#but at least the narrative is complimenting him and calling him pretty
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yeap😁
dw books describing any other doctor: loool such a funny man/woman 😂😂 look at their ridiculous clothes 🤣🫵 and the way their face makes no sense it is so weird 🫢 what a freak 😒
dw books describing the eighth doctor: Oh what a beautiful man 😍 look at his big light blue eyes with long lashes Oh what a look of innocence and kindness in his face Omg his lips are soo soft and kissable He is dashing with his long waving curls And his outfit is amazing so old fashioned yet with Taste ooohhh his smile is the most wonderful thing in the world 🥰 And his haaands oooff with their long fingers of a pianist they look so nice to hold 😘 Byronesque Oscar Wylde Any Other Victorian Figure So Handsome Pretty Sexy Fine 👍
#it’s so funnyyyy#he may have went thru more pain and suffering than jesus#but at least the narrative is complimenting him and calling him pretty#eighth doctor#doctor who
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Hi Stormblessed (dope name btw),
Don't know if this is the best place for this essay or the right time but I need to word-vomit this out, or I'm gonna be a JK-style spaced out zombie all day.
It's a truth universally acknowledged that a big part of the fandom tends to mis-characterize the members based on edits, fanfics and out-of-context clips. Something probably mostly to do with how social media platforms have been pushing for these short videos over the last few years. Why watch 300 hours of original content (some of which is behind a paywall) if you can get the gist of it (you think) from TikToks?
My particular point has to do with how that allows for the narrative (aka made up shit) especially around Jimin to grow. All of the members get that treatment, the maknaes worse due to their popularity, but due to how a big part of Army are also tkk shippers, Jimin is the one who's portrayal often skews more negative. The others' perceptions just are neutral or fantastical in a sense that they're more like badly written male leads. Don't get me wrong, solos throwing around bs is nothing singular to him but no one gets accused (said completely seriously btw) of sleeping his way into BTS or the release of his album.
After I saw this vitriol for the first time I had to actually sit down because wtf.
And then I started wondering why that is, and came to the conclusion that it is:
(Internalized) misogyny and sexism
Blatant homophobia
Jimin is the member the most obviously in tune of his femininity. He hasn't subscribed to gender norms for a decade at least, and once his hyper-masculine-esque persona from the debut days was dismissed, he ventured further. (That isn't to dismiss the growth they all have shown in that area.)
But antis, akgaes, Solos and shippers take that femininity and apply every stereotype and misogynistic idea to JM.
Traits they f.e. hate:
He is openly flirty with many people (members especially)
He is very physical, and touch is arguably one of his love languages and go-to way of comforting smn
He is pretty af and knows it
He's sensual and sexy and knows it
He's cute
He's sweet (aka a good fucking human)
But why does that make "them" hate him so much?
Because they have been taught that these traits in women (like themselves) are bad. What makes it worse, however, is that the men around JM all know these things to be true, acknowledge them as true and compliment him on them. In the case of JK (since this is about Jikook at the end of the day):
He loves flirty JM despite sometimes not knowing how to handle him (ehem the 'shameless convo'). He flirts back (fe the whole live where he was in bed begging for JM to come over)
Tkkers and such love pulling the "JK hates it" card. Which is nonsense, considering how he seeks JM's comfort when he's down (esp during concerts), actively cuddles JM (In The Soop) and never uses all his big muscles to shove JM but rather to just carry him around. Compare that to the jokingly disgusted face Yoongi pulls when Tae tries to hold his hand, and it becomes glaringly obvious that no one who says the members dislike touching each other has a leg to stand on. Calling it harassment goes so far beyond any line of sanity...
JK - like all of BTS - acknowledges that Jimin's beauty is simply out of this world. They are regularly stunned by his appearance
Just gonna point to JK's reaction to Filter, Blood Sweat & Tears, Black Swan, and Set Me Free pt 2 here. JK calls JM sexy so often it's hilarious
* inserts clip of absolutely WHIPPED JK after JM cutely punches him during that performance of Boy With Luv *. Also we know that "cute" his JK's type as he himself admitted.
Jimin has been Jungkook's comfort person for so long, and with such depth that he dedicated a whole trip and video to him. They care for each other so deeply that the only logical conclusion was to go to the military together.
Aka: he is all that they hate in the girls/women in their normal life so they can't do nothing but tear him down. They envy how comfortable he seems in his own skin, how easily he goes from sexy to cute, how loved he is by those around him. On top of that is how gay people are still perceived and treated by a lot of countries around the world. No matter what they say, being an army and shipping men doesn't make you automatically an ally and non-homophobic.
They treat Jimin like they would most likely treat the lgtbqia+ people in real life: something to be careful of, someone dishonest and slutty.
They conflate everything they hate about themselves and gay people and * boom * out come frankly terrifying tweets, fanfics and shit.
Contrast that with how these very same people fetishize the relationship between Tae and Jungkook - either viewing them like men who watch p_rn involving two women, or a self-insert with how little character they have - and that's the state of the army shipping community. They could be Barbie dolls getting smashed together and you wouldn't know the difference.
I'm not saying Jikookers are better in that, but the language they tend to use is incredibly different.
---
That was a lot.
To end on a sweet note: I saw a quote on Twitter "If you want to find out what someone fears losing, look at what they photograph."
And...well. that just screams Jikook
Hi! Thank you, I like my name too 🥰
And yeah, basically I agree. I think there is more to it as well, but that a lot of it could be boiled down to all this. And yeah, jikookers are just as guilty of this too, but not always in the same way. Sometimes in a way that is more fetishizing but is just as harmful. Take it from someone who has seen it all in my inbox from people who feel safe on anon 😂😂
Thanks for sharing! And your quote at the end is SOOOOO cute!
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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XVII.
GIF by darksber
PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character
SUMMARY: Obligatory storm chapter.
WORD COUNT: ~13.4k
RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.
CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: the crime plot is slowly but surely progressing, smut, a very wet blowjob, p in v sex, dirty talk bc duh, using panties as a gag, praise praise praise, javi being soft and vulnerable my god, STEVE MURPHY MENTION!!, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.
DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.
A/N: i'm just absolutely feral over these two... that is all <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3 [ paloma's piano song ]
♰ read on ao3. ♰
♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰
Javier wanders through the quiet aisles of the library, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as he makes his way towards the now familiar astronomy section.
He pauses occasionally, eyes scanning the titles on the spines of countless books, searching for something that might hold the answers he’s looking for.
What begun as a mere attempt to impress Paloma had unexpectedly blossomed into a genuine interest. It was during a reading on lunar cycles that a sudden gut feeling prompted him to revisit the case files.
And there, in the minutest of details, he spotted a new pattern.
Each date of the murders fell in perfect alignment with the full moon phase. This illuminated the otherwise randomness of the crimes—one girl per month, precisely when the moon shone its brightest.
He read over the files at home, searching for any significance the moon held within the context of the original group, but found nothing. This raised a crucial question: Is this the same group resurfacing, or a new player putting his own spin on things? Understanding this pattern isn’t just a matter of detail; it’s essential for deciphering the motive.
The slow progress of the investigation is frustrating, with each discovery taking its sweet fucking time to unfold. But at least this is some kind of development.
“Did you find what you were lookin’ for?” Paloma’s whisper catches his attention, drawing him from his focused search. He glances through the narrow gaps between the shelves and books to find her standing on the other side. Her dazzling brown eyes meet his, a warm smile tugging at her lips.
“Yeah, actually,” he scratches at his jaw, “She’s standin’ on the other side of this thing.” Flirtatious as ever, he’s pleasantly surprised to see her. She hadn’t mentioned working today during their phone call last night.
Then again she might’ve, but after talking her through an orgasm then finishing in his own fist shortly after, Javier was more focused on reeling himself in from how good her pretty little voice sounded while she was whispering pure filth into the receiver.
Part of her face is hidden, yet he doesn’t miss the entertained expression that dances across her features.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any books on the moon, would you?” He asks, trying not to let his mind drift to the sounds of her moans and pants over the static of the phone.
“I don’t think there are any libraries on the moon,” she banters playfully, “but we can always call the NASA hotline and ask.” Her teasing has him rolling his eyes, yet he can’t hold back a lopsided smile.
“Alright, smart ass, you know what I meant.”
She laughs softly, her amusement barely contained as she tries not to disturb the other patrons. “Yeah, we got a couple. They’re on this side, though.”
He licks his lips slowly, narrowing his gaze. “Really? Because I see a few right here.” He pulls out two books that had caught his eye before she arrived, holding them up for her to see.
“Yeah, but there are better ones over here.” Paloma’s voice is inviting as she slowly starts to move down the aisle, her presence a tempting distraction, and he follows like a desperate puppy.
They reach the end of the row, and now her eyes narrow teasingly, silently urging him to make the first move.
Which he does, obviously.
Rounding the tall shelf, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. The warmth of his body against hers is very welcomed, and she looks up at him with bright eyes that are swimming in excitement.
“You’re very lucky there ain’t no cameras back here,” Paloma breathes out in a hushed tone. He presses her back against the flat end of the wooden surface, gazing down at her.
She bites her lip and his eyes lock onto the movement, bringing his thumb up to gently pull the flesh from between her teeth. “Lucky me,” he murmurs, dipping his head to place a tender kiss on her cheek.
She pouts. “Really? Just on the cheek?”
“You make it so hard to be normal about this.” Javi leans in to kiss her properly, her lips warm and soft, tasting faintly of the coffee she had earlier.
His forearm rests against the shelf, towering over her, hip jutting out slightly. In his other hand, he easily holds the two books.
The sound of their kiss breaking has her blushing, hoping no one was nearby to hear it. Thank God this area of the library is usually a dead zone.
Her eyes fall to the items he’s holding. “Still keepin’ up with this shtick?” she jests, unable to help herself from doing so. Her laughter tapers off quickly when he shoots her a hardened look.
“Sorry,” she manages between snickers. “That was rude. M’glad you’re actually enjoyin’ it.”
“This shtick helped me notice a pattern. It’s why I’m here, actually. Looking for more information before I reach out to the professor at UCLA again.”
Paloma reaches out to play with the golden star pinned to his chest, her fingers tracing its edges as she listens intently. “What’s the pattern?” she looks up at him with genuine curiosity.
He explains, and she is truly awestruck at how intricate it all really is. It’s the same feeling she got after watching the press conference. “When’s the next full moon?”
“In two days.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, “Maybe enforcing a curfew. Make sure everyone is safe and at home. That won’t be very difficult to do considering the storm that’s headed this way.”
When it rains, it pours. The last time their little town had seen any type of precipitation was the day of Nina’s funeral, and that seems like it was forever ago. Now, they’re being warned of some pretty strong winds and potential flooding.
“Then maybe nothin’ll happen,” she suggests, her voice hopeful.
“I sure fucking hope so,” Javi’s eyes drift to the nearest window where he sees the gray clouds gathering in the distance.
He’s frowning, lost in thought, and she reaches out to get him to look at her again. “No need to get all frowny. Save all that for the town hall later tonight.”
Javier exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders, his attention back on her. “You excited to see your future husband?”
She knows he’s talking about the mayor, yet she can’t help the way her heart flutters at the idea of that being him. She shakes those delusions away as his brown eyes hold an expectant stare.
“Y’know I could say yes ‘n use this as an opportunity to piss you off, but I’m bein’ good today—so I’m as excited to see him as you are to have to be up there with him.”
“You’re bein’ good today?” He cocks his head to the side, staring down at her with a roguish smile. “And you wouldn’t get very far with trying to piss me off. I know that asshole has nothing on me.”
“I’m always good, Javi,” she purrs, though her tone suggests otherwise. Her eyes darken slightly as she hooks her fingers onto his duty belt, pulling him closer.
His knee moves between her thighs, and she silently curses the fact that she wore jeans to work today. “You might think that, but we dunno know for sure… still gotta try him out myself. See if it really compares.”
The arm that was resting against the shelf comes down, and he wraps his fingers around her throat, holding her with a tantalizing pressure that gets her wet and throbbing.
A gentle moan sneaks past her lips. “You wanna ‘try him out,’ be my guest, nena. I don’t give a fuck.”
“Really, ‘cause it feels like you do,” she quips, her fingers grazing the growing bulge between them.
Javier’s grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing with a possessive intensity. “Cálmate,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.
“Make me.”
They’re jolted back to reality when a bang echoes from nearby, the sharp sound enough to have him loosen his hold and pull back from her. “Like I said, you make it real fucking hard to be normal about this. ‘I’m always good, Javi’ my ass,” he mocks her with a wry smile.
She giggles, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, as she bites down on her thumb. The sight of him flustered only entertains her further. “M’sorry… can’t help but poke the bear.”
Their moment is further interrupted by the abrupt static of his walkie-talkie coming to life. An officer’s voice garbles through, requesting his assistance with a disturbance at the grocery store.
“Be right there,” Javier responds flatly, his mood shifting as he hands her the books he plucked out. “Weather’s got people acting like fucking idiots. I’ll come back for these later.”
“Don’t sweat it,” she reassures him, clutching them to her chest. “I’ll bring ‘em tonight. Give ‘em to you after the meetin’.” She’s visibly bummed that their time together is cut short, but remains optimistic about seeing him again. Soon, hopefully. Maybe on another date.
“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you then.” Javier leans in for a departing kiss, this one softer and sweeter. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of him calling her baby or any of the other terms of endearment that he has for her.
He adds a gentle nuzzle of his nose against hers before pulling away and making his exit, leaving her feeling all lovestruck against the bookshelf.
He knew the meeting was going to be a shit show. After putting out all relevant information through the press conference, the department has never been busier. Phones ringing left and right with false accusations, bullshit information, and the occasional prank call.
Partially expected but annoying nevertheless. No progress, aside from his own little lunar revelation, has been made.
So it makes sense that the people of Seminary are currently acting out in the stands of the high school’s gym. An unorthodox place to meet, but the rain had exposed leaks in the government building’s weathered roof so they had to improvise and move it here.
Javier leans against the fold out table that is placed right in the middle of the basketball court, arms crossed, watching Jonah Abbott deflect every question thrown his way, answering with something completely unrelated. Typical politician.
He rubs at his temples, craving a cigarette. His eyes scan the crowd until he sees Paloma sitting on the far left side, their gazes meeting and her mouth curving into a small smile which has him feeling a little less miserable about being here.
That is until the crowd starts to get riled up again, being very vocal about their gripes with the murders, as if officials haven’t been working tirelessly to figure things out.
The girl in the hospital remains unconscious and unidentified—who knows when she’ll wake up.
Another dead end just as they thought they were gaining some traction. Their knowledge of the occult only takes them so far.
Fear and anger envelop the room with an oppressive weight, voices escalating, each question sharper and more accusatory than the one before as frustration boils over.
“How can we expect y’all to keep us safe if more dead girls are bein’ found left and right?!” a man shouts, pointing his crooked finger at the three of them.
“This is what happens when we stray from the Lord ‘n quit instillin’ His will onto our children!” an elderly woman with an actual Bible clutched to her chest cries out.
“Maybe s’best if we took matters into our own hands ‘n found this son of a bitch ourselves!” another voice yells, and murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.
His jaw tightens. He’s well aware that the deep-seated religious beliefs of this town run strong; and the murders, with their disturbing satanic imagery, have only heightened the community’s fears and suspicions.
“Folks, I understand your frustration,” Jonah starts and this gets an eye roll out of Javi who plays it off by looking down at his boots, “We’re doin’ everythin’ in our power to find who’s responsible for these heinous crimes. But takin’ the law into your own hands is not. the. answer. It’ll only lead to more chaos and possibly more innocent people gettin’ hurt.”
“The law ain’t doin’ nothin’ but sittin’ back ‘n lettin’ it happen!”
Comments and questions fly at them from all directions, with smaller arguments erupting on either side of the gym. Javier and Romeo exchange a knowing look, silently expressing their shared annoyance.
The sheriff steps up, taking control to regain the order that the incompetent mayor had lost.
“What’s important right now is that we all get prepared for the bad weather that’s hittin’ us pretty bad these next couple of days. S’already startin’ to pick up outside now,” Romeo announces, his deep voice cutting through the chaos.
Quiet murmurs fill the space, the faint sound of rain hitting the roof almost amplified now that it has been pointed out.
“Most of the town is gonna be shuttin’ down tomorrow at midday, so I suggest gettin’ your essentials and supplies tonight or in the mornin’ before you’re shit out of luck,” he continues, his tone brooking no room for nonsense.
His crassness serves its purpose, smothering most of the arguments from before. He motions for his right hand man to continue, and Javier clears his throat, straightening his posture and pushing himself off the table.
“We will be upping patrols and enforcing a curfew after the storm passes through,” His voice reverberates through the room, steady and authoritative. “The anonymous tip line is still running in case anyone sees or hears anything out of the ordinary.”
Javier scans the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as he can, trying to convey his sincerity and determination.
“We understand that these are frightenin’ times,” The sheriff interjects. “We’re dealin’ with somethin’ unprecedented, ‘n it’s natural to feel scared or frustrated. ‘Specially when they’re bastardizin’ the word of God. But we need to stand together, support one another, and trust that we are doin’ everythin’ in our power to bring this person to justice.”
The room is silent now, the only sound is the soft patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder.
Javier notices Paloma again, her eyes fixed on him like he’s the only person in the world, and he almost stumbles over his words as he continues with the more procedural part of the announcement.
“We’re also working closely with weather experts to monitor the storm. We’ll keep you updated with any new information as it comes in. In the meantime, stay vigilant, look out for your neighbors, and follow the curfew to ensure everyone’s safety.”
