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#posting this makes me feel a little better i think
spidybaby · 2 days
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Forgive you, for what?
Summary: After the release of your new song, people start to make rumors about your relationship, making Gavi feel uncomfortable. (Singer!Reader)
Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexy time, implications of cheating.
Face Claim: Emilia Mernes
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"Pablo, don't do that." You say, laughing at him hitting your hand away. Making you almost trop the PS5 controller.
You two were playing fifa. He taught you how to play it, and now he loves that you got to be able to beat him on the game.
"I swear to God, princesa." He laughs when you imitate him hitting your hands. "If you win I'm unfollowing you on insta."
Just as he says that, you score the winner goal of the game. You jump happy, laughing at how he sucks and you are the one and only winner.
He grabs you by the waist, pulling you down to lay on top of him. You laugh at him. Arms behind his neck and lips on his face.
You were careful with him, especially after his injury.
"I beat you." You laugh. Kissing his lips.
He loves these moments with you. Just you and him enjoying the company of each other and not thinking about work and all the responsibilities.
You love how his demeanor changed since the injury. You felt your heart being ripped off when you saw him get injured on the field.
With your help and this family, it was a hard way but he made it. You were so proud of him. He loved his progress as much as you loved to see him renewed and fresh.
"Let's cook something, you need to take your vitamins with food." You kiss his nose, making him scrunch it. "C'mon, mi amorcito."
He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheeks. He loves how shy and red you get when he focus his attention on your cheeks.
"I want a picture with you to remember how happy we are. Put on your shades." You reach over your phone and to where his shades were. Putting them on his face. "Di quesoooo." You smile at the camera.
"Quesoooo" He repeats. Laughing after a few pictures. You kiss his face while taking a few more. "Are you posting me on social media?" He asks, pretending to be serious.
"Why you care?" You follow his game. "You are going to unfollow me." You stick your tongue out for him.
"Maybe an appreciation post will make me follow you again." He jokes. Getting up from the couch and pulling you lightly. "Let's make Mac and cheese." He begs.
You nod, asking him to take the things you'll use. You grab your phone and choose a picture to post on your insta story.
Yourusername has added to close friends
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You tagged him, even when the boy only goes on insta to repost something from the barca profile. And even when he can't repost it.
"Princesa, everything's ready." He calls you from the kitchen. "Ven, mi amor."
You smile, loving how he always picks the right way to call you and melt you from love at the same time.
🌸🌸🌸
"Perdonarte, para qué?
Para que vuelvas a fallarme otra vez?
No muchas gracias, ese chiste ya no me hace gracia."
You sing the lyrics to your new song that you have been working on with the Mexican group Los Angeles Azules.
You loved them since you were a child, and for you to be singing and filming a music video with them is a dream come true.
"You look amazing." The lead singer of the group tells you. "We heard your album when it got out and now on our way here to be able to get your energy."
"That's so sweet." You smile, hugging him. "My mom is going crazy about me being here with you. She's a big fan. We are."
You talk with all of them a little bit. Joking while filming. It was all so fun for you and to them too.
"Okay, take three. Y/n, from the beginning."
"Get over me, forget me
And think that it was just a dream what you lived with me
Get it together
There won't be any more pages of the best story you've read
With that, I say goodbye
Please, better not call me
I don't even want you as a friend
Forgive you, for what?
For you to fail me again?
No, thank you very much
That joke is not funny anymore." You sing the song while the music is playing over it.
Yourusername
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Liked by pablogavi, angelesazulesmx and 2,573,837 others
Yourusername can't wait for this to be out. See you tomorrow ❤️💋
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angelesazulesmx 🤩🤩🤩
pablogavi ❤️
"Can you please tell me what this secret project is about?" Pablo begs. "Mi amor, I'm nosy." He pouts.
"I know, precioso." You laugh. "But I want you to see it the day it comes out and tell me your real reaction to it."
"I can do that right now." He pouts again.
"No, papi." You shake your head no. "That's not going to happen."
He understood your motives, you always show him your projects before hearing them, except the ones you want him to feel in real time.
"Hey, why did you unfollow me on insta?" You jokingly yell at him. "Amor, why?" You laugh.
"I told you I would." He laughs. "I did, I go by my word."
You talk with him for a little while. Packing your things to go back to Spain to practice for your tour leg in Europe.
"Did you tell her, Pablo?" You hear Aurora in the back of the call.
"Si." He shouts. "Amor, Aurora wants you to have lunch with her as soon as you land in Barcelona. Because she's leaving to Sevilla."
"Yes, tell Aurorita that I want that."
"I'll text you." Aurora yells again.
You laugh at her. You love his family, and you are very thankful that they love you back. It was a big piece in your relationship. The approval and love of your families.
"I have to go, I need to finish packing." You say as your phone pulls the notification of low battery. "Te amo, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait, don't come here, I'll come to you." He mentions quickly. "When are you landing?"
"I think at like 2 p.m." You say with doubt. "I'll text you when Aurora and I are done."
"Vale, te amo."
"Te amo más, see you soon, papi."
"See you soon, mami." He blows a kiss to you.
🌸🌸🌸
The song is out, and the Spanish press is making a huge deal out of it.
holacom
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Liked by 24,574
holacom International singer Y/n released her new song in collaboration with Los Angeles Azules, a Mexican cumbian group, the song "Forgive you, for what?" became number one in multiple countries.
Fans are wondering if this new title has to do with Gavi, number six on the Barça first team, unfollowing her and about previous cheating rumors from the footballer.
(📸 @yourusername and @pablogavi)
Pablo hates when the media makes up rumors about you, and he definitely hates when they make rumors about your relationship.
When he heard the song, he never thought it was about you two or any situation that you two went through.
He was loyal to you. He can't be with anyone else when he has everything he ever wanted with you.
"Please, mi amor. Answer your phone." He tries one more time to FaceTime you. When the call goes to nothing. He feels frustrated. "Rora, please try one more time." He begs.
Aurora does. She tried to text you all morning, but the last text she got from you was before your plane took over. That was more than 15 hours ago.
"Nothing." She sighs, seeing his brother lose his mind over the tabloids. "Pablo, there has to be a reason. She won't just not answer you."
She feels cursed. Just when Pablo was relaxing, a notification popped up on his phone. You posted an instagram post.
yourusername
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Liked by angelesazulesmx, mariabecerra and 5,485,486 others
Yourusername Gracias! I want to thank all of you for your amazing support and love to Perdonarte, para qué? (Forgive you, for what?)
Thank you so much to Los Angeles Azules and to everybody who worked hard to be able to make this possible. Forever in my heart ❤️
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pablogavisgirl pls don't tell me this is about Gavi😭😭😭
y/nfan1 love the song but pls tell us this isn't a confirmation of the rumors of Gavi cheating on you
gavihater1 happy you finally realized he was not worthy and that you are too much for him anyway
His face drop, why weren't you answering him but you were posting?
He wants to yell, he wants to throw his phone to the wall and pretend this shitshow isn't happening.
"I need to be alone for a moment." He excuses himself to his sister.
But in the United States airport, you were locked in a room with no phone and no way of communicating to anyone.
"How much until she can leave?" You manager asks the immigration guy. "This is ridiculous. She's a singer, and her visa is only a day into the six months rule."
"Ma'am I don't make the rules. But this is my job, and I can't just let her break the law just cause she is a singer."
"I know, I'm not asking you to break anything. I'm just telling you that it's been seven hours since we landed here. We already told you and showed you proof that this is just a connection flight."
You were mad. You were supposed to be in the United States for only an hour and you already spent seven hours while the immigration officer confirmed the story that you were a singer and your trip to Barcelona was with working purposes.
All because your visa was one day into the six months limit where you can't fly. That was an honest mistake from your manager, you can't blame her.
"Can I at least have some food?" You ask the police who was with you in the room. "Please."
He ignores you. You were mad, you were just passing by, not like you were colonizing their land.
"Okay, you are free to go." The same immigration dude came to open the door for you. "Good luck at your concert."
You didn't even flash a smile. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but you weren't. "Good night." You say.
You hug your manager. Telling her how tired you were and how you needed food and a long sleep.
"You'll have seven hours to do that." She walks with you. "I got us a private jet, no more stupid commercial flights."
"And good thing is that your song is number one on the charts." Your assistant tells you. "And I posted a thank you to Los Angeles Azules and to your fans."
You don't even have the energy to care about a post or anything. "My phone is dead." You mention. "I was on like 10% before they took me in"
You walk to a coffee shop, getting something to drink while your assistant got you something to eat.
"Here." She hands you the food. "And your phone is charging. Here." She left the phone with the power bank attached.
You calmly eat while watching a movie. When you have more energy to finally do more than just be a potato, you pick your phone.
Your eyes widen at the sight of all the missing calls from Pablo, Aurora and your friends. "I have to call Pablo." You say.
"No." Your manager snatchs your phone off your hands. "You need sleep, Pablo is probably worry and that's okay, but sleep."
She didn't want you to find out about the drama the tabloids are doing. She wants you to get to Barcelona with at least a little energy and then deal with it.
y/n.hq
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Liked by aurorapaezg, antonellaroccuzzo and other 1,472,380 others
y/n.hq three randoms. One you'll understand later, one listening to Perdonarte, para qué? and one before our plane took out to Barcelona, where the new leg of the tour began.
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gavihater2 love how you are ignoring everything about that excuse of a player
y/nfan2 amore, please tell us you and Gavi aren't done 😭😭😭
_ferminlopez can I get free tickets?
bcnboyslover FERMIN NOT YOU HERE 😭
gavilover34 baby you can afford them
gaviandy/nlover is this the way they tell us everything is fine and they're still together? Fermin?
"C'mon Pablo, please pick up." You try one more time. "Papi, I need you. Answer" You whisper, nervous about the whole drama that the media pulled.
When you landed in Barcelona, it was 11 pm. So you needed your bed and a pill to be able to sleep all night.
The repercussions came when you woke up to your friends blowing your phone with questions about Gavi, Aurora asking you if you were okay and to call her and the worst.
Pablo texting you that he was hurt that you weren't answering, you were just letting the fire get to him about something you denied him access. And asking you if that was your plan for the beginning.
You called Aurora, who was in Sevilla at that point. You explained to her what happened, and she understood your tired state. Not blaming you for what you did as soon as you landed.
She texted Pablo, asking him to let you explain yourself, how you wouldn't do what he thinks you did.
But you weren't going to wait until his mad state is over. You needed to talk to him face to face, and even if he didn't want it to, you do.
You open the door of his house with your spare key. "Pablo!" You yell for him to hear that it was you. "Pablo Martín!" You yell again.
You walk to his kitchen, nothing. The living room, nothing. His room, nothing again.
You were nervous, he wasn't there. You pase around thinking where he was. Was he with Fermin? Was he with Pedri? At one of la masia boys? Where?
You were so into your mind that you don't hear the front door being open or the steps coming to the bedroom.
But you do scream when the door is fully open in a quick motion. Making Pablo jump scared. "Por la puta, qué mierda?" He asks, hand on his heart.
"Pablo!" You say happy, hugging him and kissing his face. His hands are on your sides, not really hugging you, more like keeping you steady. "Mi amor, I'm sorry about not being able to answer. I was trapped and I wasn't able to take my flight."
"Y por qué si pudiste subir fotos?" He asks, pushing you away from him. "Hmm?" (And why did you have time to post?)
"I didn't, papi, that was my assistant." You try to explain. "Papi, I would never do anything to hurt you."
"Well, you did." He walks into the bathroom, ignoring you while taking his clothes off. Ready to take a shower.
"Pablo, please!"
He got into the shower, not caring that you were there. Nothing you haven't seen before, so you walked into the bathroom.
You open the glass door. Water slashing all over your shoes and legs. "Pablo, I'm not going anywhere."
"Entonces quédate ahí." (Then stay there) he continued with hos shower routine without a care in the world.
You close the door. Removing your shoes and clothes, except for your underwear. You weren't giving up just like that.
"Mira, Pablo." You grab his shoulders, hands removing the foam from his forehead to he could see you. "I was forced to stay at a freaking two meters office with a very mean police dude in New York." You explain.
He pays attention, even though he doesn't want to, he respects you enough to hear you.
"I was tired, I was jet lagged, I was hungry and thirsty, but I couldn't even move without the dude reaching for his taser."
You feel your eyes watering. You were stressed. The song was supposed to be something good. You with your favorite cumbia group, doing a Spanish language song after two English albums. Not this mess.
"I was tired." You cry. "And I wanted my boyfriend to understand. But he is too busy playing the hurt one when he knows I would never be the type to leave him with a song. Especially after talking to him on the phone and saying I love you."
You back away from him. Letting him see you discomfort. He felt bad, all that anger, and the words he sent you over text weren't even reasonable. You were right.
"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have asked my assistant to text you something to let you know I was okay. I'm I haven't been able to clean your name from the drama. I just want us to be okay. Is that possible?"
He nods, and you hug him carefully. Not wanting to take a bad step and slip I to the shower.
"Te amo, please don't ever think I don't." You say. "And if I don't contact you after a flight, please know it's because I was: a, put into custody of the immigration department. b, probably death asleep. And c, maybe in the air with no phone battery."
You make him laugh, the sound of it being the only thing you needed.
"Te amo, princesa." He kisses your forehead. "I was an insecure person, and I'm sorry about it. I'm sorry about that text. Maybe all the shit did got to my head."
"Then let's wash it off." You interrupt him, joking about his hair having shampoo and foam. "It's okay, I get insecure too. And just like you do, I'll be here to make you not feel like it." You kiss him. You quickly pull away. "Maybe let's take this shampoo off of you, it taste terrible."
He laughs, pulling you a little to the water falling. "What if you let me help you shower that tension away?" He asks, kissing your neck.
"Your injury." You remind him.
"Don't worry, I have my hands to do the work for me." He smirks, hands traveling to the elastic of your panties. "I love you."
"Really?" You ask, breathlessly. You kiss him. Your hands reach for the lock on your bra, undoing it. "Show me." You say, taking the remaining clothes off.
yourusername
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Liked by aurorapaezg, pablogavi, _ferminlopez and 6,483,382 others
yourusername a little appreciation post for this amazing boy, who also happens to be my boyfriend and one of my biggest supporters.
I love you to the moon and back. Thank you for everything, Pablo ❤️ You are the 6 on the pitch, but the 1 in my heart 🌸✨️❤️
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aurorapaezg los amo mucho ❤️
yourusername te amamos ❤️✨️
pablogavi I love you, my one 🌸✨️❤️
gavifan1 AHHH HE'S USING HER EMOJIS😭❤️
gadrilover he calls her my one 🥺🥺🥺
_ferminlopez romantic much?
_ferminlopez so about those free tickets 😗
yourusername no ❤️
pablogavi 🤣🤣🤣
_ferminlopez @yourusername wow 👌🏻
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welcometogrouchland · 21 hours
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I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)
#ramblings of a lunatic#dc comics#damian wayne#dick grayson#ITS JUST NOT THE SAME MAN#idk i was reading nightwing must die (again...) bc i was in a funk and saw another post saying how fans exaggerate the closeness btwn them#and on the one hand i get it. there is a very rosy portrayal of their relationship you'll come across in fanon#and they weren't very close at the beginning of their relationship#but man. reading Nightwing must die again was like#YES they fight. damian instigates it and while dick tries to exercise patience he does fight back/lash out on occasion#but despite all that it's still emphasized how important the two are to each other#when dick is forced to picture a future where he's lost his way he pictures damian being the one to bring him back#not necessarily bc damian is his favorite person on the planet but bc he gave damian robin. for a lot of practical reasons-#-but also bc how far damians come is (i think at least based on this arc) a testament to dick that hes doing Something right#both as a hero/person#damian is more than just a burden saddled on him (although there's an element of that in their batman and robin run)#he's also a last remaining connection to bruce when he's gone (remembering where he comes from) AND he's training damian+#-his own way! with a dash of tough love and workaholic spirit inherited but also a lot of patience and focus on being More than the darkness#idc what ppl say nightwing must die makes sense for these two. its a retcon but one that works imo#that dick buried his head in the sand about how much damian meant/the responsibility he had to him bc it was a commitment he was afraid of#and how damian ultimately was a point of maturation for dick even if he went back to being Nightwing#they were SO goddamn close and now they're still close but only in ways that are implied#and their bond is deemphasized in comparison to each others bond w/ say bruce. which i think is a shame#it was a wrinkle! a fun wrinkle that the batfamily had that in some ways dick understood damian better than Bruce-#-even if he didn't feel like he could handle the responsibility of raising him full time#it kills me that bc of the n52 we never got the handover of the batman mantle (and damian) from dick to bruce#next nightwing writer...include a flashback to that moment AND have damian appear in the book in present....AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!#anyway. dick is damians brother but also damian a little bit imprinted on him like a baby duck and its rubbed off on dick#they're partners they're mentor mentee but most importantly they were batman and robin. and they were the greatest#NOT bc it was all peaches and roses but bc they cared for each other exponentially despite all that
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httpsserene · 3 days
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I love your entire page, so I was thrilled to see that your requests are open. May I request a story with Daniel Ricciardo x Reader? Perhaps something where the reader is experiencing a moment of low self-esteem, comparing herself to his ex, and feeling down since they've recently started dating, yet the fans want his ex back. When Danny is dominant it makes me melt so perhaps a smut that is center on body worshipping yet leads to crazy back shots/missionary. He made you come multiple times and despite you trying to tap out , he’s not stopping anytime soon creating a big creamy mess 🫠
𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
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𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝟐
Summary: She’s the least favorite Formula One WAG. At first, she was optimistic, the fans would eventually get over it and maybe even start liking her—but she now knows that was a pretty naive thought. She’s constantly compared to Daniel’s ex-girlfriend—she’s not as pretty as her, she’s not as supportive as her, she’s not as popular as her, etc. Unfortunately, in a moment of low self-esteem—she breaks and thinks maybe the fans are right. Daniel, with a sixth sense of knowing when you’ve lost your mind, comes home and sees you gathering every belonging of yours that’s migrated to his apartment like you’re breaking up with him. He tries to change your mind with his words, but that doesn’t quite reassure you completely; so he has no choice but to do it with his actions, too. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader (her skin is described as brown) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. no beta we die like men. no srs it’s barely edited. angst with a happy ending. hurt/comfort. dom/sub undertones. arguing. breaking up/making up. those three little words. attempt at humor (a lil bit). implied subspace. insecure!reader. body worship. vaginal sex. oral sex (female receiving). online hate. overstimulation. protected sex. aftercare. this is dirty, i am so sorry. Word Count: 5k words.
