#all i wanted out of this season was an acknowledgement about those two and how they're dealing without their dad

[visionsofyouandme]

It's a Wonderful Life, Javier Peña!

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Javier does not indulge in the holidays, not caring for the lights, the cheer, and togetherness. But then you come along, and bring a little Christmas spirit in your wake.

𝚠/𝚌: 7.1k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: Javi POV. Afab!Reader. Fluff. Talks of Christmas. Banter. Javi trying to suppress feelings. Office romance. Swearing. Several Christmas movie references. Really, a lot of pining (my staple at this point?), fluff, and feels. Not really proofread (sorry not sorry!)

𝙰/𝙽: Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Here is a Xmas gift from me to you. Thank you for reading and joining me on this rather fresh and unorganized blog for my writings. Here's to a good, easy, and fun holiday for those who celebrate, and an easy transition into the New Year for us all ❤️

Read on AO3!

Javier Peña did not celebrate Christmas.

He had felt less and less “in the holiday spirit” over the years of adulthood. With his job and how stressful and time consuming it was all around the clock, it was hard to even think about it when that time of year came around. Sure, the office attempted to be festive with a sad excuse for a foot-tall, skinny Christmas tree with ornaments from the 60s. Maybe some garland around the doorways. But, that was if anyone remembered that year, or any year before or after.

And then, there came you.

You were hired on as a secretary, and when he met you, he knew you would just be another notch in his bedpost. And he tried to be as charming and suave as he did with every other woman who worked for the DEA and every woman after that, but it never seemed to work. You were polite, and annoyingly so, and turned him down every time with a smile that annoyed the hell out of him. 

He gave up after a month of trying, moving on to easier prey. And somehow, you still wanted to talk to him. Nothing serious, but asking how things were going, if he needed anything- he’d make a quip like “just you, cariño,” and give you his best smirk. You would only roll your eyes and if he didn’t annoy you entirely you would bring him coffee. Some days, it came with a biscuit.

He didn’t know what kept pulling him into your orbit, but it was around Christmas when he noticed. You put a little more effort into decorating- some lights on the windows, a new, two-foot tall plastic Christmas tree with updated ornaments. The garland was now wrapped in ribbon, and the place just felt… better.

But, Javier Peña did not ever indulge in the season.

He would spend late nights at the office the nearer to Christmas Day, leaving Steve to go home to his family and celebrate with them. It was about 4 days until Christmas, and around 7:30 at night when you approached him, looking like you were ready to leave.

“Agent Peña, you’ve been here since 6am. I think you need a break.” you said, tilting your head to the side. He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and leaned back, rubbing his face. He sighed,

“No rest for the wicked, as the saying goes.” he said with a frown. You shook your head, and gestured for him to follow.

“Put it to bed for the night, which I know you’re good at,” you said with a glint in your eyes that made him roll his eyes. “And come with me.” 

He cocked an eyebrow up at this, and sighed, knowing his eyes were about to fall out of his head from staring at words all day, his hand cramping from the pens and pencils he gripped. Besides, who was he to turn down going with you anywhere?

He followed you to a bodega a few blocks from the office, and he watched as you conversed easily with the shop owner as they prepared some food for you both behind the counter. Some kind of homemade special that Manuel had cooked up just for you before closing.

“You take good care of her now, amigo. She is a good one, si?” the shop owner said with a grin as he handed the bag to you. You rolled your eyes, but he could see the shy way you didn’t meet his eyes. But, he gave the man a nod of acknowledgement and an awkward smile. 

“Thank you, Manuel. Buenas Noches.” you said and Javier held the door open for you-

Since when the hell did he do that?

He followed you to your apartment, and he swallowed. Was this really what was going to happen tonight? You had turned him down night after night, and now you had lead him to your place with food? What was he doing? 

“Are you… um- are you sure, cariño?” he questioned, the uncertainty in his voice that made you turn your head as you fished out your keys. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and rolled your eyes,

“Unless you wanna eat on the street, come on.” you said, and wrestled the door open. He quickly moved up the steps and held the heavy door open, allowing you to step inside first. He followed you, glancing around as if searching for threats. None were there, of course, except a barking dog in the distance. Other than that, it was quiet. Peaceful.

Your apartment was small, but homey. This didn’t surprise him, as you seemed to leave comfort wherever you roamed. And, your apartment was also sparsely decorated for Christmas- lights hanging on doorways, another small tree (looking suspiciously like the only one-foot one from the office), and it smelled faintly of fresh balsam. Noting the blown out candle on your coffee table, he had deduced the source.

“You stole the tree from the agency?” He questioned with a smirk as he shed his jacket. You set down the food on the small, sad excuse for a kitchen table and looked back at him.

“I replaced it. Upgraded it, even. Thought it would be a fair trade.” you said with a smirk and began to dish out the food.

Javier was a bit surprised, to say the least. You invited him to sit, and you ate, talking over the food which was still hot and absolutely delicious. He scarfed it down, unaware of how hungry he was. 

“Jesus, Javier, don’t choke.” you laughed, and he wiped his mouth hastily,

“Sorry. Wait- did you just call me-?”

“We’re off the clock, figured it would be fine. Or do you get a kick out of being called “Agent Peña” all the time?” you said with a smirk. He shrugged,

“You can call me anything you’d like, cariño.” he chuckled, and you shook your head, still working on your food. The conversation was easy, comfortable, nice. He hadn’t sat down with anyone except some other fellow agents and Steve for meals, but never pleasantly like this. 

“What are your plans for Christmas Eve?” you questioned, and Javier snorted.

“I don’t do Christmas. Probably pulling an all-nighter at the office.” he said, and you actually frowned at this. He shifted uneasily in his seat, and shrugged it off.“It’s fine. I do it every year-”

“That’s kind of depressing.” you said, and he sighed. He knew it was, but he didn’t exactly have friends or a family to spend it with. 

“Well, what about you, Mrs. Claus?” he quipped, steering the conversation away. You shrugged, and picked at your food.

“I plan on getting home and watching some movies. Call some folks back in the states, wish them the best for the holidays.” you said, but he could sense the underlying sadness in your voice. It was his turn to frown. Him having no one to spend the holiday with was usual- but hearing you saying you didn’t have anyone? Now that was unacceptable.

“You don’t have friends?”

You laughed at that, and glanced up at him.

“I do, but they have families, other friends to spend it with. I don’t mind going solo.” you said, picking up your water and taking a sip. Javier shook his head, and sighed,

“Well, I’d like to at least share a drink with you. Maybe get rid of some of that loneliness for the both of us for a second, you know?” he said. He meant it casually, but he meant it real and truly. It would be nice to at least have a Christmas toast with someone for once. And if it meant bringing two lonely hearts together… why not?

A small smirk spread on your lips,

“I’ll bring the spiced eggnog, then.”

He made a face, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Eggnog and bourbon, then. They pair really well, believe it or not.” you said, and he shook his head.

“You won’t find eggnog here,” he said. He hadn’t had that in years, probably since before he left Texas to join the agency. Even then, he must have been a child when he last had it.

“I have my ways.” you said with a wink. He couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face, and he shook his head.

“You are funny, cariño.” he said, and you hid your smile in the rim of your water glass, but cocked an eyebrow.

“Javier Peña giving a compliment? Somebody put that on the record.” you laughed, and he shook his head, but a warmth spread in his chest. 

“Anything for you,” he said quietly, but you didn’t look up. Maybe you didn’t hear. 

But, he meant it.

“What’s with the face?” Steve questioned one afternoon at the office. 2 days until Christmas, and Javier was typing away furiously at his typewriter with a cigarette dangling from his lips. 

“What face?” He questioned without looking up. Steve cocked an eyebrow, leaning back.

“Your “something pissed you off” face. Or it could also be your “trying to hide something” face.” Steve said, and Javier picked the cigarette from between his lips and huffed out smoke.

“Just stressed.”

“You don’t get stressed. Well- you definitely don’t admit it.” Steve said, and Javier sat up from his hunched position. He put the cigarette between his lips momentarily and then exhaled. 

“It’s the holidays. Everyone’s gone, which means I have to pick up the slack.” He said. 

“Way to be in the Christmas spirit, Agent Peña.” Steve chuckled, and Javier heard an elated cry and turned in his chair to see you carrying a plate of something, handing them out to the staff as you passed down the rows. Javier sat up a bit, and quickly stubbed out his cigarette. When he turned to face Steve, he was looking at him with a shit eating grin.

“What? Free food’s free food.” Javier said, and you smiled as you rounded to Steve and Javier’s cluster of desks.

“Afternoon, boys. Interested in a holiday sweet treat?” 

“Oh, absolutely. Haven’t had sugar cookies in a minute.” Steve said, picking one up and Javoer gave you a nod of recognition as he picked his own.

“I was planning on making buñelos, but those were a spectacular fail. So, I went with something safe.” You laughed, and Javier found the cookie was sweet, almost sickeningly so. He looked at you and gave you a half smile and a nod, swallowing the piece dryly. 

“Homemade? That’s… good. Nice.” Javier said with a nod, and both you and Steve looked at Javier. You were the first to shrug it off,

“Well, I thought it would be a good Christmas present for everyone to enjoy.” You said with a shrug, glancing at Javier, but not for too long.

“You boys continue the good work. If there’s any left over, I’ll come to you first.” You said with a wink between the two, and walked on to the next set of desks. Steve was watching Javier like a hawk, who set the half-eaten cookie to the side.

“Too sweet for you?” Steve chuckled. Javier didn’t meet his eyes, and continued typing away.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Three days before Christmas, you continued to bring holiday cheer to the office. You had brought a radio in, and a handful of cassette tapes of Christmas music. Old stuff, easily accessible… Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Elvis Presley. You would play one all way way through and then let the usual local Colombian radio play for an hour. And at the turn of a new hour, you’d start another one. 

Javier should find it annoying. Anyone else, he would have said something. But, you just looked so damn happy humming and nodding to the music, that he just couldn’t bring himself to. 

He still avoided you outwardly, though. Cold, closed off. You didn’t seem to mind, and still gave him smiles and variations of “how are you today, Agent?” He felt like an ass, but he still felt the need to create distance, even despite your holiday plans. 

And that? That scared him. He had never had plans for the actual holiday- usually staying home or working a long night. If home, maybe invite a prostitute over to fill the void for an hour or two.

But to spend time with you? Someone who was quickly taking up space in his mind and thoughts? He wondered what caused your change of heart- was it the holiday and you didn’t want to be alone, either? Or was it… God forbid, was it something deeper?

