#sorry for some reason i feel like i write about DE better in tags than the post. idk why. TAG ESSAY AHEAD. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

electricrogue · 5 months

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Got tagged by @tinknevertalks and @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter and fianlly got around to do this, so thank you (and sorry it took me so long)

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

72 apparently :D

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

244.448 - whew that was a pain to add up. But it is also scary from other points of view (but also fun) so worth it.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sanctuary the most though I did some other stuff as well historically speaking xD.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Keep in mind the kudos are 100% based on how big the fandom is I guess so hmmm not sure it's fair. Here it goes anyway:

Mysterious Ways - Fleabag with Fleabag/Priest which is the only fic I wrote in that fandom funnily enough.

Confessions - La Casa de Papel with The Professor/Raquel

Reunion - same

Five Times Randall Came Up With Vermish Theories And One Time It Got Confirmed - this is The Order with Vera/Hamish and yeah it's basically the kids finding out their sexy boss is fucking (around) with someone they shouldn't but it's The Order and not Sanctuary for some reason :))

Meeting Someone Big - Again Vera/Hamish from the order and funnily enough this is one I would have done a lot better if I were into werewolves but I'm not so it turned fluffy and yeah xD.

See? 5 of them and none Sanctuary it's a good thing I don't write for kudos because I would have been pissed otherwise. I mean I loved these when I wrote them don't get me wrong but... Sanctuary is my baby ok. It's just that it's a very small fandom so yeah.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes I mean come on people do their best to leave them (never got nasty ones not really) so it's the least I can do

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't do angst not on ao3. Should have been Love in Perpetuity I started that one wanting to kill Helen but it's not ended because I couldn't bring myself to do it so yeah does it really count?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Either The Secret Beneath The Ice or Dear Stranger I guess (I mean Teslen is basically either engaged or with kids at the end so yeah)

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not really

9. Do you write smut?

At some point I did it enough that it had kinda become my go to thing xD

10. Do you write crossovers?

Did my share of those as well

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes - London Miracles got translated into Russian partially.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh I did a lot more than that only not on AO3 xD. Me and some other girls had a porn writing club if you can call it that? And we did some Teslen stuff together. It's on fanfiction.net because we didn't know about ao3 at that point and at least two of us were hormonal teenagers and that's pretty much the only excuse I have for it existing xD. Look it up on your own risk

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Teslen all the way

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Pffff that's a lot of them. London Miracles is the one I feel the worst about because I liked it but I haven't written in ages for it so not sure I can start over. Plus I am taken mostly writing wise for the next year so yeah. Not optimistic about this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm better at writing dialogue than anything else (which can also get to be a major pain sometimes)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I hate descriptions with a passion especially if it's clothes (filled under why the hell did I sign up for some stuff Jesus Christ)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Me or other people? xD. I know like 4 languages in various degrees but I could get some sentences written in all of them. But French is too cliche, Romanian who the fuck speaks that, Dutch... well doesn't make sense with any of the fandoms I am in (except one but that's not fic writing material I said like the biggest liar in the world) and English is what I am writing fics in in the first place.

Other people writing this? More power to them :). Though if they mess up Romanian (which is the only one I know well enough to know if they do) I would gently point it out.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Tom and Jerry crossover with Chip and Dale. I was like 5 and I shipped Jerry with one of the squirrels not sure what that says about me xD.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

The Admins Know Better. Ooor Feather-Like Messages. They're the most me fics I ever wrote (as in they have a lot of stuff I like, I mean the first one is subtle but I know and this is what matters).

Tagging... hmm. Not sure who wasn't tagged yet from the people I know so I will go with @xbleeple, @zebsfloppyears, and whoever else wants to do it :)

#tag game

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ineffable-kelpie · 2 years

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@anonymousdandelion tagged me for this game: name your most popular fic and two “hidden gems” that haven’t circulated as much. Thank you for the tag Dande, and sorry I’m answering this almost 2 weeks late!

Most popular fic: This is Not my Beautiful House

Rated T, 33,230 words, 9 chapters

Summary:

Crawly wakes up in a place he doesn't recognize. The last thing he remembers is being ordered to "make some trouble" up on Earth. Someone has dressed him in ridiculously tight clothes and cut off all his hair, and now there's an angel calling him by a different name and being nicer to him than anyone ever has.

Clearly, there's been some catastrophic misunderstanding.

I posted this in March and April of 2020, and...well, I was writing it as a coping mechanism, and a lot of people at the time were reading fanfic as a coping mechanism, so it got a huge response and ended up being shared on a few much more popular blogs. I mean, it’s a good fic, but the timing must have helped a lot because the stats for this page are frankly kind of ridiculous and I’m still floored when I see how many people have read and liked this fic.

Hidden Gem 1: Broken Records

Rated G, 3,421 words

Summary:

After Aziraphale turns him down a second time, Crowley is having a hard time not even thinking about him. He tries distracting himself with his favorite band's music, and sorts through which albums he wants to bring with him to Alpha Centuri. Unfortunately, too many songs remind him of what he's leaving behind.

This was one of the first fics I ever wrote, and the second that I posted, but I’m still really happy with how it came out years later. Fun fact, I wrote half of this late at night, and half in an airport the next day, and all of it while very jet lagged, and I think it helped the words flow better. Bonus fun fact, the name of the document in my drive is “Crowley’s break-up playlist.”

Hidden Gem 2: Ships in the Night

Rated G, 14,939 words, 9 chapters

Sixty-four years after their argument, Crowley dreams about Aziraphale. There's nothing unusual about that, but for some reason, he can’t seem to let this dream go.

Neither can Aziraphale.

I feel like I always bring up this one when I’m invited to talk about my fic, but I still think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written. Lots of pining and miscommunications, and I’m not sure what else to say about it besides that.

Tagging @ngkiscool, @zadusk, @wick-de-la-vela and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate!

#cyankelpie answers #cyankelpie rambles #this is such a good game #I love the opportunity to talk about my lesser-known fics #thanks again Dande <3 #hope those tags actually worked this time

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bookofmirth · 3 years

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I saw your recent response to an anon where you mentioned the drama that occurred the other day based around bookprofessor’s post. Obviously you don’t have to respond to this or publish it if you do not wish but I just wanted to bring up that while it is important to focus on the real life issues at hand, the OP was hypocritical in her post which is why people were getting upset. She was preaching against ableism while simultaneously flaunting her IQ and degree which is a form of ableism. She was speaking out against racism while ending her post using the racial slur “cracker” when talking about the possibly Caucasian Twitter elriels.

Obviously she had some important points but it was completely overshadowed by her participation in the hate speech and prejudice that she was speaking out against.

This does not in any way justify the nasty messages she received but on the same hand, I do not blame anyone that called her out for her hypocrisy. I hope you can understand why her post was so negatively received and how flawed it was. My hope is that one day everyone can just ignore the negativity, report those who are being racist/prejudiced in any way, and block those who are just being loud and who you don’t wish to see content from. But unfortunately I do not see that happening any time soon.

There are a few things I want to address in this because I think it's a good moment for the fandom to step back and reflect on how we treat one another, how we react to such issues, and how we behave moving forward.

First off, thanks for explaining your point of view without being antagonistic. I do think that everyone's emotional reactions to the post were valid. I do NOT think their responses, in terms of words and actions, were valid. Now before I move forward, I want to clarify that when I use the word "you", I am referring to anyone who may have had the response I am describing - not you personally, anon. Also please don’t freak out about how long this is, as a majority of it is a response to the fandom in general, not you in particular.

What was - and wasn’t - said in the original post

In this post, there were completely valid criticisms of the way that people in this fandom behave, and it wasn’t “generalizing” a certain group, it was literal, actual proof of things that had been said, by multiple people. I’m not going to get too into what Alyssa argued because her critiques of those tweets was flawless. The original post had very valid criticisms of what was happening on Twitter. Alyssa exposed the actually racist, homophobic, and imperialistic underpinnings of those tweets.

However, a lot of people are stuck on the bits before and after those critiques. @bookprofessor apologized for different aspects of her post in a few different asks. There were perhaps better ways that some of those things could have been phrased, some things that could have been left out. And she apologized. People can accept that apology or not but we can’t act like it didn’t happen. Like she didn’t reflect and learn to do better.

However, the people she was calling out have not done the same thing, and if anything, comments that focus more on Alyssa’s tone than why she wrote the post in the first place lets those people off the hook.

On cracker - Using the word "cracker" is not racist in the same way that using racial slurs against POC is. Is it prejudiced? Yes. But you cannot say that it is the same thing when that is demonstrably untrue, given centuries of oppressive history. No one has been oppressed for being white. Those are not the same. Reverse racism is not a thing because a white person punching down on POC is NOT AT ALL the same thing as a POC punching up at white people. The actions look the same, but the impact is so unequal it’s not even funny.

Racism is a systemic, institutionalized problem. It is not defined by individual actions, though those actions can either support or challenge racism. When someone calls a white person a cracker, there isn’t centuries of oppression giving power to and reinforcing that statement. That is not a “gotcha” moment.

Saying “I have x IQ” or “I have X degrees” is not ableist. I’m sorry to whoever told you it was ableist (again, not you specifically anon but people who had read the “aw shucks guys” vagueblogs about it), but it’s not. Those are facts. I have no idea what my IQ is, but I have five degrees from institutions of higher education. Me saying that is in no way ableist.

Often, people mention those things to be elitist, yes. Sometimes, they can be used to say “hey I know more about this than you”. They can be used in a way that tries to make themselves feel superior. I suspect that this is the impression that a lot of people got of the post. However, there is a fine line between saying “hey that’s elitist” and professing anti intellectualism. Which is perhaps a side issue so I’ll let that go for now.

Another reason that people mention their degrees or qualifications is to establish their background knowledge and credibility. If I were to say “hey y’all I have two MA degrees” (which is true) I am not being ableist! It is a fact! It is factual! And I worked my ass off for those, I will be in student loan debt until I die for those, I have every right to mention them if I want to, and often I do so in order to establish my credibility, to explain the position I am coming from. And my prior knowledge of these topics is relevant when we are talking about literature since that’s what my degrees were on - literature and linguistics. That is why Alyssa mentioned her background, though she did pair it with comments about other people, for which she has apologized.

