#if you support her works in any way you support her.
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I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.
Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.
Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.
Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.
Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.
Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.
Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]
And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.
Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.
And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)
Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.
But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.
They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.
Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.
And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.
What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.
But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.
Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.
[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]
I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.
#911 abc#911 spoilers#911 review#long post#911 season 8#evan buckley#eddie diaz#hen wilson#chimney han#maddie han#bobby nash#athena grant
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Getting closer (Kang Hyewon)
âAll Iâm saying isââ Hyewon looks away, drink in hand, taking a little sip, calm and alluring as ever, âif you only want to see me naked, then you could have just said so.â
You widely stare back, silent, indifferentâor at least pretend to be. Itâs gotten you a fair amount of awards, after all. Itâs not the slightest bit of convincing whatsoever. Â
She laughs, softly, as if this was the expected outcome. âSo Iâm taking that as an admission.âÂ
Setting down the near-empty wine glass on the bathroom sink, Hyewon attempts to walk away, only to be stopped by a sudden pull. Your hand appears tightly wrapped around her dainty wrist, unwilling to let go. Your eyes aimlessly wander up and down the empty void that is her black dress. There are hardly any thoughts behind that predictably empty head of yours, only the simplest of desires.
You catch the subtlest grin forming on her saccharine lips. You fucking hate how she makes you feel. How she makes your heart race with every exchange.
Despite all the time youâve spent together, you wish you got to know her better.
âââââ
The last year and a half of your career has mostly centered around one thing, or in this case, one person: Kang Hyewon. Thereâs also this drama starring your pairing as co-leads, and youâve been promoting together, but your names make up more of the headlines than the very show. Your names are synonymously tied together akin to an actual couple.
Unsurprisingly, Hyewon is damn gorgeous. Itâs how sheâs getting the calls to begin with. Another one of those former singers turned actors looking to be taken seriously within the larger entertainment industry. Most never make it past their first project and fall back on their old careers, with some completely flaming out of the spotlight altogether. Sheâs an exception. A minor part here, a supporting cameo thereâuntil sheâs more than pleasant eye candy. A starlet who knows how to pick what roles would showcase her talents the most.Â
Sheâs the perfect blend of beauty goddess and hotshot young star that the internet can get behind.
So it comes as a surprise when sheâs casted as second fiddle to you, the first billingâand everyone comes away talking about her more. The scene stealer.Â
(This plucky rival agent, investigating a case your character has been trailing for years, barely scraping by with the thinnest of clues, only for her to uncover the mystery only days after starting the investigation. The writing screams Mary Sue, but she acts convincing and vulnerable enough to escape the scathing think pieces thatâs commonly associated with such characters. Not to mention: you both look damn good together on screen and during your public appearances.
Itâs a team that sailed a thousand shipsâboth for your characters and in the real world.)
The consummate professional you are, you donât think much of it. Your filming experience can only be described as businesslike. Except for the scenes where youâre together on screen, youâve been separated at armsâ length, only exchanging words between takes to keep any further relationship from developing. Itâs only during the press tour where youâve finally gotten somewhat close.
Perhaps a little too close for comfort. Enough to make video compilations by overzealous fans who think you and Hyewon are really an item. The evidence is everywhereâin interviews, behind the scenes content, and on both your Instagram pages. At least, thatâs what they want to believe. Everyone else brushes it off as two hot people being hot together, and not much else.
Hereâs the thing: you love Hyewonâthat much is true. The question now is: does she love you back?
Thankfully, your duo doesnât get in the way of the show being lauded, despite making up a majority of its fandom. Positive reviews from both critics and viewers, especially in regards to your chemistry. The connection between you two is one in a million, something that canât be built over years and years of working together. It also helps your performances sell the dynamic incredibly wellâwell enough to create those delusional shippers that form the bedrock of your partnership.Â
Your names were positioned to go far during awards season. Not the consensus top pick, but as dark horse contenders to steal one every now and then. And while you both won your fair share of accolades, neither of you ended up walking away with the top prize. The conversation during the final ceremony of the year consisted primarily of the media and viewers talking about how your appearances together these last few monthsâand how youâre a match made in heaven.Â
Everyoneâs gonna miss this pairingâand so will you.
Now youâre back at square one. Having snuck away from the afterparty currently celebrating the dozen or so awards your show won earlier tonight, youâve brought Hyewon back to your hotel room. Neither of you cared once you both lost your respective categories. The pundits thought you each only had the slimmest of odds to win, so why bother. Hell, you were both itching to leave as soon as the red carpet concluded.Â
Itâs all behind you now. Youâre finally free from the glitz, glamor, and chaos of these vanity ceremonies and can really focus on what really mattersâthe pretty girl that you most likely wonât be seeing starring tomorrow. Your careers and interests couldnât be any further apart: your main focus is movies, while hers are dramas. Both of you remain booked and busy for the next few years with different projects, with not a single one reuniting you two for the foreseeable future.
Back to Hyewon. Sheâs looking down at her wrist, tightly held by your hand. She allows it. You can feel her pulse. You sense that your hearts are racing in unison, tense and anxious.
âAre you gonna do something?â she questions, daring you to pull the trigger. She knows something you donâtâor maybe you do. Youâre blinded by fear to realize it. âThe night is fleeting. If not now, then when?â
Her words ring through your head.Â
If not now, then when?
The same five words, ordered in the exact same wayâetched in tiny letters on her skin.
You still remember everythingâframe by frame, down to the last details. On screen, itâs implied. In your mind, it canonically happened. She took her shirt off, exposing herself and the scars of battle, and you were gonna go there. In your charactersâ supposed words, âCleanââ in your own unique way.
It was ultimately never shot. Bare minimum of fanservice and completely unnecessary, the director said.Â
The tattoo sticks out, not only because of how it's deeply embedded on her otherwise pristine, lithe figure, but also because it represents the last 18 months of your career.
During this period, there are a lot of things that youâve regretâand will regret. The fact youâve kept contact with her during filming at a minimum, keeping your interactions strictly between takes and creating a negative air around you in her eyes. The fact it took you so long to exchange numbers, only getting it done during the press tour. The fact that you never return her messages when she constantly reaches out to you, whether through text or on your Instagram. The fact you havenât thanked her enough times during your acceptance speeches, even when you mention her name in almost every other sentence. If thereâs anything you want to admit, itâs that Hyewon is everything.
Most importantly, the fact that you fucking love her, to the point where youâd yearn moments when youâre not beside herâand you still lack the will to confess to her. Even right now. When sheâs right at your fingertips.
Perhaps she knows this. The signs were there all along. How she often posts your red carpet photos together and tags you in them. How she also mentions you as much during her acceptance speeches and credits you as a reason for her improvements in acting, even referencing specific advice youâve given her. The biggest hint, however, are the dresses sheâs been wearing to these galas, most evident being tonight. Simple all black, tailor made for her frame, showing off her assets for flaunting to the cameras.Â
Earlier, she led you to an empty part of the theater to say something in private. âI wore this just for you,â she saidâand from that point, you had to get her alone, whatever it takes.
Really, Hyewon has no intention to leave tonight. Sheâs just waiting for those magic words. Thereâs no other logical reason for her to be here, other than for you.
She might as well be holding up a huge signpost with all her requests written in capital letters.Â
âIf youâre not gonna do anything,â she says, tone casual, slipping one strap of her dress down her shoulder, the one half of the fabric dropping a fair amount. âThen I might as well do it myself. I was hoping youâd take this off meââ
âStop.âÂ
You grab her other hand, close to touching the other strap, the dress more than ready to fall down. She raises her eyebrows in amusement. Afterward, she puts the seized hand down, convincing you to release the grip.Â
Another win for Hyewon. Youâve lost count as to how many times sheâs been messing with you throughout awards season. Probably in the hundreds. Thousands if you count the interviews and little jabs during her speeches. Every mention of your name is an immediate sign of trouble. You can sense sheâs enjoying every single moment, relishing the remaining time you have left. Meanwhile, itâs clear on your face that youâre stressed.Â
But for what?
âIf it hasnât gotten through your thick skull, then I have no choice but to explain it.â Hyewon climbs atop the bathroom sink, strong enough to lift herself off the ground. She pours the glass with new wine; itâs not meant for you. Her attitude flips instantaneously like a switch, composed and readying herself as if it were another photoshoot.Â
Taking a sip of the drink, she pours the rest all over her dress. It serves no purpose anymore. itâs undeniable that she knows what sheâs doing. That elegant yet cocky smile is permanently seared into your brain. Someone this haughty shouldnât be this beautiful and seductive. âYou can stand there and waste the night away, or you can do something about it. All up to you.â
You can only sigh. Whether out of wistfulness or annoyance is up for interpretation. You can add taking her back to your hotel room and taking this role in your ever growing list of regrets. When itâs all said and done, itâll definitely be as long as the career documentary theyâll make about you in 50 years.
What more do you have to lose?Â
This will all be behind you soon enough.
You finally stop giving her the cold shoulder. âGod, I really wish you werenât such a tease,â you remark, pulling on the dress strap she previously slid down. âBecause otherwise, it would have been so much easier.â
Hyewon seems to have taken your words seriously, because she suddenly kisses youâas in, relentlessly smothers you. Her arms wrap around your neck, slowly pulling you close into an embrace. She smells of alcohol and perfume. An unusual concoction that you can drown yourself in.
âOnly if you say the magic word,â she says, gently laughing between kisses. The lower half of your face is full of pale lipstick marks. It was foolish to think she had turned a new leaf, knowing how intentional Hyewon can be with everything.
Youâve really got no other choice.
âI love you,â you confess, but in the smallest audible voice imaginableâhiding that reluctance behind your tone.Â
Hyewon pulls herself back, smiling toothily at you, borderline snorting. Her expressions convey the idea that you told her a joke, which it may as well be.Â
âThatâs it? Doesnât sound like someone who loves me,â she remarks, tone evidently disparaging.
âFuck me.â The groan comes out instinctively, as if this wasnât your first time getting burned like this. Your head is raised to the ceiling, asking the gods for an out.
âThatâs my line,â she spouts, her response almost as instantaneous. Wit comes naturally to Hyewon. The countless viewers and interviewers whoâve laughed can speak on her behalf.
âYouâre gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?â you ask, knowing youâve willingly fallen for the easiest bait in the entire world.
âYouâre gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?â she repeats, mockingly imitating your voice, much to your utter chagrin. This isnât part of some romcom or a sketch. This is real. Everything comes back around to Hyewon. She laughsâbasks in your suffering.
Itâs the kind of trait that would leave you second guessing whether you really love her or not. As it turns out, the public loves celebrities with a playful sense of humor. Not even you are innocentâyouâve been caught red-handed on camera a few times. Hyewon doesnât need to reaffirm herself.
But she would love to hear it straight from the source.
âSay it. Say it.â Hyewon is urging youâdemanding youâas if it were a matter of life or death. Her hands are everywhere, gripping you by the cheek and the throat like her prized possessions, threatening to choke the life out of you.Â
Truthfully, this was coming the moment she stepped through those doors for the first table read. Hyewonâs gravity is inescapable.
âLove youâHyem, pleaseââÂ
Struggling to push back against her hold, you can tell that sheâs taking pleasure in every moment she has you like this: wrapped around her finger, so whipped over her that itâs alarming. Thereâs little use in trying to be coy or subtle. If she wanted you to go down to the afterparty in nothing but your boxers, youâd fold in a heartbeat. Sheâs the kind of girl youâd happily end up in a scandal with, someone youâd throw your career away in exchange for one timeless night, against the advice of everyone who knows better.
She knows this too. Look at the coy grin spreading on her face. A smile perfect for the front cover of any magazine or commercial. Itâs the perfect facade for the attitude hiding beneath.
âI love you Hyem,â you repeat, showing a bit more desperation and sincerity this time. Youâre breathing against her neck, the idea of pressing your lips against her skin a dire need. Itâs unfortunate you canât make it look like an accidentâas is the idea of your bodies sinking down on the bathroom countertop. âFor the longest time, I wanted you, butââ
Only now do you come to the simplest realization: there are no accidents.
Normally, you should feel some shame for being this oblivious. How a girl like Hyewon is giving out all these hints, to the point where she might as well be spreading her legs wide and pointing down at her cunt with a colorful sign. Hell, a thigh is peeking through her dress, pressing on your leg right now. If thereâs one thing youâve learned about working with other actors, itâs that chemistry comes naturallyâit canât be taught.
And your bodies are doing exactly that. The friction between you canât be any more tense.
âThen show me.â She sighs against your ear, pulling on the topmost button of your suit, pushing down the matching coat. Her leg extends around your limb, goading you to pull away, even though leaving the pretty sight right in front of you is the last thing on your mind.Â
You can only breathe. Slow. Hesitant. There's not a lot of hours left, and youâre wasting more by taking your sweet timeâresting your gaze on her pale shoulder, admiring all the little details. In essence, youâre doing the complete opposite of what Hyewon wants. Sheâs showing a little frustration, proving how much better of an actress she is than you. Imagine being in her shoes, beckoning to someone astronomically unaware for months. So much energy and effort could have been saved if she chose to leave you out to dry. If you werenât so preoccupied with thoughts of her, the many ways this little scene can go, youâd be wondering why sheâs this persistent.Â
Maybe youâre just as important of a character in her story too, or youâre both stubborn in your own ways. Perhaps both.
None of that is your concern right now. Youâre cupping Hyewonâs face, kissing her, nibbling down on her creamy skin, reaching up to her lips by the way of her neck, pulling on the strap of her dress little by little. In response, sheâs whispering sweet nothings into your ear, removing your dress shirt one button at a time. It feels like youâre going through the motions, acting under the words of an intimacy coordinator and a director. Slowly but surely, itâs all coming together, untilâ
âStop.âÂ
You pull back, noticing your shirt is nearly undone as you look past her and at the mirror. Both dress straps are halfway down her arms, the fabric a mess, waiting to be swept away.Â
You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. âWhatâs up?âÂ
Hyewon tilts her head at an angle, unsatisfied. Sheâs staring at you intently, taking a moment to analyze you like youâre a problem to solveâwhich you areâbefore coming to a rather alarming conclusion. âYou donât seem like you want me that bad.â
The remark doesnât register in your brain. âWhat do you meanââ
She yanks you forward for a deep kiss, cutting you off. Reciprocating her passion comes naturallyâand so does everything else. The movement of your hands, taking lease of her back, tearing through the fabric of her dress, coming back to her cheeks, until you stop feeling cloth and register more flesh. Feeling her skin becomes your new addiction, something you canât get enough of.Â
Watching her other moviesâfor research purposesâyou knew she was well endowed, even when they were not on full display. Some of her previous gala dresses truly put a spotlight on her cleavage. Part of you thought it was editing trickery, a perfectly taken photo at the right time, or a bra doing the heavy lifting. All three even. But holding them now, with nothing in between, you simply couldnât believe how well theyâve been hidden from you.Â
Her tits fold, go flush, and her nipples stiffen at your touch. They feel so rightâas if they were handmade for you.