He remembered all the times you had turned him down. Certainly that wouldn’t be the case, actually having liked him. No one liked Javier beyond a one-night stand. He had never convinced you to come home with him, much less have a drink with him. But, you had given in so easily this time around, that it left him puzzled.

His sleuthing skills were not serving him well, apparently.

“What should I play next? Bing Crosby or Dean Martin?” you questioned, and Javier looked up as you set more files on his desk. He rolled his eyes,

“If I have to hear “Let it Snow” one more time, I might throw that damn radio out the window,” he said, which was true. You only laughed, and it rang in the office like sleigh bells. He noticed you wore a Christmas tree broach, and at least complimented your restraint of personal Christmas accessories. 

“I’ll skip over that one for you, then. It does get a little old, doesn’t it?” you questioned, and Javier snorted. 

“You’re killing me slowly, cariño.” 

“Well, i’m trying to bring some Christmas cheer. Don’t turn into a Scrooge on me, okay? Or a George Bailey. I’d hate for a ghost of Christmas past to visit and foil our plans.” you said, and Javier’s eyes snapped back up to you, files forgotten.

“Oh,” he said, like he had just remembered. He leaned his elbow on the desk, “Right. Your place or mine?” he questioned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Agent, this is not a ploy to get you in my bed. I don’t have that kind of agenda. Figured we could share a drink here before heading home. I don’t care for the busy bars, it makes the loneliness feel even more pronounced.” you said, and Javier nodded, but it clicked in his head right then. Loneliness. The only reason why you wanted to bother him during this holiday- and it was no secret that Javier was alone on any and all holidays. He just didn’t think anyone noticed. But you,... You did.

He wished he could say he was grumpy, angry at the thought of someone taking advantage of him and trying to quell their own loneliness. But, that would make him a hypocrite. Sure, he was at work all the time, but it was mostly for the sake of the job. With you, he couldn’t- wouldn’t, you deserved better than that.

“Here?” he reiterated, and you nodded. 

“Right.” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He felt his chest deflate, but he nodded with a smile. “Still working on that eggnog, by the way.” you said, patting the files and began to walk away. He chuckled, shaking his head,

“I am expecting the best of the best. Do not disappoint me.” he said, and you threw him a look over your shoulder and winked. He shifted in his chair, pulling up closer to hide his growing hard-on. 

Fuck. This was bad.

“You got a date?” Steve questioned from behind Javier as he rounded to his desk. Javier opened one of the files you had set down on his desk, and shook his head.

“Nope. Just coworkers having a drink.”

“Right. I have never heard that one before,” Steve said sarcastically, knowing full well Javier would say that and have the stink eye from the woman he had bedded the night before. Steve wasn’t an idiot, and some girls made it obvious for their distaste for Javier in the workspace. All of them except you, it seemed. Javier’s one failed attempt at getting a female coworker to sleep with him.

Steve wondered if you had finally given in. Or if Javier was changing his tune in time for the holidays.

Either way, he couldn’t wait to see the results.

Two days before Christmas, it was quiet. You still played the music, but not as frequently. Probably to give the office a break from the same 10 songs sung by different artists. But, Javier was watching you smile, converse, and walk around the office. When you left for lunch, he found himself looking out the window in hopes of your return. 

He was in the breakroom, smoking a cigarette by the window and holding a new cup of coffee. He huffed, and looked down at the street below, suddenly leaning in close to the glass that his nose nearly touched it. 

You were walking up the street back to the building, with a man at your side. You were smiling, nodding, and laughing. That laugh where your face scrunched up and tilted your head back a bit, one he had never had the pleasure of inciting himself. 

And you were next to Miguel Garcia, from the internal operations department. He had never interacted with him, except maybe once or twice. He didn’t even work on the same floor as you and Javier. How did he manage to snag a conversation with you?

Unless…

His jaw ticked, and he rubbed it to ease the tension. When you disappeared back inside, he could see Miguel duck first and open the door for you. When you both walked inside, out of view, he took a very heavy drag of the cigarette. He set down his coffee mug and crossed his arms, the other hand still holding the cigarette to his lips. Feeling a tightness in his chest that was typically only reserved for stress on the job, he tried his best to smoke it off.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but he had stubbed out that cigarette and another, lighting up a third. He really shouldn’t care about this. It was none of his business, and you didn’t belong to him. But, to know you two had plans, and you walked up with someone else, made him feel��� some kind of way.

You didn’t belong to him, he reminded himself. And he doesn’t belong to you.

He wouldn’t realize it then, but later (much later) he would come to the fact that he finally understood what those poor women felt when he went from one to the other in the office. Karma kind of stings.

He heard footsteps and didn’t look up, but he heard your voice ring out in greeting. He looked back, and that tightness in his chest coiled up again.

“Cigarettes and coffee for lunch?” you questioned, and walked to the coffee maker. He shrugged,

“Hasn’t killed me yet.” 

You laughed, and shook your head, making a fresh pot of coffee, “Yeah. “Yet,” being the word.”

“How was lunch?” he said stiffly, unable to help himself. His eyes were trained on your back as you faced away from him to the coffee pot, but you didn’t flinch or tense up.

“It was good! Ran into Miguel from Ops, he was at the same diner as me. He’s a lot nicer than I expected- always thought he was so serious.” you said, and pressed the button, the coffee began to brew. “Kind of like you. Well- I still think you’re serious. But, you have your moments of… not-seriousness, I guess.”

You turned back to him, and he didn’t realize he was staring holes into your back until you looked at him pointedly.

“If you take a picture, Peña, it’ll last longer.” you laughed, and his eyes moved back to the window. He lowered the cigarette to his waist, his thumb ticking against it lightly.

“Everything alright?” you questioned, and if he wasn’t a seasoned agent, he would have flinched. The fact you noticed… that was dangerous, too. 

Too close. Too, too close.

“Yeah. Fine.” he said, and picked up his coffee mug, stamping out his cigarette. The leftover smoke that had accumulated in the room suddenly felt oppressive, and he needed an escape.

“We still on for tomorrow?” you questioned, your body turning as he began to stalk out.

“Maybe. Had something come up- i’ll let you know.” he said, trying his best not to look at you. Because if he did, he knew he would see a look on your face that would make him fold.

“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying and failing to hide your disappointment in your voice. “Yeah, just… let me know.”

Javier sat at his desk, and sighed, rubbing his eyes. 

Yeah.

Too close.

Christmas Eve. Javier was tired. He had stayed late the night before, drowning himself in work to combat the growing feeling of loneliness and melancholy over the holiday. He had tried to push you out of mind, and tried to decide how he was going to tell you he wouldn’t be available for that drink. 

You weren’t avoiding him that day, but you certainly didn’t go out of your way to talk to him. You wore some dangly, Christmas-themed earrings that made little tinkling noises when you moved your head. He was achingly aware of your every move, every word that was within earshot, and every smile that graced your face.

God. Focus, Peña. 

Steve wasn’t there that day, having taken off to spend time with Connie and his kid. Javier was fine with that, meant less snide comments that would be pointed his way. He kept his head down, and didn’t bother interacting with the few people who were there at the office.

Quickly enough, the sun had set and the workday was over, but Javier made no move to leave. Everyone had vacated by now, save for himself, the janitor, and you. He looked up when you approached his desk, and he could see something in your hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Try not to stay up all night,” you said and set a tall mason jar on his desk filled with something off-white. He frowned, and looked back at you, “Homemade eggnog.” You offered an explanation.

His heart dropped.

Fuuuuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Merry Christmas, Javier.” You said with a smile when he just sat there, staring like an idiot. You turned and walked to your desk, picking up your bag. You stole another look his way and nodded, and headed to the door. When it shut, his head swiveled to the jar on his desk.

He pondered for a second. Then another second. Then a minute.

God, he couldn’t be this much of an ass. Not on Christmas Eve, of all nights.

Javier quickly gathered everything up, shutting the lights off since the janitor had left minutes ago. Pulling on his jacket hastily, he grabbed the jar. As he hurried out the door, almost forgetting to lock it before turning back and fumbling with the keys. He pulled it once to make sure it was locked and then flew down the hallway.

He struggled to find a taxi, and took it to your place that he struggled to remember. It got him to the right neighborhood, and he found your building moments later. He jogged up the steps when he got inside and approached your door. He hesitated, and wondered if this was a good idea. He pushed the thought from mind and knocked hastily. He didn’t care what the outcome was, he had to say something. Whatever he was going to say, he didn’t know. Good thing he was quick on his feet-

Javier frowned, and looked down to see an elderly gentleman in a white shirt answer the door, looking tired and sleepy.

“Quién eres?” The man questioned, and Javier gulped. He quickly gave his apologies, and the man grunted and waved his hand, cursing under his breath about drunk men knocking on his door. Javier shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, and looked at the next door. He could have sworn it was this one, but he must have been mistaken. 

He walked to the next one, and knocked. He would have to knock on every door on the right hand side of the hallway if he had to-

You opened the door with a frown on your face, phone pressed to your cheek and dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt.

“H-hi.” He greeted, and cleared his throat. He said your name, and you cocked an eyebrow, obviously surprised.

“I just- I-“ Javier began, but you turned to the side,

“Mom, let me call you back. No, it’s- It’s carolers! How cool is that-? Yes, I know- Okay, love you, bye!” You said quickly and pressed the button hard to hang up. You looked at him, eyes narrowing.

“Did you come to give me back the eggnog?” You questioned, gesturing to the jar in his hand. He looked down at it, then back at you.

“Well, I- I was hoping we could-“

“Christ, Javier. Get in here, you’re gonna let all the cold air out.” You said, and gestured for him to come in hastily. He stepped inside and you closed the door, you both turned to face each other. You crossed your arms.

“Hoping we could- what? Just because I gave you that does not mean-“ 

“No! No… I just- I’m sorry. I feel bad.” 

“Javier Peña feels bad?” You scoffed, and shook your head, reaching for the doorknob. He stepped forward, hand outstretched,

“Yes, I do! I do. I… Wanted to say thanks...”

“For the eggnog.” You stated, finishing for him. He sighed, and knew this would be a shit show. He had to recover it somehow.

“Not just that. For offering to hang out, for bringing cookies… for making Christmas a little more… Like Christmas, I guess.” 

You stared at him. And then you laughed. It started out as a nervous, breathy laugh, and then you crescendoed into a cackle. You wiped your eyes, and shook your head,

“Peña, you are something else.” You said, and reached for the doorknob again. “Now, get ou-“

“At least have that drink with me first.” Javier said quickly, and you looked at him. You seemed to ponder it for a moment, and your eyebrows furrowed with frustration and he thought for sure that you would throw him out by his ear. But, your shoulders relaxed, and you shook your head.

