#but i still wanted to mention it because it is so important to me
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You just proved my point. I never once said I agree with the Republicans, or that Trump “isn’t that bad”. Listening to someone with an open mind doesn’t mean you accept or excuse their behaviors. You can still arrive at the conclusion that they’re full of shit. What I’m saying is this: I may not agree with what you have to say, but I will fight for your right to say it. And that goes for you as well as Trump, even if I don’t like it. It’s not about me, it’s about respect, and free speech.
You can’t expect a fascist to accept you if you aren’t willing to accept their right to say whatever the fuck they want to say. Does that mean you shouldn’t fight for your rights? Absolutely not, quite the opposite! You should stand for what you believe in! Just like I stand for what I believe in. But turning people from “the other side” into monsters is a horrible idea. All nazis were humans, and if you understand that all humans have the capacity to do evil, then it will be a lot easier for you to spot the red flags.
Also, it is possible for people to change. Someone can go from conservative to democrat. And someone can move from a liberal perspective to a radicalized mindset. People’s opinions aren’t set in stone.
Listening to someone who hates you is never easy. I have experienced that, I know. But you still live on a planet with Trump et al. at the end of the day. If you’re saying that being civil is the wrong approach, then what would you suggest instead? Kill Trump? Stop talking to someone as soon as they mention a conservative or uneducated opinion like “I don’t see how a man can become a woman”? I see that as an opportunity for dialogue.
If someone was to kill Trump now, don’t you think that another guy will take his place immediately, and spew the same crap, like a hydra?
It sounds like you’re at the point where you think violence is the only answer, because the Republican agenda is aggressive. I agree that you have to meet a force with the same force. But I disagree with closing yourself off to other people’s opinions, just because they go against yours. That is the one of the first steps of fascism, as others have pointed out above.
Reading the beginning of the thread again, if it’s true that “art should be wholesome” is a sign of fascism, then so would be statements like “anyone can be trans even without transitioning” if you put yourself into the shoes of a conservative thinking person. The question is: what do you want to focus on? Do you want to focus on hating x group of people for their x beliefs or do you want to dismantle the premise of hate in general?
Hate begets hate. They hate you. If you hate them back, do you think they’ll stop hating you, or do you think they will hate you even more? I assume you can see how easily this way of thinking can lead to a war.
Also, listening to someone’s concerns underneath the hate they spew is important if you really want to make a difference. I absolutely respect your opinion, even if you are being rude about it.
There’s a great video that might help illustrate my point a bit better, but it’s 2 1/2h long. If you don’t have the time, it’s about a black man, Daryl Davis, who befriended a KKK member. And in the end? The white man left the KKK. But Daryl had to endure some intensely disrespectful behavior to get to that point.
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And I’m afraid not a lot of people have the strength of character it takes to do that, and thus affect real change.
Compromise means that no one will be entirely satisfied, but also no one will be entirely left out.
it's true and you should say it.
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how do you find public spaces to fuck (re:the rooftop + dyke)?
sincerely, horny lez
Good question, I will answer it in this response eventually, but first, you have to sit through me intellectually jerking myself off for a moment because I think it may provide some useful perspective.
Public sex has been part of my life for as long as I've been having physical sex at all. As an adolescent it was mostly out of necessity, but these days it's mostly out of convenience. The vast majority of the sex I've had in the last year or two has been public.
I think it's important to clarify that for me at least, public sex is not an act of exhibitionism. If there's any sort of philosophy behind it besides sheer utility, I'd say it's something like not allowing our society's mores and hangups around sex and privacy dictate the terms on how and where we (especially as gay people) engage with our sexuality.
I think there's this gut impulse many people have--including many gay people--around public sex, and I think it speaks to the reactionary view of human sexuality that is unfortunately the stock standard in these times. For many, the idea of people having sex in public gives them some sort of 'ick' that they can't seem to articulate.
Often discussions around public sex are framed like this: "if I walked in on people having sex, it would make me uncomfortable, I didn't consent to that, so people should not be having sex in public." It would be fairly reasonable to experience discomfort in this imagined scenario--in fact, I think most people probably would--and that discomfort isn't a problem. The problem is that the premise assumes a few crucial points, notably that 1. Walking in on public sex is a common occurrence and/or the desired outcome for those engaging in it 2. Discomfort is a form of harm 3. Exposure to (non-hegemonic) human sexuality is capable of causing some kind of nebulous psychic damage to the witness.
To the first point: in my decade or so of regular public sex, I can only think of one instance where I was actually walked in on. It was an alley off of a major road and probably only at around 1030p. I mention this because we absolutely would have chosen a different, more secluded location/time if we were doing anything other than fully clothed kink and maybe some kissing, because again, the goal for most is not exhibitionism; no one really wants to be walked in on, so we choose locations where it is less likely that we will be.
To the second point, I have little to say besides that it simply isn't. Discomfort is an everyday part of life and is something all people experience regularly without calls to stop every potential source of it. So what is it about this topic that makes people react this way?
This leads us to the third point: non-hegemonic modes of sexuality are treated as degenerative and caustic and therefore must be hidden (or eradicated) entirely from the public sphere. It is the classic double standard; think of things like the "Don't Say Gay" or "DADT" laws or more broadly the attempt to remove even the mention of the existence of gays from curriculum. Most of the people who fight for such measures likely don't take the same issue or action with a 48 foot billboard for the local strip club or with a heterosexual couple kissing on screen.
And while the spot that people place the line may differ greatly, this ire against public sex still draws from the same well of reaction against perceived degeneracy that the fascist draws from. If this is not self evidently a negative thing to you, I have little I can say to convince you.
Some may be thinking 'okay, even if it is not harmful or degenerate, why do public sex?' To me, it is just as strange that so many keep their sex lives confined to the home and I could posit the same question. Neither way of doing things is any more natural or unnatural than the other, one is just the societal default. If it would bring you joy, why not engage in public sex?
The world is large, and if you know where to look, there are countless spaces you can carve out and stake the pervert's claim to. Alleyways, parks, bathrooms, rooftops, and beaches are the first to come to mind for me. To answer your question directly, you find them by making them and taking them.
Time is a large factor here as well. A given spot in a park at 9p may not be suitable, but might be more so by 11p, and even more so by 1a. My experience is that the later it gets, more spots become viable with less heavy precautions.
Another factor is coverage. An open field is riskier than behind a tree. The middle of an alley is riskier than behind a dumpster. You want to limit the amount of vectors through which you could be exposing yourself. I value coverage from sight lines over seclusion.
Something else you want to think about is whether or not you are on private property. If you are, it's possible that there are security personnel sitting in a car somewhere nearby or a resident who notices you. At that point, the issue is not even the sex, it's the fact you're there at all.
Finally, you always have to be ready to dip. Be aware of your surroundings as best you can, listen for cars and people, don't get too caught up in the moment that you're blinded. You gotta be ready to pull your pants up and walk quickly away. I'd rather be safe than sorry. If something's not right, get outta there. If you can't, well, don't have your dick out at least.
Anyway, all that to say go out and have fun. Good luck and enjoy yourself. The world has room for you to fit yourself into.
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How could you love somebody like me?
Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.
Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.
“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”
“No,” he whispers.
“So what?”
Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.
You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.
His face went pale when he saw you like that.
Eyes wide open.
Mouth agape.
He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.
“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.
Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides.
He seems anchored to the ground.
His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.
A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable.
“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.
You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff.
“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.
You have been in this room for two days.
Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out.
Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room.
Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone.
You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning.
“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl.
Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.
“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.
"What?"
“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.
His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.
“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest.
"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.
“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”
He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you.
"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance.
“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well, news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”
“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you.
Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.
You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it���.
The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration.
_____________
“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.”
A pause and a sigh.
”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”
You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening.
You smiled.
His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling.
Until you heard something else.
A booming laugh.
Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.
“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right.
Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady.
“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”
Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.
But then why did it hurt so much?
You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.
He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask.
But you know that crooked smile.
He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work."
He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background.
Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”
And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.
You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you.
You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.
You wanted some proof before you charged him.
If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool.
He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck.
He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.
He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.
And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties.
This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him.
His phone was on the bedside table.
It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.
You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times.
You tried twice without success.
The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it.
You were in.
Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen.
And there they were.
Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.
You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.
There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita.
Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry.
Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.
You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.
“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”
“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”
“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”
And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum.
Was he ever sincere with you?
________
When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.
He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”
“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.
He doesn’t reply.
Instead he comes closer and closer.
You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one.
“Please,” he whispers.
“No.”
“Don't do that.”
“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.
”I know...”
“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”
You pull back until you hit the wall behind you.
Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore.
When your lips collide you let it happen.
It’s like when you drink too much Tequila.
It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.
You love it, so you keep doing it.
Javier is the same.
He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?”
He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.
He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.
“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips.
“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”
And yet, you’re still here.
You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him.
You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.
It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.
He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.
His hands run over your hips and you groan.
His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin.
He makes you cry, but you don't say no.
His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.
You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure.
His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head.
Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts.
He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.
His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.
You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.
There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.
Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change.
You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart.
Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.
You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out.
His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back.
You want him inside you.
You need him inside you.
And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.
You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.
The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.
It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency.
You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want.
He is the knife and the wound at the same time.
When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”
Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.
You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices.
He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.
You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.
His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.
Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now.
Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart.
“Fuck me,” you groan.
He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.
Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.
You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.
“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?”
“Shut up,” you hiss.
He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.
You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.
You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.
Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.
At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.
It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you”
You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.
You come, weeping.
Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.
But there’s no hope anymore.
You know you can’t go on like that.
You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.
A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.
It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with.
You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.
He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.
You’re hopeless and breathless.
He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave.
You know you have to.
Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.
“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”
When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.
“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts.
Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times?
You don’t reply.
"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.
You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.
There will be two broken hearts.
You know he loves you and you love him.
He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul.
He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.
You are tired of fighting for the both of you.
You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”
“I'm leaving.”
“Do you need someone to accompany you?”
“No, thank you.”
“Someone could follow you,” he counters.
“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”
You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist.
None of this happens.
The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.
Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed
Archive tag: @pedrostories
If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎
#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña smut#jolapenosdearuary#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña x female reader#javier peña#narcos au#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#ppcu#pedro pascal characters fanfiction
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please tell us about alysannejonquil..... you've intrigued me
ok so. jonquil is utterly totally irrevocably devoted to alysanne. her very shadow. nothing is more important to jonquil than alysanne. alysanne is the maiden made flesh. alysanne is a true princess a true queen the most beautiful the most kind the most gentle.
alysanne loves jaehaerys with all her heart, he is her soul she is his heart. she also loves jonquil, as her truest friend. she's like her hand; an undeniable part of herself. alysanne could be bisexual if she knew that existed but truly has no thoughts on this matter.
jonquil knows she is a lesbian and can identify her sexuality. she is also a bastard daughter and a woman knight. she can never be a true daughter nor a true knight.
there relationship is one of meaningful touches, where it is thoughtless and whole-heartedly given by alysanne and obsessed over and greedily, starvingly kept by jonquil. an empathetic pat on the knee. braiding jonquil's hair so it's out of the way. tying the ribbons on alysanne's dress.
alysanne says oh you are my jonquil then i must be your florian. jonquil is gripping her sword white-knuckled. haha yes your grace of course your grace. jonquil thinks about alysanne the maiden in the pool the true jonquil.
alysanne is 15 when the attack at maidenpool happens and i like jonquil at 18 because it mirrors brienne and it means she did her mystery knight tourney at 16 like lyanna. they grow up together. jonquil is beside her for the births of all her children, from daenerys to gael.
jonquil sees the king and hates. and then she repents, because he is the king and if alysanne is the mother then he is the father made flesh. but he puts alysanne in that birthing bed and makes her bloody and still alysanne loves him still alysanne praises him for giving her children.
ok dramatic prose over it got too much. anyway i think jonquil is sort of a weird aunt figure in the lives of alysanne's kids. she's literally been there since birth. ill put her opinions on the kids below the cut. i think alyssa, saera and viserra specifically all catch on and identify exactly what jonquil's deal is and i do believe they each tease and harass her over this. alyssa in a fun and flirty way, saera in a pointed and cruel way, viserra in a simultaneously careless and egomaniac way.
jonquil being the one who physically restrains saera and forces her to watch jaehaerys behead her lovers. Layers. layers to this. saera is an insult to her mother a wicked wicked girl. jaehaerys IS the father IS the king. alysanne must be protected.
jonquil loves the order jonquil loves the system. she believes herself an aberrance and repents over this.
also i think jonquil would get jealous when gael becomes alysanne's bedmate. layers layers layers. she liked daenerys because daenerys died before she could become a disappointment.
i want jonquil surviving alysanne and sticking around at court. like barristan. a shadow once more. i want her to see alicent. i want her to see another faithful girl in the flower of her youth caring for jaehaerys and jaehaerys mistaking her for his daughters for saera. i want to see it. she has a stroke and dies at a sept lying at the foot of the maiden. or mother idk could be either.
i dont like alyquil ever consummate. i mean i can enjoy thinking about it but like in this timeline/au/interpretation of canon/fanon whatever i think its not unrequited its just unconsummated. jonquil knows alysanne could love her, does love her, doesnt understand sexuality, but she could never. but she wants to. and has to apologise to the gods about it.