My final point about this is that I 1000% understand feeling insecure or less than because of educational attainment. I dropped out of high school. I had a complex about that for a long, long time. But I also know that if I took offense at someone else saying they had a PhD, then that offense is about me, not them. Someone else’s inferiority complex is not reason for people to pretend to be less than they are.

If those two comments are what overshadowed the bigger, more important issue for a lot of the readers of that post, then y’all allowed them to overshadow those more important issues. I am 99% sure that someone right now is reading this and thinking “but Leslie, it was the way that she said it!” Boy have I got some news for you!

How we react

This next section is not specific to this ask; instead, it is a discussion of how the fandom responded. If it were only one person who had said “but her tone” then I wouldn��t need to make this point. The fact that multiple people are exhibiting the behavior explained below is what makes this a cultural problem within the acotar fandom.

The main argument I saw on the post itself, and indeed any time I see people bring up how nasty Twitter can be, is that “it was a joke” and “that’s how stan Twitter works”.

No.

Those responses were quite useful for this post, though! So buckle up everyone, because I am going to talk about gaslighting, racism, respectability politics, and tone policing. While I understand that some people might have taken personal offense to what was said, there is a much bigger issue at stake that has nothing to do with individual feelings, and everything to do with ensuring that POC stay silenced and white supremacy is upheld.

Back to the “but it’s a joke” thing. Thanks for gaslighting! Great example of that, person I’m not going to tag! Gaslighting is when you make someone question their experiences, when you try to make them think “wait, did I really feel that way? Is my feeling about that valid? Do I need to re-evaluate my response to this?? Am I blowing this out of proportion???” And saying “it’s just a joke” is a perfect way to do that. Did I say something accidentally sexist? It’s just a joke, nbd! Now you’re the problem, because you didn’t understand my joke and laugh!!!

Saying “it’s a joke” or “oh they are old/young/ignorant, they will learn” is not a good response to... anything. It takes the responsibility off the people who are doing the harm, and putting it onto the people who were hurt. And in this case, anyone who read those tweets and found them harmful (which should be everyone?) is completely valid. You aren’t lesser for being angry or emotional or for seeing a problem where other people saw a joke. The people who see those things as acceptable jokes are the ones in the wrong.

This is a tactic that is used against women all the time. Any time a woman is sexually harassed at work or online, for example, and she gets upset about it, and someone chimes in with “oh they weren’t serious, can’t you take a joke?” So you can imagine what this is like for women of color.

It is a very, very common tactic for people of color to be silenced via tone policing and respectability politics. Tone policing and respectability politics are very closely related, especially in this context. The idea is that if Alyssa had just written that post in just the right way, it would have been more palatable to white people, and therefore okay to write. The idea that if she had tried to be “understanding” or “see it from their perspective” or understand that it’s “just a joke” are all ways to silence and de-legitimize any accurate, valid criticisms that were made of those tweets. It effectively re-routes the conversation away from the real issues, and to the person trying to bring them up. It’s essentially an ad hominem attack in disguise.

We see respectability politics in media when people of color who act or dress or speak like white people are afforded more respect. Or any time that a person of color is pulled over and people say, “well if they had just done what the police officer asked...” There is a pervasive idea that if people just “act” properly, aka if you act white, then the police won’t feel antagonized and try to kill arrest you. If we are nice enough, meek enough, smile enough, etc. then we will be accepted.

When we tone police, we refuse to allow marginalized people the right to be angry. We say that "hey, we can only have this discussion if you leave emotion, which you rightfully feel, at the door, and we can only continue this discussion if you behave in a way that makes me feel comfortable." But guess what? It isn’t about you! These discussions are often highly uncomfortable. There is no nice way to tell someone they are being racist. And yet somehow, that is the ever-moving goalpost. It seems reasonable, right? “Just be civil, be nice, don’t insult each other!” And there is that. But those criteria change constantly, to the point where anyone (white) at any time can say “WHOA WHOA THIS IS MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE???” Then we find ourselves at zero, and suddenly the focus of attention has shifted away from the actual problem.

Before we go further, I want to say this: people have a right to be angry. They do not need to make their anger palatable or tasteful for the consumption of others (read: white people).

We saw this last summer, and I’m not sure how the message didn’t get across. But people are rightfully angry about racism. They are angry about the murder of people of color by police, they are angry about lack of quality education, or clean water, of centuries of oppression that have led to this very moment when all of that ceases to matter because a white woman’s feelings got hurt one time.

And that is what pisses me off so much. There is no way in this world that we could criticize tweets like those that everyone would agree with, and that everyone would “approve” of, that would be “nice” enough and yet still be impactful and make the authors of those tweets understand the gravity of what they have done.

The least we can do is allow one another to express our anger, our outrage, because it’s highly likely that those people know exactly what the fuck they are doing, and they do not fucking care. By criticizing a woman of color for the way in which she chose to engage with this topic, we are avoiding the issue and letting the people in those tweets off the hook.

There were many responses to that post that were positive, that agreed with Alyssa. There are a ton of people who disagree with those tweets, who find them disgusting, who understand exactly how and why they are problematic. That should be what we are talking about. Getting to the core of the argument, on that post or any about racism or other problematic behavior in fandom, requires getting past our own egos. It requires us to be able to step back, say “hm this thing is frustrating but there is a bigger picture here”. It’s not easy, and I recognize that.

The fact that it is a common tactic though? To say “hey this hurt me personally and so I’m going to ignore any valid points you made?” That feeds directly into centuries of white supremacy because it, once again, silences POC and makes them try to play a losing game. And they will always lose, because no matter how hard they try to play the white game, the goalposts are constantly shifting. So you know what? Fuck the game, and fuck respectability politics, and fuck tone policing and “uwu be nice guys” because when it comes to things like racism and sexism, I don’t expect the people who deserve to be criticized to be nice. In fact, trying to be nice only serves to fuck POC over in the end.

Indeed, in response to that post, certain blogs have taken the opportunity to position themselves as “the nice ones” or “the ones who would never” or “uwu let’s be nice guys” while completely ignoring the fact that a woman of color was attacked for calling out racism. And yes - that was the point of her post. People getting hung up on mentions of her degree are (intentionally or not, it doesn’t matter) completely obfuscating the fact that that is not what her post was about, which was to call out disgusting behavior. idk how many words the post actually was, but essentially, people are focusing on 5% of it to the detriment of the 95% that was actually really important shit. These types of vagueblog posts about the issue fall into exactly what I am talking about - these are people who have decided to look at this issue, see how Alyssa (and anyone else who dares speak up) has approached it, and intentionally try to act like they are “better” because they can be “rational” and “kind”. Newsflash, if you don’t have something to be angry about, then being “nice” about racism isn’t that much of a flex. If it didn’t bother you, then congratulations. That doesn’t make you better than people it did bother. You just got lucky this time, and decided to use that to your advantage to look like the good guy.

I am not saying that all calls for peace are doing this. Obviously it’s what we all want. This is the worst I have seen this fandom in the 4+ years I’ve been here. But we cannot have that by ignoring the real problems and pretending that if we are all just nice to each other, then we will solve racism and sexism and all bullying in the fandom will stop.

So combining all of this - the gaslighting, the tone policing, and what do you get? You get a fandom that refuses to actually engage critically with its own problems and take accountability for them. You get a fandom that decides that it’s easier to be distracted by this one mean comment over here than it is to engage in the fact that you know what, the culture in this fandom has actually turned incredibly disgusting and a lot of people are just okay with it. You’ve got a fandom that is using the tools of white supremacy to avoid the discussions that should actually be taking place. Maybe people don’t realize that that’s what they are doing. But if someone still thinks that after reading this post, then godspeed my friend, I hope you enjoy Twitter.

Okay so my last thing I want to say is that I didn’t come to all of this knowledge fresh from the womb. I do a lot of work, in my personal life and my professional life, to be better. So here is a list of books that I have found particularly helpful:

How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America also by Ibram X. Kendi

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo (side note, I was kinda meh about this one but the chapter “White Women’s Tears” is particularly helpful)

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment by Patricia Hill Collins

I’m not going to talk specifically about Alyssa’s post anymore, but if anyone wants to continue talking about these broader issues going on in the fandom, I am game. (I really should be grading papers though, so it might take a bit.)

#cw racism #acotar #acosf #acotar fandom #fandom wank #fandom things #this is the long post i mentioned earlier #i will link it in my meta post

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itjazzbicch · 3 years

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Collaboration of Emotions

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader

Summary: When Bad Bunny tries flirting with the reader, she politely turns him down because little does anyone know, the guy who has her heart is her years-long friend, Damian Priest and when Damian sees the flirting for himself, he shows that he feels the same way about the reader...

Warnings: SMUT!! !(18+!!)

Requested by: No one But I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2990

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @justamess44 @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @yungbludjazz360

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF

2021 was a new year, with a lot of changes and unlike last year, these changes were for the better. On Raw, I was getting myself into the women's championship picture again. There was so much action and some new faces.

Showing favoritism really isn't my thing, but when it came to a special someone that was now on Raw, it couldn't be helped.

Damian Priest and I, well, we weren't dating but we spent a lot of time together while I was in NXT, and with every given day, we grew closer and closer, ready to hit it off, but then I got moved up to Raw. Things really didn't change much after that and then he came up to Raw after the Royal Rumble.

That made me beyond excited and I loved cheering him on while he made his main roster debut and poking fun with everyone alongside his friend, Bad Bunny.

All of us were on a roll with the new year and WrestleMania right ahead of us and I was making the best of it.

On Raw, I was backstage, actually waiting for Damian because he had a match coming up and I was just super pumped, there to support him as we've always done for one another and while waiting for Damian, I had a special guest.

"Y/N!" Bad Bunny smiled as he exited Damian's locker room, seeing me sitting on one of the crates in the hall.

"Hey!" I smiled, being kind as he came my way, offering a hug, "How's it going, champ?"