“Fine. Not like I have anything else going on.” You said, resigned to it and locked the door, walking to the kitchen. He followed along quickly, and you reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon, looking half-drunk already. He wondered how much you indulged in it, and the thought made him smirk slightly.

“I’m just doing this to be nice,” you said pointedly when he set down the jar, and you found two mismatched glasses, dividing up the eggnog and alcohol ratio. “And to keep from being on the phone with my mother.”

Javier nodded, and hesitated to take off his jacket or make any other move to make himself comfortable. He stood there rather awkwardly before you gestured to the living room.

“Go ahead, sit. I’ll meet you there.” you said, and he nodded, feeling some kind of relief to do something other than stand there like an idiot. He walked to the living room and shed his jacket, draping it over the back corner of the couch and looked at the TV, which was playing some black and white movie, the accents dramatic and distinctively old-timey. He heard the name “George Bailey” cross the lips of one of the actresses, but still had no clue what you were watching. He sat on the edge of the couch, and looked up when you came in, carrying two glasses.

“It’s a Wonderful Life,” you said, and handed him the glass, which he took carefully. He looked at you with a cocked up eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes. “The movie, Javier.” you chided, and sat on the other side of the couch, a respectable distance.

He took a sip of the drink, and found it to be sweet, like the cookies. The bourbon gave it a bit of a stronger flavor, and he swallowed.

“It’s good,” he said, and he could see your unconvinced glare and he leaned back slightly, trying to recover some of his confidence. “I’m not lying. It’s good. Reminds me of back home.”

You seemed to relax at this, and nodded, satisfied. You shifted your eyes to the movie, and he could see the fondness in them as you watched the movie. 

 "What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down."

“He reminds me of you, you know.” you said quietly, and he kept his eyes trained on you as yours never left the screen.

“A little misguided, unaware of the bigger picture around you. Maybe a bit cynical, too wrapped up in work to remember the finer, more important things in life.” you said, and he chuckled.

“Yeah? That’s your assessment?” he said, and you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah. I’m just wondering what’s going to kick you in the ass to realize what you’ve been missing. I don’t think it’s going to be an angel, exactly, but… It is Christmas, after all.” you said with a shrug, and he glanced over your face. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips as they sipped the drink, the way your eyes sparkled in the TV’s light.

What was he doing? Sitting here, on Christmas Eve, drinking eggnog and watching a movie with a woman who had no intention of sleeping with him? Why was he allowing himself to be in a situation like this? Javier didn’t do… whatever this is. 

“Yeah, who knows what could happen.” he said into his glass, his eyes finally moving away from you to the screen. He inhaled gently, the smell of balsam and something distinctly you filled his senses. He had experienced it in passing, like when you walk past his desk or he visits you at your desk. Something just has him pulled towards you, and he has no idea why. It scares him, though.

The movie played on quietly between the two of you, and you had pulled your knees up to your chest at one point. The silence should have been weird, awkward. But, it wasn’t. Javier felt comfortable just sitting in your presence, a sense of calm coming over him. Without the stress of having to converse to fuck things up further, he allowed himself to sink back into the couch a bit. 

The movie wasn’t what he would exactly pick for casual viewing, but you seemed enamored with it. Every time he glanced at you, your eyes were glued to the screen. Soon, your respective glasses were empty and set on the coffee table.

“Hey, Javier?” you questioned after a silence settled in the movie, nearly startling him. He did his best to recover, and cleared his throat, making a hum of acknowledgement.

“If you could have anything for Christmas, what would it be?” you questioned, and he looked over at you to see your eyes were finally torn from the screen, and were on him. He thought for a moment, leaning his head back and slung an arm across the back of the couch, lips parted in thought.

“I guess… maybe a true day of rest. No stress. No paperwork. No having to deal with Steve, or anyone else at the office-” he said, almost on autopilot, but then wanted to kick himself. He fucked up- shit, shit, shit-

But, you laughed.

“I don’t blame you one bit. Place can be insufferable, sometimes. Especially coworkers.” you said, and he could sense the jab right back at him. He shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he tilted his head back straight to look at you.

“What about you? What’s on The Best Secretary Ever’s Christmas list?” he questioned, and you rolled your eyes, but smiled, looking down at your nails to busy yourself instead of looking at him.

“Ha, ha. Well… Maybe-” you said, but stopped quickly, and shook your head. “A car. So I can go anywhere I want… explore everywhere, and escape, and-”

“Now, why do I feel like you’re lying?” Javier questioned, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t have to use much sleuthing skills to figure that one out. You looked at him darkly, but then back to your nails.

“Fine, in the spirit of the holiday, I’ll be honest.” you said, and Javier shifted on the couch to angle his body towards yours a little more. 

“I just… want someone to- God, this is so stupid. I should not be saying this, especially not you-” you said, the regret already coming out in your voice. But, when you looked at Javier, there seemed to be something on his face that told you to go on. You seemed to relax a bit, and he wondered what exactly you saw on his face. He was just being patient, quiet, listening- something Javier Peña rarely did. 

“I want someone to buy groceries with. Get coffee with, even if it’s too hot outside. Someone to talk to on the phone or come home to after a long day.” you said, your voice getting more and more quiet, and your eyes shifted down to your nails again, and he noticed you were picking the cuticles slightly. Nervous habit, he noted. Why were you nervous?

“It’s dumb, I know. I wouldn’t want to sacrifice my independence, my work, or anything, just… Someone to share life with, I guess.” you said, and Javier felt his throat close up gently. When it was apparent you were done, he nodded slowly.

“I see.” he said, and he could see you visibly flinch.

“Like I said, dumb stuff. I guess the holiday puts me in a lonely, longing mood. 5th one in a row without someone.” you said, and Javier frowned at this. How was that possible, no one being worthy enough to spend time with you? He couldn’t understand it. You were smart, kind, incredibly and achingly good looking, and knew exactly what you wanted in life. Better than him in any and all aspects, really.

“It’s not dumb.” he said, and you raised your eyes to his, momentarily stopping your picking. You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and he shrugged.

“We’re human, right? We want connection like that. It’s in our nature.”

We, we, our. What was he doing? Roping himself into this whole thing?

“Right.” you said, and nodded, but that skeptical look was still in your eyes. But, you smiled small.

“Never thought Javier Peña would admit any of that.” you said, and he shrugged it off, his eyes moving back to the movie.

“I’m full of surprises.”

You updated him on the movie that you missed while you conversed, and as he watched, he could tell more and more this was a pretty depressing movie. This George guy was on the brink of losing everything, and if he didn’t straighten up, he would be sad, lonely, and probably better off dead.

Javier wanted to scoff. Were you trying to teach him a lesson or something?

He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for this George guy, though. And maybe that sympathy was extended to himself for a second.

As the movie went on, you stretched your legs out slightly, but not enough to touch Javier’s thigh, though it was dangerously close. If he wanted, he could move his hand from his lap and touch your ankle, your smooth and delicate skin. 

But no. Don’t push it. Not on Christmas Eve.

He heard you sniffling at the particularly sad part of the movie, and looked over at you to see you wipe your eyes hastily. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and shrugged.

“What? Old Hollywood makes me emotional, okay?” you laughed lightly, though he could understand where your emotions came from. He let you have this moment, though, and looked away. 

But, the movie had a hopeful turn. And a happy ending that only Hollywood could deliver.

“No man is a failure who has friends.”

Javier pursed his lips, and wanted to shake his head. Maybe he couldn’t relate, after all.

“We’re friends, right?” you questioned, and Javier swiveled his head to see you still wiping tears from your eyes, sniffing before you looked at him. His eyes moved over your face, and he nodded without much thought.

“Yeah. I think so.” he said. Whether it was for your benefit or his, he wasn’t sure. But, it felt right to say it. And your light smile you gave him knew it was the right thing to say. Probably the only right thing he had said all night.

You picked up the glasses as the movie ended, and rinsed them out in the kitchen. He stood up, stretching and followed you without much thought. He leaned against the doorway, watching you and then assessing the room, his eyes roaming. Looking above him, he saw a green and red plant and swallowed. He looked back at you just as you turned back to him, and walked towards him. When you stopped in front of him, and you opened your mouth to speak, he gulped.

“Merry Christmas, Javier.” you said with a smile, and he could feel the subtle shift to get him to leave. But, you were under mistletoe, and he couldn’t help himself.

He kissed your cheek gently, pulling away just as quickly and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, cariño.” he said quietly, and you frowned, then glanced up above the two of you and your cheeks reddened.

“Javier, that’s, uh- that’s just holly.” you said, and he froze. Oops.

“Oh, uh- I just-”

“Well, I give you a point for trying to keep the holiday spirit.” you laughed, and he relaxed a bit. He nodded, and gave you a smile as he moved back to collect his jacket. 

“You should take a break from the office tomorrow,” you said. He shrugged and pulled his jacket over his arms, then adjusting it on his shoulders.

“Why? May miss the chance to see you.” he said, and you rolled your eyes so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your head. But, a smile quickly followed it, and he smirked. 

“I’m taking the day off, like many others.” you said, and he began to back up to the front door as you rounded closer to him to usher him out. He bumped up against the door,

“Well, that’s a shame. I’ll miss my favorite secretary and her holiday cheer.” he said, and you stopped at a healthy distance. He could see you trying to suppress an amused expression, and grinned. “Come on, cariño, it’s true. You are my favorite. No one else would bring Christmas cookies to me unless they were trying to poison me.” 

“Who says I wasn’t trying to?” you teased with a smirk, and he shook his head,

“If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. Several times over.” You nodded, but shrugged slightly. 

“I guess you’re more tolerable than I thought.” 

Silence hung in the air as you two gazed at each other. He looked up for just a moment and spotted the clock hanging on the wall. Midnight had just passed, and when he looked back at you, you were stepping closer and closer to him. He looked down at you, having nowhere else to go with his back pressed against the door. You were so close now that he could feel your body heat hovering just above his chest. He inhaled, but as you reached down, the lock clicked to unlock.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, and the tension in his chest melted away almost instantaneously, and he nodded as you moved to open the door. He pushed off of it, and watched as you opened it, but a little slower than he would have thought.

“Merry Christmas.” he said with a smile, and you looked up at him with a nod. He stepped out, and jerked back when he felt you tug on his jacket before he could move away. He turned on his heel, thinking you wanted one more quip, but was shocked (to say the least) when you pulled him down by his collar to kiss him. He stiffened for just a blink but immediately resigned into it and kissed you back gently, eyes falling closed and his hand moving to your waist. When you pulled away he attempted to chase your lips, but his eyes opened for a moment to see you looking up at him. You searched his eyes, like you were trying to weigh the options presented before you. 

