mere sex or plain lust.
“Are you afraid of him?” You softly asked him, your fingers stroking the back of his neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Your fingertips followed the trail of one of his veins marked on his neck, making him gasp lightly.
“Have you seen him?” Feyd responded with another question, a curved little smile on his lips, his tone of voice directed pure sarcasm. “I don't think I'm in such a position as to challenge the Baron.”
You nodded your head, fingers stroking his cheekbones now, tapping the moles that spread across his face affectionately. “He's terrifying.”
Your heart seemed to melt as you watched him close his eyes and lean against your hand, kissing the palm in action.
“Mhm...” Feyd hummed, watching you attentively, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of amusement.
“Were you seriously jealous of my darlings?”
Your heart seemed to drop to your stomach and burn with your guts as you heard the nickname fall from his mouth.
“Call them that again and I'll cut your throat.” You murmured against his lips, kissing them slowly before pulling away from his body, looking up at him with dark, yet playful eyes, your hand roaming across his chest until it fell to your side as you stepped away. Then you made your way towards your bed with a very slow pace, under the attentive gaze of his azure eyes following every movement of your hips.
His heart —apparently non-existent until then— was pounding like crazy inside his chest as his lips parted, for once again you had left him speechless.
That was living proof that you were simply made for him. And he for you.
And maybe that just meant you were each other's weakness, people would say so.
But he felt just invincible in your presence, as if your company made him behold the whole universe, gave him the power of the all galaxy at hand, making him feel like the only man in existence. Your man.
Feyd-Rautha had never felt so desperate to make you his wife and finally call you his.
#feyd rautha x reader#cosmictheo#feyd rautha one shot#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha imagine#feyd rautha#feyd rautha harkonnen#dune x reader#dune 2#dune imagine#austin butler x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
VOID JOURNEY❤︎︎
( long post ahead‼️‼️)
Y’all……. A HOE DID IT!! I ENTERED THE VOID!!!! but i didn’t manifest anything :(((. So basically i don’t really even remember much from last night all i remember is falling asleep and seeing complete blackness. Now i’ve been to the void tons of times without know i’ve been there. @b4ddprincess realization void post OPENED MY FUCKING EYES and got me to realize what the void ACTUALLY was. That darkness you’re surrounded by when you fall asleep and you can’t move or speak or do anything else but literally exist. When i was like 10 i woke up in the void without and it was completely dark but i wasn’t scared n shit it was really REALLY fucking peaceful and i just kinda stayed there. I always thought that darkness was apart of the dream i was supposed to have but once i realized THAT was the void……..🤦🏾♀️. Now i went through a wee lil phase of looking for methods n trying them out n them not resonating with me at all. I was stressing myself out BUT I KNEW that the void was easy because I’ve literally been there tons of times. Doubts were eating me alive and really fucking with my confidence and making doubt if I’ve even actually entered the void(we literally enter the void every time we sleep so basically we always are in the void). After like 3-4 weeks of me repeating the same cycle of believing i can enter, not entering and repeating the same old story over n over again. I had enough and started to slowly pull away from obsessing over the void and I focused onward what i wanted. The entire point of me even entering was so that i could manifest ALL my desires at once. I decided to find something that I personally liked and believed i could succeed with. I like sleep methods the best because they’re the most relaxing for me. I like Sats/ Lullaby method but i every time i would try it i would think “ oh it didn’t work because i didn’t affirm long enough lemme try again” so i was secretly fucking myself up because i had made up this assumption if i didn’t affirm long enough I wouldn’t get in. There was one “method” that i likes the best and it was commanding/ ordering your subconscious to take you to the void. I decided to test it out to see if you can really manifest anything just by commanding your subconscious and GIRLLL….. it works. One sunday afternoon i was heavily dreading going to school and just was NOT feeling it, so i decided to test my subconscious and see if it could cancel school for me or just get me not to go without begging my parents or faking sick. I went “ Hey subconscious, im not feeling school tomorrow, cancel it for me” and after that i forgot about it. Later that night my school posts on instagram that someone threatened to BOMB OUR SCHOOL and tons of kids were protesting they cancel (being the piece of shit trashy stank ass school they are they didn’t cancel). All my friends were protesting not going cuz im not tryna get Bombed frl. I called my mom about it and she told me I didn’t have to go to school if i didn’t want to. Then I remembered what i told my subconscious and i went “ DAMNN subconscious i know i said i didn’t wanna go but BOMB THREATS??”( i don’t think I manifested the bomb threats because as much as i dread that place i would never even try doing that) that was the test that proved to me that subconscious really will do anything you tell it….insane. BACK TO LAST NIGHT ( i got distracted Srry) i commanded my subconscious before going to sleep to wake me up in the void but because of my loud ass african mother i couldn’t sleep so i waited until i felt tired and fell asleep. When i woke up i was still in my bedroom and i had thought i didn’t get in but then i tried remember if i dreamed last night and i didn’t remember having one. Actually i remember just being in complete darkness for a while then the rest is blurry. Then it hit me. I ENTEREDD. I know i had entered because it was the same feeling i got when i was 10 and entered. Anyways now i know how to enter and what works for me so STAY TUNED FOR A SUCCESS STORRYYY!!!( ill get into full detail and give some advice)
💕💕Bye my lovess!! 💕💕
453 notes
·
View notes
Text
this is how you fall in love; hhj
word count: 986
a one shot inspired by the song "this is how you fall in love" by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler bc its so soft and bestfriend hyunjin concept eats it up (in my humble opinion)
~
“How do people do it?”
“What do you mean?”
Hyunjin focused in on your softly perplexed expression, a chuckle falling from his lips at the sight of your stare fixated onto the long awaited kiss being shared by the leading characters.
The entertainment he found in your distracted state soon craved your attention, waving his hand in front of your face just as the rolling credits came in.
Faintly smiling at the blank screen, you turned to look at your best friend who displayed confusion and concern in his expression.
“I was just wondering how people do it?”
Hyunjin moved his body closer, head leaning in as if to motion for you to continue your thought.
“Fall in love I mean.”
In an instant, you fell towards the back of the couch, the pillow that was once on Hyunjin lap now falling onto yours.
“Hwang Hyunjin, what the actual fuc-”
“Y/n its a fucking movie! They are acting sweetheart and you really made me miss the last scene!”
Letting out a sharp breath, you stuck your tongue out and slightly nudged the side of his stomach with your elbow, causing him to flinch away with a giggle.
“I’m not talking about the movie stupid. I just mean in general, it’s a genuine question, the movie just prompted my thoughts.”
You moved towards Hyunjin, closing the minimal space between the two of you, settling closely beside him as you readily waited for his response. Tilting his head, he lifted his fingers to fix the hair on the top of your head that had been messily misplaced by his pillow throwing. The both of you paused before bursting out into giggles.
It’s not like you were completely oblivious to the many answers that existed for your question.
Some say, people fall in love with what makes up a person: how they laugh, what makes them cry, how they like their coffee, etc. Some say falling in love requires the essence of time and self discovery. Some say falling in love is like jumping off a cliff, only hoping that you’ll land safely in their arms. And some say, falling in love is nothing but a series of chemical reactions occurring in the brain.
Nonetheless, everyone arrives at an answer sooner or later in their life. So, it’s always good to talk to people, gain their perspective on the little things in life, like love.
And Hyunjin was the one person whom you turned to when it came to talking about those little things. You raised your finger towards Hyunjin's cheek, softly poking it as he kept his eyes on you, lips in a tight line while he remained silent.
“I guess you don’t have an answer yet either.”
His shoulders lifted as he gave you a shrug while he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Music began to fill the air as the beat resonated in your mind. Your body began to respond, standing up as you pulled off the most ridiculous of moves that were a stark contrast to the song playing.