The townspeople nod, their faces a mix of concern and reluctant acceptance. He knows that words alone won’t be enough to quell their fears, but he hopes that this assembly has at least provided some clarity and direction.
After a few more closing remarks, the meeting ends, and Abbott wastes no time approaching him and the sheriff. “That was great work, gentlemen. Lost ‘em for a second there, but you two wrangled ‘em back under control. S’why I got the best of the best…” his words are slick, and Javier can see right through the man’s bullshit, “that will hopefully bring an end to all this madness soon, right?”
Abbott doesn’t care about the town’s safety—he just wants the murders solved so the media attention goes away. The newfound scrutiny is clearly bothering him.
Apparently there is such thing as bad press.
“We’re workin’ as hard as we can,” Romeo replies curtly, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.
Javier quickly bows out to ‘prevent any dispute from breaking out in the parking lot’ but really, it’s because he knows he won’t be able to hold his tongue against the arrogant mayor if he’s around him any longer.
He positions himself by the large exit double doors as the crowd files out. Javi nods to those he recognizes from the bar or his frequent patrols in town. The weight of their expectations adds to the already heavy burden on his shoulders.
Just another part of the fucking job.
When the last person exits, he chains the doors closed and jogs over to his truck.
The rain falls gently, wetting his hair and sending droplets running down the roughened texture of his bomber jacket.
“Here are your books, space cowboy.” Paloma’s voice catches him by surprise. She seems to appear out of thin air, a colorful umbrella shielding her from the rain.
“Gracias, palomita,” he takes them from her and puts them in the cab of his truck.
“Tough crowd,” she remarks, looking around as more cars pull out, leaving the lot empty.
“They’re just scared. Fear makes people act out like that.”
“You handled it well. Unlike others…” Her tone carries a hint of amusement, eyeing his wet appearance and how the raindrops fall from the curve of his nose and the cut of his cheekbones. So dreamy.
He chuckles dryly, “Tell me about it.”
Just as the conversation begins to drift into flirtatious territory, Romeo’s car pulls up beside them with the window rolled down.
Javier is glad he resisted the urge to step forward and kiss her in the rain, though he knows she would have liked that.
Her father? Probably not so much.
“Finally got Abbott to stop runnin’ his mouth. S’like talkin’ to a spoiled brat,” he complains, clearly frustrated.
Paloma finds this interesting, especially given how he used to advocate for her to give Jonah a shot and go out on one date with him.
It never happened, and now her father’s irritation is almost a satisfying twist.
“You campin’ out in that dogshit trailer of yours?” Romeo asks Javier, shifting the conversation.
“Don’t have much of a choice.”
“You’re better off stayin’ with us.”
The comment throws him off but he doesn’t convey it, gaze flickering over to Paloma, who has an encouraging look already in her eyes.
Accept the fucking invite! It’s a dangerous, dangerous game, but one he’s foolish enough to be tempted to play.
“You sure?” Javi asks, a subtle trace of hesitation in his voice.
“Positive. Got more than enough room. Beats bein’ hunkered down with just this one,” Romeo jokes, glancing at his daughter.
“Jeez, daddy, thanks,” she playfully shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she rounds the car and gets into the passenger seat, closing and shaking off her wet umbrella.
“Alright,” he concedes and she’s over the freaking moon, “Thanks. I appreciate it. See you all tomorrow.”
Romeo nods in acknowledgement and Paloma winks at him behind her father’s back.
She is kneeling over her plants when Javier shows up the following day. The rain from last night and this morning has finally let up, and she’s using this pocket of dryness to put row covers over her garden to shield it from the severe weather.
“I’ve always admired a girl who likes to get her hands dirty,” he says from behind her with a cocky grin. She turns to face him, mud covering her overalls and caking her rain boots.
“How original,” she replies, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her gloved hand, smearing some dirt there in the process. “So damn humid, feels like the devil’s ballsack out today.”
Javi chuckles and steps closer, affectionately wiping the dirt from her forehead. “You have a way with words, sweetheart. Where’s your dad?”
“Went to get a few last-minute things ‘fore town closed up.”
“So I can kiss you without having to look over my shoulder?”
“Dunno if you wanna do all that when I’m dirtied up like this.”
“I think you wear the mud real nice,” he murmurs, pulling her to him. He places a wet kiss on her lips, which she reciprocates without hesitation, her tongue breaching his mouth.
“Guess I’m not too dirty for you after all,” she whispers when they part, a flirtatious simper ghosting over her mouth.
“Never that, preciosa. Do I need to remind you how dirty you were over the phone the other night?” he raises a brow, voice dropping to a low timbre that sends a thrill up her spine.
“You might, actually…” Her pulse quickens, a flush creeping up her neck as she recalls their late-night conversation.
It was the first time she’d ever done anything like that, and while she felt a bit embarrassed at the start, Javier’s soothing, erotic guidance had turned it into something fucking incredible. Everything he does is fucking incredible.
He hums appreciatively, “Wouldn’t mind that,” his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from her face.
He leans in again, capturing her lips in another kiss. His hands slide down to her hips, tracing the exposed skin along the side openings of her overalls, squeezing gently.
Paloma could really die a happy woman in his arms.
Javier groans softly, the sound vibrating against her mouth, making her knees weak. “I should help you finish covering these plants before the storm hits,” his tone makes it clear he’s struggling to pull himself away from her. “Before your dad gets home.” He clarifies.
“Yeah, you probably should,” she agrees, but not without placing a sweet peck to his chin.
As if she needed his help, but hey, when a man is willing; why not unload some of the labor onto him?
She hands him a row cover, her fingers lingering on his as they exchange the material. “Can’t have ya standin’ around lookin’ all pretty while I do all the hard work.” She beams.
“We certainly can’t have that,” there’s a grin on his face as he moves to help her finish the task.
Javier’s hands are deft and strong as he secures the covers, getting dirtied up and looking straight up manly. It has her clit tingling with arousal, imagining his fingers inside of her again and how fucking amazing they felt when she rode them in the bed of his truck.
Between his uniformed presence and country boy charm—this man is going to be the death of her.
His eyes never stray far from her, drinking in every detail of her mud-splattered appearance as she moves between planter boxes.
She catches him looking each time, sending a wink his way and his tongue pokes against his cheek bashfully.
He can’t help it, Paloma is just so beautiful.
A piece of wood, obscured by the mud, has Javier tripping over it, his feet betraying him as he loses balance on the slick, muddy ground.
Her hands fly up to cover her mouth in shock, eyes wide as she watches him go down, mud splattering everywhere.
She almost bursts into laughter but catches herself, the worry for him outweighing the amusement.
“Oh my goodness gracious, are you okay?!” she rushes towards him and discards her gloves.
Javier lies on his back, the cold, wet mud oozing through his shirt and coating his skin. He looks up at her, squinting one eye close. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he grunts, despite the faint ache he feels at his lower back.
Sitting up, he extends his hand towards her to get him back on his feet.
As soon as their hands touch, he seizes the moment. With a mischievous grin, he yanks her down with him.
She gasps, a startled shriek escaping her lips as she tumbles into the thick, squelchy mud beside him.
“I knew you were goin’ to do that!” she exclaims with exasperation and laughter.
“And yet you still tried to help me up anyway,” he retorts with a playful smirk.
With a flick of her wrist, she sends a handful of mud flying at him. It lands squarely on his cheek, sliding down in a comical, slow-motion descent until it plops into a heap on his lap.
“Oops,” she says with a feigned innocence.
In mere moments, they’re both engulfed in a muddy, joyful chaos. They spring to their feet and Javier begins to chase her around the garden, both of them taking turns flinging mud at each other.
They’re so engrossed in their antics that they don’t notice Romeo’s return.
The sight of them through the large bay window in the kitchen catches him off guard. He furrows his brows, puzzled and slightly amused by the raucous scene.
“Y’all look like a pair ‘a pigs runnin’ around like this.” her father’s voice rings out, dripping with bemusement as he descends the back porch steps.
His sturdy boots thud against the wooden planks when he approaches, gaze sweeping over them, taking in the sight of their disheveled, mud-coated figures.
“Javi slipped tryin’ to help me put the covers on and it was the funniest thing ever,” Paloma explains, her voice a little too high-pitched as she fails to clean herself up completely, wiping at her muddy cheeks, only managing to spread it further.
“Well, I reckon that’s one way to make a mess of things,” Romeo drawls, his gaze fixed on Javier with a pointed, almost accusatory edge.
Javier, caked in mud and feeling every bit like an overgrown teenager caught in trouble, manages a self-deprecating laugh. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”
He knows he needs to have the awkward conversation sooner rather than later. He has to tell Romeo about his relationship with Paloma and face whatever fallout comes with it.
She insists that her father will eventually come around, but it’s the immediate, explosive reaction that he dreads. He has to brace himself for the storm of anger and disappointment that is sure to erupt.
It won’t happen today nor tomorrow—not when he’s been offered shelter under his roof that Javi had stupidly agreed to, just to be near his fucking daughter.
What’s romance without a little risk?
“Well shit, if you wanna rinse off, I’d give it about…” Romeo glances up at the sky, his eyes calculating the darkening clouds. “Ten minutes ‘fore it starts raining again. Or you can use the hose,” he adds, gesturing towards the garden hose coiled beside the shed.
“M’not gonna get caught in the storm. Don’t wanna get shocked up. We’ll use the hose.” Paloma replies.
“Right,” he grunts, rubbing his jaw. He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I gotta finish puttin’ everythin’ away inside. Sure I can trust y’all out here?”
What a loaded fucking question.
“We’ll be fine, daddy. S’just a little mud.”
“I’ll try not to slip again,” Javier adds with a dry laugh, hoping he didn’t just make himself look like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man.
The sheriff snorts and gives a curt nod. “Alright then, you do that. Don’t need y’all trackin’ muck into the house.” He mutters, turning on his heel and heading back inside.
Javier watches him go, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he turns to Paloma. “Skatin’ on thin ice,” he says, beginning to walk towards the shed and trying to get some of the wet dirt off him.
Paloma’s smile fades slightly, a hint of frustration edging her words. “Wouldn’t be if someone––”
“Okay,” he cuts her off gently, already knowing where that conversation is headed. “Let’s rinse off before he comes back out here and kicks my ass.”
She huffs out a laugh, “Fine. Glad you knew where I was goin’ with that.”
Javier reaches for the hose, adjusting the nozzle to a gentle spray, then aims it at her soiled overalls. The cool water hits the fabric, making the mud dissolve into dark, swirling rivulets. As the grime starts to wash away, he moves methodically, making sure to hit every spot.
Paloma watches him, her heart warming at his careful attention. The water cascades down her clothes, revealing glimpses of her soft curves beneath the mess.
When he’s done, she takes the hose from him with a mischievous grin. “Mi turno.”
As she works, she decides to be bold by reaching out to touch him. Her fingers brush against his skin and Javier’s throat bobs, meeting her eyes with a wary look then glancing over her shoulder to make sure Romeo wasn’t watching them from the house.
“Thin. Ice.” He repeats.
“Live a little,” she counters with a playful lilt.
She leans in closer, her wet body brushing against his as she continues to rinse. The proximity feels like a charged exchange of impulsiveness since they both can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, even with the looming threat of her father’s presence just inside.
When she finishes, Paloma sets the hose down, her fingers lingering longer than necessary, his shirt clinging to his torso, accentuating the lines of his muscles, luring her in.
She looks up at him. “All clean.”
“You want him to kill me.”
“No, this is just fun… ‘n I love seein’ you squirm like a lil worm.”
He licks across the bottom row of his teeth, “You keep fuckin’ around like this, nena, and I’ll have no choice but to put you in your place.” She wants him to squirm, fine, but he’ll make sure to return that energy tenth fold.
“That a promise?”
“You really want to see how far you can push me, huh?”
“Un poco.” She pinches her thumb and pointer finger together, mocking him and he scoffs.
“Gettin’ in over your head babygirl. Now’s not the time to do this, not when I can’t bend you over and fuck you stupid. Then you wouldn’t have a choice but to shut up and be compliant.”
Oh fuck, his words go straight to her pussy and her heart skips a beat. “Who says you can’t do that?”
Javier groans. Nope, not doing this right now. “You’re baiting me like a fuckin’ fish and I’m not gettin’ hooked. Inside. Go.”
She smirks like she’s just won the fucking lottery, stomping back towards the house with her chin held high.
If anyone is in over their heads here it’s him, accepting Romeo’s invitation to stay knowing Paloma is his greatest temptation.
The rest of the afternoon unfolds with a sense of normalcy, despite the tempest raging outside. The sky has grown dark, pierced by occasional flashes of lightning that illuminate the living room. Thunder rumbles intermittently, its low growl resonating through the house, while the wind howls and the rain pelts against the windows, creating a rhythmic drumming sound that is soothing yet insistent.
Inside, the atmosphere is comforting. After showering off their mess from the mud, they settle into the warmth of the house.
Paloma busies herself in the kitchen, preparing an early dinner just in case the power goes out.
They used to have a back up generator, but it crapped out on them last year and her father, ever the forgetful one, never got around to replacing it.
Javier and Romeo are engrossed in a tense card game at the dining table, their competitive banter punctuated by the clinking of chips and the shuffling of cards.
They sneak glances at each other every so often, their eyes conveying what they can’t say aloud.
Lingering touches become their secret language—his fingers brushing her arm when he scoots past her to grab another beer from the fridge, her body pressing subtly against his as she reaches over to grab something from the table.
If there was ever a time to show restraint, it’s now. She treats this as a game, trying to get him to break in front of her father, to force him into a confrontation.
Her eyes sparkle with mischief, daring him to give in. He meets her gaze with a steady determination, silently promising that he won’t let her win so easily.
Eventually the three of them migrate to the living room. Romeo, having suggested an old movie to pass the time, is sprawled out on the couch, his snores becoming a steady background noise.
The movie plays on the screen, its dialogue a distant murmur amidst the storm. It’s a miracle the power hasn’t gone out yet.
Paloma uses this brief respite to seize a moment alone with Javier.
Quietly beckoning him down the hall, she leads him to the family dining room where a grand piano sits in the corner. It was a gift from the church, given to her on her tenth birthday.
After flicking on the lamp, she settles onto the bench, her fingers poised above the keys with a delicate grace.
She begins to play, her touch tentative at first, then gradually more confident as the familiar notes fill the room.
Javier leans against the door frame, mesmerized by the scene before him. He watches her intently, captivated by the subtle expressions that flit across her face as she listens to each note, her eyes closed in concentration.
He breaks the spell with a gentle question, “How long have you been playing?”
She glances over at him, her expression wistful. “Ever since I could, really. Momma wasted no time in teachin’ me.” Her voice carries a touch of nostalgia, a subtle sadness that she hopes goes unnoticed.
She’s relieved when Javier doesn’t press further. Instead, he simply nods, his understanding evident in his gaze.
“Come sit,” Paloma invites, her voice honeyed like it always is. She shifts slightly on the bench, patting the empty space beside her.
Javier moves to join her, their shoulders brushing. He’s too damn broad to be sitting on this small ass seat.
He does feels a flutter of excitement at hearing her like this. It’s different from her shows at the bar, more intimate and personal, reminding him of that time in the shed when he was fixing her car and she played her guitar.
The memory of her song about Nina, which she hasn’t brought up since that day, lingers in his mind.
“It ain’t anythin’ new, just an old song I wrote after George,” she begins, and a small, sad smile touches her lips. He wants to kiss it away. “It’s my favorite to play on the piano. You can really feel the heartbreak.”
“Your heartbreak?” he asks, the question slipping out before he can catch it. He bites the inside of his lip, worried that he’s overstepped somehow.
“Mhm,” she doesn’t mind, opening the folder that rests against the music desk and pulling out her short-hand sheet music. “Took me so long to finish it. I was stuck on this bench for what felt like an eternity before I got it done.”
He doesn’t know what to say and she doesn’t expect him to be necessarily chatty. They’re taking turns showing their vulnerability, sharing a little at a time at a pace that seems to be benefiting them both and their relationship.
The room is filled with the soft, melodic strains of the piano as she starts again, blending with the patter of rain and rumbling of the thunder. Her voice joins shortly after, and the entire time Javier can’t keep his eyes off her.
Beneath the warmth of his admiration, Paloma feels oh so exposed. She’s never played this for anyone before, and the only reason she’s doing it now is because she wants him to understand why it’s so important to her that he doesn’t love her in secret. That he doesn’t string her along.
She’s already been through that heartbreak before, and it left her with this nasty, harrowing feeling that didn’t go away for years. Now, considering everything they’ve been through, she knows she won’t be able to recover if things go awry again.
And he listens—Javi listens to each word that falls from her lips, her voice soft to compliment their surroundings.
She’s got real talent; he’s known that from the dozens of times he’s been at her shows, hell it was evident at the fair. But here, with just her voice and the piano, weaving a story that is both haunting and beautiful; she’s opened herself up to him, letting him glimpse her pain.
She doesn’t do it in a verbal confrontation; she does it in her own way, and the message comes across just the same.
Sure, Javier might not be good with words, but he doesn’t need them to let her in. He just needs to lower his guard and not hide from her or any of his past grievances.
He’s never met anyone who makes him self-reflect as much as she does.
As the final notes fade into the quiet, the sounds of the weather seamlessly take their place. Paloma’s fingers linger on the keys as she turns to look at him, “What’d ya think?”
Javier reaches out, stroking her cheek affectionately. “Increíble, cariño. Can’t imagine how hard it was for you to go through that.” he replies, words laden with sincerity.