âGod, Hyemââ you breathe out, savoring the sensation of her mounds in your clasp, unwilling to let go. Her taut nipples jerk with every run of your palms. If only you could rest your head between them, but your current position wonât allow you.Â
âThey feel so good right?â Hyewon moans in response, shedding your unbuttoned shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor, taking lease of your muscles and back. Her dress bunches up around her waist, practically collapsing when she decides to get up from the sink. Although an expected outcome, youâre both surprised that youâve managed to get each otherâs clothes off.
And youâre only getting started.
Pushing you away, Hyewon meets you at your level. Gravity does the rest. She stands before you in nothing but heels. What a mental image to remember her after tonight. She leaves you frozen and trembling, jaw agape, your eyes in a daze, unable to find a place to settle your fleeting gaze onâuntil she rests her hands around your shoulders. Youâre caught up in your own disbelief to meet her lovely gaze and that rather sweet smile, quite the difference from her bare state.
She lifts up a leg, pushing herself onto you for another passionate kiss. Taking advantage, her legs eventually wrap around your waist, bearing all her weight on your grasp. Despite her surprise attack, sheâs feathery enough to carry around. It certainly helps that sheâs not the heaviest girl youâve lifted before; you have some experienceâmostly unpleasant and usually backbreaking. Still, youâll treat her like some delicate object that crumbles at the slightest touch. Somethingâor someoneâyou canât ruin, or else youâd be ruined too.
You both end up in the living room, deeply engrossed in a fiery passion thatâs too hot for cameras. Lifting her high, your lips find their way to her chest, pressing them in the place where they rightfully belong. Hyewon is stubborn, pushing your head further up to meet your lips in a direct, frantic kiss. Back and forth, you take turns between her tits and her lips, unintentionally slamming her against a wall, eliciting a few yelps out of her.Â
It doesnât bother you both in the slightest. You hold her there, kissing down her abdomen and ribs, coming to the tiny inked part of her figure. The same tattoo thatâs been ingrained in your head since you first saw them.
You mutter the very words against her skin.Â
âIf not now, then when.â
Theyâve never been so relevant till right now. You softly kiss the ink, silently thanking her for saving you from a lifetimeâs worth of regret.
Hyewon winces, throws her head back, moans up to the ceiling. Her nails brush through your hair, then claw at your nape as you remain fixated on her tattooed rib. She deserves to be adored and worshiped.
âLook at me babe,â she murmurs, gently tilting you up, faint at your touch. Against your desires, you follow. âPut me down. You know why Iâm here.â
You oblige without a second thoughtâand youâre both on a level playing field again.
Still, you canât help but kiss her right after. She reciprocates the favor. Youâre a perfect match. Even as youâre making out, youâre thinking of ways to get messy and get the jump on her while sheâs preoccupied.Â
It ends up being your biggest mistake.
Both of you wrestle for control over the other, a scuffle that ends up knocking down a few appliances and tableware. The sound of glass shattering rips through the hotel room floor louder than your collective moans ever will. For someone with a lithe figure, Hyewon proves to be much stronger than you were led to believe. It shows when you try to push her onto another table; you both end up crashing to the floor seconds later.Â
From there, itâs whoever is the first to get up, and you knew it was all over from there.
Hyewon leads you into the sole bedroom, shoving you onto the mattress. Unrelenting, she slams onto you right after, pinning you down with her bare hands. Surprising her with your own strength, you reach for her raven locks through her ironclad grip of your wrists. Your lips continue to crash like waves against rocks, neither of you willing to back down. Thereâs a clear disparity between you: she wants you more.
To further prove her point, she presses her palms down on your chest, sitting over you upright, straddled on your lap. Sheâs never looked better.
Making quick work of your trousers, your cock is freed from its confines, only to be immediately caught up in Hyewonâs hand. Her grip spreads through your groin, turning breathing into an absolute nightmare. The one fear thatâs been haunting your mind these last few months, finally realized.Â
And itâs staring you down with an innocent yet wicked smile.
âYou have no idea how long I wanted this,â she remarks, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine. Arching down, she presses her tongue forward on your throbbing tip. Combined with the pressure sheâs building with her hand, holes puncture through your lungs. And right on command, youâre leaking. Sheâs lapping your cock in circles, slow and agonizing, taking every little drop of precum seeping. You can only tremble beneath her, utterly defenseless. âRemembering when I was tapping your foot with my heel earlier tonight?â
She leaves you in such a dizzying spiral that you canât even look directly at her, let alone formulate a reply. Meanwhile, her eyes remain fixed on you, doe-eyed with innocence, yet her actions are cruel. Breathing proves to be a struggle, let alone returning with a response. âWhat about it?â
âI wanted you to follow me to the bathroom. And I wanted you to fuck me in there.â
Honest to God, that was not the first thought on your mind. If anything, the presence of many proved to be the ideal shield in keeping yourself away from Hyewon. Losing best actor was the greatest blessing in disguise, as it meant you didnât have to look straight into her magnetic eyes during your theoretical speech and make an embarrassment of yourself in front of hundreds in attendance, and millions watching on television.Â
Now that youâre in bed with no way to escape, you can only accept your fate.
âIâm not the best at reading the room,â you comment, sheepishly shaking your head.
âNot surprising, honestly,â she says, rewarding your candor with a kissâon your tip. Then another. More heartwarming than arousing, if anything. âAnyone ever told you that youâre kind of a dork?â
âNot the first time Iâve heard it from a girl,â you say, in an attempt to show some wit, only to be met with a stiff grip on your cock. âAhâfuckââ
A bit more force and Hyewon could break you in half with her mere hand alone. Sheâs cold, calculating, and cruel. Her expression seems apathetic, yet deep down, you can tell sheâs having so much fun toying and teasing you, stealing what little semblance of willpower you have. And to think sheâs this demure, sometimes funny celebrity with a certain image thatâs universally admired by many.Â
Behind that gaze, sheâs thinking of more ways to further ruin you.
âI donât think a dork like you has been with other girls,â she remarks, leaning forward to tease a kiss, only to leave you dry. âBut looking at this cockââ
She stops to admire your shaft once more. Ultimately, she canât help herself. She has to give your tip another ceremonious flick with her parched tongue in appreciation. Two, actually. If she doesnât stop, youâll soon be deep in her throat, and you know sheâs not letting you go. Thankfully, she finally regains sight of what she wants in the first place.
Lifting herself ever so slightly, Hyewon takes a deep breathâthen slowly melts into you.Â
Itâs a car crash you canât look away from. Itâs inevitable, but youâre completely powerless to stop her. You can only groan in agony as your bodies intertwine, creating a union that only she can break. Inch by inch, you helplessly watch as Hyewon slowly takes you into her suffocating heat. The sensation is unlike anything youâve ever felt before: vicious, intense, and painful.Â
It doesnât help that sheâs taking her sweet time, keeping you on edge for what may as well be an eternity, bracing for the certain explosion sheâs going to leave in her wake.Â
âOhâfuckâitâs so perfect,â Hyewon throws her head back, her jaw dropping slow, every word delivered in a near-inaudible sigh. Eventually, she buries herself in you deep to the hiltâand she keens. âThatâthatâs itâthatâs the fucking spotââ
Your hands cling to her waist, your maw similarly agape, breathing tensely as the pleasure slowly courses through your muscles. âGodâyouâre fucking tightââ
She hums in return, satisfied by your response, before losing herself in the sensation of your cock impaling herâand she begins to move.
As you fight the urge to cum right then and there, Hyewon slowly lifts herself off your lap, your cock reappearing with a fresh coat of her drenched pussy, before sinking back down. She rips the breath right from your lungs, while youâre forced to shut your eyes. Anything to keep your brain firing as the pleasure rushing throughout your body sends you into overdrive.Â
Youâre an outlet of ecstasy, a conduit for her to loosen all her pent-up frustration and lust. Her palms grip to your thighs, keeping you in placeâas if youâre in any condition to move anywhere except for her whim. Sheâs crashing into you at a punishing pace as a result of keeping yourself away for so long. And sheâs being open about it too: âWhy did it take us so longâughââ
You can only moan back. Truthfully, youâre wondering the same thing too.Â
As your eyes alternate between wide open and completely shut, you catch glimpses of Hyewon using every inch of you to fill her wanton pussy with cock. When sheâs not cursing or screaming your name, her moans fill your ears with sweet, sultry music. Itâs a sound not of her high class image. Sheâs riding you like itâs life or death, like her heart will stop beating if her cunt isnât being stretched out.
With every bounce, so do her breasts. Up and down, settling into a rhythm, forming a hypnotic motion that your eyes get lost in. Your obsession reaches a point to where the movement of her tits stirs you on, reigniting your tired muscles. You canât lie there and be a helpless viewer any longer.
And so, you meet Hyewon halfway, matching the grind of her hips with your thrust at the apex, setting her alight. This particular stroke. The hot sensation. It utterly shatters her. Her voice cracks. She trembles violently, giving you breathing room to sit upward and lean close to her chest.Â
So while she staggers back, overwhelmed by your cock spearing her cunt, you go down on her succulent breasts, squishing your face between them. Despite having Hyewonâs body all to yourself, the friction between your bodies creates this wracking storm that drives you insane. It isnât enough that youâre feasting on her tits, that her boobs are bouncing so hard itâs downright pornographic, and that sheâs screaming her heart out in response to each stroke. This will be headline news tomorrow. Yet, none of that is your concern. You have to pour everything into her. Itâs now or never.
âFuck yesâoh fuckâfucking take meâfuckââ Hyewonâs riding your cock, forcing all the air out your lungs, rendering you speechless. Doesnât matter, youâre drowning in her slick and her tits, pounding away with twice the effort. Sheâs swearing through her tongue like sheâs a cop in a crime picture, biting down on her lip in a flimsy attempt to restrain herself, but anyone with a good ear nearby could have easily identified her voice through the four walls of this hotel room. Knowing her, itâs intentional. Sheâs determined to put you through a world of trouble, leaving you with no other choice but to shut her up.
And youâre going to do just that.
You end up yanking her by the waist as your bodies repeatedly collide with each other. Each impact the equivalent of a cosmic explosion, the aftermath echoing through the room. The sound of skin slapping skin fills your ears louder than what it seems in the movies. Sex with Hyewon is much, much better than in your fantasies. Hereâs another thing that canât be found on camera: her soft pleas begging you to keep going, interlaced between harsh whines and airy moans that canât be faked.
âGod, Iâm gonna fucking cum, Hyewon.â There you go, your silly side showing at such a serious moment. Everyone knows you donât proclaim your impending climax. Rookie mistake. Youâre not shooting a porno, but you might as well be with how hard youâre fucking her. She canât help but cackle even as you relentlessly pound into her cunt. What should be a moment of weakness immediately gets brushed aside as you hold her when she slams down, and you finally fall apart.
Impaling your cock hilt deep inside Hyewon, youâre digging your palms deep into her soft flesh, unwilling to let go. She rests her head beside yours as you blast her with thick, warm cum. Her prolonged, saccharine-sounding moan is nothing compared to the loaded groan that ripples through the room. The supplication she makes, demanding you to fill her with every little drop goes through deaf ears. Your dick seems to have heard it loud and clear, though. The amount youâre filling her is enough to rip through her body violently too. She follows with her own peak afterwards, hitting a previously unheard octave higher, your bodies finally melting into one.Â
Just like that, sheâs clinging to you like youâre her personal life support, completely drained of all her strength.Â
The ecstasy lasts for a brief moment. The fall off happens too soon for your liking. Like her, youâre sapped of energy and you fall down to earth with Hyewon in your arms. The end comesânot with grandiose drama or spectacle, but by a calm, uneventful stir.
You should be done at this point. Itâs been a long day. Youâve been up as early as sunrise, spent hours behind makeup and measuring tape for a suit you wonât wear more than once. Smiling comes natural, if not downright fake; in front of the cameras, on the red carpet, on screen, and even during the afterparties. Every time you step out in public, thereâs an image, a reputation to uphold. Youâve done this a dozen times in the past few months alone, bearing a lifetimeâs worth of and it never gets more comfortable or easier. Itâs a miracle you havenât cracked or had a public breakdown, even though your mind is calling for it.
And yet, all that labor and agony is worth it for what you have now. The awards, the recognition, the adorationâbut most especially the girl. What are you now, taken out of a story. One that feels all too familiar and done to death, but it never grows old or tired.Â
By all accounts, it should be a happy ending.Â
Except youâre not done. Youâre not satisfied, and so is Hyewon. Even though sheâs settling down in your embrace, resting her head against your heartbeats, mumbling these sweet nothings about how much youâve ruined her and fucked her to shreds, sheâs quietly begging for more. It isnât about keeping a sanctimonious image anymore; itâs about how far youâll push her and use her. Your throbbing cock buried inside her cunt says it too.
If thereâs anything youâve learned about acting, itâs that one take isnât enough.
Like a damsel in distress, you scoop Hyewon into your arms. Through what you might consider a second wind, you carry her into the bathroom again on wobbly legs, stepping into the shower, showing that youâre ready to take your relationship a step further. Youâll hash out the details in the morningâif she hasnât left by then.
The sound of running water serves as background for the airy, lewd noises that quickly fill the shower.Â
Hyewon feels incredibly soft to touch. Pliable in your grasp, like a doll to bend, twist, and use at your whim. Youâre squeezing her flesh, fondling her mounds tightly till youâre seeing red everywhere. Her tits, her shapely ass, and everything in between. Kissing down her body, giving every little part its much needed attention. Youâve fucked her to pieces, yes, but sheâs still housing a divine figure that deserves the same level of praise.Â
With two fingers stroking at her cunt, sheâs keening, her head tilted up to meet the relentless downpour rushing down over your bodies. Her voice is in tatters after an hour of tireless screaming, in addition to all the mindless chatter from earlier tonight. Part of you wishes to have taken up her offer. Something this good shouldnât be kept secret, but youâre more than selfish enough to keep Hyewon all to yourself.Â
Your raging impulse gets the better of you, and you slap her tits from behind. She yelps a cry of pain and pleasure. The recoil and sound activates something in your brain like a sleeper agent. You do it a second time, then a third. You stop counting after, indulging yourself in the satisfying noise of her mounds smacked over and over, every squeal, every strike equally as gratifying as your cock slamming into her pussy. Sheâs clinging to the walls as a respite, her body shuddering vigorously, but you donât give her a moment to breathe. Itâs what she would have wanted: to be used and taken like a ragdoll.
Hyewon screams again when you swing her around, lifting one leg around your waist, and slam your cock inside her. No pleasantries, no talking through the processâonly a desire to fuck. Burying your face against her neck, growling into her skin like a ravenous beast, you hammer away without care for neither your comfort nor hers. Youâre counting the hours, minutes, seconds before she disappears from your life, and youâre gonna make sure that years from now, she remembers this night in particular.
Youâre too engrossed to see her expressions twist in impossible ways that average humans can make. But thatâs the point: Hyewon is no ordinary person. Sheâs one actress, something that can be found in others who are more talented and have more resounding qualities, but more than that, to you, sheâs everything. The clench of her cunt on your cock continues to invigorate you and push you further. With every thrust, she jumps and sends aftershocks coursing through your veins. God, you love how incredibly well she fucking takes it, and the slightest tilt of her lips struggling to form a grin reinforce this. Youâve got nothing else to say, really; you easily lose yourself in your own lust, and you wouldnât have it any other way.