He felt that familiar tightness in his chest, and when your hands dropped from his jacket, his hand regretfully dropped from your waist.

“Merry Christmas, Javi,” you whispered, and smiled lightly. He smiled small, the proximity between you two still minimal. He wanted to pull you in, kiss your sweet lips again. 

But as you backed up into your apartment, his hand twitched at his side from the thought. But, your hand rested on the door, and as your eyes fell, you began to close it. He quickly pushed up a hand to stop the door, and said a bit breathlessly,

“New Year’s Eve. What are you- where will you be?” You looked up at him in surprise, blinked, and then responded,

“The office is having a party at the bar down the street. Figured I’d go, at least for a little…” you said, and he nodded, having forgotten all about it until this point. Now that he thought of it, he had heard Steve and some of the other agents talking about it. 

“Perfect.” he said, and nodded. You waited for a moment, and he could see the confused look in your eyes, but you gave him a light smile.

“‘Night, Javi.” you said, and he lowered his hand as the door shut quietly in his face. He stared at the dark wood before him, and gave himself a confident nod.

New Year’s Eve, he thought. Do not fuck this one up, Peña.

divider by @/saradika-graphics!

Comment, like, reblog, anything is appreciated! ❤️

[patheticrafeenjoyer]

genuinely one of the most life-ruining things i've seen today. what the fuck what the fuck what the fuyck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what t the fuck what in the fucking fucking fuck seriously what the fuck im about to start screaming what the fuck what the fuck dnt you know how abnormal i am about them what the motherfucking fuck aHELP ME

[starkwlkr]

she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

[itsclydebitches]

Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.

It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.

The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.

Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...

[groundzerosgirlfriend]

A/n: Just binge watched all three seasons of Dr. Stone and Senku and Tsukasa can do whatever they want to me! Bark Bakrk woof Awooga!

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That revived you in this new stone world with the 'miracle fluid' after gathering a strong enough army, to ensure your safety at all times.

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That barely wants his right-hand man Hyoga to be around you unless it's absolutely necessary going out of way to forage, fish, and hunt with you.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sits beside you for quality time as you sew and talk his ear off about everything that runs his mind and although he could spend his time elsewhere, where else would he want to be.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That is still as sweet as he was 3,700 years ago instead of carrying your books to school, he carries any prey you caught, any basket of mushrooms, and any firewood (He doesn't want his gorgeous girl working hard, what type of boyfriend would he be).

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That ignores all the other attractive women (much to the disappointment of Minami) in his empire throwing themselves at him much preferring to keep his sights set on you. His one and only.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart breaks as you finally see him firsthand destroy a statue of an older gentleman the crumbled rock around his feet and his gut twisting as your eyes prick the slightest tears.

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: Who doesn't follow after you when your quick leave his vicinity not wanting to pressure you into talking to him, knowing how empathetic you are about a lot of things (It's one of the things he loves about you, but right now it's biting him in the ass).

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart beats harder than it ever has when comparing it to any of his grueling wrestling matches after a week of silence on your end you sit next to him at the campfire site just leaning your head on his shoulder.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who's about to apologize for slaughtering those statues in front of you and explain his reasoning behind his uncouth action is surprised when you tell him 'You don't mind.'

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who stays quiet with ears open as you express that although you don't like what he's doing, you condone killing innocent people statues or not, but you won't question it or force him to stop knowing it has to be for good reason.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who places his huge hands-on top of yours just giving a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement and thankfulness, because in this moment no words need to be said as the fire crackles in front of you two.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who is now happier than he thinks he's ever been having both you and his newly revived sister free from her dreaded comatose (with the help of Senku) at his side.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who smiles the slightest bit and chuckles softly as he watches from the sidelines you entertain and play with his younger sister grateful that the two of you get along so well and even wondering if one day you would want a family with him. A blend of both of your genes.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sacrifices his life with a spear piercing through his lung at the river side when Hyoga attempts to attack you and Miria. The last thing he sees before he falls into the river is you and Senku reaching out for him in a desperate attempt to catch him.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: After his epic battle with Senku at his side he spends his last minutes alive breathing ragged and hoarse with you and the renowned scientist. His head in your lap and holding each other hands as he chuckles at Senku's attempt at small talk.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That whispers out a barely heard "I love you" but before you can even comprehend it and much less respond his eyes softly close, and his breathing comes to a permanent stop.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who unknowingly has you and his sister by his side the entire time he is in cold sleep. Barely leaving the makeshift refrigerator as you tell him stories and talk his ear off knowing that you won't get a response.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who when he's finally revived and healed from what were once permanent wounds hugs his teary-eyed little sister and looks around the cave space for you inconspicuously knowing you couldn't be far.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who finally spots you in the very back of the group your lip quivering as he cracks the softest of smiles and hold his arms open for you to rush into as you cry and snot all over his bare chest comforting you with the fact that he was alive and well now.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who even though was dead for months on end in that cold refrigerator somehow knew that you were by his side the entire time thanking you for never giving up on him.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who sits with you on the cave floor simply murmuring low sweet nothings in your ear as you cling onto him as if to make sure he's really alive and well, your head pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating once more.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who says "Let me say it properly this time, my dear. I love you."

Extra: Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who could most definitely manhandle you like a little ragdoll but refrains from it since you've never expressed interest in such rough treatment. But after he tosses you over his shoulder to carry you out the cave without asking in the heat of the moment and hears your delighted giggle, he'll be sure to bring that up with you.

[books-and-omens]

Rather a big thing, by the way, that many of us are probably re-evaluating right now is Crowley consistently not wanting to be called kind or nice. Especially not by Aziraphale.

In S1, that was what triggered the wall slam. ‘Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me’—but in S2 we see more about how strong Crowley’s feelings are on the topic.

In the Job minisode, Crowley vehemently insists that he is a demon. He is so angry at God. When Aziraphale tells him that he is certain Crowley does not want to destroy Job’s children, Crowley takes his glasses off to expose full-demon irises and looks Aziraphale in the eye as requested and says, “I want to”.

Aziraphale is heartbroken over that. His shoulders slump, he exhales shakily, his faith in Crowley has indeed cracked. Look at him:

And then, of course, he figures out the trick, and it turns out that he is exactly right about Crowley. “Well,” he says, and looks vindicated, triumphant, amused.

He was right. He knew Crowley would resist atrocity with everything he has. He knew Crowley would understand it’s an atrocity in a way Gabriel and Michael did not seem to (and neither did those two care). What Aziraphale sees is that, for all of Crowley’s demonic posturing, Crowley came through.

(He remembers the angel that Crowley used to be. So joyful. So happy. So unlike Gabriel and Michael, too: the angel Crowley would never have gone along with killing Job’s children.)

At the end of this minisode, Aziraphale is ready to go to Hell. He thinks he must: he lied, he thwarted the will of God. Crowley, of course, tells him that he is simply an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.

Aziraphale will process this in some way later, but… he won’t process it in the same way as Crowley. Aziraphale won’t reject the idea of Heavenly goodness—Heaven is supposed to be good, that’s the whole point—but he will take note of how, time and time again, Crowley exemplifies this idea when the actual Heavenly angels do not.

Across history, Aziraphale sees Crowley do things that are good. And then disclaim them, reject them, call them something else. A demon could get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, Crowley had warned him a long time ago.

Aziraphale will remember this.

Don’t say thank you, Crowley hisses in the Bastille. My lot do not send rude notes.

And the Victorian minisode?

Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions, Crowley tells Aziraphale vehemently after saving Elspeth from suicide. (In Christianity, certainly in the 19th century, suicide condemns a soul; one who died by suicide does not even get a Christian burial. So Crowley has actively diverted a soul from Hell by drinking the laudanum.)

And—look at how indulgently Aziraphale is looking at Crowley as Crowley insists he is not responsible for his actions.

Of course you aren’t, my dear, he seems to think. We both know you did it on purpose, to have a plausible excuse for Hell. But of course we both know that you are in fact responsible for your actions, and that, at great personal risk and cost, you have once again chosen to do good.

So by the end, from Aziraphale’s point of view, Crowley has a much better idea of Good than Heaven itself. And—oh joy!—in the finale, Metatron, the voice of God, finally acknowledges that fact and validates it. Your demon recognized me when nobody else did, Metatron essentially says.

(I just cannot with the ominous dramatic music that plays as Metatron leads Aziraphale out of the shop. Get the FUCK OUT David Arnold, this is so pointed and disturbing. In this season and in the last, the music is narration, it tells us so much without a single word.)

Anyway! Yes! In the finale, Aziraphale is being manipulated, and part of why it works is that he still does not understand Crowley’s motives in insisting he is not nice or good. He has been interpreting Crowley’s insistence solely as protective, which makes a lot of sense from what he has seen. A demon doing good deeds must hide to avoid punishment and pain. Crowley has hid for six thousand years, has gotten used to hiding. Sure, the last four years were different, but even in these years the danger hasn’t gone away, and six thousand years is a long time to set a pattern.

Aziraphale wants to see Crowley happy. He wants to see him—both of them—safe. And here, finally, is an official Metatron-offered way. Heaven is finally admitting and working on its mistakes. Surely Crowley will forgive them? Surely Crowley and Aziraphale can make Heaven better, together? Make into what it should be? (And they would be safe, they would be safe, they would be safe.)

They still haven’t talked. Aziraphale still does not understand Crowley’s choices. In the past, it might have been too dangerous for Aziraphale to know exactly why Crowley Fell, while for Crowley, it might have been too vulnerable a thing to discuss. So they haven’t talked, and Aziraphale does not know the exact questions Crowley had asked, does not know the exact reasons. He assumes.

And his assumptions, oh so well-meant, are going to be catastrophic.

[forestleavescat]

Moominvalley: Or Not at All

A long post about Moominvalley through the different seasons. Planning, potential, promises, and outcomes.

This won’t go super far into detail about season 4 but it will talk about a certain outcome as well as handling of characters and relationships. If you don’t want any spoilers or info on the fourth season steer clear

(I’m not the best with titles)

I watched season 4 of moominvalley last night and I was pretty dang disappointed in how certain things were handled. Don’t get me wrong. There was some nice stuff. But it still felt like it was largely missing what made me love the show so much from the start. As well as things I had been looking forward to from the books. Above all else, I feel like their handling of the fandom’s favorite pairing was bad. I can’t even begin to put into words how upset I am since gutsy and by extension moominvalley felt like a company that wouldn’t do this. I want to put my thoughts on paper so to speak. 