A small yet genuine smile paints itself on her face and she shrugs lightly, “It was tough, but I’m a tough girl. Got through it eventually…” she trails off, attention flickering to the keys before meeting his brown eyes again, “And I know I’m bein’ kinda anal about you tellin’ my daddy ‘n stuff but there’s reasonin’ behind it. I wanted you to know that reason. You make me feel all these...things. Things I’ve felt before. Things I’ve lost. I don’t want that to happen again.”
“And it won’t.” He reassures her, tone hushed as to not wake her father.
The lights flicker suddenly and they both look towards the lamp before he’s getting her to look at him again.
“Paloma, those things you feel. I feel them too and I don’t want to fuck ‘em up either. Te quiero a ti (I want you), mi corazón, te necesito (I need you). Like fuckin’ air. It’s ridiculous how spun you’ve got me.”
Paloma’s heart swells at his words, the rawness of them, and she doesn’t give a fuck if her dad was to walk in in this very moment; she lurches forward to kiss him, holding his jaw tenderly.
The power finally gives out, accompanied with a deafening crash of lightning, plunging the room into darkness. The storm outside intensifies, its ferocity underscored by the unrelenting roar of thunder.
They pull back abruptly, but he’s still close enough to brush his nose against the soft skin of her cheek. He needs her so bad.
Paloma’s eyes flutter close at the feel of his warm breath caressing her, a polarizing energy drawing them together and she almost crawls onto his lap.
She hears her father’s voice calling for her and she wishes she hadn’t. Wishes he wasn’t around at all so she could take Javier right here on the fucking piano.
She moves off the bench, flustered completely, shouting down the hall, “We’re gettin’ the lanterns outta the closet to set ‘em up.”
Javier clears his throat, following her down the shadowy hallway until they’re at the closet, watching her rummage through it.
The dim light from the lightning intermittently illuminates her figure, making her movements more sensual than they should be.
When his vision becomes clouded by lust, it’s hard for him to focus on anything that isn’t his subject of affection. That currently being her.
His gaze lingers on her bent over figure, her leggings hugging her curves just right, shirt riding up to expose a slither of skin at her lower back. “No candles?”
“Not safe in a storm like this,” she replies, pulling out a taped up cardboard box. “Don’t want the house goin’ up in flames if the gas lines get hit.”
Turning to look over her shoulder, she smirks when she sees that he’s distracted. “Hey handsome, my eyes are up here.”
“And while your eyes are definitely worth admiring, I’m more intrigued by this ass you got, baby.” He can’t help but deliver a slight spank.
A flush creeps up her cheeks and she gasps his name softly, “Just go put these out by the kitchen and living room, please.”
“Si, jefa.” His grin widens, clearly enjoying her reaction, as he takes the box and heads toward the main rooms, leaving her to handle upstairs.
When Paloma rejoins them in the kitchen, she finds Javier and her father standing by the window, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of the lanterns. They peer out into the storm, watching the rain lash against the windowpane.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these,” she comments.
Romeo, with a small scowl, shakes his head. “Leave it to everyone in town to think this is the work of the devil.”
She snorts at the remark, recognizing the truth in it. A weather anomaly in their small town is enough to stir up wild tales and superstitions. That atop of all the rising tensions and well…
“Yeah, one odd storm, and it’s suddenly the apocalypse,” Javier quips.
She moves to set the table. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to have dinner. In case the end times really are amongst us.”
They sit around the table, their conversation punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder. As they finish their meal and clean up, her father clears his throat and stretches, glancing out at the downpour with a tired sigh. “I’m turnin’ in for the night,” he announces.
Paloma and Javier exchange glances, her drying off plates next to her dad and him leaning against the kitchen island, trying not to show how eager they are to be left alone.
“Me too. Probably gonna read a bit before bed. Javier, we’ve set up my old playroom for you to stay in.” His lips twitch at the use of his full first name, and he looks at them both, rubbing his lips together.
“I appreciate you letting me bunker down here.”
“Not a problem. Wouldn’t be surprised if we saw your tin can blowin’ across the yard.” Romeo jokes, drying his hands off then leaning over to pinch at his daughter’s nose affectionately, like he always does. She scrunches her face up in response.
“Night y’all. Javier help yourself to anything.”
He bites back a smirk, the first response to cross his mind being like your daughter? Like the smug bastard that he is. Instead, he gives him a curt nod. “Thank you, goodnight.”
“Night daddy.”
There’s a charged silence as Romeo saunters down the hall, and it’s not until they hear his bedroom door click close that he rounds the counter and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.
“Help myself to anything I want. Hm…” he whispers hotly into her ear, one hand moving up to grope her breast, the other toying with the band of her leggings.
She exhales shakily, letting her head fall back against his shoulder and closing her eyes as she enjoys his touch on her body, the way she can feel his erection poking against her ass. “What happened to you not gettin’ hooked?”
He sees the small smirk on her face and he squeezes his grip on her tit, nibbling along her neck. She shudders.
“Shut up.”
Javier spins her around, caging her between him and the counter, dark eyes boring into hers. He goes in for a proper kiss but she stops him, pointer finger pressing against his pursed lips.
He growls her name out and it’s almost drowned out by the wave of thunder that rolls by.
“Meet me in my room in an hour.” She whispers, dropping her hand and spreading her palm against the center of his chest, pushing him back so she’s able to slip away from him.
“Always a tease,” he grumbles, adjusting himself in his sweatpants.
“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Paloma walks backwards, blowing him a kiss before disappearing upstairs.
Javier stands on the other side of her door, exactly an hour later as instructed. He rasps his knuckles softly against the wood, and the door opens immediately.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
They share a moment of silence, exchanging a lustful stare before she opens the door wider for him to come in.
“This is a bad idea, bebita. Your dad is just downstairs.” Though the statement dies on his tongue as his eyes rake over her body.
She’s wearing his red checkered flannel, the one he had let her wear the night of the Fourth of July. She hasn’t got anything on under it aside from the only thong she owns, since she isn’t privy to them.
Usually, she would just forgo underwear altogether instead of wearing the uncomfortable scrap of fabric.
But it’s serving its purpose right now.
The flannel doesn’t smell like him anymore since she’d washed it, but she still liked how soft it felt against her skin.
Plus, she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist once he saw her in it.
“Then we’ll have to be quiet.” Her voice drops to a whisper, walking him back until he’s sat at the edge of her bed, Paloma standing between his spread legs and her hands cupping his face.
He swallows hard, his large hands automatically finding her hips, sliding under the flannel to feel the warmth of her skin. “You look incredible.”
Paloma leans in, her lips ghosting over his. “I wore it just for you.”
Javier’s heart races as he feels the heat emanating from her body. He gently tugs her closer, exploring the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her hips, then grabbing her ass. “You’re killing me, princesa.”
She loves hearing that coming from him.
“You gonna be able to stay quiet? Last time we had to be, I had to shut you up myself.” His touch shifts to the back of her thighs, fingers caressing the soft skin there, eyes focused on her and how she reacts to him.
Two lanterns bathe her room in warm light, casting a glow that aids her in her quest to seduce him.
“I think I can manage this time.” She ducks her head to kiss him, not hungrily or passionately, but slowly, savoring the taste of mint that lingers on his tongue.
His lips travel from her mouth to her jawline, and down the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Javi?”
“¿Si, muñeca?”
“I need your help with something.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“Need you to talk me through sucking your dick.”
He pulls back abruptly, blinking rapidly as he processes her words. “What?”
“Don’t make me repeat it,” she juts her lower lip out, “I’ve… well I’ve never done it before and I really, really really want to do it with you.” She sounds desperate but she doesn’t care.
Paloma’s been fantasizing about it for a while now, the desire to do it only growing the more intimate they got. Her mind has been filled with images of him, his reactions, and the way he might look at her with that smoldering gaze of his.
The thought of pleasing him, of having his taste and scent overwhelm her, has her buzzing with a heady mix of excitement and nervousness.
“I’m having a hard time believing that. You’ve got perfect fuckin’ lips,” soft, plump, just begging to have a cock between them.
She giggles, feeling his fingers toying with the thin strap of her thong. “Thank you. I’d like to put ‘em to use if you don’t mind.”
He blows out a breath, trying to keep his composure. “How inexperienced are we talking here?” Javier’s cock is already twitching, knowing that no one has breached this part of her and that he’s the one who gets to do it is making him delirious.
“I know what it is. Given a hand job before but never had one down my throat,” she admits, her cheeks flushed.
He grunts at her wording. “I’ve seen a few dirty flicks where the girl’s done it. I think m’capable, but I wanna know what you like. How you want me to take it.”
“You can’t say things like that and expect me to keep my shit together.”
Another giggle escapes her lips as she slowly moves to her knees, the plush rug cushioning her descent. Her dainty hands come to rest on his muscular thighs, fingers gently kneading the fabric of his gray sweatpants.
He looks irresistibly sexy in his casual attire, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants that do nothing to hide the raw masculinity that has her already dripping wet, eagerly awaiting his instructions.
The look she gives him—those eyes, brimming with lust—makes him wish he had a video camera to capture this moment.
He wants to immortalize the way her lips part slightly, how her breath quickens, the way her hands tremble with enthusiasm.
He wants to be able to replay it over and over again, to remember how she looks up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze filled with an intensity that sends a jolt of arousal straight to his cock.
“Unbutton the shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits of yours, sweetheart.”
Her thighs clench, fingers flying to the buttons of the flannel, deftly popping them open to reveal her chest, a shiver skipping over her exposed skin and perking her nipples.
Javier’s eyes darken with hunger as he licks his lips slowly, savoring the sight before him.
He brings his hand up, cupping her left breast, his thumb brushing over her skin in teasing strokes. His calloused touch sends a ripple of pleasure through her, responding with ragged breaths.
Just as she starts to lean into his hand, he pulls away, leaving her yearning for more.
“Now touch me, princesa. Feel how hard you got me.”
This is how she dies, she thinks, with Javier Peña talking her through her first blowjob. Their little erotic phone call had been one experience, and now he is bestowing another one upon her. In the same week.
Maybe she’s already dead.
Her palm glides up and down his length, tracing the hardening outline over the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The sight of her full tits and pebbled nipples enough to get him fully hard.
Paloma leans in, gently lifting the hem of his tee out of the way. She places a delicate kiss just above his waistband, her lips brushing against the warm skin of his lower abdomen and her nose scrunching as the dark trail of hair tickles her.
Her hand continues its rhythmic motion, eliciting a slow, deep exhale from him— unspoken encouragement to keep going.
“So big,” she murmurs, “don’t know how I’m goin’ to fit it all in my mouth.” Her tongue darts out, teasingly licking around his belly button, causing his stomach to tighten in anticipation.
“Don’t worry, muñeca,” he coos, “We’ll make it fit.”
With starry eyes, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of his bottoms, slowly dragging them down. He lifts his hips to help her, the fabric sliding off and pooling around his ankles.
His cock springs free, resting heavily against his pelvis.
Her eyes widen, mouth watering.
She’s felt his impressive size, but seeing it so closely in the flesh sends thudding pressure to her clit, blood rushing with a desperate need to please him.
He’s thick and perfectly sized with an enticing curve that has her tongue moving involuntarily in her mouth. The skin is a shade lighter than the rest of him, currently flushed a deep, heated red, the smooth head throbbing and glistening with precum dripping from the slit.
“Damn, Javi,” she purrs, a content hum vibrating through her chest. “Every part of you is handsome.” It makes her heart race, and she can feel heat licking at her labia, eager to show him just how much she aches for him.
He exhales through his nose, stroking her hair and gently urging her forward. “Give it a kiss, bebita.”
“Where?”
“Donde tú quieras.”
She sucks her teeth, contemplating how she wants to do this. The soft lighting of the room and the flashes of silver from the lightning outside accentuate every ridge and curve of his cock—making it look so yummy.
Javi can feel her warm breath fanning over him, then the blissful wetness of her plump lips as she presses them against the blazing skin of his base. Her tongue follows, tracing the path of a thick vein with deliberate slowness.
He curses under his breath, biting down on his tongue to stifle any involuntary noises, but fuck, it feels good.
Her tongue traces the protruding vein all the way to the top, circling around the head, mimicking what she’s seen in the pornos. More precum leaks from his slit, and she laps at it thirstily, welcoming the peculiar flavor. The salty tang mingles with the taste of his skin, driving her fucking crazy.
“It doesn’t look like I have to teach you much, chiquita, you’re doing an amazing fuckin’ job so far.” Javier praises, continuing to stroke her hair with a satisfied, wolfish grin playing at his lips.
“Really?” She seeks his approval like a drowning woman seeking air.
“Of course. Always so good for me.” His dark eyes gleam with ardor, “Now get it wet, baby, so it can slip in your mouth easily.”
Obedient as ever and fueled by his praise, her tongue moves with sinful precision, eyes fluttering close as she focuses on licking every inch, using her lips to press open mouthed kisses all over.
More saliva gathers in her mouth, and she deliberately lets a thick, glistening strand fall from her lips, dribbling over the sensitive tip and trailing slowly down the full length of him.
Paloma’s hand comes up, fingers wrapping around his dick with a teasing grip. Her movements are slow, pumping him gently.
“Your nails look so sexy wrapped around my cock like this baby holy fuck,” Javier can’t help but compliment as she squeezes him, clenching his jaw. “That’s right, así mero princesa, shit.” He grunts, the hand that had been tenderly stroking her hair now tangles into her long, silken strands, fingers gripping and gently tugging, a primal response to her actions.
He mentioned a long time ago how much he loved it when a woman had a fresh manicure, and Paloma, ever wanting to get his attention, has not missed a single appointment with her manicurist since.
“Got ‘em done just for you,” she coos, winking up at him and leaning forward to purse her lips, slapping his fat head against them.
“Gettin’ yourself all done up for me? Mi muñequita so eager to please. Go ahead and put me in your mouth. Wanna see those pretty lips around my cock.”
She can feel her slick dampening her panties, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good. Show up any other woman he’s ever taken to bed.
Holding him steady at the base, she parts her lips and slowly envelops his cock in her hot mouth.
The heavy, pulsing weight of him pressing down on her tongue amplifies her craving for more. His slick, warm flesh, generously coated in her spit, has him sliding effortlessly into her mouth.
Javier brings his fist up to bite into it, letting out a choked groan.
The weather continues its tyranny outdoors and he’s fucking grateful that it’s loud enough to cover the sounds of pleasure she’s pulling from him. “Take it slow, baby, open your jaw a little more.”
She listens, lowering her chin and taking him deeper into her mouth. The blunt tip grazes the back of her throat, causing her to gag and she pulls back, struggling to catch her breath.
The feeling is overwhelming, yet exhilarating.
“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks in a low, gravelly murmur, eyelids heavy as he watches her.
The fingers previously tangled in her hair now brush away the few stray strands that have fallen forward behind her ear.
She responds with a breathy hum of affirmation, determined to push him further down her throat. But her eagerness causes her to overestimate her capacity, resulting in a sputtering mess as she chokes and coughs, droplets of her saliva splattering over him.
“Baby, it’s okay,” he soothes, his thumb gently swiping at the spit on her lower lip. “Take it easy. S’not a race.” The tender gesture only heightens her arousal.
“I jus’ wanna make you feel good, Javi,” she replies, voice hoarse from the strain of her attempt at deep throating.
“Trust me, you’re doing just fine. Here, let me help.” His hand moves to the nape of her neck, carefully guiding her closer.
He slowly breaches her mouth with his cock again, slipping in and out in a gentle rhythm. He helps her find a steady pace, his care and control transforming the act into more of an intimate experience.
“Atta girl, just like that. Tan hermosa,” he murmurs, admiring the view of her flushed face. “Think you can handle it all on your own now?”
She responds with a soft nod, the subtle move has her teeth just barely grazing his throbbing cock and it makes him shudder, jaw going slack.
More confident and her jaw worked open more, Paloma hollows her cheeks and blows him with keenness.
Her hands join in, one cradling his balls while the other wraps around his dick, stroking him in time with her mouth.
She looks up at him through her wet lashes, a loving glint twinkling in her eyes.
Javier curses under his breath, head lolling back and eyes fluttering close as her mouth and tongue work together to tread the fine fucking line of his orgasm.
She takes him deeper, her swollen lips stretching around his cock while her jaw aches from accommodating him.
He gathers her hair into a loose ponytail with his fist, hips starting to move in tandem with her mouth. “Just like that, palomita.”
She’s got the hang of it now, able to take him all in, nose brushing against the tuft of hair at his base that’s damp with the saliva from her ministrations.
The storm rages outside, but here, in this moment, all he can focus on is the exquisite torment of her mouth tightening the coil at the base of his spine.
Paloma stills, swallowing around his length and he praises her in a hushed whisper.
Javi gently strokes her cheek with his fingertips, his touch tender and reassuring, the contrast of his soft caress with the way she’s got him down her throat making her heart do jumping jacks.
She struggles to breathe but she doesn’t really give a fuck. The intense thrill of his reactions has her losing herself completely, thighs tensing together.
Her thong, now drenched with her own excited mess, sticks to her pussy; reminding her of how hot and bothered she is from just blowing him.
Between her tight throat, swirling tongue, and pretty gags, Javier has to pull her off of him before he spills his load down her throat.
Gasping for air, her eyes are glazed with tears of both pleasure and strain.
She looks up at him again with an expression so intoxicating—he nearly paints her face at the sight.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nada, cariño. I’d just like to fuck your pussy and not come down your throat tonight.” Some other time, for sure.
“I take it as I did a good job?”
“Best I’ve ever had.”
Paloma’s lips curl into a triumphant smirk, brown eyes glowing with satisfaction at his praise. She licks her lips, savoring the lingering taste of him as she leans in, pressing a final kiss on the sensitive tip of his cock with the electrifying touch of her lips.