It doesnât take too long before you feel it again. The end. Itâs approaching faster than you can react. You knew it wasnât going to be a drawn out affair, but youâre so desperate to reach that high, no matter how brief it may be. It was too good to pass up, and youâre beyond waiting a second more.
Youâd give everything up for even a single minute longer, but the period of bargaining has long passed you by.
âGonna cum againâfuckââ is all you can muster, your first words after a long while. Her pussy feels so good to form coherent words. Lust has utterly consumed your brain more than anything. The entire time, Hyewonâs mewling, keening in every direction, trying to find purchase on the walls or the shower door, only to fall a few inches short. She ends up coming back to you, hanging on for dear life. Youâve never let up, terrified that sheâll magically disappear into nothing at any second.Â
Acting fast, as if youâve got a ticking bomb in hand, you draw your cock out, coated in a thick sheen of your own cum and hers, pumping yourself with a few strokes of your hand until you finally explode. The shower washes down the milky white blot youâre unloading on her skin, never leaving a permanent mark. It does, however, bring you back to the place that began your undoing.
The tattoo on her rib.Â
Water wipes the cum blocking the view. Despite those same five words occupying your mind for the last few hours, it still hits like a fresh revelation. You hear her voice repeating them inside your head as you come to your senses, your lust being satiatedâfor now. Even when Hyewon is completely broken before you, reduced to a quiet pile of flesh. One hand on the surrounding wall, the other in limbo, her leg still coiled around your waist, forcing oxygen into her tired lungs wherever she can.Â
With the âquickâ shower done, and after hardly any cleaning was made, you carry her back to the bedroom.Â
You donât even make it past the living room before your legs finally give up. You end up crashing onto the floor together before you both finally call it a night.
âââââ
âThis is your fault you know,â says Hyewon, drawing circles on your chest, over your calm heartbeats. âIâm supposed to be in London tomorrow for my table read. And yet Iâm still here. My flight was five hours ago by the way.â
Itâs already high noon when you finally regain consciousness, your head still spinning despite not taking more than one alcoholic drink the night before. Hyewonâs doing marginally better, having woken up 30 minutes earlier. No wonder it feels so hot; her body is snuggled up on you, your limbs tangled. Despite the urgency sheâs speaking about, she doesnât seem to be interested in moving any time soon.
At least youâre awake and sensible enough to fire back. âWhoâs fault is that? I wasnât the one inviting you to come over and have you fucked senseless.â
She chuckles into your skin, little ripples forming where her lips are gently pressed. âAnd I wasnât the one who spent the last 18 months saying weâre just friends.â
Youâre already lying flat on the floor, but the rebuttal only makes you want to get up only to fall back down. So you settle with an expressive sigh.Â
Hyewon laughs. Itâs what won over millions, including you. Youâre taken back to that fateful day you first met. Right then and there, you knew thereâd be no one else like her. If given an opportunity to go back and change a few things here and there or, youâd do it over again, mistakes included. Last night was worth all the waiting and teasing.Â
âSoâabout that show,â you lean up, pushing her closer to your face, âWhat was it again? Something about you being a nymphomaniac? Delete what?â
âYou mean Delete This? Letâs not.âÂ
Mention of the premise alone is enough to set her gummy cheeks on fire. For someone whose career has been built up on mostly more general audience friendly programming, leading a sexual soap opera is quite the jump. Â
She buries her head on your neck, embarrassed, feeling guilty. âYeah. I mean, last night wasâdifferent, you know? Iâve shown my tits and body already, but Iâve never had sexâon screen before.â
You should have known. She needed a reason to get in your pants without your working relationship only centering around your bodies. And those were clearly stand-ins based on how her face is never shown during her older scenes.
âJesus, Hyem. If you wanted to have sex, you could have asked anytime. You have no idea how annoyed I was when they scrapped our scene last minute. It was only you taking off your shirt too.â
âOn the bright side, we didnât have an intimacy director getting in the way, right?â
She does have a point. Still, your personal cold war didnât need to last 18 months before either of you would make the first move.
But with all that tension a thing of the past, the chains are unfettered. Now both of you have the ability to take this little secret in any direction you desire. You could simply be a workplace couple; itâs been the story of your year so far. Or you could take things a step further. The possibilities are truly endless.
Hyewonâs cheeky grin slowly reforms, her hand snaking up to cup your cheek. âShame we only had one night. I could spend the rest of the day here, butâïżœïżœ she huffs, âIâm running late. Too bad I wonât get to have this cock for a long, long time.â
You lift an amused eyebrow, barely able to keep your new cockiness from showing. âWill you, though?â
Sheâs taken completely by surprise. âWhat do you mean?â
âCheck your phone.â
After rising to her feet, Hyewon walks over to the console table where her purse is set. Fishing her phone from the handbag, she scrolls through the apps, her attention diâvided between the screen and you on the floor, finally getting up as well.Â
Her stare then lingers on the phone, as if whatever headline of the day has caught her attention.Â
Next thing you know, sheâs grabbing you by the chest, dragging you back to the bedroom before shoving you back onto the mattressâright where you belong. Pinning you down and dead to rights, Hyewon mounts herself on your lap, your cock pressed against her aching core, ready to receive a fresh beating.
Some jokes can go a little too far.
âYou fucking asshole. You mean thatââ
âYep.â
âAnd itâs notââ
âItâs not.â
You can feel her hips slowly grinding against yours. Youâre gonna loveâand hateâthe next 18 months with Hyewon.
âIâm going to kill you. And I mean: kill you.â
âNo better way to go out.â
âââââ
(A/N: Thank you for the commission! That Hyewon dress is so ripe for material, and I had to incorporate her tattoos into it somehow. She doesn't show them quite oftenâheck, she hasn't publicly addressed them even once, I believe. That little nod at the end is for everyone still waiting for Delete this to return. At this point, a reimagining or remake must happen first before the next actual episode because good God my writing back then versus now is night & day. Even comparing the last update from 2022(?) to today is also radically different in style. I'm still interested in reviving it; it's just a matter of when, not if. Thank you for reading!)
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As a queer woman in a red state, I needed to see this today. I still love my state. This is my home. Where I was raised, where I went to school, where my wife and I were married, where I work, where we bought our house, where we started our little farm, where my baby will be born, where my friends are. Where my entire communkty and safety net is. I'm so happy here. I love my life here.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
My dad is one of the most die hard Republicans I know. He voted for Trump and yes, it breaks my heart. It makes me sick and at time makes me feel unloved. And I have to remember this is the man who basically took a bow of silence about me coming out for the first year. THAT man cried happy tears and gave the most moving speech at my wedding. He adores my wife and calls her is daughter now. THAT man's beliefs have changed in what for him is a hugely significant way. It's not enough YET but he reminds me that a lot of people who voted for Trump DO care, they just don't get it. Unfortunately we'll all learn the hard way now but it also means there are allies within the enemy, they just don't know it yet.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
My in-laws have been so die hard Republican their entire lives and voted for Harris this year. Willing to get into loud family arguments and strain family relations over it. It's a change I had given up hoping to see and yet, it finally happened this year.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
My tiny town is largely made up of migrant workers. Every business here is bilingual. Including the grocery stores, post office, and city hall. This town wouldn't exist without migrant workers. No one knows more about how much our farming communities NEED migrant workers more than the tiny farm towns in red states. I promise you, in my state, it's the Republicans in the cities here that are pushing for mass deportation, not the farmers.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
I voted for one republican this year. Yep. An Asian American woman who grew up on a potato farm, married into the family of another potato farmer, ran on a campaign to halt rent inflation, allocate more state funding to education and foster care, and supported controversial decisions in the past to protect the environment. She was an incumbent and she won. She's playing the long game of knowing which party she can win running under in her home state and she's making a damn big difference in her little district.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
There are young queer closeted kids here. I was one of them. I was voting and protesting for gay rights before there were any and I'll fucking do it again if I have to. Because over 1/4 people here DID vote for Harris and every single one of us have to stay and fight and be visible for the next generation of scared closeted queer kids because if we all left for blue states, who would be left to fight for them?
Please stop saying "fuck you" to the people I love and the home I've built. The future I see slowly building here can still happen. I still have hope. But if those fighting the good fight in red states give up now, if they say too say "fuck red states," then we really will have lost that future.
I love you everyone in red states right now.
I love you everyone who has family that is/will celebrate a Trump victory in your state.
I love you everyone surrounded by loved ones actively voting against your rights.
If you voted, you for Kamala, you did everything you could and you should be proud.
All of your frustration and anger is justified, understandable, and fair.
Iâm sending you all love and peace.
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A Piece Of Paper
Summary: You and Melissa have been dating for a while. Marriage isn't necessarily the plan. Who needs a silly piece of paper to solidify the relationship anyway?
WC: ~4.2k
After dating Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School, for about a year, the two of you decide to finally jump the gun and move in together. It took a bit of convincing on your end, but eventually, she welcomed the company and companionship that you brought with you. Living together didnât mean you were married after all.Â
Youâve been living together for two years now, dating for three. Itâs a nice situation to be in. Neither of you are particularly ready to get married, each of you for your respective reasons. The topic had come up when you moved in, and you came to an agreement that you were more than satisfied just being partners⊠life partners. The weekday routine of waking up together, occasionally showering together before getting on with your days, breakfast, heading to work, coming home to your person, and then relaxing before heading to bed and starting the cycle all over again is warm enough. But your weekends are always slow, steady, full of comfort and contentedness to do everything or nothing at all. This relationship that you have with Melissa is all youâll ever need in life- married or not.
Itâs a day where you have off and your girlfriend conveniently has a professional development day that, while you are still more than content with your lifestyle how it is, Melissaâs thoughts and views begin to change.Â
Because Ava doesnât have anything against you (you would even venture to say the principal of your girlfriendâs school likes you), youâre able to enter the school during lunch hours and share a meal with your girlfriend and her coworkers. They all adore you, but it does confuse them how someone like you could be dating someone like the redheaded woman. Youâre calm and level-headed, and theyâve seen Melissa in her fits of rage. Regardless, they support your relationship wholeheartedly and eagerly.
âSo,â Jacob hums loudly as he practically stares down his two coworkers that heâs closest to. âDoes anybody have any big news to share with the group?â
You just roll your eyes in good nature at the secondary education teacher. Heâs always so nosey, but he means well. You steal another bite of your girlfriendâs lunch, despite the fact that you have the exact same dish in front of you.
Janine and Gregory each share a look, before the shorter woman breaks out into a grin. âWe actually do have some news⊠Thank you, Jacob.â
Jacob looks quite proud of himself, and itâs immediately clear to the rest of the room that this was an orchestrated act.
âSo, Janine and I were talking last night, andâŠâ Gregory nudges his girlfriend.
Janine holds up her left hand, and thereâs a sparkling ring sitting on her ring finger. âWeâre engaged! Weâre getting married!â
Immediately, the group of teachers erupts into cheers, shouting their congratulations. Itâs all a bit hectic for a few minutes as everyone tries to get a glimpse at the rock before it dies down.
âDamn, Eddie,â Ava looks him up and down once sheâs seen the ring. âIf I had known this is what I couldâve gotten, I woulda flirted with you way harder than I did.â
âAnd I would have happily reported you to HR,â Gregory replies with a satisfied smirk. âBut thank you. I did what I could.â
âAs you already know,â the second grade teacher smiles and claps her hands together. âAbbott is family to us, so of course youâre all invited to the wedding. We havenât set a date yet, but weâre thinking sometime next year?â
âWeâll all be there, sweetheart,â Barbara puts in warmly. âWeâre all very happy for the both of you. What a wonderful step the two of you are taking.â
You donât think youâve ever seen Janine so excited, and that woman is always practically bouncing off of the walls with energy.
But then the naive and in love woman looks to you and Melissa. âWhen do you think the two of you will be getting married?â
âThis is your day,â you tell her gently. âLetâs keep the attention on you.â
âBut Iâm curious!â Janine argues. âI mean⊠I would love to have a double Abbott wedd-â
âYeah, no, kid,â Melissa cuts in. âI love ya, donât get me wrong, but I would rather die than have a double weddinâ.â
âBesides,â you say as you lay a gentle hand on your girlfriendâs knee. âWe donât really see a need to get married. We live together, weâre happy together, and we donât necessarily see the need to have a piece of paper solidify our relationship. But we are truly so happy that the two of you have decided to tie the knot.â
The rest of lunch is buzzing with questions about the engagement and talks of what Janine has already mentally planned for what she and Jacob are describing as âthe wedding of the centuryâ. Gregory just looks at his fiancee with a love in his eyes that you recognize as the way that Melissa looks at you. Every once in a while, he will interject his opinion though because some of Janineâs plans are a bit over the top.
âHun, we canât afford that,â the man says quite a few times. âNot on our teacher salaries.â
His objections donât deter her in the slightest. She just smiles at him and nods along, claiming sheâll find a lower budget option with the same amount of pizazz. You listen, quietly amused, while your girlfriend takes in the conversation around her. For once, she doesnât offer up any sarcastic quips. You chalk it up to her not wanting to ruin the moment for Janine and Gregory, but what you donât know is that Melissa is deep in thought about engagements and weddings, marriage. The way that you so casually explained that you probably would never be married struck a chord in the redhead. She almost sees it as a challenge now to get married.
After about fifteen more minutes of chatter, the teachers have to find their ways back to their classrooms for the rest of the day to prepare and go through the rest of their data while you have to find your way out of the school.
âIâll see you at home?â you ask sweetly.
When your girlfriend doesn't quite respond, you set a gentle hand on her shoulder. âHoney? Iâll see you at home?â
Only then does Melissa seem to understand that youâre speaking directly to her. âY-yeah. Iâll see you at home, mi amore.â
She kisses you warmly, and then you grab your purse and exit, calling goodbye to your girlfriendâs coworkers as you make your way out.
Youâre lounging on the couch with your book in hand when Melissa comes into the house from work. She kicks off her shoes, and sheâs practically straddling your lap before she even drops her bag on the floor next to you.
You kiss her back passionately before pulling away with a giggle and a rosy tint to your cheeks. âOh!â you giggle out as she continues to chase your lips. âMy love, not that Iâm not enjoying this, but what did I do to deserve this greeting?â
She doesnât answer, instead just kissing you with desire and hunger- sheâs being greedy. You canât do anything but give in to what she wants, but air quickly becomes a necessity.
Her eyes are blown wide with lust for you, but you know you have to get her to talk to you before you can do anything else. âBaby? Whatâs going on?â
âIâm just so damn in love with you,â she mumbles as she starts to graze your neck with her lips and teeth.Â
Thatâs all you need to hear before you allow her to lower you to a laying position on the couch, throw your book haphazardly, and have her way with you.
Itâs a bit later that your legs are still shaking just slightly, but youâre clean and your clothes are back on. Your girlfriend just nuzzles into your hold, humming as she cards her fingers through your hair gently.