Hyunjin brought his hand over his mouth, stifling giggles at your unrhythmic dancing that seemed to always be one second behind the beat of the song. The sight of his crinkled eyes only encouraged your tasteful movements. Before you were able to continue your shenaniganz, the music had suddenly come to a stop.
You sent a glare towards him while he held his stomach from laughter obviously putting a pause to the music. Before you could protest, a soft melody eased your frown. You glanced at Hyunjin, immediately catching his eyes. A breath hitched in your throat the longer you stared. For the look reflected in his orbs was soft and endearing.
With a small smile, Hyunjin stood from the couch and made his way towards you, body slowly swaying left to right. You mirrored his movements, closing your eyes as you let the tune take hold of your body as the lyrics fill your mind. Just as the chorus had started, you found yourself opening your eyes in response to the sudden warmth placed on both sides of your face.
Hyunjin's face was only a few inches from your own, but the both of you remained still, bodies lingering in the short distance. You said nothing as his hands fell from your face, to your shoulders, and soon down your arms. The comfort of his fingers provided heat to your still state.
His hands landed into your own, fingers playing with each other as he raised your hands towards his shoulders, putting them in place. The eye contact between the two of you brought heat to your cheeks and emphasized the pounding in your chest.
Your chest slowly raised as he placed his hands on your waist, his fingers moulding into your skin and softly pulling your body towards his.
“Close your eyes.”
You pursed your lips as he flashed you a small smile, closing his eyes, only leading you to follow his request. He leaned forward, setting his forehead on yours. His soft breathing fawning over your skin, a type of warmth you quickly grew fond of.
The urge to never let him go grew with the intimacy flowing between the both of you, bodies intertwined as your feelings ached to do the same. Your bodies swayed side to side, falling into the soft melody, falling into him. As if he were holding you up, ready to catch you.
“I think this is how you do it Y/n.”
The light met your eyes before you settled on his face. His soft and kind and endearing face.
“What do you mean?”
His eyes. Those deep brown eyes. They always calmed you down. Holding a sense of passion as they traced your features, delicately framing you in his mind.
“This is how you fall in love.”
#skz imagine#skz#hwang hyunjin#hwang hyujin imagines#hyunjin x reader#skz x you#skz fanfiction#soft hours#softhyunjin#straykids#lee know x reader#bangchan x reader#lee know#bang chan#skz scenarios#skz imagines
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
જ⁀➴ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋 . . . (𝐆. 𝐑.)
— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.
+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3
“oh mate, you’re joking.”
“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”
he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.
this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares.
“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”
"but i haven't?"
"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."
george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.
"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"
alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.
"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."
though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.
"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."
george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.
unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.
the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.
was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?
when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.
ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.
now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.
the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.
some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.
the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.
"y/n, hi!"
pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.
"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."
you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.
"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."
george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.
"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."
brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.
you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.
nothing was off limits anymore.
yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.
an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.
in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.
your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.
your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.
guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.
before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.
feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.
besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.
george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.
"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.
"you fucking dick."
#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles#𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special#george russell#george russell x reader#george russell x you#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 x you#formula one x you
220 notes
·
View notes
Note
S H R I E K S okay I started FFXIV suuuper recently (Oct. 2023), currently up to the lvl84 EW quests. I hated Zenos so fucking much. His dynamic with WoL is fascinating to analyze, but every time he showed up I wanted to break his nose and then make him wash his greasy-ass hair.
And then I found your Zenos/WoL comics and went from 😬 to 🤔 to 👀 so damn fast I got whiplash, like. Hoooooooo boy I'm in trouble now thank you for the new hyperfixation I will now gladly die here <3
hahaha thanks! glad you enjoy the comics!
i didn't warm to zenos at first - the apathetic super powerful murderer seemed like a flat trope. it wasn't until the tail end of SB when he became properly obsessed with the wol that i started to find him interesting. 'bite down on my jugular'? insanity. contrast that with just how bored he is with every other aspect of life and you realise this is a man that's just been completely hollowed out whether by birth or design, and has finally found something to fill the hole with. and yet - yet - the void still beckons, and living is still a chore. as it so happens that juxtaposition resonates very well with my wol, so chemistry sparks...!
i'm only a little way into EW - actually exactly about where you are - and the few times zenos has shown up were hilarious. trying a whole roomful of weapons to find the one he'll fight and kill his reluctant bestie with? peak comedy. peak tragedy too. everyone tells me he's got a great role in this one, so i can't wait. good to have you on the zenos train as well!
125 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m a sex-repulsed ace, and reading the latest chapter of 666 (as well as your analysis here on Tumblr) made me realize that I have been subconsciously thinking about MY OWN sexuality from an allo perspective? And that it has kinda been messing me up?? Like, ever since I learned that sexual attraction was actually a Thing and that it’s Important To People, I had been carrying around a fear of being deficient in some way and not being able to love to the same extent as allos. (1)
Even though I know logically that’s complete garbage and totally untrue, I felt left out of the loop because people seemed to care strongly about this thing I couldn’t even imagine. Whenever it looked like a relationship might happen I panicked for a reason that I couldn’t understand. But now I’m starting to realize that it’s because I was subconsciously terrified of an ‘ulterior motive’ behind the other person’s reasons for wanting to be with me. (2)
That part of the reason they even cared was because of something I don’t experience. So thank you, because this realization just clicked into place while reading your work. The thing is, this way of thinking was just internalized in such a way that I didn’t even realize it was there until literally this week. And I think you’re right; one of the main reasons behind that is because I’ve always consumed media written from an allo perspective. (3)
If ace/aros are shown at all, they’re depicted as “lacking” and their character development usually revolves around being “fixed” by the story. When I was ~10 years old my mom sometimes let me watch the Big Bang Theory with her (looking back, maybe not the best decision). Anyways, there was one episode deep into the series where Sheldon (who for the past nineish seasons was probably the closest thing to mainstream ace rep) has sex with his girlfriend for the first time. (4)
Afterwards, he says something along the lines of “that was better than I thought it would be”, and it’s presented as a Very Good Thing and a big step in their relationship. I think a lifetime of stuff like that makes it very easy to internalize aphobia and feel like the lesser part of the relationship. Or to feel like the other partner is making a huge sacrifice to be with you. That got wayy too long, sorry. All that was just a lot of words to say that I appreciate you. Take care of yourself!(5)
The portrayal of asexuality that you see in media being almost exclusively as you described is very tedious to me because it presumes that something is inherently lacking in aro/aceness rather than that feeling of "lacking" being something that is induced by societal norms. Actually, one of the things that I find additionally alienating is that fandom spaces specifically have been getting better and better about ace characters - but got damn does fandom not jive with aromanticism. Like, a character doesn't want to fuck? That's becoming a liiiittle more fine, it's 2024, we stan consent. But not shipping someone romantically?? Not so easy, now.
I'm glad that my work has been something that resonated with you in this respect! Alastor cares a lot about his reputation as a demon but is pretty blatantly a person who could not possibly give less of a shit about being "wrong" for not being experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. The explanation Viv gave at one point for his own understanding of himself (that he thinks he's just "waiting for the right woman") actually stuck out to me a lot because it's a very "well, nothing is wrong with me for not feeling anything, it's the world that's failed to produce a suitable person" perspective.
But having that kind of confident perspective of your own rightness in the world is really not often portrayed in media, or even in fandom, which even ten years ago was still in the throes of standardizing "Oh, no! Me, gay? These feelings are so wrong!" style m/m content and is honestly not that far off from essentially that for aro/ace characters.