Slowly, she rises from her knees, her movements fluid and deliberately sensual. She trails heated, open-mouthed kisses up his torso, each touch igniting a feverish path on his skin.
As she moves, she pulls his shirt up along with her, her soft breasts brushing against his firm stomach.
He reacts quickly, shedding the shirt and tossing it aside.
Their lips finally meet in a fervent kiss. It’s messy and passionate—they’re drunk off each other.
“How do you want me?” Paloma asks in a sultry whisper.
“Face down, ass up,” he grunts, pushing the flannel off her shoulders, eager to feel more of her bare skin beneath his touch.
She positions herself on the bed, her face nuzzling against the soft mountain of pillows, arms stretched out in front of her.
The recently fixed headboard offers a silent promise; no noise will give them away, and they won’t have to worry about getting caught.
That’s the last thing they need.
Whether they’re able to keep quiet themselves is an entirely different thing.
Javier, now fully nude, strokes his cock slowly, savoring the sight before him. Her plump ass is on full display, tantalizingly framed by the thin, barely-there panties.
He grunts with satisfaction, his gaze hungrily devouring the view of her pretty pussy, ready for him to take.
As he closes the distance between them, he kneads her ass cheeks firmly, the smoothness of her skin and the way she molds to his touch triggering a searing lust in him.
Every fantasy he’d ever had about her in this position is now a vivid, thrilling reality. He’s intent on taking full advantage of this, to make her his in every sense.
“Don’t know if I can trust you to stay quiet,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls down her underwear, a string of her slick sticking to it, making the sight so fucking erotic.
Paloma can’t help but sway her hips, enticing him further, as she lays bare on the mattress. “I will be, honey, I promise.” She turns her head to try and get a better look at him, cheek resting on the cushion.
“Can’t take that risk. Not tonight.” The bed dips when he positions himself behind her, and his broad frame bends over hers, chest to her back, wet cock brushing up against the skin of her ass. “Abre,” he commands lowly into her ear and she whimpers, parting her lips.
Her eyes go wide with surprise and her pulsating sex drools when he shoves her damp, ruined panties into her mouth. The fabric is cool against her tongue, tinged with her own tangy scent, and she can taste the remnants of her arousal.
Her moan is swallowed by the material, muffled and contained, amplifying the sensation of helpless pleasure that floods her senses.
“Calladita te ves más bonita (you look prettier with your mouth shut),” he taunts, placing a kiss to her cheek, bristling mustache dragging at her shoulder, until he straightens up and takes his cock into his hand again, slowly rubbing it along her slit and spreading their mess all over her cunt.
Paloma clenches around nothing in anticipation, arching her back and spreading her knees a little more to give him the perfect angle to rut into her.
He sinks into her pussy slowly, growling expletives under his breath at how fucking amazing she feels positioned like this. Her tight, wet heat wrapping around him as he splits her open on his girth. “Sucking me in so well, amor, just like that fucking mouth of yours.”
Every sound of ecstasy gets lost on the now wet cloth as drool pools from her lips, brain absolutely melting once he’s balls deep inside of her, the weight of them pressed up against her clit.
All she can think and feel is him. He doesn’t give her a moment to adjust, pulling out until only his fat head is inside before roughly snapping his hips against hers.
The pace he sets is deliciously brutal, tears sting at her eyes as he presses up against that spot inside her that makes more juices drip out of her pussy and slather all over his dick.
Javier is completely entranced, watching as her cunt stretches open for him each time he rolls his hips, spitting his cock out, covered in her creamy arousal.
He spreads her cheeks to get the best view possible, biting his lip harshly and digging his fingertips into her skin.
The thunderstorm doesn’t let up, perfectly masking the filthy sounds of their fucking. “Feels fucking amazing baby, shit, can feel you clenching around me. Love being gagged, don’t you?” He can’t help himself, moving his hands so one hand tangles itself in her long hair, pulling at it so she’s on all fours now while the other grabs onto her hip.
Like a doll, she lets him move her however the hell he wants. Her arms tremble as she holds herself up, her scalp burning from his firm grip, each tug cascading waves of blissful electricity all over, starting at her toes.
Sex with Javier is unlike anything she’s ever experienced—raw, fiery, and profoundly exhilarating.
As he moves, her body dances to his rhythm, each motion perfectly synchronized with his. The soft flesh of her ass jiggles enticingly with each thrust, the twin dimples at the base of her spine deepening and winking at him.
Beads of sweat glisten on her golden skin, trailing seductively down the arch of her spine. He leans closer, his tongue darting out to lap at a single drop of perspiration, savoring the salty sweetness.
Paloma keens, bringing one hand back to dig her nails into his wrist as he fucks her like those stars in the dirty flicks.
Javier moves quickly, pinning both of her wrists at the base of her spine, her face falling flat on the pillows and further making it hard for her to breathe. She loves it, loves the way he’s manhandling her.
His balls tighten, as does the grip on her wrists.
He’s right at the edge of his precipice. But he can’t let go just yet—not without getting her off first. “So proud of you for taking this cock so well, muñeca. C’mon, baby, come all over it. I can feel how close you are. She’s grippin’ me so tight. Doesn’t want me to leave.”
Paloma squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating on the relentless way he fucks into her. Her walls convulse around his shaft, each stroke lighting up every nerve in her body.
He’s filling her to the brim, burying every bit of his soul and essence into her pussy.
It’s a raw and intimate exchange, a way he opens up and surrenders himself to her.
She sings, he fucks. He’s finding a healthier way to fuck his feelings into his woman without the devastating angst.
Unlike before, where passion was tangled with pain and regret, he now seeks a more fulfilling release.
Javier finds solace in their sex.
A stark white flash of lightning illuminates the room, casting fleeting shadows over their intertwined bodies, followed by the familiar, rolling rumble of thunder. The storm outside mirrors the tempestuous passion in her bedroom.
Thank-fucking-God her daddy was a heavy sleeper.
He yanks her up, pressing his chest flush against her back and trapping her wrists between them, the heat of their bodies melding them together.
One arm snakes around to grab her bouncing tit, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, while his other slips down to her clit, alternating between softly pinching and rubbing circles against the sticky, sensitive flesh.
“When I pull the panties out your mouth, I want you to moan my name. You understand?” he whispers hotly into her ear. At first, she’s too lost in the pleasure he’s bringing her to fully grasp his words, mind clouded with nothing but Javier Peña.
He delivers a particularly harsh thrust, making her gasp and snapping her eyes open––bringing her back to the present.
Repeating himself in a throaty and commanding voice, she nods faintly, understanding now, her body quivering.
After a few more intensely euphoric moments, another strike splits the sky. Javier hastily removes the gag from her mouth, his fingers brushing her lips. “Give it to me, Paloma,” He grits through his teeth.
And she does. The crack of the lightning and the storm’s thunder roar loudly, shaking the house, her primal cry of bliss drowned out by the heavy noise.
“Javi!” her jaw falls open, walls contracting tightly around his dick, milking him as her climax crashes into her.
The sensation is so much, she nearly blacks out, her vision swimming in a haze of pleasure. Paloma’s body tenses, and that’s all it takes for him to follow suit.
Javier tightens his grip on her, his fingers pulling at her nipple as his own orgasm hits.
His cock twitches, releasing his hot seed deep inside her, filling her up completely. He grunts against her neck, his breath ragged, teeth finding and sinking into her damp skin.
He kisses her sloppily, leaving a trail of wetness from his tongue as he marks her, claiming her in their shared moment of fucking paradise.
They stay like that for a few moments, bodies entwined, hearts pounding in sync, as they come down from their respective highs.
“M’never, ever, ever gonna get tired of that,” she pants out with a satisfied grin, tilting her head to pepper kisses along the side of his head as his lips continue to press against her neck.
“You and me both, princesa.” Their lips meet in a lazy kiss, both of them smiling into it. His hold on her loosens, now cradling her affectionately, and she melts into his embrace.
“Lay with me, Javi, please?” she whispers, running the tip of her nose along his cheek, giggling softly as his mustache tickles her skin.
He nods, momentarily forgetting where they were and the implications of what would unravel if the man downstairs decided to come up and check on them. “Okay.”
They untangle and she isn’t bothered by the way their mixed release seeps out of her, smearing all over her folds. She’ll shower it off in the morning.
They move beneath the sheets of her bed, settling against her pillows and the many stuffed animals she owns. “Damn, how many of these shits do you have?” Javier asks, holding a tattered bunny in his hand that she takes from him and tenderly caresses.
“Hey, don’t be rude. Mr. Bubbles was my very first best friend and a very important member of the family.”
Javier snorts, and she shoots him a playful glare, carefully placing her beloved plush on her bedside table. He shuffles as she leans against the headboard, his head resting on her stomach while her fingers play in his hair.
The rhythmic pattering of the rain is comforting now, the warm lights in her bedroom embracing this moment with a soft glow.
It’s quiet for a few moments, his lips placing tender kisses all over her soft skin. When he reaches the scar on her hip, he can’t help but bring his curious fingers up to gently trace it, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue.
“How’d you get this?”
Paloma takes a deep breath, her fingers still entertaining themselves in his curls. “I got it when I was thirteen,” she begins softly, “I used to love climbin’ this big tree we had in our backyard. I’d always go as high as I could, ‘n once I reached the top, I swore I could see the whole world from up there. It was beautiful, you know? The view, the feelin’ of being so free and above everythin’.”
She pauses, a small smile tugging at her lips as she remembers the exhilaration of those childhood climbs. “But one day, I saw somethin’ out in the distance—a shadowed figure. It made me feel… uneasy. I’d dreamt of somethin’ like it before, so seein’ it in person… it instilled this fear into me. Felt like a bad omen.”
Paloma shivers slightly at the recollection, and Javier’s hold tightens around her in silent support. “Somehow, I lost my footin’. Slipped off the branch and tumbled down the tree. The fall was chaotic as hell. One of the sharp branches nicked me and cut up my side. It was real deep, felt like I was gonna die.”
It was a miracle she didn’t break a bone or snap her neck. “I smacked the ground hard, it knocked the wind right outta me. I remember jus’ layin’ there, unable to breathe, and seein’ the blood. It was everywhere. The pain was so intense, and it took almost ten minutes of pure agony ‘fore I could use my lungs again. I started screamin’ like a banshee and my parents rushed out, absolutely frantic.”
The tip of his nose grazes the mark, his lips following suit, showering it with tender kisses. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as her fingertips gently scratch at his scalp.
“They rushed me into town to see Dr. Hughes. She stitched me up and told me I was lucky it wasn’t worse. Daddy and a few of his lumberjack buddies cut the tree down the next day. I was so sad.”
“Bet you didn’t climb more trees after that.” He smirks up at her and she snorts softly.
“I did, I was jus’ more careful.”
Javier’s affections trail upward from her stomach to her sternum, then to her neck, and she sighs happily.
The feel of his body between her legs, flaccid cock pressed up against her sore pussy, cradled in her arms, is a high she’s going to spend the rest of her life chasing.
They kiss and kiss until her lips are blue and his lungs beg for oxygen, exchanging tender touches.
His hand finds its familiar place around her neck but doesn’t apply any real pressure, thumb gently brushing against the column of her throat.
She revels in the feel of him.
Her dainty hands roam over his muscular back, broad shoulders, and toned triceps, exploring every inch they can reach. Each touch feels like a declaration of their mutual addiction.
The way they fit together, both physically and emotionally, is intoxicating.
She can feel his love in every movement, every kiss, and every gentle brush of his thumb.
This is their sanctuary, a moment where they can express their deepest emotions without fear.
“I could stay here all night.”
“Why limit yourself to all night? Why not forever?”
He groans out in satisfaction, nipping at her chin, needing his lips on some part of her at all times.
“As much as I’d love to pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I have to go back across the hall.”
“You don’t have to do anythin’. Said it was a bad idea to mess ‘round while my daddy’s downstairs but that didn’t stop you from fuckin’ me.”
She can’t even take the expression he flashes her seriously, not with his hair sticking up in odd places and that fucked out glaze over his brown eyes.
“Just leave early in the morning. Or at least wait until I fall asleep.” And out of spite, she’s tempted to stay up all night just to keep him in her bed.
“Fine. Until you fall asleep.” He kisses her on the lips, moving from between her legs until he’s settled behind her, scooping her into his arms. Her head rests on his chest, one leg hitched over his, and her palm sprawled against his stomach.
He trails his fingers up and down the length of her spine, the other hand stroking the thigh draped over his hip. He nuzzles his nose against the crown of her hair and inhales deeply.
Her scent is not only an aphrodisiac but also incredibly calming.
She feels the accelerated pounding of his heart and before she can ask what’s wrong, his tongue loosens.
“I had this partner in Colombia. Steve Murphy. The most American American you’ll ever meet.” A small smile forms on his face as he reminisces, “Didn’t speak a lick of Spanish but still managed to help me get shit done. We went through the fuckin’ trenches together down there and I put him through the wringer so many goddamn times. I was such an asshole.”
“Was?” She can’t help but quip, kissing up on his chest. Javier slaps at her thigh.
She can tell he holds fondness for this man and she wonders why he’s just now bringing him up. Regardless, she enjoys hearing about his time in the DEA, despite how dark it can get.
He was a completely different man with baggage she can’t even begin to fathom.
“We found a baby girl in her house one day. Her mother and the rest of her family had been shot up by some of Escobar’s men. They were about to kill her when we showed up.”
The conversation takes a turn, and Paloma lifts her head to meet his gaze, but he looks relatively calm as he goes on with the story.
“We chased those bastards all over the neighborhood. Right as I got the upper hand on one, a kid no older than ten cornered me with a fucking pistol.” Her eyes widen, and she brings her fingers up to touch his cheek.
“‘Course I wasn’t going to shoot a fucking kid. They both ran off. Murphy and his wife, Connie, ended up adopting the girl. Olivia, they named her.”
“Olivia’s a beautiful name.”
“She’s precious.”
The context of his past has jaded such a good man, molding him into a cynic over the years. No wonder he struggles to be vulnerable.
His eyes, though calm, reveal a depth of pain and reflection, the memories of those days etched into his soul.
“I think they’d like you.” He turns his head to kiss her palm, nuzzling against it as she cradles his face.
“Well maybe I’ll get to meet ‘em one day. Your pops, too.”
“Oh I know he’d love you. Just knowing how you tend to the house and yard is gonna have him wanting to steal you from me.” Javier playfully nips at her fingertips, those golden flecks she loves to see in his eyes returning.
“If he’s anything like you, then you’re in trouble, cowboy.”
She’s tickled by the hairs of his mustache and accidentally lets a loud laugh slip, causing him to grip her jaw gently as he shushes her. “Shhh, baby…” His thumb is at her bottom lip, “Gonna get us caught.”
“Tell that to your ‘stache, sir. S’always ticklin’ me.” Paloma bites down on his thumb playfully and he lean in to kiss her for the millionth time.
They indulge in more pillow talk until eventually she’s just humming in response, half asleep, her body going limp against his and her breath leveling out.
Exhaustion tugs at him, the weather lulling him into an almost serene state. Watching her sleep in his arms, her already soft features look even more angelic.
Her long lashes rest delicately against her cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic, reminding him that she’s real and here for him.
Javier doesn’t want to leave even though he knows he must. He doesn’t want to rob himself of this moment—of how, for the first time in a long time, he’s able to cradle something in his hands and not break it.
Her presence is a soothing balm to the wounds of his past, and he wants to savor every second of this newfound peace.
But as he holds her, the rhythmic patter of rain against the window and the rumble of thunder weave a lullaby that’s impossible to resist. His resolve falters and his eyelids grow heavy.
He takes in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed against his, and the feeling of absolute contentment that she brings.
It’s a sensation he convinced himself he wasn’t worthy of experiencing, so having it now fills him with a profound sense of gratitude.
Despite his best efforts to stay awake and to tell himself to get up, he eventually succumbs to the exhaustion, his head resting gently on hers. His arms tighten around her protectively, even in sleep, as if to ensure she remains safe and close.
The storm rages on outside, never letting up despite the tranquil note in which their night ends.
#javier peña smut#javier pena smut#pedro pascal#javier peña fanfic#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fanfic#javier peña x ofc#javier pena x ofc#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fic#javier pena fic
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I think there should bé a fic where anyone from the grid would be third wheeling Landoscar, like, have you seen how these two interact.
So, I lack the ability and the time of f1writingbyme and LestappenForever to make this idea into a proper work like they did for "How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen" (check it out on Ao3 if you haven't already, definitely worth it) BUT BUT BUT, I can tell you how I think most of the grid would react in third wheeling Landoscar!
1) I feel like we should spare Checo, cause honestly this man has had enough as third wheel of Maxiel and Lestappen, I don't wanna give him extra traumas, SO –
2) Logan Sargeant: this one I really feel guilty about. Cause I like the narrative of him and Oscah being besties and still I cry over the sad edits of Logan just left behind. I think Landoscar with Logan has the most space for improvement?? I forgive Oscar even tho he definitely ghosted the poor Logan for the whole honeymoon phase with Lando (it's been almost two years, Osc, get a grip). I have a feeling Logan will speak up at some point and this would shake Oscar a little, so maybe he would be the more aware and more involved third wheel, possibly? They'll end up doing triple video-games championships with Lando and Logan mocking Oscar's gaming skills, mark my words.
3) Carlos Sainz: my man how does it feel to know you've wasted your chance (multiple chances, lets be real) for good? I have mixed ideas about this one, cause I think it would probably being more like Lando struggling to keep them both as close as possible resulting in Oscar being rightfully jealous 👀👀 so the third wheeling situation would be like Lando trying to involve a very annoyed and confused Carlos in their things (safe for work, ofc). I don't really see a way out of it.
