#i love all of these people whether they like it or not >:)

[ms-demeanor]

People say shit like this all the time, but see the thing is right now you're twenty and broke and you don't have any idea what kind of relationships you're going to have in 45 years, whether you became a surrogate uncle to the neighbor's daughter or if you took up a new hobby at fifty and found the love of your life or you've become the volunteer team lead at the library you want to protect funding for.

So you're twenty and broke and you go, it doesn't matter, I'm not going to be alive in 45 years, and if I am and I'm too poor to retire I'll just kill myself. Except you're the neighbor's kid's ride to school and babysitter. You're the one who collected signatures to get the library's hours extended so that people would have someplace warm to go for more of the evening in the winter. You're madly in love with someone who's madly in love with you. So you can kill yourself and let that be your retirement plan, or you can hope that when the neighbor's daughter is out of college she will be able to help you meet ends meet because of your property taxes. Or you have to give up volunteer time because it eats into your hours working at Home Depot. Or your partner has to work longer and harder and delay their retirement, because *you* didn't save because *your* plan was to observe (but certainly not contribute to, because you couldn't even contribute to a savings, let alone a political movement) the overthrow of the global financial system in two generations or to just die.

If this is your attitude i have a few questions:

You're not saving, so clearly you're doing better things with your time and money, so what tangible things are you currently doing to erode capitalism?

Did you happen to be the kind of kid who fucked around and didn't form strong friendships or put an effort in at school because you figured you'd be dead at 20? How's that working out for you?

Do you think it's more arrogant to assume that the world as we know it will be totally upturned in your lifetime, or more lazy to take no responsibility whatsoever in case that doesn't happen?

Fuck off with this shit! You're not forming parallel systems, you can barely muster up the effort to form an opinion.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Toy Cars | Fernando Alonso x Mum! Reader

Summary: Fernando boasts about his step-sons to anyone who will listen. So, when you realise you want more, he's confused why your little family is no longer enough.

Warnings: angst, slight age gap. i pictured reader about 35

Requested: no

just a short one compared to the others

F1 Masterlist

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fernandoalo_official just posted

liked by astonmartinf1, aussiegrit and others

fernandoalo_official not been an easy weekend so far but it’s made easier when one of my favourite people is in the paddock

14,114 comments

jensonbutton but i’m not working this weekend?

→ lance_stroll we all know i’m his other favourite person

→ fernandoalo_official no, the twins are

→ user1 step dad nando has my whole heart

→ yn_ln mine too! 

user2 a hug from fernando would heal me

→ user3 a hug from y/n would heal me

yn_ln weekends where i get to see you are my favourite

→ user4 i will never be normal about these two 

→ user5 it’s the fact that he watches the f2 races because it gives him an excuse to hang out with y/n 

astonmartinf1 our favourite couple 

user6 need fernando to win now that he’s had his good luck hug 

yn_ln just posted

liked by jensonbutton, lance_stroll and others

yn_ln back on track for the twins. both my boys did a wonderful job with high position finishes… oh and they were visited by an enthusiastic fan 😉

5,343 comments

fernandoalo_official i’ll be getting you in one of those karts next 

→ yn_ln that’s going to take a lot of convincing, nando 

→ fernandoalo_official i can think of a few ways, mi vida

→ landonorris ew

→ user7 mi vida!! i will never be normal about these two 

aussiegrit how’d he get his hair that tall 

→ astonmartinf1 it’s so full of secrets 

fa_alonsokart calling the boss an enthusiastic fan is such a power move

→ user8 the fact that he let her and didn’t comment on it tho 

lance_stroll they'll be taking his seat soon enough

user9 love how supportive fernando is of his step-sons

→ user10 he literally started a karting school so that he could help their karting careers

→ user11 the dad that stepped up

user1 what’s your favourite fa14 fact? mine is that he fell in love with y/n l/n, realised she had twins and immediately started enacting project alonso 

→ user2 no because the twins were 11 when he met them and now they’re 15 and looking at f3 seats 

user3 this is what i’ve been saying. fernando doesn’t just love y/n, he loves her children just as much, if not more

user4 fernando alonso puts all other step-dads to shame because he is always there for them, no matter how busy his life is

user5 i really need fernando to hurry up and propose because that is his family

→ user6 yes! he needs to make project alonso official by giving them all his last name

→ user7 and then more babies!  

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comments 

user8 why was this the cutest thing said by anyone ever. like those are his boys 

user9 wait, so does this mean he doesn’t want kids?

user10 the way he cut that interviewer off because that his family whether they share blood or not

→ user11 i read it as he didn’t want to talk about it any more because he doesn’t want more kids and maybe he and y/n haven’t talked about it yet 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux and others 

yn_ln an empty house for the week makes me realise that i miss hearing about cars 

2,343 comments

user1 aw are the flowers from fernando?

kellypiquet max keeps trying to convince me to get another cat. don’t let him see this

→ maxverstappen1 too late 

user2 wait, why isn’t she spending summer break with nando?

→ user3 because he’s on holiday 

→ user2 without her? 

→ user4 they don’t have to spend every minute together. he’s allowed to have a break 

user5 guys, y/n and fernando don’t follow each other anymore?

→ user6 i thought you were lying but then i checked and it’s true :( 

→ user7 oh that captions hit extra hard

user8 no because her entire life is racing and now that it’s not there, she realises she misses it

→ user9 she misses him

user10 i’m so confused. they were so in love like two weeks ago. what happened?

user11 no because i can’t imagine seeing fernando without y/n

user12 is he still going to support the twins? 

user13 but you were supposed to get married to fernando and have lots of little alonso’s

→ user14 maybe one of them didn’t want that 

→ user15 can’t imagine it being alonso, he thinks the world of the twins

→ user16 true. he does mention them in almost every interview 

user1 when i remembered f2 were racing this weekend, i was so happy because that meant yn and nando content and then i remembered they’d broken up

→ user2 all the tweets on here are tearing my heart out as well 

user3 they’ve not spoken to each other once today

user4 yes she walked straight past him but there’s clips of her entire face crumpling as soon as she’s past him

→ user5 yes! i saw that. her colleague had to usher her into the garage before she started crying 

user6 the fact that fernando spent the entire time watching her though

→ user7 even when people were talking to him, he was full on staring at her

→ user8 brokenhearted lover boy made no attempts to hide it 

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Love that I mentioned request for Esteban once and I already have 5 requests 😂 I didn't realise there was that much love for Ocon considering I can never find any fics for him

tag list

[livingasaghost]

i think one reason why so many people fail to understand andrew and neil's relationship is because people don't know what it is to be aspec. and obviously the aspec umbrella is wide and varied and no one size fits all, but at the heart of their relationship, neil is demisexual. and i fully believe andrew is some form of aromantic. and obviously their shared history of trauma (of all kinds) colors their relationship and their sexualities and actions. but aspec people (and the people in relationships with those aspec people) develop such different relationships than allo people. they care differently, and it's often the care that becomes most important, rather than (just) the attraction. like yes, i choose you because i see you because i am interested in you because i don't quite understand you but i want to, i need to, and i am committed to sticking around regardless of whether we are a legal partnership or not.

people argue all the time that andreil would grow to say i love you some day, that they'd eventually heal enough to get married, but that isn't healing. that's ignoring a vital part of each of them. not only are they both still learning what love is, but love is not what their relationship is built around. they did not ~FaLl In LoVE~ they built a partnership around taking care of the other person. sure they were attracted to each other in their own ways, but andrew doesn't look at neil like he's his happily ever after romance. neil is the person who wants andrew to live, who wants andrew to be happy, who wants andrew to know that he has value even when he's not a good person. and andrew is the person who wants neil to be safe, who wants neil to be happy, who wants neil to know that he has value even when he isn't playing exy. their "romance" comes from holding each other up, from calling each other on their shit, from being a safe space when the world has proven it is anything but. neil is the one who almost starts to imagine some kind of long-term partnership in such conventional terms and andrew is so unconcerned with what that partnership looks like...he just knows the two of them will continue holding each other up as long as they can. and sure they'll have sex and sleep in the same bed and get cats together and all that "romantic" shit, but it's more than romance. it's a life. it's security. it's a chance to rewrite the trauma of their pasts.

and yeah to an outsider all that is romantic, sure. but i don't think andrew and neil see it like that. their relationships is all facts and truths. they feel safest in these absolutes, in the trust they are building together, in the shared language they are crafting between tentative touches and long stares. but to label it something as banal as ~romance~ undersells just what's happening to them. they don't need to say i love you because they know that all of these pieces that make up their shared life together say that for them, and they wouldn't know what to do with those words anyway. their "love" is not the same as other people's anyway. they don't need to get married because anniversaries and dates and marriages minimize just how long forever is, and they are already joined together by the understanding they share.

if the two of them got married or started "dating" it would send the wrong message to people who will never understand. neil isn't andrew's ~boyfriend~ he's the man who convinced him that life can interesting enough to stick around for. andrew isn't neil's ~lover~ he's the man who refused to let him run away from the life he always wanted. it's not romantic, it's survival. it's selflessness. it's learning how to care for yourself by caring for someone else and letting them care for you.

[gayshitanddadjokes]

Okay I got rid of all the other reblogs so that I could write out a little version of this story (probably not what OP was thinking but also only like 3 people will even read this) without distraction.

So person A, a nurse, is pregnant after a one-night-stand and literally cannot carry the baby for medical reasons. They always wanted kids. Doctors tell them that they will literally die if they keep the baby. They're in a no-abortion state so they don't have a choice.

Person B, the one-night-stand, shows up one day with a car packed full of snacks and a full tank of gas. They made an appointment at an out-of-state Planned Parenthood for A scheduled for the next week. A says they don't know if they want an abortion. B says that it's just a consultation, and very bluntly says that they deserve a road trip anyway, because if they do keep the baby they need to mark a few things off their bucket list before it happens.

Over the course of the roadtrip they go on a silly hijinks adventure, broken up by the internal monologue of A trying to decide whether or not to abort. It's slowly revealed that A struggles with depression and has a really, really shitty life, and one of the reasons that they want to keep the baby is because they value that life more than theirs. Over the course of the week A and B fall in love and A decides at the Planned Parenthood that they value their life and they want to live. (They notice that said Planned Parenthood is hiring nurses.)

The abortion is scheduled for three days later. A tells someone what's happening and the next day they get a call from a friend/relative saying that the person they told reported it to one of those snitch lines. If they go through with the abortion they'll get arrested when they try to go home. But A made their choice, so they decide to stay in whatever state they're in now and apply to the nurse job at Planned Parenthood.

They tell B to leave so that they aren't implicated in the abortion itself. They can still use the excuse of it being just for an "unbiased" medical check up since A worked at the hospital that said they saw when they first got pregnant.

B leaves after setting A up with a hotel room. The day of the abortion comes and A takes the bus. There are protesters outside trying to physically restrain them from going in. The procedure doesn't seem very dangerous but they're very emotional about actually doing it. They still go through with it. When it's over they leave as soon as they can. They're about to sink into the grief of knowing that choice has changed their life forever when a familiar car pulls up to the bus stop, this time filled to the brim with boxes.

B starts prattling on about how they're so sorry they're late, but they didn't know what A would have wanted from their apartment until they asked A's sibling/friend and bla bla bla. A is shocked that B came back, but B says that it wasn't even a choice. Of course they came back. (But miscommunication has to happen for a story!) A is still processing but now they have a shoulder to cry on and someone to tell them everything will be okay.

Jump to a few years in the future, A and B are still together and A has that job at Planned Parenthood. They're happy together, they've established a life with each other here, and they don't regret a thing.

there's an extremely niche plot in romance fiction wherein our invariably heterosexual leads fall in love after a night of passion leads to an unplanned pregnancy and they're now bound together by an impending child. I cast no judgment on anyone who enjoys this, but since I'm an evil gay and this is my personal nightmare scenario I want to see a zany romance novel premised on the opposite resolution: a couple falls in love while on a whirlwind roadtrip to obtain a legal abortion

[soulsforsales]

I don’t think people understand the extent and effect of Jason Todd’s trauma. I mean, every time Jason goes “I died.” Everyone’s like “we know, Jason!”

But no. No, you don’t know. He died — in every sense of the word. His heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped giving out air. His body was taut, numb, paralyzed.

And the crowbar, the beating didn’t kill Jason Todd— the bomb did which means he laid down on that cold stone floor of the warehouse in a pool of his own blood and counted down the minutes to his death, quite literally and even in his last moments, beyond all logic, he was hoping that Dad will come, Dad will save him, Dad will be here. But Dad was too late.

And he was helpless and tired and bleeding when the shrill scream of the explosion cut through followed by that chilling silence. He must have felt the debris press into his already broken bones and skin and that’s when it must have hit him that it’s actually over. He’s dead and Dad couldn’t save him. So, he must have closed his eyes and waited for the peace that follows with being dead.