DAENERYS - cute kid, dies young so jonquil never has to see her become a wicked sort of woman
AEMON + BAELON - she cant tell the difference between them. they are their father's sons. they will be her king one day. Layers.
ALYSSA - i like to think she taught alyssa some swordfighting since alyssa is mentioned as playing with wooden swords as a kid. jonquil has complex feelings on alyssa's early non-conforming gender stuff. i think alyssa genuinely likes jonquil but also likes teasing and flirting with her. unlike her mother alyssa can identify her bisexuality. when alyssa settles down (with her brother) and becomes a good wife (to her brother) jonquil is like. im not going to think about this more than i have to. she is a little disgusted and then feels disgusted for feeling disgusted because aly and jae are sister and brother and aly can do no wrong which means to feel disgusted is to make aly less of an ethereal angel. is broken up by alyssa's death, never wants to think about it ever again.
MAEGELLE - the other good daughter. chose the order chose the system. kind and gentle and sweet like alysanne. faithful and good.
VAEGON - just kind of weird. doesnt like fighting doesnt like fucking. does not entirely fit his assigned gender role, which jonquil should relate to but she's not ready for that cognitive dissonance.
DAELLA - the last of the good daughters. jonquil thinks she's a weakling but then repents for thinking that because women are supposed to be weaklings. sad for alysanne when she dies.
SAERA - the wicked evil WHORE of a daughter. a demon who is a stain on her angel of a mother. of course she turned to prostitution. saera for sure was sexually harassing jonquil cos she thought it was funny. definitely like "awww mummy isnt gonna fuck you but you can settle for me ;)" and jonquil is like. im going to fall on my own sword.
VISERRA - another disappointment daughter. im not sure if i want to go full jaehaerys-abused-his-daughters in this but like. idk your mileage may vary. but no matter what jonquil is still going to be a little misogyinst about it and judge her drinking judge her self destruction. jonquil may hate jaehaerys but if alysanne loves jaehaerys than jaehaerys can therefore do no wrong sort of thing.
GAEMON + VALERION - the kids themselves dont matter but the difficult labours that alysanne went through definitely affect jonquil. she gives the king the silent treatment for a while. curses him and then repents over it and doesnt feel guilty and has to repent again.
GAEL - good daughter, in a way, but jonquil has deep jealousy over how alysanne finds comfort in her. when gael gets doomed jonquil is, deep down, a little relieved and happy because alysanne finds comfort in jonquil once more. lots of praying over that one.
bonus
AEMMA ARRYN - she likes aemma because aemma is nice and gentle and kind (just like alysanne therefore good. a worthy inheritor of queenship) + born from one of the good daugthers
DAEMON - she looks at him and sees saera
RHAENICENT - her head explodes about this
#tw weird targ dynamics#tw jaehaerys csa mention#this is a dramatic adaptation of my DMs with tyriongirl. we went a little crazy about alyquil a few days ago#sorry for the long post dude there's so much alyquil in my head#alyquil#jonquil darke#alysanne targaryen#Anonymous#ask
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[Updates Part 4]
22 November 2024
We are deprived and dying from the cold. Winter has come again, our favorite season. We have become unbearable because water enters us while we sleep. Throughout the night, I did not sleep an eye as I monitored the water and prevented it from entering the tent Please help us
22 November 2024
Today we are without bread and the queues at the bakery are beyond imagination and the children are crying because there is no bread. Night falls upon us in the tents and the cold eats us up because there is no flour. If it is available, the price of a bag today has exceeded $300. And the price of blankets has also exceeded $100 for each light blanket. We do not know what to do. Please save us and donation more
22 November 2024
Have you ever tried sleeping outdoors? We are still in dire need and we are still dying on a daily basis Every donation makes a difference for us
23 November 2024
The famine is still ravaging us Today we were standing in line at the bakery since 4 am As a result of the crowding and pushing, a severe dispute broke out between two families and reached the point of physical assault The two parties did not remain silent and one of them pulled out a weapon and killed 4 people Three women and a man No one remained at the door of the bakery My children and my elderly father were waiting impatiently for me to enter with bread We do not know what to do. Two days have passed without them eating even a piece of bread. Please help us
23 November 2024
Very important Here is an update on food prices here in the Gaza Strip Dated 11/23/2024 Not to mention the unavailability of the most important thing, which is bread, as its price today has reached $300 A person who supports a number of people cannot and does not have the strength to do so alone We are in dire straits and do not know what to do
24 November 2024
In the picture, there is a list of prices in Gaza for basic food items, 24/11/2024 most of which are not available, and if they are available, they are very expensive.
25 November 2024
Words & pictures are unable to describe the painful, oppressive, humiliating & terrifying life we have reached. All we want from you is to support us. Allah will show mercy to those who show mercy.
25 November 2024
My daughter Joan has been suffering from severe intestinal flu for two days. There are no medications and there is no clean environment. She is very sick and cannot bear the illness because of her illness when she was young, esophageal reflux, from which she recovered shortly before the war. There are no medications and the treatment that is supposed to be distributed for free today costs more than 50 euros. Please do not abandon us, we are in dire need.
29 November 2024
Urgent and cannot tolerate any delay Due to the severe cold and after the continuation of the low pressure system that is still affecting the Gaza Strip All members of my family are sick I need to buy more blankets so that we do not shiver with cold The cost of these blankets exceeds 2000 euros We are really in dire need
1 December 2024
My Daughter, Joan, Is 6 Years Old She Needs Urgent Surgery I Hope You Can Help Us The cost of the surgery is $2,000. I collect 700/2000 Please stand with me more
2 December 2024
After doing an endoscopy on my 6 year old daughter, the doctors decided that she has a hole in her stomach and therefore she needs prescriptions on a weekly basis. All this happened as a result of malnutrition and polluted water. And unfortunately I say that on a monthly basis the cost of these prescriptions exceeds $1800. Stand by my daughter and my family, we are in dire need.
5 December 2024
My children deserve the beat. They can’t stand Hunger. Donate!!
[More in Updates Part 5]
6-year-old Joan Al-Habil is has been repeatedly hospitalized due to severe gastrointestinal problems and overwhelming fatigue. This poor girl has been to multiple facilities and seen multiple doctors, undergone extensive testing (as extensive as is possible in Gaza's collapsed medical system), even having to endure an unsedated endoscopy.
She has now been diagnosed with severe gastritis due to starvation and hazardous living conditions. Remember, she and her family are living on the streets, which are cold and wet due to winter rain. Homelessness, stress, exposure to the elements, her previous injury when the lOF firebombed her tent, and malnutrition all conspire to sap little Joan of her strength.
Her condition is so serious that she even had to undergo surgery. Gastritis very rarely requires surgery to treat, so this is an indication of how dire her condition is. The surgery was successful to a degree, but she is going to need ongoing treatment to manage her symptoms.
The treatments are administered weekly and cost $500 USD (just under €500 EUR). Her family has no income and cannot afford this. If Joan goes more than a few days without treatment, her symptoms worsen rapidly, and she sometimes has to be hospitalized. It is vital that we help her family procure her treatments so that her condition does not worsen!
You can help Joan get her surgery and treatment by
reblogging this post
copy-pasting this link (https:// gofund.me/85a1b400) in your own Tumblr posts and all across your social media accounts to share her family’s story
boosting posts from her parents @mahafamily1 and @ahmed-family-1
donating to her family’s GFM campaign below
Current: €22,271 EUR
New temporary goal: €22,771 EUR
Need to raise: about €500 EUR ($500 USD)
#Palestine#Gaza#charity#donate#money#medical aid#emergency aid#gfm#gofundme#genocide#ethnic cleansing
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Squid Game
THE SEARCH: Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader
Summary: The search for Gi-hun takes its toll on her. Luckily, someone's there to help.
Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I may have made while I wrote this short story.
Warnings: swearing, mentioned death and guns, mentioned and/or referenced trauma and PTSD
●●●
She was dreaming again - that was the reason why she tried to avoid sleep ever since Gi-hun went missing.
--because she was always dreaming about him: him dying, him being alone, him being scared after all that trauma... And her dreams always pointed out her self-blaming - she wasn't supposed to leave him alone, she should be there with him...
Her dreams were troubled once again - with nightmares. She was dreaming about Gi-hun and the marble game, which he failed so he could save another player's life...
That was another reason why she was scared for Gi-hun: because she knew his own life wasn't important to him anymore. She knew it, because she felt the same way.
She woke up to someone shaking her awake. She felt hands grabbing her shoulders, she heard a voice calling out for her - yet she couldn't identify the person; not immediatelly anyway.
Tears were running down her face, blinding her; she could barely breathe; and she could still hear gunshots even though she was no longer asleep.
"Y/N..." she heard her name once more, this time clearer. "You're alright. It was just a dream. Y/N, can you hear me?"
She was shaking - God, she was shaking so badly she barely knew where she was or who she was.
Still, one of those hands gently touched her face, turning her head so her eyes could meet someone else's.
Her lips started to tremble.
"You're okay now. You're awake."
Her fingers wrapped themselves around the hand on her face.
"Jun-ho?"
Reality suddenly hit her and she could feel shame climb up her throat.
She stared into his eyes as he nodded, his lips curled upwards into a faint smile. She swallowed hard as she let go of his hand. Her fingers were still trembling, but she put her hands down and pushed herself upwards into a sitting position. Her blanket fell onto her lap.
"What time is it?" she asked quietly as she raked her fingers through her hair.
"It's almost midnight." Jun-ho said as he grabbed a water bottle from the small desk in the corner of the cabin; he gave it to her, then joined her on the floor.
As she drank she slowly looked around.
They were alone, although she could hear the henchmen, Woo-seok and Captain Park talk outside.
They were probably fishing, she thought. They needed something to do and the Captain needed a distraction after she almost punched him. He would've deserved it though, since he didn't want to look for the damn island late at night. He really should've said a thank you to Jun-ho, because he was the only reason why he didn't get a black eye.
As she put the bottle aside she noted a map and a marker on the desk, under the light of a flashlight. Jun-ho must've been working on finding the island and Gi-hun, when he noticed her trembling in the corner. She was really thankful for his help: for waking her up and for the search.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked as she pointed at the map. "I could've helped."
"Because Woo-seok said you are barely sleeping." Jun-ho looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "And I agree with him."
She didn't want to meet his gaze.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not." he argued and he sounded like a parent who's about to scold a child. "You barely eat, you barely sleep... I know you want to find Gi-hun more than anything, but you need your strength for it."
Her fingertips started to play with the edges of the blanket. She didn't say anything - she didn't know what to say.
Jun-ho was right, of course he was; but it was impossible to eat and sleep peacefully when guilt and fear was killing her from inside.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"About what?" she asked.
"You know what."
She knew - of course she did.
The nightmare was still being replayed in her head, again and again. She could see Gi-hun losing all ten of the marbles, she could hear the gunshots...
One of her hands shakily reached up to wipe away the tears.
When she took too long to answer, Jun-ho turned to look at her, and seeing her crying again made him regret his question.
"I'm sorry... we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." his hand landed on her thigh and before he could pull it away, her hand was on his.