Bunny appreciated my comment, smiling at the 24/7 Championship that was on his shoulder, "I couldn't be better."

"That's great to hear," I smirked, "I'm happy for you. You've been doing amazing around here and you're keeping up with the music business still. I don't know how you do it! It was a little over-bearing for me!"

Bad Bunny and I actually had a friendship that was more business-related because before I became a pro wrestler, I was a professional singer and songwriter, still writing songs actually.

"You just gotta make the best of both," Bunny sighed, "You got the skills. We should do a collaboration one day!"

"I'm down!" I smirked, actually excited by the thought, with both of us being big in the music industry and wrestling, it would be such a smart move, "I always loved your music. Some of them I know to word for word."

"¿Tú hablas español?" Bunny smirked, a bit surprised that I knew Spanish, wanting to hear me speak it.

"Sé más española de lo que piensas" I smiled, blowing his mind a little, letting him know that I knew more Spanish than he thought I did.

"Si no fueras lo suficientemente irresistible, preciosa, " Bunny cooed, really trying to be sexy by the tone of his voice and that really caught me off guard, telling me I'm irresistible and calling me gorgeous.

If that wasn't enough to make things feel awkward, things got a lot worse as I saw Damian slowly coming out of his locker room, not making a sound, but the look on his face said it all.

"If you're down, tonight after I go out there with Damian," Bunny sighed, tilting his sunglasses, really trying to persuade me, "I have a place down here, you can come over and we can collaborate. Sound good to you, hermosa?"

Quickly, I looked at Damian and felt guilt, instantly. I never liked Bunny in that way and even though I wasn't dating Damian, my feelings for him were just so strong that I felt like I was cheating or something in a way.

"I'm sorry," I sighed nervously, "But as soon as I'm done with the show, I have two hours then I have to catch a flight."

"Traveling," Bunny sighed, rolling his eyes, "Gotta love it."

"Honestly," I chuckled nervously, continuously looking to Damian; I think I was sweating too from the nervousness.

Thankfully, all of that ended as Bunny backed away, a little startled from Damian's presence. He was so quiet that he didn't realize he was there. I wanted to laugh, but the nervousness wouldn't allow me to whenever Bunny jumped, seeing Damian just standing there.

"I didn't even see you there, man," Bunny sighed, shaking off the scare, "You ready?"

"Always," Damian almost let out in a growl, looking at him, then to me.

"Dale," Bunny sighed, then smiling to me, "Bye, Y/N!"

"Bye," I sighed deeply, my anxiety through the roof, especially when I heard Bunny ask Damian:

"Estas bien, Damian?"

"No te preocupe por eso," Damian groaned, telling him not to worry about it, their voices fading as they went on their way.

Damian was not okay. I've seen the look that he gave the both of us before and it wasn't a good one. The one time I guy around here flirts with me and it had to be Bad Bunny and right in front of Damian, of all people.

If the facial expressions weren't enough to show his anger, Damian's moves in the ring sure showed it and his opponent, Elias; Well, it wasn't a good day for him, that's all I could really say. From the moment Damian walked out to the ring, to the time he pinned Elias and exited, anger was steaming off of him. At certain points, he even was pushing Bunny away from him.

I figured I'd give Damian some time to himself, and some time for myself because of the anxiety, but holding it off, gave me a gut feeling that it would only make things worse. So after about an hour, with the show still running, I finally worked up the courage to go to Damian's locker room.

I literally had to take a few deep breaths before I knocked on the door, knocking lightly, but it was enough because I heard from a deep voice:

"Who is it?"

"It's Y/N!" I informed him, listening closely as the door unlocked, hearing Damian say:

"Come in."

The second I walked in, I felt my blood pressure go through the roof, feeling my face heating up as I walked in, seeing Damian in nothing but a towel, body still wet a little from the shower. What was up with all these high-pressure situations?

Either way, I didn't want to stand there and look stupid, so I said:

"You were really fired up out there tonight, ya know, and not in a good way."

"Not in a good way?" Damian scoffed, turning his back to me.

"Well, yeah," I tried to chuckle, "You about murdered Elias out there. Is everything okay?"

"Wrestling is wrestling," Damian sighed, whispering under his breath, "Not like you would know."

"Excuse me?" I scoffed, actually becoming offended, "I'm the number one contender for the women's title! What championship are you ready to win?"

Damian slowly turned to me with a mean smug on his face, exchanging another blow once he huffed, "Well, what kind of women's champion just sits backstage and flirts with guys all night?"

"Flirting with who?" I asked, truly wanting to hear his answer.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Damian groaned, referencing Bunny.

"And if you know exactly what happened, you would have noticed how he was flirting with me and I turned him down!" I shot out quickly, "Why are you so jealous about it?"

"I-I-" Damian began, choking on his words as he turned to face me, just giving up after a moment.

Finally, I was the one who admitted the truth, taking a step forward with my head down, exhaling deeply as I said:

"The reason why you're jealous is the same reason why I told him no, Damian."

There was a moment of silence between us, until I approached him, saying, "You have no idea how guilty I felt, letting him flirt with me because of you and I know that this sounds ridiculous maybe, I just don't know how to tell you that-"

Before I could finish, Damian cut me off, sighing, "Enough with words."

All of the sweet, loving, heart-felt feelings I had for Damian came to the surface and I could feel all of the same emotions from him the moment our lips touched, Damian's lips smacking right into mine and god, nothing I have ever experienced in my life has ever felt this good.

It didn't take long for my arms to wrap around his neck, even in heels I had to get on my tiptoes a bit to pull him closer, just about head over heels, literally.

I about fell over when our lips finally parted, breathless from all of it, his nose nuzzling mine, my eyes meeting his gaze as he whispered:

"If anyone's going to 'collaborate' with you, it's going to be me."

"I would never argue with that," I smirked, biting my own lip a little, giving him another kiss, pressing hard to make sure it was real and that I wasn't dreaming, but damn it was real, so real and so good, so I pulled the next move, "Looks like you're one step ahead of me on that collaboration."

"Why don't you catch up then?" Damian whispered deeply, his voice alone just giving me a rush, that intensifying once I felt his fingertips at the side of my skirt, making me break out in goosebumps as he began to unzip it.

"Don't mind if I do," I whispered back, kissing him softly while my hands assisted him, making my skirt drop to the floor.

The moment it hit the floor, Damian smiled against our kiss, biting at my lip while his hands wandered, sliding down my back and cupping my ass, taking a handful with his large, warm hands, fingertips now going after my panties.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for a moment like this," Damian whispered, walking me backward to the couch.

"Igualmente," I smirked, letting him know I felt the same, giving him so more help as my crop top came next, freeing my breasts.

My body was like a new land for him to explore, his hands so soft against my skin, touching anything he could, filling my body with even more warmth when his hands covered both breasts, rolling my tender nipples, about getting a moan out of me, especially when his head dipped down, taking a mouthful and sucking hard, tongue twirling all around my sensitive nipple.

We both couldn't help but laugh as I was ready to fall back on the couch, doing so, but Damian not coming along with me, laughing more as I landed with a hard bounce.

At the sight of my breasts bouncing though, Damian instinctively licked his lips, his tall stature making him tower above me as I sat on the couch, my eyes quickly falling down, following the movement of his towel, watching it fall to the floor, my eyes fixing right on his hard cock that stood tall.

"See something you like?" Damian spoke with pride, seeing his body break out and goosebumps, tensing up a bit whenever I stroked him softly, cooing:

"More than like."

What really got him is when I leaned forward, my mouth closing around his crown, sucking hard, tongue swirling all around, making sure I got the slit, my hand working the rest of his length. It didn't take long for Damian to really fill it, taking a handful of my hair as I started to down him more, his crown reaching the back of my throat.

"As good as it feels," Damian sighed, pulling my head back, but putting another smile on my face as he spread my legs wide, getting on the couch with me, "How about we see how good it feels somewhere else?"

The feeling of his crown rolling through my slick folds and nudging my clit, nice and slow, it was such an amazing feeling, making me want to moan even more now, just taking the time to enjoy the feeling.

"Damn, I really make you that wet?" Damian chuckled, doing it some more.

"You have no idea," I moaned out slightly, biting my lip at the feeling.

I just knew Damian wanted to hear more, getting off from it and by teasing me while his crown circled and teased my entrance, whispering in my ear:

"I have no idea? I think I do now. Have I made you wet before?"

"You don't know how many times I've had to contain myself, leave a room, take a cold shower, all because of you," I whispered back, my tongue dancing with his as he kissed me again, but quickly after, making me gasp and moan all over his lips.

If my body wasn't filled with enough heat, Damian added to it even more, slowly splitting me wide, giving me inch after inch slowly, smiling at all of the moans and noises I was making. Just being so full, and my entire body so warm, feeling every inch go up my sensitive walls and dragging back down as he began to feed me slow thrusts.

"Well now," Damian whispered to me, kissing at my neck, leaving some bites behind, "You won't have to contain yourself anymore."

At the end of his sentence, he pulled down every inch, down to just his crown, feeding me a quick thrust, snapping a bit hard, his hips smacking into mine, making me moan loudly:

"Damian!"

"How'd I know that you'd moan my name so beautifully?" Damian smirked, repeating that same acting and getting the same reaction out of me every time, the feeling more pleasure than anything I've ever experienced.

"You thought about it before?" I was barely able to get out between breaths, arms wrapping around his neck while he said to me:

"You should know the answer to that."

With a deep groan, Damian began to pick up his pace, making my walls tighten around his girth, and with all the pleasure, the pressure hitting my clit, his body pinned against mine, so much heat trapped between them, it was all driving me crazy and it never felt so good.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, it did. Damian flipped me over, taking his turn to sit on the couch, putting me on his lap, still inside of me, and sliding even deeper, taking a tight grip on my hips, helping me roll them a little, feeling his crown hit my sweet spot each time.

I was still getting used to the new feeling, moving my hips slowly, but Damian gladly gave me some encouragement.

"Too much for you to handle?" Damian whispered, "I imagined you'd take the opportunity to ride all over me."