It’s insanely disappointing to know that this company has been queerbaiting since day one. This show is a huge comfort to me and it was nice to watch since it helped me feel more at ease with my own sexuality. But now that feeling has been largely reversed because I know that those moments were manufactured to sell the show only for them to drop them by the end. So let’s look at things

Queer coding has existed for a long time. It’s helped creators give hints and nods to a character’s identity or hints of a relationship when times and places don’t exactly allow for it. There are many stories that have queer coding and give this beautiful subtext that those in the community can enjoy. Even though it would remain ambiguous whether a character was gay or two men or women were dating, the coding allowed it to be suggested even when it wasn’t allowed given the time period. 

Queerbaiting is almost the opposite of this. Queerbaiting comes about more from existing in a time or place where it is accepted but instead of giving genuine representation, a person uses the desire to see that representation to sell a product. Moments between characters that are clearly more than friendship only to disappear - often replaced by a hetero pairing. (Tbf the character who was implied to have feelings for someone of the same gender would still be bi or pan but it stings when the idea of something between two people of the same gender was suggested but removed) Queerbaiting has been an extremely frustrating thing to experience in fandom spaces. Series like voltron, sherlock, supernatural, etc. You get invested in these characters. There’s a possibility and every moment that suggests it could be more gets you hooked. Similar to how miraculous viewers became invested in the romance that’s hinted since day one. If you put the time and effort into using that for a story and draw people in with it only to take it away it’s bordering false advertising. It sucks because you spent time caring about it and waiting to see how it would play out. 

I mean just look at this. The moominvalley team did this deliberately. I mean, they included that one scene in the teaser which made it seem like more snufmin. It felt like a taste of what the season would offer but in reality it was one of few crumbs. And I mean crumbs. Because compared to the other seasons there was hardly anything. Their moments didn’t have this underlying feeling that they usually did. Every other season felt like it had underlying feelings to be explored. But here it became hollow. And snufkin took a backseat to a lot of the action this season

 But they definitely knew that the fans were interested in this pairing. It’d be tough to get into the moomins without knowing about this part of the story and community. And they acknowledged this idea of moomin and snufkin multiple times in interviews and qnas. 

And voice actors aren’t the ones who decide but there were more than just vas discussing this.

This series started off with their relationship. Episode one ended with the first mention of snufkin who’d be returning to the valley in the very next episode. That entire second episode gave a clear look into how their relationship would develop throughout the series. Moomin waiting for snufkin longingly while snufkin took his time until showing up felt right all while missing moomintroll. This episode has a sort of sense that there could be something more to them. Especially seeing as moomin is more focused on snufkin than snorkmaiden, his love interest. The following episode gives us this:

And while moomin wants the dragon to be his loyal pet, we know that “And just promise me this, that you'll give me all your kisses Every winter, every summer, every fall”

is referring to somebody other than that. This leaned much heavier into the potential for something beyond friendship between them.

There are the usual moments that could go either way, with focus between them and close contact.

This is more similar to other adaptations where they have a clear, close relationship. But in most of those you could come to love the pairing but you generally know they won’t do something unambiguous. Just the occasional scene that could be read as potentially romantic.

Moominvalley doesn’t strictly stick to this though. It feels similar to the original works where there is something ambiguously there. Then it further implies that there will be something important between them storywise. You get Tooticky saying that there are other lost souls waiting to be heard before the camera cuts to Snufkin leaving the valley alone.

And this didn’t really get fulfilled in any real way. Yet it implies that the future of the series will go in a direction where moomin is the one to help snufkin in some way. That part isn’t even romantic, but it goes to show that they stopped focusing on this important connection between them.

Their relationship in season 2 continues very beautifully. Moomin immediately wants to go make sure snufkin is okay when the volcano’s gonna erupt. There’s an entire conversation that highlights their difference of perspective with loving vs possessing in regards to the ruby and the hobgoblin. Something that is linked to their relationship and things they need to figure out. Then when they have to leave the valley, moomin wonders if he’ll ever see snufkin again. On top of that, he and snorkmaiden have their break up.

Which I want to talk about their relationship a bit. A majority of the episodes that feature them as leads do it with a wedge between them. Their relationships is honestly not great going both ways. They clash and are generally unhappy. And usually moomin has to apologize for something that doesn’t exactly feel is entirely on him. Little My I get. I mean he didn’t think the note would get to mymble but this was still a genuine mess up on his part. But he ended up on a rock in the middle of the sea over the ghost episode. And snorkmaiden spends much of their time making a home together getting angry because he misses his family and hasn’t come to terms with saying goodbye to them. There are times they’re together where he’s selfish and she’s just angry at him. They don’t feel like a happy couple to cheer for. Back in 90s moomins I actually did like them. They were cute. I was a bit divided between that and snufmin because there were these moments that really did count for a lot and had such a wholesome feeling. But moominvalley honestly made me cheer for a break up. Meanwhile, he and snufkin have this relationship that they’re navigating in moominvalley. They don’t argue much even when they have different perspectives. Moomin admires snufkin and in some ways tries to emulate him. But all while still being his own moomin and figuring himself out.

The two are still given parallels in little moments such as zooming in when they take each other’s hands.

So back to season 2 and how it handled snufmin. When moomin leaves the valley we see snufkin dealing with that absence for a change. He begins to understand how moomin feels when he’s gone. While he’s at the moomin house he seems pretty in his element for the most part. He seems happy to play along and give toffle an idea of what the moomin family was like. But in that there are scenes where he’s looking for a note. We see bits of how much he misses moomin and wants to know where his friend has gone and when he’ll be back. This is the beginning of a shift in their relationship. Because snufkin gets to feel what moomin feels like. And when he hears that the moomins are coming his face lights up the way moomintroll’s would.

They’re often portrayed in a way that shows that they’re the most important person to the other. There’s this sort of soft undertone that seems to suggest feelings. And all while their relationships grows and changes and they become all the better for it.

Also there’s this

Season 3!

Season 3 felt like there was a change in direction. I feel at this point that there was deliberate queerbaiting but I also know that there was a shift somewhere around season 3. We got the music cut. The voice actor for moomin changed. There were some adjustments with the writing team. But they still deliberately put in scenes with this duo. And with romantic framing. I could be convinced that season 1 and 2 were made with the idea of them as endgame in some capacity. That the queerbaiting wasn’t from day 1 and that it began here. There were really great moments with them. But it feels like they shoehorn snorkmaiden in as a romantic interest again. A lot of episodes with her here don’t exactly make it explicit but there are some that nail it in. They reunite and it almost feels like they’re back together again without a full conversation. Especially with the final episode. I feel like the narrative would’ve been richer if they hadn’t done that considering the way they’ve been building snufmin up.

But I’ll focus on moomin and snufkin for now. When snufkin sees moomin again moomin goes for the greeting he’s been used to but snufkin gives him a hug. That description alone won’t do it justice though. The music rises as it zooms in on their eyes as they make their way to each other. When snufkin hugs moomin you can see the joy from both of them. It shows how their greetings and by extension their relationship has evolved over the seasons.

And then it cuts to snorkmaiden.

This becomes a notable pattern in season 3. It’ll give a really meaningful scene that pushes snufkin and moomin in a more romantic light only to undercut it by reminding you that snorkmaiden is here. It’s at this point where it feels like they know a ton of fans are here for snufmin. They include the pairing. But they also seem to be reminding us that snorkmaiden is here to stay and in a more romantic way. But there’s still this hope, especially if you recall everything from seasons 1 and 2 and the way that they felt. Especially if you rewatch them right before watching season 3. And the show very clearly uses that and makes it feel like there’s a chance. Makes the viewers hope and stick around to find out.

So let’s go through season 2. Moomin and snufkin make some progress on their relationship. They’ve switched positions now and have more of an idea of how the other feels when one of them leaves. And from there they communicate that. Especially moomin. This is shown to a degree in the episode with the fairgrounds. Again in lonely mountain. There are also little nods here and there about their relationship. But again. Lonely mountain is the big one. It starts with little my getting on moomin’s case for worrying over his ‘precious snufkin’

As usual moominmama also seems to act like she knows there’s something more to his relationship with snufkin. Papa remains oblivious though. There’s a parallel between the parents and snufmin too. But the most well known part is this

look. there’s nothing remotely platonic about this. This is one of those things that someone straight and homophobic could detect. The point where they’d stop arguing ‘they’re just friends’ because there’s no way that’s all. I mean just listen to moomin’s “yes” when snufkin goes to add something. There’s so much hope and feeling in that word that I would love to get my hands on the script to find the voice direction for that. I mean come on

And better yet it ends with an interruption so we know they’ll have a whole heart to heart later. A conversation where they lay out their feelings. The feelings that were clearly present here.

Except they don’t

Anyway the season goes on. Moomin, snufkin, and obligatory third wheel sniff go on a journey to take the sun back after it was stolen. They get it back and the season ends with a beautifully queer scene that promises more to come from these two.

Except that a few minutes prior snorkmaiden calls moomin her soulmate and they have their usual thing. And even after snorkmyden really did get some good content this season.

Look, I know that snorkmyden was probably not on their minds throughout production. There’s a difference between the way they handle snufmin and the way they handle snorkmyden. Both duos get great development in their relationships but while there are a ton of cute moments between snorkmaiden and little my, it never feels like there’s a focus on making that endgame. It feels more like snufmin did in some of the other adaptations - something with cute moments and a genuine bond that could be seen as romantic but it’s highly unlikely it won’t be. I want to say this since this series didn’t feel that way for snufmin. It felt like the first chance of it working out fully. I put a lot of scenes in here showing it but the first two season really show it in a way clips and gifs can’t. There’s just so much there and it’s beautiful and sweet. It feels hopeful for them.

Until season 4. Season 4 feels like the team shrugged off all of it. They step even further away. It’s like season 3 but without any of the scenes between them. Suddenly, you’re looking at scenes between them where they talk and have physical contact but the deeper feelings are completely gone. It’s like the anime. Where you can smile about it and think ‘aw them’ but you know it won’t happen. They heavily lean to snorkmaiden and moomin instead. This is the final season. They know people will watch to see if moomin and snufkin go anywhere romantically. And even if people don’t finish it, they’ve got people paying for memberships just to see if it happens. So it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t happen. Because they’ve secured the views and the money.