Because he was just a kid. Sixteen. Kids die and go to heaven, right? Well, even that was snatched away from Jason.

Because he was forced back to life— whether it was climbing out of your own fucking grave or the Lazarus pit— he was forced back into a life that was his no more because who he was, the kid, the Robin— he died and what came back was someone no one could identify.

He must’ve felt his heart beat frantically to push all that blood through his aching muscles, his lungs finally swallowing in air after being black and blue for god knows how long. He came back only to find out that the one person he loved most in the world didn’t think him worthy of being avenged. No matter how much Bruce suffered after Jason’s death— in my opinion— Jason’s anger is justified. Because he was JUST A KID. He was killed simply to spite Batman, he was killed as collateral damage. A KID- BEATEN BLOODY AND BRUISED FOR SIMPLY WANTING TO HELP HIS MOTHER FOR SIMPLY WANTING TO PROVE HE WAS GOOD.

Can you even imagine how many times he must’ve just wanted to stop? Can you imagine how much he wanted to just go home and have Alfred bake him cookies again? How much he wanted to hug Bruce and try forgiving, how much he wanted to call Dick “brother” again and just be his “little wing?”

It pains me to see how he’s treated— both fanon and canon.

Jason Todd isn't just the “angry Robin” or “the violent anti-hero with a grudge” he’s so much more.

He is a hero. And he died a hero. He died trying to save someone. He died hoping he saved someone.

I have said it before and I’ll say it again: he did NOT deserve that. But look how he took all the bad things that happened to him and only gave the world something better in return?

Yeah, that’s who Jason Todd is.

[girl-lostconnection]

So..forgive me you're the first person I'm ever asking anything on Tumblr (Kinda new and I usually like to describe it like hiding in the corner and just watching everything quietly and leaving likes and I love your work) but I was thinking about your concept with 141 and reader dying and the notebook. Would there ever be a case where the others stumble upon it? Whether Price forgets (somehow) to put it away or someone's in the midst of searching for something and stumbles upon it?

Again, love your work, feel free to ignore this tho

Yeah, I think this type of readers people call “lurkers” which is cool🙂‍↕️you guys are usually the backbone of the audience, I enjoy you tremendously.

And that’s a really good question, anon!

You know what? Why not turn the heat up a little more for this pot with the frogs.

I can imagine Price not exactly forgetting it somewhere but harbouring it so close to himself that people start to notice. This specific notebook is always with him — under his armoured vest and in the front pocket of his shirts, on top of the stack of documents, edge of it peeking out of his pants pocket.

It’s always there when before he didn’t carry it with him. It’s small and simple, technically it shouldn’t rise any questions but Kyle is the first who notices it. Maybe because after your death he’s so sharply attuned to everyone else on the team, it’s practically unhealthy.

Kyle who watches John fumble with the leather bound corners of the little thing and wonders…what’s inside of it? They have been all grieving but your things have been taken by them all and shared fairly.

Simon doesn’t withhold your pictures or books with your annotations. Soap doesn’t say no when Gaz asks for one of the keychains. Kyle himself lets Simon and Johnny take one of your things each. Simon takes the big oversized T-shirt and Soap whisks away one of your hoodies, clutching it hard to himself, knuckles white with tension.

(Kyle will never admit but when he walked in on Johnny in hoodie with your name and rank on the back of it his knees buckled. For a moment a traitorous part of him thought you were there. For a moment he could breathe again)

So Price keeping something of you to himself almost felt unfair. It wasn’t, of course, no, Captain had every right to grieve and mourn in a way that made it easier for him.

But-

But Kyle missed you. Everyday and every morning he’d wake up, realisations hitting him again that you aren’t coming back. You are never coming back.

You disappeared so suddenly you were now everywhere.

The unwashed cup they couldn’t bring themselves to wash, the clothes and trinkets, the books and pictures. The notebooks.

Kyle remembers how you two played games in it, drawing X’s and O’s when debrief would get too long and your brains too sluggish to keep awake without external stimulation.

Kyle remembers you writing in them, so focused you oftentimes wouldn’t notice him getting closer until he’d plop himself down in front of you, pretending to pose. Your favourite model, wasn’t he?

Kyle remembers you smiling at him, eyes flickering to his face for a moment, your gaze so impossibly soft he feels like choking and burying himself next to you.

There is a whole life ahead. Kyle isn’t sure how to live it with a hole in this chest the size of your love.

It’s a selfish thought, maybe. Maybe he is selfish.

Maybe he should have been content with what he has been given. But he wasn’t.

So now he slips the notebook off Price’s desk when the man himself is so wrecked he can’t see straight. John’s drinking got worse after your death. Not yet enough to cause disciplinary action but enough to make them all worried.

Gaz has never seen him like that.

Why were they all lucky enough to meet you but not lucky enough to save you? Would the outcome be different if one of them went with you on that deployment? Could they save you if they knew how it ends?

Could they try?

Kyle’s fingers skim over the pages, your hoodie on him and if he pretends hard enough it almost feels like a hug. It almost feels like his body heat seeping through fabric is yours. Like you were just wearing it.

Like you didn’t leave at all.

Like you are coming back.

Kyle flips through the pages, gurgling wet laughter in his throat when he notices that you have been writing Simon’s jokes down and coming up with your own. (The “just got hospitalised due to peekaboo incident. They put me in ICU” joke almost makes Kyle choke).

Some part of him gets why Price has been guarding this specific journal so hard. Why he wasn’t letting anyone else close to it, because this right here is you.

Everything that’s left of your thoughts and feelings, of your humour and love, of your plans and scribbles.

It’s tangible proof that you were here. You lived, you loved, you thought. You were there and you were a person. Their favourite person. Their beloved one.

Maybe that’s why your small note hits him harder than he could have ever expected. A small resigned “I’m not sure I fit in. I’m not sure I’m not second…or fifth best in this case. Don’t even know if I wanna talk about it. Just plain stupid” splits Kyle’s scull open and leaves him bleeding and aching and shaking.

What…what did you mean “fifth best”? Why would you say that? What- no. Nonononono. No, it’s not fair. It’s not true, it has never been true.

Kyle feels like driving back to the cemetery and wrapping his car around the poll.

Kyle feels like clawing at the ground and sobbing-sobbing-sobbing.

Kyle feels like begging.

Please, no. Please, come back. Please, let him fix it, let him tell you the truth, let him tell you.

Kyle understands why Price was guarding the journal this fiercely. Kyle is so mad he feels like demolishing John’s office and yelling until his voice is raspy useless thing, vocal cords damaged, headache pounding inside his head and he’s burning from inside out.

Kyle looks at the page, his whole core so hollowed out you could feel an echo if you’d knocked.

Kyle doesn’t know what to do because you are gone.

Because he wants to say “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry, I’d be better if I knew”, he wants to say “come back and scream at me, come back demand attention, come back and hurt me in return just please please come back”.

He wants to say “I love you” in a hundred different ways, he wants to kiss it better, he wants to hold you again, he wants you back, why can’t you come back, why can’t he get you back? He will change, he will do better, he will pay attention, he’s sorry, love, he’s so sorry.

Soap finds him just blankly staring at the page and he doesn’t understand at first, concern sharpening his features like one of the razors he uses for his drawing pencils.

Johnny sinks down next to him, lips pressing to Kyle’s temple, breath panting when Gaz doesn’t respond because he can’t.

He doesn’t know what to say.

How do you live knowing you may never change what already happened? How do you keep going knowing your tenderness is decaying six feet underground, that your love is springing with flowers when they should have stayed above the ground and picked them? How do you get over it? How?

Johnny’s eyes skim over the page and Gaz can feel when the realisation sinks in, when the body next to him is getting poured full with raw ache and ice sharp panic.

Johnny asks “Gaz whose journal is that”, Johnny pleads “Mate, talk to me, where did you get it?”, Johnny whimpers “Kyle tell me it’s not theirs, Kyle please, Kyle say something”.

Kyle doesn’t know what to do other than wrap himself around Soap and hold him despite the thrashing, despite the disbelieving laughter that descends into gasping for air and clawing at his back and shoulders.

Kyle doesn’t let him get out and do something stupid, like drive to the cemetery and wrap a car around the poll and curl near your gravestone.

There is an awfully loud gulp and the journal is getting carefully taken off Kyle’s lap, Simon’s fingers long and scarred — things broken too many times to grown back straight and narrow, calloused pads of his fingers catching on the paper of the notebook.

Kyle has to drag him down to them, he has to practically kick the ground from under Ghost’s feet because the man looks like he will get the shovel and get you out of the coffin.

(Kyle doesn’t want to think how Simon refused to let them bury you, how he sat with you for days, until the decomposition became evident. Kyle doesn’t want to think how Simon placed a phone in your coffin despite knowing that you are not coming back. Kyle doesn’t want to think that Simon was terrified the 4 of them might bury you alive).

Ghost looks like the sky just fell on his head, crashing his spine and grinding down his nerves. Ghost looks like he wants to cry but doesn’t know how.

Ghost looks like how they all feel.

Kyle forces the man into their cuddle pile and forces his hand to wrap around Johnny, because Soap digs his fingers into them like he’s falling-falling-falling. System crashing, bomb ticking, Rome burning down.

Funny how Ghost never understood the phrase “going mad with grief”, always felt like it was a bit of dramatisation. People die every day after all, don’t they? It’s statistically impossible to never lose a single person.

Funny how Soap gets it now perfectly. The shift of tectonic plates in his brain, the rewiring of the whole system, pain so intense he might have ash for heart now.

Funny how it’s not funny at all but Gaz still laughs, face wet when Simon tightens his grip and pulls Kyle in, letting him hide his face.

Taglist: @synthe4u

[shutupandwatchsmosh]

theoretical knowledge vs. practical application ☆ spencer reid

summary: spencer studies intimacy like any other subject, but nothing prepares him for the reality of being with you. in your arms, he finally learns that some things can’t be understood- only experienced. pairing: inexperienced!spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, lots of kissing (practically making out), intimacy, but no explicit sexual content! wc: 1.1k a/n: this brilliant idea came from my very lovely moot @/jackiesistired over on twitter <33

Spencer had read five books about kissing.

Not just any books, no. They were scientific, psychology-based books that broke down the act of kissing into its most basic neurological, physiological, and psychological components. He’d also skipped numerous peer-reviewed journal articles, and, at some point, had managed to venture into less scientific territory- modern dating guides that made his skin crawl but ultimately did provide insight into what people expected in relationships.

And then, there was the… other research.

The kind that led to him sitting in front of his laptop at 3 a.m., his ears burning as he read about intimacy in ways he hadn’t yet experienced. He took notes. Intricate organized, handwritten notes in which he annotated his key findings, storing them away like highly classified information.

But all of it- all of the extensive research- meant absolutely nothing the moment your lips crashed against his.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You and Spencer had been dating for a few months now, and while things had been progressing steadily, he hadn’t made any major moves beyond gentle, lingering kisses and hesitant, shaky touches. 

He was shy about it- not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he was terrified of messing up. He’d told you early on about his utter lack of experience, and you had reassured him earnestly that there was no pressure.

But he wanted more. He wanted to touch you the way you touched him. He wanted to kiss you until you were both breathless, and he wanted to see if reality could really live up to things he had spent so long reading about. He wanted to know if he was capable of making you feel good.

Most of all, he desperately wanted to stop overthinking.

Which is how he found himself here.

Spencer hadn’t realised just how sensitive he was until he was beneath your hands, beneath your lips, and was trying (and failing) to stay coherent.

You had started slow and gentle, kissing him with a sweet, lingering tenderness, but the moment he responded- the moment he made the quiet, needy sound in the back of his throat- you deepened it. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly, and the delicious whine that escaped him was so involuntary, so desperate, that you felt him tense in embarrassment.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, “Don’t hold back.”

His breath hitched. His head spun as his grip on your waist tightened, unsure whether to pull you closer until there was no air between you or to push you away before he completely unraveled under your touch.

“I- I don’t-” He swallowed harshly as your lips gently brushed across his jaw. “I didn’t know I was this-”

“Sensitive?” you supplied graciously, dragging your lips down his neck.

Spencer shuddered. “Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice wrecked already.

You smiled against his soft skin. “I like it.”

He let out a ragged breath, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat. “I- I think I do too.”

You laughed softly as you trailed lower, and Spencer actually whimpered.

You’d never heard a sound quite like that from him before- so high and desperate- a noise that he clearly hadn’t intended to make. His whole body twitched beneath your teasing touch, and he was gripping the couch cushions like they were his sole tether to reality. 

“Oh, God-” His voice cracked as your teeth grazed over his pulse point, his hips shifting instinctively beneath you.

He inhaled sharply as you went back up and pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw. Suddenly, his brain kicked into overdrive. "Did you know that the skin along the neck has an increased concentration of sensory receptors? It’s why-" His words cut off with a sharp inhale when your lips gently caressed the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

"Why what?" you teased, brushing your lips lightly over his neck.