"Imagined?" I chuckled, moving my hair away from my face so I could stare directly into his eyes.

"What? A man can't have thoughts and dreams?" Damian smirked, smiling more as I responded:

"Yes, but what I meant was, why imagine when it's going to happen."

It felt even better to see Damian's head fall back for a moment, letting out a brief moan of his own as I picked up my hips, bouncing onto him, taking all of his length every time, planting some kisses of my own along his neck, whispering to him:

"But it is nice to know how you really think about me."

"How can't I be crazy about you?" Damian whispered, planting a firm smack on my ass, hands following the movement of my hips each time they rolled, gripping on even tighter when I began bouncing again.

"Again," I huffed, kissing him hard, hips moving even faster, "Igualmente. You drive me all kinds of crazy."

"Show me how crazy," Damian whispered, biting at my lower lip as he kissed me and I gladly gave him what he wanted, riding him like all hell, making my lip pop free from his grip as his head fell back again, handles fondling my breasts, trying to distract himself a little but it wasn't enough.

I had to power through my hips wanting to buckle, but all the pleasure was just too good, taking all his length each time, meeting his base, hips rolling, and not slowing down for even a second. It became a little too much for me even, but I was able to ride it all out, praising him with more moans and babbles once he picked up his hips, putting in his own work.

"F-fuck, Damian," I whined out desperately, both of us feeling my walls clench even tighter, knowing how close I was.

"You're really worked up huh?" Damian cooed, his finger finding my clit, edging me on by rubbing it rapidly in circles.

"Yeah," I moaned out salaciously, "I'm so close!"

"Get closer then, baby," Damian encouraged, moving his hips even faster than mine, making gasp for air. It felt like my body was ready to give way, using his shoulders for support, gripping on tight as I felt my walls tighten like a death grip, throbbing around his cock, then this huge wave of wet heat, gushing down onto him.

"Got damn, Y/N," Damian let out, a groan rumbling in his chest, giving me a few soft thrusts, then pushing me down by my hips, pinning them to his.

"Oh my god, Damian," I huffed, eyes rolling back a little, laying my head on his chest, body shaking from the aftershock of his heat shooting into me.

"So," Damian huffed, tilting my chin up so I could look into his eyes, "You know what this means, right?"

Instantly, it felt like I wanted to blush, my cheeks getting warm again as he stroked my cheek, responding with:

"No more hiding feelings about each other?"

"We don't need to," Damian smirked, kissing me softly, "You're all mine."

I returned his kiss with a smile as well, cooing, "And I'm not going anywhere."

#wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fic #wwe smut #wwe oneshot #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest imagine #damian priest fic #damian priest smut #read and enjoy'

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dont-let-me-drown-in-you · 3 years

Text

Because of you, idiot!

Summary: Victoria suddenly comes distance, and you try to find out why.

Pairing : Victoria De Angelis x Reader(neutral)

Genre: Angst(I guess), Romantic fluff

Words:1117

Warnings: My writing probably will kill you! Most of the Italian phrases are translated with Google Translate, so I am terribly sorry if I assaulted someone in Italian.

A/N: Laura and Paula convinced me to post it, so you know who to blame😂

Tagging — @oro-e-diamanti @mywritingonlyfans, @wannaabe-writer

Lately, every time you hung out with the guys, Victoria seemed off. You had the impression that she was avoiding you. She did her best not to stay with you in the same room, and she answered you with one word every time you asked her something or maybe not at all, pretending that she did not hear what you said.

You could not understand what was happening or if you had done something that made her step away from you. She also pulled away every time you went to touch her, as if you were something toxic.

The whole situation had started to affect your mood, and you constantly seemed melancholic, and you did not talk as much as usual.

There were also, times when you did not even want to meet them, but you knew you could not avoid them constantly. You said to yourself that there is no problem between Victoria and you, and that her behaviour was simply due to tiredness or some other personal issue that has been bothering her lately.

One afternoon you sat on the grass a few feet away from the pool, lost in your thoughts, when you heard a voice talking to you. You looked up and saw Thomas standing above you with a glass of iced lemonade in his hand. He offered it to you, and you thanked him with a smile. You let a few minutes pass before you realized that he had spoken to you.

‘’Cosa hai detto?’’

‘’Is everything okay biscottino? You seem a bit down’’ he asked as he sat next to you on the ground.

‘’Yes, I am just a little tired.’’ But then you thought of asking Thomas discreetly if he knew what was going on with Victoria, since he knew her better than anyone. ‘’Can I ask you a question?’’

‘’Si certo’’ he said with a sweet smile.

‘’Is Vic okay?’’

‘’Yeah, why?’’ he asked, confused.

‘’I don’t know. She seems icy. It is as if she tolerates me by force. Have I done something I don’t know?’’

‘’No biscottino’’ he said sweetly.

‘’I do not know. Every time I try to touch her, she steps away as if I am holding a power cord or something’’

‘’That’s weird'' he said, surprised.

‘’I know, right?’’ you agreed.

‘’No, I mean-’’ he started, but he stopped.

‘’Yes?’’you asked impatiently.

‘’She is only like this when she has a crush'' said, bringing his hand to the back of his neck in embarrassment.‘’ Porca puttana’’ he exclaimed when he realized what was going on.

You stood up abruptly. Thunderstruck! That’s what you felt when you found out that there might be a possibility she- No, no, it could not be true. You have always been madly in love with her, but you had accepted the fact that you are never going to be together because you did not want to ruin your friendship, but at this moment you were about to.

You went up to her room in a flash, where she had been hiding since you arrived. But here and there you could see her shadow in the window looking at you.

Every reasonable person would be happy if they learned that their crush had the same feelings as them, but you were angry.

You felt mainly disappointed. After so long, you thought that she would tell you straight to your face what is happening and that she would not hide behind this behavior.

You really believed that you had done something wrong, and you spent nights wondering what happened. So yes, in your mind, you thought you had every right to be mad at her.

You kicked the door of her room open with such force that you thought you had broken it. But you were too upset to even care. ‘’What is your problem?’’ you shouted.

Victoria jumped in horror and almost fell out of bed, ‘’Che diavolo? What is my problem? You came in like the fucking FBI or something! I could be naked!’’

‘’Oh come on! It would not be something that I haven't seen before! So tell me, what is your problem?’’

‘’I don’t know what you mean’’ she said, and she returned to what she was doing before you came in like a caveman.

‘’Do not test my patience, Victoria!’’ you said, but she did not seem to care. ‘’You know what?Fanculo Vic! I am done!’’

"What do you mean?"she demanded to know.

"I mean, I don't care about you anymore. You can walk around acting like a brat with the guys tolerating you, but I can't anymore. The friendship or whatever the hell that was between us is over," you said, and you walked towards the door, only to be stopped by Victoria grabbing your arm.

"Aspetti! Per favore!"she whined.

You felt the fingers brushing over your arm as you stood there, refusing to look at her. "Mi dispiace davvero"

"Too late, Victoria!" you announced.

"You can't leave me, please"

"Watch me!" you said as you released your arm from her hold.

‘’Non posso vivere senza di te’’ her voice cracked.

‘’Oh trust me, you can’’ you said sarcastically.

‘’Ma non voglio!’’ she protested.

‘’Not my problem, Vic! Not anymore’’ you shouted, giving her a cold look.

"Io...- Ti prego. Rimani con me per favore." she whispered your name, "Sei tutto per me.Sono innamorata di te." her voice cracked again. "Per favore! Sei il grande amore della mia vita." she cried.*

You turned around and looked at her for a moment before you rushed towards her. "Infine!" you whispered.

‘’Che cosa!’’ was the only thing she managed to say before your hands grabbed her face, and you crushed her lips with yours. The kiss was sweet, and her lips were warm. Her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, but you broke the kiss.

"I already know you had feelings for me. Or at least I suspected it"

"How?" she asked.

"Thomas accidentally said something and I just connected the dots. Oh, by the way, the whole thing with the door and all, was just a show" you admitted.

"What do you mean?" she looked at you puzzled.

"I knew the only way to get you to admit your feelings for me was to make you believe you were losing me." you confessed while you refused to look at her.

''Figlio di puttana'' she shouted, but before you could say anything you heard someone scream in shook.

"Che diavolo! Cos'è successo qua?" said Damiano with pure shook in his eyes.

You stared at Victoria and you end up laughing at his reaction. "I will explain that to you later"

*I beg you. Stay with me, please. You're everything for me. I'm in love with you. Please! You are the love of my life.

★──────────★─────────★

#victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #victoria de angelis fanfiction

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emptymasks · 3 years

Note

I’ve seen a lot about your thoughts on Elisabeth and Tanz der Vampire, and they’ve been really helpful getting into those musicals! But you have a huge list of other musicals that people can get into…

So I was wondering if you had any musicals you hadn’t mentioned in a while that you really like or would like to talk about??? (preferably something from your lists that has a blue heart please?)

Oh if only you knew how long the list of European musicals really is... I however have only seen 9 (if I counted right) and I have a lot more that I still need to watch. Oh also, I only put the blue hearts on any musicals that I was providing multiple links for so people could see which version I reccoment the most highly. If a musical only had one link and didn't have a blue heart it doesn't mean I didn't like it.

I've watched: Mozart das Musical, Elisabeth das Musical, Tanz der Vampire, 3 Musketiers, Mozart L'Opéra Rock, Dracula (the Graz production), Rebecca das Musical, Roméo et Juliette and Schikaneder.