4) Daniel Ricciardo: I mention him but I can't really explain cause honestly my idea of Daniel third-wheeling Landoscar is either him babysit them around Australia and bonding with Oscar over weird aussie habits OR OR OR something very NOT SAFE WORK so ( ... )
5) Max Verstappen: I love to think he'll remain an unbothered king, you know? Like he's well aware and a bit upset that his crepes companion invited someone else (beside from Daniel) to their dessert dates and that the two of them acts like lovebirds even without an actual physical contact. He'll probably send SOS texts to Charles and Daniel until a topic of (his) interest comes out and honestly at that point the power of maxplaining will win over pretty much everything and everyone. At the end of the day Landoscar turn out to be the real victims.
6) George Russell: poor thing was originally invited for a golf morning from Carlos (Landoscar were already supposed to attend), but Chili called off last minute so Georgie ended up with just the others two. LET ME TELL YOU he jumped off the golf cart cause he saw Lando placing a hand on Oscar's thigh and feared for his life. It took several minutes for them to notice he was aggressively walking behind. He was also hit by a golf ball because Oscar distracted Lando for a second too long, I guess you can figure out the rest.
7) Special mention to the PR and the McLaren team in general who's main job rn is having them to SIMPLY F O C U S outside the pit for like interviews and debriefings. I can picture Lando losing it after hearing a single compliment like "SO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY", cause ✨babygirl✨ energy hitting here and there, even tho he has tried to be somehow a model for Oscar, at least for what concerns work. Indeed I pity trainers and strategists bc ofc Oscar listens at them, but image them trying to explain a concept to him just for Lando to get there and rephrase it in the dumbest way possible and Oscar going like OHHHHH NOW I GOT IT, COULDN'T YOU EXPLAIN IT THAT WAY?
8) This is mostly a guilty pleasure but do we all agree they torture the entire f1 group chat with their subtle flirting?
IDK if this was what you had in mind but I really REALLY had fun writing it.
So let me know what you think in the comments down below, if you agree or if you want me to make it longer and/or more detailed or just to focus on a specific one in particular?
Again, my dms and box section are open to discussions, requests and any sort of (respectful) thing!
PEACE OUT 🤌🏻❤️
#ask juls#landoscar#landoscar headcanons#headcanon#f1#lando norris x oscar piastri#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#mclaren#formula 1#ln4#op81#logan seargent#carlos sainz#max verstappen#george russell#daniel ricciardo#the grid being the victims#landoscar took thirdweeling to a new level
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do you think george has purposefully written theon as queer? the jokes are funny but fandom tends to oversimplify everything lol
okay i’m gonna be real honest. i don’t really care what george thought, theon IS gay lmao.
i’ve seen this around, for theon specifically a lot but it happens w other characters that get like Shipped As Gay, that the jokes about theon Experiencing Homophobia are homophobic in and of themselves, because you’re laughing at the idea of Theon like, being called a f*g by his father basically, or the idea that being very devoted to a queer reading of a character is somehow not as serious a take, it’s all haha fujo-ing out but it’s like. Well I’m laughing bc Theon’s story is very familiar to me lol. And I don’t think funny posts about Theon being effeminate or being in love with Robb (or Jon or Dagmar or Ramsay or whoever we’re talking about) are inherently jokes, I think it’s a perfectly legitimate reading of Theon to be like “this is a very queer story arc” and I don’t think reading romantic and queer overtures into his story is an oversimplification of his feelings for Robb or his relationship with Balon. Not to be a huge embarassing nerd about this, but I like the Mark Hamill stance here - if I say Theon is gay, HE IS GAY. It’s funny because he’s got a very darkly funny narrative and I love to have a laugh but it’s not a joke to me.
Do I think George wrote Theon intentionally as queer? Man, fuck if I know. I would definitely argue that he’s directly writing something romantic between Stannis and Davos, and he’s definitely saying a lot about Satin & sexuality & gender, but I wouldn’t bet money on him directly thinking the words “theon is gay.” but he’s not like, stupid, he’s just as much a fan of fantasy as he is a writer of it and these close, intimate friendships between men are a very big part of it, I think it’s hard to be as savvy of a writer as he is and not know that writing something like “where was i i should have died with him” might set some hearts aflutter. Nor do I think the parallel of Robb becoming close with two children of enemies in Jeyne Westerling & Theon, and those two loving him but getting roped into their parents’ schemes to betray Robb, is an accidental parallel. homoerotic friendships are very common in historical fiction, in fantasy, and I think it’s likely George was playing that angle when writing this story arc. That’s not quite the same as George conceiving of Theon (or Robb, or Ramsay) as A Bisexual Man but I don’t really care about that difference. What’s on the page is a story I see queerness in, and I think it’s likely to continue. He’s going to keep up this guilt & devotion to Robb’s shade, he’s going to wrestle a lot with his masculinity and his struggle to uphold Westerosi patriarchal norms due to his disabled body & emotional trauma, I think he’s on a collision course with Jon Snow and those two are bound to have a few homoerotic scenes of their own given all their parallels, and Seven willing, he will get to wear something pretty and shiny and get complimented for it at least once (by Asha preferably but I’d take like, anyone).
#i starred f.g bc i got called that in high school and i think it’s mean sue me 🤧🤧#asks#anons#theon greyjoy#sexuality in asoiaf
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I've just gotten back home from work so I'm a little late to the party, however...
LITG SEASON 8: TEMPTING FATE — VOLUME 2: thoughts, concerns and prayers
first of all yesss more hair booooo paywall, fusebox get it together??? (at least they are pretty but again that's the bare minimum)
anyway, here's my girl with her new hair
why do all of the girls' nightwear look like I'm on a strip club and they're asking me if I want something to drink
it's so over for you Theo
honestly she's too good for him anyway
okay kiss challenge!!!! let me snog everyone
I don't want any more of that "peck" crap we want FULL ON SNOGS, TONGUE AND CHAOS
Jin: "Nap, then results?" Hamish would be so proud of him
okay, so you rate me EIGHT just so I feel like I have to pay to have one extra kiss, your game is a dirty as ever Fusebox
date time!!!! going with Jin ❤️
LMAO Jack is kinda funny
so sad to see a baddie doing too much to keep a man in love island 💔 Luna I'm so sorry you didn't deserve it your only crime was being coupled up with the one guy I want
oh. so about the terrace scene...
first of all, super sweet gem scene. it seemed like a super important one for it to be a gem scene though. so idk I'm a bit lost.
Jin is a walking red flag 😭 this boy is soooo gonna flip on me when the next hot girl shows up!! but let's enjoy the ride
and Luna... girl... was it ever that serious?
the award for worst outfit design goes to 👇
and the one for BEST outfit design goes to 👇
like wow wowza mmmhmm yeah! this man is hot hot HOT 🔥🔥🔥
I had to kiss him HE IS SO FINEEEEEEEEEEE
oh, Jack is kinda sweet... if he looked more like Lewie/Alex he would be favourite boy of the season for sureeee
keep the compliments coming, darling
I had to kiss him too. you know, to be polite.
but it was just a peck, tho
okay, NOW JIN!!!
having a spicy conversation with the guy I want to fuck and his currently girl isn't how I planned to spend my afternoon but here we go
"You're adventurous. You're fun to be around. And you'd make every sight even more beautiful", "Okay. Where's the punch line?", "There isn't one :)" OKAY GAG ME WITH THE WRITING
FUNNY BOY WHO'S A HISYORY NERD? OH OKAY!!!! BIG T??? NO IT'S BIG J!!!!!! JIMOTHY!!!
lmao Sophie mixing the boys up she's so me
Claudia is a real one let me tell you that
she's nice, she doesn't force herself upon us, she's polite, she give us all the tea, and she even help us to graft on the boys behind their girls' backs. like, THAT'S MY GIRL
and if Theo doesn't step up she will DEFINITELY be mine
TIME TO PICK MY BOY LET'S GOOOOOOOO
so sad to see Luna go, I really like her :/
lmao???????????
I TAKE BACK EVERY GOOD THING I SAID ABOUT JACK WTFFFF 😭😭😭😭
he was so out of pocket ?? what's your deal man, are you jealous I picked Jin instead of you? we kissed ONCE. be sooooooooo for real rn
okay Sophie you can join your boy in this bullshit he still cheated on you with me when you weren't looking (and he probably would do it again)
no. I won't forgive you?? you were basically calling me a whore back then and now you are SORRY? don't say something you'll regret later that's not cute.
and he's supposed to be serious?
anyway, stressful night over. time to go to bed with my babygirl Jin
BITS BITS BITS BITS
29 gems to go all the way? what is this?
they could've make the scene a little longer but they have gotten way better ever since the writers dropped the word crescendo
MR TYLER WHO ARE YOU?
still not 100% sure if I'm going with Jin or Oakley but I'm leaning towards Jin, I'm not gonna lie 😁 I did some stuff that will fuck me over on movie night if fusebox finally learnt how to code (which they prolly didn't so I guess I'm safe)
I really enjoyed this episode except for the part when Jack and Sophie went full on villain mode but if the narrative made sense all of the time it wouldn't be LITG, right?
anyway, let's see what this Tyler guy is about... see you all next week 🫶
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Lockwood & Co - Books vs. show preferences
First, things about Lockwood & Co that I like better in the books. (Book and show spoilers abound in both these lists.)
The timeline. I'm actually very confused about what the timeline in the show is supposed to be. I could see a somewhat condensed timeline making sense for screen adaptation, but I felt like the show didn't give the characters enough time to know each other as well as they supposedly did.
Which boy drew his rapier first in the Archives. In the show, Lockwood draws his rapier first to defend both Lucy and himself against Kipps' nastiness. In the books, Lockwood draws his rapier in quick defense against Kipps' rapier, having used his words rather than his sword to provoke Kipps. I just like that bit of character portrayal better.
The scene at the Combe Carey well. I think Lockwood's "No, Lucy. That's not the way it's going to be." is such a powerful foreshadowing line about how they help pull each other away from the call of death. And it would have fit so well with some of the other scenes they added for the show.
The Skull's dialogue. Certainly most of his best sarcastic lines are in later books, but they didn't set his character up well to make those remarks. While the tone of the show is a bit different than the books, it seems they could have kept at least a little of his ridiculous nature.
The plan (or lack-thereof) for infiltrating the relic auction. While certainly the trio (plus Flo) are plenty chaotic in this part of the books, they DO have a pretty well-thought-out plan to get into the auction and get the bone glass. They're not just winging it. There are several minor plot holes and/or convenient plot devices in the show that wouldn't have had to happen if they had kept the Winkman auction scene a little closer to the books. And it would have highlighted that these kids actually are smart. (And that Lockwood is actually good a making plans sometimes.)
And now, things I like more about the show adaptation:
George's physical characterization. The books' use of Lucy's voice to disparage George's appearance can be overwhelming to the point of distracting sometimes. I appreciate that the show allowed Lucy and George to have some conflict without it involving making fun of physicality in any way. There's enough of that already in the world. That is literally my least favorite part of the books. (Though at least Lucy does mature a bit over the series in this respect.) [Edited to clarify: I have nothing against George in the books or the way he looks, just the way the others talk about it!]
The expansion of Norrie's role. I think this was a brilliant move to highlight the trauma Lucy experienced and heighten the stakes a bit. And it was also the perfect device for explaining parts of the world in narrative form.
A deeper exploration into mental health and suicidality. The books contain these themes, but I love the way the show brought these characters' experiences of trauma and mental illness more fully into conversation with each other and with the story. It was masterfully done, without romanticizing or preaching or toning down.
Lockwood giving Lucy the diamond necklace before the party. When I first watched this scene in its entirety, I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I am so used to male characters telling the dressed-up scrappy female character how stunningly beautiful she is, and I hate it. I hate the way it shifts the agency and purpose of the woman's appearance. I've said before in other posts how much I appreciate that Lockwood just lets Lucy be in this scene. She doesn't need him to compliment her appearance because her appearance is not for him. And then, of course, the necklace can be more about connection and relationally rather than approval or beauty.
Clues about Lockwood's parents and the nature of the Problem a little earlier. It ties the stories together into one larger mystery a bit sooner and quite effectively, I think.
What about you? What are your favorite changes in the show, and what do you like better in the books?
#lockwood and co#save lockwood and co#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#george karim#george cubbins#save lockwood & co#jonathan stroud#lockwood and co spoilers#lockwood netflix#lockwood and co tv show#lockwood & co books#comparisons#book vs show
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You broke my heart with that shuggy post, you somehow made their “breakup” even worse. Jesus… it’s like everything wanted them to not be together. It actually does align with my thought when I first read 1082 that buggy needs so grew completely apart from shanks, he has to be over him and I wonder if we ever get them together again if that’s the case. Would it be just one sentence and that’s it? Gosh, I’m actually crying rn
aw, i’ve never had the power to make someone cry with my meta before! thank you! (i… hope i’m meant to take this as a compliment?)
it’s a pretty mild form of Doomed By The Narrative, but our introduction to buggy is as “a guy with serious beef against shanks,” so basically yeah, it is like everything wanted them to not be together. the story can’t happen the way we know it does if they’re together, so they can’t be.
or at least, they couldn’t be. the future’s wide open, nobody knows what’s gonna happen there.
i called the 1082 argument a codependent breaking point in that post, but in a way the codependency doesn’t end there so much as change flavors. buggy stopped considering shanks a “Future Pirate King I Will Devote My Life To,” and now thinks he’s more of a “Bane of My Existence I Can Never Escape From,” but either way he’s thinking obsessive, distorted thoughts about shanks.
to ever have a healthy relationship with him—or even a healthy indifference towards him—i do think buggy needs to let go of this thinking. shanks isn’t, wasn’t, and can’t be buggy’s whole world, either (derogatory) or (complimentary). but i don’t think that has to mean never seeing shanks again.
as i said: it would be easier to stay apart. it would be smarter to stay apart. but would they be happier apart?
#of course we’re assuming a lot here in thinking that ‘buggy develops healthy relationships’ is any kind of goal in op#sometimes i think there is an intended arc for buggy#sometimes i think oda just loves having this toxic clown around#he’s the kind of character where i’m not sure how seriously the story wants me to take him y’know?#do i laugh at his misfortune or do i cry?#one piece#shuggy#tos answers#buggy#—buggy makes bad choices#—buggy has insecurities#—the shuggy roguetown breakup
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Other ship I dislike beside sylki and it's lokius.
Honestly I very understand why they shop Loki and mobius (beside they want gay couple). It's interaction , even hollow and all shit loki reply what mobius said, different with Sylvie , loki just quite. Also o think it's because Owen Wilson self Dan his chemistry with Tom are look more real than with shopia.
But no, the ship not more healthy than ylki because well mobius is not nice and kind to loki either, his nice is pretty much like he give candy as bait and he have knife behind his back. And his 'kindness ' is loom hollow and fake.
I really feel annoyed that many fans said mobius is loki Jimmy cricket. Did, he is worse than loki. Or the compared mobius with aziraple. I may not really know aziraple but I know definitely aziraple is nice, respect and kind to demon Crowley. Something mobius never did and never will do.
Oh , I see a fanart that frigga thank to mobius. Okey, whoever drawing that they forgetting that mobius lie to loki and balme to loki that loki kill frigga, his mother and lead loki to breakdown.
Mobius is like Sylvie and rest of Asgard family bad and toxic peoples that claimed they care and kind to loki but never showing it to loki.
I am very disappointed that narrative keep saying he is loki's friend and nice to him. Are they blind or stupid ?
So the thing is about the Sylvie Loki ship is there is so little of a relationship at all I can't really call it abusive. Mobius and Loki is incredibly abusive. Like Mobius is constantly belittled and insulting Loki and any compliments is undermine with condescension. Mobius is using Loki and will and does half way through the series condemn Loki to pain and death when he doesn't do what he's want.
The idea Mobius is any kind moral center or influence of good is so wrong. Mobius wanted Loki to join the TVA, the people who as the show itself state are people who annihilate universe is and orphan little girls. The very first scene is Mobius unhesitantly condemning a child to non-existence. It doesn't matter if Mobius thinks he working for the greater good because his actions are horrible and that's what he wanted Loki to do.
At no point does Mobius encourage Loki to save a cat from a tree, save someone from burning building or just be more thoughtful to others. No he wanted help capturing Sylvie so the TVA could go on unhindered and keep being a Fascist knight templar cult. All the good Loki displays, the sympathy for the people on lamentis and the kindness to Sylvie that is just the good Loki always was. Mobius just tears Loki down and then is awarded a gold star because he reluctantly says "Well, actually you can be good Loki." what a joke
Can we get frostiron back to being the popular Loki mlm ship. Because I may have some issues with Tony but at least he didn't torture Loki, be complicit in daily genocide and institutionalized assault
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I can't actually recommend Psych-Hunter, as it's not, strictly speaking, what you'd call good. It has, however, made us laugh out loud several times, and a lot of the visuals are really clever, and it's got to know what it's doing with how gay it's making those main boys (to say nothing of the police captain and that little cop who totally has a crush on him). It's weird and it's fun, and if you're looking for a thing to watch, you could do a lot worse!
NOTE: The preceding paragraph was written before I watched the last episode.
Look, this show is a hot mess. Let me break it down:
The good: some amazing visuals; excellent costuming (like, even when it's ugly, it's still good?); delightfully batshit worldbuilding decisions; fun short-arc mysteries; hella gay bromance; delicious boy tears; incredibly endearing secondary cast; great Psychonauts-esque plot device; some gorgeous mindscapes done with (mostly) practical effects; did I mention those two boys are real gay for one another?