"Why- it’s- um- " His breath hitched. "It’s a- an erogenous zone- highly sensitive- oh-" 

"You were saying?" you murmured, dragging your lips up the column of his throat.    

"I-" He tried again, but when you nipped lightly at his jaw, his thoughts crumbled.    

You pulled back to take in the sight of him. He was flushed, panting, his pupils blown wide with something akin to pleading.

“Spencer,” you murmured, running your fingers through his tousled curls, reveling in how he leaned into your touch like he was starving for it.

He looked up at you in a daze, his lips parted like he was trying to form words, but he failed to find them.

“I-” He swallowed hard. “I did research on this.”

You tilted your head slightly and bit your lip, amused. “Uh-huh?”

“Very extensive research,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “A lot of it.”

“And what did your research tell you?” You hummed softly as you trailed your fingers lightly down his chest.

He inhaled sharply as he tried not to react to your touch. “That, uh- physical contact increases oxytocin, which promotes bonding, and- oh-” His voice broke when you pressed a kiss just below his ear, his whole body trembling beneath yours.

You grinned. “Go on, Spencer.”

“I- I-” His fingers clenched at your hips as you shifted, his breath stuttering. “Oh, my God-”

You kissed him again, slow and deep, and he let out the softest moan against your lips, feeling utterly helpless.

His hands trembled where they held you, like he was overwhelmed and he didn’t know where to move them. Like he was afraid that if he moved too much, or breathed too much, he might just lose control completely.

“You are adorable,” you whispered against his lips, dragging your nails lightly down his back.

He exhaled shakily. "I- um- "

Your smile softened, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Let’s practice more.”

Spencer’s hands tightened on your waist, and for once, he didn’t overthink.

He just felt.

And it was so much better than anything he had ever read.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

Later, when you were curled up against him, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

You lifted your head. “What?”

He shook his head, cheeks still tinged pink. “I spent weeks preparing. Studying. Making sure I knew everything I could possibly know. And yet…” He looked down at you, still dazed. “Nothing I read could have prepared me for you.”

You smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw.

“That’s because,” you murmured, “some things you just have to experience.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, pulling you closer.

“Then I think I still have a lot to learn.”

You grinned, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Good thing I loved teaching you.”

And when you kissed him again, he decided that practical application was his new favorite subject.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I know I've commented on this before and I know it wasn't even a different comment, just said on a different day with different words.

But it is IMPORTANT that we can have this conversation. It's part of reconciling what we have been with what we might want to be.

At the time, Trump wasn't even a thing yet, I forget what it was exactly, but I **think** it was the Ferguson uprisings. My wife and I were living together for the first time and talking about this A LOT obviously because it was all anyone we knew was talking about and the stuff coming out of Ferguson was both exciting and terrifying. I think I asked her where she wanted to go if we decided to leave. And she just looked at me and asked "where is it you think we could go where this couldn't happen to me?"

I really hadn't understood what I was asking her until I got that reply. The idea that changing our environment wouldn't help her, was only about soothing MY feelings of safety, not about what would actually MAKE HER SAFER, had genuinely not occurred to me. I absolutely learned this from my mother, the whitest person in my family, who moved us every time shit got rocky. And for a minute as I thought about that, I remembered what it felt like the first time she took me away from the land I grew up on. We were not indigenous, but I was raised on Maidu land, and many local children's ecology and outdoor hobbiest programs were run by folks on the rez for their own kids, while being open to the wider community. I spent A LOT of time on Feather River with my friends learning about everything from basket making to fishing to the water table, to agricultural techniques, to beadwork, to more than I could ever remember. And I learned to see the land I lived on as part of me in the same way I was part of it. When that was taken from me, I quite literally destabilized and went....grief striken I guess. For a long time. And when I finally "got over it" I did so mostly by accepting that while I might never get to go home, that little valley was a huge part of what made me myself, and I would never let that go.

The fear, the sense of looming threat, it had made me vulnerable to the idea that fleeing would help, whether or not that was true, but more importantly it had beought me upsettingly close to forsaking something that quite literally I know I am not me without. And all so that in another ten years my wife might look at me and say "is anything different?"

And we had a really long talk after all this, with a ton more to it that is our business not the world's, but what we ultimately came to was "this is our home. And we will die here, be buried here, and be mourned and celebrated here. And if that means we have to fight the abuses and oppressive actions of the people who are here with us then we will, but our home is worth loving in that way."

Ever since, whenever I hear white usa citizens talk about fleeing to some perceived more progressive nation, I hear "where do you think I could go that this could not happen to me?" I think "why don't you love your home, the land, the people, the world that was built here, enough to fight for it when it is threatened?" I hear "it is easier to run than to resist."

And I think that's what people reacting poorly to this post don't get yet. Maybe never will, I don't know. "It is easier to run than to resist" is a terrifying thought that comes from a place of fear and helplessness. And it is difficult to hear the people who have benefitted the most from that thought being inflicted on others that they truly believe it. That they may truly and sincerely not understand how devastating it is to be forced to make such an unthinkable sacrifice only to have that sacrifice treated as rational and right by people who have never had to consider it before (even if perhaps their ancestors did).

Reconciling the racial history of this country will require all of us to stop being defensive about the emotional realities of indigenous people, people of color, the descendants of slaves and other owned/indentured people, and so many other communities in this country. The guilt and discomfort must become safe to experience or we will try to punish those who trigger it by asking to be treated as people.

Given the state of the world, that avoidance response is not one ANY of us can afford right now. If yours is still causing you to activate in response to conversations like OP is trying to have, then likely you are still very much at risk of radicalization in ways even you may not recognize.

the reason that white Americans going "I'm going to move to ___" during all this insults me so much is not bc I care whether they leave or go. I think it bothers me deeply bc it shows such a... Lack of attachment to the land that so so SO many people suffered and currently suffer for.

The indigenous peoples here were mass murdered for centuries for their own land. My people were brought here in chains for centuries, then bred like they were lower than animals, just to work this land. People of color here and abroad suffer just to maintain this place's spot in the global hierarchy.

A lot of BLOOD went into this soil that y'all's ancestors wanted so fucking bad, a lot of privilege (whether you want it or not) was built through so much suffering for you to have. And as soon as the going got tough, your only comment was "well, I wish I could settle somewhere else now". 😐 It just is truly a slap in the face, that y'all don't even care that much about what was committed for you to stand where you are.

And maybe if people acknowledged that privilege more I'd be less mad, but no. They claim to not even know 😭 like all right then

[nerdbabee]

Astro observations — NERDBABEEE PERSPECTIVES PT. 2

💜💙🩵🩵💙💜💜💙🩵🩵💜💜💙🩵🩵💙💜💙

— 3h Saturn/ 3h in Capricorn might take quite a while to get their drivers license (so true because i have 3h in Capricorn & i didn’t get my license until later, due to Capricorn being ruled by Saturn i feel there’s a strong restriction there that prolonged the process)

— What others tend to say about you, 3h from 7h = the 9h. [ e.g. 9h in Sagittarius: people talk about how you’re adventurous, seafarer of new beginnings or endowed with a lot of knowledge, Spiritual. They might also discuss how you’re lackadaisical, carefree or impulsive.]

— 4h mars/sun could indicate having more close male friends n vice versa for 4h Venus/moon. (I have this placement with sun in the 4th house)

— Cancer Lilith natives might like to nurture their partners when they are at their lowest/when they're vulnerable (one of my placements as well, & yes it just feels like safe space for me to express my vulnerabilities without second thought)

— Mars in the 12th house has a hard time letting their guard off. They don't want to show their sensible side (had a friend with this placement once & she looses almost everyone in her life whether friends or lovers due this fear of letting her guard down, in return she ends up in a constant cycle of being alone.. it’s her fault though so idrk what to say honestly🫤🤷🏽‍♀️)

— Mars at 4° 16° 28° relatives can sometimes annoy them too much. It can be any relative but specifically from the mother side eg. an annoying cousin or aunt, etc. (i literally just beat up my aunt two months ago because of this, which my sagittarius mars at 28° she was a problem for me for so long, she had it coming)

— 4° 16° 28° on Chiron can indicate a nostalgic person. They are often lost with their memories in their past and attach too hard on them (personal placement for myself as well but i’ve healed this aspect & have now let people go permanently)

— Moon at 9° or 21° love to share things with the people they love. These natives are not afraid to open to love. Their open-minded personality helps a lot (another personal placement, i’m very generous with friends as well as strangers so i absolutely adore this aspect of myself)

— Pluto or Uranus in the 2nd house can struggle with money or to keep them. You might spend them too fast and ending up regretting later (me asf! but i’ve healed this placement & think before impulsively spending too much now, go me! 🥳🥺😭)

— Your 5th house sign and its ruler can indicate your hobbies. Nothing is randomly here, and these hobbies can help you to reach a purpose (my 5th house being in pisces & my hobbies include writing, drawing, music, astrology, tarot etc 😂)

— Saturn in 5th house struggle with expressing themselves, i had a friend with this placement before & she struggles with expressing herself whether in creativity or love & this usually ended in her being bitter towards those who could or ultimately causing her painful realizations especially those that include self doubt or self limiting beliefs)

— Libra in the 12th house Thinks deeply about relationships and love at night, depending on the person they can sometimes be insecure about being perceived & accepted. these people thrive in solitude, often connecting with the divine, they can also be worriers about past relationships or unresolved issues.

— 1st house pluto/scorpio rising - deep and intense, when involved with one there's plenty of sexual attraction and forbidden chemistry that exudes from them. very influential and persuasive, they often attract possessive & obsessive partners though

— Lilith in the 9th house might find it hard to reveal the true depth of their philosophical or adventurous side, feeling boxed into a role others have created for them. they could find themselves over-explaining or pulling back from sharing ideas at all.

🩵💙💜💙💙🩵💜💜💙🩵🩵💜💜💜💙🩵🩵💙💜🩵

—

these are my own little perspectives as these may relate to some or none depending on your chart and how your planets, houses & aspects align 😭 i actually enjoy doing these astro hot takes. see ya later alligator 🐊

[bbadandboujee]

#BLONDED ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

so after a long day of drawing, it’s 2 a.m, i’m horny, why not do some astro observations idk?

this will mostly consist of synastry & solar return charts.

OBSERVATIONS:

VENUS IN THE FIRST HOUSE OVERLAY/VENUS CONJUNCT YOUR ASCENDANT SYNASTRY: ahh 🙂‍↕️, i have this with 2 of my side pieces!! chile best synastry overlay EVER. this can either go 2 ways, A. they really really find you attractive, they like your style, i find that they most likely like something about your beauty, for example the sign its in, let’s say cancer, cancer ascendants does enhance features like breasts, or big lips (from what i’ve noticed!) or even an hour glass shaped body (body TTT!!) either way, they’ll like that specific feature of you the most depending on what sign its in. B. ok so they MAY find you a bit different than how this placement usually works, they may think you present yourself in a way thats too over the top?? (girl idk men suck!) and i find this weird bc like, being yourself is all that matters so whats tea? anywho, regardless though, they’re gonna find you very intriguing and attractive, but on the flip side they might think that you’re like other people with this placement from what i’ve observed.

MARS CONJUNCT MERCURY SYNASTRY: yoo i barley see shit about this??? but girl the amount of times y’all will be sexting with this placement!! even on FaceTime it’ll be lots of flirting, i feel like the annoying part of this placement is talking over each other? i don’t find it annoying though trust i find it very stimulating..anywho, i feel like depending on which person is mars, the mars person will most DEF communicate with the mercury person first since mars does rule over action. so if you’ve met this person online or whatever mercury person, prepare for mars to slide in your dms idk.

VENUS IN 11H OVERLAY: omg so my venus is in his (i think side piece number 2?) 11h, and omg i did meet him online! definitely this is a friend crush overlay! also, friends to lovers vibes with this overlay too. i feel like its a lighthearted relationship and being friends honestly feels really genuine and sweet, i feel like with this overlay you don’t look at them with lust, you look at them a light hearted love (awe). if you definitely need a friend house person, you’ll have the bestest time getting to know the venus person fr, vise versa.

SOLAR RETURN ⬇️

this was in my drafts so i decided to bring it here chi!

MERCURY IN THE 7H: you will receive some kind of proposal, whether it’s business or relationship related. and if it is relationship related you will receive this from MULTIPLE people, if this is one of the years where you are in a relationship, expect to get proposed too. also a year where you can meet new connections online.

2ND HOUSE STELLIUM: i have this, this year, this just might be one of my best years istg? expect to make a lot of money ESPECIALLY if beneficial planets are involved. and not only that, your self worth will increase hell of a lot. also to see where your money comes from, check the ruler of the 2nd house.