Author's Notes: okay it's a couple hours late, but i was hit with a little creative genius and i think you guys will really enjoy this one! and it's the longest one too! an entire five-thousand words wow. aren't you glad i added more to this masterpiece.
let me know what you think! xxxxx
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prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻
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You’re trending on Twitter. No—not for one of your TikToks that you hope went viral, but under the hashtag #breakupwithherdaniel. Fans have decided to start a movement to make signs to take to the next Grand Prix, with pictures of your face posted next to that hashtag. In all of the tweets, they’re commenting on how they wished Daniel and his ex were still together, or comparing you to her, and saying that you’re toxic—you! In this situation, where none of the people online personally know you and take to bashing you on the internet; you are the toxic one! And that’s the last straw. You start packing your shit up into bags and whatever boxes you can find. A large amount of your belongings have migrated to Daniel’s apartment, even if you don’t officially live with him. You’ve been dating him for just over six months, and the entire time your relationship has been public his fans have harassed you.
They prefer his ex over you, it’s that simple. It probably doesn’t help that you’re not like one of the white models everybody thinks f1 drivers should date, but enough is enough. It didn’t bother you at first, you thought with just a little time everyone would calm down but the opposite has happened. They’ve only gotten worse and things have escalated to the point where it’s affecting your career and—you can’t take it anymore. And, maybe they’re right. Daniel doesn’t deserve to date a girl who can’t take the harsh eye of the media and fans. He’d be better off without you, and he might certainly be better off with his ex. She was there in his darkest times and his brightest successes. They ended on good terms so with a little charm, Daniel wouldn’t have a problem with getting back with her, surely. 
You’re throwing your bags on the living room couch, pulling a suitcase you left here from when you last traveled with him to throw your shoes into. And then, you hear the door open. 
Daniel’s happy voice carries to you from the entryway, “Baby, I’m home! I stopped at the store to pick up a slice of your favorite cake, because I know you’ve been needing some cheering up—”
You hear his steps halt as he sees you in the living room, bags and boxes filled to the brim with your stuff. 
“Baby?” Daniel asks, “What’s this about? This is late for it to be spring cleaning.”
You shake your head, swallowing softly as you turn to meet his eyes, “I’m leaving, Daniel.”
“What?” Daniel says confused.
“Don’t make it any more difficult than it needs to be,” you start, unable to fight back your tears any longer, “Just let me get my stuff and leave.”
Daniel rushes to you, pulling you to look at him, holding your arms still when you try to push him away from you.
“You’ve got to give me more than that. You’re leaving—why? Is it something I did? Did I say something? How long have you felt like this? I could’ve—I can fix it, baby. Don’t leave me,” Daniel pleads, his own eyes radiating how hurt, confused, and disbelieving he feels, “I thought we were strong? We’re the closest to being perfect, I thought. We barely argue; and even when we do it’s resolved properly. I don’t yell, I don’t talk to other women, I don’t ignore your calls or messages, I’m not possessive, I’m not crazy–what can I do? For you to stay, what can I do?”
“Nothing, Daniel. You can’t change my mind. But—it’s not your fault, okay? It’s me,” you cry harder when Daniel scoffs at your response, “I’m serious, Danny. It’s my fault.  I can’t take it anymore okay? You’re better off without me; I’m a distraction, I’m not as supportive as I should be, I’m not your type–you’d just perform and be happier without me, okay?”
“Fuck no,” Daniel emphasizes, “Who the hell is telling you that? Because I know you seriously don’t believe that. You’re the best thing to happen to me in my entire life, baby. You’re not a distraction, you support me tirelessly, and you sure as hell are my type. I can’t keep my hands off of you, you scold me all the time for that so, how can you say that ‘you’re not my type?’ I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you, ask anybody, baby.”
You groan angrily, “Not anybody! Have you asked your fucking fans? They sure as hell think that I’m the devil reincarnated. I can’t do anything publicly without being verbally harassed for it. I can’t dress the way I want to, I can’t act the way I want to, and I can’t even go to work! Your little fangirls are affecting my career—and I can’t do it anymore. They’ve won. I can’t take the judgment anymore, not for me just existing. You’d be happier with your ex, just like they want you to be.”
You and Daniel stare at each other silently, the air tense. 
“What do you mean,” Daniel pauses, his jaw tightening, “What do you mean they’re affecting your career?”
“They’re threatening to fire me because of my image. They’re saying I’m smearing the company's appearance,” you sigh out, picking at your cuticles anxiously. Daniel grabs your hands, stopping you.
“I’m going to kill them, baby–”
“Daniel!” you cut him off, aghast.
“No, I don’t care,” He dismisses, “The nerve of them to convince you that you’re not good enough for me. I should’ve kept asking you if you were bothered by the negative attention, but ever since you told me that you could handle it, I never checked in. And, I failed to see that it was getting worse. Worse enough to make you think that you need to leave to escape it. I’m going to embarrass those fans publicly and I’m going to get the team to back me up. As far as your job, I always hated them anyway. I never liked how they would deny your vacation time even though you had the days—you should quit.”
You stare at him deadpan, “Daniel Ricciardo. I’m not quitting my job and I am also still leaving.”
“Mhm, no,” Daniel scoffs hysterically, “You’re not breaking up with me. And, you would have a better reason to quit, if you stayed with me. I’ll retire you and make you my trophy wife, please.  Seriously, babe. Don’t leave. I should’ve dealt with the fans earlier, I know—it’s my fault that it even reached this point. Please, just stay with me.”
“I don’t know,” you murmur, crumbling into tears again, “They all seem to think your ex is a better fit and…I think I agree with them.”
Daniel gathers you into his arms, tucking you into his shoulder, “Baby, I broke up with her for a reason. And, I’m glad I did. All of those chronically online fans have no clue about why I broke up with her. I couldn’t imagine going back into that relationship, especially now that I’ve found you. Let me prove it to you, baby.
You sob, “How are you going to prove anything to me right now? Can I just be dramatic for a little longer?”
He laughs, giddy at the sound of your usual antics, “Well, I am going to set the media on fire with the language I use to address how the world has been disrespecting you. But first, I’m going to take you to bed and remind you what you’d be missing out on if you left. What other man could learn to know you as intimately as I do, hm? C’mon, baby—let me prove it to you. Let your body decide.”
Leaning back to look at him through your tears,  you think,  fuck it, why not?
Daniel presses you into the bed; you whine out desperately when he breaks the kiss, your eyes focused on the plush warmth of his lips as you try to chase them. The eagerness of your actions only dawns on you as you see his lips shift into a smiling laugh then, the embarrassment washes over you; honestly, you think, you can’t act like you can’t live without having his lips touching yours—he might find your yearning repulsive. Did his ex act like this for him? What if that’s why he broke up with her—
“Heyheyhey—don’t hide from me, baby,” Daniel coos concerned, his hand gently coaxing you to turn your head and meet his eyes, you didn’t even notice when you moved to hide your face with the pillow; he continues, “Where’d you go just then, pretty girl? Please tell me, baby, don’t hold it in.”
You meet his troubled gaze, and the love and care you see pouring out causes fresh tears to dance across your waterline. Through your blurry sight, you see Daniel’s brow furrow saddeningly as he carefully pulls you up into a sitting position and holds you tightly as you cry into his shoulder. His left hand massages the back of your neck, and his right hand finds a calming rhythm as he rubs your back. Your tears taper out quicker, and you wonder if you’ve exhausted their supply from the crying you’ve done today.
You draw back from his embrace, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, and your voice shakes and cracks as you begin to speak, “I’ve never been this insecure about myself. I couldn’t give a single fuck about what people say or think about me. But, today? It was just too much, Danny. Seeing all of your fans tear down every aspect of me; my personality, my looks, my body—why? And, they’re doing it under the reasoning that, I’m not good for you. Like, you’re not a grown man, who can decide who he wants to date? I support you quietly and loudly and’ll do it forever, but that’s not enough for them. And, today, it felt like it would  never be enough.
“So, when I saw them making signs, t-to…to encourage you to break up with me,” Daniel muffles a sound of hurt in his chest, “I was humiliated. I-I, didn’t want that sort of attention for you, they should be focused on your racing, not your undeserving girlfriend. And, I thought I’d make it easy for you and leave.”
“Baby, no…”
“You’re such a good boyfriend, Daniel. It would be so much easier for you to end this relationship and go back to your ex, or date some other girl that satisfies you and your fans—”
“Babe, no,” Daniel cuts you off, his tone hardened, “The only person that needs to be satisfied with you is me. And, I am. The opinions of those fucking idiots don’t matter to me, and they shouldn’t matter to you. Because that’s all they are: opinions, and they’re absolutely stupid opinions, at that. They’re comments have done the complete opposite of convincing me to leave you. They’ve shown me that I need to let you know how much I want you with me—they’ve made me realize that I need to let you know that I love you.”
Your eyes widen, your breath stuttering. It’s the first time, he’s said it.  Daniel loves you.
Sobbing softly, you murmur, “I hope you’re not only saying those three words because you think it’s going to make me happy. Because, I do love you, too.”
Daniel laughs wetly. “I’m saying that I love you now because you need to know that. I would’ve preferred to say it under different circumstances but, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And—fuck everybody who’s saying you’re not good enough for me. If anything, I’m not good enough for you. I haven’t even won you a trophy, yet.”
You stare at him in disbelief, “Shut the fuck up. You’re everything to me. You could be driving the slowest car on the grid and I would still be celebrating your last-place finishes like you’ve won the championship.”
Daniel stares at you silently and you nearly fear that you’ve broken him. He sighs out lovingly before, leaning down and pressing kisses across your entire face to wash away your tear tracks. He finishes with a barely there kiss to the tip of your nose and asks quietly, “Let me show you that I love you. I don’t think saying it is enough.”
You look at him. You find what you’re looking for because you agree, “Okay.”
Daniel perks up, “Okay?”
You nod, slowly sliding down to rest on your back against the bed like you were before. “Yes.”
Your boyfriend shifts to kneel in between your legs, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, and once he gets confirmation from you, he smoothly pulls it off of you, dropping it off the bedside. His hands spread across the expanse of your abdomen and move to rest on your waist as he buries himself in the length of your neck. He nips kisses and presses of tongue along your brown skin, surprising you often with the ache of teeth and suction to bloom bruises. When he slides downwards, he paints your collarbone and decolletage loosely, the irritated flesh only sends flares of pleasure across your nerves. Daniel huffs in frustration as the straps of your bra disrupt the smooth skin across your shoulders, and he pulls you upwards to arch into him as he slips his hand underneath to unclasp the closure. You’re brain comes online to help him remove the offending fabric as you shrug out of the straps and desperately fling the bra to a corner of the room you can’t care to look at.
Daniel hums thankfully and resumes tracing along your shoulder, down your arms, and to the bones of your wrists and tips of your fingers with gentle hands followed by his lips. 
He swallows before speaking, “Whenever you’re splayed out so prettily underneath me, I forget how to act. The cloudy look in your eyes, your chest covered with my love, the muscles in your shoulders and arms relaxed and syrupy—so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”
You can’t find the words to respond to him because your entire body sings out when Daniel’s lips suction around your nipple. You feel his tongue swirl around, wetting it before his teeth join in and scrape softly against the sensitive bud. He releases you and even though your eyelids have fluttered shut at the feeling, you feel him watching you as your back rises off the bed and your head falls back. His hand finds its place right underneath your breasts, and he pushes you back down into the mattress and holds you there as he continues the assault of his lips on your chest. You can only cry out with every tug of his teeth, every suckle of his lips on the surrounding skin, whimpers choked down as his mouth ravages you entirely. Your hand flies to Daniel’s hair for purchase, and to press his head further into your chest, but he pulls away.
“Forgive me—but I love your chest, baby. I love how you let me take naps on them and play with my hair, I love the feeling of them in my hand, I love making you scream every time I play with them. And, you taught me that the only answer to ass versus boobs is both of them. Because, I would willingly suffocate in either of them, and all of you.”
Your chest heaves as you try to regain some air in your lungs, but Daniel doesn’t let you breathe for a second, “One day, I hope you let me fuck your pretty chest.”
Your mouth drops open, as you flounder for the air and words required to respond to his statement.
“Another time, though. May I take off your pants, baby? I  need to fuck you.”
“Yesyes—please, hurry up,” you rush out, already moving to shimmy out of your bottoms, Daniel tugging them off roughly when they get caught around your ankles. The strength he uses slides you down the bed a little, and you can’t help but muffle a gasp underneath your hand. 
He pulls your hand from your mouth in an instant, “No. Not tonight. I let you get away with hiding your sounds from me before, but I need to know how good I’m making you feel,” he pauses to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist and continues, “Be as loud as you want, love.”
You nod jerkily, and Daniel lowers your arm to rest against the bed carefully, before he shuffles down the bed, resting on his stomach and spreading your legs to drape along his shoulders. He starts with your right leg; nipping at the bone of your ankle before following with a soothing touch of his lips, and moving upwards, biting and kissing along the muscles of your calf, the inside of your knee. He slows when he reaches the plush meet of your thigh, taking his time biting the muscle and laving over the teeth marks he leaves with his tongue. He repeats the treatment along your left leg, ignoring how he can see the wetness dripping out of you, darkening the fabric of your panties. 
“Love your legs, baby,” Daniel breaths shakily, “Calves, and thighs, muscle, and all plush skin. If I could choose how to go out, it would be in between them. Doesn’t matter if they’re around my waist, or my head—it’s fucking paradise, baby.”
Your thighs shudder as if they’ve heard his words, and Daniel notices immediately. His hands move to grasp them and let his thumbs dig into the fresh marks he’s added against your brown skin. You keen airily, your thighs attempting to shut, but Daniel’s hands keep you spread with little effort. He leans down and hides his smile by pressing his mouth to your panties. He proceeds to noisily kiss along your covered cunt, dragging his tongue and nose through the soaked fabric, humming amusedly when your hips buck down onto him, one of his hands shifting to press your pelvis to the mattress.
You’re mortified. Daniel’s pretty much making out with your cunt over your panties, and he seems to be enjoying it as much as you if the way his hips are rocking along the bed is any telling when you raise your head to stare down at him. His eyes shut as he loses himself between your legs; he looks blissed out and you drop your head back against the mattress, bringing your hand to tangle in the mess of his curls. He pulls away with a grunt and you tug at his hair annoyed, sitting up slightly to see what he stopped for—
His eyes are wild, drenched with lust. Daniel doesn’t waste time pulling your panties off, roughly tugging the fabric covering your cunt to the side, tucking it in the dip between your groin and thigh. You see his eyes roll back slightly at the sight of you before he shuts them and dives forward to bring his mouth down on your cunt. His tongue pushes inside of you sloppily and his nose makes sure your clit is always receiving attention. The only option you have is to choke on your moans and grasp for stability in his hair and the sheets of the bed. Your tummy undulates at the pleasure racketing up your spinal cord, it’s too much to process already. And in a split-second, Daniel’s tongue is exchanged for two of his fingers, your cunt thoroughly soaked with a mix of your wetness and his spit, and the stretch is mild, more of a welcomed soreness than pain. Daniel’s eyes open to watch your face closely, you’re too busy moaning to verbally assure him to continue, but he understands (the continuous desperate roll of your hips against his grasp is a helpful clue). 
He massages his fingers into you rapidly, brushing along the sensitive wall along the top of your cunt—and it dawns on you very quickly that you are going to cum. He must see the realization wash over your face, or through the signs of your body, but he avoids your g-spot to scissor his fingers inside of you to stretch you out, a third joining the rest when you huff down at him angrily. The new stretch quiets you, loud whines and moans hushed for a moment as you savor the ache. Yet, you quickly hunger for more, unapproving of the sudden gentleness Daniel exhibits.