âMy girl,â she whispers as she dots a few sweet kisses to your head. âMine.â
âThat I am,â you chuckle softly, still in somewhat of a haze after the mind-blowing couch sex. âWhatâs got you acting like this?â
âJust a day,â Melissa tells you as she kisses you again on the lips. Then she sighs. âCan we just call for delivery? Iâm exhausted, anâ I donât feel like cooking.â
You donât quite know if sheâs exhausted from the professional development day, or if sheâs exhausted from the effort she just put in to satisfy you, but you hum and nod your agreement.
âChinese?â
âChinese,â you agree.
As youâre waiting for the food to come, your girlfriend decides that she needs to shower. You lounge in the living room, feet tucked beneath your figure, when your phone begins to ring. Itâs your mother. Of course itâs your mother. With a heavy sigh, you reach for the ringing device on the coffee table.Â
âHey, Ma,â you answer.
You can hear how delighted she is that picked up. âHey, sweet girl. Just calling in to check up on you. Itâs been a while since Iâve heard from you.â
âI called you yesterday,â you deadpan.
You can practically see your mother shrug into the phone. âAnd a lot couldâve happened in a day!â
You canât help the laugh that comes tumbling out of your mouth before you begin to fill her in on your day. You tell her how you were off from work so you were able to sleep in, and then you went to Abbott for lunch with your girlfriend.
âOh, and how is Mel?â your mother asks.
âSheâs good,â you promise. âTired after today, so sheâs in the shower, but Iâm sure sheâd tell you hello if she were here.â
âGood. The two of you need to come up for dinner sometime soon. Your dad and I arenât getting any younger, you know.â
âIâll talk to her,â you promise. âOh! You know what did happen at the school today?â
âWhat?â Itâs clear that your mother is intrigued. Sheâs been to Abbott as a guest reader in your girlfriendâs class, and has therefore been privy to the redheadâs coworkers.Â
Melissa exits the bedroom, wet hair still clinging to her pajamas when she hears you talking to who she can only assume is your mother on the phone. Usually, she would walk right into the room, calling out a greeting as she takes her place beside you. But something in her stops herself, and she listens to your words just out of eyeliner.
âYou remember Lis talkinâ about her coworkers, Janine and Gregory?â At your motherâs hum, you continue. âThey got engaged. Wedding next year.â
âOh how wonderful for them. Let them know I said congratulations,â your mother smiles into the phone. âHey, when can I expect the two of you to finally pull your heads out of your asses and get hitched already? I want grandkids, you know.â
âMa,â you sigh and roll your eyes. âYou know Lis and I arenât really planning on getting married.â
âAnd why would that be?â your mother pries, despite the fact that sheâs well aware of the reasoning.Â
âBecause,â you chuckle. âIâm in no rush, if at all. And Lis has done marriage and divorce before. She donât want to get married again, and thatâs more than okay with me. Besides, we live together. Sheâs practically my wife as is. Who says we need a silly little paper to tell us that weâre together forever?â
âAll Iâm sayinâ is, I want grandkids. And you could use the insurance from the school- yours is shit. You can only claim it if youâre married. And, God forbid anything happen to either of youâŠâ
âMa, we already have all of that sorted out,â you try to reason with your mom. âWeâre in a place where weâre content. I wish you could be happy with how weâve chosen to live our lives.â
âI am!â your mother protests. âYou know I adore Melissa, but I want grandkids!â
âI can give you grandkids without being married, Ma. But donât hold your breath. Iâm in no rush to have kids, if I have any at all. And Lis is practically a mother to twenty five children as it is with her job.â
Something in your mother finally gets her to relent. âI suppose Iâll just have to move onto your sister.â
âYeah,â you snort out. âYou do that, Ma. Just donât tell her I sent you her way.â
âOh, you know Iâll be sure to tell you you sent me to her,â your mom teases you.
You roll your eyes. âHow are you and Dad?â
Melissa sees this as a good opportunity to enter the room, with your mother telling you about her day and what she and your father got up to today.
âMa?â she whispers. You nod, and during a brief pause, the redhead calls her greeting into the phone.
âMel!â your mother grins into the phone. âHow are you dear?â
âJust fine, Nel. Tell Rick I said hey too when you get a chance.â
âI will dear,â your mom promises. And then sheâs off and telling you more about her day. She chatters on for a few minutes before the doorbell rings. Itâs your food.
âMa?â you interrupt her gently as she tells you about the chronicles of her canasta game. âI hate to go, but our food just got here, and Iâm starving. Iâll call you soon, yeah?â
Melissa stands to answer the door as your mother reluctantly lets you go, but only after quite a few promises of calling her again soon- coming up for a visit.
The redhead is already sorting out your food from the bag when youâre finally able to end the phone call, and she looks to you with a smirk. âJust a catch up call?â
âJust a catch up call,â you groan. âWoman acts like she hasnât talked to me in years when I called her yesterday. She says to tell Janine and Gregory congratulations by the way.â
Melissa nods and hands you your pair of chopsticks and food before grabbing her own. You gently drape your legs over her lap with a smile, and green eyes are rolled fondly.
âSo, anything else happen once I left Abbott today?â you ask.
Your girlfriend huffs. âYeah. Loads of bullshit, thatâs what happened today.â
She launches into some story about Ava and the data analysis, how the way that they retained their reports was deplorable- a school to prison pipeline really. You canât help but chuckle at the way she explains the details, loudly and with lots of emotion. Your eyes go soft as you remember just how in love you are with the woman in front of you. The way that she cares about her students and her employment so much is⊠she goes above and beyond, really.
âOi,â Melissa nudges you. âIâm over here talking about the school to prison pipeline, anâ youâre giving me lovesick puppy dog eyes. What the hell?â
You lean up and kiss her sesame chicken stuffed cheek gently. âI just love how passionate you are about your job and your kids. Itâs really admirable. I wish I cared about my job that much.â
âYou know what else Iâm passionate about?â your girlfriend chuckles quietly and winks at you. Then she wiggles her eyebrows.
âJesus, Lis. Always thinking about sex,â you roll your eyes, but a smirk is evident on your face.
âYouâre sitting here in booty shorts and a sports bra with your legs draped over me, and Iâm not supposed to be thinking about sex?â Melissa challenges.
âWe had sex before the food got here. Eat your dinner,â you roll your eyes once again as you pick up another piece of broccoli with your chopsticks.Â
The two of you finish you meals in relative silence as the television plays softly in the background, your girlfriend in her head and thoughts about what had been revealed earlier that day in the staff room, and then what she had overheard while you were on the phone with your mother.Â
Itâs not much later that the two of you are heading to bed, and Melissa just canât keep her hands off of you- and not in that way. You know that you were joking about sex earlier, but youâre both so exhausted you donât even know if you could manage right now without falling asleep. Her arms are just wrapped around your frame as you brush your teeth, as you comb your hair and take off your makeup. Her chin rests gently against your shoulder blade, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed to it. She doesnât detangle herself from you even as you make your way into the bedroom. The only time that she lets you go is when you crawl into bed. Still, almost immediately once youâve settled under the covers does she attach herself to your side again. Her head rests gently on your chest, red hair splayed out underneath of her.
âI love you,â Melissa whispers softly.
You press a warm kiss to her temple, muttering out a soft, âLove you too, Lis,â before you allow your eyes to flutter shut and sleep to take you away.
While youâre sound asleep, your girlfriend stays up for some time thinking about everything that had taken place today. Is⊠should the two of you get married? Your mother made a few good points. She knows you want kids at some point, and being on her insurance would probably beat the shitty insurance that the district offers her. And God forbid something happen to her, she would want you to be taken care of- you would get the house, her belongings⊠everything. But what you had said was true- the two of you were practically married as is. Youâve been together for three years, you live together, youâve been through good times and bad. You donât need a paper to prove to the world that you love each other.
But⊠she finds that she wants that stupid piece of paper. Melissa realizes that calling you her partner, her girlfriend, the love of her life that she isnât married to just isnât enough. She wants to have the privilege of introducing you to new people as her wife, as Mrs. Schemmenti. And she canât do that if the two of you arenât married. Silently, she decides that she might just have to fix this situation sheâs found herself in.
The two of you wake up in a warm and sleepy haze. Melissaâs arms are wound tightly around your waist, her face practically in your chest from when you had turned in your sleep. Your legs are tangled with hers, and youâve never woken up so warm and light.
âGood morning,â you whisper as you kiss her nose softly.
She just smiles. âWaking up next to you everyday, itâs always the best part of my day.â
âStop trying to charm me,â you chuckle. âYou already got the girl, and thereâs no way that my bedhead and morning breath is the highlight of your day.â
Green eyes are soft and full of love as she looks into your own. âI promise you, my love.â
You lean in to kiss her.
Sheâs clingy the rest of the day, like how she was last night. And while itâs not unwelcome, it isnât quite like your girlfriend. Yes, she likes to touch you- sheâs usually not all that far from you while you lounge around the house on a lazy Saturday, but today you canât seem to escape her hold. And if you do, itâs because Melissa is up and getting you a cup of coffee, grabbing the television remote from the other side of the couch, or sheâs draping a blanket over you when you shiver. But as soon as the task at hand is complete, sheâs right back to you- arm draped over you, kissing your head, tracing patterns on your thigh as you read, just simply enjoying your presence.Â
You let her do this in silence- you donât mind it. But it does confuse you. For the morning, you simply chalk it up to still being exhausted from the previous day, but even a time where she should be refreshed and back to her normal self, she isnât.
Finally, around two in the afternoon, you canât quite keep it inside of you anymore. You have to know why sheâs acting like this, and without an apparent reason.
âLis?â you crane your neck to look at her. Sheâs currently sitting behind you and massaging your shoulders as you watch television.
She answers by dotting a few kisses to the slope of your neck.
âLis,â you repeat again, and you have to fight the moan that wants to come out of your mouth. Her hands and lips are almost irresistible. âHoney.â
âI love you,â she whispers against your skin.
âI love you too,â you smile softly and turn in her arms. âBut babe, I gotta ask: why are you so lovey today?â
âAm I not allowed to spoil my girlfriend?â Melissa asks you.
You chuckle and kiss her softly. âYou definitely are, but⊠Iâm not forgetting an important day for us or anything, am I?â
âYou think I need a special day to show you how much I love you?â she retorts.
You shake your head. âWell, no, but-â
âI love you,â your girlfriend tells you. âThatâs all.â
You chuckle and kiss her again. Although you donât believe her, something had to have happened to have her acting like this on a random Saturday, you relent. âOkay, honey.â
You let her continue to be clingy- itâs not like you mind it. Melissa is always so hellbent on showing her tough side, and you absolutely melt at being privileged enough to see the walls come down and her heart show. She continues to shower you in words of affirmation, and the look in her eyes is a look of love, but itâs different from the usual love you see.
The two of you are cooking dinner in your loungewear when she takes hold of your left hand. She brings it up to her lips and kisses your ring finger specifically.
âLis?â
She just hums in response before pulling you in close and continuing to tend to the pot that sheâs stirring.
âHoney?â That was odd.
Melissa looks to you. âWhat?â
âWhat was that?â you ask with a raised brow.
She smirks at you before casually replying, âI think your left hand might look better with a couple rings on it, donât you think?â
âWhat?â Your jaw drops at her words, spoken as if she was telling you about the most mundane things in life, not marriage.
Melissa kisses the side of your head. âIâve been thinkinâ.â
âClearly,â you chuckle softly.
âCan I admit somethinâ to you? Without you gettinâ mad?â
Your brows furrow. âWhat did you do?â
Your girlfriendâs hands immediately go up in surrender. âNothinâ bad, babe. I just⊠with Janine and Gregory getting married, your words about not needing a silly little paper did something to me. And then⊠yesterday when you were on the phone with your ma, I may have heard you tell her I was practically your wife anyway.â
âYou are,â you confirm. âBut I know you donât want the legalities of it all, and Iâm okay with that- I told you that when I moved in.â
âWhat if- what if I donât want just âpracticallyâ no more?â she asks hesitantly. âWhat if I want it officially, and to be able to introduce you as Mrs. Schemmenti, my wife?â
Your eyes widen slightly. âI meanâŠâ
âIâll put it to you this way,â Melissa sighs softly. She pauses to stir the contents of your meal again. âWhen⊠when I married Joe, I knew it wasnât the fairytale I imagined as a kid. So when it didnât work out, yeah- it sucked. The circumstances made it suck a lot more. But⊠I donât feel that way with you. I feel like everyday is a dream when I wake up beside you. Youâre the⊠the miracle Iâve been waitinâ on.â
Tears begin to spring to your eyes at her vulnerable and meaningful words. âR-really?â
âReally,â she whispers as she kisses your head again. âAnâ Iâm not sayinâ we need to rush anything, but I⊠I think we should think about next steps. Ring shopping, an engagement, maybe a small, low-key wedding?â
You nod against her. âI- I think youâre on to something.â
When Monday rolls around and Melissa, now your fiancee, walks into the staff room of Abbott Elementary with a sparkling ring on her finger⊠well, she can only smirk.
âI guess I want that stupid piece of paper after all.â And then when she sees Janineâs face, she quickly adds, âAnd no- we will not be having a double wedding."
TAGS:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead
#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fanfiction#abbott elementary fanfic#lisa ann walter#melissa schemmenti fanfiction#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly
Previous - FINAL PART - Bonus
"Let me see"
You mentioned while laughing, sitting in front of the man who looked at you affectionately as you touched his face and observed him attentively.
"Your eye looks a bit red... Have you been using the drops the doctor recommended?"
Curly: "Maybe... I forgot them... today"
His voice was still somewhat strange to hear, it had the essence of what his voice once was, but much rougher and it was difficult for him to say long sentences, he had to pause between words to be able to say them.
You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, seeing the scars on his face.
At first, it wasn't the same skin you knew; you were surprised at how his body returned to that familiar skin, changing its texture, gradually becoming the skin you love to touch.
You noticed the ring hanging from his neck, with the lack of hands, he wore his ring that way to keep it close.
He had to convince you to give him back his ring, but at that moment you were in crisis because you had told him that the day you took it off, you would leave him. Although you reached an agreement to annul that promise.
Five years had already passed since you returned to Earth, and too many things had happened.
On your side, you started following your dream when you were little, and today you have your own bakery.
But it was hard work getting here, because the first thing you worried about was your husband's well-being, who spent half a year resting in the hospital, and then you had to take care of him with attention at home.
Pony Express decided to give you a percentage of your salary and a bonus for the damages they suffered, so with that money, they performed the man's first surgeries.
A skin graft, hair, and facial reconstruction, among others, over the next two years.
He used prosthetics that helped him walk and pick things up on his own, although just in case, you still had his wheelchair as a backup, which he refuses to use again, and when you're not watching, he tries to get rid of it, but you've locked the room where it is.
You even adopted two dogs, the first was Jupiter, a Labrador, a service dog who helps Curly when you're not around, and he's also a very good companion.
And after insisting for so long that Jupiter needed a little sibbling, you adopted Sunset, a dog you had found outside your bakery begging for food, a golden retriever who had escaped from her home, where it seemed they only used her to have puppies and sell them because she was purebred.