A YEAR WHERE YOUR NATAL ASCENDANT IS THE SOLAR RETURN ASCENDANT: WHOEVER HAS THIS IS SO LUCKY!! this is one of your best years where you’re literally birthing a new project or starting something new, could also be a year where you’re put into the spotlight, achieving something, and fulfilling your natal promise!! definitely a good year for improvement, growth, and just like i said fulfillment.

MARS IN THE 6H: DEFINITELY a good year to get active, loose weight, or just become more healthier. a very busy year as well too. you could be surrounded by men more in your daily life/at work. definitely not a good year to start arguments with your coworkers or vise versa 😭 (edit: BUT IF THEY NEED THAT? GIRL GIVE THEM HELL IDK.)

SUN IN THE 5H: a very fun year!! omg every year i had this in i’d literally call it satire cus wtf was that?? lol, honestly a light hearted year where you’re having fun, not taking life to seriously, also a year where someone announces their pregnancy.

ALRIGHTY THATS IT! hope y’all enjoyed! 🙂‍↕️

[reingkings]

Can I just say that one of my favorite parts of the 457-dynamic in fandom is that usually In-ho’s big bad nefarious evil plan to convince Gi-hun to join his side is — to show that he loves him? That’s it. No frills, no nothing. He just worships the ground Gi-hun walks on.

And here’s the best part.

It works. Gi-hun is not a protagonist who’s above it all. He doesn’t turn his nose up at it. Even when he rejects In-ho, it’s not about whether he’s tempted or not, it’s about him being opposed to In-ho’s ideology. The man, for all his kindness, for all the way he freely gives affection, has probably never been treated like he’s worth something in his life. He’s so touch-starved, love-starved — that actually yeah, being in love with him is a strategy that works.

And the way it’s practically canon too. For example the part where In-ho slipped up and called Gi-hun by his name:

Do you know you’ve known this man for two days Gi-hun? Do you know you’re third-wheeling a room of four-hundred people? Oh my god get it together!

Honestly it’s downright diabolical. They are soulmate-coded and I eat it up.

[itsnesss]

May I request reader showing her dominant side to Sensei Wolf, like riding him and calling him a pathetic masochist who loves being dominated? Thank you, dearie 😘🫴❤️

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 | sensei wolf × fem!reader

summary | you challenge wolf like no one ever has, cornering him until he gives in. for the first time, he's not in control… and he loves it

warnings | power dynamics, tension, smut, explicit content, dom!reader, sub!wolf, oral (reader!receives), p in v, unprotected sex, little degradation ?

word count | 3.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The dojo was empty, only the echoes of the afternoon training remained. The dim fluorescent lights flickered, casting elongated shadows on the tatami. You stood there, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, watching Wolf as he finished his routine of strikes against the sandbag.

"You stayed late," you commented in a neutral tone.

Wolf turned to you, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

"I could say the same about you," he replied, with that challenging look that always managed to both annoy and intrigue you.

You walked toward him calmly, never breaking eye contact. You stopped right in front of his still-tense body. There was something about his attitude that always provoked you. Too confident, too used to being in control.

"You don’t look so tough now," you murmured, sliding a finger along his arm, feeling the tension beneath his skin.

He raised an eyebrow.

"And what’s that supposed to mean?"

You smirked and took a step closer, forcing him to lean slightly to maintain the distance.

"It means I wonder what would happen if you stopped being the one always in charge."

His eyes gleamed with something dark and defiant.

"I don’t think you could handle it."

Laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it. You lifted a hand and pressed it firmly against his chest, pushing him back slightly.

"Oh? Want to bet?"

For a moment, Wolf seemed surprised. No one challenged him like that. But instead of stepping back, his expression shifted, as if he was amused by the idea.

"Go ahead," he said in a low tone, almost a dare.

You grabbed his wrist and pushed him until his back hit the dojo wall. A barely audible gasp escaped his lips. His eyes met yours, and in them, you saw something you had never seen before: a spark of curiosity, perhaps even anticipation.

You ran your fingers along his jaw, leaning in just enough to let your lips brush against his ear.

"You don’t seem so intimidating now."

He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling more noticeably.

"Don’t underestimate what I can do."

You smiled, letting your breath trail over his skin before slowly pulling away.

"Oh, I don’t. I just like watching you try to decide whether to resist… or surrender."

For the first time, Wolf had no immediate response.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. But the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, told you everything you needed to know.

You placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath his skin. Slowly, you let your fingers trail down his torso, tracing the contours of his firm abdomen until they reached the waistband of his pants.

"Tell me to stop," you challenged, bringing your lips dangerously close to his.

Wolf parted his lips, but no words came out. His gaze was locked onto yours, caught between desire and pride. Finally, with a heavy exhale, his hands moved to your waist—not to push you away, but to grip you tightly.

"I’m not going to stop you," he murmured in a rough voice.

That was all you needed to hear.

You took control of the situation, pushing him harder against the wall as you captured his lips in a firm kiss, demanding more than he was used to giving. Wolf let out a low growl, his body responding to yours with a smoldering fire, but he didn’t try to flip the roles. For the first time, he let you lead.

Your hands explored his body without haste, tracing every line with the certainty that you were in absolute control. Wolf, the man who never yielded, was now under your command, and from the way his breath hitched and his fingers clung to you with desperation, you knew he was enjoying it just as much as you were.

"Well?" you whispered against his neck before leaving a soft bite on his skin. "Do you like being in my hands?"

Wolf closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a quiet gasp before opening them again, looking at you with a mixture of defiance and barely restrained submission.

"I like it more than I should," he admitted in a rough voice.

You smiled, satisfied.

He looked beautiful like that, with his sweaty body and clothes sticking to his skin, arms extended to the sides of his head and his gaze fixed on you.

"That's what I like about you," you said, pressing your hips against his. That you always have something more to offer.

The tension between you increased, laden with anticipation. You knew they weren't going to stop here.

"Then tell me what you want," he murmured, his eyes darkening with contained desire. Tell me.

Your smile widened. That was what you loved about this power dynamic. Wolf never missed an opportunity to mock you, but as you delved deeper into his world, you knew he was dying to do what you asked.

"I want to see you do what I tell you," you said in a low voice. I want to see you kneel and make me enjoy with that filthy mouth of yours.

Wolf swallowed hard upon hearing you. His breathing quickened, his shoulders rising and falling more forcefully. You knew he was excited, barely contained, and that made him more dangerous. But you didn't care. What you wanted was to see him at your feet.

"Do it," you ordered, taking him by the chin and gently pushing it down. Do what I tell you.

Wolf knelt on the tatami, his eyes rising to meet yours. You clenched your jaw tighter, feeling your heart pounding in your veins. You had control, and you knew it. But Wolf was not willing to give in without a fight.

"So you would like to" he murmured. "See me eat you on the tatami of my own dojo?"

Your gaze met his. Did he really think he could still maintain some control?

"Yes" you said without hesitation, sliding your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair and pulling it back. "That's exactly what I want".

Wolf smiled, but there was no laughter in his eyes, only a defiant glint. He placed his hands on your thighs and moved upwards, his breath against your skin as he paused at your neck.

"You can order me," he whispered against your ear, "but if I do, you'll have to give me something in return."

You nodded, squeezing her hair between my fingers.

"Come on," you murmured softly. Do it.

His barely audible laughter vibrated on your skin. Wolf seemed to revel in the situation, savoring the power he still had over you. But you knew better. You had seen it, you had felt it. He was a man who was crumbling before you, a man who could no longer resist your desires.

With one last defiant look, Wolf slid his lips down your body, his tongue wet and warm, until it reached the edge of your pants. He stopped there, looking at you with an arrogant smile on his lips.

"Say it," he requested, with a soft and dangerous voice.

It was the last chance I was giving you to decide whether you were going to continue or not, but you knew perfectly well that you weren't going to back down. You wanted to see him in action, you wanted to see him lost in the pleasure of doing what was asked of him.

"Do it," you repeated, your voice hoarse with excitement. He removed every piece of clothing that was between his body and hers.

Wolf leaned down and slid his tongue over you. Your smile grew as you heard his restrained growl. You knew he liked it, that he hadn't been able to resist the temptation for long.

You watched him as he moved his head between your thighs, his lips and tongue working together in a slow rhythm. You slid your fingers through his hair as he moved closer and closer to your center, your body responding to his touch with suppressed moans.

"That" you murmured as his breath seeped into your clothes. "Yes, Feng. More!"

But just when I was about to reach orgasm, her tongue pulled away.

You looked at him with surprise and restrained frustration as he stood up and approached you, his breath agitated by excitement, his eyes shining with contained challenge.

"You can't have it all" he murmured in your ear. "I have to keep something for myself" .

"Of course not" you weren't going to let him win, now you were the one in charge. " But if you want something, you'll have to earn it".

"Win it?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. How?

"If you can make me orgasm, I'll give you whatever you want," you said, feeling an underlying emotion in your voice. But you can't use your hands. You'll have to do it with your mouth.

Wolf seemed surprised by the request, but only for a moment.

"And if I don't make it" he asked in a restrained whisper, his warm breath against your neck, "what happens then?"

"Then you will be at my disposal," you replied, smiling. "Not just now, but at any time you wish. And well, Feng? Will you do it?"

The laughter escaped her lips before she could stop it, but soon it turned into a stifled gasp as she lowered her head.

"I'll do it," he murmured against your clothes.

And, without saying more, he began with slow and desperate movements, his breath held as he slid his lips down your thighs to the place where he needed you.

And this time there was no turning back. Wolf knew what was at stake, and his body showed it. His fingers clung to you desperately as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his lips pressing against you exactly where you needed them. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to resist the impulse that urged you to give in, but soon you heard it.

"Wolf" you gasped his name in a stifled scream, your nails digging into his back. "Yes, Feng... Like that!"

Wolf growled, his tongue licking and kissing your flesh with a hunger he could barely control, his hot breath on your skin as he kept you right on the edge.

And finally, there was no turning back. Your body tensed, the orgasm exploding in a wave of pleasure that spread through every part of you. And although Wolf hadn't stopped at all, his fingers gripped you even tighter as they kept you right there, right on the edge, to prolong the experience as much as possible.

"Damn," you exhaled as your body relaxed, pressing your fingers against his neck to push him away a little. "I can't take it anymore, Feng..."

Wolf lifted his head towards you, his eyes shining with contained triumph.

"Yes, you can" he said in a hoarse voice. "It's just that you don't want to" .

Her smile was innocent, but her eyes had a defiant spark in them. It was a warning, a warning that he wasn't done yet.

You took his hair between your fingers and pulled it gently. Wolf groaned at the pain in his scalp, but he moved closer to you without stopping.

"Good boy," you whispered softly before sliding down his body and positioning yourself on his lap, rubbing your pussy against his member. You waited a few seconds before taking his member and sliding down, unable to suppress a moan. Wolf tried to place his hands on your hips, but you avoided it, taking his hands, intertwining his fingers, and bringing his hands above his head.

You started riding him at a slow pace, with firm but not exaggerated movements. You looked him straight in the eyes, seeing the hunger in them, which gave you the power and confidence to keep going. What you didn't know was that he wasn't just looking at you with hunger, but also with pride, because he knew he had you in his hands.

"Do you want more?" you asked, moving your hips in a slow, circular motion, knowing that was what excited him the most.

Wolf nodded and began to move his hips upward, trying to reach more of you, but you easily stopped him.

"No" you said firmly. "Not until I say yes".

Wolf moaned but didn't stop, moving his hips with more force.

"Feng" you warned him, putting your hands on his chest and squeezing hard.

Wolf growled a little before stopping and looking at you with dark eyes.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" he said to you as you started to move again.

"I know," you replied with a smile, "but it's you who likes it."

Wolf started moving his hips again, this time trying to control the rhythm. You looked at him, smiling a little before stopping. I saw him move restlessly and pant a little.

"Isn't that right?" Wolf nodded, his eyes never leaving you.

You started moving again, this time you moved more intensely, strongly, and quickly. Wolf began to pant and growl, and his eyes shone brighter. You looked at him, watching as his breathing became faster, his hips moved quicker, you knew he was close to orgasm but you weren't going to allow it until you were ready.

"You are a pathetic masochist who likes to be dominated" you said, moving more intensely. "Isn't that right?"

Wolf growled and his gaze intensified, you knew he was going to speak but you stopped him first.

"You love being treated like this" you spat in his mouth, while moving your hips in slow, circular motions.

"You love being touched like you're a dog" .

Wolf whimpered and his hands slipped from your grip, but you quickly grabbed him by the wrists and held him back.

"No" you said. "You can't touch yourself unless I tell you you can" .

Wolf nodded quickly, you knew he had it tough but you also knew he was enjoying it. You continued moving your hips up and down quickly and forcefully, bringing him closer and closer. His gasps grew more intense, his hands gripped you tighter, and his dark gaze seemed to shine with a dangerous light.

"More" he murmured between his teeth.