I do want to say that when I refer to it as becoming canon I don’t know if they’d call each other boyfriends or even kiss. But I would expect them to acknowledge it as there being something more. Like the series ending with them having a discussion about how much they mean to each other. Something that shows they’ll go into the future and continue to get close. Physical closeness like a hug or one putting his hand on the others or even just leaning against each other. Whatever it would be I’d expect more than this. Because they very clearly built these two to be inseparable in that one required the other to undergo their full arc. The show starts with a promise that their relationship will be close to the story. But then season 4 hardly shows snufkin at all

This is what queerbaiting is. And I never expected it to happen with this series. Not after the team talked about it with care. It’s such a gut punch after waiting for five years to see how it’d turn out. I don’t know if they always intended it to be a way to bring in customers. Maybe it was initially going to work out but they changed it between season 2 and 3. I don’t know. But this. This really is queerbaiting. We live in a time where gay relationships are more accepted. They show up in the media more. We’re finally at a time where this relationship could be made more explicit instead of having this ambiguously romantic subtext. And if someone made a new adaptation of moomins and didn’t do that, that would be perfectly and completely fair and okay. If they didn’t consistently imply that there could and even would be something more. But here they used a very old and well loved pairing to gather fans and make money only to never have it come to fruition. Season 4 of moominvalley felt like companies on july 1st. I literally can’t think of a better comparison for how it feels. The first video starts with the quote “The Spring Tune is where we say that this series is going to be different. That you’re going to have to wait and give it time and just be patient. And wait for the story to unfold.”

And so many people did. But then it turned out like this. And I don’t know if that was always the intention. Because it feels like that interview was suggesting that it would go in that direction. But heck. The whole series up until season 3 felt like it would go in that direction. And then it didn’t.

Gay representation is something that has a huge positive impact on the lgbtq community. Even more so on the world overall since it allows people to see these relationships and shows that it’s okay for people to be gay. And it would be even nicer for a series that started off with that subtext got the full representation now that we’re in more accepting times. And it felt like it would be even more meaningful with recent treatment of gay stories.

Our flag means death was cancelled, shadow and bone, the owl house had its final season drastically shortened, good omens is only getting a single episode for their finale

Many are just getting dropped and in a time where this community needs them more than ever. These are shows that make people feel seen. Shows that bring a feeling of joy and comfort and acceptance. And it’s even worse to see that there’s still queerbaiting now. This could’ve had such a beautiful ending and likely would’ve been loved for many years to come if they committed to what they’d built up all this time. How could someone take a series created by a woman who not only added subtext in her original stories but was bi, and use it to build up a romantic story just to bring in money and then toss all that development away. I don’t know what else to say other than this is queerbaiting. And the gay community deserves better. I really did believe that moominvalley would do better by us.

[alastorsbookie10228]

Hello! :D Heard you were wanting some Alastor stuff. How about something fluffy with Alastor and fem reader. Him nuzzling her nose and cheeks, chuckling at her giggles he is bringing out of her. Something simple and sweet.

OMG OMG OMG STOP THIS IS SO CUTE AAAGHHHHH

ok lemme write it now 🤭

Stop, that tickles!

Alastor x fem! reader

soooo reader is southern....like South Georgia southern. simply because I say so, but enjoy it nonetheless.

sorry it's a little short. I couldn't think of anything else...☹️

It was that time. The time Alastor hated the most.

Rut season.

But now he had you, his sweet, Southern darling. The girl that spoiled him rotten with all of her home cooked meals. He was hardly even able to make his famous jambalaya because you scolded him for doing something you were supposed to do. Not that you minded preparing his meals and doing his laundry, of course. In fact, you nearly begged him to let you do those things for him.

But now that he's in a rut, his entire character is thrown off. He refuses to let you wear clothes that aren't his or that weren't made by his tailor, and even then he's doubtful. He'd feed you the hearts and eyes of the foolish sinners who dared look at his most prized possession. And he really didn't like you being away from him.

So that's why you are where you are now. In you and Alastor's shared bed, him marking you by rubbing his face on you, leaving his scent. Frequently, his nose would poke and prod at that one spot in your neck that made you giggle and try to shimmy away from him.

"Alastor, that tickles! quit it!" you squeal through giggles, trying to push his face away. All he does is hum in acknowledgment and continue his acts, much to your displeasure. You try to slide away, but he grabs your waist and tugs you back easily.

After what felt like hours, but was only 30 minutes, he lets up and pulls his face away. He looks down at you with eyes that are droopy with exhaustion and full of love. He smiles softly as you two just look at each other.

You smile back and lean over to press a kiss on his cheek.

"Boy, I done told ya to quit all that. I should be mad at you right now, but you're just too cute to get mad at. Cute as a button, ain't ya?" you say to him, moving your hand to sweep his bangs out of his face.

All he does is hum and lean closer to you and press a kiss onto your forehead.

"I love you, my doe." he says, now resting his head on top of yours.

"I love you too, Al." you say, hugging his waist and curling into him.

[icyg4l]

PAC: How to Enhance Your Beauty!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So let’s figure out how you can see yourself as even more beautiful, lovely <333. Hello, beautiful people! From today’s topic, I want to have more of a lighthearted PAC Reading. I’m taking a break from the more plutonic-like topics. In honor of Libra season, I will be focusing on Venusian-esque topics such as relationships and you guessed it, beauty! If you love this reading and are interested in booking with me, please don’t be afraid to read my guidelines and book a reading with me! So without further ado, please choose the photo that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-3)

Pile One: While pulling for this pile, I heard "take a chance." I also heard the restaurant, Benihana. Some of you may work here or frequent this restaurant. One way that you can enhance your beauty is by taking risks in your appearance. Think more edgy. Think Rihanna circa 2009 or Xtina. Cut your hair into a pixie cut or wear darker makeup (as in black lipstick/heavy eyeliner/etc). There is an emphasis on acknowledging your ancestral roots as well. If you are of Asian descent, you are being encouraged to wear traditional prints more often. If you are Black, then you are encouraged to wear more gold jewelry, specifically rings and necklaces. If you have been meaning to try out the gothic aesthetic, you should do so! It would be fitting for you. Lastly, this is very specific, but if you have a twin, you should take their advice on what to do with your style. They have a very specific vision for how you should dress and it would fit you really well.

Cards Used: 9 of Cups, Death, King of Discs, 2 of Cups, The Lovers, Prince of Swords.

extras: larry june. recently gone through a breakup. waiting to exhale (1995). nowhere (1997). lucki. in the booth. father. painted nails. fresh kicks. shanghai by nicki minaj. funeral reception. 'jesus wept'.

Pile Two: Babyyy, you need to embrace being single. There is nothing wrong with being available to the world. Think of the world as your oyster. Once you adopt this mindset, you will feel more alive. For those of you in a relationship, you need to spend more time with your lover, but you also need to do your own thing. Maintain a balance of knowing when to be alone and knowing when to be by yourself. If you are not in a relationship, you need to put more effort into self-care. Buy yourself flowers. Splurge on that gift for yourself. If you've been wanting purchase something expensive like a guitar, then do so. There is nothing like learning a new skill that will help you in the nearest future. This is very specific but you need to be around people that make you feel grounded/humble. If you have a younger sister/cousin that's a bit snarky, learn from them the importance of prioritizing yourself. Surround yourself with gardens, flowers and nature in general. Learn how to romanticize the simple things. It's all about your perception. You are beautiful already, but you just need to believe it.

Cards Used: Ace of Discs, The Star, The Lovers, Ace of Cups, 9 of Discs.

extras: feeling stagnancy. +3 in uno deck. 45. percocet and stripper joint. "MEEP!" photo-op. reaping the rewards. showing signs.

Pile Three: It's so interesting that I channeled a Cardi B song for you. If you've been paying attention to what's going on with her, you know that she's in the process of going through a nasty divorce. However, she looks much happier without Offset. Pile Three, you need to get rid of any Offsets in your life. Anyone that makes you feel like less of a human being or lowly esteemed is not someone that should be in your circle. This could be a lover, a friend, a sneaky link, etc. It does not matter! Another thing that you should do is upgrade your wardrobe. If you have been looking into purchasing a Coach bag or a Prada bag, then do it! You need no one to assist you with that. You are not anyone's doormat and you do not need a crutch from anyone, unless you ask for it. Don't let anyone feel like you are forever indebted to them. You should increase your water intake, and if possible, you should go to the beach. Reunite with your friends so that you can catch them up on this chapter in your life. Building yourself back up again is a community effort. It cannot be done by one's self. Lastly, book a trip to an island-like place. Once you visit, the water will restore you of your natural beauty. Speaking of natural beauty, you look even better without makeup, baby! Slap on some blush, mascara and lip gloss if you really want to apply some makeup. Keep it au naturale.

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, 6 of Swords, 9 of Discs, Ace of Cups, The Moon, 2 of Wands.

extras: changing clothes. dishes in the sink. "it smells rank". beauty mark on eye. deadpan. pull through. god's strongest soldier. chiseled face structure.

[beauspot]

Good Omens Is a Big Deal

With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.

To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.

It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.

And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.

I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:

1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.

2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”

3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.

Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.

They love each other and it’s not platonic.

To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.

That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.

[deconstructthesoup]

Thinking about how if Jenny did come to London with the others, and if Monty does manage to turn back into a human and ends up joining the agency... there's seven members of the agency. Which means that there's one that matches up with each member of the Endless.

Edwin---well, that one's obvious, isn't it? He's come face to face with Despair, walked in her domain, stared her in the eyes as she quietly declared that they were friends now. He is, at his core, deeply and profoundly sad, and there's no denying that. Until Edwin allows himself to be happy, Despair will always have her hooks in his heart, and even when he's free of them, she will always linger in the faintest parts of his ghostly aura, will always be there whenever he travels through a mirror.

Charles... oh, Charles. We all know which of the Endless he would be the most affected by, don't we? He claims that he can't say he's in love with Edwin back, but the minute those words left his mouth, Desire was up there in their domain, cackling at how fucking idiotic this boy is. If we get a season 2, we will absolutely see them taunting Charles, purring into his ear that they know how much he's been ignoring his own desires and wouldn't it be nice to just acknowledge it, darling? Edwin was able to tell you, why can't you just say it back?

Crystal already feels as if she's losing her mind half the time, and doubly so now that she's fully warring with two very separate sides of herself. Would it really be a stretch for her to try to help a lonely-looking girl with wild red hair one night, only to touch her and immediately get pulled into a world that is a riot of color and confusion and things that don't and shouldn't exist? Delirium would probably be kind to her---her default state tends to be kind, even if not everyone sees it that way---but I doubt Crystal would have a good time there, even as Delirium compliments her on her name and proudly proclaims that she's a shiny rock and a pretty building and a football team and a flying machine all in one.