Both animals got along well right away, both quite calm, they don't cause any problems.
On the other hand, you stayed in touch with the rest of the crew.
Anya was able to get into medical school a few months after returning, and she is currently in her final year to receive her diploma.
Swansea retired and stayed at home with his family and children, being welcomed by his wife and the little girl she had had a few months ago.
Daisuke tried again with the art school, giving his all and with the support of his parents, he was able to get in. He even has a blog where he talks about the experiences he had in his life to motivate other young people to follow what they love.
Jimmy on the other hand... The last thing you heard about him was that his sentence was extended further for causing conflicts during his time in prison.
As for the little baby... you found out she was adopted by a good family, and that was all you needed to know about her.
Curly: "They're already... about to arrive"
He alerted when he heard Sunset start barking upon hearing a car park nearby.
He got out of bed and went outside to open the door and let his friends into the yard.
There was something that became a tradition among you, every year you celebrated the anniversary of the day you returned alive to Earth after such an experience, having a meal at your home.
Daisuke: "Who is the cutest girl! Let me pet you, fluffball!"
The boy, every time he went, was determined to make Sunset his friend, but she always ended up hiding where he couldn't reach her.
Anya: "Today is a wonderful day... And the food smells really good, every year they surpass the previous year's food, it's incredible."
Swansea: "Not bad, huh! Did you make this grill by yourself, Curly? The meat looks incredible."
Daisuke: "Where is (Yn)?? I want to greet her!"
He had managed to catch the dog, who was resigned in his arms while Jupiter was barking at Daisuke, knowing how upset Sunset was.
Curly: "She has... a surprise for... all of you."
He said, smiling, waiting for you to come out in the summer dress he had bought for you, quite loose and comfortable, perfect for your growing belly.Â
Everyone was surprised to see you, Daisuke was left speechless, dropping Sunset.
Daisuke: "But! You said-!"
"Well, not naturallyâbut... I was given the opportunity to do it in vitro and it was a success! I was afraid it wouldn't work because of my eggs, but... after several failed attempts... we finally got very lucky."
You caressed your belly, smiling.
Swansea: "Look at that... Congratulations, kid!"
Anya: "That's wonderful! Oh my God, how many weeks are you now? Do you already know their gender? Why didn't you tell us anything?"
She approached to touch your belly, happy that you have achieved what you wanted so much.
"I'm already in my 29th week... And we already know it's a boy! We were deciding on a name!"
Daisuke: "I have a really cool one!"
"I'm not going to call him Daisuke."
The boy let out a disappointed "aaaw" that you weren't going to consider his name for your son.
Curly: "We thought... of Charles"
"That I'm still not at all in agreement with that name."
You pointed at him, making him laugh and roll his eye.
Anya: "You still have time! When is your due date? I would like to be with you when it happens."
Daisuke: "Can I be there too? Maybe the second time I won't faint, hehe."
Swansea: "I wish you the best, boys are not difficult to entertain, they are difficult to keep alive, they love danger even after reaching adulthood."
You felt very excited about all the support you were receiving, happy to have met such wonderful people.
You didn't regret at all for having done everything possible to get them out of that situation.
The gathering continued with everyone eating and talking about the things they had been doing lately, catching up on their activities, until dessert time arrived, everyone's favorite moment.
Curly: "The best sweets... are from my wife..."
Swansea: "You don't even like sweets!"
Curly couldn't help but smile anyway when he saw everyone enthusiastically eating the ice cream cake you had made for that hot day, while he had his own special portion that you prepared for him so he could eat without too much sweetness.
You couldn't resist feeding him, and even though he wanted to seem annoyed, he adored the attention you gave him.
"Oops~ I'm sorry~ I stained your cheek"
You said with a smile to kiss his cheek, you started smearing hkd face with the dessert and left kisses on all those spots.
Swansea: "Get a room!"
Daisuke: "...Did you ever do it on the ship while working?"
"DAISUKE!"
You shouted with your cheeks red at such a true thing that had been said.
Curly: "...Two or three times..."
Swansea: "That's nothing, you managed to control themselves quite well."
Curly: "....During the week"
"Can I send it back into space?"
You didn't know how to hide your face in response to his declaration, you were extremely embarrassed.
But you had no escape, from the day you said yes, that man was going to stay with you until the end of his days.
And you knew well that he is going to be an incredible father soon as well.
In the end, everyone was able to have their well-deserved fate.
#mouthwash#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#captain curly#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#mouthwashing curly#do it for them mouthwashing
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fwb!wanda headcanons
pairing: fwb!wanda maximoff x reader
summary: headcanons based on my two small works breakfast and birthday!
a/n: thank you all so much for your love and support on my past two works! it means the world to me that at least two people like it lol.
minors do not interact
- fwb!wanda who finds herself staring at you with a love struck smile when you get ready at her vanity wearing her sleep clothes (she may or may not have candid pictures of you on your phone in said scenario)
- fwb!wanda who had a crush on you for the longest before the two of you slept together for the first time. she often found herself wondering what you were doing, and if you were doing okay. she usually always called you with a lame excuse of wanting to talk
- fwb!wanda who gives people death stares when they look at you for too long. she hates that she canât vocalize or act on her jealousy due to the nature of your relationship
- fwb!wanda who laughs at every joke you tell her (even when they suck) and her friends making fun of her for it
- she absolutely loves when you sit on her lap on your own without her having to pull you into her. it makes her feel like you willingly seek her out, that her feelings for you arenât as one sided as they may seem
- at parties, she knows you donât like crowded spaces so she makes it a point to check in on you and keep an eye on you from wherever sheâs at. sheâll text you from across the room, let me know when you want to leave. we can get food
- has a list of things youâve said you liked and wanted (she uses this list to buy you gifts every month)
-your parents love wanda (granted they think sheâs just your best friend and know nothing about your agreement) and she makes it a point to get to know them personally because she hopes someday sheâll ask for their blessing
- wanda who will make reservations for dinner for the two of you and, if youâre late, will order you whatever she knows youâll like.
- you gave her a necklace a few years ago as a gift and youâve yet to see her without it on. she changes all of her jewelry often, always adding to her collection, but this necklace is the one thing thatâs never changed
- wanda loves to compliment you because of how flustered you get, the way you roll your eyes and try to look away so she wonât see the blush on your face
- she is a flirt. she will flirt with no shame, doesnât matter where or who youâre with. she will try to woo you at any moment
- although sheâs such a sweetheart to you, she has a dirty mind and will often throw her thoughts at you while doing the most mundane tasks. (innocently, she acts like she didnât say them after you ask her to repeat herself)
- when you two go out, she never allows you to open a door. she insists that itâs better if only one of you touches the door so it minimizes the risk of the germs getting you two getting sick (but you know better)
- when you two would study together in college, she would try to subtly ask if you were seeing anyone (you know why she was asking but never acknowledged it)
- whenever you two go out to eat, you two always give each other the first bite of whatever youâre eating
- on your way home from work, you always call wanda to ask her how her day went (not because you were dying to hear her voice all day..)
- wandaâs a few inches taller than you and loves it. she loves being able to reach things on the tall shelf for you, she loves being useful
- when you told wanda that a guy was flirting with you at work, she took it upon herself to send you a gigantic bouquet of flowers because she said it was her duty as your friend to protect you (not because she was jealous..)
- wanda who is absolutely head over heels for you and often finds it hard to not act like your girlfriend (not that you mind)
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x r#wanda maximoff x reader#fwb!wanda maximoff#jealous!wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x y/n#noe writes#breakfast birthday goodbye
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THIS.
My mother will never, ever, listen to me about politics. Iâve tried. Itâs only gotten worse with time. To her, I am a clueless child whoâs bought in to the vast liberal conspiracies. I cannot convince her about *anything*. About all I can do is mention when right-wing policies personally affect me or people close to me, which she thenâŠwell, she generally denies that the policy had anything to do with the thing Iâm mentioning. But sometimes she becomes aware of real-world things that the policies sheâs voting for are affecting. I did get her to call her congresscritter one time when the ACA was up for repeal and say that even though she supported the repeal, the replacement needed to keep the pre-existing condition clause. It was the best I could do. Itâs gotten worse since then.
All the folks saying that you have to talk to your Trump-voting family members- yes, but also no. You can, and should, be strategic. Your older relatives donât respect anyone younger than them? Leave them be. You donât have to take shit from them but leave them be.
But if youâre a guy and your younger male cousin who looks up to you starts saying incel bullshit? You likely have an opportunity.
My college friends come in two flavors, mostly- wildly right wing and queer people who left the evangelical community way long ago. The folks in the B group donât have any sway over the folks in the A group, and it would be a waste of time for them to try. But Iâm also thinking of one of the few sane friends whoâs maintained connections with both sides- sheâs one who, if I lived closer, I would honestly try to radicalize. (Wouldnât work well online- I know her well enough to know that.) And sheâs âsafeâ enough to some of the crazies that a few of them might be willing to listen to her if she said things to them.
Look for the people with whom you have good relationships, who respect you, who listen to you. If your whole family doesnât, then youâre not it. Look elsewhere. But there are very likely people you can influence safely, and should.
Activism is not cold-calling.
Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.
I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.
As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, Iâve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, âwhere is it safe to have a union conversation.â Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.
Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.
IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.
Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.
This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if youâre dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.
Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if youâre not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than âa break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.â We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and thatâs the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.
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WHAT HAPPENS IN VAGAS STAYS IN VAGAS. simon riley
( just an idea)
I recently watched a movie set in Vegas that had the title (what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas) as its motto and I thought itâd be a really funny plot. Iâll use Ghost as a placeholder for now.
But yeah, imagine reader and Ghost (total strangers) get married in Vegas and theyâre like âwtfâ and they donât officially divorce so, hey, Ghost actually has a wife on paper. And then Laswell introduces TF 141 to a transferred worker and what do you know, itâs Ghostâs Vegas wife.
Ghost wasnât known for drinking past his limits. In fact, he barely had any. He wasnât a light weight in the slightest. He could drink at least twenty large pints of beer and still be fully sober. But, it seems Vegas had fucked him over. He blamed Jonny for convincing the team to take a holiday to America.
He could still taste the fruity cocktails on his tongue as he sat up, rubbing his face. His mask was discarded to the side, lying on the floor. The room was surprisingly tidy as he leaned over the body beside him to retrieve his mask- wait, that wasnât right.
Ghost let out a grunt of surprise, staring at the person beside him. His gaze immediately landed on the wedding ring that glinted in the dim light. His heart lurched. Had he slept with a married person? His brows creased as he tried to remember what had happened. Who even was this strange woman? He had never seen her before.
Ghost racked his brain for clues until he realized that the woman beside him was the one he had been eyeing all night in a drunken state. He thought she was pretty and he hadnât seen the ring before.
He looked down at his own hand, eyes widening even more at the sight of a matching wedding band. It didnât take a genius to piece everything together.
Ghost hadnât slept with an already taken person, he had fucking married a stranger instead. Well, in the grand scheme of things, that seemed a little better than ruining a marriage because he drank too much.
You stirred and Ghost froze as you opened your eyes, blinking in confusion. âWhere am I?â You were just as confused as he was. âHey, did we sleep together? You donât have a girlfriend, do you?â Your words slurred together. You glanced at the ring on his finger, lurching back. âOh my gosh! Are you married?! Did I fuck a married person?! Iâm so sorry!â
âLook at your own finger.â Ghost grumbled. âWasnât married before I met you.â
At least you were a smart one. âOh⊠we married each other⊠um, whatâs your name?â
âSimon Riley.â
âY/N L/N.â
The two of you shook hands, still tangled in the white bedsheets.
âSo⊠what happens now?â You mutter.
âI gotta get to work. Give me your number so I can call ya and we can⊠figure whatever the hell this is out.â
You hand him a piece of paper with your digits written on it. It doesnât take you long to get dressed and walk out of the hotel, already texting your friends on what you had woken up to.
Hours passed and then days and finally months. And there was no call from the handsome man you had accidentally married. And there was no chance of even divorcing if you couldnât get in contact with him.
So you endured it. And whenever your friends asked about the ring, you told them the story of how you had managed to get drunk and marry a total stranger. They found it hilarious.
Kate Laswell was the woman who entirely changed your life, in more ways than another. When you were a teenager, she helped you out of a slump. You owed her a great deal for saving you at your worst. So when she asked you to transfer from your secretary line of work in the military to a special operations unit as their new intelligence operative, you agreed.
She had given a meaning to your life, a well-paying job that could support you, and unintentionally reunited you with the man who was bound to you on paper.
âThis is Y/N. Treat her nice.â Laswell says to the four large men towering over you. But you only have eyes for the one with the Skull mask. You could recognzie those vivid eyes anywhere.
He wasnât wearing gloves, giving you a perfect view of the wedding ring still sitting on his finger. You couldnât blame him, you still wore yours too for some reason.
âEy, LT, yer gonâ a burn a hole in the poor lassie if ya keep starinâ like that.â John Mactavish, aka known as Soap or Jonny, said, laughing. âYou like âer or somethinâ?â
âYeah, I guess. Sheâs my wife after all.â Ghost grunts. You want to pinch the bridge of your nose. How could he say such a thing without context?
Gaz is the one who makes a fuss over Ghostâs statement. âWait, youâre married?! And you didnât invite us?!â
âIt was in a dingy church.â You say to fill in the gaps.
âWhere?â Gaz presses on.
You and Ghost exchange a look, embarrassed about your reckless actions. âVegas.â You both say in unison.
You can practically see the cogs working in Soapâs head as he gasps. âIs that where yer disappeared off to? Ya got married to a pretty lass without tellinâ us? How long have yâall known each other?!â
You clear your throat as you hear the quiet sound of Laswell chuckling. Glad to see she finds your predicament amusing. âWe donât.â
âSo you married a stranger?â Soapâs eyebrows furrow. âEy, how come you got married before me?!â
âWhat happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.â Ghost reminds his team members.
Itâd be really funny if, even after that, you and Ghost still donât divorce. And yâall actually start treating each other like lovers.
Like, yeah, we were strangers and got married in a church in Vegas but we wonât divorce because the married life is actually better than expected. What about it?
Ghost literally brushes off the fact that you guys were strangers. He treats you like his wife, bringing you food and wiping your makeup off when youâre too tired to do so. And eventually, you guys just accept it.
#kyle cod#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#gaz call of duty#soap call of duty#ghost call of duty#call of duty#john price x reader#captain john price#ghost x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley ghost#simon riley x you#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
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Legit it's like finding out that a man cannot see himself being friends with a woman unless he's trying to date her. Like that's just sexism my dude, touch some grass.
I have multiple male friends, some who have gfs, some who don't, none of which want to get in my pants. They're all decent human beings who are comfortable enough in their masculinity to hang around women and not feel emasculated if they're not the centre of attention.
One of my male best friends had literally never had a supportive friend group before us and had such an insane change in personality from the time I first met him to now, almost 2 years later. Dude has stopped putting himself down all the time and has even gone through a whole sexuality crisis (he's a bisexual king with a hot bisexual queen and they both admire the hot people together).
He is one of my best friends and I love him like an annoying little brother. I wouldn't trade him for the world.