You smiled, knowing the moment had come to give him what he wanted. You took his face in your hands and brought your lips closer to his.

"Do you want more?" you asked softly. "Do you want to feel me stronger? Do you want to feel me cum inside you?"

Wolf nodded, his gaze shining more intensely, his breathing increasingly rapid, and his gasps more intense.

"Tell me," you ordered.

Wolf began to breathe more heavily, you knew the orgasm was coming soon and you weren't going to stop.

"I want more," he said to you. I want to feel you stronger... I want you to come inside me...

You smiled and pressed your hips against his hips.

" Good boy" you said, moving your hips more and more intensely and quickly, seeing his eyes shine brighter and brighter. "Look into my eyes and say my name" you said as you moved more intensely and quickly.

"God" he gasped "Yes". Your name moaned between breaths.

"Good boy" you said, watching as his eyes darkened and his hips tried to move more forcefully.

Finally, you heard it. His body tensed in an orgasm, and you knew he had also brought you to the edge of the precipice. You let it spill inside you and suddenly your muscles tensed as well. You gasped his name as you reached orgasm too.

As your body relaxed, you stopped and got off his legs. You looked at him for a moment, seeing that he was recovering, and sighed. Everything had gone as you had planned, Wolf had enjoyed it, and so had you. But you weren't going to give him more. It was time for him to learn to wait until he was given an order instead of trying to control everything.

"You have to learn to wait" you said "You have to learn not to touch unless you're told you can" .

Wolf nodded immediately.

"Good boy" you smiled, kissing him softly on his lips. "Now, lower your head and tell your mistress what makes you feel most alive" .

Wolf lowered his head, his body tensed a little, you knew you had annoyed him, but you smiled. Suddenly, he turned towards you and kissed you softly on the neck, you felt him linger a bit on your ear before whispering to you.

"I love feeling tied up," he whispered to you, I love feeling that my life is in the hands of my mistress, I love knowing that she will make me feel good no matter what happens.

You smiled upon hearing his words and hugged him tightly. Wolf also knew how to play the power game properly, but only when it was him who wanted to, he didn't give up, he didn't accept his defeats, he wasn't the dominant one and he never would be, no matter how much he believed otherwise.

It didn't matter, you knew that Wolf would always be the pathetic masochist who liked being dominated and losing control, and you weren't going to change that. But you knew he would always try to take control, but you would always be there to teach him that he would never have it.

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Lonely Birthday - Rafayel

Rafayel x reader

a/n: me when i have way too many ideas and end up pushing the other ones to the back burner. this is rafayel's part to the lonely birthday series i was doing, first part is xavier's! will also be including caleb too since when i first wrote xavier's it was pre-caleb.

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

Tags: angst, happy ending, female pronouns, reader is not MC, female pronouns, cursing, use of pet names (baby)

word count: 3.3k

masterlist

Xavier Zayne Sylus Caleb

Rafayel

You and Rafayel had been dating for a year but had been friends for well over 3 years.

He was the one to ask you out and it was simply perfect, he had set up his house for a cute little romantic evening where you two had a candlelit dinner with your favourite dish, night painting on the beach, and then ended it off with watching the sun rise before heading back inside to sleep.

Rafayel had always managed to make you feel so loved and appreciated.

So where did it go wrong?

You loved celebrating birthdays, whether it was yours or someone else's. It was a day worth celebrating, a day meant just for you.

You always gave more than you received, but it never mattered because seeing the joy on other people's faces was more than enough for you.

Then Rafayel came along and showed you what it meant to also be on the receiving end, to be important to someone and not just be the floater friend.

He taught you self worth, but more importantly he taught you how wonderful it was to be someone's priority.

But then she walked into his life.

You were never the jealous type, always respectful of the friendships that Rafayel had outside of your relationship, but something in you had settled the seeds of doubt, and a woman's intuition was never wrong.

●・○・●・○・●・

You and Rafayel had been planning this birthday date for a couple of months now. You both planned to go to the aquarium for a lunch surrounded by the cute sea creatures, after that you had tickets booked to watch the latest instalment of your favourite movie series followed by a light dinner at home and a surprise that Rafayel had planned, one that he would refuse to tell you no matter how much you probed.

Unfortunately, the weeks leading up to your birthday were nothing but anxiety filled. Lately, Rafayel has been hanging out with his new bodyguard more often than you'd like to acknowledge.

You were never one to police who he can and can't hang out with, but there was just something about her and the way he acted around her that had you feeling insecure, but you'd rather not admit that out loud.

Every time you guys spent time together it was always 'Miss Bodyguard this' or 'Miss Bodyguard that,' it got to a point where you had to subtly point it out as to not come off as a jealous or controlling girlfriend.

And it worked, for a day.

You had called Rafayel the day before your birthday to confirm that your plans were still happening.

"Yeah, yeah don't worry cutie. I'll be there."

You felt a bit of relief when he said yes, but it didn't last too long.

You felt that ugly feeling of jealousy and doubt creep up on you multiple times throughout the day, you tried your hardest to not let it cloud your mind and ruin your birthday before it even started.

You should've just listened to that gut feeling.

●・���・●・○・●・

It was the morning of your birthday, you had woken up feeling less than refreshed. You had been tossing and turning all night, the feeling of unease never leaving as the time kept passing by.

You checked your phone and spotted quite a few birthday messages from your friends, but you didn't see one from Rafayel.

You knew he spent most of his nights awake, and he would never miss the chance to be the first one to wish you at midnight.

You pushed down that feeling of disappointment and decided to start your day with a little pick-me-up treat. Since you were planning on visiting your favourite café, you decided to dress up— that way you would be ready for your lunch date as well.

You spent a few hours at the café, taking cute pictures of yourself and the goodies that you bought. Soon it was time to head over the aquarium. You trusted Rafayel when he said he would be there, he never really gave you a reason not to.

Getting to the aquarium, you settled on a bench nearby the entrance waiting for Rafayel to show up. An hour passed by and it was nearing the time for your lunch reservation. You gave him a quick ring only for it to go straight to voicemail, trying a few more times only to get the same result.

You assumed his phone had died and hoped he was on his way. You decided it was better for you to wait inside at the table, that way your reservation wouldn't be cancelled.

The setting was beautiful, there was only a limited amount of tables all under a dome of glass where the marine life swam above you. Colours of blue made the whole thing feel so scenic and calm.

Sitting at your table you snapped a few pics of your surroundings and decided to order some appetizers, that way by the time they came Rafayel would already be here.

You waited, and waited— and then waited some more, but two hours had passed and Rafayel didn't show up.

You were worried, and just as you were ready to call him again for the umpteenth time, your eye spotted a moments notification from her.

You don't know what compelled you to open it, but you did. You could almost hear the sound of your heart shattering.

There, on her moments post, was Rafayel with his arms wrapped around her waist and a beautiful necklace that glimmered like light reflecting on a waters surface sitting delicately around her neck. It was captioned, 'When your cute boss surprises you with a beautiful gift and planned a whole day of fun for your birthday!'

It was insane how her birthday just happened to be the same day as yours.

Before you even realized it, you were crying. You quickly gathered yourself together and settled the bill, not missing the way everyone who looked at you had pity in their eyes.

Rushing out of the aquarium you beelined it home, not wanting to be around anyone.

When you finally reached the confines of your home you let it all out, collapsing near the door you sobbed until your voice was hoarse and there were no more tears left to cry.

Forcing yourself off the floor, you decided to take a hot shower and change into something more comfortable.

Your shower ended up being longer than you expected it to be, round 2 of yours tears started and you sat with your knees against your chest as the hot water fell from above.

You didn't notice how much time had passed while you were in the shower. The only thing that did get you out was the fact that you had used up all the hot water and that your fingertips were pruny.

You didn't even bother to dry your hair, just wanting to curl up in bed as soon as possible, praying for the day to be over.

It was hard keeping yourself from crying when every little thing reminded you of him. Hell your whole room was filled with all sorts of trinkets and memories of him.

It wasn't about the birthday, but about the fact that you guys had planned a whole day of just you two together, no distractions. You even had Thomas sign an agreement to not bother you guys today!

'Clearly that was all for nothing.'

You scoffed and wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, the warmth bringing you a tiny bit of comfort.

God knows how long you spent in that one position, zoning in and out or reality, your mind and heart still refusing to grasp the situation but your body reacting with a never ending stream of silent tears.

You know what the insane part was? It wasn't the fact that Rafayel was out spending time with her, but rather the fact that you didn't even receive a single call or text from him. Just radio silence.

It's like anything having to do with you was just wiped from his memory.

As time passed on, you noticed your body crying out in hunger but you didn't have the strength to get up.

A part of you thought that you were being too dramatic, but the teenage girl in you felt like she was in high school again, when you were just the floater friend when the friends they wanted to hang out with were busy, when you were always an afterthought and not the first one.

You never thought you'd feel that with Rafayel, he always made you his number one priority. He knew about your insecurities and always assured you that he'd never put you in that position, ever.

"I guess at some point it was bound to happen." You whispered to yourself as tears fell once again. You just wanted to forget about today and sleep, rolling over you grabbed a bottle out of your bedside drawer. You took the sleeping pill and just laid there, waiting for it to kick in.

It didn't take long for the pills to kick in, closing your eyes you let yourself get enveloped by the darkness.

●・○・●・○・●・

Rafayel

It was late when he got back to his studio, he had this feeling that he was forgetting something but brushed it off.

If it was important I would've remembered it.

Oh how he would soon regret that thought.

He entered his studio expecting to be greeted by his lovely girlfriend, he even got her these desserts that MC loves so much.

"I should charge my phone first, it kept going off so MC took my phone and wouldn't even let me see who was contacting me."

He looked around but didn't see you anywhere. His studio was eerily quiet, Rafayel brushed it off as you having gone to bed considering how late it was.

Making his way to his room, he noticed how the bed looked untouched.

How weird, surely she should have been in bed by now.

He put his phone on charge, cursing it to charge faster.

That's when he saw it all, having been too preoccupied this morning with MC he missed out on his reminder.

Y/N's b-day! Don't forget your lunch reservation at the Linkon Aquarium! And absolutely do not let Thomas bother you about exhibitions!!!

It felt like cold water had been dumped on him as he read the reminder he wrote a few weeks back.

"I screwed up, fuck."

Rafayel started to freak out, his mind running a mile a minute. He quickly grabbed his phone and keys before bolting out of the house to your place.

Normally, you stay at his place more than yours since you guys had very limited quality time and being at his place made it easier to at least spend some time together. Although occasionally you did go home from time to time.

He beelined it to your place, praying you would forgive him. Although he wouldn't blame you if you didn't.

Hell if he was in your position he probably wouldn't forgive himself either! Instead of spending your birthday with you, he was out with another woman spending time with her for her birthday without even so much as a word from him.

As he reached your place he rushed up the stairs to your floor, the elevator taking too long to come. His hands were shaking so much that he struggled to put in your passcode.

After finally typing in the right code Rafayel rushed in, messily throwing off his shoes. He frantically looked around your apartment for you, not seeing you in the living room or kitchen he sped to your room.

The sight in front of him broke him beyond words.

Even in the dark he could see your eyes were puffy, probably from crying so much, there were tears that still stained your cheeks.

He carefully walked towards the edge of the bed, kneeling down so he was next to your head. Rafayel carefully wiped your cheeks, drying them of the tears you shed because of his stupidity.

"I'm so sorry, I know an apology won't fix the hurt I've caused you. Today was supposed to be your special day but I messed it all up."

Rafayel whispered as he gently stroked your cheeks. He stayed in that position until he eventually fell asleep, afraid that if he let go you would disappear.

●・○・●・○・●・

The next morning you awoke to the feeling of someone's hands on your face.

Knowing you went to bed alone, you quickly shot up in a state of panic, grabbing the nearest object to defend yourself.

It took your eyes a moment to adjust before you noticed the concerned eyes staring back at you.

Rafayel moved to get closer to you but you held a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't you dare come near me. Get out right now!"

You were never one to raise your voice, but the feelings from yesterday were still fresh.

Rafayel looked shocked that you would raise your voice, but he still persisted. Not wanting to let you be alone anymore than he already made you.

He grabbed your hands but you yanked them right out, you really didn't want to do this so early in the morning.

"Please just let me explain."

Rafayel begged, he could feel your emotions radiating off of you in waves. It hurt him to know he was the one who did this to you, but he'd be damned if he didn't do anything to make it better.

"There's nothing to explain Rafayel. I know who you were with, clearly she is more important than your own fucking girlfriend!"

You felt appalled by his audacity to even try to give you an excuse, there was nothing he could say or do that could bring back yesterday. He made his choice, and it wasn't you.

A small part of you felt like you were overreacting, but a larger part of you validated your feelings.

Yes it was the first time he did something like this, but that doesn't mean you should bend over backwards and forgive him just because he said sorry.