The bad: little to no narrative cohesion; terribly bad pacing; high body count, especially of ladies; a couple inexplicable heel turns; when the CG is there, it's not great; plenty of unintentional comedy; most overarching mysteries remain completely unsolved.
The ugly: het romance that swings between just plain boring and outright skeevy; absolutely no grasp of the female lead's character; and of course, all the shit it pulls in the last episode.
...But obviously I found the whole mess still pretty compelling despite the flaws, considering I've just written like 1500 words of a Tumblr post that barely anybody else is ever going to read about it! So, uh, maybe that's an endorsement? I can't tell anymore.
Most of those words are beneath the cut, starting with the vaguely spoilery thoughts -- the ones you can read without spoiling yourself for the whole show. I'll mark when the big ones are coming up.
The good and the bad are, I think, somewhat self-explanatory. I want to talk about the ugly a bit, though.
The first two are actually two halves of the same problem. As a character, as she is written, Yuan Muqing sucks. Her entire personality is "whatever we need The Girl to be doing in this scene." She swings from Strong Independent Woman to Damsel In Distress to Spunky Female Police Officer to Spoiled Rich Schoolgirl to Giggling Love Interest with no sense that there should be any consistency between these states. Every detail of her life disappears the second it's not immediately relevant to the plot. She is a selection of two-dimensional objects chosen on a scene-by-scene basis to compliment whatever else is going on around her. I guess you could excuse this by [insert spoilers for the last episode here], but for that to work, the show would have to give off any sense that it understood her characterization was bad in the first place.
Whatever they could have done with the het romance was pretty doomed to fail from the start by having her be so badly written. (There are a few very cute moments they have later on, when they write her like an actual person, but it's too little too late.) She and Jiang Shuo already have little to no actual chemistry together, and the majority of their relationship is artificial overreaction-and-miscommunication conflict. And as though that weren't bad enough, the show keeps making it skeevy by making her so young. She's a high school student who has a very little-girl room, complete with dolls she talks to and petulantly punishes when she has tantrums. Many of her hairstyles and outfits also run young. Nobody gets a canonical age, but she's clearly a teen while both boys seem well into their twenties. The age gap does the relationship no favors.
Worse, the romance largely nukes her relationship to Qin Yiheng. When the show starts, they at least interact with one another, even if it looks like the show's going to get a "girl can't decide which boy she likes!" dynamic going with the main trio. Very quickly, though, she needs to be only The Love Interest for Jiang Shuo, meaning that she barely talks to Qin Yiheng for the whole rest of the show. Even when all three are onscreen together, those two might as well each be invisible to the other. They're not really a triangle -- they're a hinge, and the non-Jiang-Shuo points don't touch.
All that being said, there is such potential in her, and like 95% of that potential comes from the fact that the girl is obviously insane. Beyond even her canonical delusions, That Girl Ain't Right. Everything she does is so much better if you imagine there's a full-on roomba with knives simmering just beneath her bippy, ponytailed surface. She has to be Generalissimo Daddy's good little girl, when deep down she wants to do violence. That's great.
Some of the early promo materials I've seen make mention of how she's supposed to be the muscle of the operation. I wish they'd been far more consistent about that! She should absolutely be the party tank, bounding away from danger with a boy under each arm. All of the "oh no, Muqing got kidnapped/held hostage/threatened!" beats should have been responded to with a shrug.
But of course, it doesn't matter, because...
****MAJOR SPOILERS START HERE****
...it's not real.
Nearly none of it is real. There are two real people in the show, and everyone else is imaginary. Everything Jiang Shuo feels about her is completely one-sided, because she doesn't exist.
I am not categorically opposed to the final plot twist. I actually think, thematically, it makes a fair amount of sense, given how many other dreamscapes and mind-dives we've seen. What I'm opposed to is having it drop in the final episode, when there's no time to deal emotionally with any of it. If you wanted to pull that Inception shit, you should've done it at least halfway through the series. Give poor Jiang Shuo multiple episodes to deal with the truths that a) everyone he loves (minus one person) is a figment of his imagination, b) he is ultimately the one responsible for the horrors he has created, and c) he will have to decide in the end whether to live in the delusion or to destroy it by leaving. Let him wrestle with what he knows vs. what he feels. Give him plenty of time to deal with his guilt about what he's done to Qin'er. That would be delicious. That's not what we got.
Also, you've got to telegraph it, like, at all. As it is, I wondered for a while there whether something weird/bad happened, the real last episode got destroyed, and they had to hastily film an alternate ending. I am all but certain, on reflection, this is not what happened. There are just enough clues planted earlier that, yeah, I'm pretty sure this was the end they meant all along.
Which was such a bad decision. You know all those mysteries you were interested in, the ones driving the plot? Congratulations! You're never going to know! And it's not because the show got canceled or otherwise truncated -- no, it's because the show decided to tell you outright that those mysteries were never meant to be solved. It's a riddle that never had an answer in the first place.
I said at the time that the end feels exactly like an anime that got too far ahead of the manga, ran out of source material, and had to cobble together an ending that wouldn't spoil the manga's eventual logical conclusion. That's not quite what happened, but it's exactly the vibe.
(Not to get too spoilery of other properties here, but yeah, you realize this was the same guy who made Sand Sea, and that actually makes a lot of sense. Speaking of things that ran out the source material...)
My instinct is to tell people not to watch the last episode, to just stop at the end of 35 and make up your own stories about what comes next, but ... you kind of have to see it to believe it. It's worth it for the sheer audacity that would consider this a good ending.
I've seen plenty of people on various sites saying they loved the ending while clamoring in the same breath for a second season. No, friends, you're having the same reaction I did -- you know a twist like that should not be a last-minute drop. It's not a setup for anything; it's what happens when you can't stick the landing, so you throw out a bunch of impressive-sounding nonsense while pretending that was what you'd meant to do all along. A second season wouldn't solve the mysteries, because the show has declared that not only won't they be solved, they weren't even mysteries in the first place. They were fancy shiny meaningless things that made the plot go, and you were stupid for being invested in them.
And by "mysteries" here, I mean the actual things that are being held up as mysterious and in need of a solution, like Liu Zhi's identity and the Yin River treasures and what happened to Papa Qin. I don't mean the things like wtf is going on with Moustache Dad and his weird semi-k*kistan flag -- because those are just fun bits of magical realism worldbuilding. Clearly this is all operating in some urban fantasy next-world-over scenario, where we're in, uhhh, Zhanghai, Zhina. It's real-world enough that we still have the British and the Japanese, but fake enough that whatever was going on with that hypnotism clock and the lake monster skeleton? Totally normal.
I guess that's part of what I find so frustrating, that it made such an interesting world to play around in ... and then took the cop-out "it was all a dream!" explanation. All the trauma and deaths you felt sad about? Irrelevant. All the friends in danger? Who cares! All the stakes you thought mattered? Meaningless. What, you want new stakes to care about? Well, we'd love to, but the last episode's ending. Bye!
Anyway! Frustrating but compelling! I have now burned so many more brain cells on this show than it deserves, and I will probably continue burning more for fanfic purposes. If you made it this far into this nonsense -- both the show and this post -- I salute you.
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This post assumes you know the basics by now Part 2
Welcome back sickos (quikos?). Since I already covered the time constraints, team management and compensation aspect of the Flowergothic saga, we are moving on to what is unmistakably the core of the nontroversy.
As I wrote previously, there's no denying there was an at least platonic aspect to this whole thing from Julia's part, the two drunken love confessions appear in the last 5 or so pages if you want to see them in context. The stalking happened in Twitter and no party has come forward to either prove or disprove it.
Let's get some facts straight. Julia ended her video about working for Quinton saying that the partnership ended for very personal reasons she wasn't comfortable disclosing. It isn't a reach to assume those reasons are why Quinton decides to start his response the way he did and by the end of it he spins the whole narrative around to being unable to trust collaborators in fear they may want to get too personal. Yeah, let's say I could write a frigging essay about my problems with his response.
So Julia complains she was told she was a friend but was never treated as such and in the context of the chat logs I can see what actually happened.
Quinton pretty much friend zoned a woman he wasn't even friends with. He calls her a friend in order to defuse her advances without having to say no directly and let's just say when he opens his bulleted list to reject her with "I saw it coming" I was like no shit.
If you were to open the PDF file and just speedrun it without skipping pages you would see a good deal of pages are Julia selfies fishing for compliments.
If you were to see more carefully you would see the many virtual hugs, I like yous and looking cute todays.
So maybe you are thinking, maybe Quinton is just keeping it professional right? Nope, he proceeds to vent about his own problems because his Discord server isn't enough.
It seems this Flowergothic person actually overplayed the supportive friend role for Quinton, huh? Honestly is kind of concerning on both ends specially at the point Julia starts posting fan reactions and comments for iBinged iCarly in order to cheer him up.
So let's move to how this contrasts with some of her complaints about Quinton not accommodating her emotional needs she has mentioned on Twitter, TikTok and YouTube for over a year. Including her editing duties were also affecting her own channel (mainly her video on the Duggar family), opening up about dealing with her own KF thread and having to deal directly with an iCarly episode that reminded her of trauma.
That would be iHurt Lewbert.
Here's a TikTok that acts as a pretty grounded summary of things from her perspective with evidence.
Remember that the stalker narrative depends on a Twitter exchange we can't verify because Quinton softblocked her and according to him he doesn't have it either yet he has the screen caps he showed in his response. He only has the messages right after the Discord conversation ends when Julia was very civil, then says she became very aggressive and then has his evidence to prove it.
Truth be told I think he is owed as much scepticism as Julia faced, because this became a big game of he said, she said. Specially because people started throwing SH accusations for what’s in the same league as Quinton's very own DM humiliation a couple of years back.
Just remember one of the opening lines of the response is "I was hoping this was going to go away by ignoring it".
Here's the Drive link so you can come to your own conclusions: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1b3-rLmMYK7EFMFsA4aNITLKgtH6ILWeB
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༝༝༝ ϟ ༝༝༝
The ongoing outpouring of compliments caused her to want to distance herself. She didn't want to talk about herself but this was part of their agreement for the evening. Meg's walls stayed up regardless of what his words sounded like, to trust them was something else entirely. If anything she had learned it was what the men like Blaise were underneath all the sweet talk and that wasn't something she could rely on. Not all of it was untrue, as she had a snarky comment for everything and a fighting spirit in everything she did. Well, besides the fact she was eternally tied to the king of the Underworld himself.
Instead of saying anything back she took them, letting them bounce off, and keeping her eyes averted as if looking into his would make them feel all too real. It was stupid to believe any of this was special to her and she knew that. She could be called a lot of things but blinded by a pretty face wasn't one, not anymore. "Yeah and how many girls have you said all that stuff to?" Meg finally looked up at him then, her eyebrows furrowed. Though she wasn't upset that didn't mean she was going to take them for face value. Everything he was giving her was regurgitated, no one actually thought about her like that. She was a body, an object, a means to an end, and she wouldn't let pretty language from a Frenchmen add to that narrative. "You don't need to say all that shit, you know. It's not why I'm here," she said, though quickly moving on and not wanting to discuss that further. Regardless of how he talked a big talk, she found something about him endearing.
The last thing she wanted to go into was what about her made her confide to a life of solitude. She couldn't imagine attaching her life to someone again, not even having her own life in her hands. That didn't change the fact that having someone hold her like they might not let go felt nice. "Enjoy it while you have it," Meg replied, a slight laugh coming through as she did. Maybe she could find her own enjoyment of having someone, it was just for one night after all. At least when he was kissing her it felt like he might be genuine but she didn't hold onto it. The cup between them was taken up by her and her eyebrows raised to look at her companion for the evening ahead. "Another one for you to lose," she teased.
The dimly lit bar created an atmosphere of mystery and allure, the perfect setting for Blaise to finally hold Meg in his arms. She had always been the woman he desired, yet remained unattainable until now. As he pulled her close, he couldn't help but tease her with a grin. "Dark and mysterious? More like hot and snarky," he quipped. Blaise was enamored with Meg, and every moment with her was a sweet delight. He knew being with her was a risk, but he was an arrogant man, always playing with fire and coming out unscathed. Just for tonight, he was her boyfriend, and he intended to be the best lover she had ever had. He took on the challenge with determination, hoping to make her forget that anyone else could ever be an option.
"You look absolutely beautiful," he began, his voice deep and filled with admiration. "I find myself staring at you all the damn time. You and those stupid cups." The tequila had loosened his tongue, but he meant every word. Meg was a sight to behold, and he felt lucky to have her by his side. Blaise's eyes roamed over Meg's face and body, taking in every detail. "You've got a face I could kiss for days, a smoking hot body, and a smile that melts my heart." he murmured. He couldn't help but wonder how a woman like her was still single. But tonight, she was his, and he intended to make the most of it. "Before you say anything stupid, allow me. Just for tonight. Alright?" He knew she was allergic to compliments, but Blaise had been begging to say it, never finding the right circumstances to ever admit something to her.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "I don't know why the hell you're single but tonight, you're all mine." His grip tightened around her, releasing a hunger that wasn't so apparent before. He kissed her once again, enjoying the taste of her lips. For now, she was his dream, and he would do everything in his power to make it a reality. Lumiere took another cup and placed it in between them. "Game continues, eh?"
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Just Another Conquest - Part 1
Masterlist
Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.
Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader, Reader x Original Male Character
Warnings: Angst, Kissing, Mentions of sex
Notes: There are some touchy subjects at the end of this chapter. If you’re easily triggered this might not be for you. Don’t wanna add too many tags as it’ll spoil it.
For two years you had worked at the embassy as a secretary. You kept your head down and your nose out of trouble and so no one noticed you.
Except Greg.
Greg was sweet. You’d been on a few dates and you were taking it steady. Too many times you had jumped in headfirst into the flames and gotten burned so this time you were going to take things slow, Glacial, but Greg didn’t seem to mind. Greg was sweet.
Someone who wasn't sweet.
Javier Peña.
He had bedded most of the single or unmarried secretaries in the embassy. Even some of the married ones. He flirted with everyone. Well everyone except you and even though that stung a little you were glad. He couldn’t tarnish you if he couldn’t see you.
You’d been infatuated with the man from day dot at the embassy. He was a smooth talker and painfully handsome but you knew you weren’t his type. You were plain, a little on the chubbier side and uninteresting. You'd seen some of the women he’d slept with. Your apartment was across from his and they were all beautiful. The polar opposite of you.
It was the day of the Christmas office party. An event you looked forward to as it gave you a chance to dress up a little. Greg had bought you a stunning dress for the event, something you’d spotted in the window of a shop one day and told him you liked it. He’d managed to find out your size and had snuck back to buy it for you and you had swooned. No one had done anything like that for you before.
The dress fit perfectly. Highlighted all the right parts of you and for once you actually felt pretty. You did some simple makeup, pinned your hair up in a loose bun and wore the only pair of heels you could walk in. Greg was there to collect you when you were done, his jaw dropping to the floor when you emerged from your apartment building and you chuckled at his reaction. You both then got a taxi to the embassy and he had been unable to keep his eyes off of you or his lips from yours. Maybe tonight was the night that you’d let him into your bed.
You arrived a short while later and made your way inside, people excitedly bussing around you as you made your way to where the party was being held. The hall in the embassy had been decorated in traditional American fashion. Tinsel, baubles and lights adorned the walls and a large, audacious, tree sat in the centre of the room with presents surrounding its base. You gazed around in awe of what you were seeing and Greg couldn’t stop watching at you.
Little did you know, neither could Javier Peña.
He had spotted you as soon as you’d entered. He had seen you around over the past few years but until now had never spared you a second glance. He watched you as you entered with Greg from accounts. He’d spoken to Greg a handful of times and he always seemed nice enough, if not a little dull. His attention was so stuck on you that he didn’t even hear Steve talking his ear off until his name was shouted in frustration. Pulling the agent from his fancy.
“Oh no, you leave that one alone.” Growled Steve when he noticed who Javier was staring at.
“What… why?”
“Because I know what you’re like and she’s sweet. She has worked hard to keep herself out of the limelight and you paying her any sort of attention will destroy that completely.” Stated Steve, downing that last of his drink as he watched you head to the bar with your companion “Besides she’s dating Greg anyway.”
“Greg’s dull.” Mumbled Javier and Steve barked out a laugh.
“Greg is nice and perfect for her.” Asserted the blonde agent “Leave her alone.” He warned and Javier simply rolled his eyes, waving his partner off as he stood.
‘Another.’ He asked as he lifted his empty glass and Steve nodded before turning his head to seek out his wife in the bustle of people beside him.
Javier watched you as he approached the bar, taking you in as he came to a stop a few stools over. The dress you wore fitted your form beautifully, highlighting your small waist and larger breasts. You had a perfect hourglass figure and he practically salivated at the sight, wanting nothing more than to worship every inch of you but you were forbidden fruit. Which made it all the harder to resist you.
You hadn’t noticed Javier watching you but Greg had and he felt resentment start to simmer beneath the surface of his skin. If Agent Peña had set his sights on you then he had no chance. No one could resist that man's charms. He was relieved however to see that you remained blissfully unaware of the man’s attentions so he did his best to keep yours on him.
“They’ve done a wonderful job with the decorations huh?” He spoke as he wrapped his arm around your waist and you nodded eagerly in reply “You’re the most beautiful thing here though.”
“Oh shush Greg.” You chuckled, you’d never been very good at taking a compliment.
“No seriously.” He said as he gazed longingly at you “These last few months have been… Well they’ve been wonderful and I know you want to take things slow and that’s fine. Just know that when you are ready, I will make sure to show you just how beautiful I think you are.”