Some men do suck, but treating all men the same as ones who do actually do despicable things just increases the seperation between the genders. It takes away the ability for mixed friendships and the ability for men to understand things from a women's perspective. And if you can't understand the perspective of a population, well that's how discrimination and dehumanisation happens.
Sexism works both ways. People are human, treat them as such regardless of race, gender, religion, or any other seggregating factor. Never dehumanise a section of humanity. No matter how justified you think it is. Because that is how the most heinous crimes of humanity were allowed to occur.
Some of y'all genuinely hate dudes and honestly, that's super cringe
#sexism#kinda a rant tbh#misogyny#radical feminism is stupid#i hate misogyny. not men#legit tho#never fucking dehumanise anyone#its so easy for our brains to fall into the us vs them categorisations#but that is literally how all of the worst crimes humanity has committed have happened#misogeny exists because of a dehumanisation of women#it's only amplified by men never having non-sexual relationships with women#it's a lot harder to call someone an object when you regularly play dnd with them#or when you've heard of all the times certain actions have made them feel unsafe#algorithms are making it all to easy for people to get radical#so irl relationships are all the more important to keep people from getting sucked into echo chambers#also men can be SAd too#people really like to conveniently ignore that in the narrative#misogeny hurts men too#dehumanisation hurts everyone#because you live with the constant fear of being considered the same as those you consider lesser#reject the system and be friends with anyone regardless of age religeon or gender#some of the most entertaining people I know are little old ladies#10/10 would reccommend friending ur local old people#they know all the things
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List of Palestinians that reached out to my dms
@lamahouranii11 https://gofund.me/cd29b3ea
"I'm Lama, I live in a tent after being displaced 3 times, this tent doesn't protect us from the cold of winter and we need winter clothes for us, our children and the elderly, everything in the market is expensive and we cannot afford to buy it, with the closure of the crossings.đđThere is also no food in the market or flour, we are on the verge of famine in the south unfortunately and no one is moving for us and everything is 20 times its price, such as milk, diapers, food, flour and clothes, we cannot afford to provide any of these supplies for us and our children, help us and donate to us, you are our last hope and lifeline for us. đđđ"
@hadeelsamir https://gofund.me/fdd492ab
"My tragic story with my family began with the beginning of the ground invasion in Khan Younis city when the Israeli army surprised the citizens living in Al-Mawasi, a safe place according to the Israeli army, early in the morning by shooting and shooting at anyone who moved. No matter what they were. My family and I were trapped in our beautiful home for 24 hours until we found a way and sneaked to safety so that they could survive for the first time. We left all our belongings behind us, we were only carrying some money and important papers, we could not sleep that night. The next morning, we bought a tent trying to make it look like a shelter."
@life-111 https://gofund.me/2cf9966e
"I am Ahmed Hammad, 26 years old, married, and I have a child that I had two months ago. I have lost many members of my family, including my father, brother, and sister, as a result of the war on my country, Gaza. I used to work as a cleaner at Shuhada al-Aqsa Hospital, where I was injured by the bombing two weeks ago. I can't support my family and my little child is malnourished. I now live with my wife, mother, and son in an unlivable tent. I can't work, I can't provide treatment for my sick mother, and I fear for my child's future. I want him to live a normal life.
Any help you can give will be appreciated as a beacon of hope in our darkness. The war has destroyed our lives, turning us from a happy family into homeless refugees. We need support to provide food, drink, clothes, as well as milk, diapers, and proper nutrition for our little boy. We desperately need help so that we can continue to face these daily challenges and survive. Every bit of support and help can save our lives and give us hope for a better tomorrow. I call on you all to stand in solidarity with us during this ordeal. Every small donation, no matter how little, will change our lives for the better. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and help â„ïžâ„ïžâ„ïž"
@eslamfa2 https://gofund.me/a2ccf744
"Eslam is a teacher and a young mother of 2; Hanaa (age 5) and Ana (age 1). Since last year, she and her family have been fighting to survive the siege on Ghazzah.She and her family lost their home to the bombings, displacing them all to a tent. The unhygienic conditions have caused both of Eslam's children to develop skin diseases."
@hanangaza https://gofund.me/3c368bc9
"Hanan, her husband, and their three young children are fighting to survive the genocide in Ghazzah. They endured the bombing of their home with themselves still inside, and afterwards were displaced to tent camps by the coast. Hanan's husband's clothing store, their main source of income, was destroyed as well during the bombardments.
They are now living every day without the most basic amenities of living; their tent doesn't even protect them from the weather."
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Mattheo Riddle with a precious little cheerleader, then he sees how small the skirt is. LITTLE CHEERLEADER MIGHT AS WELL GO IN A WHEELCHAIR AFTER GETTING ABSOLUTELY FUCKED.
I made this a halloween party, hope that's okay <3 itâs not full smut but I still think itâs cute???
[this post has nsfw content, 18+, MDNI, be aware of your internet consumption]
Pansy straightens her own costume out as she looks in the mirror and inspects any need for finishing touches, "What're you supposed to be again?" You're adjusting the bow atop your head as you look in the same mirror just over her shoulder, "I'm a cheerleader. It's a muggle thing, like...a supporter of their sports." Pansy passes you her lipgloss so you can add shine to yours as well, "And are all of these cheerleaders outfits as short and slutty as yours?"
You scoff slightly, turning to the side in the mirror. The pleats of the skirt fan out and the slightest view of your lace clad ass cheeks peek out. "Okay, from what I've been told they wear little shorts underneath; so yes I may have sluttied the outfit up a bit, but Matty is going to love it." You turn to face Pansy, "You're coming for my costume but what are you supposed to be?"
She was wearing a nearly see through silk white slip, a simple red lace bustier underneath. She grabs a small white that almost looks like that of a muggle sailor except it has a red plus sign on the side. After she charms it to stay still for the night she slides her wand back into the fastener on her thigh before pointing at her hat, "I'm a healer, duh." You shake your head in faux disbelief, "But my costume is the sluttier one."
Pansy all but ignores your comment with a roll of her eyes and an insistence that you both need to make your way downstairs. The drink table is your first destination, deciding that the longer it takes you to make contact with Mattheo the more worked up he'll be when he finally sees you. Making your way to the groups usual destination you're more than aware of the amount of male attention you're garnering.
And if you weren't actually aware of the stares, the look on Mattheo's face as you approached the group would've given away how truly sinful your costume appeared. Mattheo's eyes bore into you, an intensely hardened stare, the muscles of his jaw clenching tighter with each sway of your hips as you moved closer. On purpose you 'forgot' to say hello to Theo as you walked by him, earning a protest for your attention.
You turn around to face him with probably a little more force than necessary, the pleats of your skirt fanning out and giving the person sitting in the lounge chair behind you a full show. The unmistakable crunching of plastic is like music to your ears as Theo lifts you up in a hug, slightly shining you back and forth and surely giving Mattheo another brief show. As Theo sets your feet back on the ground you turn to your boyfriend.
Setting your drink down on the table next to him, you give a slight pout. Mattheo raises a brow as he takes another sip of his own drink, hardened demeanor unchanging as you climb into his lap on the lounge chair. Setting his drink next to yours he rests his hands on either arm rest as you wrap your arms lightly around his neck, "Do you like my costume, Matty?"
The slightest twitch to his lips gives way to a smirk and he adjusts slightly in his seat, allowing your knees to slip further down on either side of his hips so your core is now flush to his waist. "I'm not too sure I liked the show that practically anyone could have seen, but I think this skirt could serve a purpose." Mattheo kissed you then, suddenly and anything but soft. A hard and hungry kiss as he gripped your hips and pushed you back and forth ever so slightly.
The friction emits a soft moan from your throat and Mattheo takes every opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. A hands finds solace at the top of your neck, turning your head to expose your jaw and throat to allow Mattheo to nip and bite at the skin there. "Fuck, Matty, s-slow down," your breathless at the immediate attention and the shots from your pregamming are lowering your inhibitions quickly.
Immediately Mattheo ceases his actions, turning instead to the group around you guys, "Who's up for a game?" You're confused by his sudden change in interest, but when everyone agrees the chairs and tables start being rearranged closer together. As you go to find another seat Mattheo's hands grip harshly on your hips. He pulls you back down to his lap, the breeze from the action making your skirt fan out across his legs.
Enzo asks if anyone needs refills before the game begins, nearly everyone agreeing but the two of you. Mattheo immediately attaches his mouth the the underside of your jaw again, your public displays of affection nothing new to your friend group. As those around you are busy setting up the game, the other part of the group replenishing drinks Mattheo snakes an arm around your waist lifting you up slightly. The other you can feel begins to maneuver the buckle of his trousers, as well at the button and zipper.
Mattheo's voice is rough in your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your neck and a rush to your core, "Here's what's going to happen, sweetheart," you can feel him release himself from his trousers, tapping the head of his cock against your centre, the action alone causing you to clench around nothing, wetness increasing. "You're going to be a very good girl for me, baby. Gonna keep me nice and warm in this pretty pussy while we play this game with out friend, okay?"
You give a nod, not trusting your voice as Mattheo pushes his tip gently in, one hand grasping roughly on your waist as you slowly become full of him. You clench around him involuntarily, just the feeling of him stretching you out so intense your body has a natural reaction to him. "Easy, pretty girl, don't go making a mess too soon." Mattheo adjusts your skirt accordingly, making sure it's fanned out around his lap an over your thighs just so, making everyone else non-the wiser as they come back and get settled on the sofas.
#he would definitely make you keep the skirt on when he fucks you upstairs#nonny bo bonny#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#Mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader
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So, this. I was homeschooled, and I will say. I did meet people who had legitimate reasons that homeschooling was better for them. Many had been in public school and were severely bullied, most due to disabilities. I myself was bullied relentlessly and my mom cites that as her reason for pulling me and my siblings out of school. (She was also enamored with the idea of downsizing into a trailer and traveling the country. Yes, with a newborn baby, two audhd kids, a dog, and her crumbling marriage) Here's how that went:
The thing is, I didn't stop being bullied when I was pulled out, I just didn't have any escape from the bullying happening in my home. I went from having a small group of friends and acquaintances and teachers to talk with to only my abusive mother, absent father, struggling little brother, and the baby I was raising in place of my mom. (She slept in the same bed as me for the first 6 years, I fed, bathed, changed, and entertained her)
Occasionally, we would fall in with homeschooling co-ops, but inevitably, drama would happen, and I learned not to get attached. I don't think I could name one single person I met during that time period if you held a gun to my head. The whole traveling the country thing didn't work out, and we went from having a house to camping or renting in small spaces. I was 12 when I started homeschooling, and I stayed at a 5th grade education level for the most part until I was 16. My mom soon stopped having any interest or ability to teach me, so I mostly just read and fucked around all day. It was boring and frustrating, I didn't have consistent access to the internet, and I fought with my family all the time.
My state doesn't require homeschoolers to submit a report card or have the children see a counselor once a year, or really anything. In 2015, my mom gave up on educating me and put me in a dual enrollment program at a community college for high schoolers, and that was what got me finally to something approaching my peers on an education level. It also finally put me in contact with adults who cared about me and wanted me to succeed, professors who checked on my progress and listened to my concerns. A library with an internet connection and nobody watching what books I was reading.
That school saved my life, and I don't say that lightly.
In 2017, a fellow homeschooler in my state was not so lucky. Matthew Tirado was a 17 year old nonverbal autistic kid who was enrolled in public school. His parents were repeatedly reported for child abuse, especially by his sister, until they took his sister out of school completely. Two months later, Matthew died. His sister didn't have any way of contacting outside help anymore, and her brother died because their parents knew that nobody could speak up for him any more.
I remember everyone else's horror, and outrage, and I remember my mom. The woman who had abused me when she knew I had nobody to go. She was scared. Because she still had my younger siblings, and she did not want to face consequences. So many homeschooling parents in my state did the same, and they fought hard to defend their right to abuse their kids. And they won.
To this day, in my state 36% of parents who pulled their child from public school in order to homeschool them did so *after* a Department of Child and Family Services (DCF) investigation revealed that they were abusing their children. That's more than one fourth. Once a child is pulled out of school in my state, there are no requirements accommodations, no therapy, no supports, and no accountability. Homeschool parents willfully practice 'unschooling' or buy curriculums from shady organizations that purport to provide an education that will turn their children into whatever parents want them to be.
Public schools aren't great. We all know this. Neither are private schools, in a different, equally fucked way. But homeschooling with no checks or balances, nobody even making sure the kids are still alive after they're out of the system? It's a level of nightmare I dearly wish nobody had to experience. And I got off so lightly.
Anyway enough lame gifted kid discourse we are in our 20s. Let's talk about how homeschooling in america should be fucking illegal it's insane lol
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âBreaking Pointâ ~ Pt. 3 Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Angst
Summary: As tensions rise between Y/N and Lewis, their unresolved conflicts spill into their separate lives. Y/N immerses herself in her new role in LA, while Lewis decides to fly to LA to surprise her and show his support for her career.
WC: 1,200
The shrill sound of my 5 a.m. alarm jolts me out of sleep, blaring through the quiet hotel room and shattering the brief peace Iâd found wrapped up next to him. I fumble to turn it off, groaning as I shake off the last remnants of sleep. The room is still dim, only a hint of light peeking through the curtains, and I glance over to see Lewis still sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling steadily, blissfully unaware of the rude awakening.
As quietly as I can, I slip out of bed and finish packing my bag. Every movement feels heavy, knowing that this is itâIâm leaving him again, back to LA, back to the whirlwind of work and responsibilities waiting for me. Last night, weâd found solace in each other, but it didnât change anything. It was just a brief escape, and now, here I am, running out the door before sunrise.
My gaze drifts back to him, his face relaxed, his brow free from the tension that seemed to linger between us these days. I hesitate, biting my lip before walking over to his side of the bed. Gently, I reach out and brush a hand over his shoulder, softly calling his name. âLewis⊠hey, I have to go.â
He stirs, blinking a few times before his eyes finally focus on me, and I watch as the sleepiness fades, replaced by something I canât quite place. He sits up slightly, his expression neutral, and for a moment, I feel a pang of disappointment. Iâd hoped for something moreâa plea to stay, maybe even a look of understanding. But instead, he looks⊠indifferent.
âRight,â he murmurs, running a hand over his face. âHave a safe flight.â
I try not to let his tone affect me, but it does. I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His arms wrap around me instinctively, pulling me closer, and just as Iâm about to pull away, his lips linger, soft and desperate, as if heâs silently begging me to stay. The intensity in his kiss catches me off guard, and I feel my heart tighten, a mix of guilt and frustration swirling within me.
But I canât stay. I pull back, offering him a small smile. âIâll call you when I land, okay?â
He just nods, his gaze following me as I pick up my bag and head for the door. As I step out, I can feel his eyes on me, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on my shoulders, leaving me with a gnawing ache that I know wonât go away anytime soon.
Back in LA, the bustling energy of the city greets me as I arrive at my manager Judeâs office, trying to shake off the early-morning flight fatigue. Jude looks up from his desk, his expression stern as always, and gestures for me to sit down. His demeanor has always been more fatherly than anything else, a grounding force in my otherwise chaotic career. But sometimes, his seriousness grates on me, especially when I feel like heâs trying to dictate my every move.