She look up at him, her eyes glassy and her lips once again trembling.
"I dreamt that he died." she said after she swallowed. "That's all I can think about - what if he's dead? He's playing those stupid games again and I'm not there..." her voice sounded angry as she spat those last few words. "I'm not there with him and we promised, we promised that we'd never leave each other..." she took a deep breath. "Gi-hun saved my fucking life more times than I can count. And now I failed him... I'm failing him every single moment when I'm not with him." the tears were burning her cheeks as they ran down her face and landed on the blanket. "Why can't it be me who's in there..."
She was full on crying by then, her body was shaking.
It was a pain so deep and unbearable... And nothing could help. Her heart ached, her whole being felt numb and heavy.
She just wanted it to end - all of it.
Jun-ho let go of her thigh and put both of his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. He made her look him in the eyes.
"Don't say that..." he put some locks of hair behind her ears and then went back to wiping away the tears - since they just didn't want to stop falling. "It's not your fault. None of it. You had no way of knowing what would happen at that party."
Gi-hun didn't let her go in with him. He wanted her to stay in the car with Jun-ho. He wanted her out of danger's way.
She should've fought harder.
"And you didn't fail him..."
"Yes, I did!" she shouted. "I fucking did..."
Jun-ho held onto her tightly, not letting her wiggle away until he was sure she's fine.
"You played Russian roulette for him!" he argued.
She just blinked in surprise.
That was how she met him again - Jun-ho. He wanted to arrest her after she won the game of Russian roulette against the Salesman. And later, when Gi-hun arrived he almost shot Jun-ho for keeping her in cuffs.
"You played Russian roulette, so that guy - that Salesman - wouldn't go after him." Jun-ho repeated. "You didn't fail him. And he knows that. He almost shot me for you."
She continued to cry quietly and he let her. He let her cry it out as he pulled her close, so she could hide her face in the crook of his neck.
She wrapped her arms around him, letting the blanket fall between them, since she finally had someone to talk to, to be honest with. Someone who understood the concept of loss and uncertainity.
"Thank you..." she whispered as she felt his fingers massage her scalp.
"It's nothing." he said. "And I promise you that we'll find him. Okay?" he felt her nod so he continued: "But I need you to get some sleep for that."
"I'll try." she mumbled.
They changed positions. Jun-ho leaned against the wooden wall of the cabin, while she rested her head on his shoulder. Their knees were touching, and she was sure it had been a while since she felt this kind of comfort.
Right then, she needed him.
Her crying slowly died down and she felt like she could both breathe and think again.
"Jun-ho?"
"What's wrong?" she found the panic in his voice adorable - and it felt great to know that someone cared.
"Nothing's wrong, I just... never really apologized for handcuffing you to the bathtub."
She felt his chest rise as he began to laugh, and the sudden change of mood in the cabin felt nice.
"I handcuffed you first. You have nothing to apologize for."
She felt a small smile tugging at her lips.
"I also apologize for accusing you of being one of Them; and for trying to shoot you." she said as she remembered him sitting in the bathtub as she pointed his own gun at him.
Jun-ho chuckled. "I kind of did those first too."
She couldn't help herself - a small, barely there chuckle left her mouth too.
"Well then... thank you, for being here."
Jun-ho didn't answer for a while and she felt ashamed for being so outspoken. Yet a few seconds later he kissed her forehead and she felt a rush of sudden heat run through her whole body.
"Of course, I'll always be here - if you need anything..."
Jun-ho continued to stroke her head; gentle touches caressing her scalp, her neck and then later on: her back. Slowly but surely her eyelids became heavier and heavier - until she fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
Tomorrow she'd wake up with her head on Jun-ho's chest - and somehow her blanket would be over them, keeping them warm.
Tomorrow she'd wake up with a slight feeling of shame, yet she'd have a new reason to keep on going for.
Tomorrow Woo-seok would give her an all-smile thumbs up.
Tomorrow she'd continue the search with a new amount of hope, knowing she has someone who'll help her every step of the way...
#squid game x reader#squid game x fem!reader#hwang jun ho x reader#hwang jun ho x fem!reader#alessiathepirate#jun ho x reader#jun ho x fem!reader
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Message From Spirit Animals 🐢💚🌳
Pick A Pile Tarot
(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)
Hello, lovely Senstea Souls!💟
I hope you're all doing well. This is another collective tarot reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.
If you wish to book a tarot reading with me then I'm mentioning the links for the same below:
Booking Form • Rate Card
🐢💚🌳🐢💚🌳🐢💚🌳
Pile 1
You're in your feels pile 1. Trust me, the pain is in the past. And you know that. Some of you are allowing yourself to feel grief for one last time.
Stingray💚: You've made some right choices over and over again. Good job on standing firm on your beliefs and boundaries. A celebration is coming your way as you're manifesting something new. You've never experienced this kind of blessing in the past, but you've definitely wished for it. You've become a magnet for aligned opportunities/communication, and I know you don't see it manifested in your reality yet, but it's approaching you very soon. Like, VERY soon.
Frog💚: This spirit animal wants you to fully step into your power. Don't run away from feeling too deep, as this time you won't drown. It seems that you've got your feet in two different worlds because you don't want to let go of your safety net. If you don't let go, you won't fully be able to experience your blessings. Trust the cosmos.
Dragonfly💚: You're too busy finding faults, and Dragonfly wants you to look at the brighter side of things. Your life was meant to unfold the way it did. Nothing more could be done. Rather than changing your story, accept it. Honor it. Find meaning in your journey. Don't blame yourself or anybody for how it panned out.
Overall message🌳: You understand that you're yearning for something that makes you feel the lack of it, and you know this isn't helping. Stop looking at things from thousands of angles and finding ways that life will never favor you. Don't sabotage yourself into believing you've a long way to go. No, you don't. You've come a long way. It's time for you to let go of the old version of you completely and let this new version shine bright.
Pile 2
This pile reminds me of freedom. Your energy is so well put. This powerful person you've turned into is all due to the pain you've gone through. You have gone through some major endings in the past. For some of you, it's regarding a person, so if you still wonder if the story is over? Your answer is yes, it's over.
Camel💚: Water is important for you. I feel that you've got a lot of heat in your body and even rage. You're peaceful unless provoked. You're self-reliant and self-sufficient. The camel is here to remind you that you may have had to go through some major challenges for years, but it takes you only a few weeks to recover from them. Do you see that??? Isn't that beautiful? You guys are quick learners. I feel some of you were with someone for years but fell out of love as soon as you saw how incompatible you two were. It took you some time, though. Anyway, you're shining, pile 2. You're glowing. Just stay hydrated to glow even more!
Gazelle💚: Gazelle wants to tell you that it's so proud of you for turning your pain into wisdom. It wasn't easy for you to isolate yourself with the abandonment wound you had. But you did it. Gazelle wants you to never look back at all, as you've already learned your lessons. There's no more to learn. It's time you eat well. I hear something about weight loss. Maybe you've lost weight or want to lose weight. It's time you take care of your body and move it a little. I hear, “graceful moves.” Try slow dancing or yoga. As you're a sensitive being, you need some extra care. And hey, “the old chapter's been burned.” Move on happily.
Firefly💚: Here I feel that your intuition is trying to tell you something, but you're blocking it. You're emotionally intelligent but do have a bit of trust issues because of your past (not gonna blame you, though). There's silence between you and someone you're meant to be with. Maybe you know them or don't know them at all (it seems that you've met them in your past life). Another thing that I'm seeing here is that you're still figuring out what you were made for. You're being encouraged to restart working on an old passion. This is a gift that you just couldn't work on because of mental blockages. But it's changing now.
Overall message🌳: Your wisdom isn't dangerous; it's powerful. I watched a movie yesterday, and there was a beautiful dialogue in it that goes like this: “Your difference is your POWER!” Do not be afraid to stand out and speak your truth. If you keep doing what the whole world is doing, then you'll lose your essence. An exciting new beginning is headed your way after what you lost. And it's happening all because you have been doing well in the school of life.
Pile 3
As you've surrendered by being backstabbed in ways you never imagined, do you realize that you pushed too hard to make something work? However, the universe is about to return the rewards of your efforts from a different source.
Black Egg💚: I know it feels like your prayers are not being answered. Things have been moving slowly, and there has been slow progress materially. It's because you doubt your work, especially your words. It's time to trust in your age-old wisdom and not look for validation from the outside world. You've got a lot to be grateful for; you just need to shift your focus from what isn't working out to what is. Talk to yourself about it and be honest.
Cosmic Egg💚: In slowness you channel the wisdom from the ethers. You have access to an abundance of knowledge. Allow your lower chakras to accept and trust the messages you receive. Go slow and be patient; you're about to be massively blessed. If water comes with force, it will cause havoc; similarly, the more you rush, the more you mess up. If the flow of water is slow and steady, it's going to help nourish the mother earth. The universe has something special to gift you and bless you with. You deserve it. Also, spend more time in nature.
Beaver💚: Water and Earth are prominent in your reading. Financial blessings are coming your way. Your heart will feel satisfied with what you're about to receive. What you're about to receive is going to be your justice. As you've been at the rock bottom, you deserve to be at the top too because you never gave up! You've been doing what you felt was your calling and what the universe wanted you to do. Not a lot of people care about their purpose but their sense of security. If you did what the universe told you to or allowed the cosmos to have control of your life while you focused on your karma, then you're about to receive what you deserve. Everything is going to balance out. If you've been looking for a home or a place for yourself, you'll have enough to afford it.
Overall Message🌳: The tough cycle has ended. It's time for you to receive your blessings as you've learned enough by spiraling from lesson to lesson. Bees may be significant for you. Some of you may have been as busy as a bee.
#pick a pile tarot#pick a card#tarot card reader#tarot readings#tarotblr#pick a pile#tarotcommunity#pick a pile reading#message for the collective#psychic readings#psychic tarot#intuitive readings#message from spirit#spirit animal#intuitive messages#tarot reading
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Gap Filler (3)
Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of calling someone daddy (nothing happens)
A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.
Gap Filler (2)
“Baby? Y/N? Please open the door. The cactus is an aggressive beast. It tries to poke holes into my chest. The orchid, well, it won’t make it if it stays with me. You know I’m not good with soft things.”
Walter listens closely, hoping you’ll open the door and let him explain things to you.
“Go away,” you growl on the other side of the door. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”
He sighs deeply. “Y/N, I know I fucked up big time, but please believe me, I love you. Rachel doesn’t mean anything to me. I lied to hurt you.” He sniffs. “I know it was stupid and selfish of me. It’s just… a woman left me for a job before.”
“Do not use your broken heart crap to excuse that you broke my heart!” You kick the door and curse his name. “Now get off my lawn.”
Walter chuckles. “Uh—your doormat is green, but I don’t think it counts as a lawn.” He comments as you throw insults at him. “Please open the door,” Walter whispers now. “Your neighbor is about to call the cops.”
“You’re a cop too,” you bite back. “Get your badge out and tell them to get fucked! "Annoying assholes!”
“Baby, open the door,” he murmurs your name, pleading with you to let him in. “Do not make me raise my voice.”
You snort. “As if you’d dare to raise your voice, Marshall. I’d love to see you try, fucker!”
“Stop swearing so much in front of our baby!” He tuts. “I can still kick the door open.”
“I don’t think so,” you snort. “It’s a reinforced door. Good luck breaking your back, old man!”
“Old man?” Walter hiccups. “Last time, you called me daddy because of the gray in my beard.”
“Marshall!” You rip the door open to size Walter up. “What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’d never call you that.” Wrinkling your nose, you huff. “That’s just ewww…”
He smirks as you realize your mistake. “Hah, it worked.” Before you can close the door, he stands in the door frame, keeping you from shutting the door again. “Y/N, please talk to me. I won’t go away, and it’s your fault if the poor plants die.”
You glance at the cactus pressed to his chest and the poor orchid he’s about to strangle. “Fine, give me the plants, but you can go home.”
Snatching the orchid out of his hands, you keep an eye on Walter.
“Baby, please let’s talk. I don’t want to go home knowing I lost you forever only because I was a fool,” he murmurs your pet name and gives you puppy dog eyes.