Anyway, all of that is to say that there's not yet much out there that doesn't frame allo/amatonormative values as the default that "even aro/ace people can (and should want to) achieve," and that it's really fun to write a fic that is unequivocally from the perspective of a character who is aroace and doesn't see it as even remotely a fault in himself. Does he have moments where he's a little confused and trying to process how things fit for him? Absolutely. But he just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who thinks he owes romance to Vox of all people, hahaha. I've written him trying to conform to allo/amatonormativity more with Mimzy, because I think the social standards of their time could push him into it, but Vox? Absolutely not, he does not respect Vox enough for it to even enter his mind.
And then, on the other hand, writing it from an aroace perspective centers the way that romantic and sexual interest can feel like a betrayal of a good thing. With a character like Alastor, it frames romantic and sexual attraction the same alien way that we usually see aromanticism and asexuality framed as.
In the end, this is just one of a plethora of different experiences that aro/ace people can have, but it's one that I really wanted to see represented more, so I'm very happy to write it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!
#ask#personal#Anonymous#long post#t#aroace#ace#he cares about Vox at this point!#but that's. not really the same as respecting him.#anyway this next chapter is important to me because it's very#how do I put this#“this was okay at the moment but that doesn't mean he's okay with it overall and forever”#“and it does not mean that they've 'progressed' their relationship to the point where Alastor being aroace is a 'nonissue'”#“(feat. ofc the heavy implication that it was an issue in the first place)”#ANYWAY. SOMETIMES I HAVE A HARD TIME EXPRESSING THIS IN NON-FIC WORDS#SO HOPEFULLY THE FIC AS IT CONTINUES SPEAKS FOR ME. I AM GLAD THAT IT HAS SPOKEN TO YOU SO FAR <3 THANK YOU!!#sexuality#my writing#hazbin hotel#this is a hot button topic atm and it took me a minute to write a reply#that didn't seem like it invited discourse lmfao#actually I still feel weird posting my opinion this strongly oops OH WELL
73 notes
·
View notes
Note
I've been feeling kinda down lately, but can I request some headcanons for Cg!Hobie with spiderman!regressor!minor!reader who's trying to get into punk culture but feels like they're copying him? im sorry if im way too specific :c
(can I be 🕸️anon, please?)
Of course 🕸️that's not too specific at all! I'm sorry it's taken me a minute to get to, but I hope you're feeling a little bit better :) And I hope this is okay!!
Given that he's Spider-Punk, he'd have immaculate music taste and once he gets to know you, shares it with you too! It's something you bond over, even if you're not exactly into the subculture just yet.
He casually recommends you some bands like the Bad Brains, or The Muslims, just because it's stuff he thinks you'd be interested in. You give 'em a listen and after just general interest, you find yourself falling deeper into the culture as a whole. It's not just about the music of course, so you delve a little deeper into what it actually is.
Once you do though, your kind of unsure of what it means to you. How to really immerse in it. So much of it resonates with you and you want your own perception of it, but you're not quite sure where to start. That doesn't mean you don't have a good example though! Hobie's a ton of inspiration.
I can imagine that when he finds out, he's nothing but supportive. Like, he gets genuinely excited, eyes lit up and everything. He has someone who's into the same thing he is? Hell, yeah he'd be into it. "Wait, really? Thas' amazin'! No, really. You think I'd lie to ya? Pfft no chance mate. I'm just excited we got somethin' in common!"
He'll try to hang out with you more often now that he knows you're both into the same thing! Not only is it something you can both talk about, but it brings you closer.
He doesn't mind at all if you take inspiration from him or "copy" him. He knows it's not the easiest to figure your way out with this sort of thing. He wants you to have your own thing, but he's cool with it either way. Even giving you some advice and especially helping you out whenever you need it.
Brings you to his shows and even teaches you how to play if you're interested! (Or if you play a different instrument, you play together) If music's something you bond over that is. If not, he finds other ways to share it with you/get into it.
Fuck societal and gender norms, you two do whatever you want. The more people who're just utterly confused, the better because hey, it's not their life!
And fuck capitalism too, in every way. You pirate, help out those who need it whenever you can regardless of their "status," and just do/be whatever you want. That's the whole point of it anyway, and Hobie couldn't be happier to do it with you.
And really, you both are like two peas in a pod. Different yeah, but always there for each other. You're friends! And being a part of the same subculture only brings you closer together. Even if you weren't, you'd still be close, but it's just nice to have that. Plus, Hobie's got someone else to relate to and he wouldn't trade that for anything 🖤
#request answered!#my writing#my headcanons#spiderverse agere#across the spiderverse#hobie brown headcanons#Caregiver!Hobie Brown#caregiver!Spider Punk#Spiderverse headcanons#atsv agere#fandom agere#lilyyyyrambles#willowws rambles#sfw agere
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
"The Regime" (starring Kate Winslet and Matthias Schoenaerts) Episode 2 Review
So last week I gave my review of this first episode of this.... rather perplexing show. And this week, mostly out of morbid curiosity, I tried out episode 2 and thought I'd share my impressions of it.
Once again, let's start with the good:
Matthias Schoenaerts (aka, Booker from The Old Guard) is acting his face off in this. So is Kate Winslet.
That said, they are acting their faces off in completely different shows.
But it kinda works?
Hold on, wait a minute, let me start again, because like this show, I'm immediately completely muddled by how I feel about all this or what the fuck is going on.
Let me put it this way. I thought I was signing up for a sort of "Death of Stalin" political satire, with fictionalized object lessons that clearly applied as cautionary tales to modern political issues like Trump, or Putin, or the Royal Family or whatever, using a heaping side helping of comedy.
That's not quite what we got. And I think the people who signed up for that are going to be... at least a little disappointed. The comedy is absurdist and definitely relies on the cringiness of the big personalities involved. But for me, at least, there wasn't quite enough comedy to say this is, well, a comedy.
If you have historical familiarity with various historical regimes and dictators, you'll definitely get a "Where's Waldo" of traits and idiosyncrasies of various dictators all blended together into Kate Winslet's character as she portrays this fictionalized regime head. You'll get your standard cast of various Political Advisors all tutting over her actions and which way this fictional country should go.
But since it is fictional (it seems based heavily on Moldova as of this episode?) a lot of the political clout, to me, didn't exactly land because again, it's not based on real events so I really don't know where any of this is going or which decisions are actually good or bad in the long run.
And if the show was just going to be about that, I definitely would have quit out of it by now, pending good reviews of the finale somehow pulling everything together.
But now for the really unexpected bit.
Because if you signed up for a dark romance between an absurd, psychologically irregular, frankly bizarre would-be dictator who has the occasional moment of pathos, as played by the stunning and talented Kate Winslet, and her psychosexual relationship with her violently masculine, brooding, and supremely fucked-up self-appointed guard dog with the occasional moment of pathos, as played with dark and terrifying intensity by Matthias Schoenaerts, holy fuck do I think you're about to have the time of your life.
Like, I think the show wants to resonate with Veep audiences who are here for a cringey absurd political comedy, but I think the people who are actually going to be absolutely frothing-at-the-mouth obsessed with this show are like... your Reylo shipping Dark Fucked Up Romance people and Tumblr fandom in general who would really enjoy Villain/Sidekick or Villain/Bodyguard romances as seen when this Possibly Evil Dictator and her Possibly Evil Guard Dog/Advisor are being completely obsessed with each other, all with a rather small side of absurdist comedy as things continue to spiral and get gradually more fucked up.
Now, this is just my review as of 1.02. I have no idea if that's where this show is going because the problem I have with this episode is kinda just a slightly lesser version of the problem I had with 1.01, which could be a matter of taste, in that I really have no fucking clue what this show is going for or what it's trying to accomplish. It's not really laugh out loud funny. It hasn't really said anything political yet. We can't really tell yet what cautionary tales we're supposed to take away, if any?