âWelcome back,â he says, his voice clipped. âHope youâre ready to dive right into this project. Weâve got a packed schedule, and youâre expected on set every day.â
I nod, though thereâs a part of me thatâs hesitant, the thought of missing Lewisâs upcoming races still weighing on me. I take a deep breath, bracing myself. âJude, is there⊠any way I could work my schedule around just one of the races? I could maybe fly out for a day or two?â
His brows knit together, and he looks at me as if Iâve just suggested the most absurd thing heâs ever heard. âY/N, this isnât a hobby. This is your career. You need to be here, focused, without distractions. You canât just fly off every time your boyfriend has a race.â
âI know,â I say, feeling a surge of frustration, my voice slipping into a whine. âBut itâs important to him, andââ
âEnough,â he interrupts, his tone firm. âYou need to be more mature about this. Youâve worked hard to get here, and now itâs time to prioritize. Do you want to be taken seriously in this industry, or do you want to be seen as someone whoâs just along for the ride?â
His words sting, and I feel like a chastised teenager, but I bite back any retort, nodding quietly. Heâs right, in a way, but the guilt lingers, a constant reminder of the sacrifice Iâm making.
By Thursday, the tension between Lewis and me hasnât improved. Weâve been texting back and forth, but every conversation seems to lead to an argument, leaving me drained and frustrated. Heâs in Mexico now, gearing up for the next Grand Prix, while Iâm stuck in LA, bouncing from one meeting to the next. His texts are short, clipped, and filled with veiled accusations about me not being there.
Lewis: âYou could have rearranged things. You know how much this race means to me.â
Me: âLewis, you act like itâs so easy. Iâm not just sitting around, you know.â
Lewis: âItâs never easy with you, is it?â
I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of annoyance. Me: âMaybe if you werenât so dramatic, we wouldnât keep going in circles. I canât drop everything for you.â
Lewis: âI just want you to show that you care.â
Me: âI do care! Youâre the one making this a bigger deal than it is.â
The conversation ends with him leaving me on read, and I feel a mix of anger and sadness bubbling up. Nothing seems to be enough for him, no matter how hard I try.
POV Switch: Lewis
Itâs Sunday, and the Mexico Grand Prix is about to start, but my mind keeps drifting back to Y/N, and the words we exchanged over text. Iâm angry, frustrated, and yet I canât shake the feeling that Iâm being unreasonable. But damn it, itâs hard not to feel like sheâs slipping away, especially when she seems so focused on everything but us.
During a break in the paddock, I run into Lando, whoâs his usual, cheerful self, chatting with everyone he passes. Part of me wants to brush him off, but instead, I strike up a conversation, hoping to ease my mind⊠or maybe to confirm the suspicions that have been eating at me.
âSo, Y/N not making it out here again?â Lando asks, looking over at me with a knowing grin.
I shrug, keeping my tone casual. âYeah, sheâs busy with this new project in LA. Sheâs pretty focused on it.â
âOh, I know,â he says, nodding. âShe told me sheâs so excited for this role. You must be thrilled for her, right?â
I feel a pang of jealousy mixed with guilt as he says it, my jaw tightening. âYeah⊠thrilled,â I murmur, trying to keep my tone light. âShe, uh⊠talks to you about it?â
Lando nods, clearly oblivious to my discomfort. âYeah, we chat here and there. She mentioned sheâs hoping itâs her breakout role. I think sheâs really got it in her. You must be proud.â
The weight of his words hits me harder than I expected. Here I am, stewing in jealousy, focused on how much her absence bothers me, while sheâs out there doing everything sheâs worked so hard for. I should be proud of her, thrilled for her. But instead, Iâve been selfish, putting my own needs above her dreams.
Lando gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder before heading off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. Iâve been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I havenât taken the time to actually support her, to let her know that Iâm here for her, no matter what.
Without hesitation, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to my assistant.
Me: âBook me a flight to LA for Monday. Iâm going to see Y/N.â
If Iâm going to make this work, I need to show her that I care about her career as much as I care about my own.
POV Y/N
The first day of filming had gone perfectly. The nerves I felt in the morning had melted away as soon as I stepped in front of the camera, diving into the role Iâd been preparing for over the past few weeks. By the time Iâd wrapped up, I was buzzing with energy, flipping through the script in my trailer, trying to absorb the details for tomorrow.
I hadnât thought about Lewis all day, not the arguments, the jealousy, or the fact that he was in a different country entirely, living his own life without me. And it was a reliefâa reminder that I could be more than just âhis girlfriend.â I was here, on set, doing what I loved, and for the first time in a while, it felt like it was enough.
A sudden knock at my trailer door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up, surprised. Iâm not expecting anyone.
âCome in!â I call, glancing at the door as it swings open to reveal Lola, one of the sound managers Iâd worked with before. Her blue hair, piercings, and tattoos make her stand out on any set, and her unapologetic opinions are part of why I love her so much. Sheâs a firecracker, always calling things as she sees them.
She gives me a wide-eyed look, an amused grin spreading across her face. âDude, I think your boyfriend is here? That driver guy, right?â
I blink, thrown off guard. âWait⊠what?â
âYeah, heâs out there, looking all glamorous in some fancy designer outfit,â she says, rolling her eyes. âI think the whole crew is practically drooling over him. Even the directorâs talking to him.â
I get up, peering out the small window of my trailer, and sure enough, there he isâLewis Hamilton, surrounded by a crowd of intrigued crew members, the director himself leaning in to shake his hand, a look of admiration on his face. Everyone is utterly charmed, captivated by him, and I can practically feel my blood boiling.
Seriously? He just shows up here, at my set, and pulls all the attention toward himself? Itâs my project, my moment, and here he is, stepping in unannounced, drawing everyoneâs focus like heâs the main attraction. Does he have to make everything about him?
As I watch, he finally manages to extract himself from the crowd, striding toward my trailer with that confident, self-assured look he always has. Heâs dressed head to toe in Dior, sunglasses on even though the sun is starting to set, and thereâs a part of me that feels a stab of irritation. He didnât just show up. He came here looking like thisâlike heâs ready to own the entire scene.
I school my expression, putting on a happy face, reminding myself to play along. After all, itâs not like I donât want him to be here. But the audacity of him showing up out of nowhere without even a heads-up feels⊠intrusive. Like heâs stepping into my space and taking over.
He steps inside, flashing me that smile, and I force myself to smile back, pretending Iâm thrilled he finally decided to show up for me for once.
âSurprise,â he says, his voice warm, like heâs expecting me to melt into his arms. He reaches out, hands settling on my waist, pulling me close.
I smile tightly, crossing my arms, refusing to give in so easily. âYou didnât tell me you were coming.â
He chuckles, running his hand up my arm, his touch gentle but insistent. âWanted to surprise you. Thought youâd be happy to see me.â
I manage a small smile, swallowing the annoyance bubbling up inside me. âOh, Iâm thrilled,â I reply, trying to keep my tone light, though itâs laced with a hint of sarcasm. âAnd Iâm sure the whole crew is too. Theyâve all been fawning over you since you got here.â
He smirks, clearly not picking up on my irritation, as he leans in closer, his voice dropping. âWell, Iâm only here for one person.â He tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, trailing his lips down to my jaw. âI missed you.â
I stiffen, resisting the urge to melt into him, but itâs getting harder with every touch, every soft kiss. Heâs pulling out all the stops, the charm, the warmth, and itâs almost enough to make me forget how angry I was. Almost.
But then, the thought creeps back in. He didnât come to celebrate my success, to support me in my project. No, heâs here because heâs jealous, because he wants to make sure Iâm still wrapped around his finger, focused on him. Heâs here for him, not for me.
He moves to kiss me, but I turn my head away, crossing my arms even tighter. âIâm not in the mood,â I say, my voice cool.
He pulls back, a look of confusion flickering across his face, quickly replaced by irritation. âWhatâs wrong?â
I shrug, feigning indifference. âNothingâs wrong. I just⊠wasnât expecting you to show up here like this. I thought youâd be in Mexico, celebrating with your team.â
He frowns, his jaw clenching slightly. âI wanted to see you. I thought youâd be happy I came all this way to surprise you.â
I feel a pang of guilt, but my frustration outweighs it. âWell, maybe I would be if it felt like you were here for the right reasons.â
His expression darkens, and he steps back slightly, crossing his own arms. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
I sigh, biting back the urge to say something harsher. âIt means that every time I have something important going on, it somehow becomes about you. Youâre here on my set, charming everyone, pulling all the attention to yourself. Canât I have just one thing thatâs about me?â
The hurt flickers across his face, but he quickly masks it, his tone defensive. âIâm not trying to take anything from you, Y/N. I came because I wanted to support you.â
I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. âSupport me? Youâve been fighting me about this role since I took it. You didnât even want me to take it.â
âThatâs not true,â he argues, his voice rising slightly. âI just wanted you to consider my feelings. Itâs like you barely even thought about how this would affect us.â
âOh, believe me, Iâve thought about it,â I snap back, the frustration boiling over. âBut itâs always about you, isnât it? You want everything to be on your terms. You get to chase your dreams, but the moment I try to focus on mine, itâs a problem.â
He opens his mouth, then closes it, his gaze dropping, and I can see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, as if heâs realizing the truth in my words. But before he can respond, I feel a swell of something elseâguilt, mixed with the nagging reminder of what Jude had said to me in that meeting.
I hear Judeâs voice in my head, his stern, almost fatherly tone telling me to focus, to stay on track, to avoid distractions. Heâd warned me that this relationship would only hold me back, that I needed to be stronger, more mature, more independent.
But I love Lewis. No matter how much he frustrates me, no matter how selfish he can be, I still want him. I still want to forgive him, to wrap my arms around him and let everything else fall away. Heâs here, standing right in front of me, trying, in his own flawed way, to show me he cares. And despite everything, I feel myself wanting to forgive him, to give in to the comfort of his embrace.
I look up at him, his face softening as he senses my hesitation, his hands reaching out, silently begging for me to let him in. My heart aches, torn between the voice of reason urging me to focus on myself and the overwhelming pull I feel toward him, the need to be close to him, to forget all the tension, if only for a moment.
But as I stand there, caught between my own wants and the reminder of everything Iâve worked for, I find myself frozen, unable to decide which path to take.
ââââââââââââââââââââ
Thank you for reading!
Remember, liking and following letâs me know you want more writings! đ
#f1 fanfic#lewis hamilton#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#f1 x you#lewis hamilton fic
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could you pls do some headcanons of kazutora, chifuyu and baji in their pet shop in the final timeline??
Love them having a petshop together, here are some hc's of that!
When Baji passes his exams and becomes a vet, Kazutora and Chifuyu throw him a goodbye/ good luck on your next career party at the pet shop. This involves putting tiny paper hats on most of the pets.
They play a lot of pranks on each other in the shop
Baji studied while working often, sometimes Chifuyu and Kazutora would hear him ranting to the animals about difficult questions.
Kazutora also talks to the animals often, just telling them little bits about his day.
The pet shop has a few merch items like t shirts and keyrings for sale (Chifuyu was so proud of his name and logo choice that he couldn't resist).
Chifuyu sings sometimes when he's cleaning or working late alone. (Baji and Kazutora have seen this in the camera recordings and laughed).
Mikey visits the shop often when he's bored (Draken has to drag him back to work sometimes).
If there is any sign of someone being abusive towards animals, they get kicked out of the shop (literally)
Chifuyu says Hanma is banned from the pet shop after the great cat incident of 2016 (Hanma still finds ways to sneak in though, normally with Kazutora's help).
All three of them are really bad at not bonding with the animals too much, so they all get a little sad when one is actually bought (though also happy that the animal has found it's home).
If someone that one of them finds cute walks into the shop then the other two tease them about it the whole time
Chifuyu will say goodbye to every animal before leaving for the day
They have a tendency to share their lunches togetherÂ
Kazutora was actually a bit nervous to start working at the pet shop since he didn't have as much experience with pets. (He's a natural though and the animals seem especially drawn to him. Something which makes Chifuyu and Baji pout at times)
Izana comes in to look at the fish often
And finally, their very first customer was Takemichi. He didn't have a pet but wanted to support the shop so ended up buying a random hamster wheel. Then Hina ended up seeing it and assumed Takemichi was going to surprise her with a hamster. And that's the story of how Takemichi and Hina got a hamster. (Chifuyu, Baji and Kazutora love teasing him about this).
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo rev#matsuno chifuyu#keisuke baji#kazutora hanemiya#tokyo revengers spoilers
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Right Here: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader
Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess
Companion piece to:
The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.
Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.
Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.
Safe - You and Gibbs work through your grief in different ways.
Check In - Gibbs checks in with you after the night before.
The night Gibbs closes the Mildred Jones case is the night you come home to find him sitting on your porch. Â His elbows are resting on his knees and his head is tilted back towards the stars that are twinkling above. Thereâs a half drunk bottle of whiskey resting on the stoop alongside of him, the amber liquid glistening in the porch light you always leave on.
âSo this looks fun.â You say, nudging his boot with your foot to get his attention.
âYou werenât in so I thought Iâd wait.â He says as you sit down alongside him. Your body accidently bumps against his and he leans in just a little absorbing your warmth.
âYou started drinking without me.â You say gesturing towards the bottle.
He sighs and you can see the shame etched into his features because this isnât him. This case itâs touched a raw nerve, thrown him back into a place that he doesnât want to be. You know what itâs like to fall into that hole, you know how hard it is to climb out. If you're honest with yourself, you arenât sure you ever did.
âYou wanna come inside, see if we canât sober you up a little?â You ask him and he nods his head in agreement as you raise to your feet. Your arm hooks under his as you try to pull him up with you.
âChrist youâre heavy.â You mutter before he forces himself to his feet, he wobbles for a moment, his hands grasping your shoulders as he tries to steady himself. You grip his hips, holding him in place as he continues to waver.
âI gave away one of my daughterâs toys today, her favourite.â Â He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. âI guess that means Iâm moving on right?â
âIs that what this is all about?â You ask as the tears leak down his cheeks. âYou feel guilty for letting a part of her go?â
He nods and you place your palm over his heart, fingertips splaying across the fabric of his shirt. He feels warm to the touch and you realise that this right here is the most intimate youâve been with another person since Violet died. Youâve fucked during that time, but itâs always been impersonal, about fulfilling a need.
This is different, Gibbs, heâs showing his vulnerabilities right now and you know just how hard that it is, especially after a loss.
âJethro.â You whisper, your fingertip tapping the space where his heart resides. âWe never truly lose them, even when theyâre taken from us. Theyâre still in here, theyâre still a part of us.â
âRight.â He says with a shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing as his hand covers yours, keeping it clasped to his chest. âI still have them, I didnât lose them because theyâre right here.â
âYea.â You whisper, tasting the salt from his tears on your lips as they brush over his cheek. âTheyâre right here.â
Love Gibbs? Donât miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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And here it is, the epilogue! We skip back a little bit in this one, for some yummy deleted scenes. Thank you @phantomfen and @haleswallows for your lovely support, this couldn't have happened without ya'll! And thank you @ashrayus for the art that inspired it all. I hope I did you proud!