“Danny, please,” you cry, “C’mon—fuck me, already. ‘m gonna cum.”
He pulls his fingers from the grasp of your vagina and manhandles you onto your front, stomach flat against the bed. With firm hands, he pulls your hips upwards, one hand sliding down your back to deepen the arch and push your ass further out. The insecurity and shyness you had earlier have dissipated; you’d like to be fucked, now. You spread your knees wider and rock back even more.
“Fuck,” Daniel croaks out, and he rushes to grab a condom from the nightstand. You’re sure he’s relatively quick about the entire ordeal; of losing his pants, grabbing the condom, and rolling it on himself, but it feels like ages, and you can’t help but huff out angrily. Thankfully, you feel his left hand come back to rest on your ass and feel the head of his cock tap along your cunt. 
Your hole parts for him prettily and Daniel sinks in smoothly, not stopping until your ass meets his hips. You whine softly, the ache of him finding a home within you will never lose its luster. Daniel shudders behind you, the grip of his hand on your ass shaking—his breathing heavy as it echoes around the room. 
“Fuck,” Daniel moans again, “Love your cunt, pretty girl. Hot, wet, and tight,” he falls forward, and nuzzles into the hair at the nape of your neck, before pressing a kiss at the back of your neck, and rising again, “‘s so good…I-I can’t find the words right now.”
You giggle softly into the bed and Daniel takes the green light when you press back against him. He begins to thrust into you, hard enough to punch the breath out of your lungs. He’s never fucked you this forcefully before; his motions are erratic, yet somehow he’s nailing the spot inside of you with every other pass of his hips. The sound of your skin meeting manages to be hidden by the screams and moans you manage to release when you find enough air in your lungs. Daniel’s other hand wraps around your front and presses down on your pelvis, tightening your inner walls. And, your vision whites out.
Your legs give out and you feel yourself slouch into the mattress, but Daniel is quick to hold your hips up for you and continues to rail into you, not allowing you any respite. You can hear yourself babbling, but you can’t make out what you’re saying. The heat of Daniel’s chest radiates over your back and you feel his breath wash over your spine, his endearments and praise you hear but can’t understand as the pleasure has blinded your senses. What you can feel, is how his thrusts continue and don’t slow. 
You regain control of your body when he rotates you onto your back, he only pulls out briefly while he grabs a pillow to shove underneath your hips before he falls back inside of you. At this angle, Daniel feels larger than life, knocking against buttons inside of you you’re sure he’s only ever discovered. It’s too much. He fucks into you slowly, the press of his cock slow but strong, the motion pushing you up the bed slightly.
You gasp, moans erupting out of you when you attempt to speak. You manage to keep your eyes open long enough to look at Daniel and see the pleased smile on his face. He moves one hand from your hip to cradle your cheek and swipes a tear that escaped from the corner of your eye away. 
“Oh,” Daniel hushes you softly, “Gone for me already, aren’t you?”
“T-t-oo much,” you stutter, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, “ feels s’good.”
He chuckles quietly, the noise fading into a moan as your cunt clenches around him, “Too much or it feels good, pretty girl? You’re going to have to pick one.”
Daniel’s thrusts get rougher, and he stops pulling out nearly all the way and focuses on digging into you deeper; making sure to drag himself along that place inside you with every thrust. Your scream breaks as soon as it leaves your mouth, the unyielding stimulation feels white hot. You take a shaky hand and drag it down Daniel’s chest, from his tattoos to his abdomen, and push against him while simultaneously trying to raise your hips away from his.
“No, baby,” Daniel coos down at you, knocking your hand away from his abs, and continuing to press inside of you, pulling your hips down, “Don’t run from me. Take it. You know what to say if it’s too much for you.”
You do know what to say. But, the knot inside your tummy starts tightening again, and the overwhelming amount of pleasure isn’t too much. You can take it. Daniel rocks down to kiss you, but you’re too out of it to exactly figure out how to make your lips work, and his eyes shine. He moves to bite at your neck, you feel him speaking against your skin and it takes a few listens to realize he saying, “I love you,” over and over again. His thrusts get choppier and you know he’s close when his hand slips down to play with your clit. This orgasm feels different than the first. It feels like it burns your nerve endings with just how powerfully pleasurable it is. You can vaguely feel Daniel collapse against you as he rides out his climax, but you’re more concerned with the absolute ecstasy you find yourself floating in.
You blink a few times and you fail to adequately process what’s going on around you. You feel Daniel pull out of you, rubbing soothingly along your hips and thighs as he massages any soreness away. You can’t make out his words, but they sound warm and loving making you feel light and fluffy. You don’t recall him moving from the bed, but he suddenly has a warm rag pressed against your inner thighs to clean you up, and your ruined panties are gone. When he tries to wipe against your cunt, you slam your legs shut, jerking away from him. He doesn’t force your legs back open, but he eventually manages to clean up enough of your wetness that he’s comfortable to wait until you’re clear-minded. 
Daniel pulls you onto his lap and continues murmuring words of affection into the air, you feel them vibrate through his chest. You begin to rise out of whatever state you were in and shift in his lap, “Danny,” you try to speak, but your voice cracks roughly. He’s quick to grab a bottle of water on the nightstand and opens it for you, helping you drink as your arms are still too shaky. 
“When did you grab the water?” you question softly, you down nearly the entire bottle, and move to snuggle back into his chest, bringing your shaky hand up to trace his tattoos. 
“You don’t remember?” Daniel questions calmly, watching as you shake your head in dissent, “I think you were a little out of it after that orgasm. You melted into the bed—I couldn’t get you to say anything.”
“Oh,” you offer, looking up at him to read his face. You find nothing but love, so you figure it can’t be a bad thing.
“Do you know what subspace is?”
“No?”
Daniel nods understandingly and changes the subject, “I got this piece of cake for you earlier at the store. Can you eat it for me now and drink a little more water, baby? I’ll put on that crime show you like too.”
You agree to eat and drink as long as Daniel does too. Your hand shakes as you try to bring the fork to your mouth so you let Daniel feed you, he seems more than happy to do it for you. You kind of like it anyway, him taking care of you. You feel like your normal self halfway through the second episode of the show playing on the TV. You slide off of Daniel’s lap to sit beside him and focus on the show, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs, the plot of the show finally being processed by your brain.
“I’m going to go grab something from the living room, okay?” Daniel checks in on you, waiting for you to answer affirmatively, “Finish up that cake for me, love.”
You hum, grabbing the container from him and continuing to munch along as Daniel does what he needs to. He reenters the room with one of the boxes you had packed away. Daniel doesn’t look at you, he just opens up the box and starts putting all your belongings back to where they used to be. He pulls one of your heavier sweaters out of the box and moves to hang it up in the closet.
“No,” you say, voice scratchy. You watch Daniel turn to face you slowly like he thinks you’re going to tell him that you’re still leaving, 
“That sweater doesn’t belong in the closet. It gets folded and placed in the bottom row of the dresser.”
Daniel sighs relieved and smiles at you, “Okay. What about this one too, where does that go?”
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorrari @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25 @landoslutmeout @love-simon
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© httpsserene 2023
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thesummerpetrichor · 2 days
Text
𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾:
𝒪𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈
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Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader
Summary: Its been five months since you started sleeping together, and you're having second thoughts about your "relationship" with Javier. But what does it matter to him? he hasn't even kissed you yet. 🍒 Continuation of “Off to the Races” and “Your Face is Shameless” but can be read alone.
Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, thicc age gap [Javi is in his 40s reader is in her early 20s], mentions of anxiety, major angst, situationship, guilt, unrequited love, self loathing, kissing [they did it!], Javier is emotionally unavailable, petnames, major dom/sub dynamic [dd/lg ish vibes], mean!Javi then soft!dom!Javi, degradation, dumbification, minor objectification, major size kink [Javi is bigger than and can lift reader], praise kink [finally some good girl action], daddy kink, choking, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral [f receiving], unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if i missed anything 🫶
Word count: 5.4K
A/N: Hello!! I'm back!! thought it would be fitting to revisit these two post hiatus. Sorry in advance for the emotional torture that is about to ensue, but I couldn't help myself. Big thank you to @pixelsandothernonsense for being a big supporter of these two and fuelling their return on the blog time and time again. Lotsa plot, lotsa porn– as always. Hope you enjoy, nasties. Mwah
🍒Off to the races 🍒Your face is shameless 🍒Masterlist
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You wanted it to be easy but it’s difficult. You wanted it to be over, but it was not. 
While Colombia seemed to be all fun and games at first sight, the longer you remained stuck in the American embassy’s city centre building the more you longed for home. 
Your research was hitting a roadblock, and things were hard. Funding was running out, and your professors were running away. Better jobs, better prospects. But your degree was the least cause for your troubles. 
You were smart. You were controlled. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you got yourself involved with Javier Peña. It seemed fun at the moment- fooling around, messing with a man double your age and four times more qualified. Trying to wrangle his true intentions out from under his furrowed brow and frown. 
Looking back you felt stupid. Embarrassed. A little ashamed of what you had become. How you let him treat you. 
He used you like a walking sex doll. Didn’t give you one look afterwards. Maybe a pat on the back but somehow that was more insulting. He had never kissed you. And there you were, fixing your makeup in the office bathroom after an evening under his desk had ruined it. 
It had been five months since the first time he'd bent you over his desk but you were only half way through your trip. Five more months seemed too long to bear. It made you sick. 
You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and sleepy and your clothes weren’t crisp as usual. You felt a little bit like the tissue you’d just dabbed against your cheek. A little flimsy and a little dirty. A little used, perhaps. 
It felt a little worse knowing it was all your doing. You weren’t expecting a man like Javier to change. Objectively, it wasn’t possible. But you still asked for more. For him to use and then forget about you. You wanted to leave. You wished he’d never seen this side of you. Frankly you wished you hadn’t either. 
Because you were smart and funny and interesting and could talk about all sorts of things. You liked music and books and movies and trying new food. But he’d never seen you that way. He never would. 
You hadn’t spoken to him once. Not about anything that wasn’t strictly utilitarian. Especially not after he started fucking you. It was far too awkward and far too intimate. 
For him. 
Your feelings flip flopped every day, from the casualty of the affair seeming rather appealing, to it making your chest ache. And yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself, unable to understand not only what this thing you had going on with Agent Peña was, but why you couldn't seem to stop. 
Five months camping out in the office and you hadn’t missed a single day. No matter how bad the hurt in your chest you rolled out of bed and reminded yourself of why you were where you were. It worked. It hurt, but it worked. 
But after five months it seemed like getting out of bed was suddenly impossible one morning and you thought it best to stay home. You got a few calls. One from Fiestl and Van Ness. Connie Murphy sent Steve over with soup when she heard you weren’t feeling well. 
No news from Javi Peña. 
You slept most of the day. With your computer shut and materials put away. You didn’t want to think about it. You fixed yourself dinner- instant noodles, and headed to bed once again. 
You thought it was temporary but the excruciating pain only lingered and carried you on to another day confined to the four walls of your bedroom. 
It was a bad idea- ignoring your work for as long as you did. You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to put it on the back burner- considering the neurosis surrounding your work, the fact you took a two day break was impressive. It wasn’t long before your anxiety was eating away at you, an impending deadline hanging over your head and reminding you the world didn't care about your little pity party. 
Stupid as it was, you found yourself crossing the street at the witching hour of 23:00- clad in the soft cotton dress you forced yourself into earlier that evening. The friday night had persuaded everyone out of the office, and you weren’t surprised when you found the top floor of the embassy building cold and empty. 
You were glad, and perhaps it was the only way you could stomach being there– alone. 
Your desk was exactly how you’d left it a couple of days ago- your books piled in one corner, papers thrown all over the place. It was disorganised and untidy– very unlike you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you began to sort things out, a feeling of complete exhaustion and defeat threatening to force you into your office chair. You glanced over at Javier’s office, signs he was out for the week prompting the slight relaxation of your shoulders. 
When you finally sat down to get to work, your eyes couldn't help but flutter shut every few moments, the screen of your computer zoning in and out of your vision every now and then. The words seemed to escape you, four lines on your document all you could manage before you were pressing your forehead against the wood of your desk. 
After spending the past two days sleeping somehow all you wanted to do was climb right back into bed. 
Music, surely that would help! Or at least you thought, to no avail, a whole album played once, yet you could only manage another paragraph. Turns out burnout was real.. and it had decided now was the best time to get you. But you weren’t ready to pack up and banish yourself to your studio apartment just yet. So you upped the volume, and sat up just a little bit straighter in your chair, and got back to work. 
Something about the loneliness of working in that drab, white, characterless office was especially miserable. So miserable in fact it was almost comforting, it was so miserable it was funny. It wasn't long before you were sitting completely straight in that sad, uncomfortable office chair, laughing at yourself with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. You were stupid, and acted silly, and had all these big feelings, but what did it matter? It was diabolical; the capacity Javier had for ruining your life, but soon enough you’d be out of here and one day you’d probably be laughing at the whole ordeal. 
It was exhausting, but what could you do? The words came just a little bit easier from that point, and you felt yourself accept defeat and immersed yourself in your paper. At the end of the day you couldn’t control how he felt about you- you just had to take it or leave it. Not everything is that deep, you rolled your eyes at yourself, but you knew truthfully the lack of his care and affection was more than a little sting. You decided you were better off defining the “relationship” for yourself, and maybe showing a little bit more restraint. Who said everything had to be that serious, maybe you should've taken a page out of Javier’s book! 
Yes that was it, not everything was that serious, was it?
You really wished you’d had the foresight to gauge the stupidity of trying to drown out your surroundings in a public space in the middle of the night. Sure, no external threat could get you inside the excessively secure embassy building, but what did that mean when the real threat to your sanity was the DEA attache. 
Truth be told, you'd have jumped in fear if anyone had tapped their fingers on your computer screen, but when Javier rounded your desk with a raised brow and waved his hand in front of your computer, you were particularly startled. 
“The hell are you doing here?” 
Any other time you’d probably met him with a snappy reply, something to get him going, maybe rile him up enough till he was pressing your face against your papers and fucking you from the back. You wished you could have given him that response that day, but you were so completely out of yourself, you settled for a shrug and a normal “trying to finish this section”. 
“That why you disappeared these past two days?”
“I wish.. probably would have been done by now.” His brows kit, somewhat confused and just noticing your tired, puffy eyes now that he was closer. 
“When’s it due.” he leaned to sit on your table , and traced your features with his fingers. You felt your eyes flutter shut as the tip of his index ran along the bridge of your nose, and feared your new policy was at risk of being thrown right out of the window at his attention. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. Unhappy, but unable to resist it. “Next week.”
He pitched your damp cheeks between his fingers, gently shaking your head from side to side. “You've got time.” 
You hummed and took a moment to look up at him- yellow table lamp doing his golden features all sorts of favours, ones that he didn't even need to begin with if you were being honest.The weight of his hand, the roughness of his skin against yours had a soft sigh escaping your lips. 
Javier's hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to the back of your neck, and he gently guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you helped yourself up long enough to watch him rise beside you, stepping closer. He stepped around you, positioning himself between yourself and the chair, his breath warm against your ear. 
"Sit," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hand moved to the back of your neck again, this time pulling you down onto his lap. The gesture was possessive, not tender. 
You obeyed, lowering yourself onto him,  your legs on either side of his waist, dangling off the seat. Javier's hands rested on your waist momentarily, heavy and harsh, before drifting lower to your hips, pulling you further into his lap till you could feel his bulge swell against you. You felt yourself get wet, he lifted your hips and then pulled you back down against him, allowing you the slight relief of the friction as you felt yourself embarrassingly throb against him. 
The proximity was suffocating, his scent—cigarettes, and aftershave. He leaned closer, and for a moment, in your delusion, you thought he might kiss you. Instead his fingers squeezed around your throat, breath fanning your lips. “You want to be daddy’s good girl, dontch’ya?” his voice was low, and biting, and you knew you were in for it, for avoiding him, when he tightened his grip at your lack of answer. 
Slick pooled in your panties, and he let you press your hot core against him, undoubtedly able to feel how easily he could unravel you. You shifted your gaze up at the ceiling to avoid his own. 
You squeaked out a feeble “yes”, already delirious. “Then why the fuck, did you think you could disappear without telling me?” He reached for the string that held together the top of your dress, rather aggressively tugging it undone, watching as it unravelled and revealed the soft cotton of your lingerie. “Busy” you whined when traced your skin with his pointer finger, palm coming to squeeze at your breast and then pull your bra aside. 
“Not looking too busy now, are ya?” your nipple pebbled under his palm, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses along your neck. You whimpered, reaching to tangle your fingers in Javier’s hair. Surprisingly, he let you tug on his locks, allowing you to ground yourself as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud. He came up to nip at your jaw and you whimpered  a soft “M’ sorry”. 
“What was that?” Javier rolled his eyes and growled in your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth, and pinching the flesh of your thighs, prompting you to speak up. And speak up you did, heat seeping into your panties at his tone and words. He didn’t respond to you, just hummed his assent and pulled you harder against him. 
His hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and his big arms crossed under you to support your weight. Continuing to kiss along your neck he plopped you on the table, but you couldn’t lie, you much preferred being carried so gently in his hold. Thank god the desk had been cleared– giving him enough room to push you back against it. You didn't really want to unwrap your legs from around him, but he grunted disapprovingly before prying your legs from his waist. Your heart jumped as he took a seat on your dingy rolly chair, his large palms lifting your legs by your calves till your feet were planted on his thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows. 
Javier's eyes caught sight of your untied shoelace, a small hazard in the midst of your hurried night. As usual, without a word, he leaned down, fingers deftly working to tie the lace in a swift, fluid motion, securing the bow with a final, firm tug, patting the top of your shoe before returning to the task at hand. 
His eyes were hungry like they always were, deep brown, alluring, the only readable emotion in them- lust. Those large palms parted your knees, making space for you between them. A tingle ran up your spine when he brushed the tips of his fingers against the inside of your thigh, dragging them along your skin till he was toying with the hem of your panties. He shifted forward in the chair, meeting your eyes as he planted a kiss on your calf, and then hoisted your legs up on his shoulders. 
Javier took a moment to admire you, letting his rough hands roam under your skirt. You always wondered what those hands were doing; how they wrapped around his gun when he ran out of the office with it, how small they made the cigarette he was smoking look. You watched him grab, and hold, and type from across your desk when he hadn’t fucked you in a day or two, imagined those hands grabbing at your flesh and wrapping around your throat. You imagined him pumping his fingers in and out your pussy with your own hands between your legs in the middle of the night- unable to go mere days without him fucking you, salivating at the thought of those hands wrapped around his thick cock, wondering if he too couldn’t go without your touch. 
Lost in your thoughts you shuddered when you felt him drag his tongue up the cut of your slit, the already moist fabric of your panties sticking to your skin as he nudged your clit with his nose. Your head fell back involuntarily, and you felt your arms ache as you continued to struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows. Seemingly, he had decided that day he wasn’t going to make you work for it- you looked like you were working far too much already. 
“Look at me.” Javier sharply instructed from between your legs. Nipping the inside of your right thigh till you yelped in his hold. You weren't going to last very long at the sight of him, eyes glancing up at you as his mouth ghosted over your soaked pussy. You watched intently as his fingers pulled your panties aside, softly grazing your swollen flesh in a way that had you pulling your lip between your teeth to contain the pornographic moan that threatened to spill from your mouth and alert the security guard across the hall. 
Your leg twitched on his shoulder as he licked a long, firm stripe up your aching pussy. Both your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue softly explored your folds. The sight of Javier between your legs was enough to send you over the edge, one that would live in your head for a very long time. 
You struggled to hold his eyes with your own when he licked at your entrance, increasing his pace ever so slightly before he was softly sucking your clit into his mouth. Letting yourself lean back against the table you reached to continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, hoping he'd let you have his fluffy locks in your hold. Turns out you were lucky the first time, because as was more common, Javier reminded you of his “no grabbing at daddy” attitude by grasping your hand in his. 
“No grabbin at daddy, babygirl” he murmured against your wetness and you shivered. His fingers engulfed yours, stroking your skin and moving your hands to your chest. His large palm covered yours and squeezed your fingers around your breasts. You moaned, and arched your back against the table up into both your palms as his tongue achingly slipping inside you. 
The feel of his mouth against you was more than perfect, the way he expertly ate you out till you were wiggling your hips against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. Slow and soft then faster and rough, just how he knew you liked it. 
He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of you just as much,  groaning against your wet cunt everytime you twitched and shuddered against him, the taste of you prompting him only to bury himself deeper between your thighs, pull and grab at your hips, hold you close against him as your chest rose and fell. 
Javier lashed his tongue at your entrance, then plunged it into your slick cunt. You felt your core tighten, and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Please…” barely able to complete your sentence you squealed when he circled your clit with his tongue. You could feel him grin against the inside of your thigh, and you reached for his hands on your hips to tug at his fingers feebly. 
Making out the sound of his chuckle over your heavy breathing you whined, and then proceeded to melt in his hold when he responded with a rather gentle, yet delayed and somewhat playfully annoyed “You can come for daddy, babygirl.” 
The grip of your fingers on his tightened, and you sighed, finally letting go as Javier worked between your legs. Your cunt clamped down on his tongue as he finished you off, licking you through your orgasm and holding your hips down as you shook and squirmed above him. 
He kissed along your seam gently as you caught your breath, your breath hitching when he pushed two fingers in your still sensitive cunt to gently stroke your walls. He stifled a groan. You looked down between your legs as he withdrew those fingers and began to stand up. “She so fuckin wet for me, hmm?” He rubbed slow, soft circles on your clit, not caring to watch you intently for any giveaway that would instruct him on the perfect rhythm. He already knew what you liked- he didn’t need to bother. “Slutty little pussy achin’ to be fucked… after all these days, aint she?” 
He took a second to get a good look at you as he moved closer between your legs, and you propped yourself back up on your elbows and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in. 
“My good little slut” 
Bringing his fingers to your lips he urged them open, pushing in and watching you suck gently on his digits. You shivered at the taste of your own arousal. As always you felt a little fuzzy when he did something like that– letting your eyes droop until he nudged you to release them with a pop. He ran those fingers across your lips, watching you struggle to keep your eyes on him as his hand drifted downwards to wrap swiftly around your neck.  “That's better isn't it?” he pressed his clothed cock against your bare, swollen pussy, your panties surely on the verge of ripping the way they’d been pulled aside. Javier seemed to be thinking along the same lines as you, because in a moment he reached for them and urgently dragged them down your hips, unwrapping himself from your hold and holding your ankles in one hand as the other slid your panties all the way off of you. 
When you whined at the loss of his body against yours he tutted, raising his eyebrows at you in warning. 
He then grabbed your thigh with his hand once again, squeezing it and holding it in place against his waist. You heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it. A rough edge on said belt scraped against your skin, but it was difficult to pay attention to it when you felt him reach between your bodies to tease your dripping slit with his length. 
It was sad to admit, but nothing took the weight of your shoulders much like the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your wet pussy, head bumping your clit till you were shivering and then notching at your entrance. You heard him mutter a strained curse under his breath at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. Javier didn't waste much time, as much as he seemed to enjoy the sight of you deliriously wiggling your hips under him. 
He leaned down and traced the curve of your jaw with the bridge of his nose, breathing in your scent as he pushed in– slowly and gently. Much slower and gentler than he had ever been before. Your legs tightened around him, hips lifting pathetically as you felt him stretch you open. It had been far too long since you’d had him inside you. 
“Such a good little girl..” His hips snapped towards yours. 
“Aren’t ya?” It was an out of body experience, so overwhelming and dizzying you could almost see yourself in the act. Your brain couldn’t comprehend that tone and that gentleness as is, forget when Javier’s cock dragged deliciously against your aching walls. 
Your elbows caved from under you, letting you fall completely back against your little desk. Your head went to fall back soon after, but Javier had managed to snake his hand behind your neck– cradling your head and shielding it from the hard wooden table. Instinctively, you buried your nose in the collar of his dress shirt. He let you seek respite, palm holding you against his warm body, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. 
Your skin felt like pins and needles, little sparks bounced off your exposed waist and prompted you to wiggle your hips away from him at the intensity of the sensations. “Nah uh” yanking you back in his direction Javier squeezed your hips in his hands, refusing to let you escape the death grip he had on your body, pulling you towards him with every deep, slow, thrust. 
“Silly little thing” He laughed against your lips, so close they brushed against you. You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell slack against his. He took your bottom lip between his teeth. He releases it as your walls clench around him, brows knitting at the feel of your warm, soft cunt around his cock. 
“Mine aren’t ya? Daddy’s good little slut?” Unable to catch hold of anything on the table, your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers twisting the fabric as you gripped it as tightly as you could. He let you pull him towards you, one hand sneaking between your bodies to grab and squeeze at your breast. 
“Then you’re gonna take it like I give it to ya?” You tried to nod, head lulling side to side and mouth hanging open, desperate noises leaving your lips. When your back arched against the table he  pulled you into his chest, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so tightly you felt the leather of his belt cut into your soft skin. 
Eventually he picked up his pace, and you could make out the sound of your pens clattering to the ground as your back moved relentlessly against the desk. The dim grey flood light above you came in and out of your focus, the heat that swelled up inside you hindering your ability to concentrate on absolutely anything.  “Getting all cock drunk on me..” Anything but him. Yet another orgasm stirred in your tummy, your entire body hot and tingling with overwhelm. “There’s my good girl”. 
He pulled you into him with every thrust, his hard length throbbing inside of you. “Just how I like ya’– no thoughts in that head’ve yours.” Your bare chest pressed against his soft shirt, but you longed to feel the heat of his body against your skin. 
“Can't think ‘bout anything but daddy can you?” he managed to laugh, his thick cock dragging against your wet walls in a way that had your mouth falling open in a gasp. “Just daddy, ain't that right?” As usual he grabbed at every part of you he could, hands seeking purchase on any exposed skin. 
He grazed your earlobe with his teeth as he spoke. “Poor baby, going dumb on daddy.” All you could do was whine. “Can’t hear ya..” you whimpered again, strained and hasty “yes”s leaving your mouth at record speed as the tension in your core threatened to burst. 
“S’ how it should be” your dress made it easy for you to slide along the surface of the table as he fucked into your tight, wet heat, railing you as you twitched around him. You struggled to form a broken “daddy” between your lips. 
“Stupid little girl can’t do anything but be daddy’s little sexdoll hmm?” you shook your head, but he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “‘S okay babylove, s’ how daddy likes ya best” he shook your face gently, “when ya ain't runnin that smart mouth of yours.” 
He grunted and sighs above you, seemingly lost in his own pleasure, not bothering for the first time to make you beg. It was as if the two days you spent apart had him prioritising other things. “Better this way isn’t it, nothin you gotta worry that pretty head about…” you felt your cunt squeeze him. “Not when daddy’s fuckin’ ya’” 
You could tell he was close by the way his thick cock throbbed against your slick walls, the way his Texan accent came through just a little more than it usually did. Your thighs quivered against his waist as the heat continued to pool in your belly. 
You knew he was close when he straightened up again, hands wrapping firmly around your throat as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over. “C’mon baby, be a good girl and come for daddy” he tightened his grip, thumb reaching up to swipe gently at your slack lips. 
You felt your pussy clench around his cock, finally letting go as you writhed under him. You heard him groan over the ringing in your ears, your own eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolled over you in waves. You gushed around him, your own release prompting his. 
Watching his brows knit as his thrusts got sloppy might have well sent you on a second release, aftershocks making your hips wiggle against his palms as he squeezed them, his cock throbbing inside you before he erupted with a shudder. A string of strained curses escaped his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his high. 
You laid there, the heat from your exertion slowly dissipating. You felt Javier pull out, his spend trickling down your thighs, and slide your panties back up over your legs. A heaviness tugged at your limbs and made your eyelids droop. Every muscle felt loose, languid, as if all the tension and energy had been drawn out, leaving behind only a deep, satisfying fatigue. 
Javier put his hands on your waist and lifted you off the table, you returned to your habitual silence, this time albeit far more satiated than before. You were dizzy, feeling like a small ghost floating in front of him, engulfed by his towering form. The world around you began to fade, sounds muffling and blurring into an indistinct background hum.
Every blink became slower, your vision narrowing to slits before closing entirely. You let yourself drift into that warm state between sleep and wakefulness, the exhaustion of the week catching up to you in more ways than one, uncaring of the sense that Javier’s eyes had been lingering. You felt him trace the bridge of your nose, reducing any prospects of you actually getting off that desk. 
He fixed your lingerie and tied the bow of your dress back up, one hand returning to stroke your cheek. His other arm came to support your back as it wrapped around you, pulling you towards him. You looked up to find him watching you, with an expression you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment. 
You couldn’t help but fall into his chest as he stood above you, his arms reaching behind you as he packed your things in your work bag. You felt your eyes flutter shut again, complete exhaustion taking over your weak form. He placed a kiss to your temple, lifting you off the table once and into his hold once again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking securely at the ankles. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your flesh.
You felt cold again suddenly, and Javier readjusted his arms to hold you with his right while his left rubbed along your shoulders to warm up your skin, prickled with goosebumps. 
Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a comforting, rhythmic lull. You nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, tilting your head till your nose was brushing the cut of his jaw. 
Javier shifted slightly, and you could feel the subtle change in his posture as he leaned towards you, and his face came level with yours– you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. His hand cradled your cheek. 
With your eyes still closed you felt his lips press gently against yours, so pillowy and soft you barely registered them. He tasted how you’d imagined so many times before– cigarettes, and whiskey. Melting into his touch your hands moved to ball the fabric of his shirt gently in your fist. His lips moved against your’s with a carefulness you couldn’t really understand, but the fact that they were at all was enough. Exhaustion aside, you had a feeling the triviality of the whole ordeal, its comfort and normality seemed expected. And just as quickly as it began, it was over.
Perhaps it had always meant a lot more to you, than it did to him. 
The hand that was cupping your cheek pinched it and then snaked around your waist to help you find your footing on the ground, the same hand coming down to slap your ass as he pushed you towards the door. 
In usual Javier fashion he checked his phone, uninterestedly murmuring a soft “you can start again tomorrow” as you stood in the elevator. He let you lean against him, his palm coming down to pat your head momentarily before it was back to sorting the files in his hands.  You looked up at him, his mind now completely diverted to whatever he had come to collect in the office in the first place, so unbothered by what seemed to transpire between the two of you. 
Perhaps nothing really did. 
You wished his words gave you some motivation, but it was turning out to be really difficult to want to be anything more than his dumb, silly, little girl. 
Who else is gonna put up with me this way?
I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!
They would rue the day I was alone, without you
You're lyin' with your gold chain on
Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"
"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"
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sakjdlakd I'm sorry I just can't let them be happy lmao. Hope you enjoyed this, and let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who reblogs and comments on my content, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @/sardika 🐝✨💗
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maculategiraffe · 20 hours
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been thinking about how the baby uses the word "love"
he says it with great emphasis and weight. about people ("I love you, auntie mac") and also about activities ("I love making cheesy rice with you, auntie mac"). he will repeat it multiple times over the course of the activity, as if he feels it is important to establish. he will sometimes say it about objects but I feel like it's usually more about an experience he's associating with the object ("I love [riding] my scooter"). same with places-- he will say "I love school" but he means the experience, not the building.
(he doesn't really seem to have much attachment to objects as objects-- we all tried for awhile to find a doll or stuffed animal or blanket or something that would work as a transitional / comfort object, but he doesn't seem to get emotionally invested in objects like that. books are for reading, toys are for playing with, blankets are for pretending to be a ghost. if he's not doing the related activity, the thing doesn't interest him.)
recently his little cousin had come over to play and we were all playing musical instruments and singing, first "old macdonald had a farm" and then on to "the ants go marching." the baby was feeling kind of emotionally raw because it was his naptime and when we struck up a third song ("twinkle twinkle little star") the baby put down his ukulele and said a little tearfully "I love 'old macdonald.'" meaning that he really just wanted to sing it again
then another time he was at my house and my mom texted and said my cousin was coming over to their house and to bring the baby over to see him. and again the baby was feeling kind of emotional (post nap, hungry) and he said "I don't want to see uncle [cousin]"
and I said "how come?" and he thought about it for a minute and then said "I don't love uncle [cousin]"
and I wasn't sure if it was like... an actual antipathy or what, so I said "do you not like him? or do you just mean he's not one of the people you are the very most comfortable around?" and he said "I just mean he's not one of de people I am the very most comfortable around"
I think he uses "I love" very deliberately to identify things (people, activities) he finds restorative. comforting, engaging, fulfilling. not things that are exciting and stimulating but also tiring (like parties and other special occasions, or the zoo, or the transportation museum), but things and people that make him feel happy and safe and also better, if he's not feeling so great to begin with.
and when he says "I love [whatever]" it's like he's making a note. adding it to a mental catalogue, and encouraging me (or whoever he's with) to do so as well. like "for future reference, I love this"
and he keeps the mental catalogue for other people too. he'll say "mommy loves hummingbirds" or "let's watch sword in the stone. you love sword in the stone"
keeping meticulous track of what sparks joy. love that 💖
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Thank you for your service to the ghoul fucker community 🫡🤠
You mentioned that you have more headcanons for the Ghoul, can you share them with us? NSFW or SFW it is up to you
SFW Cooper Howard/The Ghoul Headcanons 2
(Follow-up to the SFW Prewar!Coop headcanons I posted here.)
I've said this before, but I firmly believe that this man doesn't sleep. Based on what we've seen about ghouls over the course of the franchise, I think that food, water, and sleep are basically optional; something that helps them feel and run better, but not things they can't survive without. With sleep comes vulnerability, both physical vulnerability and the vulnerability of being subjected to dreams. Cooper doesn't want to dream. His unconscious brain isn't nearly as good at shoving all the unpleasant things he doesn't want to think about down as his conscious brain is. The only true "sleep" he gets is when he's been knocked unconscious, whether that be by some enemy of the Wasteland or by one too many substances. He still will typically pick a spot to stop for 5-6 hours a night, put his feet up, get a little extra intoxicated. Sometimes he rests his eyes and feigns sleep when things feel especially calm.