But in the meantime, there's Winslet and Schoenaerts performing in completely different genres being darkly obsessed with each other and, y'know what, I might stick around just for the slow-motion-trainwreck fascination with whatever the fuck they've got going on.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Theory of Love Rewatch Ep 8 Stray Thoughts
Last time, Khai began his bisexual awakening, and I gave the show points for handling the interior experience of that with a lot of honesty. I appreciate that no one is on Khai's side about going after Third, let alone Third. I like that Two especially doesn't want Khai messing with Third. I am glad that Third has been moving on with his life, and I like how now that we're outside of his head Third seems kind of aloof. I like that Khai's reputation is working against him as he tries to be serious about Third. Meanwhile, Bone is working on a big project with Paan and making eyes at her. We left at Khai being cast in Third's play as the jerk lead.
Ep.08 The Proposal
Third is actually so mean and I love it.
I also like that Third is annoyed by Khai hovering over him lately.
Khai tried to fuck with Un and Un said, "Pot-kettle-black, bitch."
LOL, even Shane is on team Let Third Be Into Someone Else.
It's kinda funny how most of this gang has no skill when it comes to people they actually like.
Okay, this car scene with every radio station playing some kind of sad song about heartbreak was funny.
They're getting some good resonance with Lynn. Her boyfriend got tired of her and she's wondering if she should change. Khai is also struggling with who he should be for Third.
I think White may have actually been in a fight before. His reactions to ministrations feel correct.
LOL. Bone said Un is way better than you, Khai. Get wrecked.
Un said, "What do you know of Third? Aren't you his best friend? Answer, quickly!!"
I feel no sympathy for Khai at all. He always tossed Third at girls he was done with and used him as a shield. He deserves no regard from Third after all the shit he pulled. He can't even handle girls he flirted with being annoyed with him.
Taking a nap while waiting for the file to export is so real.
Yes, Two, get that shot in at Khai for always dumping Third for girls.
I really like Gun's gait. He doesn't often adjust it for his characters.
I struggle to feel for Khai's heartache here, because he's hurt more people than just Third.
I'm so sick of this orange balcony as the transition shot.
Who are you jealous of here, Two?
Wow, is Khai going to actually tell Third he's quitting? That's better than his usual avoidance tactics.
So, Khai, you're saying you want to...Make It Right? You don't do that by kissing a sleeping person, especially one you've wronged.
Finally, Third gets mad. I've needed him to get mad. I needed him to go to the window, stick his head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell! And I'm not going to take this anymore!"
Good thing he wore that helmet!
Yes, montage of all the things Khai did to Third. I'm glad you're finally recognizing your shit even if you think this is the end.
In the words of Susan Ivanova, "All love is unrequited." I'm actually enjoying this part of the show a lot. Khai is so bad at this and can't stand that Third is inaccessible to him now. You don't know what you got till it's gone, and I am not feeling sympathy for this man child. I like that his bros give him shit constantly and never let up until he starts to break. Khai created the world around him with his callousness, and I'm enjoying seeing him grate against the other side of it. Ending on him sliding across pavement and getting torn up is an excellent choice, because our bodies are so fragile. It's good to illustrate how he thought he was immune to all of that on his beloved Charlie and all the ways he projected onto that only to see him dashed across the road as he thinks about his friend he never realized how much he loved until that friend cut him off.
As always, this rewatch is sponsored by @lurkingshan, with support from @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm. Also tagging @twig-tea by request.
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
moar you say.. why then gregor and rodya of coarse....
where would i be without rodigor. where would WE be, without rodigor.
first impression: THE fuckin guy. this dude owns. (insert 50 invasive questions about cockroach anatomy and behavior) i was peeved his roach arm resembled more of a beetle horn than a arm
current impression: when chef greg dropped i got so horny i went to bed lightheaded i still love gregor dearly but my love for him has mellowed like the fondness for a favorite pasta dish.
favorite moment: literally every old fart moment he has. when he forgets names when he berated sinclair for not cleaning his plate when he goes uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in his dialogue because he doesnt know where hes going with this
story idea: despite his deep frying and boiling during hells chicken i think the bus kinda Likes this guy. gregors a bit of a hot commodity. hes just a fella you can Jive with. a real Stand Up guy. now let him be loved, if obliviously through his own self consciousness. a friendly heathcliff rough slap on the back delays his depressive episode by 15 minutes
fav relationship: oh boy where to start!!!! rodigor. enough on that. meurgreg, not really romantic to me but i like the art of it that is. it revolves around a big fella carrying him under his arm so automatic slay. ive seen a little gregcliff action on the TL but its more of a 'work got me friends with people twice my age like whats uncle greg up to' ordeal to me. now lets get insane. gregsang is incredible to me because yi sang is the only mf on that bus EASIER than gregor. gregor got game? that hes aware of? while stuttering the whole journey? its kind of crazy. i dont actually have a reason why they would even like eachother yet but put rodya in there somewhere to toy with them if you want true crackshipping fun
fav headcanon: hes a little chunky
RODYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favit
first impression: me furiously searching for her height on the wiki + nodding my head sagely deciding woman with sleepy eyes is peak character design (faust included). i trust her wholeheartedly even if she leads me hand in hand into a woodchipper
current impression: waiting for projmoon to drop more lore on her desperately because i know canto 2 wasnt everything. i feel a disconnect with the fanbase about her because i see rodya characterized sooooo differently than how i think of her. the gambling thing and her effortless confidence for example isnt really questioned like how it is with dons bravado. i see her gambling as an outlet for her complicated views on money. she feels as though being financially 'secure' as the lone survivor as a betrayal to all the deaths she caused. gambling not only aligns with her current im the hottest shit attitude but also is a way for her to not be responsible for money. the hoarding of wealth is what caused her community to starve, why would she want to do something that seems to harm others? shes very self destructive, and feigning as slots star is just one of the ways she forces herself to 'stay in the cold'. ummmmmmmmm anyway im really normal about rodya and think about her a normal amount also her love for decadant food really resonates with me as someone who was poor in childhood because the difference between eating to live and living to eat is Astronomical
favorite moment: shes started branching out and calling other people than greg pet names and it is so exciting. faust has now reached babe status!! good for her!!! also when she infantalizes sinclair its terrible for him but REALLY funny for me when he responds back and reminds her oh right this is a 22 year old man. also her random interjections that are socialist ideology are really funny because they always feel so fucking random and like projmoon is remembering why crime and punishment was written and going drop this bomb ass line itll go so hard guys
story idea: i want her to play poker against yi sang because hes weird and also his poker face is like. genuine and dear adoration for being able to play with his companions because deep in his soul is gardens and butterflies. she would be so freaked out not only because this guy agreed to playing poker but also because he is invasively (he didnt mean it) staring into her SOUL to find solutions
fav relationship: my thoughts are half the bus are in love with gregor and the other half with rodya with cases of overlap. rodya is so epic because shes seemingly got it together to the more deranged sinners but to anyone else its like oh my god this paper mache bitch the former being more faustish the latter being more ryoshuish. faustya is cute because faust initially wanted to absorb more Bad Bitch Strategems and then kinda got a crush and is hardcore malfunctioning also kurokumo ryodion got sumn GOING yall crazy love is love though
fav headcanon: shes actually really short for Lobotomy Corp Backstreets Russia and everyone there is just freakishly tall (see: sonya)
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE MARVELS WAS AWESOME I HAVE GONE INSANE
Spoilers under the cut. Warning, this post ran away with me.
First off, obviously, this movie is a strong woman-led cast with men in supporting roles. I feel like, in order to move a society, you both need to make an active point about representation - which Captain Marvel did - but also need to start making a passive point about representation - which The Marvels did.