You got up and grabbed his arm, knowing how persistent he is you know he wouldn't leave your apartment, at the very least you can kick him out your room.

Pushing him out the room, you slammed and locked the door before he even had time to process what was happening.

Everything you were holding in came bursting out like a flood. You didn't care if Rafayel was on the other side of the door, the hurt you felt yesterday came back ten fold when you saw his face.

On the other side, Rafayel had his forehead against the door. The pain in your cries made it feel like he was being stabbed over and over again.

He knew if he went in there he would just make things worse for himself, but he couldn't just stand there and listen to your broken sobs.

He picked the lock and gently opened the door, unsure of how close you were to the door, and because he didn't want to risk adding physical pain to the emotional pain you were already going through.

Letting himself in he found you on the floor at the end of your bed, he made his way over and scooped you in his arms before settling down on your bed with you in his lap.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as you tried to push yourself off of him, his hold was tight but not restricting.

You beat his chest with your fists muttering curses at him through your tears. Rafayel just sat there and let you have your way, hoping it brought you some comfort.

When your hits became weaker he shifted to pull you closer to his chest, your forehead now on his shoulders as you sobbed messily. Rafayel rubbed your back soothingly, trying to get you to calm down a bit.

You started to relax a bit in his warm embrace, but you were still on edge.

"Do you want to talk to me now baby?"

He spoke softly, the pain of seeing you in this condition leaking into his voice.

"You left me, and for another woman at that?"

You said after a few moments of silence.

"How could you forget about me? Do I mean that little to you now that you have Miss Bodyguard?"

You looked up at him, the tears streaming down your face. He reached up to wipe them away but you turned your face before he could and wiped them yourself.

He retracted his hands and placed them back on your waist, rubbing circles on them.

"No baby, you mean the world to me. I know it's not an excuse but it's my judgement gets cloudy when I'm around her."

You gave him a look that was a mix between 'what the fuck' and 'your words are not helping your case here.'

As bad as the timing was he let out a little chuckle.

"It's not something I can explain in simple words, but if you give me the chance I'll tell you everything without missing a single detail."

●・○・●・○・●・

Rafayel took the time to thoroughly explain everything to you regarding his past and MC. He constantly stressed multiple times that you were the one he chose and this life and would continue to choose in every other life after this.

You deliberated over his words, it was all a lot to take in, but it definitely helped you understand the situation more.

Not that it forgives him for leaving you alone, on your birthday no less.

“Wait, did you get her a birthday present too?”

You questioned, just now remembering the necklace from the photo.

Rafayel looked at you confused.

“I didn’t even know it was her birthday, why would I give her a birthday present?”

You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. Leaning over you grabbed your phone and pulled up the photo, making sure he got a good look at the caption too.

Rafayel snatched your phone the moment he saw it, looking at it with confusion with a hint of anger.

“Baby I promise on the seas I never did any of that! She’s the one who had planned everything and she was already wearing that necklace when I saw her.”

Rafayel explained. You were confused as to why she would go this far to post a lie, it didn’t sit right with you.

“Don’t worry I’ll make sure to no longer have her as my bodyguard, I won’t ever contact her.”

Rafayel said as he took a whole of your face.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm controlling who you employ or interact wi—"

"Absolutely not."

Rafayel cut you off.

"I would never feel that way, ever. This post though, it's really weird and I don't want this type of energy around us. I cherish you too much for that."

He spoke with a tone that was meant to assure me, that something like this will never happen again.

You nod and rest your head against his shoulder again, feeling more drained than yesterday.

"You're still not forgiven for yesterday, you have to make it up to me."

You said with a big yawn, feeling your eyes get heavier.

Rafayel chuckles before laying down with you snuggled on top of him.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that's how long it takes for you to forgive me."

He kisses the top of your head and then pulls the covers around you both.

"Now sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up."

He wrapped an arm around your waist, while his other hand rubbed your back soothingly.

Letting out a hum, you relaxed further into his hold, letting sleep envelop you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Air 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect and abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You're forced to return home after a nervous breakdown.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I have so much for the ex con pervs so here is this too.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The numbness is like a clog in your veins. It's as if you just stopped working. Your mind, your body, just stopped after it all combusted in tears and defeat. Shaking on the floor, sobbing, maybe you screamed. You can hardly remember how it went.

You remember laughing. Not you. People laughing at you. You don't think you've ever truly laughed at anything. There's never been a reason to be happy. Whether you did good, there's always better. It's never enough until it became too much.

All that comes through the fog is Jacques' angry shouting, his mean words, his endless reproach. Not good enough. Not good enough. The same words your mother spoke a thousand times over. It was one note. One misstep. It was just enough to light the house of matches.

Your head lolls against the seat and you blink through the window. It's all ashes now. What you worked your whole life towards is nothing. Your cello, smashed; your wits, too. You don't know if you're relieved that it's finally over.

No. After all that after your meltdown in the opera house, after a blurry flight behind a wall of endless tears, after this meandering car ride down streets you never wanted to see again, you still have to face her. Your mother's spite is far worse than anything the snake-tongued conductor could come up with.

You have nothing left to cry. You rock with the car's motion as it steers up the long drive to your mother's house. The elaborate Tudor style always struck you as horribly out of place. She never settles for anything less than the best.

Her porsche is in the crescent drive and another car. Is it new? A convertible Bently.

The drive stops just behind it and you thank him. He was kind enough to turn off the instrumental when you asked. You never want to hear or touch another string again. He opens your door, then takes your bag out of the trunk. Another thanks and he's off. For a moment, you hesitate. Nearly running after him to say you forgot something. No, the cello is in pieces, swept into some Italian dumpster.

You stare after the car, reticent to face the house, to meet your mother's wrath. The air is dulcet and cool as the afternoon softens to evening. You can hear the buzz of insects and the soft scuff of critters in the hedges. It's too peaceful.

Your ears are fuzzy and your vision narrow. You extend the handle of your bag and linger a little longer, taking in the groomed flowers and the classical statues of nymphs hopping around the greenery.

"Evening, sunshine," a voice startles you so you knock over your suitcase. You spin to face the man as he comes up the long drive, jogging in only a pair of black shorts. You gulp and shake your head in confusion. This is your mother's house... "You must be the prodigy."

You rock on your heels and blink. He offers his hands as he slows and nears. His hairy chest sparkles with his sweat. He's older, grey at his shaved temples, the longer strands of his hair combed back over the top of his head, a small elastic keeping them out of his face. His eyes are bold and blue, his nose reminds you of a Roman bust, and his lip is trimmed with a thick mustache. You look at his hand. You don't know what else to do but shake it. You give your name and earn a snicker.

"Oh, I know," he drawls and squeezes your hand, "Lloyd. Hansen," he turns your hand and raises it. He kisses it, the fuzz above his lip tickling you. "You don't look like her."

Your lips part in confusion, "you know my mom?"

You try to slip free of his grasp and he clings to you. He lets go only as you yank again. You bend to grab your bag but he's quicker. He brings it up with the handle and wheels it toward him.

"Was out for my run. Gotta keep fit," he declares. He is. Very fit. You find that sitting behind your cello hasn't lessened your already thick thighs.

"Um, where is my mom?" You ask.

He cackles again, "she's probably knee-deep in the merlot," he winks and gestures at the house. "Wanna go find her?"

"Erm, okay, but..." you turn and he's quick to step up next to you, the wheels of your luggage rolling loudly on the stonework. "Uh," your lip quivers, "who are you?"

"I told ya, sunshine," he drapes his arm across your shoulders and you wince. He curls his hand around and latches on, urging you onward, "Lloyd. Unless you wanna call me daddy."

You let out a strangled noise. "Huh?"

"Kidding. Me and your mom... we've been spending time together. Think she likes me," he keeps your feet moving as he drags your bag. "I mean, how can you resist a hunk like me?"

Your eyes search the steps as you approach him. You squirm but he doesn't let go. You're never this close to people. It can get a bit crowded when the orchestra has all their instruments set but nothing like this. You don't talk to people, you don't touch them. You just do what you're told.

He walks you up the steps and his hand slowly drifts from your shoulder. You notice it getting lower and lower, crawling down your back. As you get to the top, you scurry away before it can get any lower. You reach for the curled door handle and twist desperately. You pull it open and stand back.

"Woah, little lady, supposed to be the man opening doors," he smirks. "But I don't mind being pampered."

He steps through and you wait a moment before you trail him. You don't like him. Something about the way he talks, the way he saunters, the way he just touches you. You flutter your fingers together and bite the tip of your tongue.

"Katherine," he leaves your suitcase at the base of the banister and calls out. "Hope you got enough wine to share."

He stops and peeks back at you. He beckons you to follow. You stay behind him as he heads for the kitchen. You hear the clink of crystal.

"Lloyd," your mother trills as he enters, "there you are. Ooh, and you're sweaty. Should we add to that?"

She doesn't notice you as she struts over to him, swaying her hips emphatically. She frames his face and presses her lips to his, her tongue forcing past them as he grunts in surprise. He laughs and gentle nudges her away as she brushes up and down his torso. She's wearing a sillk robe and it doesn't look like much else.

"Kat," he drawls, "sweetie pie is here."

"Sweetie--" she looks past him and flinches as she notices you. She sighs. "Oh, there she is."

Her face darkens as the lines deepen harshly. You shrink down and keep your chin low. "Mother."

"Mother," she mimics. "I-- I can't deal with you right now. I'm not ready."

She sniffs and spins, scooping up her glass of whine, "Lloyd, please, get me away from her."

You're not surprised. You've gone and ruined everything she worked for. That's how she sees it. It's nothing you did. No, she made you get up all those early mornings, she got you to classes, she got you to every concert.

Lloyd glances back at you and you signal weakly with your palm out. You turn and traipse away. It's better that you go hide. Even on the good days, that was the safest.

You grab your bag and roll it out after you. You'll just keep to yourself until she's ready to tell you to your face how much she hates you. You lift the bag onto the lower step but before you can get it higher, Lloyd calls out to you.

"Hey, sweetie, I can't let you hurt yourself," he strides over and scoops the bag up by the short handle sewn onto the side, "show me where I'm going and I'll be your very own prince charming."

You retract your arm and stare at him. He's strange. The way he says things is so odd. You usually struggle to understand what other people mean but he's a true enigma.

"My room is... up here," you murmur and climb the stairs. He waits and trails after you. You can't help but feel as if he's watching you.

You veer down the hall and to your bedroom. You open the door but find it full of boxes. You stop short and he keeps from running into you with a hand on your hip. Reflexively, you push him off.

"You sure this is the one, sweetness? I've gotten lost in here a few times myself," he snickers.

"N-no, this is... it." You frown. You're not really upset. You still don't feel much more than dazed. You have some of the pills left the doctor gave you.

"Aw, you know what? I shoulda said something. Since your mom's in one of her moods. This place is under a redesign. Everything's a bit all over. I'm all over," he rubs your arm. "We were trying to figure out where to put the in-home gym."

"A gym?" You utter.

"Sure, I mean, not that you need it." He runs his fingers down the back of your arm. "Don't wanna mess with a good thing."

You reel away from him. What does that mean?

"I'll... I'll find a guest room."

"Sure, baby, let's do that."

You grimace and latch onto the plastic handle of the suitcase, "I can do it myself."

"Now, sweetie pie, I heard all about what happened to you. Your ma was way too messed up to take the call. Yeah, I mean, those things are no joke," he keeps hold of the bag. "The doctor said rest and relaxation. Avoid stressors. So let me take a load off... typically I'd be letting one off."

You shake your head. Huh? He's talking in riddles.

"Come on, let's get you all settled," he grabs your arm and yanks you out of the room. You stagger as he pays little heed to your struggle. He marches you down to the room right next to your mom's. You wouldn't have chosen that one.

"This one should still be in tact," he affirms and pushes open the door. "See? Nice big bed... for just you? You'll be all cozy." He puts the bag just inside and sweeps his arms around. "It'll be nice to stay in one place, won't it, sunshine? And we can all figure out how to be one happy family."

"Family?"

"Well, you know, can't remember the last time I spent the night at my own place. I've been... hanging out with your mother." He grins. You're overly aware of his still shirtless state. "No kids of my own, ya know? Not really the type but I can figure it all out."

You nod and sidle past him.

"Thank you." You cross your arms as you shuffle away.

"Anything you want, ask Daddy Lloyd. He'll bring it to you on a gold platter," he declares.

"I'm fine. I don't need anything," you assure him.

"You look tense," he steps closer and surprises you as he clamps down on the muscles along your shoulders. He kneads with his thumbs and you squeak. You throw your hands up and try to shove his away.

"Relax, baby, it's a massage. Ugh, I can tell you need it," he purrs, "you're all tense."

"Please, I'm okay--"

"No, you are not, sunshine," he tuts. "Just stay still, alright?"

"Please--"

"Keep begging, I love the sound of it," he laughs. He continues to work the flesh with his fingers.