“No, this won’t work on me any longer. You hurt me to feel better.” You angrily wipe your eyes. “You told me you want to be with Rachel because you knew this is my worst fear coming true. How could I ever trust you again, or believe that you love me, Walter?
Walter drops his head and nods. “I used your fear against you. This is unforgivable.” He feels like the worst person ever as you look at him with teary eyes. “I let my hurt pride and feelings get the best out of me.”
“That’s no excuse for abandoning and hurting me. I admitted years ago that I’m scared of losing you to Rachel if she ever comes back. And you,” you growl at him, “used it against me.”
He nods slowly. “I knew the moment your luck was more important to me than mine that I was in love with you. When I got to know that they offered a better position to you, my worst fear came true. I couldn’t bear hearing you say that you will leave me.”
“Even if I’d have considered taking the position—” you sniffle. “Do you honestly believe I would have left you? I would have asked you to come with me, if possible. If not, I’d declined their offer.”
Walter stares at you, eyes filled with unshed tears. You have never seen him cry before. Not in all the years you know him.
“Fine, close the door and give me that cactus before you kill it for real…”
Tags in reblog.
#walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#walter marshall x you#walter marshall x y/n#x reader#Gap Filler (3)
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this hit me really hard
because yeah, with how determined these massive companies seem to be to turn any publicly available art into their private property to throw into their AI and make tons of money because people want so badly for art and media-making to be this low-value skill.
and like...idk about you but it feels like we're stuck between not wanting to get burned by this and protect our work and yet also wanting to not surrender to this wave of pressure on artists
for me, I've started using glaze + nightshade and watermarking the hell out of some of my stuff where it's posted (ESPECIALLY on sites that I know are feeding everything posted there to AI). Like watermarks that are designed to be visual noise and obnoxious over the whole piece but you can still see what's going on
I don't think this is a guarantee that it'll keep your stuff completely out of AI, but I'm afraid that the only way to actually manage that would be to just...never show your work in any venue ever. which is not why I learned to actually get whats in my imagination out on paper or a digital canvas
PLUS, plus!! I recall seeing someone in the notes mentioning that glaze is looking into versions that can be used on video, which makes sense and I HOPE that this is true and it's released soon!! (up til now for my animations I've been using glaze and nightshade on my watermarks and importing them in over my animations)
but for the meantime, obnoxious watermarks will at least deter people from uploading AND being able to use art in an AI dataset
Hey all, just an update:
I will attempt to keep my words brief, so please bear with me.
the film is done, the sound is basically all there. Just some final professional mixing to do.
I'm not sure how I feel about releasing the film or any more personal artwork. it has become crystal clear how much artists are despised at large by a society that wants what artist's can create but is offended at the idea of an artist making a descent living off of their craft.
I'm not sure at this point that publishing any more personal artwork is doing anything more than training pattern learning AI models for company owners and business centric suits.
Still undecided what to do with the film since it did take roughly 10 years to make, but It is also only important to me and it will realistically not leave a lasting impression, so it really has already served its purpose.
Will update when I've made up my mind about the film, I just thought you all deserved an explanation as to why the film is still unreleased.
Thanks for supporting me for so long. Really appreciated it all.
#thoughts on AI#man i hate this stuff. i hate it so much you guys#like it so fucking soul-withering to look at how many people DEMAND free access to what we make because they feel entitled to it but also#act like wanting compensation so we have the time/security to actually MAKE THE THINGS is some audacious outrageous overreach >:[#like BITCH#IF U WANT TO LIVE IN A WORLD WHERE U NEVER OWE ANYONE ANYTHING FOR THEIR TIME#THEN GO RIP UR CLOTHES OFF AND GO LIVE A HUNTER-GATHERER LIFESTYLE IN A CAVE SOMEWHERE#we're trying to have a fucking functional society here that makes space for people to be creative cuz humans LIKE doing that!!!!!#ARAARARARAGHGGHHG#anyways yea
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hi there! hope you’re well! ok real talk, lu strikes me as someone who has never been in love, but craves that intimacy with someone. i know a lot of ppl like to speculate that maybe he just wasn’t into looking for romance, and sure, maybe he wasn’t actively seeking persay, but he did seem to be someone who was actively looking for more emotional bonds. i mean, when you look at some of the things he would do for his friends (heck even acquaintances) like gift giving, buying them lunch, trying to buy 400 copies of a book, a subscription service, it’s like his act of service of gift giving as a way to connect and form bonds. and this is just with people he wanted friendship/mentorship with. imagine with a woman he truly connected with? he might actually be too intense in that respect haha but really wanting to please - I just wonder if his expectations for romance were too high because he knew the moment he fell for someone, he’d be too all in. he did mention in his notes that he has an addictive personality (which has a whole set of connotations in a romantic relationship but I won’t get into that now haha)
I completely agree with all of this. He also strikes me as someone who has never been in love, who maybe wasn’t actively seeking a romantic relationship and dating, but he likes the idea of love and what it feels like—pointing to the different ways that he emotionally connects and forms bonds with the closest people in his life, and those that he isn’t even close with, but for some reason, he feels that sort of closeness as he is a giving, compassionate person and likes to feel that gratification from making people happy and feel important. So for him, there’s more than just romantic love that feels nice and satisfying, as there’s several other types.
I wonder if he developed platonic relationships/bonds with people, those involving women. If he knew that he wasn’t necessarily ready for dating, or had that self-awareness—there’s no doubt that he was heavily self-disciplined and percipient about himself and his personality, then he could still seek out those feelings in other forms of appreciating and loving those close to him. It is, in fact, to love hard without it being romantically.
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WIP Wednesday
Thank you for the tags @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @everlastingday @henrygrass @nisbanisba @whatsintheboxmh @alrightbuckaroo @carlossreaders
An idea for a future/Jonah fic merged with Ranch Fic which I believed I've shared a bit of before. It won't leave my head. Here is a snippet from a chapter in which Jonah starts preschool and brings home a gift in the form a stomach bug they all get to take their turn with. Look how happy the little guy is with himself.
Thus this snippet is also me jumping aboard the Carlos Sickfic train whoo Niz you're still the captain and the driver I'm just joining the ride for a bit! Warnings for descriptions of nausea and a mention of throwing up but no more than those exact words.
He kind of wants to check in on Jonah and TK, wants to say goodbye to Jonah before he leaves for half the day but his eyelids are already drooping and the nausea still sits on the edge of his consciousness. He feels like he has a small window of time wherein if he just moves very little and goes to sleep soon he might be able to skip the next bout of nausea.
His wish is granted anyway as the bedroom door opens, Jonah entering first along with TK’s voice reminding him to be gentle, TK himself emerging last.
“He wanted to show you the dragon he chose,” TK says as Jonah climbs carefully up the bed to sit next to Carlos.
“Hey Jonah," Carlos says, fighting to keep his eyes open as he pushes Jonah’s bangs away from his forehead. He’s gonna need a haircut again soon. “Did you choose a good one?”
“Look!” Jonah says, pulling at the hem of his shirt and puffing his chest out, proudly showcasing the pink dragon on the front.
“Wow, mijo, that’s a really good choice,” Carlos says, making Jonah beam up at TK at the confirmation that they chose right.
“Are you gonna wear your pajamas to work, Carlos?” Jonah parrots TK from earlier. He does that a lot these days. Sometimes it makes him say weirdly wise things that sound way too adult coming from his four year old voice which always makes Carlos laugh.
“Carlos gets to stay home and sleep some more, because he’s sick, remember? Just like you stayed home when you were sick.”
“Did you throw up?” Jonah asks, turning to Carlos with wide eyes. He looks a mix between concerned and intrigued.
“Yeah, but just like you I’ll feel better again in no time,” Carlos reassures with a out upon smile. He hopes he's right.
“Do you want an ice pop?” Jonah asks, remembering that had made him feel better.
“Maybe later,” Carlos smiles at him. “But that was a nice thought, mijo. Thank you.”
Jonah looks like he’s thinking hard trying to come up with something else that will magically heal Carlos. He’s so sweet and caring, just like his brother. TK interrupts him before he can suggest any more remedies, heartwarming as they are.
“Okay, buddy,” TK says. “Time for breakfast I think, so we can get to preschool on time.”
“Can we make omelets?” Jonah asks, sufficiently distracted. Carlos usually lets him ‘help’ when he makes omelets in the morning and Jonah loves being delegated with small but very important tasks.
TK chuckles. “Sure. I don’t know if I can make them as good as Carlos though,” he says. “You’ll have to ask him for the secret ingredient.”
“What’s the secret ingredient Carlos?”
Another time Carlos will tell Jonah how to make his favorite omelet, but right now Carlos can’t bear the thought of pronouncing the word of any food related item. “Love,” he says instead, ruffling Jonah’s hair, trying not to show that even the act of lifting his arm feels like a tremendous effort. Jonah frowns for a moment before he giggles like Carlos just said a super silly thing.
“Love? You can’t put love in an omelet Carlos!”
“Sure you can,” Carlos says. “You just have to make the omelet for someone you love and that’s how you put love into it.” He doesn’t know where the spontaneous pocket philosophy comes from and he hopes he hasn’t made a mistake in case the omelet TK and Jonah whip up for some reason isn’t to Jonah’s liking.
Kids don’t think that deep, he tells himself. Jonah will probably have forgotten about it in the time it takes them to go from the bedroom to the kitchen. And besides he fully trusts TK’s abilities when it comes to cooking.
His jumbled overthinking is interrupted by Jonah making his heart grow two sizes and do a little dance in his chest. “Then we have to make some for Carlos too TK! So we can put love in it!”
Unfortunately his stomach seems inspired by his heart to start matching its little dance routine. Thinking anymore about omelets, let alone one being made for him that he has to eat, isn’t helping. He feels his little window of time starting to close as the nausea begins tauntingly closing back in on him. Luckily TK seems to read it on his face. Or maybe he’s just turning visibly green.
“We’ll make some for him to save for later,” he says. Planting a soft kiss to Carlos forehead he tells him “You should try to finish that glass of water though, if you can. I’ll bring you a new one before we leave.”
Turning back to Jonah he says more loudly, "Now, can you say bye to Carlos so we can let him sleep?” to Carlos he says softly “You look ready to, baby.”
Carlos only hums in response.
Jonah rises up from his knees on the bed, putting him at eye level with Carlos as he wraps his little arms around his neck. “Bye, Carlos. Feel better,” he says before turning back to TK, putting his arms in the air to be lifted off the bed.
Carlos musters his last energy for a sincere “Bye Jonah. I love you,” But Jonah has apparently already moved on, or rather back to discussing what to put into the omelet, beside love.
“And ham,” he says as TK lifts him under the armpits and sets him back on the floor.
“And cheese!” he says, “And eggs and pepper and-”
“Okay buddy,” TK interrupts quickly, sending Carlos an apologetic wince before quickly ushering Jonah out of the bedroom, as he keeps listing ingredients.
Once the door is closed behind them, Carlos takes a few steadying breaths, the nausea thankfully retreating back to the peripherals. Having learned to listen to TK when it comes to medical advice, he sips the water until the glass is almost empty before he gingerly lays down, foregoing his own freshly clean pillowcase in favor of TK’s, and pulling their shared blanket up and over his body. He shifts a little to make himself as comfortable as he can and then closes his eyes.
He doesn’t hear when TK creeps in half an hour later to replace the near empty glass of water, or the front door opening and closing as they leave to drop Jonah off at preschool.
OPEN TAG
And tagging @herefortarlos @emsprovisions @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @ironheartwriter
@bonheur-cafe @ladytessa74 @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @lemonlyman-dotcom
@rangersoup @theghostofashton @everlastingday @henrygrass
@freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 @carlossreaders @chicgeekgirl89
@the-126-family @goodways @carlos-in-glasses @whatsintheboxmh @tailoredshirt
@nisbanisba @nancys-braids @your-catfish-friend @rmd-writes @goldenskykaysani
@captain-gillian @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye
@carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @pimento-playing-hopscotch @firstprince-history-huh @thisbuildinghasfeelings
@never-blooms @lightningboltreader @welcometololaland
I finally made a taglist so lmk if you want to be removed from it or added to it!:)
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Hannibal & Fashion I
How to dress like: Hannibal Lecter (but feminine) > An explanation to the essentials and character of his iconic style.