Because in a truly equal world, we'd see a thorough mix of movies, and it wouldn't occur to us that some movies had more men or more women or more white people or more latinos or more straight people or more gay people. Equal representation means that sort of thinking disappears. (As an example... do you have a sense of blue eye vs. green eye representation? Without oppression, it's just not a thought that occurs.)
So in a way, I felt like The Marvels was showing us what the world could be? Women as the focus, but that's not inherently noteworthy. Women of color as leads, but that's not inherently noteworthy. To see full diversity across movies and have that not be noteworthy. No single movie can give us everything - but The Marvels moved us in the right direction, and I want that momentum to keep going.
And gosh, the balance of the movie was incredible. The humor, the depth. I love how they wove something complex with Carol - that she had tried to do a good thing, caused genuine harm, and she didn't try to hold an entire people accountable. She took accountability and tried to fix it the best she could.
I also loved seeing her grow a little out of her stoicism. Brie Larson plays stoic very well, and she had a fuckton of emotional baggage in her history. This movie sees a slightly lighter side of her - she's had a little bit of distance from those harms. She's still working through that pain. But she is clearly on the road to healing. But healing is complicated (see above).
I absolutely love Monica. She's tough and clever and so stupidly curious. I've never gotten magic powers from my curiosity, but I have blown up a wall before, so I couldn't help but laugh when she reached out to touch the broken portal point because that resonated so much. I can't wait to see what adventures she ends up in in the other universe.
(Not gonna lie, I feel like there might be some queer vibes between her and Carol. I don't know if that will develop further... but if it does, god I hope they don't waste it.)
I need to see Ms. Marvel now, obviously. I actually intended to watch it this week, but life got away from me. Kamala is such a great character - Iman Vellani nails infectious excitement, and some of her family dynamics resonated strongly with my own. I don't usually watch stuff set for high school aged kids, but I gotta make an exception here.
I loved that the villain had some complexity (Zawe Ashton's performance blew me away), and that her people were ultimately helped in the end. The world is a complicated, messy place. But you can't hold an entire people accountable for the crimes of a few, and you have to understand how people get where they are (Dar-Benn wasn't a flat born-evil villain), and you have to try to help where you can even if the world is messy and you may make mistakes. (Granted, for most of us, helping means protesting or donating money or whatever, rather than reigniting a sun. But the less glamorous things are no less meaningful.)
And man, they just nailed the balance of the depth with the humor. I lost my fucking mind on the musical planet, and was laugh-crying when Memory started playing. All the little things like Fury's relief that Carol slammed into the ground just caught me off guard. Watching the initial chaos of their quantum entanglement and the ensuing montage was great. 10/10 experience overall.
Finally, gosh, the little Cessna at the end had me so nostalgic. My initial flight training and first solo were in a very similar aircraft, a Cessna 152. It looks like N5017B might've formerly been assigned to a similar aircraft, a Cessna F150L. (That tail number is now assigned to a Beechcraft.)
Let me tell you, cramming into a small plane like that on a hot Los Angeles day isn't always a pleasant experience, but it is a magical one.
(Carol, if you're reading this, you should know better than to leave a plane tied down for long! The poor baby needs flight time and regular maintenance!)
tl;dr - Go watch The Marvels.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Chapter (#33) online - Secret Dating Era - On AO3
Sneak Peak:
Tim is able to meet Lucy in the break room the next day. He is just about to get his coffee refill before he has to finish his paperwork and have to attend in meeting with Gray, which definitely requires some extra caffeine. By some miracle they both happen to be at the station at the same time and even had the same idea. And she's alone. Perfect.
She's standing at the coffee machine and doesn't even react when he enters, which is weird. Maybe she needs a new lesson about situational awareness. She doesn't even seem to hear him. For whatever reason. The only thing he sees is how she is swaying her hips slightly as if she were dancing to some inaudible music only she can hear. When she starts singing softly to herself, he knows what's going on. She has earphones in her ears and is probably listening to some pop song he can’t even recognize. That's why she didn't hear him say "Hey".
This gives him a perfect opportunity for some Tim Test and take revenge for yesterday, so he sneaks up on her from behind while he briefly checks through the window to see if anyone is nearby. The hallway seems to be empty though. He could do something real dirty now. But they're in the break room at the station, so his options are limited. She's still standing in front of the machine, apparently waiting for her coffee to finish brewing. Which will take a while, as the cup is only half full.
He stands behind her, slightly off to the left, and checks again to make sure no one is coming. Still no one in sight, so he taps her on the right shoulder. She jumps a little and makes a startled noise looking to her right, but of course, she can’t see him as he is standing on her left side. Ahh, the invisible shoulder tap prank never gets old and works almost every time. He moves with her behind her back mirroring her movement, still unnoticed by her. And then he simply can't resist the temptation. He grabs her ass giving it a quick squeeze. Because payback is sweet. And she definitely deserves payback for yesterday. He made sure that she hasn't picked up her coffee cup yet though. That would have been disastrous, as she likely would have spilled the scorching hot coffee on her. And he's not an asshole after all, he doesn’t want to actually hurt her.
It's just that Lucy doesn't quite react as he expected. No, she responds in a completely different way, but deep down, he's actually quite pleased with her reaction. After all, how was she supposed to know it was him? And it's reassuring to see that she reacts like that when someone touches her without her permission.
But still, HE could have done without her violent reaction. Because Lucy turns around instantly, and before he can say anything, she slaps him in the face with real force. One that really resonates. It hurts like hell.
He can't stop the slightly high-pitched "Ouch" escaping him. Nor can he stop himself from making a face and immediately putting a hand on the spot.
He sees her eyes widen in surprise as she recognizes him "Oh shit Tim ... fuck ... I didn't know it was you." She all but yells, because she still has the earphones in her ears still listening to some music.
#chenford#lucy chen#the rookie#tim bradford#tim bradford x lucy chen#tim x lucy#archive of our own#chenford fanfic#chenford fic#chenfordsource#lucy x tim#lucy and tim#ao3 link#ao3 fanfic
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
All Of My Days
Tsukishima Kei has been your archnemesis for 4 years, 7 months, and counting, so to say the least you're very confused by the current situation.
All you know is that you feel carpet against your back and aforementioned arch-nemesis hovering inches above you. The distance (or lack thereof) isn't exactly stimulating your cognitive functions.
Vaguely you're aware of some kind of commotion from above, but all you can see right now are Tsukishima's wide, golden irises. They're — you'd never noticed — beautiful... and glinting, so something brutal is about to come out of their partner in crime, Tsukishima's mouth.
"What the hell are you staring at, you brainless fucking worm," it hisses, "move!"
That's the Tsukishima you know, alright. You somehow manage to flip yourself over — a difficult task — and using your arms to propel yourself forward, inch out of the confined space. The minute you scramble up, the world rushes around you frantically.
There's suddenly a crowd around you, poking, prodding, checking if you're okay, there's a boy coming up to you, apologizing so profusely, there's a — crash.
A resonant silence follows. You look down. Tsukishima Kei, pale and sweating profusely, is on the ground, pinned under a tall heavy duty ladder.
Around you, suddenly again, people start moving again — maneuvering the ladder, pulling your body away, lifting his body onto a waiting stretcher. Stretcher? Ladder? You're so confused, you don't even know what questions to ask, and the room empties before you find someone to explain.
You should follow them. But before that, you bend and scoop up your enemy's glasses.
&
You have been Tsukishima Kei's archnemesis for 4 years, 7 months, and counting, so to say the least he's very confused by his current situation.
He was in the library, stealing hateful glances at you while you perused the fiction section. Somehow Tsukishima just knew you were going to find the book he'd stashed away for later, since his card had already checked out the maximum number of books.