If you enjoyed those two you're likely to enjoy Rebecca! It's written by the same composer/lyricist team as Elisabeth and Mozart (and same lyricist as Tanz der Vampire - though if you're listening to any German musical, original or translated, 90% of the time the lyrics will have been done by Michael Kunze that man is everywhere). The Stuttgart production has my favourite set design of any musical! Well... Actually probably. There are so many big set pieces it's insane, way more than I've seen in some Broadway and West End musicals. You can tell so much work went into it and the visual effects that I won't spoil if you don't know the plot but if you know the plot you know what I mean by the effects at the end are so good and I didn't expect them at all and I freaked out so much the first time I watched it. Jan Ammann as Maxim in the Stuttgart production is the best Maxim. No I won't take any argument. Other actors feel a bit one-dimensional to me, but the way Maxim acts at times comes from trauma and some actors and productions seem to forget that, but Jan really goes for it and his Maxim is a lot more sympathetic and I just want to give him a hug. Pia Douwes as Mrs Danvers, if you've seen her in Elisabeth what more do I need to say, she's amazing. A musical goddess. Her Danny is a bit more wild than some, but she kills it. My favourite video, which I put the blue heart next to, has understudy Christina Patten as Ich/I, but I adore her she's my favourite. She adds some spunk to Ich in act 2 and her voice is so pretty and aaaa. I just love these three actors together in these roles.

Roméo et Juliette is another favourite of mine! It's hard to choose which one to recommend, but it has to be the original 2000/2001 production because of the sweetness and chemistry and voices of Damien Sargue and Cecilia Cara as Romeo and Juliet. They're so pretty and work together so well. The only reason I say it's hard to pick is Mercutio. I adore him, but in the original production they cut out a song they had planned for him and he doesn't really do much at all? In the 2010 revival they gave him two more songs and you care about him so much more and John Eyzen plays such a good Mercutio. So I'd recommend the original but if you want to like Mercutio more, which you should he's amazing, I'd recommend watching at least clips of John's. It's an interesting musical because all productions are non-replica and also change around the order of songs, add or take away characters, all sorts. The Hungarian production is also very popular and I'm sure it's great, I just haven't' gotten around to watching it yet.

Mozart das Musical was the first non-English language musicals I watched so I have a fondness for it, but it's not my favourite. However, I do realise I have forgotten most of the songs and the few I've gone back and listened to are better than I remember.

Dracula isn't super popular and I understand why, I don't love the plot of the Dracula/Mina romance in it, however. I do love this musical because despite how I find the plot lacking, the songs are so good! At least, I love them. And the actors are all doing a great job. And it's one of the few Dracula adaptions to keep Quincy Morris so they get bonus points for that.

Mozart L'Opéra Rock and modern French musicals... This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but they're often more like pop-rock operas now. So if you're not into musicals with that style of music it might not be for you, but I still enjoyed it even though I didn't think I would because of the style of music. Mozart and Salieri's chemistry is very good, Salieri's bisexual crisis song is iconic, actually all of Salieri's songs are iconic.

Schikaneder... eh. I didn't like it that much and I didn't really like any of the songs. There's no English subtitles, but someone sent me the entire English synopsis and I watched it with a German friend so I had double the help of understanding it. Doesn't mean others might not like it, just none of the songs stood out to me and I had no desire to listen to any of them again. It's by Steven Scharwz of Wicked fame and I love Wicked, but I didn't love this.

3 Musketiers!! God it's so underrated and not spoken about within the European musical fandom that I even forget about it and literally forgot to write about it earlier in this post. It's a Dutch musical (though did also have a German production) and it's really good!? Faces you might know are Pia Douwes as Milady de Winter, Stanley Burlseon as Cardinal Richeliu (Netherlands Der Tod in Elisabeth), Henk Poort as Athos (Netherlands Phantom and Jean Valjean). The dialgoue is funny, the songs are good, some of the set pieces have no right to exist in this tiny musical?? They made this giant boat and pelt the actors with rain just for one 5 minute song and then we never see the boat again? And while I recommend the Dutch one because Dutch musicals deserve more love and it has official English subtitles!! Official ones, not fanmade! I have the DVD and it comes with English subtitles (and Dutch and German subtitles) which is so nice. The German version is also good, good cast, Pia came back and Uwe Kroger as Richeliu and omg they rearranged the songs and the German arrangement of Nicht Aus Stein is insane and amazing and frankly iconic.

That's all of the ones I have watched. Next on my list to watch are Rudolf and Notre Dame de Paris, both of which I have listened to some songs from and already love (I've listened to way too much of Notre Dame de Paris and am so in love).

I want to start organising streams where I'll host the musical either by getting the video from Youtube or my own files and anyone who wants to join can come along and watch with us, chat with us if you want or just watch there's no pressure to chat. I thought about doing weekly streams? This would also make me finally watch some of the ones I've been meaning to for ages. But I keep wondering about time zones. I'm in the UK and would want to stream at about 11pm at the latest (11pm BST/GMT+1 as we’re in daylight savings at the moment, if the streams continue past the end of October which would be wild then I’ll make a note of the time change that would be to 11pm GMT), which I know can work for other UK and Europeans, but for any Americans would be in the afternoon. So, I wondered if doing it on a weekend would be better? Then it doesn't matter if it's in the afternoon? Maybe Saturday evenings then? It would either be Saturday evenings UK time or Friday evenings UK time. What do you guys think? If people are down then I'll make a separate post with a list of what we'll be watching each week and if anything happens to me that means I can't stream one week then everything will just get pushed back a week, but I don't see that as likely to happen. And I'll only be streaming those that have English subtitles, so don't worry about not being able to understand anything.

edit: am also open to 10pm bst if others want that, im just trying to think of what time works best for everyone so sorry if 11pm is a little late for europeans, i know 10pm could be a little early for americans. also in case it sounded like these are the only musicals i will be streaming, thats not so, ive got more than just the ones mentioned on this list!

(Tagging some people who I know are or might be interested in streams to see what you think of that plan: @sirona-art @ringwraith100 @tanz-der-trash @smilingwoland @the-weird-dane @witchgaye @ami-fidele @kisstheghouls @looking-4-happiness @ladysapphire928 @sloanedestler @tinywound @persephonaae @phoenixdewinter @uwucoffee @freshbloodandgothicism )

#european musicals #mozart das musical #3 musketiers #dracula the musical #retj #romeo et juliette #mozart l'opera rock #mozart l'opéra rock #musical theatre #musicals #broadway #musicaledit #rebecca das musical #rebecca the musical #answeredasks #non english language musicals

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Pasteles de Gloria (part 3)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: T for mature themes (mentions of sex and violence)

Summary: Javier thanks you...appropriately, this time. Connie and Javier have a chat <3

Tags: Mention of blood. Reader starts to have Thots (same, girl)

Word count: 3,740

A/N: So their POVs in this chapter overlap a little bit...sorry if that throws anyone off, I’m still getting used to writing reader insert fics. The dessert and the Spanish are explained at the end :) Enjoy!

Masterlist

You hadn’t seen Javier in over a week. The first few days after that conversation had been a whirlwind of emotions- worry over whether you’d said the right things, hope that he might feel the same (plus fear that he wouldn’t), and eventually anger at his total lack of response. Until Connie told you that he and Steve had been sent on some mission.

“Nothing dangerous, but they’ll be gone for a few days. Javi must not have gotten the chance to say goodbye.” Uttered without a second’s hesitation, like it was unthinkable that Javier wouldn’t have explained himself to you if he could.

Maybe Connie knew something you didn’t.

So another several days had passed, with worry becoming the dominant theme; all your other initial feelings faded into the background as you wondered how ‘not dangerous’ DEA work could really be.

You’re settling in for another restless evening when there’s a rap on the door. Your nerves leap and jangle- you aren’t supposed to being seeing Connie again until tomorrow, so who…?

You peer through the cracked door before wrenching it open the rest of the way, your heart roaring in your ears. Javier Peña stands before you. He holds a bottle in one hand and a paper bag in the other, and looks uncharacteristically nervous. You forget you’re theoretically supposed to be upset with him as you stare at each other, wide-eyed.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Uh, sorry I disappeared on you. Boss sent me and Steve on a mission, I had to leave from work.” So Connie had been right on both accounts. He hadn’t had time to call you, and he would have if he could.

When you wait, he continues. “I thought, since I interrupted your evening the last time I was here, I could make it up to you.” He holds up the bottle, which you’re surprised to recall is indeed the same wine that you had opened the night he came to your place after reopening his wound.

You look at him in wonder, but he’s not finished. “Also, well...I can’t bake for shit, but I know somewhere that can. You ever had a pastel de gloria?” He lifts the paper bag, cracks a small, still-nervous grin.

“I haven’t,” you confirm, an answering smile growing on your face, touched by the sweetness of his gesture and the implications it holds.

“Well, you can try them tonight, because-” his confidence apparently bolstered by your response, he holds the bottle out to you, brow quirking in request. You take it, bemused at the prospect of there still being more to his plan, and he digs something out of his back pocket with an air of presentation. “-I found the sequel to a certain movie while at a market recently. I was going to bring it to Steve and Connie’s but...now seemed like a better time to watch it.”

You almost laugh out loud as you take in the cover of the tape in his hand. It’s the sequel to that movie night travesty, all right. That Javier would do all of this...you hardly know what to say.

You hope whatever expression is on your face is saying it for you, though, as you look up at him. “Thank you, Javier. This is...amazing.” And it is, much more so than would have been necessary to thank you for helping with his leg, or to make up for his unplanned disappearance after you turned down his proposition.

He chuckles, looking down in embarrassment. “You don’t actually have to watch this shit movie if you don’t want to. That part was just a joke.” You could swear he’s blushing, the faintest tinge of color in his cheeks beneath the white hallway lights. “But you should try these pastries, because they are something else.” He offers you the bag, his body shifting sideways slightly, as if he intends to hand off his gifts and then disappear. As if his wide, guileless, puppy dog eyes and the unconscious pout to his lips weren’t begging otherwise.

Well. “Of course I want to watch this shit movie, Javi. As long as you watch it with me.” You give him a teasing grin. “It was much more fun with a spoilsport.”

Relief spills over his features, washing the tension from his shoulders and the breath from his lungs. Turning away toward the kitchen, you miss the true extent of it, leaving the door open for him as you head back inside. “Bring those to the couch, I’ll get us some plates,” you call over your shoulder.

Javier follows more slowly, collecting himself. By the time you join him in the living room, carrying, plates, wine glasses, and napkins, he’s fiddling with your VCR. You pour the wine while he sets it up, although you find yourself distracted by the shifting valleys of muscle in his back beneath his tight-fitting shirt, the bottle in your hands suspended uselessly above a glass. You curse as you almost spill.