We all know that Hannibal is nothing short of an absolute fashion icon. His outfits are always perfect, down to the details. He knows how to blend shape, colour and patterns in an old-fashioned yet innovative way like no other. Which is, for many, very refreshing in a world of hoodies and light wash jeans.
For Hannibal's style there are a few key characteristics I had to keep in mind. If I had to describe his style in a few words, I would say it's elegant, sharp, formal, expressive and aristocratic.
All his suits, shirts, trousers, are perfectly tailored. He pays a lot of attention to silhouette and the way his clothes accentuate the lines of his body. His suits have a sharp and intimidating yet smooth and refined shape. The shoulders, trouser-legs and ratio of his ties, waistcoats and lapels are geometric. They are razor-sharp, while around his waist and thighs the suits are much softer. They draw attention to his body. Hannibal is a proud man who isn't afraid to show his good qualities off. His body is one of those and isn't afraid to get his clothes perfectly fitted, so that they reveal everything and nothing at the same time.
Hannibal isn't afraid to incorporate feminine touches into his outfits, so I imagine if it were to be the other way around, there would have to be traditionally masculine touches like suits, overcoats and old school uniform-ish aspects.
Inspo:
So, if you want to copy his silhouette, it's important to work with the ABAB ratio, as I like to call it. Wide at the shoulders, tight at the waist, wide at the hips and slim from legs down. The contrast between a refined waist and a top that's big, pointy or puffy around the shoulders is perfect.
Hannibal's look is all about elegance and generational wealth and standard (he is a count, after all). In his day-to-day outfits we often see him incorporate traditional, royal details in his outfits. He wears all kinds of top quality fabrics (loads of great wool, linen, silk/satin for his ties, velvet and even leather). Texture is very important in his style. And so is detail. At operas, fancy dinner parties and other elite gatherings we often see him wear cufflinks, which are beautiful pieces of jewelry that still have a masculine feel and can be worn even by men who usually don't wear accessories. At one dinner party Hannibal wears an ASCOT TIE! (second picture above) Which is really revolutionary, because even though they were very common with the aristocracy and other high society in the late 19th century, almost no one wears them anymore, let alone styles them right. Hannibal however takes these pieces and makes them WORK.
Inspo:
If you translate this to key aspects for your style, at first looking for high quality fabrics is important. They are more expensive (most of us are not anywhere near Hannibal's budget range), but they are worth it because they make you more conscious of what you buy and will still be good pieces after years. As I mentioned, go looking for wool, silk, linen, etc.
Also, what would a Hannibal Lecter inspired wardrobe be without patterns? My top picks would be: pinstripe, monochrome plaid, subtle houndstooth, and of course classic floral patterns or even paisley like his ties! Anything that looks like a Victorian era wallpaper will work, to be honest. (Our king of classy patterns)
Inspo:
The cufflinks and dramatic ties made me come to the conclusion that a more feminine variant of that would be elegant and noticeable yet fitting jewelry. A statement bracelet or necklace, for example. The same goes for bows and neck scarves. A bow or a neck scarf could be a good solution if you're not a fan of ties. (Neck scarves are amazing, I own multiple in different patterns and they can make the most plain outfits interesting!)
Hannibal wears a lot of very formally appropriate clothing, even in his casual outfits. Despite his style being 'exotic' and noticeable, it still is very neat and modest. He wears suits and nice long sleeve shirts always buttoned to an appropriate point even during summer. You would never catch him in shorts. Some people compare the way S3 Alana dresses to the way they imagine Hannibal would dress if he was a woman, however, I think that Alana dresses too bold for Hannibal. Her colour palette is too bright and she wears a lot of lacey, almost lingerie-ish tops. Hannibal's palette contains more muted colours. A lot of different colours and patterns, yes, but they are always in muted/darker shades. Even the whites and light browns he wears aren't really ''light''. The only thing really vibrant I remember him wearing are his beloved, spotless white shirts.
Inspo:
So, personally I'd go with longer skirts or straight leg/slim trousers. Not too wide. Suit jackets that don't reveal too much and slim and notable but appropriate shirts. Maybe a turtleneck here and there. Nothing Hannibal wears is really ''baggy''. When he is wearing a looser shirt he pairs it with well fitted pants (the cooking scenes). There's always balance.
Don't wear obvious logos! Yes, Hannibal wears loads of luxury brands, but you would never catch him buying a Gucci tie that actually has the Gucci logo on it. Brands can cheapen the look of a product, despite popular beliefs. And plus, with Hannibal it's all about the piece of clothing itself, not about the tag it comes with.
There's a few small and specific things that you should 100 percent incorporate in your wardrobe if you want to dress like him, which are:
A pair of nice leather gloves
A white button-up
Leather shoes (oxfords, loafers, anything with a classic academic and italian feel to it. There's plenty of beautiful loafer heels on the market, I own a vintage italian pair and they're the most comfortable heels to ever walk in)
A good knit sweater for casual wear! Brandless, though Ralph Lauren has some that really fit the vibe
A classy watch with a slight vintage yet modern feel
And a transparent murder suit of course, but I suggest you are a little more careful buying that ;)
Colours are also quite interesting. Go with a lot of deep, jewel-toned colours. Loads of greys, browns and whites, but not too much black. Try to stick to deep greens, royal blues, burgundy & wine. A lighter pop of colour such as light blue, coral or purple are also appreciated, as long as precise thought has been put into the colour palette. Colour theory works in clothes, too!
Before we round it all up, I would like to talk about his truly formal looks, as well. I'm talking opera and such.
It's nothing other than social etiquette for a man to wear a tuxedo to a black/white tie event. Opera and high-class parties often automatically classify as one of those. Hannibal is a man of etiquette, he wears his tux. However, it's the details that make him stand out. When everyone else wears black, he wears deep blue or green velvet. He wears mother-of-pearl cufflinks on french cuffs and patterns on his (bow)ties. His truly formal style is minimal, but still special because of the fabrics and details he choses. He makes sure there's always these little elements that make him stand out from the crowd.
Inspo:
So, if you were to imagine this in the form of dresses, you should go for dresses that are minimal in details, but classy and a little vintage in shape. Maybe a jewel as detail here and there, but it's mainly about the fabric and the shape. About an asymmetrical neckline, an unusual way of draping, gloves, just something extra. Don't go for anything too sexy or revealing. Instead go for chic and sleek, maybe bare shoulders and no straps. This draws attention to the collarbones instead of the breasts. Look for dresses that expose, for example, your neck or your arm. It makes an outfit classy and mysterious.
No matter how good his clothes look on him, Hannibal's style will never not feel a little out of place in modern society. Because honestly, who (except for Parisians and New Yorkers) wear such formal three piece suits to get groceries? Hannibal's style feels a little too vintage, a little too royal, and a little too pretentious to not be noticed on the street, but then again, Hannibal likes standing out. He isn't a trend follower, he's a trend setter. He has his own personal style and what he wears only makes him more charming of a personality. He's a fashion muse, certainly in his circle of highly cultured friends. So, don't be afraid to draw attention! I like to think that Hannibal and Oscar Wilde share the same opinion on overdressing: which is that you can never be too overdressed or overeducated. One of the most important aspects of Hannibal's style is that he doesn't follow the mass. He wears what he feels best in, and his clothes reflect the confidence and power that comes with that.
So, dress stately! Dress elegant, dress like you're a member of the royal family, take that button-up you reserve for special occasions and make it a daily statement! The most important thing when dressing like Hannibal is confidence. Your clothes are a way to show off your style, intellect and originality to the world, because we all know Hannibal is far less intimidating in his prison jumpsuit than his own clothes ;)
Should I make this into a series? Is there any interest in other characters?
Anyway, thank you for reading <3
#Also#this show should turn its light up. These pictures are pitch black for god's sake.#And why is there an image limit of 30 on here. I had MORE#hannibal#nbc hannibal#hannigram#fashion#style#will graham#hannibal lecter#hannibal analysis#meta#fashion meta#inspo#It's 1 am on a school day I am TIRED so sorry for any potential mistakes in the text#I'll fix em tomorrow
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Take me out, and take me home…
an: this is kinda long!! but here is my official fic based on Lover by Taylor Swift:) any blue text is Billie’s dialogue and any pink is readers. I hope you enjoy this one!! seven and Guilty as Sin are both coming soon. Peachy (pt. 2) is also going to be on the way! i wasn’t originally expecting you guys to want a part two so i’ll get writing!! 🥰✨🍑
warnings: intoxication mentioned, slight nudity but no smut, so much fucking fluff it’s like a unicorn threw up cotton candy in here.
alsoooo thank you also for over a hundred followers! that’s so many beautiful besties!! i’ve loved writing about billie and chatting with so many of you over the last few weeks and i can’t wait for more!! love ya💋
🩷🥂🫧💋✨
“Take me homeeeee” You slurred, stumbling out of the party you and Billie had just attended. Billie had an arm slung around your waist while you had an arm around her shoulders.
“We’re going home baby, I promise,” Billie replied with a giggle at your disheveled state. Even drunk as can be, she found you so beautiful. Your rosy cheeks even rosier, your big wide eyes now hooded and hazy and full of love, and the sleepy smile plastered on your face made her just wanna kiss it right off of you.
“Heyy babyyyyy? I have.. a very important question for… you.” You looked back up at her stoically, booping her nose as you said “you.” Billie planted a kiss to your temple to try to hide her giggle.
“What baby?” She quickly bent down to grab your waist again as you stumbled backward, making you burst into the most melodic sounding giggles.
“I’m your baby right?” This sent Billie into a laughing fit. The attempt at a serious look on your face combined with the cutest little question, she couldn’t help it.
She pressed kisses to your cheek and temple in between declarations, “My baby, *kiss* my princess, *kiss* my girl, *kiss* my angel, *kiss* my magical unicorn angel baby princess,” she added the last one with a giggle. That was your little nickname for anyone in your life who meant something to you. Your best friends, Billie of course, your little cat. And it never failed to make Billie laugh when she heard it.
“Why do you ask my love?” She questioned after your giggles calmed down again.
“Because I’m like… soooo many things right? But I don’t have a thing for you, you know? Like I need a thing for you. And I was thinking so hard in my brain tonight and I think I figured it out.” You stated matter of factly.
Billie just nodded for you to continue, holding you up a little tighter, and pushing some hair out of your face.
“You, Billie girl, are my-“ You got cut off by Billie’s phone dinging, signaling her driver was here. Without rudely interrupting you, Billie carefully walked you both over to the car, and carefully guided you into the back seat before scooching in herself.
“You warm and cozy mama?” Billie asked, fiddling with the heater in the back, kissing your forehead after you nodded in confirmation.
The ride back home was quiet, a stark contrast to the buzz of the club you two were just in, as well as to your own drunk ramblings. Some people liked to run when drunk, others call exes, and others just fall asleep. Not you. You were always a bundle of energy, ready to chit chat with anyone who would listen, and Billie found it adorable, never once silencing your tipsy rambles even as you both tried to fall asleep at 4am.
“Billie?”
“Yeah baby?”
“I feel like… I feel like I’ve known you for like.. twenty years. But also that’s like not possible. I’ve only known you for real, for like twenty seconds.”
Billie chuckled at your statement. Another little thing you did after drinking, was greatly exaggerate time. For example, if it was the middle of November and someone complained about you still having Halloween decorations up, you’d gasp in shock saying Halloween was “literally like 20 minutes ago.” You two had been dating for about three years now, so Billie just chuckled understanding twenty seconds was three years in your own little drunken time zone tonight.
“Twenty years is a long time baby,” she replied softly, pulling you in closer to her side, letting you rest your head on her shoulder.
“It’s like such a long time. *sigh* Can we still be this close in twenty years?”
This sent both of you into giggles. Billie couldn’t help herself anymore, smothering you in kisses, each one accompanied by a little “mwah!”
“Baby once I get a ring on that finger, we will be this close for a lot longer than twenty years hun.” She pushed some hair behind your ear, watching your cheeky flush under her gaze.