He was so engrossed in his irritation that it was almost too late when he suddenly noticed the ladder a few meters away from you wobbling, the man perched on top quickly scrambling as it started to fall. You, of course, were oblivious. What an idiot you were, unaware of the world around you when your nose was stuck in a book.
What an idiot he was, unaware of what he was doing as he sprinted towards you, tackling you to the ground.
And now but he's trapped in this white room, filled with the smell of antiseptic, which he hates. Bandages are wrapped around his arms, pasted on his chest, his back. And everywhere hurts.
The world is blurry when he opens his eyes.
"Hey."
A voice he is all too familiar with rings out from his right. You've located Tsukishima's blind spot; he can't turn to see you. How appropriate of you. He sighs.
"I know, I know," the voice gets closer, and slowly you appear in his field of vision. "It's me. I — just — here, your glasses."
You hold them out to him. He looks away from you. "I can't move my arms."
"Okay." Instead of setting the glasses down on the table, you come up to Tsukishima and gently slide the glasses onto his face. He sees now, in high definition, that you are way too close. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah ...thanks."
"Yeah. No, actually, thank you. For, you know, saving my life."
"No problem."
Being civil is a weird ground that neither you nor him have taken the time to explore, and it's uncomfortable. You can tell he wants you out of this room just as badly as you want to get out, but there's a question burning a hole in your throat.
"Can I ask..."
"What?"
"Why? Why save my life?"
"How funny, I'm asking myself the same question right now." At your eye roll, he adds, "this is a one-time thing. Don't get used to it."
"I really am grateful," you say.
"Okay."
The door opens and Akiteru walks in. You excuse yourself with a bow for his older brother. "I'll be back."
"No," Tsukishima groans.
Yes, a traitorous voice is singing.
#clearing drafts#lolz#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello! I wrote a Käärijä fanfic.
Content warning for self-doubt, swearing and sad thoughts that can ruin your memories of Kaivohuone gig. Don't like = don't read!
-
One last time
Summary: Käärijä misses the way his gigs looked before he became famous and after a bunch of sad thoughts decides to perform Cha Cha Cha in the crowd at Kaivohuone.
First person POV, 713 words, choppy style. Very sad! Proceed only if you like sad writing!!! Mostly inner monologue but there is some plot there too, I swear!
-
Shivers.
This crowd goes crazy. Excitement, joy, satisfaction, all these kinds of feelings pouring out of them. And rightfully so - this was one of the best gigs this summer, if not the best one.
The crew did a fantastic job. The vibe landed just right. The audience, welcoming and magnifying everything they received, giving it back to further power up the performance.
Both sides of the barrier resonating until it all started vibrating, shaking, quaking, inevitably leading to a disaster.
Break it down and be free.
The fans are having the time of their lives. They got everything they wished for and more. Surely they will remember this night forever. Sweat, spit, tears, screams. Photos, livestreams, gifts, memories. The whole club is completely filled with cheering and ecstatic shouts. And yet, even in this tightly packed atmosphere of celebration and fulfillment, something is jarringly missing.
Weirdly enough, it used to feel so much more complete and satisfying before this craze started. Back when there was only the front row at the gigs. Back when it was still possible to jump into the crowd and go wild, constantly in direct contact with the audience, almost tangibly feeling the energy flowing into the people and returning back in a feast of show and applause, performance and appreciation.
This was the norm before. Then this whole circus started, filling every waking second with duties, forcing the awareness to lag a few months behind. Only now it becomes obvious that this is all long gone. Now there is only security and bodyguards and barricades and limits.
The feel of longing to bring this back invites a thought to come to the surface. An oddly familiar thought, whose shadow for weeks has accompanied my every attempt at guessing the exact distance between the fence and the stage, but never bold enough to make me actually think it.
This will only get worse. I can no longer deny it. And the thought soon spawns another one: this will never come back.
I did not expect that in order to live my dream and conquer the biggest stages I will have to sacrifice what now might turn out to be my very soul. So damn cruel and wrong that I cannot have both. It's either sold-out venues filled with crowd partying like they never had before, or the ability to experience it alongside them. Impossible to decide, and once I choose one of them, the other is gone. This is bullshit.
Stop. Wait.
Who said I cannot have both?
There is one song left for tonight. Last chance to try and combine the best sides of my current and past life. Right here, right now. Let's do it as it's supposed to be done.
Insane.
Is it selfish? Is it the alcohol? Is it safe? Isn't it my own show after all, damn it?!
I'm doing it. Into the crowd, further, hotter, right in the middle. This is where everything will be fixed. This is where I return to life.
Not even Jesse's frightened face can stop me now. Shit, I hope nothing happens to me. If I die here, he will kill me.
And everything he and the whole crew will tell me afterwards will be absolutely true. This is ridiculous, risky, stupid, outrageous, and I know, and I agree! They will never allow it to happen again, and I will never try to do it again.
Fuck, this really is my last chance. This will never return. Just this one gig and I will have to part with my soul. Only the outer shell will continue into the future, selling music as a product, making money, never feeling complete again.
And if this thing right now doesn't work out, I won't even have anything to remember. Forced to live in the spotlight, smiling and accepting compliments, praised as successfull and fulfilled despite never really reaching the dream.
Is it so?
No, stop, wait, come on!
Stop.
What am I doing? Mourning things that did not happen?
Not a chance. Fuck it, we ball.
The audience is ready to have their minds blown. This is already the best gig of their whole lives.
I can make this the best gig of my own life as well.
Let's go.
-
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
me recordarás - one
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader
Rating: Mature
Word count: 4k
Summary: summer has come to an end. you find yourself thrown into a whirlwind of emotions, difficult choices and more adversity, like you’d never believed possible. someone is there to pull you out of it - but it’s not someone you’d ever imagined.
a/n: god I feel like it’s been so long since I've posted. I'm finally back, somehow, and I'm so excited to share everything with you. I’ve enjoyed coming back into this little universe I've created. I hope you'll like it, and please, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! I’m not ready for this...
SERIES MASTERLIST
Read it on ao3 here
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
A missed period was one thing. It happened to many, without there being a reason for it. Though, a missed period after weeks of unprotected sex with a handsome stranger was giving you an uneasy feeling. After waiting a whole week, you decided that a test was the only thing that could ease your mind.
Even though you didn’t want to believe it at first, the surge of emotions that coursed through your body when the two lines stared back at you from the little stick between your fingers had you convinced.
You were pregnant.
And not by a man you had been seeing for a while, a boyfriend, a husband, no, a man you had a summer fling with, a man you had given your all, a damn womanizer, if his reputation was true. A man who fucked whores for information.
You turned right around on the toilet and fell to your knees, just in time for the contents of your stomach to fall into the toilet. Somehow it was sickening to you. You regretted the whole summer just like that – even though it had been the most amazing weeks of your life.
You hid the test rolled up in some toilet paper, truly not wanting your mother to find it and bug you even more about Javi. You had to figure out what you had to do first, and you already knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
You had literally given him your all. Your first kiss. Your virginity. Your very first I love you. You had opened yourself up to him like you hadn’t ever done with anyone before. Told him secrets that he now was the only other person than you who knew. And now it had all culminated into a situation you’d rather not be in.
You felt betrayed. Especially since he was so hard to get into contact with. You knew it would be a challenge because of his work, but you had expected to talk with him more frequently than once a week for five short minutes. You wanted nothing more than to live out your imagination and expectations, to lie in your bed and talk with him for hours on end, into the early hours of the morning.
“You know how men are. They only want one thing, and that’s to sleep with young, unsuspecting girls like you. He’s no good, and I don’t want you seeing him anymore. He’s going to leave you hanging anyways.”