You swooned at his statement but Javier scoffed and then as the narrative repeated in his mind he became intrigued. The two of you hadn’t slept together? How serious can you really be if you’ve never fucked? So he decided you were fair game. God help him, he was going to taste those lips before the night was done.
…
“Would you like another?” Javi asked you as he motioned to your empty glass.
You jumped at the sudden question, turning your head to see Javier Peña staring back at you. A mixture of thoughts and emotions rushed through you at once but the one that lingered was lust. The way the man opposite you was looking at you went straight to your core and you found you were losing yourself in his dark chocolate orbs.
“Oh uh… Yes please.” You fumbled, the shock of your current situation lingering.
“You look lovely.” He said sweetly as he motioned at the barman to refresh yours and his drinks “A little different to your usual get up.”
“How would you know what I usually wear?” You questioned, a little taken aback by his statement.
“I’ve seen you around.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders.
“Right.” You sniggered, taking a sip from your new drink “Thanks for the drink, Agent Peña.” You finished as you turned to leave only to be stopped by his hand grasping your arm.
“Call me Javi.’ He said softly as he smiled at you.
“Well, thank you again Javi but I must be getting back to my date.” Giving him a last nod you sauntered away, unable to miss the scowl plastered across Greg’s face.
“What did he want?” He asked as you came up beside him.
“He got me a drink.” You replied nonchalantly “That was all.”
“That isn’t all he wants from you.” He growled and your head shot back in shock at his change of tone.
“Greg, I am in no danger of attracting Javier Peña.” You snort, rolling your eyes at him.
“Have you seen how you look?” He snapped and you found yourself growing irritated.
“I have and I am not his type.” You spit “He’s only interested in slim, tall, perfect skinned beauties and I am none of those things Greg. You have nothing to worry about.”
Little did you know, he had plenty to worry about. As the evening went on the music started to die down and people began to say their goodnights, thinning the crowd down to the younger staff members of the embassy. Greg had remained possessive of you, noting how Javier would watch you as you danced with your friends or talked with other people from your department. He’d picked his prey and you were it. Greg, helpless to stop it.
“Would you like to dance Hermosa?” Came a deep voice from behind you and you shivered at the effect it had on you.
Turning you see Javier smiling down at you, his suit jacket long since discarded and tie also. He’d unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his golden skin beneath. Then suddenly your brain caught up with the rest of you and you shook your head as you looked back up at the man that was towering over you.
“I shouldn’t.” You replied, shaking your head as you looked around nervously “I should get back to Greg.”
“Greg is stuck in a deep conversation with a bunch of other accountants.” He countered, taking one of your hands in his “Just one dance. Will be perfectly innocent I promise.”
You tried to find another reason to say no, anything, but you were coming up blank and so you were unable to resist when he pulled you gently towards the dance floor. The song was slow, soft and you glanced around at the other couples close to each other, slowly swaying to the music.
“Relax.” The agent whispered against the shell of your ear and you shivered,
“Why are you doing this Javi?” You questioned, looking up into his eyes.
“Doing what?” He asked with a mildly bemused expression on his face.
“This. Dancing with me, paying me any form of attention.” You elaborated and his brow furrowed “We both know I’m not your type so this isn’t some ploy to get me to sleep with you, or at least I hope it's not. You’ve never spoken to me before tonight so why? What’s this all about?”
“How do you know what my type is?” He questioned, dark eyes watching you closely.
“Because I live across the hall from you and so have seen many of your conquests leave. All thin and beautiful which I am not.” You chuckled to yourself, glancing at Steve who watched the two of you.
“Well firstly, I think you are beautiful.” He stated and you rolled your eyes “Really, you don’t believe me?”
“I believe you’re a smooth talker that’s good at getting women to fall in love with him.” He snorted at the, glancing at Steve a moment before returning his attention to you “I know I’m not beautiful.” You shrug “I came to terms with that a long time ago but I don’t like to be teased or played with. So if this is some sort of game or bet. Please don’t involve me.” You pleaded and Javier felt his heart ache a little that you’d think such a thing.
“This is no game Hermosa.” He said softly “I like you and I wanted to dance with you.” He continued, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek “That's all that is going on here.”
“You like me?” You questioned, unable to help the squeak in your voice.
He nodded as he smiled at you and then time seemed to stand still. Your eyes flitted to his lips as you gazed at each other, the world around you falling away as Javier Peña cupped your face and kissed you softly. You didn't react for a moment, shocked that this is even happening and then you responded, kissing him back as your hands gripped his wrists and when he pulled away, all eyes were on you.
“Can I take you home Hermosa?” He asked quietly as he gazed at you, smiling when you nodded in reply and then he was leading you out. Greg and the party were all forgotten.
…
“I hope you don’t expect me to sleep with you this evening.” You chuckled, smiling shyly at the man driving you.
“A man can always hope.” He replied, glancing at you a moment before returning his attention to the road.
“Well, I’m not that easy.” You stated, sticking your tongue out at him playfully which elicited a throating laugh from the agent "I like to be wooed first."
You loved his laugh. It brought you all new waves of pleasure to hear it but as your building seeped into view, along with a familiar-looking truck parked out front, the realisation hit you like a freight train.
“Oh my god.” You sobbed as you hopped out of his truck, clutching your middle as you cried.
“Hermosa what’s wrong?” Asked Javier, his tone panicked as he sprinted to your side.
“Greg.” You choked and he noticed you staring at the vehicle parked in front of his “I kissed you, and I left him there. What… Why would I do that?”
Javier pulls you into his arms, holding you as you cried over the relationship you know you had destroyed. He pulled you with him, taking you inside and into his apartment where he sat you down on his couch and poured you a drink.
“Thank you.” You hiccuped as you took the drink from him, staring at the glass as he sat beside you “I liked Greg.” You started, eyes not wavering from your glass “He was sweet. Liked me for me and I’d never had that before. All my previous boyfriends wanted one thing and I got burned so much I gave up on the idea that someone could want more with me.”
“You have to go through some hurt to find the right man.” Javier replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close “You’ll find him I’m sure. You deserve happiness.”
You sat there and talked for a little longer. Until your eyes were so heavy you could no longer keep them open and when Javier noticed you dosing off, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to his bed. He didn’t try anything. Just simply held you and it was the best sleep he’d had in years.
~
You had no idea you’d be the talk of the office when you returned from the holidays. Greg hadn’t spoken to you since that night and neither had Javi. You’d snuck out the next morning before he’d woken up, mortified that you’d fall asleep at his. You knew you hadn't had sex with him but you’d still slept with him and that brought on all kinds of different emotions. Did he like you the way you like him?
“So how was it?” Asked Kirsten as sat down at your desk, her eyebrows lifting.
“How was what?” You asked, your confusion evident in your features.
“Your hot night with agent Peña.” She elaborated and you almost choked on your coffee “You did fuck him right?”
“No, I didn’t.” You expelled, already feeling sick to the stomach at the realisation you were the talk of the office.
“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes at your denial “No one goes home with Javier Peña without him having his way with them. You’re so lucky.” She sighed “Although poor Greg left with his tail between his legs. No one blames you for going to the better dish though… Javi is quite the meal.”
You abruptly grabbed your bag and stood from your chair, not stopping to pick it up as it clattered on the stone floor. All you could think about was getting out of there, and fast. You couldn’t miss the sniggering as you swiftly left the office, only to be stopped by two hands grabbing your shoulders.
“Woah what's up?” Asked Greg as he pulled you to the side.
“I uh… everyone's laughing at me.” You sobbed, eyes skirting around and catching peoples stares.
“What did you expect when you went home with Agent Peña.” He scoffed and you looked up at him with a broken expression “All those months clearly meant nothing to you as you dropped your panties for him the moment he called.”
“What? No… I didn’t sleep with him.” You assured, head shaking tears loose from your eyes “I swear to you I didn’t. He kissed me and that’s it.”
“Didn’t see you pushing him away.” He growled and your stomach sank “Despite what you pulled, I still care about you so I will have a word with the others. Just try to keep your head down from now on yeah?”
You nodded, sniffing as you watched him walk away but as you looked around you could see that everyone was still looking at you, talking about you.
You needed to leave.
Your sprinted to the elevators, uncaring of anyone else's attention and pressed the button vigorously, willing it to arrive. You didn’t even look when it opened, just shuffled inside and pressed the button for the parking level. You’d explain later why you’d left.
“Everything okay?” Came a soft Southern voice and you turned your head to see Steve beside you “Rough day?”
“Putting it lightly.” You replied, letting out a watery chuckle as you threw your head into your hands.
“I told Javi to leave you alone. Fucking prick.”
“No this is all my fault.” You sobbed as you looked up at him “Javi was sweet. I should really talk to him but today isn’t the day. Right now I need to go home and wallow.”
“Well, you can do that together if you like.” He chuckled and you looked at him in confusion “He ended up taking today off.
“Right.” You replied as you pulled your bag tighter over your shoulder as you exited the lift and headed towards your car.
Maybe you should speak to him today.
…
You’d more or less talked yourself out of it by the time you'd made it back to your apartment building. You pulled into your allotted parking spot, sprinted up the stairs and made it to your front door, only to be stopped by a familiar voice.
“What are you doing back?” He asked and you turned to face him, noting how his brows were drawn together in concern.
“I uh… Well, let's just say I’m the talk of the office.” You replied plainly as you pulled out your key, desperate to escape this inevitable conversation.
“Why?” He asked and you looked at him again in amazement.
Did this guy seriously have no clue?
“Well, let's see Javi. I turned up at this year's Christmas party with Greg, the guy I was seeing and then left with you after you kissed me in front of all of our colleagues. Why do you think that I’m the subject for office gossip?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you awaited his response.
“We didn’t sleep together thought?”
“They don’t know that” You replied, rolling your eyes at him “So that’s what everyone assumed happened. That I waited months to take that step with Greg but one kiss from you and I give you what you want.”
“I’m sorry Hermosa.” He replied, his eyes taking on a sad puppy dog quality that immediately had your anger melting away.
“Why aren’t you at work today Javi?” You questioned as your body language relaxed and you turned to put your key in the door.
“One of my informants died.” He announced and you immediately turned to look at him “She uh… Well, she was ratted in by one of her colleagues. We found her last night mutilated and raped.”
“Oh Javi, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You replied as you gave him a sympathetic look, your heart breaking from the pain that was so evident on his face “Did you want to come in?” You asked innocently and he nodded, taking the hand you offered and following you inside.
Little did you know that this time, you really would give Javi what he wanted. You talked, you consoled each other, you kissed and then finally when the kissing became heated and passionate you fucked him, allowing your own troubles to be dissolved by pleasure. You allowed yourself to lose yourself in him and he buried himself in you to escape himself but when all was done and you lay their sated in his arms you started to wonder.
Maybe he did like you.
~
It doesn’t take long for word to spread around the office that you had fucked Javier Peña now. Someone else who lived in the building overhearing your activities and telling the entire office the following day so when you’d turned up the following feeling more relaxed, it was quickly ripped away from you.
“So decided to skive off for a fantastic fuck with Javi Peña eh?” Kirsten asked as she winked at you, the colour completely draining from your face “You lying slut though. I knew you were shagging him.”
“I uh…”
“Oh no use in denying it, you were heard. You’re apparently pretty vocal in the sack.” She sniggered as the other girls in the office started to chuckle along with her “Oh Javi.” She mocked “Oh Javi yes… just there-“
You left before she could finish her berating, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made your way through the halls to the bathrooms in the hope you could cry alone in there but sure enough, you were not to be so lucky. Greg grabbed you as you tried to scurry past but there was no sympathy in those blue orbs anymore, nothing but anger.
“You fucking slut.” He growled, eyes burning you “I courted you for months. Treated you right and the first moment you get you fuck man whore Peña?” He spat and you flinched at his outburst “You just used me. Did you even fucking like me?”
“Yes, Greg.” You sobbed, fat tears flowing freely now “I did like you... I do even. I like you a lot, I swear I didn’t use you.”
“But you couldn’t resist opening your legs for Javier Peña.” He growled, snarling at you as he watched your face crumble “You know he doesn’t commit so good luck regaining any credibility you had here.” He finished, leaving you sobbing in his wake.
You quickly sprinted through the halls, people's mocking laughter filling your ears but you just pushed forward. You looked up a moment and that's when you caught eyes with him, the man from which all this trouble had stemmed from and you stopped, giving him a hopeful look as he grabbed your arm and pulled you to one side.
“What's the matter?”
“You seriously the only person in the embassy not to hear the latest gossip?” You asked, noticing the genuine confusion that spread across his face.
“We were heard Javi.” You explained, wiping your cheeks with your sleeves “Someone heard us and has told everyone.” You sobbed, face leaning into his hand as he cupped your cheek “But you can set everyone straight, tell them that this is different? I mean, it was different right?” You asked, eyes pleading for him to soothe your worries.
“Hermosa…” He trailed off as he dropped his hand and shook his head, your stomach dropping “Hermosa I-.”
“You said you like me.” You choked, eyes growing wide as you shook your head in disbelief “That I’m beautiful.”
“I do and you are.” He assured you “But I’m not a commitment guy.” He paused and you felt sick “What we did was just two friends comforting each other. Nothing more.”
You can’t believe it. How had you gone and done this again? You’d given yourself to someone body and soul only to be stomped on again. You were a fool and you knew it. There was never going to be a chance of Javier Peña want more than to bury himself in you. You were plain. Simple.
Ordinary.
You left without another word. Darting into the nearest bathroom where you emptied the contents of your stomach before crying yourself dry. When you did finally emerge you were called into your manager's office and were instantly told to take some time. You had some leave to take so they advised you to take it. Let the scandal die down a little. You couldn’t be the talk of the office forever.
So you do. You take the two months you accrued and you leave, numb the entire drive back to your apartment. You thought about going home, actually taking a vacation but then you’ve never been one for adventure. You don’t have anyone back home. No family or friends to speak of so you decide to spend it here. At home. Wallowing in your own self-pity.
~
2 months later…
Javier had noticed your absence and he’d also noticed that you never left your apartment. At least you never left it when he was around to see it. He knew you were due back today, one of the other secretaries informing him that your leave had ended so why weren’t you here? It wasn’t like you to be late. You were always in before most of the other office admins were, sipping your coffee as you went through your daily schedule.
No one else seemed to be worried about your absence. A few assuming you’d forgotten that you were due to come back but they were a little surprised when Agent Peña had started asking around for you. Everyone knew that things between you and him had crashed and burned, your very public refusal being the next hot topic for the weeks that followed. So when he came up short with your colleagues he went to your boss, his worry growing by the minute.
“I’m not sure why it matters to you where she is.” Stated your boss as they continued to skim through the paperwork in front of them “It’s because of you that she ended up taking leave.”
“I understand that but…”He paused a moment, trying to carefully plan what he needed to say “She lives opposite me. I’ve not seen her leave in two months or even heard a peep from her apartment. I know that her suffering is my doing but I do care about her well being.”
“Well, you should have thought about her well being before you dragged her name through the dirt.”
“Do you know where she is?” He growled, growing more and more impatient by the second.
“Yes, I do.” They replied plainly.
“So?”
“She’s in the hospital.” Javier’s eyes shot open, stomach dropping as he stared at the older woman across from him.
“What… what happened?” He asked although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I can’t tell you that.” She stated and he let out a frustrated sigh
“Is she at least going to be okay?”
“She’s in a bad way.” She paused as she finally placed the documents in her hands down “If you want to see her I can’t stop you. Just know… it is very likely that she won’t want to see you.”
She told the agent where you were and watched as he left, knowing that deep down he had a right to know what had happened to put you there.
…
A few flashes of his badge and he was soon led to your room, stopping the doctor as he left your room and demanding he be told what was wrong. He could see that you were sleeping inside and he felt himself ease a little seeing that you weren’t bloody and beaten. So what was wrong?
“She was poisoned.” The doctor explained in Spanish and Javier felt his anxiety shoot through the roof again.
“Poisoned?” He asked “How? By who?”
“By herself.” The doctor stated and Javier’s stomach dropped.
Had he really hurt you that badly?
“She tried to terminate her pregnancy using an old home remedy.” The doctor elaborated and Javier jumped at that.
“Pregnancy?”
“Yes.” The doctor nodded “She is around 2 months pregnant.”
Javier knew instantly it was his and a mixture of emotions coursed through him. Why had you not come to him? Why did you feel like this was the right thing to do? If there was a baby involved he would do what was right. You had to know that right?
“She is sedated.” The doctor continued “The baby survived. The remedy did not work but it did nearly kill her. She was hysterical when she arrived. Begging us to save it.” He paused, glancing at you before returning his attention to Javier “I don’t think she really wanted to get rid of it. She was just desperate and scared. She should be okay though. We will continue to monitor her and the baby. ”
Javier nodded before stepping aside so the Doctor could leave. His mind was racing as he stepped inside of your hospital room and taking a seat at your side. He would wait. Wait until you woke up and he would talk to you. He needed to understand why you did this. Why you felt you had no other option.
…
You were shocked to find Peña dosing in the chair beside your bed when you woke up. How did he even know you were here? Your head was pounding and your mouth dry so you turned your head to find the bottle of water a nurse had brought you earlier, only to knock it when you went to grab it. The agent woke instantly and you groaned in frustration. You didn’t need his lecture right now.
“Hey.” He said softly as he grabbed the bottle and opened it before bringing it to your lips “How are you feeling?”
You shrugged as you sipped the water, relishing how it soothed your sore throat and dry tongue. You nodded when you’d had your fill and watched as he screwed the lid back on and placed it back on the table.