“For ever and ever, you’re my-“
Your conversation faltered again as you pulled up in front of your place. Billie thanked the driver and helped you out of the car before guiding you up to your apartment. Not without few stumbles and bumps along the way.
You were starting to feel a little sleepy but Billie knew you’d get a second wind once you got inside, but she still got butterflies when she felt you wrap your arms around her from behind and rest your cheek on her shoulder as she unlocked the door.
Billie almost jumped out of her skin as you gasped dramatically at something, scaring the shit out of her.
“Baby!” You had your hands on your cheeks in shock, looking back at her as she locked the door behind her.
“We left the Christmas lights up!” You paused before turning back to face the lights. “Until January!”
“Is that a bad thing?” Billie was so confused but went along with it.
“Isn’t that like… against the rules? Christmas was like a million days ago!”
“This is our place, we make the rules.” Your eyes shined up at Billie like she just revealed the meaning to life.
“Oh. My. God. You’re so fucking right babe.”
Billie chuckled and kissed your temple before guiding you to the kitchen and sitting you down on a stool as she got you some water and a small snack.
“Drink up lovie, I don’t want your pretty little head hurting tomorrow.”
As you sipped your water and nibbled on some snacks Billie went into your shared bedroom to get you some pjs and start the shower.
Billie ran her hand under the water to check the temperature before stopping, hearing such a sound come from the kitchen. She dried off her hand before tip toeing back to the kitchen to find the source of the.. sound? song? cry?
“You’re my my my myyyyyyyyyy,” it was you. And your second wind Billie had predicted. You were spinning around on stool singing.. well singing something, only stopping when you caught sight of Billie.
“Babyyyyyy!!! You came back!” You cried out with a huge smile and your hands out, wiggling your fingers as if it would magically will her closer to you. And to your knowledge, it did magically will her closer as she wrapped her own arms around you, kissing the top of your head a few times, chuckling softly.
“I finished my snack and my water. I’m so good at that.” Billie chuckled and simply placed her forehead onto the top of your head.
“You’re killing me here babe.” She said, lifting her head back up and pushing the hair out of your face. You just shrugged nonchalantly before puckering your lips dramatically. Billie smiled adoringly before leaning in and giving you a soft almost angelic kiss, squishing your cheeks a bit too.
“Alright tipsy girl, you wanna go shower and get comfy?” She said holding your shoulders while you nodded. She could tell you were starting to get sleepy, but she knows you’d be grumpy in the morning if you hadn’t showered and you were hungover.
As she guided you into the bathroom, you were humming that little song again, Billie has never heard it before.
“That’s a pretty song your singing there lovie.” She said, helping you out of your clothes.
“Thank you. I’m writing it myself. Right now.”
“Oh really? You wanna sing some more of it for me?”
“Mmm maybe when I’m in the shower. I need to write more words first.” Billie nodded, holding back a laugh.
“Of course, of course. How could I rush such art?” She replied. “Do you want me to come in with you? Need help?”
You gasped and softly nudged her shoulder, “Billie! That’s dirty!” Billie kissed your cheek softly, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Baby it’s not dirty. We had sex in there this morning.” Your jaw dropped and face flushed at Billie’s statement. Your drunk brain not seeming to remember that right now.
“Oh my gosh Billie. You have to promise not to say things like that in front of other people.” You drunkenly pleaded, face totally flushed.
“I promise mama. I save my dirty jokes only for you.” She said with a wink, making you sigh in relief.
“Oh thank god.” Eventually you did in fact pull Billie in there with you. You claimed you didn’t need any help, but you couldn’t deny Billie’s fingers massaging the shampoo into your scalp was heavenly. The rose smell of your shampoo mixed with Billie’s woodsy vanilla body wash she used on you wrapped around you almost as tight as Billie’s arms, making your eyes droopy as you rested your head in the crook of her neck, leaning back into her and she pressed tiny kisses to your own shoulder. Her hands slowly roaming around your body, over your stomach, up to your boobs, a squeeze to your hips, a couple more squeezes on your shoulders and back to your stomach where her arms wrapped tightly, and contentedly.
“You ready for bed angel?” She whispered into your ear, hands giving your hips another squeeze. You just nodded sleepily turning around in her arms to give her a proper hug.
“Thank you by the way,” Your words a bit more steady now as you slowly sobered up.
“For what baby?”
“For saving me a seat at the table tonight. Since I got stuck in traffic. I was nervous everyone else would wanna sit next to you,” You said it so small and sweetly that Billie felt her heart grow ten sizes, knowing that at every table, she’d save you a seat for the rest of her life.
“Oh babygirl,” she cooed, cradling your head closer into her as she hugged you tighter.
She gave you one last kiss to the top of your head before shutting off the water. She stepped out and grabbed your towels out of the little towel warmer and wrapped herself in one quickly, before heading back to you. She shut the shower door again to keep the warm air in as she carefully dried you off a bit before wrapping you in the fluffy towel, with a kiss to your nose.
A comfortable silence filled the room as the two of you got ready for bed. Well really, Billie got ready for bed and then helped you do the same thing. You giggled at her focused face as she carefully dabbed moisturizer to your skin, only silencing your giggles with a kiss making both of you smile.
She had her own giggles watching your droopy eyes fight to stay open as Billie dried your hair with a towel. You absolutely melted into a puddle anytime Billie had her fingers in your hair, so her fingers mixed with a warm fluffy towel was sending you to dreamland.
When she finished, Billie helped you off the counter and gave your butt a little pat as she guided you back to your connected bedroom, shutting off the bathroom light. The two of you changed into some pjs, Billie giggled while helping you with the buttons after you whined not being able to do it right now.
“I can’t see sometimes.” You grumbled as she buttoned them with ease.
“You can’t see sometimes??” Billie asked, raising an eyebrow and biting back a smile.
“Ugh you know what I mean.” You groaned, playfully smacking her hand away once she finished.
After making sure you could get on the bed, Billie quickly went around the apartment, shutting off the lights, making sure your pets were okay, and locking the doors before returning and shutting the bedroom door behind you.
She slipped under the covers, pulling you closer to her, letting you snuggle yourself into her side like a little kitten. Once she was sure you were practically purring like one as well, Billie settled into her own pillow, letting her arm rest on your back.
“Did you write more of your song while you were in the shower?” She asked, squeezing your side quickly.
“Oh my gosh, baby I did and I forgot to tell you.” But it came out more slurred, your eyes were closed and Billie knew it would be minutes before you were fast asleep.
“That’s okay baby. You can tell me now. Sing us to sleep mama,” She whispered, kissing your cheek before settling back in your hold.
“Wait I forgot how it goes.” You were still a little drunk after all. Billie giggled trying to remember your ramblings from earlier in the night.
“I think I remember.. You kept saying “You’re my -“ and then you didn’t finish that bit. And then you were singing it in the kitchen,” Billie opened her eyes to look down at you, you seemed to be asleep at this point, but the slight furrow in your brows told her you were thinking about your little song, so she continued, whispering,
“You’re my, my, my, my….”
“Oh!! You’re my, my, my, my…” you trailed off again.
“Darling, you’re my, my, my, my…”
“Lover.”
#Spotify#billie eilish#wlw#billie eilish fluff#fanfiction#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x you#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#taylor swift#lover#billie x reader
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Chapter 25
Summary: Persistent as ever, Jean and Anna recruit Jean's mother to help with their cause. Which sparks an important conversation between Wanda and Y/n.
A/n: Helloooo! I know I'm slow with posting lately. Work has been CRAZY. Hopefully I'll get in a better rhythm soon. Especially with the hell that is coming upon us these next four years. We'll need each other to get through! Have a good day and enjoy!
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You are folding laundry for you and Rachel when your phone goes off in your pocket. You pause for a moment and pull your phone out to see that it's Jean's mom calling you. It's not unusual for her to call but it's not as common as it used to be.
“Hey Mrs. Grey, how's it going?” You say cheerfully.
Mrs. Grey makes a disapproving sound. “Y/n I've told you many times since the divorce, you can still call me mom.”
You laugh at her slight upset over the misuse of her formal name. “How are you doing, Mom?” You ask as you lean your head to the side to hold your phone between your head and shoulder.
“That's better,” she cheers. You hear some rustling around on her end. “I am doing well. I just came back to town to check on the house. The last tenants just moved out and I came to assess damages before I hire the cleaning crew and repair guy.”
“Oh, do you need a lot of repairs done? You know that I'm always happy to help,” you offer while you resume folding.
“No, no, dear. I couldn't ask you to do that for us,” she says and now you're more confused.
“Oh, I just figured that's why you're calling,” you say as you set the newly folded shirt on a stack of others.
“No dear, I was calling to ask you to lunch. Are you busy this afternoon?” She says happily. You look at your watch and consider your options. You're not certain you want to be spending time alone with your former mother-in-law. But there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.
“I would love to meet with you. Where did you make reservations?” You ask, knowing that she most likely already made reservations. She laughs and mentions that you know her too well. “I will see you at one,” you promise and say your goodbyes. While you finish folding and start getting ready you run through the scenarios of how the lunch is going to go.
As you arrive at the restaurant, your stomach begins to turn. It's a nice place. The last time you went to a nice place with one of Jean's parents, it was with her father asking you to convince Jean to not go through with the divorce. Since then you haven't been asked to dinner or lunch with either of them.
Mrs. Grey greets you with a hug as you arrive at the table. She gives you a kiss on each cheek and she squeezes your arms as she looks at you. “You look great, I love what you've done with your hair. It's nice to see it cleaned up and natural like that.”
You smile at the compliment. She has seen you with many different hairstyles over the years. She has almost never had anything nice to say about your hair until now. Your hair was growing out uneven because of the mullet so you had to cut it short in order for it to grow out properly. “Yeah, well, it wasn't working for me for a bit there. You look wonderful! How are things with you and Mr. Grey? I hear the two of you have been doing a lot of traveling.”
Mrs. Grey nods and moves to sit, “We've been good. All of our kids are so spread out, it's nice to have a reason to go somewhere. Meet all of our new grandbabies. I just love being a grandma now,” she grins as she lays out the cloth napkin on her lap. You follow as you look around the restaurant, feeling a bit out of place. It was a very nice restaurant.
“Oh yeah, I had heard that Roger finally had a kid,” you say as you lift up the menu to look at the pricing.
“Yeah, yeah, he's doing great, very happy to be a father,” she says as she goes through the menu herself. “Don't be shy now, order what you want. It's my treat!” She reminds you in a cherry tone. Something tells you that things might eventually take a turn for the worst and you do not want to leave her with a big bill. You want to be able to leave money to cover your portion of the bill.
“I appreciate that, Mom,” it feels a little foreign to call her that after all of these years. But if it makes her happy, then that's what you'll do to appease her.
You proceed to order what you can afford. You ask her about how your former in-laws are. She mentions that they miss having you officially part of the family. That none of them get along with Anna which makes you laugh since none of them actually have to deal with Jean's wife the way that you do.
You update her on your life, leaving out that you're seeing someone. Especially when she presses for the information. You don't let up because it's not the time to. Besides, you're almost certain if you tell her anything she will tell Jean then she and her wife will be on your case about it. Then Jean will recruit Kate and the information will continue to spread like rapid fire.
When you're able to drop the subject of your love-life you talk about how proud you are of your daughter. How great she's doing in school. The friends that she has made. How kind she is. How strong she is becoming.
Elaine watches you go on and on about her first granddaughter. She is impressed by the way you and her daughter have really stepped up and took on your roles as parents for her grandchild. She knows that she was harsh when the news first came out. But it's clear that neither of you hold her poor reactions against her.
Finally, once you've both finished your meals, you ask her what is really going on. Elaine dabs her lips with her cloth napkin. She sips her wine. She clears her throat and she looks up at you.
“My daughter wants to expand her family,” she states in a professional tone. She is a very good negotiator. Her entire adult life and career has been about getting her way. But you aren't nervous, not about this. “And I'm asking you to reconsider helping her do that.”
You nod your head with a growing smirk as you wipe your mouth with your napkin. “She recruited you,” you state with amusement dancing in your eyes.
“She is my daughter, I would do anything for her. You should know something about that,” she states with her cold stare.
“Yes, well, my answer is still the same. She can find someone else to grow her family with. It's not going to be me,” you state as firmly as she was speaking to you.