Niko's lost somewhere right now, and we all know she has a long journey home. I don't think it would be unlikely for her journey to eventually lead her to a palace with a roof made of stars, or a library full of every book that has ever been written---and every book that never has. And Dream might see this girl who doesn't belong in his world, but who can't take his sister's hand, and show her the way back to her friends. After all, she's lost so much and is still full of so much hope, and how could Dream not admire someone like that?

Monty... well, he spends all his time looking up at the stars, and not just because they sparkle and shine and all of his crow instincts say that they're treasures meant to be plucked from the sky. He wants to know the future, his future, to find out whether or not he can be something other than just a witch's pet. And maybe, some of his wanderings will one day lead him into a labyrinth, and he'll come out the other side in the garden of Destiny. Will Destiny let Monty read from his book? Probably not, but I think being there might be comfort enough.

There's a slim chance of Jenny ever meeting Destruction, but they are more similar than you may think. Jenny, like him, is a prodigal who left her post, whose life always seems to fall apart, who struggles with a whirlwind of emotions that she can barely comprehend. And while he's off in a secluded land, finding new ways to channel creation rather than the purpose he was made for, she's rebuilding her life, as crazy as it may be.

And, well... we all know who the Night Nurse works for.

[gudfornuthin]

Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

[to-thelakes]

sleepy

pairing; matt murdock x fem!reader

summary; re-adjusting to anti-depressants was never an easy task but you have your vigilante boyfriend to help.

warnings; fluff, just pure fluff, reader is on anti-depressants and very very sleepy, also a cheese lover

notes; this one-shot is definitely at least a few months old, i think i wrote it when i originally switched my dosage so it's a little chaotic. i feel like there's a lack of fics talking or discussing antidepressants so i like filling in the gap to comfort anyone who was suffering the sleepiness and shitty feelings like i was those first few months. also this is my first matty one-shot i'm releasing so please enjoy <3

masterlist

You were so tired. The first two weeks of antidepressants, you were told, would be the worst but it hadn’t prepared you for just how exhausted you felt. You had spent most of the first three days, curled up in bed and sleeping the day away. By the fourth day, your snack supplies had already begun to dwindle which is the opposite of what you needed right now.

And by the fifth day, you had to venture out to the store. And that had killed you off. You had gotten back, grabbed a bag of chips and curled up on the couch. Within a few hours you were asleep and you stayed like that for another four hours. The TV had suddenly seemed to get astronomically loud and it woke you from your slumber.

So, with a little huff, you rolled off the couch and began to make something proper to eat for dinner. But you felt exhausted. It clung to your mind, hovering over you as you tried to make cheesy pasta. Everything felt impossible and slow and it was frustrating but it was made better when you heard the familiar tap-tap-tap on the fire escape window. 

A grin spread across your face as you left your pasta to heat up the cheese, pulling the window open as Matt Murdock climbed through. He was still in his Daredevil costume and you thought he looked rather silly but he already knew that’s what you thought of his costume. He liked hearing you tease him.

But rather than saying anything, you just wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him. Your eyes fell closed as you snuggled into him making him chuckle softly.

“It’s nice to see you too, darling,” He greeted softly. All you had the energy to do was hum in vague acknowledgement. His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a moment before he softly reminded you about the food on the stove. So, you reluctantly pulled back and went over to the pan. You split the pasta into two bowls and turned around just as Matt pulled his helmet off. He placed it down on the counter before cautiously walking over to you.

“I’m sleepy,” You mumbled softly as you passed him the bowl. He took a hold of it, searching for the fork before he began to eat it. You had added a little bit of seasoning, salt, pepper, garlic powder in hopes of giving it a little more flavour. But you knew within the first bite and from the look on Matt’s face that you had gone overboard with the garlic. A huff escaped your lips and you placed the bowl on the side, “I’m going back to bed,” You declared, giving up for the day. Matt chuckled, listening to your footsteps as you walked across the apartment to your bed.

The air moved around you as you face-planted and he couldn’t help another chuckle as he turned around. His gaze landed somewhere near you but you weren’t even paying attention. Sleep was desperate to crawl up your spine and take you in but Matt was here now and you wanted to see him for a bit.

He managed to place the bowl on your side before he navigated his way carefully through your apartment. He could smell a bowl of hummus on the floor somewhere, you had a habit of leaving random crockery on the floor so he was being careful before he reached your bed. He crawled onto it before he sat cross-legged across from you.

“How long have you slept today?” He asked curiously. You mumbled in vague response but he didn’t catch a single word of it. He reached out towards you and gently pushed your head back so that you would tilt your head to the side, “What was that?” He had a teasing lilt to his tone and it made you want to smack him.

“A while but I’m sleepy,” You muttered. Matt knew that you were on new medication. You had tried to hide it from him a few days ago but he could smell your body going haywire. It was the same with everyone he had known who switched medication. Body’s went haywire while they adjusted before eventually settling back into routine.

That’s all this was but he still found your sleepy-grumpiness adorable. Matt held his hand out towards you and you reluctantly dragged yourself so you could curl into his lap. His fingers began to run through your hair but the strands were getting caught on his gloves. You let out disgruntled noises before he decided to take his gloves off. Then his fingertips began to massage your scalp and you hummed happily.

“You feeling better?” He asked. You ‘mhm’d in response and he could tell that you were going to fall asleep in his lap, “I need to change, darling. Need you to get out of my lap.” There was an amused lilt to his voice and another disgruntled noise fell from your lips. You moved out of his lap before dropping onto the top of the bed. Matt always found your mood while sleepy to be not all that dissimilar to a cat. You hated being disturbed when you were curled up and comfortable and when you were, you gave the offender the evils.

You assumed Matt didn’t know that you did that but he could sense it. He had always been able to feel your gaze boring into him.

“In the usual place?” He asked. You let out another hum of agreement before you burrito’d in your covers, snuggling your face into the pillow. He changed silently, listening to your heartbeat and breathing to see if you had fallen asleep. But it seemed you weren’t falling into it quite yet. Once he had changed, he walked over to the bed and lay on top of the mattress.

And that was when you unburritoed yourself and crawled on top of Matt. You practically curled up on his chest, burritoing both of you with the covers as you snuggle into his neck. Matt’s arms wrapped around your back.

“Much better,” You mumbled under your breath. He chuckled softly at your words and you let your eyes close. Your breathe evened out relatively quickly, “Much better.” You snuggled up to him, peppering kisses across his neck before you nuzzled there. Matt grinned and pressed a kiss against your hairline.

“Glad I could be of service,” He teased. You grumbled against his chest but he merely continued to grin, kissing your hairline again before he let his eyes fall closed.

[themultifanshipper]

“You utter cunt!”

“Fuck you!”

That was how karting usually ended when you two were involved. No matter where either of you started on the grid, you and Liam always found a way to crash into each other.

I blacked out, and an hour later this monstrosity was born! Hope you enjoy

Also I used alpha tauri bc i refuse to put Visa Cash Card Paypal App Racing Redbulls in my goddamm fics.

Warnings: gn!reader, rough sex, lots of swearing, rivals to lovers, daddy kink, corruption kink, smidge of angst, like 2 seconds of fluff before it descends into madness

“That was my line!”

“You call that a line? Ha! My blind grandmother can see that’s a shit line!”

And you were only thirteen then. Now you were both in formula 1. But unfortunately, the insults hadn’t matured, and neither had you.

“You absolute wankstain! What the fuck was that?!”

“That was me having to crash into my teammate! Because my teammate is a shit driver who doesn’t leave me any room, you fucking prick!”

“Oh, dear! Looks like the alpha tauri duo are having a trackside screaming match... again.”

Crofty sighed. At this point it was almost a weekly occurrence. You and Liam were bitter rivals on track and had been since you started karting all those years ago. It always ended in a screaming match that usually lasted well into the evening, and sometimes all the way up the corridors of your hotel rooms, and one time, it ended with Liam shoving you into your room and fucking you right there on the carpet.

That was one time. And you and Liam had never talked about it. The next day you’d bickered on the private jet, as per usual, and just like that it was forgotten.

Except it wasn’t, not really.

The problem was that Liam had unknowingly taken your virginity that night. And it was, by default, the best sex you had ever had. But your relationship stayed the same and the two of you never even acknowledged what happened. You weren’t obsessed with the concept of virginity either of course, it was what it was, and he was you first, whatever. But it would be nice if he stopped being such a huge prick, you know?

Then came the end of season celebrations in Abu Dhabi. You’d been drinking heavily to forget this nightmare of a season and the fact that you (just you, not Liam) had essentially been threatened to stop fighting next season or you would be out of a seat faster than you could say ‘hypocrisy’.

You tried your best to avoid him all evening. But he kept appearing in your line of sight, on the dancefloor, getting drinks at the bar, shuffling off to the toilets every now and then. You kept drinking so that your vision would hopefully go so blurry you wouldn’t be able to see him at all, but of course with those drinks came the need to pee.

So, there you were in one of the stalls thinking about the face of the man you were trying hard not to think about. Then, said man walked in, crossed the room and the sound of him undoing his zipper was heard.

You knew it was him from his stupid shoes that you recognised very well, as he had once thrown them at your head. That was an incident worthy of getting fired....

Anyway, for some obscure reason (about 7 tequila cocktails) you thought it was a great idea to voice that thought out loud.

“I never told you, but those are the ugliest shoes on the fucking planet”.

There was a pause as he zipped his fly back up.

“Jesus, are you stalking me now? The fuck are you doing in there?”

“Pissing, obviously”

Another pause.

“Right” he said “anything else you want to tell me? Or can I get back to having fun now?”

You rolled your eyes “Yeah actually, you need to stop crashing into me, dickwad”.

He snorted. “And why the fuck would I do that”.

“Because I’m out of the seat next time we crash, and because you fucking owe me, so please just cool it with the- !”

“Wait, why the fuck do I owe you anything? It’s not my fault you can’t drive!”

“Because you fucking took my virginity Liam!”

Okay maybe you weren’t completely over it.

You could’ve heard a pin drop. You desperately hoped there wasn’t anyone else in the stalls.

“What?!”

You were so embarrassed you tried to get out of answering by flushing the toilet and waiting for him to leave.

Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Unlock the door, please” He sounded almost winded, which confused you so much you actually opened the door. He was leaning against the wall and as his eyes snapped to yours, you could see there were tears in them.

Your bewilderment must have been visible because he immediately wrapped his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

“I’m so sorry you’re first time was like that... I’m so, so sorry...”

You pushed him off enough to be able to breathe again “The sex was great Liam, what the fuck are you sorry for?”

He stroked your hair as he spoke, refusing to meet your eyes. “Because... I thought you hated me so I... Your first time shouldn’t be, you know, hate-sex. I thought that was the only way I would get to do it with you so I-   I didn’t know you’d never done it before- it was a spur of the moment thing”.