He is a YAPPER! I've seen so many people theorize that for season 2 Lucy is gonna talk The Ghoul's ear off on their walk to New Vegas...I respectfully disagree. Have you ever met an old man? They never shut the fuck up at the best of times and this one has been without real companionship for so long; now that he's got an audience, he's never without something to say. I mean, the man was fancy waterboarding Lucy and standing there monologuing about some shit he read in the newspaper 200 years ago because he's lonely.
This man will absolutley start falling in love with you if you get ANY of his jokes or weird little references he makes to shit that hasn't existed in forever. Even if that's the first time he has positive feelings towards you, he's officially on that path. It would be a moment of genuine human connection, the kind he hasn't felt in so long. Even if it's innocuous, the poor thing is immediately gonna be a little obsessed with you.
Have fun if he DOES start falling in love with you, because initially it'll make him even more unpleasant than he usually is. He's confused at first, then he's annoyed by it when he realizes what he's feeling. He's gone this long without having to deal with that on top of everything else. Both emotions come with a hearty side of frustration and anger, as well as a general defensiveness you won't be able to wrap your brain around until his (reciprocated) feelings eventually come to light.
Marriage doesn't really exist in the same form he knew before, but if he was serious about you, he'd still wanna marry you. Depending on where you come from, whether you're a vault dweller or not, you might not even fully understand what he's asking when he proposes (which he would definitely still scrounge up a ring for, by the way; it wouldn't feel right to him if he didn't give you one). He takes it just as seriously as he took it the first time, and he's determined to be the husband he knows he's capable of being to you.
Not a headcanon so much as a musing, I suppose, but hear me out: what if the duster he wears is from the first person he ever cannibalized (or something similar)? Much to wonder about.
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wip · 3 days
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AH ANOTHER ONE, POST LIMITS!!!!!
I don't know why we're still only using 250 posts per day across all blogs. I hit this SO often and it's extremely frustrating. Are there plans to raise this???? Double it to 500?? Make it 250 PER BLOG at least???
Something that isn't just roughly ten posts an hour, which can go by extremely fast when you're trying to support artists and various crowdfunding efforts. There's not even a way to increase post limit with an ad free subscription, this seems like something that doesn't need to stay the way it is and i feel like we should talk about this and figure out a better number.
I get how limits help fight back against spam, but last week i kept hitting post limit early in the day because the counter resets at 9pm for me - so all of my late night posts + everything that piled up in the queue since i was blocked all day before 9pm gives me significantly less room to work with the next day. I am not spam, i am a human being, and doing regular organic activity is getting me driven off the site!!! the way this feels is like do you want us on here or not lol?? why are we being punished for finding it engaging, I do not think 250 is a reasonable limit.
250posts/24hrs is 10.4 posts an hour, and is all you have to work with regardless of how many other side blogs you maintain. There's not even a way to see how many posts you have left for the day, I think post limit needs addressing!!!! or at least some kind of acknowledgement to start!! 250 forever just does not make sense
Answer: Hi there, @cinna-bunnie!
A little tease for y’all, because we just can’t help it—we hear you loud and clear. We are working on this, and we think you should stay tuned.
👀
You’ll know more soon, and we like to think you might like what you see. Have a great day, and keep the questions coming, folks.
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butch-reidentified · 2 days
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Pitching New Terminology: GLAP (Gamete-Linked Anatomy and Physiology)
A little while back, I remember seeing someone on here talk about 2nd wave feminist attempts to coin new terminology/alter existing terms as part of their feminism ("herstory" and "womyn" for example) + my wife and I have been talking a ton for a few months now about how language can feel so limiting, as counterintuitive as most people likely would find that. One of the things my wife brought up is that it bothers and bewilders her that "sex" can refer to biological categories, to the state of being male or female, but can also mean intercourse. She said this feels very male to her, and thinks that this word being used to mean both of these things (both of which are very charged concepts with heavy connotations - but only because of patriarchy) is not only unnecessary, but arguably harmful to the feminist cause as well.
Not only that, but sex (as in maleness/femaleness) is itself very much in contention these days - its existence itself is challenged in addition to its definition and the parameters of its categories. Even outside of gender identity ideology (GII) and the conversation surrounding transgender identities, there is a fair amount of inconsistency in what exactly people think makes a human being male or female, be it large or small gamete production, the presence of either a penis or a vagina, some sort of checklist-like combination of sex characteristics, karyotype, hormone dominance, the infamous pseudoscientific "brain sex," or something else.
I agree with Dr. Rashad Rehman's succinct statement that "sex is defined by gamete production," from his paper (which I've posted on several previous occasions and you can read at this link) refuting both GII and the catholic church regarding human sex biology & intersex conditions. As I've said countless times on this blog and he says in his paper, this manner of categorizing human beings as male or female does not require successful production of large or small gametes. Rather, it defines a human being's sex according to which of two overall developmental pathways their body follows; has your body (your anatomy and your physiology, as referenced in the GLAP acronym's A and P) developed around the "intention," so to speak, of producing large gametes or small gametes?
This is what led to the acronym GLAP (for "Gamete-Linked Anatomy and Physiology"), which I introduced in a recent reblog. She and I coined this term together to offer a more precise, better delineated alternative to "[biological] sex," and an alternative bearing zero denotative or connotative relationship to sexual intercourse.
By not only defining sex in relation to gametes, but placing the very word "gamete" at the literal forefront of the term itself, GLAP leaves little room for debate or misunderstanding when it comes to discussions of maleness and femaleness in human beings. The importance of this is well-stated in Dr. Rehman's paper, particularly in the following section containing two quotes from the writings of MIT philosophy professor Alex Byrne. The first of these two quotes references Brown-educated feminist scientist (and GNC lesbian!) Dr. Anne Fausto-Sterling, and the second cites Simone de Beauvoir's "The Second Sex."
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[Please let me know if image description is needed; screen reader test worked on my end, but who knows?]
We believe this terminology has the potential to combat misinformation surrounding human biology as well as to open doors within the discourse pertaining to GII and transgender issues. We suspect - and hope - that removing the word "sex," thus removing the messiness that tends to come along with the word, could perhaps reduce tensions and reactivity in order to allow for conversations to be had that otherwise would rapidly escalate or be avoided entirely. Additionally, introducing a new term like this requires providing an explanation of its meaning and purpose, the process of which we believe will help facilitate such conversations. We also feel that the novelty and hint of silly-sounding-ness could support the goal of reducing the tension and emotional charge currently embedded in gender discourse.
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lee-laurent · 2 days
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Summer Boy Pt. 2 - Quinn Hughes
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Summary: Quinn and Elwyn find themselves caught in a web of lies as they attempt to hide their feelings from their friends. Luke, however, still wants the girl and he's willing to overlook his morals to get her.
Content: angst, fluff, (sort of) unrequited love, mentions of sex, slut-shaming, panic attacks, luke being an ass
Part 1
notes: ok ok, you guys are amazing! i could never expect my first post to do that well! (also if you haven't seen my about me post, english is NOT my first language!! so spelling errors and stuff i try catch but i'm learning :)) i had a lot of ppl ask for a part 2, which is awesome cause i was planning on doing it regardless of how much attention the first part got! i haven't written in years, like since high school so this is me attempting to get back into it :D thank you again everyone, much love! - lee
p.s. ppl that asked for part 2 are tagged at the end :))
Quinn was infatuated with Elwyn. Everything she did was perfect in his eyes. Even when she'd get a little too drunk and trip over herself, he still thought she was graceful. If he wasn't in love with her already, then he definitely was now. And he wanted to shout him from the rooftops, he wanted everyone on the lake to know how much he loved Elwyn... however there was a small issue: his brothers.
Jack and Elwyn had been friends their entire lives. They were attached at the hip. Twin flames. Growing up adults always said they'd end up married, which both of them thought was disgusting. Sure, they'd been each others' first kiss, but after "learning" how to make out together they decided it wasn't meant to be. They could never see each other in a romantic light. Although Jack could never be with Elwyn, he had made it clear that his brothers couldn't either. Elwyn had been off limits since they were ten and Quinn gave her a puck at one of his games.
Luke. Where to start with Luke? Luke hadn't found Elwyn cute until she came to visit in Jersey after he signed. She'd walked into Jack's apartment, a smile on her face and he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. When did Elwyn get... hot? She'd always just been his older brother's best friend. Sure, he knew of the crush his eldest brother harboured, but he was positive Quinn would never act on it. Plus, she lived closer to Luke. If he could convince Jack, maybe he'd have a chance. A chance he was still begging for.
"Come on, Jack. Let me take her on one date!" Luke pleaded, following his brother around the pool table.
"No. You're my brother and I love you, but El can do way better."
"I- I'm not going to break her heart, Jack. One date."
"Maybe she doesn't want to date you," Jack shrugged, lining up his shot.
"Okay, then she'll reject me and I can move on. But we all saw her when we played beer pong."
"Don't be cocky, Rusty. El is a touchy drunk, always has been."
"So I can ask her on a date?"
"No."
Luke groaned, throwing his arms up in frustration.
"Who's he not asking out?" Quinn asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Elwyn."
Quinn choked on his spit, "You want to ask out, Winnie?"
"Yeah! You've seen her. She's a smokeshow."
"Ew. Don't talk about El like that," Jack grimaced.
"I mean have you seen her ti-"
"Luke! Ew! Dude."
"Shut up, Jack. If she wasn't your best friend, you'd also think she's hot."
Quinn remained silent, watching the scene unfold. He felt gross listening to Luke talk about Elwyn like that. He'd be the first to admit she was fine as hell, but hearing someone else say it felt wrong. The two younger brothers continued to bicker about the attractiveness of the girl, when Quinn finally piped up.
"Are you letting him?"
"Letting him what?" Jack's brow furrowed.
"Ask her out."
"Hell no! Winnie is off limits for brothers."
"So if I asked her out?" Trevor smirked, joining the three brothers.
"No. That applies to friends and teammates too."
"Lame," Trevor whined, leaving to find Cole.
Jack rolled his eyes, "Anyway. No one is asking out Elwyn. She doesn't even like hockey boys."
Quinn felt his heartdrop. She doesn't like hockey boys? Was she just stringing him along cause she was horny? He thought she liked him, though she'd never explicitly said it, he thought the moments they'd shared were proof enough.
Elwyn was humming along to the song playing from her phone, while she attempted to do her hair. A knock came from the door behind her, leading to press pause on the melodies of Chappell Roan.
"Come in!"
"You don't like hockey boys?"
"Huh?" She swiveled around on her chair to face the boy in her doorway. There stood a sheepish looking Quinn, his arms crossed over his chest.
"I said, 'you don't like hockey boys?'"
"Who told you that?"
"Jack."
"Oh, um, I mean... they're not normally my type."
"So you don't like me?"
"Quinn, I didn't say that. Don't twist my words," she sighed, turning back towards the mirror.
"But you haven't said otherwise."
"Neither have you."
Quinn sighed, quietly shutting the door behind him. He stood behind her and pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder, wrapping his arms around her.
"Elwyn, I like you. I like you a lot."
She pursed her lips and nodded, leaning back into his chest.
"I like you too, Quinn."
"Is this the part where we have the best sex of our lives?" he smirked, earning a gasp and slap to his peck.
"Quinn!"
"Sorry, sorry. So... later?"
"Get out!" she giggled, pushing him away.
Fifteen minutes later, El left her room, running straight into someone's chest.
"Oof."
"Hey, Ellie."
"Oh, hey, Luke," she smiled, stepping back.
"Some of the guys and I are gonna watch a movie, if you want to join."
"Sure."
"Sick. Basement in 10?"
"Sounds good."
However, when she got down to the basement, there were no spots left. The guys had taken up the couch and all the chairs, even the floor was occupied. El looked around awkwardly, noticing the lack of both Quinn and Jack, who she was told went to the grocery store.
"Here," Luke smiled, scooting over slightly. She responded with a tight-lipped smile, sitting "next" to him. It was more like she was sitting on him. El could've sworn she heard Ethan snicker when she sat down.
The movie the boys at chosen was terrifying. Elwyn could normally do scary movies, but this one was getting to her. She jumped as the villain appeared on screen again. Luke wrapped his arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze.
"You okay?"
"Hm? Yeah, I'm good," she smiled politely.
Another jumpscare and Elwyn had fallen completely onto Luke's lap. She wasn't upset about it though, it was comforting in the moment. Dylan had taken notice of the position that Luke was in and elbowed Mark and Ethan. They all "discreetly" turned to look at the two, who looked rather comfortable. Elwyn jumped again, hiding her face in Luke's neck.
"This movie is terrifying," she whispered.
"It's ok, Winnie. I've got you."
It was in that moment that she realized the position she was in. Fully cuddled up on Luke's lap, one of his hands on her waist, the other on her thigh. What would Quinn think if he walked in right now? What would Jack think?
"I need to use the bathroom," she scrambled to get off of Luke.
"Oh, we can pause the movie."
"No, it's okay. I'll, uh, I'll be back."
She ran up the stairs, locking herself in Jack's ensuite. What was she doing? She couldn't let Luke get any ideas. She really liked Quinn. But oh my god, what would Jack think? Would he kick her out? Surely, he'd murder her before his brothers. They were his family, she was replaceable. Maybe she should end things with Quinn. Tell him it wasn't worth the strain it would cause on their relationships with Jack. But then again she'd already done things with him, would Jack even forgive her for that?
"Oh my god. I can't breathe," she gasped, splashing cold water on her face.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Her mind was running a thousand miles an hour. She had to stop seeing Quinn. Maybe she could just avoid him. Jack was more important. She had too. The more she thought about it, the more difficult it became to breathe.
She sat down on the floor, trying her breathing exercise again.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
Finally she felt her heartbeat slow and her breathing return to normal. She wasn't going to let boys ruin her trip with her best friend. Nope. Plan: Avoid Quinn Hughes at All Costs, starts now!
"What did I do?" Quinn mumbled as he watched Elwyn interact with Jack. She hadn't even shot him a smile when he walked in the door from shopping, she'd gone straight to Jack. They were giggling amongst themselves while they cut up fruit for dinner.
She looked just as happy as she had this morning, but now she was pretending he didn't exist. He brushed her shoulder as he walked past her and she flinched, scooting closer to Jack.
As the night progressed, it became more obvious to the boy that she was ignoring him. She hadn't even looked his way once all night. Too busy keeping up with Jack, following him around like a lost puppy. He even tried shooting her a text, which was ultimately left on read.
Q: Hey, is everything okay? You seem off tonight.
Nothing.
It wasn't until she was closing her bedroom door to get changed that he caught a moment alone with her. She shrieked when her door opened, clutching her shirt to chest.
"Oh my god! Have you ever heard of knocking? I'm getting changed!"
"Why have you been ignoring me?"
Elwyn rolled her eyes, turning her back to him. so she could continue getting changed.
"Winnie?"
She exhaled loudly.
"Elwyn?"
"Maybe I just don't want to talk to you, Quinn."
"But- what did I do?"
"I'm trying to get ready for bed."
"El, just talk to me. Please. I thought we were getting somewhere."
She could hear the sadness and disappointment dripping from his words. It made her want to cry, knowing it was her fault he was feeling that way.
"I'd like to go to sleep now."
"El," he reached forward, grabbing her wrist and spinning her to face him. "What is going on? If I did something, I'm sorry."
"We can't, Quinn."
"Wha- we can't what?"
"We can't do this. We can't be together. Fling or not. It's not fair to Jack."
"Not fair to Jack? You shutting me out, isn't fair to me! Not everything revolves around Jack! You're an adult, he doesn't get to make decisions for you!" Quinn seethed, his face heating up.
"Don't yell at me."
"Don't yell at you?! Then don't be Jack's mindless little minion, Elwyn! Jesus fucking Christ!"
"I- I'm not," she whispered, blinking away tears.
"Yeah, well you sure fucking act like you are," he left, slamming the door behind him.
"What was that?!" she heard Jack yell.
"The wind!" Quinn lied, storming off to his room.
Elwyn couldn't hold back her tears anymore, sliding to the floor. She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound. How could he say that to her? She thought she was doing the right thing. She never imagined it could've gone that poorly.
Quinn couldn't sleep, he was too angry. Why did Elwyn let Jack dictate her life? She could be with whoever she wanted, she was a grown woman. So what if Jack was mad at them for a day? He'd get over it. If he could just get her to realize that he was there for her, no matter what happened-
A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts. Elwyn quietly opened and shut the door, sitting herself on the edge of his bed.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I thought I was doing what was right."
"I shouldn't have yelled at you, El. But you have to communicate with me. You can't just shut me out, especially if you want to make this work."
"But what about Jack?"
"Elwyn. He loves you. You're his best friend. He'll get over it. I promise."
"I hate lying to him."
"Keeping a secret isn't lying."
"I just-"
"Come here," he opened his arms, Elwyn climbing into the bed next to him. He kissed her slowly. He wanted to show her how much he cared about her. Loved her even. She ran a hand through his hair, giggling when he nipped at her bottom lip.
"Think we can stay quiet?" she whispered.
"Easily."