Your mothers’ words kept resonating in your head. While her words had been a surprise those weeks ago, you were now starting to think that maybe she was right, and that it wasn’t just said in spite to hurt you momentarily. Maybe he was going to leave you hanging, now it was more than a stab to your chest, and it was starting to hurt more than you wanted to admit.
Maybe you should’ve just forgotten him – had an abortion already, so you wouldn’t be stuck with… the little wonderful secret blossoming inside of you, that probably would be the splitting image of their father. You could somehow feel it – that resemblance your baby would have to the tan, beautiful man you’d fallen in love with.
But you were tired. Tired of being let down every time you tried getting in contact with him – you’d gotten Steve on the phone more than once, actually up to ten times, and he told you the same story every time. Javi is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with? I’ll have him call you back when he’s got the time.
His absence brought only one thing. Loneliness.
A feeling somewhat hard to describe… Because loneliness comes in so many different shapes and sizes. Well… Somehow there’s a certain loneliness to every situation there is, and yet nothing feels more all-consuming than the loneliness surrounding you at that exact moment.
Along with the constant twinge in your gut, you had no idea how to keep your emotions in check. Maybe it was just hormones coursing through your body. You just had a feeling there was something more multiplying the emotions.
Leaving your parents’ house after the summer break and going back to your small studio apartment in Center Court was truly an improvement for you – your mother was constantly getting more nosy and was bugging you about Javi. It certainly wasn’t helping your situation, when all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under.
You dreaded going back to uni after the summer break. Mainly because your whole mindset was corrupted by the thought of him and your current situation, and you just knew you had no chance of following the syllabus before it was taken care of. You had to talk to Javi somehow, to tell him about your situation and find out what you were going to do about it.
The best spot in your small apartment was currently your bed – it felt like the safest spot for you to be and scrutinize your situation. It was warm and cozy, and your thick duvet comforted you in ways you couldn’t explain. The comforts of your bed brought along another unforeseen consequence – the nagging of your own thoughts.
The spot on the wall where your eyes had been glued to for the past three days had been glared into so intensely, you were afraid the paint was going to chip off under your hardened gaze. It was tough - you knew you had to eat something, but your appetite was little to none.
So, that’s one thing love does. Makes your head spin and your appetite diminish.
You knew you had to do something. If there was something you had done over the last three days, it was think about what to do with the whole situation before the semester started.
With the baby. Your baby. Javi’s baby.
Your heart ached for someone to actually love, and for someone to love you back the same way. A love that came easily, naturally. Just like your love for Javi. He was easy to love and admire, no matter how hard he tried to deny his feelings and apparently fuck his way through and around every obstacle.
“If you want to know things about them… I figured you have to hang around the same people they do. The same women they do.” Javi’s words still nagged in your mind. You knew he had probably had sex with enough women to last a man a decade, and yet he never seemed fully sated. Could you be enough for him?No, shut up. Stupid mind.
You knew you had to tell him. You had to give him a say in the matter, because you respected him that much. No matter how much or how little you wanted to keep it, you didn’t feel like it was your choice to make on your own. And with every day passing, your love and want grew.
Most of the things you were considering was talking against having the baby, with the first being where the father was located. He was so far from you, both location and expectation wise. Maybe even development wise. You reached out your hand and grabbed the crackers from your nightstand, along with the phone.
You needed to try and call him again. He needed to know, and you had to get through to him somehow.
You dialed one of the numbers he had given you and waited patiently while it rung, while pushing a cracker past your lips. It was the only thing you could manage to keep down. Even though the crackers managed to dry out your entire mouth just by looking at them, they were still the most inviting food you could think of.
You felt your heart pick up the pace as the tones kept going off, until you got to the automated voicemail in Spanish, probably asking you to leave a message after the tone.
It seemed like starting to pick apart the problem was even more overwhelming than you had expected, since you started bawling the minute you hung up.
You had no idea what to feel - all the emotions were overwhelming and settling on one out of them all seemed like an impossible task. You decide on trying to get hold of Javi again. You bite your lip before you hold out the phone in front of you yet again, and dialing the other number Javi gave you.
The fucking Embassy. You felt like a childish stalker as you patiently waited for someone, anyone, to pick up the damn phone. A click sounded, before his voice filled your ears, for the first time in… what felt like a very long time.
“Peña.” It felt like all the air had left your lungs, and the whole speech you had prepared to get into touch with him had disintegrated into thin air the second you had heard his voice. You were instantly thrown back into your fantasies, the recollection of his hands on your skin - your hips, your waist, your neck, his lips against yours.
“¿Quién es?” You could hear the impatience in his tone, and you knew you had to speak up sooner or later, or he would hang up on you. He was an impatient man after all, and he was probably busy.
“Javi,” Your voice was shaky when you finally managed to mutter out his name. “It’s… me.” You breathe in, closing your eyes at the relaxing feeling of the air being let back into your lungs. You could feel your body missing him, the presence of him already. You shut your eyes tightly at the sound of him sucking in a breath on the other end.
You didn’t know what kind of breath it was. Was it an I miss you, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten properly in touch with you since you left Colombia? Or was it an in all just a Fuck, not you again, stop trying to get in touch with me, I’ve got other, more important things to do?
At this point you didn’t even know which of those two you wished for it to be at this point. It would be easier if he just ignored the fact that you even existed. Well, easier for him, that is. This wasn’t ever just going to be easy for you anymore. You were bound to him one way or another. You weren’t ever going to forget this point in your life.
“Hermosa.” And then everything disintegrated yet again. The wall you had been building along with the fake scenarios you had been making up in your head simply vanished in that moment, and the whole slate was wiped clean. You hated he had such power over you, with just one simple word. It was like you could feel his gaze on you. His breath fanning over your face and his hands hovering over your skin.
“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.” You open your eyes at his voice telling you just what you needed to hear. “I’m sorry hermosa. For not getting in touch sooner.” You lift the hand not holding the phone to your heart, somehow trying to keep it from beating out of your chest. “We really need to talk.”
“It’s alright.” It’s barely a whisper, but you know he hears you nonetheless, from the way he starts going on about how much of an asshole he’s been, and how sorry he is, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. You don’t know how long he spends apologizing, if it’s just a few seconds or a minute, but you cut him off.
“I need to talk to you about something.” Your voice is shaky as you hear his flood of words come to a halt. The silence between the two of you in those short seconds is deafening. An awful number of thoughts manages to run through your head in the span of barely any time. You feel like he knows already, yet he isn’t telling you if he does.
“I really don’t wanna do it over the phone.” You lean back against your pillow, looking up into the ceiling as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “I really need to see you, Javi. It’s been almost two months.”
You hear papers being ruffled on the other end of the phone, and you bite your lip as you await his answer. What if he didn’t want to see you again? You really had no idea what you were going to do, no matter what the two of you ended up agreeing on.
“I need to see you. It might be possible for me to get some additional leave within the next week.” You hear him lighting a cigarette on the other end, and you close your eyes, imagining him as the cigarette hangs between his lips while he talks. “I’ll come see you.”
You hear him inhale, followed by a deep exhale, and you find yourself dreaming back to the few times he’d blow the smoke into your mouth ever so sinfully. You let out a silent whimper, your thoughts already taking you further and further away from reality. If you could just daydream for the rest of your life, everything would be so much easier.
“Hermosa?” his voice pulls you out of your trance, and you breathe out a sigh. “I got your postcard.” You smile softly. Your heart was pounding heavily behind your ribcage at the thought of him holding it, looking at it, thinking of you.
“Yeah?” You manage to breathe out, before you let your hand travel down to rest on your stomach. That meant he now knew where you lived. “I’m in Miami now. Back for the start of the semester.”