You squirm and squeal as his hands creep closer to your neck. He chuckles as his fingertips dance up your neck then he closes his fingers around your throat. You gasp as he keeps them firm but doesn't squeeze. He pushes his pelvis against your back and you clasp onto his wrists. He hushes you.

"Mommy won't even look at you," he nuzzles your crown. "Think she'd come running."

You whine and try to pull away. He keeps hold of you. You can feel now. You can feel so much.

"Ha," he lets you go and you stagger forward. "I'm just tryna make you laugh, baby cakes. Try it," he taunts. "Might help with all that tension."

You face him and your mouth falls open. Your heart is racing, your breath shallow, you blink at him dumbly. He bites his lip.

"Oh, I like when you look at me like that," he rubs his hand down his chest and hooks his thumb under the elastic of his shorts. "Got a nice mental picture for later."

He spins and struts out. Your lip trembles as you watch him go. He swings the door shut behind him and you jump.

You didn't think things could get worse than they already were.

[pocketsizedquasar-3]

[ID: 6 panels of a digitally drawn comic showing Daggoo doing twist-outs into Pip’s hair. Pip looks a little nervous through the process, with a warm & encouraging Daggoo, and by the end of it he looks at his reflection with surprised joy. More detailed IDs for each panel in alt.]

i finally finished what i was working on for @creatingblackcharacters’ Black History Month Challenge!

so for those who don’t know, for a few years now i’ve been working on adapting Moby Dick into a webcomic. as you might imagine, a text written by a white man in 1851 is oftentimes Very Racist with how it treats its characters of color, and this very much includes its Black characters, of which there are two of note in the cast, Daggoo and Pip. there are parts of the original text in which Melville tries (and even sometimes doesn’t completely fail) to say poignant things or critiques about racism in the text (and much of the text does very explicitly and intentionally deal w/ racism and racialized dynamics, something literally 99% of adaptations ignore), but for the most part, his nonwhite characters are flat, stereotypical, often violent, racist caricatures.

and i won’t get too much into that here (god knows i’ve rambled at LENGTH abt all of this many times & i will many more), because the point of this challenge is to share art about Black joy, but suffice to say that! I am doing my best to intentionally engage with the race & racism of the original text, whether it’s for characters of my own racial identity that Melville bastardizes (like Fedallah), or those of others (like his Black characters, Daggoo and Pip, and his Indigenous characters, and so on). It’s important to me not only to be in conversation with and to challenge Melville’s racism in my work, but also to allow these characters to be more than the one note racist stereotypes Melville writes them as.

So!!! that’s some long winded context, but here’s Daggoo doing Pip’s hair for him and showing him how! I’m extremely fond of Pip getting to be loved and cared for by others of the crew, especially the harpooners (of whom Dag is one). i just think Pip deserves his comically large number of dads who will care for him and make him feel safe and shelter him from the absolute Horror that is 19th century American Whaling (and the Horror that is their white crewmates!). i just think this little Black boy deserves love and joy 😭😭 and i think Daggoo deserves to be a soft, gentle caregiver who can give that to him.

I have lots more thoughts about this and about them and about their hair which i may expand on under a cut or in the tags, but because this is already getting so long!:

to my Black viewers, and my Black readers, you belong in classic literature spaces! you deserve to see yourselves represented thoughtfully and carefully in the ‘canon’ of literature, and to challenge when you aren’t, and be supported in your critiques! your contributions to both literature as a whole (whether “classic” or otherwise) and to literary analysis and critique are invaluable and irreplaceable, both when you discuss the racism in these works and spaces and when you engage in any other kind of analysis or creation. And I want you to be able to enjoy stories of all kinds without people brushing aside your existence or pretending your concerns are invalid or don’t matter because ~it’s a great classic!~ or ~it was a different time.~ your voices and your creations and your art matter.

& on the smallest scale, i hope at least to bring you a little bit of joy. 

I'm tagging some of my art friends! I know the lateness of this in the month means it’ll be hard for anyone to probably do anything of their own for the challenge, but hopefully y’all can still check out & support all the lovely art that’s already been made for this!! @coulson-is-an-avenger @fricklefracklefloof @layalu @brainwormterrarium @seaflying-fliptuna @rootscorrode @holocephal1 and anyone else who wants to!!

& thank you to Ice for making this wonderful challenge, and thank you for all the lovely, incredible work you do on @creatingblackcharacters. truly a blessing to this world 💖💖

anyway, some more notes, because i can’t help rambling:

i referenced a lot of images & videos of people doing twist outs for this but i wanna shout out the video i watched and rewatched and paused and zoomed in on the Most; it’s by kbmaria on YouTube and called “Twist Out on Short TWA 4C Hair | Big Chop Hairstyles”!! def go check her out :]

i loved looking up 1800s hair combs (and afro picks, though it seems they were all just called ‘combs’) & 1800s sleep bonnets for this! the details of the bonnets kind of got lost in simplification (they really do just look like modern ones but with more lace!) but drawing them and the comb was still fun. i also was looking up specifically a lot of Black hair care history and there is some really cool stuff about the original invention and spread of the hot comb (used for straightening hair) and Black people’s role in that (there’s again more i could get into but i won’t right now but do look it up if you’re interested! the library of congress has a good presentation article with sources about Black hair care history. much of it is later the timeline that’s relevant to these characters in particular, but still very interesting!)

i always defaulted to giving Daggoo an Afro when i designed him (mainly because he’s described with one in the book). over recent years, i’ve definitely thought more about this decision and about whether/how to incorporate different hairstyles into representing him. whaling is a…unique situation—long, long stretches of time (we’re talking months) of extreme lethargy with no tasks to do punctuated by unpredictable short bursts (days to weeks at a time) of incredibly high intensity, life threatening, and laborious work. it leaves lots of time to do more complicated, time-intensive hairstyles (which his hair definitely could benefit from in an environment where he’s getting very sweaty, sea-salty, and wet frequently!), but any of that time could be interrupted at any moment; it’s impossible to Plan for when the whale hunts happen and put your hair in a more protective style ahead of time. i don’t really have a specific answer to this yet, but it’s smthn i’m thinking about a lot and researching a lot! visual historical references we have (that i’ve seen at least) of Black sailors of this time tend to have their hair natural and short-cropped (which is how Pip keeps his), but i def want to draw more hairstyles on Dag at different points.

in any case, i do love the idea of him doing Pip’s hair for him (even if the style will be Very temporary due to the nature of their work — he’ll probably get wet very soon 😔) and showing him how to do different ones. starting with something maybe a little easier to do (like this twist out) and maybe showing more complex ones as time goes on.

as far as hair moisturizers go, ive also done a good amount of reading over the years of what kinds of hair moisturizers were available at diff time periods (did you know lots of victorian women used egg washes in their hair to keep it moisturized? i didn’t). i like to think that Dag keeps his own personal stash of natural oil of some kind — he may have access to coconut oil/cedarwood oil/smthn like that. and if he’s ever in a pinch, apparently whale oil is a fine hair moisturizer! and was even used in cosmetics in the 20th century! so hey. got plenty of that around lmao

i think that’s all i have to say for now lmao. thank you again Ice for making this challenge 💖💖

[fireinmoonshot]

soft hearted | joaquin torres x fem! reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: You're not the type of person to go clubbing – but Joaquin is pretty good at convincing you to come along with him when he goes. Yet, when an interaction with another man at the club goes badly, Joaquin is there to pick up the pieces and make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of drinking/clubbing/eating/food as well as a guy at the club being creepy and physically grabbing the readers wrist, causing a bruise. Word Count: 4.1k A/N: Here I am with another Joaquin fic! I really love how this one turned out. I honestly wrote it just this afternoon in a few hours, I started it and I couldn't stop working on it. I'm really happy with it so I hope those of you who read it enjoy it, even though it's longer than my last Joaquin fic! Please let me know if you liked it and if you'd like to read more Joaquin from me! 💗

“Did I ever say thank you for coming out with us tonight?” Joaquin says, placing a hand on the small of your back to help guide you as the two of you make your way through the crowd, heading back to your booth where your friends are waiting for their drinks.

He’s been texting you all day trying to convince you to join them tonight – but you are the one member of your friendship group that isn’t into partying and clubbing. It’s always difficult to convince you to leave your house once you’re there. 

It never stops Joaquin from trying though. He always enjoys clubbing more when you come out with them. Even just being in your presence is something he loves – whether he’s at a club or anywhere else.

“Oh, just about ten times,” you flash him a grin, trying to avoid bumping into anyone and spilling the drinks. Your friends had been waiting long enough considering how busy the club was. 

Joaquin laughs, the sound audible above the loud music in the bar. It’s a familiar sound and one that instantly comforts you despite your unease at being in such a crowded place. “Definitely room for me to improve, then, angel. What do you think?” 

“I think, pretty boy, that you could probably benefit from inviting me out somewhere other than a packed club sometimes, simply so I can talk to you without having to yell!” You joke, flashing him a look as you finally get back to the booth where your friends are waiting, placing the tray with all of their drinks on it on the table. They all take their drinks, yelling thank you’s at you and Joaquin as you take your seats again. 

“You guys made it!” One of your friends, Cruz, yells out at the both of you.

Joaquin meets your eyes from across the table with a grimace. Cruz is incredibly drunk by the sound of his slurred voice. Joaquin is only a few drinks deep and he’s nowhere near as far gone as Cruz is. You both share an amused smile as Joaquin takes a swig of his beer.

Clubs are not your thing, never have been. It just so happens that you’ve befriended several people that love them – Joaquin being quite the enthusiast. He’s dragged you out to many clubs over the city in the time since you’ve known him. If it were anyone else, you were pretty sure you never would’ve gone… but with Joaquin, you don’t mind it. His presence is comforting, even in such a busy and chaotic atmosphere.

Joaquin is the kind of guy that all the girls and guys in clubs like these like, and on nights like this, you can understand why. The way he looks, a smile on his face as he laughs at something one of your friends says, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead from the warm air. He’s effortlessly attractive to anyone that looks at him. He’s so comfortable here. You’ve always found Joaquin attractive, but even you can admit that he looks even more attractive when he’s in a place like this – if that’s even possible.

You take a long sip of your drink – water, having decided early in the night that you were gonna be the designated driver for your friends so that they could all enjoy their night properly. 

“I’m just going to the bathroom, okay?” You lean into your friend, Katy, sitting beside you to tell her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll take my phone with me if you need me!”

She nods, a little pre-occupied in a conversation with the guy beside her – someone she’d met earlier in the night at the club and had been with you guys ever since. Your eyes fall on Joaquin briefly, still laughing at something he’d heard, as you stand from the booth.

It’s difficult to make your way through the crowd without Joaquin guiding you, making you feel safe with his hands on you, but you manage. When you see the door to the bathrooms you almost let out a sigh of relief. They’re empty when you finally make your way inside – another relief. Girls at clubs can be nice, but they can also be the entire opposite and it’s nice to have a moment completely to yourself to have a second to breathe.

Once you’re done, you take another long breath before leaving the bathroom, preparing yourself for the walk back through the crowd of people dancing so you can get back to your friends. You walk past the bar first, finding it to be a little less crowded than the dance floor.

It’s louder over this side of the room, the music thudding and thumping since you’re closer to the speakers. It’s probably the reason you don’t hear the voice of someone beside you at the bar trying to talk to you as you attempt to make your way past. You only realise when a hand grabs your wrist, tugging you backwards. You stumble a little, bracing yourself on the edge of the bar, eyes falling on a light haired man sitting on a stool at the bar. The way he’s looking at you already makes you feel uneasy. 

“Do you often ignore people who are trying to talk to you, honey?” He says, voice raised enough for you to be able to hear him.

“I’m sorry?” You furrow your eyebrows. “If you said something before, I didn’t hear it. It’s pretty loud in here.” You point towards the roof of the bar where the speakers are. 

He laughs, a sound completely opposite to the sound of Joaquin’s earlier. This mans laugh immediately unsettles you and if he wasn’t still holding onto your wrist, you would be gone. But he has an uncomfortably tight grip on it and you doubt he’s planning to let go.

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffs, then picks up his drink and takes a long sip of it. “Listen, I don’t appreciate being ignored, okay? I put myself out there to talk to you, so I’d appreciate it if you gave me the same energy in return.”

You swallow, heart in your throat, and attempt to take a deep breath. This is not good. Why had you gone to the bathroom by yourself? Especially on such a busy night in a busy club.

“Okay,” you start. “If you let go of my wrist, I’ll sit down here and we can talk for a bit.” You figure it can’t hurt to try and bargain with him, even though you have every intention of trying to get as far away from him as quickly as possible when he lets go.

“How can I be sure you won’t run away? Nah, I don’t think I will let go.” He adjusts his grip on your wrist, pulling you a little closer to him. Your heart starts beating faster as the fear starts to set in.