"Quinn! Wake up! The boys wanna go out on the boat! And have you seen El? Jack said she isn't in her-" Luke stopped dead in his tracks. A bare back faced him, the sheets barely covering her waist. "Holy shit."
Luke ran down the stairs, taking his place at the table.
"You okay, Rusty? Looks like you've seen a ghost," Trevor joked.
"Hm? Yep. All good. Great even."
"Okay? Did you wake up Quinn?"
"Um... yeah. Yeah. He'll be down soon."
"Did you find El? I'm getting worried," Jack mentioned, sitting next to his brother.
"I-"
"Morning!" Elwyn smiled.
"There you are! You weren't in your room, I was worried," Jack hugged her.
"Yeah, fell asleep in the basement watching TV. Was having trouble falling asleep."
"All good! Glad you're okay. Is Quinn awake up there?"
Luke watched something flicker in her eyes at the mention of Quinn.
"Yep, he's just brushing his teeth."
As if on cue, Quinn came thumping down the stiars. A smile plastered on his face. Luke felt sick. It seemed that Quinn had finally gotten his dream girl, but at the expense of both of his brothers' feelings.
"Sorry, guys. Didn't sleep well," Quinn explained, grabbing some cereal.
"That's funny. Neither did Elwyn," Luke smirked.
"Oh. Funny coincidece," El shrugged, eyes darting everywhere but at the youngest Hughes.
"Must've been something in the air last night," he continued.
El furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What was Luke going on about? Surely he didn't know that she'd slept with Quinn last night? Quinn had assured her they'd been silent. They even put a pillow behind the headboard like teenagers hiding from their parents.
"So... boat day?" Quinn offered, feeling the growing tension in the kitchen
"Yes!" Jack cheered, "Come on, El. I'll help you with your sunscreen."
"Coming," she followed after him, shooting a concerned look at Quinn, who just shrugged in response.
"So, Quinn... anything you want to share with the class?" Luke asked.
"Um? No?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah?"
"Positive? Nothing you want to share about Elwyn?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't pretend you don't know."
"Luke, I don't know what you're implying."
"So, why was Elwyn naked in your bed this morning when I went to wake you up?"
"She wasn't," Quinn replied quickly, maybe too quickly.
"I know Elwyn when I see her, Quinn."
"Luke, I didn't sleep with Elwyn."
"You slept with Elwyn?" Jack's voice joined the conversation and suddenly you could hear a pin drop.
"I-"
"You slept with Elwyn?" Jack repeated, his voice increasing in volume.
"No, I know your rules, Jack."
"He's lying! I saw her in his bed this morning! That's why you couldn't find her!"
"Shut up, Luke!" Quinn sneered.
"No, please continue, Luke. I'd love to know what else Quinn is hiding from me."
"That's it, I think. I just saw her in his bed when I went to wake him up. Looking less than dressed."
"Jack, I don't know what he's talking about," Quinn pleaded.
"Bullshit! I-"
"Why's everyone yelling?" Elwyn's voice was soft compared to the rest of the conversation. Her nails were dug into her palms, surely leaving behind little crescent shaped indents. Worry filled her eyes.
"El..." Quinn breathed.
"Care to explain yourself, Elwyn?" Jack snapped.
"I'm confused."
"Don't act all innocent now when you were spreading your fucking legs for my brother last night!"
"I-"
"You what? Are acting like a slut?! Then yeah, you're right."
"I'm not a slut," her bottom lip quivered. Quinn was quick to get in front of her, feeling the sudden need to protect her from his brother's vicious words.
"She's not a slut, Jack. You don't control her."
Jack was at a loss for words. Quinn was right he didn't control her, but he could still be pissed at his brother.
"Fine, I don't control, Elwyn. She's a grown woman. But you, Quinn, you- you broke my rules! You took advantage of her!"
"How did I 'take at advantage of her'?" he air quoted.
"You-you..."
"You have no argument here, Jack. And you, Luke... what gives you the right to tell him? When you were trying to get with Elwyn too?"
"I'M NOT AN OBJECT!" her outburst made everyone jump, "Stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here! God! You're acting like children! Quinn, give me your car keys?"
"What? Why?"
"I'm going home."
"You're-"
"El, no. Please," Jack pleaded.
"You just called me a slut! You think I want to stay here with you? Ha! You are crazy."
"Babe, please."
"Don't 'babe' me, Quintin. Give me your keys," she demanded, reaching her hand out.
"No. You're angry. You shouldn't drive like this."
"Fine. I'll fucking walk home!" she threw her arms up, storming out the front door.
The group of boys stood around the kitchen staring at the Hughes brothers. Were they not going to go after her? Apologize? Boat day definitely wasn't happening.
It was getting dark out, Quinn and Jack were beyond worried. Jack was pacing the living room, his head snapping to the door every time there was a noise outside. Quinn was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, sending text after text to El. No answers. Luke and their friends were in the back, drinking and pretending all was well.
"Should we go looking for her?" Jack asked.
"I think that'd just scare her off."
"But what if someone snatches her off the street? It's getting dark out. She's been gone all day, Quinn."
"She'll come back."
"Stop pretending like you know her better than I do just because you slept with her! I know my best friend."
"Jack, can we not fight right now? We have more important things to worry about."
Jack just sighed. He was worried about El, but her sleeping with Quinn was still in the background of all his thoughts.
"Can I just ask why? Like was it to rub it in my face? To get back at me for something?"
"It has nothing to do with you, Jack. It's about Elwyn. I really like El. I've liked El since we were kids. And she finally showed me that she feels the same way. I'm- I'm happy with her."
"She- you love her, don't you?"
"It's too soon to say that."
"Quinn..."
"Yeah... I do. I... I do."
"Shit. She probably hates me."
"I mean, you did slut-shame your best friend."
"Right."
"If we're giong to blame anyone for this mess though, I think we blame Luke. El and I were going to tell you. But Luke kind of jumped the gun."
"Really? You were going to tell me?"
"Yeah, I mean last night... we talked about it."
"I guess that makes me feel a bit better."
Quinn was about to apologize, but the front door creaked open. A sniffle and the sound of shoes hitting the ground made Quinn jump up.
"El?"
She just stared at them, arms crossed over her chest.
"El. I'm so sorry," Jack wrapped his arms around her, but she didn't reciprocate the hug.
"That's nice. Are you done calling me a whore?"
"I didn't mean it, El. I was mad. It was heat of the moment."
"Yeah, well, I don't fucking appreciate it."
"Do- d'you think you can forgive me?"
"Yes, Jack. I'll forgive you," she chuckled.
El finally hugged him back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She turned her attention to Quinn, who awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"Hi, El."
"Quinn."
"I'll give you guys some space," Jack shot them finger guns, walking out backwards.
"El, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like an object. You're not an object. You're... you're Elwyn. And I- I love you."
"You love me?"
"Yeah, I do. I love you."
She bit back her smile, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.
"Of course." Their lips met in a sweet, languid kiss. "I love you too, Quinn Hughes."
And their lips met again, smiles on their faces breaking it, ending in a fit of giggles. They finally had each other.
Tags:
@h0e4fictionalme-n @toasttt11 @homestylehughes @laheyxlover @dontknowhockey
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clairedaring · 2 days
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random msi ep 7 thoughts - joe's guilt and obligations to the old owner of his new body/life
so i did my reread of the chapters last weekend in preparation for this week's episode and one part stood out to me that i missed in last few rereads was this precious bit where joe expresses his guilt about about using his new body for sex
“Mom, it’s true. I also think that I came across such a good thing. He said that I can repay him slowly, but he’ll lend me the money first for our pressing needs. This money is really nothing to him. The money we owed, we can repay a part of it first. I’ll work hard. It’ll definitely get better in the future. So Mom, you must not have any burden. You must comply with the treatments. It’s only if you live that we can have hope, okay?” [Ing]’s voice trembled, “There is really such good people? How can there be such good people?” [Joe] smiled and confirmed the matter over and over again; only for [Ing] to feel as ease. If she knew that he agreed to such a deal… he wouldn’t dare to think about the consequences. If it was his former body, he may not feel as terrible. He is not a woman, not to mention that he had slept with [Ming] before. However, this body was not his. Although they have converged for so long, [Joe] still could not fully accept this body. Using [Ing]’s son’s body to do this made his heart filled with a sense of guilt. Moreover, when he thought of [Ming] using this body as a (substitute)……he could not describe his feelings. Embarrassed, awkward, and resentful. [Joe]’s heart is full of negative emotions. - Chapter 60, Professional Body Double by Shui Qian Cheng
And obviously since these are more of Joe's inner thoughts, I thought we weren't gonna get them. But then MSI team really took me by surprise by incorporating that bit seamlessly into this scene.
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gif courtesy of @pharawee
it's a tiny detail. but one i appreciate very much to the team for having joe (the soul) remains considerate to the old owner of his body, someone he owes his new life to.
and it's actually not the only bit in the novel where he is constantly reminded by the old owner of his new body. like for example, when he first learned of ing's illness, he also considered donating one of his kidneys.
[Joe] made an arrangement with the doctor to have his kidney tested for compatibility the next time he come. This he did secretly behind [Ing]’s back. Even if his kidney is a match, the first issue is that he has no money for the surgery and second is that he’s afraid [Ing] would rather die than to agree to accept his kidney. But no matter what, he has to give it a try. At least there’s more hope to save her. Although [Joe] felt a little fearful on the possibility of having a kidney removed, he had no reason to back down. This body was not his to start with, but belonged to this youngster named [Joe]. He was just a dying person fortunate enough to have his soul hosted in this body to continue on living his life. This youngster is [Ing]’s son. On this body that hosted his soul, every strand of hair, skin and even this life came from [Ing]. He is the closest relative to [Ing]. He cannot evade nor can he be selfish. - Chapter 57, Professional Body Double by Shui Qian Cheng
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and i also really like that even in as early as the beginning of the novel, since joe's woken up from his coma he's already committed to being ing's son because he's indebted to the old owner of his new body for giving him a 'renewed treasured life'.
[Joe] glanced at her. Although this woman is not his mother, he thinks that he has the responsibility to take care of her for the rest of her life because he took over her son’s body, making her lose her son forever. He, on the other hand, got a renewed treasured life. He can’t just accept that. He should also take up the responsibility that this life should have taken and complete his obligations. - Chapter 3, Professional Body Double by Shui Qian Cheng
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anyhow this was not really a thoughts post, more like an excuse to gush about how much i love this novel and how well the series has been able to capture nuances that i thought would be left out due to tv constraints.
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purinfelix · 1 day
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omg your recent post has me thinking about introvert!joão 🙈 (if you don’t take requests i’m sorry you can ignore this)
can i request joão at a party with reader where he gets really drunk and becomes super bold, SHAMELESSLY flirty and just generally acting like the exact opposite of how he normally is. and then genuinely doesn’t remember acting like that at all the morning after and gets flustered when reader tells him about it 🙈🙈🙈
flustered shy joao makes my brain go brrrrrrr ... ur a genius
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"I what?!"
"You didn't let go of my waist the entire night," you repeated, watching the look on your boyfriend's face slowly turn to pure embarrassment. "It's like the alcohol made you a totally different person, you kept whispering things in my ear too, though I'm sure you don't want me repeating those."
The two of you had just woken up after a late night out - the warm rays of the morning sun trickling in through your blinds a stark contrast to the flashing lights and booming music you had endured mere hours ago. You were propped up on your elbows, recounting the previous night's events to your boyfriend, who had definitely had way more to drink than he could handle. Surprisingly though, being drunk made Joao almost unrecognisably bold, bringing out a flirtatious side to your usually shy and reserved boyfriend that you hadn't been expecting.
"Yes spare me the details, please," he groaned, burying his face into the pillow next to you - though you weren't sure whether it was out of embarrassment or from the pain his hangover was surely causing him. Still, and much to Joao's dismay, you couldn't stop yourself from finding the entire situation amusing. You let out a soft giggle, lowering your face and trying your best to get a glimpse at his face, which you had no doubt was bright red.
"Oh c'mon baby, it was sort of cute!" you cooed in an attempt to make him feel better.
"Forget cute, it's humiliating," he grumbled, "and what's worse is I don't remember a minute of it!"
"Well, I guess you'll have to watch how much you drink next time, hm?" laying down beside him, you cautiously run your fingers through his hair as he turns to look at you, expression flustered. "Though, I can't say I didn't enjoy it a little," you throw in with a small smirk.
"Ugh, shut up," he grumbles, but even a night of embarrassing himself and a throbbing headache can't stop him from letting out a small laugh.
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frostyhelltime · 3 days
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Good morning/afternoon! Love your work so much! Could you write what reactions Vox, Alastror and Lucifer (my favorote trio haha) would have when they first realise they have feelings for someone? Like, they are not dating yet, they just got first "o sh*t" moment while eating breakfast or something.
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Sorry this took so long! ❤️ Alastor's got COMPLETELY away from me and did not end up being as small as Lucifer and Vox, so I'm gonna give Alastor his own post which you can find HERE.
And thank you!! You're so kind and I hope you like my writing for this as well! I had a lot of fun so feel free to send more requests! ❤️
Vox and Lucifer Realize They Have Feelings For You
Vox x GN!Reader
Lucifer x GN!Reader
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Vox
Vox genuinely confuses his feelings of love with simple lust and friendship for the longest time.
It's his possessive nature that helps him realize it's actual feelings instead of just something sexual he wants.
Plus a little ribbing from Valentino and Velvette when that possessive nature shows.
Whether you've had sex with him or not yet is irrelevant. He thinks what he feels for you is just lust, and you get along well and don't frustrate him like his cohorts often do. So obviously he enjoys having you by his side and spending time with you.
But it's Valentino's pushing and prodding that makes him realize, and as soon as he does actually realize it, he goes into planning mode.
Vox wasn't always the biggest fan of the loud club the trio found themselves at, but the music was a little quieter in this VIP section away from the crowds. Which made it a lot easier to actually relax with the drink in his hand as he listens to Valentino chatter about something he's only half listening to until he says your name.
He thinks perhaps Val hadn't noticed, but the way Vox's eyes clearly focused in on Valentino when they hadn't been before says everything, and Vox decides not to comment on the shit-eating grin the moth is wearing.
"Sorry. What did you say about them?" He asks for clarification, since all he actually zoned back in for was your name.
“They're very beautiful, no? I think I'll ask them to star in something. I already have a script that would be perfect for the-” Val is about to continue talking about it when Vox immediately snaps, posture becoming rigid as he speaks before he can even realize what he's saying.
“Fuck no Val.” His face has a look of genuine disgust and the visceral way he responded even has Velvette looking up from her phone for a moment, especially after hearing the distortion in his voice. She's eyeing him to try and figure out what the reaction was for.
Valentino only blinks a few times as if processing actually being told no, and then trying to figure out why. But as soon as it hits him the befuddled expression turns to one of delighted bemusement, snickering as he grinned saliciously at Vox.
“Oh~ I didn't realize you had a little amorcito you were hiding from us.” Valentino sounds so smug as he uses his long cigarette to tilt Vox's face up to see him better. Velvette just snorts a laugh, putting her phone down fully now. This was far more entertaining.
But Vox still didn't get the memo yet apparently.
“Amor…? What. No. We're not dating. I have no idea what you're talking about but you're not asking them to star in one of your flicks.” Vox says concretely even though he's very confused by Valentino's suggestion, pushing the cigarette away from his face in annoyance. Velvette just raises an eyebrow, locking eyes with Val as if to silently ask if their companion was truly this dumb. At least in this area. Val just shrugs and Vox watches this silent exchange, just becoming more vexed by it.
“What?! I can't say someone is off limits?!” He's quickly getting annoyed by the way they're both acting.
“Oh no no. You can ask for someone to be off limits….but no one asks for just anyone to be off limits.” Velvette explains, trying to lead this horse to water, trying to coax his line of thinking in the right direction.
“Well duh. They're great company and I don't want Val or his people ruining that.” Vox says coolly, trying to reel himself back in to maintain his composure.
“Oh, so it's just Val and his lackeys you don't want being intimate with them? Then it should be fair game for me to throw my hat in the ring, yeah?” Velvette asks, tilting her head cockily, a knowing smirk on her face. She didn't actually want to pursue you. She was just baiting him.
"We'd be the cutest couple on Sinstagram don't you-"
But Vox is immediately snapping, taking said bait without even realizing.
“*No!” *
Another, heavier voice distortion colors the word.
“So it's anyone being with them that pisses you off? That sounds like a genuine crush, not just ‘great company’, campañero~” Valentino takes another drag of his cigarette before taking another sip of his drink, adjusting the busty demon currently sitting on his lap to be his eye candy and thing to squeeze tonight.
Said demon is pointedly avoiding all of their eyes, as if to silently tell them she doesn't hear shit and she won't be repeating anything she hears herself. She values her afterlife enough to know to not mention this to anyone.
Vox’s expression goes through multiple stages, indignation, surprise, confusion, amusement, disbelief, annoyance, and eventually…
“...Holy shit.” He eventually whispers leaning back in his seat, eyes wide as Velvette claps.
“Theeeeere it is! Knew you'd get there eventually.” She snickers, as well as Val, both ignoring the pointed glare Vox was sending them now.