“Everything okay?” Javi joins you on the couch, a careful, hesitant distance away.

“Of course!” You’re quick to assure him. “Now, tell me about these pastries,” you urge, eyes sparkling. He unloads them onto a plate, stacking rounded pastries into a rough pyramid, each one golden brown, sprinkled with sugar, and the size of a small fist. His voice softens as he tells you about the bakery and the older woman who runs it, who insists everyone call her ‘abuela’, even grown men and gringos like him. How he discovered it entirely by accident one day, following his nose.

“The filling is usually pasta de guayaba- guava paste- but they can also have arequipe, or cheese, or all three. She gave me a some extras, so I’m not sure which ones are which here,” he says, suddenly brusque. He gestures for you to take one first, a look on his face you can’t quite identify.

You’re definitely at risk of drooling as you pick up a pastel, Javier watching you intently. Puff pastry flakes over your plate as you take a bite.

And close your eyes in relish. A trio of flavors oozes over your tongue, each complementing the other, all of them ensconced in a sheath of sugary, flakey pastry. The creamy, neutral tang of the cheese mellowing the tart-sweet burst of fruity guava, both flavors coated in the thick, sticky-sweet burnt sugar taste of dulce de leche.

Swallowing, your eyes pop wide to look at Javier again. It’s a near-physical reaction he has to your sudden attention, an almost-flinch away from it as he awaits your verdict.

“Javier.” Your voice is serious. With slow deliberance, you lean toward him intently, reaching out to rest your hand on his forearm. You let the anticipation s t r e t c h.

“You have got to tell me how to make these.”

The breath leaves him in a rush, a huff of relief and and laughter at your dramatics. He’s hyper-aware of your hand on his skin- the casual touch reverberates through him in a way he should probably be more concerned about. It’s the first time you’ve touched him for non-medical reasons, but it heals him all the same; he feels warm, something inside him yielding in your presence.

He clears his throat. “Like I said, I can’t bake for shit. But...I can ask the abuela.” His free hand rubs at his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. The movement draws your attention, and your gaze continues lower, to the two buttons he seems to perpetually leave undone. The smooth, flushed skin beneath. Was it warm in here?

You stand abruptly. “Is it warm in here? I’ll flip the fan on. You want to press play?” You throw him a quick smile as you cross the room to the wall switch. You flip off the overhead light while you’re there, leaving just the tall floor lamp casting a bright but cozy glow.

Javi obliges, the space dimming briefly as the opening sequence begins. You plop back down on the sofa, deliberately settling slightly closer to him- friends distance away. Handing him a wine glass, you raise yours expectantly. “¡Salud!” you beam.

Despite your cheer, you feel a trickle of nervous anticipation. What shape would your relationship take with only the two of you to guide it? You’d never been alone alone together for the express purpose of just hanging out.

Javier clinks his glass with yours. “Salud,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling upward slightly.

You order yourself to stop getting in your head. Humming around a mouthful of plum-purple wine, you set down the glass in favor of your plate, loading it with several more pastels. Blissful satisfaction fills you as a second bite confirms their perfection, and you lick sugar off your lips with a happy sigh. Beside you, Javi’s empty fingers twitch. He takes a large gulp of wine.

The movie rapidly proves to be of the same ‘quality’ as its parent. Just as quickly, you realize you didn’t need to worry about getting on with Javier. You end up having great fun at the film’s expense, frequently pausing it so Javi can explain in more detail why this or that would never happen in real life. It’s fascinating hearing him speak with such confidence, observing the minute ripples of his face as it contorts in thought. Despite his superior knowledge, he’s never condescending toward you, listening patiently to your questions and trying to answer in ways you can relate to. He sneers freely at the characters onscreen though, and you can completely picture him sitting at a one of those government conference tables, telling some poor bastard how bad his ideas are with his trademark dismissive, deadpan attitude.

There are other fascinating things about him, too. Like the way his short shirtsleeves to stretch over his arm muscles, subtle but visible, highlighted by the room’s long shadows. Like the tempting cords of his neck when he tips his head back to drink. Like more of his self-conscious glances, when he bites into a pastel and crumbs and sugar cling to his mustache. He hurriedly swipes his palm down the hairs, but you’ve caught him from the corner of your eye. You press your lips together to smother a giggle, but when he glides his tongue over his lip to catch any stray bits, your smile fades as your stomach swoops. You can sense him regarding you again as you fix your gaze on the tv. You wish you knew what was going on in his head.

Too soon the movie ends. The credits roll, but Javier shows no signs of leaving, leisurely taking out a pack of cigarettes and tapping it against his hand. “Do you mind?” he checks.

You wrinkle your nose but allow it. “As long as you do it at the window.” You stand, leaving Javi still seated, and spread your arms in a stretch, attempting to blink away some of the sleepy wine haze. “Be right back,” you tell him, taking the opportunity for a bathroom break.

After, however, before crossing the kitchen to rejoin him, you pause on the threshold of the hall. Your head tilts as you run your gaze over his unguarded stature. Javier leans against the window’s edge, his head and torso turned to exhale smoke out into the night. It doesn’t all escape immediately, gray twisting in the air around his profile, and you lose yourself in the brooding picture he paints. He believes he’s alone, but doesn’t look like he’s enjoying a peaceful smoke break- more like he’s weighed down by his thoughts, his eyes sweeping over the street without taking it in. Doesn’t he have anyone to share his burdens with?

You shuffle your feet loudly before you turn the corner, revealing your presence so he can react accordingly. As you approach, he stubs out his cigarette on the narrow sill and turns to face you, his shoulders relaxing.

“I thought of something else about that last scene,” he greets, and you’re happy to let him go on about the film, savoring the rich timbre of his voice. You talk for a little while longer, lounging by the window. He asks you more about yourself now, and you haltingly tell him about your background, how you came to arrive in Columbia. He drinks in every word, and you get the feeling he’s storing this all away, ready to reference later. As if he intends for there to be a later.

Finally it comes up. Your last interaction. “Look, I’m sorry about last time,” Javier begins. “When I, you know-” he nods jerkily in lieu of saying “tried to seduce you” out loud. “I, uh. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His gaze drops the same way it did when he was withholding how he got the cut on his leg.

You thought you had understood some of his thought process, but maybe there was more to it. “I think you do,” you disagree wryly. One shoulder lifts in a shrug. “But it’s okay, Javier. I just...didn’t want you to sleep with me just because you felt like you owed me.”

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze, yours ranging over his face and chest, searching for a reaction to what you’ve left unspoken. That you may well want him to sleep with you, but only because he actually wants to, wants you, specifically. Javier is smart, and clearly experienced with women- there’s no way he’ll miss the implication.

The longer you hold his gaze, the more clearly you see his thoughts churning, turning over everything that’s occurred between you and what it might mean, with all the analytical precision his career requires. That’s who you’ve been seeing, you realize, every time his provocative persona misses its mark with you- Agent Peña, the man who puts up a shield of derisive disdain so no one gets too close, so no one wants to. Until someone comes along who says fuck that, for whatever reasons of their own- like Steve, who demanded that Javi let him in as much as he could stand to because they’re partners, damn it, for better or for worse. Like Connie, who informed him that your well-being is important to my husband’s, so by god, you’re going to let me care about you. Like you- his neighbor and wallmate who, despite being faced with Agent Peña's rakish side, could see that there was more under the surface than just blood oozing from a knife wound.

As if realizing the window this moment is giving you, Javier shakes himself free of it, pushing off the wall. “Well, I won’t keep you up any longer,” he says gruffly. “Thanks for...this.” He gestures to the coffee table behind the couch you’re leaning on, the silent tv static jittering on the wine and pastries.

You stand too, unhurried. “Thank you, Javier. For the company, as well,” you say with sincerity.

He nods, seeming torn, perpetually caught in some internal struggle around you. Finally, he says a single word in farewell, his voice a low caress: “Vecinita.”

He starts for the door without waiting for a reply. Blinking in surprise, you spin in place. “Buenas noches, Javi,” you call, hoping your understanding reaches him.

You think it does, because he pauses for a second with his hand on the doorknob; before, with a last glance, exiting, leaving the hope kindling in your chest as the only proof it really happened.

Javier has a hard time focusing at work the next day. He and Steve have a lot of paperwork to get through, mostly material from their recent mission, but every time he shifts in his shitty desk chair he remembers how comfortable your couch was. How at ease you seemed sitting next to him on it. How badly he wanted to reach out to you, see if you felt as soft as you looked in that setting.

“Fuck,” he swears. The paper in his hand is the same one he’s been staring at for the past ten minutes.

Huffing, he shoves his work aside, snatches up his jacket, and heads home early. But his apartment offers even fewer distractions, so with a growl of frustration, he downs a whiskey and stalks back to the door.

Only to be stopped in his tracks by Connie, standing on his stoop with a coffee pot in hand. She looks startled by his sudden appearance, her fist still raised to knock.

“Hi, Javi. I heard you get back a little while ago, and I haven’t seen you since you and Steve returned. I thought we could catch up.” She speaks tentatively, clearly wary of his black scowl and riled energy.

“Did she send you?” he asks, eyes narrowing, jutting his chin to indicate your door.

Connie frowns in confusion. “No, I won’t be seeing her for a a day or three. She’s got an intensive-care patient at the hospital who needs around-the-clock attention.” Her own eyes narrow. “Should she have sent me? Did you do something?”

“No,” Javier retorts curtly. “Just- didn’t know if this was brought on by some of your gossip, is all.” Resigned to his interrogation, he steps back, opening the door for her.

Connie continues to glare suspiciously as she passes, but heads into his kitchen nonetheless, getting out sugar and mugs in a familiar ritual. She knew better than to bother checking the fridge for milk.

Once seated in the dining room, however, she doesn’t pry any further about you, or what he may have done, only continuing a previous line of conversation from their last chat. It helps, but as she gets caught up telling some work story, Javier’s attention drifts again.