Elaine sets her checkbook on the table and you know exactly where this is heading. She tried this with you many times before. Had you accepted any of them, Rachel wouldn't have been born, she wouldn't have you in her life, and the divorce would have been an annulment shortly after you had gotten married.
“Stop, you know that you can't buy me off Mrs. Grey. I won't do it,” you stand firm. You pull out your wallet and leave whatever cash you have on hand but she stops you.
“What if I can guarantee you have custody?” She says and you scoff. She was not about to start negotiations. “Jean says she won't budge on it but I think I can convince my daughter what a great influence you are as a parent. Certainly better than that so-called wife of hers,” she rolls her eyes.
You almost want to laugh at the irony of this conversation. “I can't believe you, the woman who tried to pay me to convince her daughter to have an abortion, is now asking me to get her daughter pregnant.”
“Times have changed. She's not getting any younger and she cannot afford to pay for treatment to-”
“Why don't you pay for it for her then?” You interrupt her. She clamps her mouth shut. Astonished by your abrupt question. You don't typically stand up for yourself in such a way. You are known to walk away to think or remain quiet. But speaking up to her like this, it's unusual. “If I decide to have another child, it will not be with your daughter. I will not have her and everyone else she mentions this to bully me into changing my mind.” You sigh as the upset quickly leaves your body. “Thank you for the meal, I would love for us to stay in touch and meet again under different circumstances. Better circumstances.”
You walk out of that restaurant and breathe in the fresh air to calm yourself down. You want to call Jean to tell her off but you don't. Instead, you call Wanda and ask if she is available. It had been a couple of weeks since her son's birthday where she admitted that she was having conflicting feelings about you and her. You gave her space the last couple of weeks to see if she would reach out on her own. But you needed her now.
Luckily, she hears the upset tone in your voice and asks you to come over without question. Next thing you know, you're parking your truck in her garage. You walk into her house and she greets you in the laundry room with a hug.
She takes your hand and leads you to her room. “My mom is having a book club meeting,” she says softly as the two of you quietly climb the stairs. You look over your shoulder to see her mom surrounded by a group of women her age engrossed in a conversation discussing presumably the book that's in their hands.
You sit on the edge of Wanda’s bed and look at your hands. You let out a big breath. You have missed being in her presence the last couple of weeks and part of you hates that this is the way that you return to her presence.
Wanda stands by the door, she has her fingers laced together as she observes you. She has missed having you around. She knows that she is the one who asked for space but she didn't consider that you would actually respect that request. No matter how good this time apart has been for her. It gave her time to reflect and realize that the only red flags you have are the red flags she has. Nothing extreme, nothing she can't handle. She has been meaning to call you and invite you over but she couldn't explain why she needed the space so she waited until she could. She expected the next time she'd see you, you would have that award winning smile of yours. She didn't expect to see you this way. This upset.
“What happened, Y/n?” She finally asks. You look up at her and blink a couple of times.
“I…” you sigh and lick your lips. “Jean got her mom to ask me to help her have another baby.” You rip the bandaid off not seeing any other way to approach the subject. Wanda gasps as she sits next to you.
“I thought they moved on from that,” Wanda says as she puts her hand on your back.
You nod, “So did I, but they completely blind sided me. Her mom was willing to pay me off.”
Wanda shakes her head. “Unbelievable. I cannot believe her. I cannot believe she would do that! After everything that happened the last time she asked you. I cannot believe she would get her mom involved in this to pay you off!”
You agree, it is insane that they would bring this up again. Let alone bring her mother into this. You cannot believe that it has come to this. You almost want to cave just so that they'd leave you alone about this. You sigh as you reach for Wanda's hand. “Should I give them a baby? I mean, not in the way they wanted but I don't know. Should I just… donate to them. Am I the one that's just being crazy and stubborn?” You ask as you think about the amount of stories you've found online where families have done this sort of thing. That a couple that cannot produce a child on their own approached their ex partner to have another baby together. And they accept with no issues. You're starting to think you were being selfish.
“Y/n, you're not being crazy. You don't want to do that. It's your choice, you have a choice in this and you chose not to do it. That is something they have to respect. The whole thing is completely unfair to you.” Wanda reminds you as she turns your head to face her by pulling your chin. “Yes, had you agreed the first time, it could have been seen as this selfless beautiful thing that you did. But I've watched you tear yourself apart about this. It would have destroyed you to agree to it. You would have regretted it the moment that she announced that she was pregnant. You would have regretted it every week you had to pick up Rachel and pretend that her sibling is not your child too. You would have hated yourself when one day that child found out the truth and felt like you abandoned them. You made the right decision not only for yourself now but for everyone in the future.”
You listen to Wanda as she speaks so strongly about your decision. Defending you against your thoughts of yourself and against the perception of everyone else against you.
She has a point. This scenario can only be a beautiful one if everyone was in agreement. But you don't want this. That was never in your mind in terms of expanding your family. The thought never occurred to you that they'd one day approach you about helping them with that especially since Anna seemed disinterested in the idea of ever caring for a baby. She would tell people the reason she wanted to adopt was because she could avoid the baby stage.
Now she wants to ask this huge thing of you because she is insecure of her role in Rachel's life? You could not believe it.
“You're right,” you say as you hold eye contact with her. You hadn't realized just how much you've missed gazing into those green eyes of hers until now. “I'm sorry to dump this on you. How are you doing? Have you figured out what you needed to?”
Wanda shakes her head as she scoots closer to you. “This is something serious. I'm glad you came to me with this instead of sitting alone in your apartment or going to Bucky and Steve whose solutions are typically to just let you vent and drink. Which is not helpful because then they just dump you onto me.” You let out a soft huff of a laugh as you nod because it's true. She caresses your cheek with the back of her fingers as she pulls her bottom lip under her teeth with her tongue. Her eyes bounce around, gazing into your eyes, glancing at your lips. “And I have, by the way. Figured out what I needed to, I mean. I've missed you and I think I'm ready to start telling people about us. Not today or tomorrow but… soon.” She says nervously. You break out into a big grin and pull her against you in a celebratory hug.
“That just made my day, truly,” you say as you continue to hold her close. Wanda starts to push against you by your shoulders to create some space. As you're about to apologize, she keeps you quiet with her lips on yours. It has felt like a lifetime since you've been able to hold her and kiss her. You're not certain when the last time was and you don't care to think about it as you lay on top of her on her bed.
“We have to be quiet,” she whispers as your lips are on her neck and her fingers are working on your jeans. “I don't want us to embarrass my mom in front of her friends.”
You chuckle at the statement. “You mean you have to be quiet,” you remind her as your hands slip under her shirt. She lets out a soft whisper and you chuckle again. “See?”
She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Shut up.”
After, you are holding Wanda in your arms as the pair of you settle down. You start to think about the future. Consider when exactly you will be ready to have another baby. It just seems like it's too late. Rachel is in middle school, she is grown up. When the kids are grown you're not supposed to have more, you're supposed to wait to have grandkids. Then you remind yourself that you are still young enough to have kids. In fact, this is how you have them the proper way. Or at least the way that stable adults have families.
There's also the fact that Wanda might not want to have more kids. She did try to expand her family but it didn't work and instead her family fell apart. You hate that she blames herself for what Vision did to their family. You clench your jaw at the thought and your arm tenses up. Wanda notices and starts to rub your arm softly.
“What's on your mind?” Wanda asks with eyes closed as she presses her head further into her pillow.
You hesitate to speak. This isn't the time to ask about the future of your family with her. This is the time to hold her and worship her. To be present with her and not spinning around in your head. You kiss her cheek as you try to calm down and return to the moment with her. She looks so relaxed and comfortable. You don't want to change that. She deserves to be relaxed for a moment.
“Nothing, it can wait until tomorrow,” you whisper as you loosen your hold on her.
“Mmm no, we can talk now. If you need,” Wanda fights her sleep as she tries to open her eyes. You shake your head with a smile.
“Go to sleep, we can talk about it tomorrow,” you repeat yourself as you caress her cheek. Wanda tries to hold onto consciousness a bit longer. It was a little early for bedtime but she was exhausted and perfectly satisfied. Every muscle in her body was asleep after the massage you had given her. As well as the many other things you did to pleasure her.
She doesn't fight you or her body anymore. She falls into a deep sleep and you follow shortly, once you're able to shut off your mind.
You wake to her alarm and you curse yourself as you remember that you didn't set your phone up to charge. This wasn't meant to happen the way it did. But you only have yourself to blame as you find your dying phone. You quickly set it up to charge while you get ready. You brush your teeth and get dressed in the clothes you wore the day before. Wanda showers and goes through her morning routine. While she does, you head down stairs to make coffee for her and yourself.
As you're pouring the coffee into the mugs, Wanda is walking down with wet hair and a casual outfit. “No meetings today?” You ask as you slide her mug towards her. She typically dresses up a bit more when she has meetings with her co-workers and/or clients and potential clients. She shakes her head as she lifts her mug to her face and sits on the stool at the counter. You nod and check your watch to gauge how much time you have before going to work.
“It's Sunday,” Wanda says as she swallows. You look at her like she's crazy until you realize that she is right. It's not Monday quite yet. You start laughing to yourself as you set your coffee down.
“I'm all messed up from yesterday,” you laugh as you gesture towards your head. “Speaking of which,” you clear your throat and look into your mug. You bite your cheek nervously as you think of the best way to approach the subject. “Have you thought about having more kids?” You ask with your eyes bouncing between Wanda and your mug.
Wanda sets her mug down and clears her throat. “I think I'm going to need this coffee to kick in before I'm ready to have that conversation.” You nod in agreement and scratch the back of your head with a nervous laugh. She was right, this was not something you talk about first thing in the morning.
So you ask her how she slept and if she was hungry. Then you make her some breakfast, as you're cooking the aroma wakes her mother so you make enough for all three of you. Then the topic of conversation becomes her mother and the book club. Apparently, the meeting was less about the book and more about gossip as you listen to stories about people you've never met and may never meet in your life.
Once everyone is done eating, you try to wash the dishes but Ms. Maximoff refuses to allow you to since you made the breakfast. She has Wanda clean them on her own while she traps you in a longer conversation about you and your future. Your girlfriend tries to spare you but her mother is very insistent. You stumble your way through some answers since some of her questions are questions you have yourself.
She starts to ease up on you and starts to go on and on about her life and gossip from around her neighborhood. The scandals of the elder community. You react as though you care that Marjorie is sleeping with Thom and Chad, which makes you realize there are elders with the name Chad, without either knowing. Or that you sympathize with the
After a while, Wanda gives you the signal that she is ready to talk. You nod and attempt to end the conversation with her mother. You fail miserably and Wanda has to come to your rescue.
“Mom, hey, I need to take Y/n from you,” she says as she pulls on you to rise from your seat.
“Oh but we're having so much fun! I haven't even gone over what David over on the corner house might be up to. Giant garbage bags, every other week. We think it's bodies or-”
“Mom,” Wanda interrupts. “I’m taking my partner back. Okay?” She pulls you closer to her and Ms. Maximoff laughs. She waves the two of you off and says that she needs to get started on her day anyway. You turn to Wanda with a shrug.
The two of you walk to her bedroom to privately discuss. Wanda shuts her bedroom door and you walk around her room. Looking at her photos as you usually do. Wanda sits on her bed with her back against the headboard. Her eyes follow your every move as she thinks about your question. She can have more kids. She talked with her gynecologist at her most recent check up just in case this conversation ever did come up. Her doctor said she had never seen such clean results from Wanda. She assured her that she would be fine to have another baby, maybe ever two of she desired.
But did Wanda want to have another baby? Her boys are so close to becoming teenagers. Your daughter is right there as well. Would it be wise for the two of you to have another baby?
“I don't know how I feel about intentionally trying for a baby at this point in my life.” Wanda starts, grabbing your attention away from the photo of her on her first day of college. “I have two pre-teenage boys who can be a handful at times and are already struggling with the younger siblings they have from their father. I don't know if I want to contribute to their insecurities by having another child,” she expressed her concerns when it comes to her boys.