You hear Javi ruffle some papers again. “I’ll talk to the director today. Let her know what the plan is. Then I’ll call you back, alright? I promise.” You close your eyes as the feeling of tears welling up comes back for another moment. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You wanted to tell him that, but somehow you couldn’t allow yourself to say it.
“Okay Javi.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. You have so many suppressed feelings coming to the surface right at that moment, and your whole body desperately wanting to give in and let out all of the emotions you’ve been containing, but you really didn’t want to flood Javi with it, giving he’s at work. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“I’ll see you soon, hermosa. I miss your beautiful face.” You can hear the smile playing on his lips, and you stifle a giggle. You hear his name being called on the other end, and you know you must let the moment pass for now. He’d already given you a lot of his time. “I love you. Talk soon.”
You barely manage to say the words back to him before he’s hung up the phone, and you once again throw your head back against your pillow. Now there was a possibility that you could see Javi the following week. God, you wish it would happen. You needed to see him. You didn’t know what part of you longed for him most – your heart, your mind, your lust, or your conscience.
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
“Peña.” His voice sounded nothing like she had expected. It was definitely a mature voice - a voice that had been strained from many years of usage. She could also hear the roughness that had probably come from smoking countless cigarettes. No good sign, so far.
“I’m calling on behalf of my daughter.” She stated into the phone, and she heard the man hold his breath on the other end of the line. “I don’t know what you have told her or what the two of you have been doing, but I know one thing. You’re going to leave my daughter alone and pay for what you have caused.” There was no tremble in her voice as she spoke to him.
“Ma’am, I have no idea wha-“ Javi started, but was cut off by the pitched voice of the woman on the other end.
“You have no id- oh my lord. How can you be so selfish? Or was she just an easy target for you to sink your predatory fingers into?” She spat back, feeling the heat of her flash of anger spread from her cheeks and into the skin of her chest.
“My sweet girl has been defiled by a man who won’t even take responsibility for his actions. I don’t know how you sleep at night, knowing a young woman is now on a crash course because you decided you needed some young meat to settle your urges with! I am disgusted beyond words!” The words resonated within his mind, and Javi felt his mouth run dry.
“Ma’am…” his fingers rubbed over his forehead, trying to relieve the tension drawing in his eyebrows. “If this is about this summer with your daughter, I reassure you that every intention I had was good. I would never, and didn’t force anything upon your daughter.” He heard the woman huff on the other line and decided to speak up again before she could start.
“Those weeks I spent with your daughter were some of the best in my life, and believe me when I say I would let nothing bad happen to her. With all due respect ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Javi heard her sputtering again before retracting the phone from his ear - her voice still clear as day as she screamed into the phone. Javi felt his attention slowly dissolving into nothing.
“You son of a! She’s barely entered her twenties and you… oh my. Are you a complete imbecile?” Javi halfway agreed with her, barely listening. His eyes landed on what his pen was scribbling on, and he muttered out a ‘shit’, noticing what he had been doodling on. He held the phone between his head and shoulder, removing the important information he had just ruined… a little.
“She is pregnant! You do know what happens when two people take the Lord’s name in vain before marriage?! You are dishonoring our beliefs!” Javi sighed and, against his good will, barely continued listening with half an ear to your mother’s spew of profanities. “You have sinned! You have taken the innocence of an unsuspecting young woman!”
If Javi hadn’t been listening before, he certainly was trying to recall what your mother had just said. It couldn’t be. Your mother continued talking, and Javi could hear her voice going through many different emotions while she switched between weeping and screaming.
“Ma’am I’m gonna have to call you back…” Javi slowly ended the call before drawing out a cigarette and lighting it with no emotion. Steve looked up at Javi from his paperwork, having listened in on a bit of their conversation, calling out his name.
Javi’s eyes met Steve’s over the table between them, and it felt like a drum was being pounded upon inside his head. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. He hoped to God it wasn’t true. It sounded harsh, but it was definitely a situation he didn’t want to find himself in.
Javi didn’t know how to feel. Or rather, he didn’t want to. He reached into the cabinet below the desk and pulled out the bottle he’d been storing in the darkness of the confined space, silently wishing he magically would fit in there as well.
Steve was watching him from behind some paperwork, having gained a little insight into the phone call Javi had just received. Somehow, Steve already knew. You could call it a gut feeling, or just the fact that Steve truly knew his partner. He just hadn’t expected this situation to become a reality.
Steve felt sorry for the man on the opposite side of the desk as he watched him screw off the lid and gulp down some of the brown liquid. Then he followed the tan hand as it reached into the pocket of the jacket slung over the armrest of the chair Javi was seated in, and watched as a cigarette appeared between the long fingers.
He watched in silence as the tip of the cigarette disappeared under the curtain of the brown mustache, eyes flickering to where nimble fingers flipped open a zippo and lighting the bared, encapsulated leaves of the tobacco. Silently, Steve wished for Javi to open up to him. He was tired of the way his colleague always shut himself up like a clam when something happened.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The smoke left Javi’s lips along with the words, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Javi’s eyes darted to Steve’s face, taking in the way the skin around his eyes drew up into crinkles, as he smiled at the older man.
“I have to go see her.” Javi breathed, cigarette smoke twisting its way around his words as he spoke. Steve nodded, understanding with the little context given. It was routine by now. He knew Steve knew him like the back of his hand, no matter how reluctant Javi was to admit it.
“You can stay with us. No rush. I’m sure Con would be delighted to have you staying.” Steve was transferring back to Miami, and the two colleagues were wrapping up some last minute ties in Medellín before Steve’s departure the following week.
Connie had moved back to Florida the year before, leaving with their adopted daughter to ensure their safety, and Steve had decided to stay. It had taken a lot of convincing on Connie’s end, but Steve had finally given in and was moving back to the states after two years in Colombia.
Javi, on the other hand, had no intentions on moving back to the states in the near future. Maybe because all he had was his father and some broken relationships to people from his past, or because, no matter where he was, he never felt like he properly fit in.
He never felt like he could do his job right, meet the right people or even spend his time right. That was, until he met you. In the short period of time you were in Colombia, you managed to give him a feeling of belonging - something very foreign to him.
He loved the few days when he got to go home to you. He loved the feeling of coming home to someone, and having someone who actually admired him, talked with him, laughed with him, and didn’t judge him for his line of work.
Javi had to admit it - dating, as a federal agent, was hard. There was the unforgiving hours of work, there were unforgiving people wanting to hurt him and the people around him, and then there was the way of getting information in the god-forsaken country of Colombia.
Sometimes, Javi wishes he could get lost. Lost, and having no responsibility. Maybe just disappear? It would definitely be easier that way. Especially right now. Javi secretly wished he would just melt into a puddle and be dried off the floor by the cleaning lady.
What the hell was he supposed to do with a baby? Was he supposed to bring you into this life? Was he supposed to bring a baby into this life? He never knew if he was safe, if the people around him were safe. He could already see you kidnapped, beaten up, what was worse. He couldn’t lose you that way.
He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and it pulled him out of the spiraling of his own thoughts. He looked up at Steve, who offered him a warm smile. “It’ll be alright, man.” Javi leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, letting out a deep sigh.
He needed to figure this situation out. And quickly.
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
next chapter
#javier peña#Javier Pena#javier peña x reader#javier pena x reader#Javier Peña#javier pena x you#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena imagine#me recordarás#pedro#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x you#Pedro Pascal
122 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wingsofdeath
Lex
justcyclingstuffs
26 yo obsessed with cycling and f1 drivers
sillyrascalpersonakid
NOAH LYNX
pytncism
isa's
sunnyzhp22art
sunny's art