He inhales from the cigarette between his fingers, remembering the taste of the one last night, filtering through the flavors of cherry-dark wine and sugar-encrusted pastry. He had tried to keep some figurative distance between the two of you, but you didn’t seem to want it, closing the gaps with questions, always looking so damn interested when the answers pertained to him or his life. Were you that fascinated by all your ‘friends’?

Javi doesn’t notice that Connie is scrutinizing him again, just like he hadn’t noticed that she’s been silent for the past minute.

“What’s she doing up there?” Connie asks loudly.

Javier chokes mid-drag, and a wicked smirk overtakes her face.

“What,” he croaks, trying desperately not to look guilty.

“Your neighbor,” Connie clarifies. “That’s what you’re thinking about, right?” She looks far too smug with herself.

“Hah,” Javier scoffs, trying to ignore the shivery goosebumps at someone calling you ‘his’. Buying time, he takes another long drag, letting it numb the sting from his cough.

Sometimes he wondered why he let himself get sucked into these coffee chats. They so rarely seemed to go well for him.

“Come on, Javier,” Connie coaxes. “I know there’s something between you two. Do you wanna talk about it?” A genuine offer, not just merciless teasing. She’s managed to wipe most of the mirth from her face, leaving a sympathetic expression behind.

He rubs his thumb along his mustache as he sighs a long stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what’s between us,” he finally says. “I’m not- I don’t do relationships.”

He isn’t sure he remembers how to. Nothing about his life here is suited to them- it’s intense, harsh, dangerous. Not to mention his network of CIs, who he pays for sex as well as information.

“Why not?” Connie asks simply.

A glance at her face tells Javier that it’s a serious question. He snorts. Lounging back in his chair, he raises a contemptuous eyebrow at her. “You can’t honestly tell me the DEA lifestyle is helping your marriage.”

Her face tightens, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he resolutely pushes it away- Connie knows who he is, she asked for this conversation- “My marriage isn’t up for discussion here,” she says evenly. “And besides, don’t you think that’s something for her to decide? She knows what you do, she sees you almost every day. She told me she was helping you with something- do you think she’d let herself get close to you if she was scared of your ‘lifestyle’?”

He doesn’t let it show how deeply her word affects him; but like ink dropping into water, he feels a ripple of shock. The change of color as his thoughts cloud, churn with sudden optimism. Because Connie was right, you had helped him- with a fucking secret stab wound, for christ’s sake. You’d already seen the blood and the secrets, understood that his life came with risks- and helped him without further explanation.

Javier brings the cigarette to his lips again without tasting it, unseeing gaze fixed ahead. Possible though it is that you’re not put off by the danger which hounds him, it still doesn’t mean you want to be more than friends. That was what you’d said, right? ‘Friends are a thing people have.’

But there was also what you hadn’t said last night. That- as long as it was for reasons other than feeling like he owed you- he was allowed to want to sleep with you.

Suddenly he slumps forward onto his elbows, sighing. The wrinkles on his forehead ache as he smooths his thumb over them. “I don’t know how close she wants to get,” Javi mumbles. He might be experienced at sex with women, but forming conections based on what was beneath the skin...well, not only was he rusty, but it required a frankly terrifying amount of vulnerability that he wasn’t sure he was up for.

Connie softens. “Listen, Javi, I saw the way she was looking at you during movie night. She’s interested in you, no matter how much you think she does or doesn’t know. Just- see what happens, or…ask her.” With her last words she shrugs matter-of-factly, content to drop the subject now that she’s delivered her thoughts.

His lips twist, the only begrudging acknowledgement he gives as he reflects on this. He picks up his mug and swirls the dregs of the coffee his friend had poured for him- black, like he usually takes it. He takes a sip.

For the first time, he thinks it could use a little sugar.

A/N: Get it, because he needs some of READER’S sugar AYOOOO...I’ll leave now lmao.

Spanish note for the less linguistically inclined: ‘Vecinita’ is the word ‘Vecina’ (Neighbor) plus the suffix ‘-ita’, which is attached to words as a way of describing them as ‘small’. So literally translated it says ‘little (feminine) neighbor’, but! This suffix is also used to say things in an affectionate way, so you could put it on the end of someone’s name (ie Pedrito <3), or on the end of another noun to indicate a nickname. (Disclaimer, I only speak Italian, but it has this same concept, so I think I did it right. Someone pls tell me if I did not). It’s used very casually, so it’s not really as deep as it sounded in Reader and Javi’s moment, but it was deep for Javi okay!!!

The dessert this chapter is named after translates to ‘Gloria pastries’, which according to Google, is a popular Columbian pastry. I have not actually ever encountered one of these personally, but I’ve had all the ingredients individually, so I cannot imagine them not being DELICIOUS all together. Here is a recipe I fully intend to try (it uses mozzarella cheese, but other sources say you can use any plain/white/farmer’s cheese). Guava paste is a really yummy, thick puree (think jam, but thick enough to stay in slab form at room temp) of guava fruit (obvs), which I’ve used in recipes before! I found it in a regular Weis market in central Pennsylvania lmao so I would guess it to be a thing you can find across the US. Arequipe is just another name for dulce de leche. I gotta get me and my sweet tooth to Columbia!!

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #shoutout to my boss for getting sick so I could have the last two days off to finish this #(he's fine tho it's not covid)

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notbecauseofvictories · 3 years

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oh I'm interested in the tag novel on how fan spaces becoming more meat spacey benefits the producers!! also happy Halloween! 🖤🧡🖤🧡

It’s not a particularly academic argument---I don’t have sources to back this up, I haven’t done research. I’m also wary of painting a picture of “fandom” as anything more than a lot of weasels in a trenchcoat, because that word means a lot of things to a lot of different people, some of whom hate each other. But as long as everybody understands that this is the ethnographical equivalent of drunkenly throwing darts at a copy of the AJS...sure.

[under a cut because it’s long and baseless, and also I had a lot of thoughts and feelings. Sorry.]

My basic premise is that fandom occupies “fanspace.” Fanspace is not solely online, since fanzines and conventions are fanspace too, but since the 90s it has become increasingly and primarily internet based. While some websites are designated fanspace (e.g., AO3, ff.net, stand-alone fansites) fanspace is not necessarily contiguous with a hosting site (e.g., there is fanspace on tumblr, but tumblr is not a fanspace). Fanspace is really just those urls, message boards, threads, blogs, accounts, etc. designated for fandom and/or where fannish activity takes place.

Its deeply-rooted internet presence has allowed fanspace and what I call “meatspace” to operate on different rules. Meatspace has always informed fan spaces, of course---disclaimers on fic to ward off accusations of copyright infringement, for example, or asking readers to attest that they’re over 13 before reading an R-rated fic. But traditionally, fandom has accepted as norm things that don’t apply to meatspace: fake names and anonymous posts, pictures of someone else’s characters, lengthy self-published stories featuring violence, explicit sex, sometimes even gay people. Fanspace is in many ways an artificial carve out from meatspace, where fewer of its rules apply; fanspace supplements these with its own norms.

The division between fanspace and meatspace is not and has never been a clear, settled line, however. Debates on how much meatspace should inform fan spaces have been raging for as long as I’ve been on the internet, and to be fair to meatspace, it has made good points. (I’m not sure if “don’t be racist,” counts as a meatspace rule given...racism, but fandom frequently reacts to it like a meatspace intrusion so I think it should count.)

However, what used to be intra-fandom conversations have become increasingly more public, for a few reasons:

Part of this is just the natural development of the internet---it’s not like fanspace was ever hidden, but there just weren’t as many people online, and stuff was harder to find in a pre-google, pre-algorithmic promotion world.

Part of it is the changing architecture of fanspace---websites shutting down, Strikethrough, and the tumblr porn ban have all, in their own ways, served to alter fanspace and move towards more and more public-facing sites.

But part of it---and this is the biggest factor, I think---is that over the last two decades, we’ve seen content-producers** increasingly willing to engage with fandom.

On its face, this sounds good! After all, fans like people who make things, people who make things want fans. What could possibly be wrong about both sides recognizing their mutualism?

I think this works when the most interaction you could expect with a creator was showing up a bookstore to ask Tamora Pierce a question, or writing fanmail to Paul Gross. But it falls apart when you consider just how public-facing fanspaces have become, and just how much interest content-producers have taken in cultivating the fannish audience. Content-producers engaging directly with fandom are a thumb on the scales of mutualism, and a heavy one. After all, one side of the relationship is a loosely collected anarchic cult, migrating along a series of websites they mostly don’t control, making do with nothing but ongoing wank and general obsessive tendencies.

The other side has D*sney, Harper Collins, and Comcast.

That thumb on the scale has paid off, more than I think even the content-producers could have anticipated. Fandom is good at loving what it loves and talking loudly about it, but capitalism is way better at doing what it does---turning everything into profit. So now people pay $100 a pop to go to Harry Potter World. Conventions are well-produced extensions of their parent companies, raking in money and providing a blitz of publicity---directly to the source most likely to take your messaging and amplify it. Make a superhero movie and the minute the trailer drops you conjure up thousands of online fans will be your de facto, unpaid publicists---generating interest via fan art, fic, and controversy with minimal corporate effort. Of course fic writers who have established online presence are the darlings of the publishing world---what publisher wouldn’t want a built-in hype machine for a new author?

And, just coincidentally, of course, fanspace and meatspace are drawn closer together, that line further blurred by this new and very, very interested third party.

I’m not saying this is some big conspiracy. No tv exec is out there rubbing their hands together and cackling evilly about how they’re going ruin fandom. But in exchange for meatspace validation and an endless stream of new content, I think fandom has ceded important ground. And I think it’s changing fanspaces, even now:

One of the founding rules of fanspace is that it does not generate money---you risk real copyright infringement that way. (This isn’t to say that money hasn’t been involved in a few massive fandom scandals, but it’s not typical.) Increasingly, however, the grumblings about getting paid for fan art and fic have gotten louder, probably due to meatspace’s general emphasis on the side-hustle, and seeing content-producers churn out more and more fan-like things for a profit.