You risk a glance across the bar in the direction of your friends booth and feel your stomach drop as you realise you can’t see them from here, meaning they can’t see you either. Surely Katy would notice that you hadn’t come back yet and would come looking for you… you aren’t too far away from the bathrooms, so there’s a chance she’d see you on her way… but you know that she’s too occupied with her new man to come looking for you. 

This is why you don’t like coming out. This is why you always say no when Joaquin or your other friends ask you to come out with them. And the one time you say yes, this is what happens. You should’ve told Joaquin where you were going as well but you figured it’d be okay – it was just a quick trip to the bathroom, what could go wrong?

Panic starts to rise in your stomach and you try your best to push it down and not let it get the better of you. You know you need to keep yourself calm in a situation like this, especially around a man like this, or things can go south quickly. 

“I promise I won’t run away,” you lie, trying not to let your nerves come through in your tone of voice. “But you’re actually really hurting me right now, so I’d appreciate if you let me go. Can we make a deal? I won’t run and you’ll let go.”

You can tell by the look in the mans eyes that he isn’t going to give up this easily. The longer he keeps holding your wrist, the more your breathing starts to get heavier. How can you get out of this situation when he’s not willing to make this deal with you?

A hand gently lands on your lower back and you flinch, just as you hear a soft voice in your ear. “It’s just me, you’re okay,” Joaquin whispers, calming you immediately.

It’s impossible not to let out a breath of relief as your eyes fall on him. He’d come after you. He’d noticed you were gone or Katy had told him you hadn’t come back yet. He’s here. You’re not alone with this man and you know Joaquin isn’t going to leave you.

Joaquin’s hand gently rubs up and down on your back.

“What you’re gonna do right now is let go of the ladies wrist,” he says simply.

You watch as the mans eyes flicker towards Joaquin but then fall back on you, his grip still tight around your wrist. You attempt to step a little closer to Joaquin but it’s impossible to move with him still holding onto you.

“Hey! Eyes over here, man. Not on her.”

The man sighs. “Listen, man–”

“No, you listen to me,” Joaquin steps in-between you and the man, his voice forceful and loud above the music. “What you are going to do right now is let go of her wrist or I am going to break yours right here, right now. And that won’t be all I break either.”

“Okay, sure. You definitely look strong enough to do that, pal,” he scoffs.

You inwardly wince. You know Joaquin is strong enough to do that and worse. He’s a Captain in the Air Force and he’s The Falcon. You’re pretty certain that he could inflict a lot more damage than a broken wrist.

“You wanna find out?” Joaquin asks.

The look on Joaquin’s face must be intimidating because the man finally relinquishes his hold on your wrist. You immediately wrap your other hand around your wrist, holding it to your chest and trying to ignore the pain throbbing through it from his grip.

The man throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes before standing and walking away, further into the crowd of people. Before he’s even disappeared from your view, Joaquin has turned around, his hands moving to take your arm and carefully examine your wrist.

“It’s already starting to bruise… that bastard,” he mutters, his eyes dark. You can hear every word despite the loud music around you simply because of how close he’s moved into your space. “You okay? I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I only just noticed you were gone a few minutes ago and Katy mentioned something about the bathroom so I went there straight away but I couldn’t find you.”

The fear and panic in your stomach has gone, now replaced by nausea. You can feel yourself starting to shake, the adrenaline of everything starting to wear off. “Can you take me home?”

Joaquin doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, hold you close and leading you out of the bar. He figures he’ll just text your friends once you’re both safely in a cab to tell them where you’d both gone – that and he’s a little annoyed at Katy for letting you go to the bathroom alone. He’s annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner that you’d disappeared. 

“I’d drive you home myself but I’ve been drinking, angel,” Joaquin says as the two of you wait for a cab on the sidewalk just up the street from the club. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you close. It’s comforting to you, helping you to remember that he’s still there beside you, not going anywhere. “My place is closer, but we can go to yours if you feel up for a longer cab ride.”

You shake your head. “Your place is fine.” You’ve stayed over at his apartment before, several times, both alone and with other friends. His bed is much more comfortable than your own, you’ve learned, since he never lets you sleep on the couch.

“Okay,” he says, rubbing your back gently as the cab pulls up in front of you.

He lets you in first before sitting beside you and telling the cab driver his address. One of his hands holds yours, his thumb gently sweeping back and forth over your skin in an attempt to help calm you down. He can see how uneasy you still feel after it all. Why had he not gotten to you sooner? Not realised you were missing sooner? 

The cab ride back to his apartment is silent, as is the elevator ride up to his floor. You wait beside him, arms crossed over your chest as he unlocks his front door and lets you inside first. 

“You wanna shower or something?” He asks, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah, I think that’d help,” your voice is small. The sound of it makes Joaquin’s heart hurt. 

“You remember where I keep my clothes? You can help yourself, angel.” 

You nod, reaching over to gently squeeze his hand again before heading towards his bedroom to get some of his clothes to change into before heading into the bathroom just off of his bedroom. 

While you shower, Joaquin kicks off his shoes, steps into the kitchen and starts working on making you something to eat. Something warm, something comforting. He’s become a pretty decent cook over the past few years and cooking for you is one of his favourite things to do. He’s always inviting you over for dinner, which is exactly the reason why you know where he keeps his clothes – you eat, you stay late talking, Joaquin refuses to let you go home when it’s so late at night and he has a perfectly comfortable bed.

His heart almost stops in his chest as he sees you walking out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of his sweatpants and a shirt. “I know I’ve said this before, angel, but you look damn good in my clothes,” he flashes you a grin. 

You teasingly roll your eyes at him as you walk into the kitchen, arms crossed over your chest as you try and suss out what he’s cooking you. “Bet you say that to all the friends you let stay over and borrow your clothes, Torres.”

Joaquin snorts. “Bold of you to assume I have other friends staying over.”

He doesn’t. Even out of your friendship group, you are the only person who’s stayed over in the last several months and especially the only person he’s let sleep in his bed and borrow his clothes. He’s not willing to admit to himself what that really means. Not yet.

“What are you cooking?” You ask, peeking inside the pot on the stove.

“Pozole,” he says, coming up beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. He’s apparently incapable of keeping his hands to himself when he’s worried about you. “It won’t be ready for another hour and a half at least, but I figured cooking you something comforting and warm might be nice. I was already gonna cook it for dinner this week so I had everything in the fridge ready to go.” 

“Joaquin, you didn’t have to do that,” you glance over at him. “Really, I would’ve been fine with a cup of tea or a pack of cup noodles. And it’s so late.” You mean it honestly, even though the fact that he’s been prepping everything for this while you were showering sits heavy and meaningful in your stomach. No one ever does things like this for you… except Joaquin.

He shrugs his shoulders and moves away from the stove, hands on your waist so that you move with him. He directs you over to the couch, waiting till you sit down before he puts a blanket in your lap and attempts – badly – to tuck you in. 

“What are you doing?” You can’t help but laugh. 

“You are gonna sit here for the next hour and a half, till the pozole is ready, put on a movie or something, and just try and relax. And I am gonna sit beside you, once I get changed out of these sweaty ass clothes,” he says, standing back up straight. “I’ll be two minutes, angel!” He calls out, hurrying away from you towards his bedroom.

You smile to yourself as you grab the remote to the TV and try your best to curl up under the blanket. It’s amusing, how quickly things can change. An hour ago, you were in the club with Joaquin, who was having the time of his life, and now here you are, curled up on his couch in his clothes. Your eyes drift down to your wrist, where a bruise is already starting to form, and you wince. That’s going to be painful when it fully forms.

Joaquin comes back out a few minutes later, wearing a similar pair of sweatpants and a muscle tank that causes you to focus on his biceps for much too long. You barely even notice that he’s carrying something in one of his hands. 

“Uh, what’s that?” You ask, motioning to the tube.

“It’s cream that’s meant to help bruises,” he says, lowering himself down onto the couch beside you. “I forgot I had it but I bought it for myself not long after I became Falcon. Will you let me put it on you?” 

You nod, letting him take your arm in his gentle grip. He squeezes some of the cream onto your wrist and gently massages it in. It hurts already, even with just the slightest bit of pressure, but you try your best to ignore it and focus on the look of concentration on Joaquin’s face. He looks up at you afterwards, catching you staring. 

“See something you like, angel?”

You look away, a little flustered, and pull your wrist out of his grip. “Thank you.”

He grins and stands up, heading back towards the bathroom to put the tube away and wash the cream off of his hands. He knew it might not be the right time to be teasing with you, but he had to be – this was the Joaquin you knew, and he could tell that right now, the last thing you wanted was for him to treat you like you were something breakable, like what had happened at the bar was something you couldn’t move past. 

“All right, what are we watching?” He says as he walks back to the couch, climbing over the back of it and settling down next to you, resting his arms up on the back of the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “You pick somethin’ good?”

You surprise him by passing him the remote. “You choose. I can’t find anything.”

He almost freezes solid when he feels your head lean down on his shoulder. He lets his arm fall around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest so you can rest comfortably. 

“What if I pick something you don’t like?” He asks, trying his hardest not to stare at the top of your head and hope to hell you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating, even though you’re laying on the opposite side of his chest.

“Nah, you won’t,” you say. “I like everything you like.”

Joaquin clears his throat and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, what if I put on The Conjuring or something?” 

“You wouldn’t,” you mutter, knowing him well enough to know he’s joking.

“What if I’m being serious, angel? What if all I want is to put on a scary movie so you get all frightened and have no choice but to cuddle up to me in search of safety?” He grins. 

“Joaquin, I’m already cuddled up to you.”

He pauses. “Okay, well that’s true.”

“Just pick a movie, Joaquin.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You’re thirty minutes into the movie by the time you speak again. Joaquin is invested in the story but the second you speak, his entire attention is on you. 

“Thank you for saving me tonight, Joaquin,” your voice is quiet.

Joaquin gently rubs your shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. You don’t have to thank me for anything, angel. You know that, right? I should’ve noticed and come after you as soon as you left. Katy should’ve never let you go to the bathroom alone either.”

He can’t help the bitterness in his tone. 

“I didn’t meant to ruin your night, Joaquin,” you mutter, seemingly ignoring everything that he’d just said to you. 

Joaquin is quick to sit up straight, making you move from your spot on his chest. You look at him, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden movement. He gently cups your face in his hands. 

“Ruin my night? Angel, you did not ruin my night. Did you not hear anything I just said? In fact, you probably made my night even better than it already was. I mean, c’mon, pozole and being curled up on the couch watching a movie with you is a hell of a lot better than being out in that club without you,” Joaquin admits, his honesty getting the better of him. 

You frown a little, eyes clouding with tears. Joaquin is quick to wipe one from your cheek after it falls. His heart hurts at the sight of the tears in your eyes. 

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you into his chest again, wrapping his arms around you and letting you cry into his chest. Your arms wrap around him, gripping the material of his shirt. One of his hands rubs up and down on your back in an attempt to relax you. “I always ask you to come out with us cause I enjoy it more when you’re there. I thought you knew that. And I know the clubs aren’t your scene, but I figured you didn’t hate them that much if you said yes to me every now and then. I promise I won’t ask you again, angel. Especially after what that prick did tonight. I almost knocked his jaw in then and there.”

He smiles as he hears something that sounds like a sob like laugh come from you. 

“If I ever see him again, I can’t promise I won’t break his wrist, believe me.”

“No, you won’t,” you mutter, pulling away from his hug. 

His hands immediately move to your face again, clearing the tears off of your cheeks. 

“Maybe I will,” he shrugs.

“You’re too much of a sweetheart for that, Joaquin Torres. I mean… look at everything you’ve done for me tonight. You telling me you’re not a soft hearted person?” You ask.

Joaquin smiles to himself. “Angel, I’m just soft hearted for you,” he confesses. “Now, I’m gonna quickly go check on this pozole okay?” He stands up from the couch, stretching his legs and padding over towards the kitchen – mostly just to make it so you don’t feel obligated to say anything in return. 

He’s standing in front of the stove, stirring the pozole with a wooden spoon, when he feels your arms snake around him from behind, surprising him with a back hug. “Uhhh, what’s happening right now?” He asks, pausing his stirring.

“Thank you,” is all you offer in answer.

“Angel, what’s going on?”

You remove your arms from around him so he can turn around and face you again. He’s about to ask you what you’re thinking when you lean up and press your lips to his cheek before bounding back over to the couch without another word. Joaquin stands, staring after you in shock. He feels like his cheek has been burned – in a good way, if that’s even possible.

“Hurry up and finish stirring that pozole, pretty boy!” You call out from your spot on the couch. “I wanna finish watching this movie and my pillow has gone missing.” 

Joaquin lets out a small laugh, gives the pozole another small stir and starts walking back over to you. “I suppose I’m the pillow?” He asks, shaking his head. “I’m comin’, angel. I’m comin’.”