You were even more confused. “The only way you’d get to do it?  What the fuck does that mean?”

He finally looked at you and he seemed so weirdly vulnerable, so heartbroken that your brain started to catch up, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Do you...” your heart was beating fast as you scanned his face for a reaction “like me?”

He had a pained look on his face and just looked down at the floor. He didn’t like you. It went deeper than that.

“Liam look at me” He did. You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night, you know” he said softly. 

“Neither have I” you whispered, and your eyes met as he looked at you in shock.

You both moved at the same time, crashing your lips and bodies together as the years of tension finally washed away and you were on the same wavelength for the first time.

As you both caught your breath a minute later, he chuckled. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel. I owe you a do-over”.

And do-over he did.

As in, he did you, over every surface.

It started out sweet enough. He carried you to the bed, undressed you slowly and took his time fucking you slowly, almost maddeningly so. But you both quickly realised that he’d already corrupted you the first time, and now you liked it rough. So he gave it to you. First he flipped you over on the bed, grabbed your hair and pushed you face down into the sheets as he pounded into you mercilessly from behind, occasionally leaving hand prints on your ass, then he took you standing up against the glass windows, one hand around your throat, the other sneaking down to touch you where you were making a mess of yourself.

“Fuck, you like it like this don’t you? You’re basically dripping onto the carpet”.

Then he flipped you and lifted you up, your legs hooking over his arms as he entered you again, the position giving you no choice but to just take it.

“Yes, take it baby, fuck- so tight around me, take my fucking cock” he growled and bit into your shoulder, making you moan. “You’d take anything I give you right? Such a fucking slut for it my god”

His hips stuttered as he had a thought.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it? My fault that you take it like you were made for it, fuck”  his thrusts became even harder as you both felt your highs quickly approaching, your hands were scrambling for purchase on his sweaty shoulders, settling in his hair to give it a sharp tug, his answer was a deep thrust that knocked the breath out of you.

“Fucking made for me. Only I get to see you like this now, don’t I? My little cockslut, all for me. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded quickly, but he made a noise of discontent.

“Words baby, I need words or I won’t let you come. Who do you belong to?”

“You Daddy, please I’m gonna come” you couldn’t help it, the name slipping out as his hips stuttered and he made a punched-out noise.

“Shit- say that again baby, that sounded good”.

You huffed out a whine, now was not the time to be embarrassed “Daddy please, please I need to come so bad”.

He groaned “Okay baby go ahead, come on daddy’s cock, now.”

You came so hard. All over yourself, and it ran down onto his thighs and the feeling of you dripping everywhere sent him over the edge, thrusting a couple more times before stilling, deep inside you as you felt him fill you up.

He carried you like that into the bathroom, setting you down gently in the shower, legs and hips sore from the position and you both spent an eternity in there, soaping each other up and kissing tenderly, trying to make up for lost time.

As you got into bed with him, you checked your phone and saw two things: the alarm for your flight was in 2 hours, and a text that read “does this mean you two will be cooperating from now on?”  from your performance engineer.

Your cheeks burned red, she had the room right next door.

[myfairstarlight]

Alright, let's talk about Colin's entrapment line and why Penelope offering an annulment was significant, shall we? Arguably the most controversial part of this season, isn't it?

I'm not going to delve too long on the entrapment line again actually, but to summarise, Colin has been traumatised by a similar situation before, and right now, he's hurt. And the thing about being angry with your best friend is that you know what to say to hurt them the most. We see it in Eloise's and Penelope's fight, as they threw each other's insecurities in the other's faces. Colin, two episodes ago, was defending Penelope against Portia, who was accusing her of entrapping him, so yes, his mind will jump to that first. But also note that the whole time he refuses to look at her, because he knows his words are cutting and will hurt and he knows his resolve would break if he looked at her, which is contrasted by Penelope directly looking at him to tell him she loves him and did not mean for this to happen like this. He does not look because he knows she loves him, this is not Marina's situation exactly who only wanted a way out and did not see him as much else than a means to an end, and that's why it's so much more difficult to deal with for him. Penelope loves him.

And he's already almost lost her once, as angry and hurt as he is, he cannot fathom the idea of letting her go, when he remembers how empty he felt without her letters, or at the idea of her with Debling. So he's still here, determined to marry her.

So now we get to e8. The marriage was not technically consummated, and the Lady Whistledown business is finally settled. So Penelope offers the annulment, to set him, and his family, free from her mess.

They never directly address Colin's entrapment comment again, but with Penelope offering the annulment, it is now implied she's been thinking about this the whole time. It is a very real possibility that by that point, Penelope already knew she was pregnant, and it's been speculated if she told Colin in that scene after Francesca's wedding or not (I personally don't think she did, to not add to his guilt at that moment, and perhaps to not influence his decision, knowing she would be offering the annulment soon) and it parallels Marina's situation again, except in this case, Penelope does not wish to trap Colin with a baby, even if it is his. She knows how much Marina impacted Colin, and does not wish to do the same thing she had prevented Marina to do. The best part about this though? Colin is stunned (Edit: I changed the adjective here as someone rightfully pointed out I was exaggerating by saying "flabbergasted" when his reaction is more on the subtle side the English language is the bane of my existence). Frankly, he probably forgot he even said that, the same way he forgot about his "I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington" comment - those were words said in the heat of the moment he never actually believed. Not once has Colin thought of either breaking the engagement, or get an annulment even after the betrayal.

He could have still eloped with Marina even after learning the truth, but he didn't because she was not honest with him from the start. He learns Penelope has been living a double life this whole time, and yet he stays.

It is significant that Penelope listened and acknowledged Colin's point of view, the same way she asked him to simply stand by her side and support her. Also note that she never says "our family", she says "you or your family".

Despite already being married, this whole time, it did not feel like they were, and she knew that as long as there was still this barrier between them, she could never truly be part of that family, but it's alright, she could live with that, she has mended things with her own after all, and she can support herself. Whatever the outcome, she'll be alright, she believes.

Fortunately for her, she does not get to find out what that future would entail because Colin absolutely hates the idea of letting her go.

Because after all, she's a mess, but she's his mess.

[semisolidmind]

How do you think season 5 would’ve gone in your Bad End or Twice As Bad AU?

ok, so

y'know how, since season 4, mk has been going through the whole “i don’t want to use or even acknowledge my monkey form because it makes me feel like a monster” thing? well, bad end/twice as bad mk doesn’t have that hangup to address, because he’s spent his entire life up until the shows’ events in that form, training and living in it. he knows no other way.

he is an incredibly powerful monkey demon; he is the harbinger of chaos, and he's fine with it.

his “mortal” form is the one he’s been having visions and confrontations with. (i imagine the ink curse in s4 using his mortal form to taunt him about being weak now that he's got mortals he cares about– "keep on compromising for them, and you'll end up just like them; too small and insignificant to ever make a difference.")

instead of having to face his fear that he may be dangerous (because as a crazy powerful monkey demon trained by the two other most powerful monkey demons in the universe, of course he is), his mortal self is trying to tell him that he doesn't have to be a monster like wukong. death and rampant destruction don't have to be his legacy.

the mortal mk in his meditative visions tells him that caring for his friends doesn't make him weak or undeserving of his power and lineage. the visions he has during the guardian trials (and the guardians themselves) tell him that in order to be a real hero, he has to care about those that his training would tell him are "lesser" than him (also that his friends aren't worth less just because they don't have a ridiculous amount of power).

mk would learn to accept that every being in the world has value, regardless of their status. nuwa would tell him this as well, when he meets her.

season 5 would be bad end/twice as bad mk's journey of accepting that he has a mortal heart, and that caring for others has immense power all on its own. he must choose to be the change to the status quo.

he'd always known he was an "agent of chaos," but the events of season five cement in his mind that he was brought into the world for a reason. just that now, he alone gets to decide what that reason is.

----------

as for his mentors...

getting captured and re-bound by the gold fillet wasn't exactly on the monkey king's itinerary, and he's majorly pissed. he levels the surrounding area about it, and decimates all of the soldiers sent to subdue him (regardless of how agonizing the tightening spell is; the pain just makes him angrier). he breaks every ward and barrier placed against him, tears apart any enemy who dares to come close. his rage is a force to be reckoned with.

wukong had sworn he'd never be subjugated by heaven ever again; he's definitely not just gonna let this slide. the celestial realm will suffer for their breach of the tentative peace they brokered by leaving the monkey king well enough alone.

as the only one that gets captured after his fit of rage, he only has to get himself out of celestial prison. easy, despite how many wards are placed on his cell (it's not like heaven has ever been much of a threat to him before, after all). he has to get back to the group, for his family's sake. nothing will stand in his way.

macaque only barely dodges getting locked into a fillet as well, and uses his advantage to launch a sneak attack on nezha and li jing; this forces them back and gives the gang their chance to escape in the chaos caused by the monkey bros.

the shadow general takes the distraction provided by wukong's rampage to get reader and everyone else somewhere safe. from there, the gang helps mk find all the stones, defeat the guardians trials, and eventually make their way to the pillar.

both wukong and macaque try to stop mk from sacrificing himself (in-between fighting the nine-headed demon), and reader tries to talk him down from it. however, she can't argue with the look of quiet determination on his face..she knows that he's made up his mind. with tears in her eyes she embraces him, then lets him go.

wukong tries to go after him, but one look at reader stops him. she's...she's accepted his decision. just like she always has. maybe...maybe this time, wukong should too. he sheds tears and holds onto his wife... but doesn't follow his son into the pillar.

the world goes silent, before bursting back to life.

the stones are destroyed, the nine-headed demon dissapears, and things go back to almost normal.

----------

—i imagine reader, with her skills as a peacemaker developed from her centuries as queen of flower fruit mountain, is the one who keeps everyone calm and grounded throughout their ordeals. she's gotten to know them all through her adopted charge, and keeps them on track.

—now it'd make sense for reader to be left relatively safe on ffm, but given the state of the universe in this season, the monkey bros aren't about to let her out of their sight (weird end-of -the-world-again family road trip). they don't care much for the rest of existence, but even they have to acknowledge that they'd prefer the world and their mountain unbroken.

—the pagoda sequence is a very emotionally tense one for reader and the boys in twice as bad. reader relives being stolen and the early years of her imprisonment; after they break her out of the hundred eyed demon's spell, she won't look at either of them and flinches away when they try to touch her; little does she know, her husbands relived the same thing (plus all the other bad shit they've done). they've learned enough compassion for her to feel a bit of shame.