(It seems unimaginable now, but once upon a time the HP Lexicon was an invaluable resource, a rare unicorn in a pre-wikipedia age. Now, D*sney wouldn’t even think of releasing a tentpole movie without a novelization, a picture dictionary, and a tie-in novel.)

Also, those calls for fan art that “might be featured” by a content-producer are (rightfully) scorned for asking for work pro bono. But the takeaway seems to be “we deserve to be paid for our fan art!” rather than “how dare the content-producer intrude on our fanspace and its activities!”

Fanspaces have never expected or required legal ID, permitting anonymous or pseudonymous activity in order to protect individual privacy. And while there’s still no expectation you link your legal ID with your online/fan ID, the norm has shifted---it’s no longer considered gauche to go by your legal ID, even necessary when turning mutuals and followers into an “audience.” We’re not anonymous fans, engaged in our mutual hobby anymore---some people are doing that, and others are potential content-creators.

I’d argue that even purity wank if an example of this new blurring, classic “don’t like don’t read” arguments taking on new life now that meatspace is so nearby---we wouldn’t want to offend the neighbors!

Even these things benefit the content-producers: the more fan-like stuff they churn out, the less fanspaces will create on their own; the more fanspaces that emphasize linking legal ID to online ID, the less people will be able to engage in fan activities privately; the more meatspace rules assert themselves on fanspaces, the less fanspace we’ll have.

Now, maybe this is just...evolution. As I said before, there is a porous and shifting border between fanspace and meatspace. I remember angry threads about whether m/m fics should be rated higher than a het equivalent; I remember the tagging debates, the incredible resistance to accurately describing what happens in your fic. Maybe in a few years, my longing to return to a more separate fanspace will seem equally as embarrassing, incorrect, and unnecessary.

But right now, it feels more like an erosion---one fandom is about as willing or able to resist as the tide.

** “Content maker” is a term that’s come to mean “anyone who makes something” which is sheer nonsense. There’s a difference between publishers/television producers/movie studios and someone recording a podcast in their bathroom. There’s even a difference between D*sney, a vast undead creative monopoly animated by copyright protections, and someone like James Patterson, who uses a stable of ghostwriters to churn out “his” works. We shouldn’t be scrutinizing all these things them the same way, it’s lazy, and intellectually dishonest.

#long post #long post for ts #........this is a whole honest to god essay what the hell #nonsense. malarky. ridiculousness and speculation.#guys I'm so sorry this is A Lot #(ps is it election terror driven towards sometime I can maybe describe without vomiting and panic attacks? I mean MAYBE)#either way here I am coming up with fun intricate theories as the world burns #transannecarson #celestial emporium of benevolent knowledge

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 3 years

Text

Witchcraft

Title: Witchcraft Summary: Sam & Dean found out you are a witch. You have to explain to them that you are not like the ones they hunt them Pairing: Winchester Brothers x Reader, Rowena, Castiel Prompt: Square Filled > MoodBoard Warnings: Witchcraft talking, negative and positive energies, Word Count: 1581 This was written for the Make Me Feel Bingo of @girl-next-door-writes A/N: All the pictures were found on Google, except the anti possession tattoo, that picture is mine. Also, this is my first moodboard ever, so if you have any tips, let me know!

You’ve been hanging around and living with the Winchester since Bobby died. They promised him to look after you, mostly because you were hunting with them, but you’d rather doing research. You always said that knowledge was the best weapon you could master. Of course, Dean said you were as nerd as Sam was, but you wouldn’t complain because it was true. The Men of Letters’ bunker was a temple for you, it was pure gold. You spent hours and hours reading the books, the files, the research, everything. It was your perfect paradise.

One night after a rough hunt, Dean ended up having a really strong headache and nothing seemed to be helping him. You wanted to help him but you didn’t know how. You’ve read most of the books that were there and you couldn’t remember anything that could help him. Well, actually, there was one thing, and you’d promised Bobby to use it only with people you really cared about, and Dean clearly was important for you.

When you went to bed that night, you prayed. Prayed for Dean, prayed for protection, and prayed to help him to get rid of that headache. They didn’t know, but as Bobby used to say, you were special. It was a secret you needed to keep from them because you were aware of the reaction. Sometime later, Dean showed up at the library feeling a lot much better, like if he had never been on a tough hunt. You were really happy because he was feeling better, but you couldn’t say the same thing for you. You felt sick, probably the headache you were feeling was a lot stronger than Dean was feeling, you felt quite bad for him for feeling like that. You left your room and went directly to the kitchen, you needed to drink cold water.

-Hey — Dean greeted you — are you alright? — he asked concerned -Yeah, I just need some cold water — you explained -Are you sure? -Yeah, don’t worry — you said entering the kitchen. There was Sam -Hi Sammy — you greeted him -Hi Y/N — Sam greeted — how… Are you feeling ok? -Yeah — you said filling a glass with the water — I just need this — you said gesturing the water glass -Are you sure? You look pale — Sam said concerned -Yeah, Sammy. Don’t worry, it’s just a headache — you explained -If you need anything, let me know — you just nodded and went back to your room

The following hunt, an exhausting werewolf pack that moved around a few states was killed, Sam ended up with a migraine. Again, you looked for any spell or medicinal herbs to help him, but nothing was a hundred percent safe, so you did as you promised and once you were back in the bunker, you prayed. You prayed for him, to help him feel better, to get rid of that migraine, to give him a peaceful rest without pain. And a few hours later, he was as good as new, with just a slight headache barely noticeable, but you, it was a whole another story. You were light-sensitive, your stomach was churning and the pain was crushing your skull.

The next hunt was three days later after the werewolf pack. The guys had asked you to join them but you preferred staying to do some research, but actually, you just wanted to lay down and rest and get rid of the remnants of Sam’s migraine. The demon they were hunting had told Dean that you were a witch and you were performing witchcraft on them. Of course, Dean didn’t believe it and killed the demon. He wasn’t sure about it, because he started to remember his brother’s and his headache and hoe quickly faded. It was suspicious, but he couldn’t believe it. Probably the demon was just playing with his mind.

When they arrived at the bunker, they found you fast asleep on the war table surrounded by books. Dean wanted to wait until you woke up to talk with you. Not long after they arrived you woke up. You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When you entered the kitchen, Dean was already there with the computer looking for another case.

-Y/N, can we talk? — he said and you knew. He found out. -I guess — you said hesitating -How are you feeling? Really -I’m fine De — you said -Y/N, you stayed back on a demon hunt, and you were locked in your room with the lights out for two days. What’s going on? — He asked worried — Talk to me -I have strong headaches. I’ve been reading a lot lately and I’m getting older. I won’t be able to see perfectly my whole life — you just lie -Y/N, I’m serious — he clenched his jaw -Not now, De. I’m tired and I want to go to bed — you said heading to the hallways -Answer me this, and I let you go — you looked at him — promise -Ok. What do you want to know? -Are you a witch? What? — you asked surprised -Seriously Dean? — Sam questioned entering the kitchen -Answer me -No, Dean. I’m not a witch. Why would you say that? -What’s going on with you?— Sam was pissed off -I’m sorry, I just needed to know -Why? — you asked curiously -It’s something the demon said. Forget about it. I’m sorry I asked. He probably was messing with my mind. I’m sorry. You can go to bed sweetheart — You didn’t say anything and left the kitchen

You felt bad for lying to them, but it was the best. Dean couldn’t find out, he would kill you. After that little discussion, you called Rowena for help. You weren’t feeling great. Rowena showed up, she helped you and stayed a little just in case you needed her again

-I wasn’t expecting you to upset her, dear— Rowena said -I didn’t mean it, but… -What if she is? Does it matter? I’m a witch and you haven’t killed me — Rowena mentioned -Yet — Dean said -What do you know Rowena? — Sam asked curious You were in the hallway listening, you needed to tell them the truth. -No, Dean. I’m not a witch, well, not like Rowena -What do you mean by saying not like her? — he was confused -She is considered a witch, but she is not like me. She does good things for people, she doesn’t do harm with what she does — Rowena explained -I’m not following — Sam said -Well, I do witchcraft for my own benefit. Y/N does it to help people, to help the people she cared about -Dean, you remember the headache you had a little while ago, and then vanished? I kind of cured it. And sam, the migraine you had the other day, I cured it too They were perplexed, they didn’t understand what you were talking about. They didn’t know what to believe anymore -Listen to her — Rowena begged -I prayed to the gods, the gods I praised, to help you, both of you to get rid of the headache, and I absorbed it -You absorbed it? -Dean asked -Yeah. Most of the headaches are caused by negative energies in your body. I’m very sensitive to them, so I can absorb them and help you to feel better — you explained — It’s difficult to understand, but I can show you some books where it’s explained -It’s not the same as I do. So when she feels bad, like today, she calls me for help, and I helped her to change those negative energies into positive energy and make her feel better -I work with energies, the phases of the moon. I promise you Dean, I would never use these gifts to do harm, ever -She is considered a witch by the bible because it says that is something given by the devil — Rowena explained -It’s true — Castiel appeared — She has asked me a few times for help. She only does good -I understand if you don’t believe me guys, but please, don’t kill me. I’ll go -Y/N, we would never kill you. You are everything to us, and we promised Bobby to keep you safe — Sam said -But that was before we knew this — Dean commented -Dude, come on — Sam scolded Dean -If it makes you feel better, Bobby knew and he made me promised to do only good to the people I care about. And that’s you guys. — you said and started to move to the hallway to go to your room to pack your stuff -Y/N — Dean called you — Do you promise me, that you would never ever for any reason use that to harm people? -I promise you, Dean, I would never use them to cause any type of harm to anyone — you said sincerely -I’m sorry I reacted that what— Dean said and hugged you — you know how much I hate witches

You laughed and hugged him back. You knew that you needed to do a lot of explaining to them, but it was only a matter of time until they truly believed you. But lucky for you, Cas and Rowena were there to help you.

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added)

#girl next door's make me feel bingo #make me feel bingo #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn x reader #spn fanfic #sam x dean x reader #dean x reader x sam #writing challenge

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