“What are you doing her Javier?” You rasped and he flinched at your inquiry.
“I was worried about you.” He stated, sad eyes locking with yours “The doctor said you and the baby are going to be okay.” He said with a smile and your eyes started to water.
“So you know?”
“Yes.” He replied plainly “He also told me you tried to get rid of it.” He paused, stroking away a tear that escaped from your eye “Why?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t want it.” You replied, lip trembling as you spoke “And I didn't want to raise it on my own.” You paused, watching him process your words before you go for the jugular “Besides, I was just another one of your conquests. Can't go tarnishing your record and I’ve destroyed my reputation enough. Having your baby will just destroy whatever integrity I have left.”
“So what are you going to do?” He asks, stomach twisting.
“I’m going to leave Javier.” You said plainly “I will leave and I will raise this baby on my own. No one will ever need to know you have a bastard child with one of your many whores. I want nothing from you so you can go now.”
“Hermosa I-“
“Leave.” You growled, angry tears staining your cheeks “I’m giving you the out you want. Take it.”
Part 2
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña#javier peña gif#javier peña fanfiction#narcos fanfiction x reader#narcos fanfiction x you#narcos x you#narcos x reader#narcos fanfic#narcos fanfiction#narcos gifs#narcos#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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kinds of tattoo artists
|jjk edition|
rqst: after sukuna i cant staph thinking about what the others would be like as tattoo artist
a/n: these are probably my favorite things to write. i love the format.
G O J O S A T O R U — he has a story for every tattoo ever. one’s he owns, seen and inked himself. they could all be true, but you find the vibrating hum of the needle against your skin easier to ignore when you focus on the vivid imagery of his tales instead. he’s a very good storyteller, never skimping on the details and adding comical commentary around every corner. you connect the threads of each narrative to the accompanying bold lines stretching up the length of his arms. swirls and various shades making for very convincing illustrations to the novel he’d created. before you know it, your hour is up, cutting his retelling just short of the art peeking under his shirt. you could get lost in those baby blues as they twinkle with mischief. they leave you so wrapped up in strings of intrigue that you actually consider a second tattoo despite your hesitations of the first. he looks proud of his work, and should be, deserving off all five stars you planned to give on his review. “don’t like it too much. tattoos can be pretty addicting, after all.” he remarks as he rubs cream into your swollen flesh. yeah, you think, addicting was the right word.
G E T O S U G U R U — the look he gives you when you tell him it’s your first is almost enough to make you reconsider. it’s not rude but there is a hint of condescension as he coaxed you to go into more details about location and coloring. ultimately, you end up in his chair anyways, lip bitten as he goes about preparing supplies. the point of no return comes all too quickly as he peels the sterile needle from the one use pack. “i would offer to let you hold my hand but-” you look up from the skin pinched between two of his fingers to the same smug grin that had greeted you at the door. something on his face must have changed, because slowly so did his as he breathes out a sigh. he surprise you by guiding one of your hands just above his knee, fingers squeezing around yours once before pulling away. “if it gets to be too much squeeze hard but don’t jump. id rather give you a breather than have you pass out on me.”
I T A D O R I Y U U J I — if anyone was going to do your tattoo, you’re glad it’s your boyfriend. he’s more patient than most artist would be. attentive to every squirm and flinch and mindful how a single twitch could leave you with a permanent mishap. you’re going nearly thirty minutes over what was expected, but he’d scheduled out an ample block of time prior, mindful of your skepticism. “hey, hey, we’re almost done,” he mutters, hand stopping when he notices the water behind your eyes. “want to stop, baby?” you do. want the endless burn to finally go away, but you want to finish it equally as bad so you steel your nerves and shake your head. something akin to pride curls at the corners of his lips as he starts back up the motor but not before pressing a quick kiss to yours. “it’s going to look beautiful on you. just you wait. it’ll be worth it.” and you believed him.
F U S H I G U R O M E G U M I —he’s not one for conversation, choosing to rather concentrate on his work than idle chatter. but he doesn’t seem to mind if you do. and so you find yourself talking about any and everything as the clock ticks on. the entire process is almost cathartic. pent up tension escaping you with every word and each pin point of the needle etching away at your skin. this was suppose to be your bold change. something different to stamp a revision on your life while mounting a memorial of your past. or at least that was the speech used to butter yourself up to the idea. at the end of it all, you’re staring at something better than you’d imagined, and dont delay telling him as much. your words ignite a blush that crawls up his nape, barely hidden by the sheepish hand rubbing over the skin. “i-uh... don’t mind doing your next one. if you want one to remember your friend by.” he’s already turning away from your blink of shock, throwing care instructions over his shoulder as he prepares the bandage.
F U S H I G U R O T O J I — it comes as a surprise, because he’s the owner. something pointed out to you by a friend when you’d accompanied them to the shop in the past. he only took on special guests, you’d been told. spending half a day bent over a customer completing yet another work of art that keep the business in high praises. he didn’t bother with the small things. so why he the one offering to pierce the little stud above your naval? eventually you would get a tattoo but you weren’t quite ready to take the plunge. but you’d been eying the cute studded crystal since your last visit. it looks as good as you thought it would, twinkling bright under the hooded lamp. he seems to think so too a thumbs over the tender flesh just above the piercing. “you were so good for me. not even a flinch.” you found yourself caught staring at the sharp cut stretching across both lips as they work into a smile. “you’ll have to come back and let me mark you up for real.”
C H O S O —he thinks you’re cute as you stumble through the explanation of your design. accommodating but insistent when you began to doubt yourself. ultimately, your idea hadn’t changed but you felt it lacking as you stared at the temporary imprint reflected in the mirror. you were his last appointment of the day, and surely eating up his time, but he refused to let you just go through with it. there was a light scold in his voice as he rubbed alcohol against your skin to wipe away the markings. “if you’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right.” you should have been halfway through your tattoo now as the neighboring stations close down for the day. but he waves away your timid glances as he nudges a new sketch book your way. in a way showing you his work had been somewhat counterintuitive, rather than help you settle on a design, you’d been overwhelmed and visibly intrigued by the numerous portraits and motifs. you spent more time compliment the his steady hand for being able to produce such detailed works than you’d progressed to coming any closer to honing in on your own tattoo. eventually he’s the one to call it a night, chasing away your frown with an offer. “tomorrow’s my day off. why don’t you meet me at the cafe around the corner and we can brainstorm this with the help of caffeine.”
#gojo satoru x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fugiguro x reader#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#Jujutsu Kaisen#jjk imagine#gojo x reader#megumi x reader#yuuji x reader#geto x reader
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THOUGHTS ON CHAPTER 248 :
For this chapter, it focuses a lot on the inseparable duos; MitsuKkai and the Haitanis bros - plus there are little segments with Senju and Sanzu (looking forward to their fights) and of course... KokoNui, the most "k-drama"-ish soulmates ever lol.
I think it is no surprise that Mitsuya once looked up to the Haitanis considering how stylish they are and with Mitsuya's fashion sense that plays a role into that inspiration of his, I'm like, "Ooooh understandable, my love, you got taste." Recently I replied to someone that Mitsuya probably regretted his life for complimenting The Haitanis because he must have seen how those two acted together and be like, "Wow I really thought they were cool but they were just like any other [bad] delinquents", but I might need to correct that narrative cuz what's "cool" about The Haitanis by the perspective of Mitsuya was probably their charisma and outer appearance-wise. Well... at least that's what I hope the meaning behind his "cool" is all about.
Anyways, I'm breaking my silence.... Rindou in this panel looks so... I dunno... pretty? It is some kind of a peaceful look, though maybe that could also be the "resting bitch face" type, but hey I'm still down for my man Mitsuya lol ~
One thing I really dislike about The Haitanis (Oh please don't hate me for this, I'm just expressing my thoughts and for reassurance, I know that some things in the world of delinquency are normal and inevitable) is their "dirty tricks" attack style. I know it was Sanzu who downplayed Toman 2nd Gen in the beginning of their encounter, but let's real talk here, the Haitanis are also known to joke around about "someone being childish" and it started way back to the Tenjiku arc with Hakkai and Angry, but I beg yall to PLEASE look at them carefully here...
Like ?????? Who's being dimwit here ??? I don't think they know what "being an adult" or playing fair and square means lol but anyways here ya go, your beautiful "adults".
-
Yeah I know I called these two the most "k-drama"-ish soulmates above, but put the self-titled aside, I really hope they reconcile instantly because... you know... let me be sincere with you from the bottom of my heart, it doesn't feel good to see them part away like this, and somehow I do believe Inupi feels the same way as how he tries to approach Koko and wants him to stop running away. There is just something between them that is yet to settle, thus why I want them to work it out as quickly as possible.
like come on GIVE US SOMETHING DON'T HUNG UP ON US-
-
HERE WE GO, the most anticipated fight that most of us have actually been waiting for - Senju vs. Sanzu. Just like KokoNui, these two also have stuffs that are yet to settle in reference to CH 241, and yall know very well, especially if you're coming from an Asian household, how siblings usually are acting around whenever they had an argument. No generalization here but most of it are true, coming from someone with the same type of household.
As we have acknowledged from Bonten arc, Sanzu is given a nickname as "loyal mad dog". He's proved to be a true loyalist out of any members to Mikey, but his loyalty also sparks a lot of questions among the readers of this manga series. Sincerely, I still can't seem to grasp the true motive of his choice, purpose after what happened in CH 241. Why would he decides to stay with Mikey instead of seeking revenge on him, etc.? Basically CH 241 is Senju's POV and that she even admitted she didn't know the full story of what happened that day but it still traumatize her till recently in this panel.
So, is it possible within this siblings fight, we could obtain Sanzu's POV to make up or fulfill at least half of Senju's POV ? Because I am dying to know about it and hopefully it does justice to these family's backstory as well.
Silly fact: When I read the word "fighting all flamboyantly" , I was suddenly reminded by Uzui Tengen asashadgshvjvdk
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Last but not least........
Gotta be one of Mitsuya panels that drives me crazy xD Oh and I love how Ran looks so pissed in here cuz yeah that's my man Takashi for you !!
#TOOK ME FOREVER TO MAKE THIS POST POSSIBLE#nahh that's a lie. it took me one and a half day to finish this but still...#since i usually busy... i made a draft beforehand and kept coming back to add more words when i had the idea#my back is aching right now hahaha#tokyo revengers#tokyo manji kai#tokyo manji gang#tr 248#tr spoilers#tokyo revengers spoilers#here you go... my overall thoughts on chapter 248#sorry for being a late poster#hope yall have a good day#let's meet again on this Saturday night / Friday morning
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Thanks for not being negative on my post, it was a 2am rant that i didnt intend to be read by anyone but those who themselves werent too happy w the book, so im glad that you heeded the warning (also, dont ever apologize for ur language skills when its not ur first lang, if someone picks at it they're being an asshole (it seems great, but im an english major who has a lot of Opinions abt the hegemony of english and the assumption that knowing english perfectly is some kind of bare minimum, so it saddens me when i see other non-native english speakers apologize unnecessarily- own the fact you know more than one language and never apologize for how well or badly you know your 2nd, 3rd, whatever; the people who matter will be glad you know at least some of their language and have put in an effort to communicate with them, and entitled assholes dont deserve attention))
That aside, I have a pretty bad case of post-exams woozy brain, so i hope my reply will be coherent, and i hope it doesnt sound rude, i dont mean it that way, im just giving my perspective. I mainly want to explain that while yes, calling someone queer solely for being flamboyant is stereotyping (dandies are, i suppose, the main argument that comes to mind lol, lots of them were straight and a lot of ppl in history acting in ways we would consider flamboyant now werent seen as queer then), a lot of queer culture is using stereotypes and assumptions to be visible- think if u see someone with blue hair and large earrings; yes, they might well be cishet, but i will assume they are one of ours, and ill give them a compliment that they, if they are indeed queer, will read as recognition.
Especially considering a history of queerness needing to be hidden and only being expressed through signals that other queer people will understand- languages like polari in britain, the handkerchiefs you'd put in your back pockets, saying someone does or doesnt speak latin in some english schools. And some signals are more well-known and have been a more visible signal throughout ages- men with higher voices, who were 'vain', who dressed a certain way-, and were used to queer code characters when they weren't allowed to be canonically queer. Think ryan from hsm- hes flamboyant, and he loves theater, and ashton cucher or whatever that guy's name is; yes, these are stereotypical traits of a queer man, but its those traits that helped 'those who know know' see themselves on screen, and they were purposefully implemented by the writers for that sspecific purpose.
My point is, yes, howl is flamboyant, and yes, flamboyancy is a part of why i read him as queer. He's the definition of a poor little meow meow, he has a college degree, he loves his earring and his hair and his suits and spends exorbitant amounts of money to make things beautiful. He also has ADHD, and the link between neurodivergency and queerness is another thing added to the list (and you could say much the same thing for him being nd- am i allowed to say he's nd bcs his house is a mess and he knows exactly where he put what and if u move it he wont be able to find it? and bcs hes an overthinker and anxious and has to lie to himself in order to get things done? none of these things mean he's nd, but i see my experiences and the experiences of my nd friends in him, and i hence identify him as such bcs he as a character cannot be consulted on his opinions- he exists not as a person, but a mix of traits that can be interpreted in dif ways) . He doesn't want to be a part of the mainstream, he doesnt want to do things other expect him to do. I see part of queer culture in him, and i compile them all unconsciously and read him as queer- a flamboyant university graduate with no real wish in life but to be free of capitalism and pursue his dreams? i'm going to filter that thru my experiences and knowledge, and im going to read him as queer.
I had certain expectations of the narrative, and I didnt get them from it, and i'm so jaded to the stories that end in marriage as the happy ending and have aspects of the kind of romance depicted in the book that i honestly dont believe that ill read it again, or that id have a dif experience if i did. I did come into it expecting a dif thing to the movie, and it wasn't the lack of kisses that discouraged me from getting engaged with their relationship, or that it was different and more real (as i said, they had teeth in the book, which id hoped coming into it since char flaws are what adds depth to a story and more interestingly moves it forward), it was the fact that a relationship made of arguing and snippets of attraction and peace ending in marriage and procreation has never appealed to me either irl or in stories, and tho not exclusive to cishet relationships, it is something that's seen as worth striving towards in some parts of that culture.
It was admittedly my fault that I hadn't checked the date of the book before id read it, and that i expected something of that book that it simply wasnt meant to be, pulled by the queer atmosphere of the movie (i cant fully describe to u how much that movie means to queer people in my circles, and how much we relate to it and see ourselves in it, either bcs howl is gender envy incarnate and has bisexuality vibes thru the roof (i have a bi trans friend who is, essentially, howl), or bcs the vague magical atmosphere of it is inviting).
With that all said, i want to add a disclaimer that ure free to read the book as u like, and to see the characters as you like. The beauty of stories is that we all experience them differently, and i'm not going to knock your interpretation of it any more than i will my own; i will, however, contest the idea that reading a character as queer bcs they embody certain stereotypes of queerness is incorrect and somehow harmful or shallow.
I have and will go on to read a number of books written in times and places where queer rep wasn't and isn't allowed, or is/was stigmatized enough to be avoided outright, and reading those kinds of books with the fear of seeing a character as queer bcs they embody queer stereotypes but havent outright said it is a disservice both to myself and the author's potential intentions.
It's important to remember that chars arent real, living people, and that labeling them as queer or not queer based on what they do and dont do does them no harm like it would to a real, living person (think what happened with kit connor, for example, or what happens to cishet ppl who cant wear what they like bcs someone might keep questioning their identity and not believe their words bcs of it).
(this is a ramble and isn't complimentary, so if you're in this tag purely for positive stuff, please swerve around this post; you have been warned, so pls don't add negativity to this post either, thanks)
Just finished hmc (book) and i have so many conflicting thoughts about it. Like it was obviously very well written in terms of the worldbuilding and the characters and the plot but then with the romance it felt,,, so odd to me.
Maybe it's the fact that it's decades old, but it has that feeling of vagueness that classics and stuff often do, where I don't feel at all invested because it all feels surface level. Like Sophie and Howl clearly have a connection, but I felt like it was never explored in a way that tugged at my heart strings, it was more like they had the grounds for friendship and then bippity boppity they held hands and were getting married.
Which gets me to another thing- this felt very much like someone had taken a very interesting queer character and put them in a very heteronormative romance plot??? Like howl has such major queer vibes, but then he interacts with sophie and vice versa like they're the protags of every heteronormative straight romance book (if there weren't even making out to keep your attention on SOMETHING), and it just feels like they were done dirty even tho they are as the author intended them to be and saw them as.
Idk just... They're such interesting characters and I would have loved to see their love story if it weren't trapped in a heteronormative cage.
The rest of the story is just so incredibly fun and engaging that whenever this stuff popped up and they were forced to play into these roles it felt jarring and left me at the end wondering if I'd just ruined the experience I knew from the ghibli movie and wasted hours just to end up feeling neutral about the story.
#sorry if i missed something else u said i tried my best to read ur entire reply but words are muddling rn#i have to go get a cup of tea and make some chicken soup its sore throat time#again. hope this doesnt come off as rude i truly dont mean it that way#but that first post was written v late and when i wasnt in the mood to do more than get out my grievances#so i didnt elaborate on what i meant and wasnt planning on it to be read by anyone rly#hope this cleared some stuff up#tbh i wasnt going to reply at first but the debater in me won since u came from a place of good faith lol#also good god pls dont be a t*rf i dont want to have wasted 20 minutes on this for nothing#but if u are u seem so nice that i must beg u to look into other rhetorics bcs t*rfism is a harmful scam#if not ignore this lol
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