You nod as you join her on the bed. You sit in front of her just next to her legs. You reach for her hand and she willingly gives you her hand. “Hey, I'm not even certain I want another kid. I was only asking because I keep saying no to Jean. I don't want you to think I'm saying no to you.”
Wanda looks at you and tilts her head. “If I'm honest, I didn't consider that. I know that the situation with Jean and what's happening between us are completely separate things. So that didn't cross my mind,” she explains that your worries aren't hers in that regard.
“Well, that's reassuring,” you chuckle softly because you feel a little ridiculous about making that assumption. “I'm open to the idea with you. But I'm fine if you don't want to go through another pregnancy.”
Wanda pulls your hand closer towards her. She looks at the palm of your hand and traces the lines with her finger tip. She thinks about the art you make with this hand. The pleasures you've brought her with this hand. The tears you've wiped from her face. The food you've made. Then she thinks about you holding her pregnant belly when the weight gets to be too much for her. She thinks about you holding her child in this hand. Butterflies flutter in her stomach at the idea.
“Let's just… if it happens, we'll talk about it then,” she says softly. “We'll go over our options at that time. But let's not make a thing of it. We don't need to start telling people about us and including that we're trying. We can just,” she shrugs as she drops your hand and places her arms around your shoulders as she leans forward. “Well we haven't even discussed marriage yet but knowing your track record, kids are what come first.” She teases and your eyes widen momentarily to show your shock and amusement of the statement.
“Of course, with most people they just get a sappy speech and a ring. With me, you get real commitment,” you add jokingly which makes the two of you laugh. You lean closer and kiss her lips. “You're right. We need to be talking about marriage and our commitment to each other before we talk about having kids. I only brought it up because of everything that's going on right now.”
Wanda smirks, “I know honey, that's why I entertained the conversation without shutting you down. It's one of the many topics of conversation we should have before going straight to the marriage of it all. You know? What if we got married and weren't on the same page about this?”
You nod as you agree, “It's exactly why I'm glad we're taking things slow. I would love to whisk you away to Vegas and elope. And I probably would have if we'd have met at a different time in our lives. But we both have a lot to consider outside of ourselves.”
Wanda's thumb moves back and forth on your neck. “You're a very wise and considerate person, Y/n. What did I ever do to deserve you?” Her eyes are locked on yours as she searches for any kind of malice or false intentions. All she finds is kindness. She cannot fathom what her life would be like had you not made yourself part of it.
“Have an ex with poor taste in liquor,” you remark on the first conversation you ever had with her. She smiles.
“I was a mess,” she states as she bites her bottom lip and drops her face shyly.
You nod in agreement. “You were, and I didn't want to seem like some creep going after vulnerable people by talking to you. By the way, my intentions were pure. That night.” You point between the two of you. “I never had this goal in mind until the night we hung out after my camping trip.”
She looks back up, a little shocked by this news. Especially since you ended up dating someone else after that night. “Really? So why go after Daisy?” She asks as she looks over your features. Taking in every detail of your face. Your jawline, your smooth skin with a chicken pox scar on your forehead. She loves every detail of you.
You shrug as you try to remember that time. It was only several months ago. Or was it a year ago by now? It feels like a lifetime ago. “Fear, insecurities, and a long list of other reasons that don't make a lot of sense but at the same time they do. I mean, we're still afraid to be together.”
Wanda nods as she listens to you explain. You're not wrong there. She was pushing you away for weeks because of how afraid she is to be in love with you. “I'm not anymore. Afraid, I mean. I love you and I only want to be with you. I hope forever but you never know.”
You chuckle at her last comment and kiss her on the lips. “Yeah, you never know.” She smiles before leaning in for another kiss. You rub the spots on her back where you have your hands placed. You continue to pull her closer and closer as the kiss continues. You love her and you can't wait to tell everyone.
Chapter 26
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#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff au#wanda maximoff imagine#wonderstruck series#wanda marvel#messedupfan#fanfiction#wanda fanfic#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x you#wonderstruck
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Ok Anon is totally on to something
Hermitcraft/Life series Doctor who au where Scar is the Eleventh doctor, It's perfect and then we make the hermits and lifers be people they meet,
Cause I'm a sucker for scarian I'm gonna say grian would be River Song, It makes a lot of sense in the long run cause of the whole river song being the one who kills the doctor and all that shabang,
I dunno who would have more chemistry as Amy and Rory though because we would have to consider Amy's whole in love with the doctor arc and then you have to consider which hermits would fit as Grians parents
Look I was given this idea. I'm not holding back on all the important details, not to mention I think Mumbo would be a great 10th doctor or 12th doctor, but I'm getting side tracked.
Ok so Imma think for a sec cause I'm typing this out as I have the ideas
Amy would be Lizzie and we would remove the whole romantic arc Amy would have, or not depends of what you want I'm not to bothered
Obviously this means Rory would be Joel which I think is perfect, because Joel and Lizzie would follow each other till the edge of the universe and beyond. I could totally see Scar getting overly attached to them both.
Though it is a bit weird to think that, jizzie being Rory and Amy would mean Grian is their son and I think thinking about it too much might make me just as confused as the actual show did.
The Silence would still be the same except they're kinda this universes watchers/listeners.
Madm Korariam would be Cleo (the eye patch lady that took river) which means they're the bad guy but that's OK she'd be a good villain and it would suit her character kinda (if anyone has a better suggestion maybe mention it)
Jimmy and Scott would be those Gay Worker Dudes we see in A Good Man Goes to War
So now I'll move onto some of the best episodes in my opinion that would be the best in my au
The Pandorica Opens, so Joel would definitely wait the time Rory did to protect the Pandorica. He gives the same vibes.
The Wedding of River Song, Scarian and also jizzie interactions.
I dont remember the names of many characters but that wont stop me when i have google
I think Gem and Pearl would be Madam Vastra and Jenny, Strax would be Impulse as was suggested to me and o can totally see it, they have a similar vibe
I want Martyn, Ren, Xisuma, Doc, and Skizz there but I don't know who they'd be
Now I'm going to go back to Twelve for a second cause Mumbo would definitely be Twelve, he gives off the same vibe,
Clara would be.. someone ... I haven't figured who out yet.
And that's all I have for now
I think I'm gonna call this au Eleventh Doctor Scar au for now
the drawing of scar in your banner looks like the 11th doctor
oh shoot you might be onto something here
#scar would totally be the eleventh doctor#scarian#mention#so ill tag the ship#Grian would be a perfect River song ngl#it just fits#joel smallishbeans#gtws#gtwscar#Grian#ldshadowlady#jizzie#pearlescentmoon#geminitay#zombie cleo#I think I've tagged everyone I mentioned#jimmy solidarity#scott smajor#nearly forgot the flower husbands o7#impulsesv
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Oughg my god Speaking of Mizuki Regularly Getting The Trans Flag Glued To Her Forehead. Today I am thinking about Solitus Utopia. Big yap session ahead
In terms of cards, it's probably The bluntest example of aforementioned trans flag forehead gluing; pink, blue, and white take center stage. And ouughhh. OUGHHGH. The placement of those colors is making me absolutely crazy
Her outfit has a similar deal to her first casual outfit. Lot of blue and white happening with the clothes, and then her hair and eyes are the pink needed to complete the set. To me, what that says is "This character is a walking trans flag, and she herself is the pink. The Girl Color. The girl!"
I've always felt that pink being the only one of those three colors to be Attached To Her was significant, but it's only now that I'm realizing that the clothing has significance too... I'm feeling two meanings from it:
It signifies the importance of cute clothing in Mizuki's transition. Being as cutesy as possible and altering her silhouette are some of her main tools in the way of passing as cis. (The former being a source of joy and the latter being a dysphoria alleviator also deserve mentioning!!). Her clothes complete the trans flag that her Girl Color Hair started; her clothes build up the road she took on the journey that her Girl Color Very Being started. ... And on a less positive note, I think there is also some significance to the fact that the trans flag color palette is only all there when something is Applied To Her. Without her outfit, she's just Girl Color. When the outfit is put on her, the Girl Color is made to be a part of something else, The Trans Colors. Your first thought is no longer "That's a girl and she happens to be Girl Color. Neat!", but "That's a trans girl and she happens to be Trans Colors. Neat!". I feel like there are parallels between that and how much she hates being labelled Different. This is crude, but it's how the words want to come out of my mouth. Sorry: Because Society Says So, you don't need to wear clothes at home, but you do in public. Because Society Says So, Mizuki can exist as Just A Girl when she's at home. She can be Just Pink. "Her home" means two things here. Firstly, Literally Her House, with Yuuki "Ally 9000" Akiyama & her supportive-enough-I-guess parents being the only people who she interacts with. To them, she's just a girl, and they're not weird about it. They know she's trans, but they don't act any particular way because of that. Her other home is Nightcord, at least before Niigo started meeting up in person. As Amia, she was assumed to be a cis girl, and there was no risk (in their pre-mainstory days) of Niigo ever finding out otherwise. While being presumed cis isn't quite as close to "Girl With No Modifiers" as living with an unfathomably based family, it still didn't carry the Othering that she's used to accompanying her status as a trans girl. If she wants to exit her home, she has to put on the clothes, has to put on the label that is made when the color palette is completed, and go from "Girl" to "Girl And By The Way Did You Know She's Trans?". And that makes everyone and their mother feel like it's fine to treat her weird. The pitying and resentment that she fears so much at best, and "HEY DID YOU KNOW SHE'S NOT NORMAL? ISN'T THAT WEIRD? AGREE WITH ME NOW OR YOU'RE WEIRD TOO" to anyone who'll listen at worst. With a million billion other forms of othering in between. (Hm. Suddenly I'm thinking about blue's absence from her 3rd anni casual outfit. She's no longer a walking trans flag, and is way pinker than before. Because it's a marketable game with marketable characters, we always had good reason to expect Niigo to be normal about her when the secret came out. But still, I feel like having Even More Girl Color glued to her forehead in Trans Palette's place could be considered some kind of foreshadowing for Niigo being normal... BUT ANYWAY this is not a post about the most incredible pants this world has ever seen, this is a post about Solitus Utopia, so I'll get back to that now.)
With the clothing out of the way, I'd like to move on to the rest of the card. This card is from late 2022, when Mizuki's transness was not quite as obvious ("a few inches away" levels of in-your-face as opposed to the more "you are a school principal at a fundraiser and her transness is a cream pie" level we are at now). This makes me extra ready to take this card as an unspoken "To be clear yes she is a trans girl".
The background walls and furniture are largely blue, and the decor is largely pink and white (and purple. Hi, Niigo!). The former is something that's hard to alter or move or acquire more of, whereas it's pretty easy with the latter. If you have walls or furniture that you hate, you can make it look more palatable by decorating it with things you like, with relative ease. Mizuki did that! The background is covered in all manner of fashion-related pink things, and the pink sewing machine and other supplies carry the implication that she made them herself. They do a great job carrying out their purpose, popping so much in comparison to the blue walls that said walls appear more grey than anything else. And also, you don't really feel like looking at the walls, because all that decor makes them Not Really A Point Of Interest.
To me, that sounds a whole lot like transitioning. There's an unfortunate status that's pretty hard to get rid of, both legally and socially, because Government and People just love to obsess over what you were assigned at birth. But changing the way you appear helps make things more bearable for you, both because you're happier looking a certain way, and because the public is slightly less awful to you when you look a certain way.
Cycling back to the "you focus on the pink things more than anything" point, I feel like the most significant pink thing is Mizuki herself. And I think that is also very nice!! Her pinkness is at the very center of the card. It is the heart of the card! Pink!! Girl color!! Heart!! Mizuki's heart is girl color!! Woah!!
(Obligatory "I do not speak Japanese and I do not live there, so I could be wrong", but I think "I was born with an [insert gender] body, but my heart is [insert other gender]" is a fairly popular way of describing being transgender in Japan? I feel like that phrasing has been losing popularity in English, but I still hear it fairly often in Japanese LGBT+ circles on social media and stuff. If I'm right, then that adds a few more significance points to the Pink Center Of Card thing)
Neat card. I love this pink girl a lot
#On an only somewhat related note.#It was only recently that I realized the jars in the card are rhinestones (or something) and not. Seasonings.#Just had to confess
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