He's not even going to bother dignifying it with a response. He wouldn't give them the pleasure.
For now he just leans back further, grumpily folding his arms and continuing to sip his drink as he thinks.
Now that he's aware he can figure out what to do. Like there is anything to figure out anyway. He's charismatic and rich and powerful. What sinner wouldn't want to be the one to earn his affections? With that certainty in his mind at least, he loosens up a little, relaxing. Surely he can approach you tomorrow. For now he'll just relax here, and let Velvette and Valentino have their silly little laugh while they can enjoy it.
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Lucifer
He's the fastest to realize.
Partially because he's actually been in love before so he's familiar with the feeling.
But he's also the first to panic because of it, wondering what Charlie will think.
Their relationship was just beginning to rebuild itself and he's scared about what such a big change would do to what he's rebuilt so far.
He most likely realizes *when* he's talking to Charlie actually.
Charlie is talking about how much she loves Vaggie, how everything reminds Charlie of her, or how if she sees something wonderful her immediate thought is that she wants to bring Vaggie there.
She's just talking about how she just loves Vaggie so much she just wants to share everything with her, boring and exciting!
And that is when it clicks for him, eyes widening.
“And despite the people of Cannibal Town being…interesting…They have amazing gardens and a gazebo and I can't wait to surprise Vaggie with a date there!” Charlie is talking at the typical fast pace she does when she is immeasurably excited, Lucifer just grinning and nodding along and just enjoying her sharing news about her life with him. There was so much he felt he still didn't know about his daughter and he was very eager to make up for lost time.
“And I heard this amazing new song that made me think of her! It went something like….Oh how did it go...?” Charlie trails off before attempting to sing what words she did remember.
“Or something like that! Anyways! Ugh I even love just sitting next to her while I write out new trust exercises!” She gushes, clasping her hands together as she continues to wax poetic about Vaggie. Others in the hotel didn't really care or were just tired of hearing it, and Lucifer wanted to spend time with her regardless of what they spent the time doing. So it made sense she would gush about her wonderful girlfriend to her dad, who patiently and happily listened to almost anything she wanted to talk about.
At some point during this monologue that he nodded and made noises of acknowledgement during, he stiffened, eyes widening as he realized the parallels between Charlie and himself that he hadn't really thought about before now.
Whenever he saw a pretty part of Pentagram City, his first thought was to show you. When he tried a new restaurant, his thought afterwards was always ‘Good enough to take you there.’ or ‘Not good enough to take you there.’ He adores the time when you're just sitting next to him, reading a book, or drawing, or whatever strikes your fancy that day as he toils away at his latest invention. He just enjoys…existing with you, even if no one is talking. Even mundane things like what he did that morning are things he finds he wants to share with you…he hears songs of love and happiness and his thoughts drift to you without even realizing until the song is over. If all of those things are things Charlie feels about Vaggie…then…
Fuck.
When did this even happen?! At what point did you turn from just a delightful part of his day to a required part of his day? How long has he had these feelings?! Why didn't he realize he had these feelings?!
Okay! No need to panic! He's been in love before. He can handle this. Right? He's the king of hell. Surely he can handle some feelings. He had been in love before!
…Except back then it had been completely obvious the feeling was reciprocated because they literally fell to hell together.
He's still panicking a little inwardly but…perhaps Charlie could help with some suggestions? He doesn't really know if he trusts anyone else to ask them that vulnerable of a question. To expose a weak point a sinner could gleefully take advantage of, to put you in harm's way. He also trusts you of course, but for obvious reasons he can't discuss that with you.
He realizes in his panicked internal monologue he's missed a good chunk of what Charlie has just said, and she realized it too, judging by the concerned look on her face.
“Dad? You in there?” She asks, leaning over him and waving a hand in front of his face to try and grab his attention, smiling when his eyes focused back on her.
"Whew! Thought I lost you there!" She laughs, shoulders relaxing now that he seems to be okay.
“Yes! I'm right here CharChar! Uh. Actually…now that I think about it I was wondering if I could ask you about something…” He trails off, taking her arm and beginning to walk to a more secluded area of the hotel to talk.
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Please can you do platonic 141 x reader x romantic(??) Ghost where the reader is addicted to painkillers? Like going through a pack per day and practically inhaling them before and after a mission. Its something went under the radar but somehow came to their attention Thank you!! xx
(Its ok if your not comfortable writing this)
a/n: sorry this took forever to post! I’ve been on a break recently to have a social interaction month I guess and things have slipped- also I’m quite alright with writing this! Tell me if I messed anything up of course as always because it’s my first time writing for lots of things
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ghost:
-feels utterly horrid for not realizing the details, for gods sake he was dating you! He should have picked up on it, he should have done something, he should have! It makes him sick to his stomach that he wasn’t the first one to notice either
-it was gaz who told him, gaz… it made him feel so guilty that he hadn’t noticed before others did. Apparently gaz had noticed the little signs before him and had caught you after you had downed a pack of the medbays stored pain meds that were supposed to be lock
-was half scared to talk to you about it, but knew he couldn’t make it worse. So when you both luckily got some time off, he sat you down and held you close and just… talked. No special goal; just talking. And then he got you to sign up for some mental and physical help to work on getting off meds that he was so worried about you because of
gaz:
-froze in place when he saw you in the med bay. Sure he had expected something for quite a while, ever since you joined the team in fact he could clock something was off with you but he chalked it up to him being overly worried
-that was quite a bit ago, and you two have been good friends for so long now that he had grown blind to little warning signs
-he was frozen for a long time just looking, taking in the idea of someone he cared so much doing something he didn’t expect. Not that it was your fault, but it was truly unexpected
-he didn’t know what else to do so he dashed knowing you hadn’t saw him and told ghost, but didn’t think to tell price or soap
soap:
-wasn’t told till you were on break to get off painkillers, and utterly livid nobody had told him!! He wanted so so badly to comfort you but knew you probably didn’t need extra events during recovery, so he waited on his nerves end until you came back to base and utterly showered you in gifts as soon as you got back, chocolate, snacks, gifts galor
-he wanted to make up for not knowing, for not being able to help or reach you before hand, and gifts seemed to be the best way. He’s just always so glad your here and that you are getting better, albeit slowly
price:
-ghost had told him the day after your talk, and he was just utterly shocked, even more so then gaz to be honest… and he felt so guilty, why? Because he had brushed off the medbay nurses reports of missing pain meds for months thinking it was nothing big
-he’s your captain! He’s supposed to watch out for you, he’s supposed to be there for his team, that’s his damn job
-laswell had to slap him out of guilt to get him back in shape, and he promptly gave you and ghost the next month off, but made sure ghost would update him
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All In 11
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)
based on the winning option for this poll
Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes
Note: it's a new week
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Your phone buzzes against your leg, ripping you back to reality. Your eyes widen and drift away from the stream of font. You sit up and mark the page with your finger as you reach for the jittering cell. 
You scramble to grab onto it and hesitate to hit the big green button. The screen doesn't look like usual, not that you get many calls. You tap the button and the image changes at once, Bucky startling you as he appears. 
"Hey, doll," he grins and winks at you, moving the camera to lean against something. "How's it going?" 
"Uhhhh," you drone, surprised. He can see you too. You know by the little reflection of yourself in the corner. "Hi. Fine." You put the book down with no mind to losing the page, "um, you?" 
"You busy, doll?" 
"Reading but... no." 
"Mm," he hums, "glad to see you enjoying your treats but... no pajamas?" 
He steps back and you get a view of him from waist up, the edge of a counter in the lower edge. You pout then give a sheepish smile, "sorry, I haven't... had a chance." 
"That's okay, doll, I just wanted a peek before I went to work," he undoes his shirt button by button and pulls it off, revealing his muscular torso. You gulp at the lines of his muscle along his stomach, "why don't you put them on now and give me a look." 
"Oh, uh..." you glance at the wall. It's late. You're pretty sure Roxie already left for work and your mom will probably be settling down. "Right, uh..." 
"Just want something to think of when I walk the floor," he purrs. 
"Sure, er," you nearly choke, "I'll just-- one sec." 
"I can wait, doll. I've been waiting, haven't I?" He purrs. 
You feel a pang of guilt. You place the phone down so the lens faces the ceiling and climb off the bed. He's given you a lot, too much honestly, and now you feel like you owe him. It isn't fair to take his kindness without anything in return. And he isn't asking much, is he? 
You dig in the bag, the crinkle loud as the only other noise is the subtle movement from his end. You fish out the soft pajamas and peer over, making certain the phone is still flat. You change far away from it, paranoid. 
You look down at yourself in the tank and shorts. Oh gosh. It's a lot less than you usually wear. Your legs are showing, your shoulders, and a bit of your tummy. 
"Doll?" He says and you flinch. 
"I don't know... I don't think it fits." 
"I'm sure it fits just nice," he insists, "show me." 
"Oh, uh..." 
"I'm just looking, doll, I'll only think of what I really wanna do," he snickers. 
You cross back to the bed and pick up the phone, careful to stay out of view. You turn back and prop it up on the dresser, overly aware of the unflattering angle as you do. You give a wide-eyed look and back up so you're all in frame.  
You hug yourself shyly and sway. 
"Let me see ya," he orders. 
You put your arms straight and notice how he leans in to look at the screen, smoothing his hair back. He keeps his hands over his dark strands and growls. A flutter starts in your stomach. 
"What do you mean too small? That fits your perfect," he says. 
"I... really?" 
"Sure, doll," he turns and you realise he's getting ready.  
He combs his hair stands straight. He grabs a new shirt and buttons it as he peeks again. You near the camera and move it so he can only see your face.  
"Damn, doll, I'm gonna be all over the place," he says, "you're so sweet and sexy." 
"Bucky," you squeak.  
"I don't lie. That's the one thing you should know about me. I will always let you know exactly what I want." 
You blush hotly and a tap on the door nearly makes you drop the phone. You hide it behind you and shuffle closer. You clear your throat. 
"Uh, yeah?" You call through. 
"Hey, honey, everything okay in there?" She asks. Shoot, she must have heard you. 
"I'm watching something," your heart hammers, "sorry, I'll turn it down."
"It's alright, honey. Just thought I heard you..."
"No, just a show," you wisp out.
You quickly back away and go as far from the door as you can. You look down at the phone as Bucky tucks in his shirt. Ugh, that was embarrassing. He heard all that; surely he must realise how lame you are. 
"Mom sounds real sweet," he says, "must be where you get it." 
"She's working tomorrow. Don't wanna keep her up," you explain quietly. 
"That's too bad, doll. I'll just have to keep waiting... wanting," he shrugs and pulls on a dark jacket, "what do ya think? Look good?" 
He poses for the camera. He looks great, as always. You feel smaller than ever. 
"Yes," you answer softly. 
"Yes? That's it?" He sounds disappointed. 
"Very handsome," you eke out. 
"Handsome?" He squints as he picks up the phone. 
"Er," you search your repertoire and borrow from his, "sexy?" 
"Are you asking or telling me?" He chuckles. 
You giggle. You don't think you've ever told anyone they are sexy. You've never been that bold. 
"Yes." 
"Yes?" He laughs. 
"You're, er, oh, sexy," you touch your hot cheek and look away. 
"You are adorable, doll," he growls, "that's exactly what I need to hear." He grazes his fingertips over his beard, "unfortunately I gotta get on it so... tomorrow." 
"Tomorrow," you confirm. 
"Don't worry about a thing, doll, just bring your gorgeous self." 
🃏
The next day is restless. It's worse having hours to wait around for... what? You don't know. 
You spend your time reading, or trying to. Breakfast is small, what your roiling stomach can handle, and you put on an outfit that you think is acceptable, not that you have much to choose from. It might be strange if your mom or Roxie notice the lack of uniform. You could say you change at work? 
Ugh, lie after lie. It's all so much.  
You don't get very far in the book and your phone buzzes, a reminder from Bucky that your fate is coming. You grab your purse and sit out on the stoop, the sunlight beaming down. It would be a nice say if you were so damn uptight. 
Merv pulls up in the sleek luxury car and you get up, checking over your shoulder to see if there's any curious tug on the curtain. Your mom's already at work but Roxie is puttering around somewhere. She could be sleeping or not. 
Merv gets out to greet you. He opens the door and you thank him. He sits in the driver's seat and Springsteen drones from the radio. You smile as he shifts into gear. 
"I know this one," you say. 
"Of course, a classic," he praises. "And how are you today, miss?" 
"Good, you, sir?" 
He laughs as he steers, "very good, miss. And how could I not be." He peeks at you in the rear view, "with sunshine in my backseat." 
You smile bashfully and cross your legs. You can't help the shake in your foot. You're more and more nervous with each second and turn of the wheel. 
As if noticing your unease, he turns up the music, "I like this one too." 
You sigh and ease into the drumbeat. The tempo keeps your heartbeat in check. You're thankful for his subtle comfort. 
You turn to watch through the tinted windows. You never noticed how scenic this city is. You never went many places to have the chance. 
He keeps the volume up and you let it carry you through the long journey across the city. He pulls up to the casino and steers around to the hotel entrance. You peer through then back at him in confusion. He turns the knob down. 
"Mr. Barnes says to give your name at the desk," Merv instructs, "have a good day." 
"Thanks, you too," you unbuckle the seat belt and sidle across to the door. 
You get out with reticence. Staring up at the grand facade, you're more unsure than you've ever been. You've come this far, you have to keep going. You really have no choice as Merv slowly rolls away.  
You step forward. It doesn't get easier the further you get. Your pulse hammers behind your ear as you enter the lobby and a flash of deja vu overcomes you. That night with Roxie, the morning after, and everything since. How does it all feel as if it happened so fast and yet so long ago? 
You go to the desk, feeling entirely out of place. What if Merv is wrong and you shouldn't be there? What if they just look at you and laugh? No choice, keep going. 
You stop on the other side of the desk and give a stiff smile. 
"Hello, welcome, checking in?" The modelesque concierge asks. She's stunning and you're all the more self-aware. 
"Uh, I think? My name is..." 
She keeps her pristine smile in place and her eyes lights up. She doesn't even bother typing into her computer. She flits away and returns with one of little folders with the room keys inside. Oh, this is really happening. 
You thank her and slowly back away. You make a slow advance towards the elevator and wait beside a couple with their suitcases. You step on with them, avoiding a glimpse through the transparent walls.  
You unfold the folio and read the number, pushing the floor number, then stand back on your heels. You keep your eyes on the door, the motion alone making you dizzy. 
The couple gets off before you. When it's your floor, you thankfully scramble off and take a deep breath. You once more check the number and follow the hallways to your assigned suite. 
You swipe the card several times, you still don't have the hang of it. The door opens and you enter meekly. You focus on every move. Shut the door, slip the card back in the folder, put it down on the corner table. 
You look up at last and let yourself marvel at the suite as you delve further in. The smell of pollen greets you with a large bouquet of roses. The suite is huge, even bigger than last time. Two rooms just the same and a full kitchenette and spacious bathroom. You don't go onto the balcony, not wanting to test your stomach. 
You go back inside and glance over the table draped in a red tablecloth beneath the crystal vase of flowers. There's also a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and various colours of macarons. You've never had the delicate cookies before but you'd watch countless recipe videos, wishing on day to try them yourself. 
There's an envelope too. You take it and run your nail along the sealed flap. You open it carefully and slip out the card within. 
'Enjoy yourself, doll. I'll join you shortly. B.' 
As if on cue, there's a knock on the door. Oh gosh, you're not ready. What does he mean? Join you? You hoped for a little long before... before... 
You stand frozen but when the door doesn't open itself, you go to answer it. You slowly twist the long handle and open it just a crack. You peer around the edge and blink in confusion. 
"Hello, dahling," the woman's affectation drags out her syllables, "well look at you, how precious." 
She presses on the door and you let her force her way in. You're dumbfounded. Who the heck is she? Another long-legged beauty you can't compare too. 
"Lovely hair," she remarks as she closes the door without a care, "oh, and your skin, yes, perfect canvas..." 
"Sorry, er, I think you have the wrong room--" 
"Mr. Barnes sent me, dahling," she trills in her way, "and I see you are very much in need of my visit so let's begin. Mm, yes, I have a vision," she struts forward, a rose gold chest in her hand, "not very much, you have a natural lustre I adore." 
You retreat as she advances on you. She lifts her chest onto the chaise and flips back the lid, revealing an assortment of precisely organized palettes and tubes. You're horrified and humiliated as you realise why she's there. Maybe you aren't as pretty as Bucky keeps telling you. 
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factsilike · 3 days
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I've seen so many takes about this so here's mine;
Stella is an abuser, a horrible wife and an equally horrible mother. That's all she is. She is not complex, she is not meant to be sympathised with, her role in the story is to be an antagonist to the main characters, because that's the way she was written. And it's not bad writing, like people claim it is.
If you don't like that and want that to change, well that's literally what fanfiction is for! Write your own fix it, your own version of her character where she's morally grey or complex or whatever, but don't jump to saying that she is badly written or that Vizie is a bad writer for no reason. Because all that seems to show is that she is not written the way you wanted her to be written, or a story you wanted to see. Write your own, then!
Because you can say that she was forced into this marriage as well or that she was cheated on so she has a right to feel aggrieved about that, and you would be right. Sure, as a child she could be sullen and miserable about this marriage and no one could blame her, but as an adult you become responsible for your actions, and you cannot continue to be bitter and take out your anger out on your partner for no reason. Because that quickly turns into abuse. Her poisonous nature had no base in the early stages of their relationship. Neither are we shown any care from her for her only daughter.
And from what we saw of her childhood picture, she seemed to be deeply unpleasant as a child anyway, so it's probably in her nature. I'd give her a pass as a child, but she didn't shed that behaviour as she grew up, or work on it to become better, so.
And of course Stolas was forced into this marriage as well, yet he, as is shown multiple times in the show, tries to make it work, was never actively malicious to her as she is and endured her abuse silently for so long, at least a decade or two. Honestly I think he does not get enough credit for that, because that takes some strength and resilience. And how utterly depressed he is all the time, because that is the result of those twenty long miserable years. He also clearly adores his daughter, who cannot for some reason see that which really frustrates me, but that is another post.
And as for the cheating-
If you watch carefully you'll notice that Stella wasn't really bothered by Stolas bedding someone else, so much as that someone else was an imp. She was more angered by that fact, that her husband had an affair with an imp, the lowest of the low classes in hell, because clearly she was classist, just like Stolas' father. She felt that it was a huge blow to her ego and reputation that her husband would rather be with an imp than her. So I would say that again, her anger was not really justified on that end.
Sometimes antagonists are meant to be just that. We are not given any reasons to sympathise with them, so we seem to make up reasons, because of course that horrible character must have good reason to be that horrible, right? It makes no sense otherwise!
This post is a result of me being really tired of people going with surface level analysis about villains and antagonists, like "she's Complex!!" or "He's soooo misunderstood and I'm the only one who truly understands him 😤" and "he's sooo tragic 🥺" like please. Look a little deeper and past what you want to see, I beg you.
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fanfictionalraven · 2 days
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Dream Warriors Chapter 10
Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 10
Summary: Can our Dream Warriors make it out alive?
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, other original characters
Word Count: 3,112
Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril
Author’s Note: The grand finale!! I can't believe it's really over. This series has taken me a long time to finally get completely posted. I'm pretty proud of it. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Let's see how it all ends...
Read Chapter 9 here.
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Still laying in Dean’s arms, you let out another scream. Dean glares up at the witch as she continues to smirk at the two of you in the floor. 
“I’ll kill you. If you take over her body, I will kill you,” he threatens. 
“See, I don’t think you’ll be able to. I know how she feels about you and, from her memories, I’m pretty sure you feel the same way,” she says as she walks over and kneels down next to the two of you. “It’s so cliché. The two best friends who are so madly in love but too afraid to cross that line. I’ve seen that movie a hundred times. I think I’ll change the ending.” She rises to her feet and moves over to the refrigerator in the room. Pulling the door open, she looks in and grabs a bottle of water. “Maybe I’ll get the guy.” You grit your teeth and lay your head back against Dean’s shoulder, another pain hitting. 
“If I don’t make it, you better rip her apart,” you tell him. He presses a kiss to your temple and shakes his head. 
“You’re gonna make it, Sweetheart,” he says before moving to prop you up against the counter. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. The witch looks over and smiles widely.
“Oh, you wanna fight?” She asks, setting the bottle on the counter. “How adorable. The knight in shining armor, willing to die for his love.” You let out another scream and watch in horror as Dean charges at the witch. She merely laughs and with a flick of her wrist, sends him flying into the opposite wall. “Dean, Dean, Dean…” She says as she walks over towards him. “I’ve got the power here. I am in complete control.” He forces himself up and swings at her, knocking her back, stunned. “Why you little…” She snaps her fingers and Dean screams out in pain. 
“Stop!!” You scream out, watching as he twists in agony on the floor. “Stop!! I’ll give up!!” She looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You swallow thickly, fighting tears. “Let him go, let him wake up, and I’ll give up. I’ll stop fighting.” 
“Y/N, no!!” Dean calls out through gritted teeth. 
“Please,” you beg. The witch watches you for a moment before snapping her fingers once again. Dean stops screaming and sits back, leaning against the wall behind himself. “Send him back,” you tell her. 
“I will. Calm down. How did you get here though?” She asks, looking back at Dean. He sets his jaw, staring her down. With a smirk, she raises a hand towards you and Dean’s eyes widen. 
“A different spell,” he tells her in a rush. The witch nods her head slowly as she thinks this over. 
“Like a backdoor…fascinating,” she says mostly to herself. You watch her and frown. 
“Send him back,” you say once again. She glances at you and with a wave of her hand, Dean disappears. You let out a sigh and lay your head back against the counter. “Can we at least stop this charade?” You ask. She waves her hand once again and the pain fades away along with your overgrown stomach. Closing your eyes, you can feel the life slipping away from you. It wouldn’t be long now. 
“So many regrets,” the witch says, watching you. You glance at her and frown. 
“Please stop reading my mind,” you tell her. She laughs lightly and crosses her arms. 
“All those different scenarios…all those different plays…this was your favorite,” she says. You sigh and close your eyes again, trying to ignore her. “A normal, happy life. Completely domestic. Married and a baby on the way. You two could have really been happy.” 
“I’m just gonna picture Dean killing you now, if that’s okay,” you tell her. She laughs as she sits in one of the chairs at the table. 
“I don’t get it. You’re so obviously in love with him, enough to die for him now, but you never said anything. Never made a move,” she says. You groan and shake your head. 
“This is not how I pictured the end,” you mumble. She watches you for a moment before waving her hand once again. The kitchen scene disappears and is replaced with a more familiar one. “This isn’t my room,” you comment. You were now resting in Dean’s bed in the bunker. She smiles from her chair across the room. 
“You’d rather be in here and we both know it,” she says. You lean back against the headboard with a sigh and close your eyes, thinking about the last time you were really in here. Dean had been beaten up pretty bad on a hunt and you’d stayed the night with him, watching over him and taking care of his wounds. “This is getting sickening.” 
“Well it’s still my mind for a few more minutes. I’ll think about whatever I want,” you tell her. 
“You could at least picture him naked,” she mumbles causing you to actually laugh out loud. The laugh dies out quickly as you grimace, squeezing your eyes closed a little tighter. As you lose yourself in different memories, one flashes through your mind and you quickly tuck it away before she has a chance to see it too. It wasn’t a happy one. Dean was a demon, hunting you and Sam in the bunker. You’d taken refuge here in his bedroom, a place you knew was stocked with hidden weapons. 
“Why didn’t you just kill me?” You ask, forcing yourself to sit up. She glances over at you and rolls her eyes. 
“Loophole in the spell. I can inflict pain. I can cause injury but I have to drain the life from you slowly,” she explains as she checks her nails. You nod slightly and swing your legs over the side of the bed. “What are you doing?” 
“I just want to stretch my legs,” you tell her. You knew your legs were too weak to support your weight and that’s what you were counting on at this point. “Spell seems complicated. Have you done it before?” You ask, trying to keep her talking so she wouldn’t be as focused on you. She sighs and lays her head back. 
“Hundreds of times. I’ve been jumping bodies for centuries now. I’d lost my book in the last jump when I landed in this…child. Kaylee,” she sneers the name with disgust. You glance at her and frown. 
“Not a fan of the name?”
“Much too modern,” she says, looking at her nails casually.
“And what do you prefer? Eve?” You question, earning a laugh. She glances over at you, smirking.
“Hardly.” She eyes you for a moment as you continue to gauge your strength. “Morcant was my given name. Of course, you people have modernized it. Morgan.”
“If you’ve done this so many times, why did you need the book?” You ask, standing up carefully. Your legs wobble beneath you. She sighs now, seemingly exasperated by your continued questioning.
“If you must know, it’s the source of my power. Without the book, I’ve got nothing,” she says. It’s only a moment before your legs give out, as you’d expected, and you collapse to the floor with a crash. The witch looks at you and starts to laugh, rising from her seat. “Not as strong as you’d thought, hmmm?” She taunts, dropping down next to you. Your hand slips under the bed and immediately comes into contact with something cold and metallic. You look up at her and smirk. 
“No. But I’m strong enough,” you say before pulling the angel blade from under the bed. You drive the spike into her stomach and she screams out in agony. 
“You bitch!!” She spits through gritted teeth. Something flashes in her eyes briefly before she smirks. She waves a hand and… 
You sit up suddenly with a gasp and take in your surroundings. Six eyes are watching you closely, all shocked. Sam. Cas. Rowena. The pain surges through you suddenly and you let out an unearthly scream as you fall back into the pillows. You’re immediately aware of the body next to you. Despite the pain coursing through you, you realize that Dean is next to you, still unconscious. 
“No,” you mumble, trying to reach for him. You hadn’t noticed Sam had left the room until he comes back. 
“What’s that?” Cas asks. Sam uncaps the syringe and grabs your arm. 
“Morphine. I took it from the hospital,” he tells him before stabbing it into your arm. It acts quickly, numbing the pain. You feel the pull to go back under and reach out for Sam, to ask him about Dean. He takes your hand in his but the drug takes its full effect before you can get the words out. 
You come to some time later, groggy and confused. You aren’t in the bedroom anymore. Now, you’re in the dungeon, strapped to the chair in the center of the room. The pain is still very much present but it isn’t as bad as before, the morphine still working. The door to the dungeon opens and Sam steps into the room. 
“Sam! Where’s Dean?” You ask. He watches you for a moment then looks down the hall. 
“Rowena, she’s awake,” he calls out before stepping into the room fully. 
“Did Dean wake up?” You ask, trying to pull against the restraints. The younger Winchester ignores your pleas, arms crossed over his chest. Rowena steps into the room now and walks over. She blows a fistful of powder into your face, causing you to cough. “The hell??” You gasp, triggering the pain in your side. 
“Truth spell,” Sam explains. You stare at him for a moment before you nod, understanding. 
“Please, hurry,” you beg. Sam waits for a moment, allowing the spell to take full effect. You groan in agony, hanging your head. “Sam, please.” Rowena looks at him and nods once. 
“What’s your name?” Sam asks. Something rushes through you, a tingling sensation, as the spell works. 
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you tell him quickly. You can visibly see the relief wash over him. 
“What happened?” He asks as he rushes over to untie your wrists. 
“Got an angel blade from under Dean’s bed and stabbed her,” you explain. He frowns and nods. “Where’s Dean?” 
“He hasn’t woken up yet,” he says. His words wash over you. That wasn’t possible. 
“No. No, she was supposed to send him back,” you tell him. He looks at you and shakes his head slightly. 
“What?” He asks. 
“I made a deal with her. I’d give up if she sent him back. He…he disappeared,” you say, looking up at Rowena. Her brow furrows as she thinks this over. 
“Did you see her die?” She asks. Sam gets you free from the chair and you move to stand quickly. Too quickly. You fall into Sam immediately and he wraps an arm around your waist to support you. 
“No. I just…woke up,” you tell them. You begin to pale and Sam frowns. 
“Alright, let’s get you back in bed,” he says, scooping you up into his arms quickly. You shake your head. 
“No!! We have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam starts down the hall and glances back at Rowena. 
“What do we do?” He asks. You groan and lay your head back, closing your eyes. The pain was coming back with a vengeance. 
“This is tricky,” she says, shaking her head. Sam carries you back into the bedroom where Cas is examining Dean. The angel looks up from Dean’s still body and manages a small smile. 
“It’s Y/N?” He asks. You look over at him and nod quickly before your eyes fall to Dean. 
“Rowena, what happened?” You ask as Sam lays you on the bed once again. 
“Could she have jumped to Dean? Could she control two bodies at once like that?” Sam asks, looking at the witch. You force yourself up onto your elbows to watch them. 
“That would take…decades of practice,” she says, shaking her head. 
“She has it!!” You tell them. They all look at you. “She said she’s been doing this for centuries. Jumping from body to body.” You gasp suddenly, remembering. “The book!!” You attempt to force yourself up from the bed but Sam reaches over, stopping you. 
“What about it?” 
“She said it’s the source of her power. Without it, she has nothing,” you explain as you try to sit up. Cas brings Sam another syringe of morphine and you frown at him. “No!! I have to help Dean!!” 
“We’ll figure it out. You can’t even stand right now. Rest,” he tells you, but you shake your head defiantly.  
“Send me back,” you say, looking at Rowena. “You sent Dean in. Now send me.” 
“That’s too risky,” Cas says, frowning.  
“I don’t care about the damn risk!! I have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam nods slightly.  
“Okay. Yea. We’ll send you back. Just lay down. Let Rowena get the spell ready,” he says. You watch him for a moment before laying back against the bed once more. Your eyes land on Dean, next to you on the bed. He looks like he’s peacefully sleeping but you can only imagine what she’s doing to him. The slightest pinch in your arm draws your attention quickly. Sam empties the syringe into your arm as you stare in disbelief. 
“You lied.” 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, rising to his full height. Tears flood your eyes as you feel the drugs taking over once again. “We’ll destroy the book and you’ll both be fine.” 
“I love him, Sam,” you cry. 
“I know,” he says, brushing your hair from your face. “And you can tell him that as soon as you wake up.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead as the morphine pulls you under once again.  
***
Some time later, you come to once again, just as confused as the last time. This time you hadn’t been moved. You’re still lying in Dean’s bed only now you have a blanket draped over you and you’re completely alone. Sam, Cas, and Rowena were nowhere to be seen and Dean was no longer next to you. Carefully, you rise to an upright position, wincing only slightly at the pain in your side. A gunshot wound and broken ribs were not a good combination. Forcing your stiff limbs to move, you get your legs over the edge of the bed just as the bedroom door opens. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks. You break into a wide smile, and if you could, you’d run and tackle him. 
“You’re okay!!” You proclaim. He laughs as he walks over. 
“I’m always okay. You need to lay back down,” he tells you. Shaking your head quickly, you hold a hand out for him. He takes your hand in his and sits down next to you on the bed. “You need more medicine?” He asks as you lay your head on his shoulder. 
“I don’t want to go back to sleep right now. I’ve been out for long enough,” you say. He laughs lightly and nods before dropping a kiss to the top of your head. 
“It’s good to see you awake,” he says, his voice soft. 
“Could say the same for you,” you tell him. He lets out a small laugh drawing you to look up at him now. “What was it?” 
“She did pretty good. Had me think I woke up just before she finished you off. Guess she wanted to see if I actually could kill you,” he says, his eyes set on some far off point. Taking his face in your hands gently, you pull him back to look at you. 
“Hey. Whatever happened, whatever you did, it wasn’t real, okay? I’m fine,” you tell him, but he shakes his head quickly. 
“I couldn’t do it,” he confesses. “I thought if I knew it wasn’t you, if I knew you were gone, I’d be able to put my feelings aside but…” He trails off and you bite at your lip. “We need to have a talk about that will of yours too because that is too much pressure.” 
“Will?” You ask, eyes widening. Oh God. “You mean…” 
“Arnold showed up. Gave me your letter,” he tells you. Staring at him, your mind races. He read the letter. The letter you’d written at a very dark time, spilling your heart onto paper just for him. 
“You really weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. Dean laughs lightly and presses his lips to your forehead. 
“Then maybe you should be a little more careful about what spells you get put under,” he teases. You laugh at this and shake your head. 
“She’s dead, right?” You ask. He nods quickly. 
“Burst into flames right in front of me,” he says. “They burned the book out here, so she…” He makes an exploding motion with his hands, complete with sound effects. You nod your head slightly. “You don’t seem as excited about that as I thought you would?” 
“Nothing feels different. I was hoping I’d be able to feel that this was real, to know she was gone, but…” You’re cut off abruptly by Dean’s lips against yours. It’s a gentle and chaste kiss only lasting long enough to shut you up. 
“That feel real?” He asks. You swallow thickly and nod, unable to speak. That kiss was different from the ones in your dreams. His lips were more chapped than they had been in your mind. There was whiskey on his breath.
“That letter…” You say, trying to refocus your mind from the kiss. “I was in a pretty dark place and…”
“You’re the best part of my life too,” he interjects. “You’re…everything to me.” Your heart swells at his words. It wasn’t much but it was all you needed to hear. You immediately pull him back into another kiss.
This time, neither of you hold back, allowing every ounce of your repressed feelings to come to the surface. Your dreams couldn’t even begin to compare to the way his touch set your skin on fire as his fingers grazed just below your shirt. He leans in closer, an attempt to lay you back on the bed. You let out a soft, pained gasp as you pull away from him.
“Easy,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath. His eyes widen immediately.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. You laugh lightly and shake your head.
“Give me a few weeks to heal up, then you can get carried away,” you tease. He smiles widely before resting his forehead against yours. 
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says. You press your lips to his once again, softly. Despite the pain emanating from various places on your body, you’d call this moment perfect. You’d even go as far as to say it was…a dream come true.
The End
Thank you so much to everyone who has enjoyed the story!! I hope the ending was satisfying!! A special thanks to everyone below…
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Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester
Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @lailawinchesterr @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @deans-baby-momma @demons-eats-pie-too @brightlilith @kazsrm67 @onlyangel444
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