===
Cass observes BruceBatdad from her vantage point two rooftops away.
She hears StephSpoiler join her soon after, TimRobin following just seconds later.
BruceBatdad is not alone.
A woman and a boy stand before him, and Cass would be a fool to not remember that face, to not know who they are.
Even from so far away, it is hard to forget the woman who gave her candy once, all those years ago.
It is hard to forget her words then too.
I have a son, Talia Al-Ghul had said then, but I'm afraid he does not like sweets, will you throw them away for me?
Cass hears TimRobin and StephSpoiler bicker quietly behind her, lets BabsOracle's soothing voice demanding explanations wash over her in harmony.
JayHood's low timbre joins the cacophony, DickieWing's excited chatter echoing in the comms as he makes his way over. It is Sunday, that Sunday, brunch Sunday, so he is in Gotham tonight.
Bludhaven must be lonely.
She squints. BabsOracle starts to hiss, TimRobin and StephSpoiler tumbling over each other now.
DamianBabyBrother stands at attention, but his gaze is on them.
She waves. He does not wave back. That is okay.
DickieWing cartwheels onto their roof, gives Cass a pat on the head before wrangling the other two.
Cass observes their new baby brother, but does not get much. He is well trained. It does not matter, there will be time to learn.
"Show of hands," BabsOracle's voice is strict, commanding. They all freeze, trained in a better way, "New family member."
Immediately, all hands go up. TimRobin hesitates. It is okay. There will be time.
Cass smiles, watches DickieWing whoop, leading the race back to the Cave.
Cass waves again, but knows not to wait this time, twirling her way through her siblings.
She intends to win the race back home.
===
Alfred contemplates his newest ward as he wipes his hands.
The little one wants to know if there are any tasks assigned to him, which is new and refreshing.
This is, of course, sarcasm.
Master Jason refused to accept food without some kind of chore to exchange.
Miss Cass still shadows him occasionally, on alert for anything Alfred should need.
Even Master Duke is in the habit of asking Alfred if he can help anywhere.
Alfred had indulged them, of course, once in a while. Help them feel at ease.
The problem now is that Master Damian is not actually asking for tasks.
He is asking for information.
That is what intrigues him.
Master Damian stands quietly at attention, patiently, as Alfred considers the best way to navigate this.
"Well," Alfred lifts an eyebrow, "It isn't entirely necessary, Master Damian."
"I must earn my keep," the young master insists, "Blood son or not, I do not plan to waste away here."
Alfred hums. "Then I suppose it would depend on where your skills lie, Master Damian."
"I was trained in survival," Master Damian replies with nary a pause, "I can cook, and do basic cleaning." He tilts his head, reminding Alfred of a Young Master Bruce. "Admittedly, I am unsure of my skill level with no-one to compare to, as it was not necessary to my training."
Alfred lets that ruminate. He could have the young master help with dishes first, chat as he cooks for the family. It would be nice to have someone in residence to help with cooking again. Master Jason still avoids the Manor quiet often, after all.
"It is at least edible," Master Damian must mistake his silence as refusal, "And I learn quick."
"Yes," Alfred reassures the boy, "I am aware. Let's have you start with dishes, shall we?"
Master Damian's lip quirks to the side, small and so very familiar, and rolls up his sleeves.
Yes, this will do. Alfred smiles back, turning around to work on tonight's dinner.
Now, how much to reveal?
===
Steph watches the newest baby Wayne scrutinize Dick's somersault with the kind of concentration of a life and death threat.
It's impressive and at once entirely so sad that Damian executes a perfect somersault two tries later.
Once to get the feel. Twice to adjust.
Genius? Or training?
Steph doesn't really want to know.
It's the 16th item on the list that Damian has excelled at within the first five tries. Steph wants so badly for this little baby to let loose. He's been here for a couple months and he still thinks his stay is temporary.
As if Bruce would let his babiest bat go back to that asshole Ra's.
Talia might be cool, Steph doesn't know. Damian sure loves her, just from the scant sentences he's said about her. But sometimes love justâŠisn't enough.
Damian does a perfect one handed handstand, twirling around just like Dick did and stepping delicate down, and eyeing the tightrope Duke and Steph had set up for him to try. There's a unicycle somewhere in the gym, they just have to find it.
"Does this spark joy?" Damian tilts his head, from where he's perfectly balanced on the stupid unicycle and looking way too smug about it.
"It does not." He finally answers, dismounting with boring aplomb.
The next hobby is skateboardingâTim shows Damian how to do an ollie, once the kid has the hang of standing on the board.
It is a special kind of delight to watch a trained-from-basically-birth assassin eat shit on a skateboard.
A pencil is tossed unerringly at her forehead whilst she loses breath laughing, and you know what?
It's totally worth it, especially when it devolves quickly into an office supply version of a food fight between the five of them.
They try new hobbies, and each time, Steph asks "Does it spark joy?"
And each time Damian considers, before he answers very seriously, "It does not."
Steph's gotta admit, the sincerity is what does it for her.
By the end of it, Steph loses the bet, but it doesnt matter.
Babybat'll fit in fine.
===
Duke comes down to breakfast and immediately realizes something is wrong.
Damian has been in the Manor for a while now, and it's been routine for Duke to see him making breakfast with Alfred every Tuesday and Wednesday.
Today is Friday, and Damian is at the stove, alone.
"Hey, little dude." Duke cautiously greets, "Where's Alfie?"
"Pennyworth went to fetch more eggs." Damian doesn't turn around, but he answers, and that's all Duke can really ask for. "Someone had used it up last night, without permission."
Duke whistles. "Enough of them to warrant an emergency shopping trip?" Alfie usually keeps a burden's amount of eggs in the fridge always stocked up.
"Brown and Grayson," Damian carefully says, smirking over his shoulder and obviously trying not to laugh, "decided they wanted pancakes."
"Oh my god." Duke laughs, already seeing disaster and trying to keep it all in to ask his question, "Whatâwhat did they do?"
"Apparently," Damian drags out, "They thought that eggs and flour was enough to make the batter."
Damian comes to the table, placing a perfect plate of sunny side up eggs, bacon, and hash in front of Duke.
"Needless to say, they made almost two kilos of pasta instead." He places the second plate at the head of the table. "They tried to fry some of it anyway, and ruined two pans before they realized that perhaps, maybe, pancake batter should look a little moreâŠliquid."
By the time Damian has his own plate sitting across from Duke, he can't breathe from how hard he's laughing.
Bruce walks in, and they no doubt paint a peculiar picture: Damian, smirking and daintily eating his eggs. And Duke, curled over the table and trying to recover and succeeding at a snail's pace.
"Good morning Father." Damian primly greets.
"Good morning, sweetheart." Bruce's voice is confused, but amiable. He carefully picks his way to his spot and compliments Damian on breakfast, who nods in satisfaction.
"Duke, are you alright son?" Bruce asks, when Duke can finally straighten up take one deep breath.
"He'll be fine, Father." Damian waves his fork, "On an unrelated note, would you perhaps be opposed to pasta for lunch?"
Duke fucking loses it.
===
"Well?" Damian sits himself down delicately, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, expectantly.
They're down in the Cave, sitting across from each other at the round table in the main area, side by side.
Tim rolls his eyes, fine. No pleasantries then. "Are you considering joining the family business?"
Damian tilts his head, puppy-like, not that he'll ever say that to his face. "Which one?"
And that's a fair point. "Either. Any."
Damian purses his lips, in the same exact way Bruce does, thinking. "I am undecided. Why?"
"I was thinking that it was time for me to start making moves toâŠ" Tim wants to be delicate here, considering the history Damian has, "âŠwell, move on."
"Be more clear, Drake." And wow, the way Damian furrows his brow in annoyance is identical to Jason, "Use your words."
Tim huffs. "Robin, Demon Brat." Tim enunciates his words, trying not to smile at the way Damian perks up. "I want to retire."
Damian eyes him mistrustfully, darting from Tim's coffee cup, to his tablet, even to the BatComputer where Tim has a DNA sample running. "âŠI highly doubt that."
"UGH," Tim groans, "I want to rebrand, so I'm giving you the Robin domino or whatever."
"The Robin mantle must be earned," Damian puffs up like an irate Pomeranian, making Tim laugh for more reasons than one.
"I already retired once." Tim informs him, "Steph was Robin for a hot minute, making her own suit from a Halloween costume."
"She what." Damian's voice is dangerous, but Tim flaps a hand. He can blow steam as much as he wants, he's the baby of the family and despite it all Tim's 87% sure Damian wouldn't hurt a fly.
âŠMaybe a solid 66%. He'll have to run the numbers.
"She gave it up to be Spoiler real quick," Tim continues, "And then some shit happened, and though he wasn't officially a Robin, Duke was part of the We Are Robin movement."
Damian fumes in silence, which shouldn't be funny, but is.
"In other words, Demon Brat," Tim smirks, "Lots of people have been Robin. And if you don't take it now, wellâŠwho's to say someone else won't justâŠmake their own costume?"
Tim waits out Damian's breathing exercises, patient and frankly, uncaring. He fiddles on his tablet, sips at his coffee, considers new vigilante names. With Dick now acting as Nightwing, the transition to Young Justice won't be as confusing even if he did join up as Robin, but Tim would rather not.
Just thinking about the mistaken identity issues with Dick's romantic history is already giving him nightmares. Slim as the chances are, with their builds being so different, but Tim just doesn't want to take that chance.
"Fine." Damian finally says, "I concede. When will training start?"
Tim scoffs. "You're League trained, so you'll just be shadowing for protocol. There's a manual somewhere that Bruce made, but we mostly treat it as a guideline. The Batkids have their own that they update, and you already have access to that on your tablet." Tim gives him a look. "Tell me you need access."
Damian wisely stays silent. Tim remembers that the League isn't really attuned to the intricacies of hacking and coding, but Damian has had no trouble snooping through the system from what Tim has seen. He wonders if the League just got upgraded since Cass got trained, or if Damian is self taught. It doesn't matter.
"Right. Well, Dick said he'll take you on a mission whenever your schedule is open, and you can shadow me on my current patrol, move around. You won't be able to patrol on your own for a while butâ"
"What will be your new name?" Damian interrupts, eyebrow raised. Curious.
"Ohâuh. I haven't thought about it." Tim stutters. He didn't expect Damian to askâ
"Liar." Damian accuses, squinting at him.
Tim sighs. "I dunno, Red Robin?"
"That's a terrible name." Damian's nose scrunches. "A stupid name, even."
"Whaâit is not!" Tim slams his tablet down. Damian's eyes suddenly go wide, horror dripping through his tone.
"Drakeâtell me you did not simply combine Red Hood and Robin."
Tim stays absolutely fucking silent, grabbing his coffee to keep his mouth occupied.
"Drake, I implore you to be better than this." Damian slaps a hand over his face, which is rude.
"Hey! That isâthat is just uncalled forâ" Tim pulls his cup down, almost spilling it. He swears, but Damian pays no heed to him.
"I knew you were a fan of Todd's Robin, but this cannot go on. Did you expect me to graduate and become Green Robin?"
"No! That's stupid, there's not such thing as a green robinâ"
"There's no such thing as a red robin either! Unless you wish to be named after a subpar restaurant." Damian throws his hands up.
"You've never even been to a Red Robin!" Tim sputters, and tries to get a handle on the situation.
He fails.
"You have at least sixteen unique aliases with full on back stories that you successfully keep track of and disguise yourself into, and you cannot do any better than Red Robin?" Damian says, loudly, over his protests and effectively silencing him,
Tim opens his mouth, closes it. Shuts his eyes. Grumbles. "Well I'd like to see you come up with a better nameâŠ"
"Cardinal." Damian gets up, stalking towards the secret entrance, clearly done with this conversation. "I cannot fathom how little sense you have. Ridiculous."
And well. Tim hates to say it, but Cardinal is much better than Red Robin.
Gods damn it.
===
"I will name her Batcow." Dick refuses to coo. Damian is covered in blood and wielding a sword, this is not cute behavior!
How did this happen? This was their first mission. It was supposed to be easy. Tomorrow, Tim was going to take him out on patrols. The weekend after that, Jaybird was going to take him paintballing. Steph and Duke were going to teach him how to prank people harmlessly. This was supposed to be nice, easy Robin bonding!
"That's nice, baby bird." Dick tries to placate, "We can shuffle her with the other cows to their new homeâ"
"Nightwing," Damian's voice brokers no argument, "I have claimed her."
Dick has to wonder if he was as much of a menace when he was this age. He wasn't, surely. Sure, he got Ace in an unconventional way, but Ace was practically made for hero-ing.
Not to mention Ace was a dog.
"It's great that you want a pet," Dick tries again, "But how about we start with a dog first? Maybe a cat?"
Damian thinks on that a bit, before nodding. Dick sighs a great sigh of relief.
"I would like one of each." Wait. What? No. Nonononoâ
Cackling echoes in the comms, the hysterics of Steph and Jaybird loud and guffawing in his ear.
"Stop laughing and help me." Dick hisses into the comms as Damian starts flicks the blood of his sword.
"I used to put him in, in air jail." Jaybird says through gulps of air, "Y'know, pick him up wh-hen he was acting n-naughty."
"That isn't exactly applicable here, Hood!" Dick grits through his teeth, causing Steph to shriek in high pitched laughter.
"We will have to take the jet," Damian interrupts, "Batcow will not fit on our motorcycles."
"No, Robinâwe, uhm. We don't have room for a cow at homeâ" Dick wants to tear his hair out. He's too young for this, surely.
Heedless of his words, Damian starts to gently lead the cow towards him, raising a single eyebrow.
"Okay, well. We do have room, but that doesn't meanâ"
"Nightwing. Robin." Dick has never been more glad to hear Bruce's voice, "Leave the cow with the proper authorities and report back to the Cave."
"Father," Damian's voice suddenly changes, "I would like to take Batcow home."
"âŠRobin," Bruce starts, but is summarily interrupted.
"Father, you have missed twelve of my birthdays." Damian's voice goes wobbly, despite Dick physically seeing that his face is stone cold, "And I have not once received a gift."
There's a long silence, and Dick slumps. What the fuck do you even say to that?
"âŠThe jet will pick you up in 3 minutes."
"And the dog and cat?" Damian's voice is smug.
Dick sighs. "I'll take you to the shelter tomorrow."
The comms peak, from the sheer volume of Jay and Steph's mocking laughter.
===
Bruce enters his study with a tablet in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.Â
It's been a long day.
Heâs tired, preoccupied with thoughts of Damian starting school soon. The rest of his children seem to be causing some kind of trouble trying to celebrate it in their own way, and it's giving Bruce a minor headache about it.
Talia's continuous demands of pictures and actual reports is both heartwarming and excessive, but Bruce can hardly blame her.
His eyes should be scanning through the documents that Lucius sent over this morning and is still awaiting approval for.Â
What his eyes catch on instead is a new addition to his Gray Ghost shelf.Â
Itâs an action figure of the eponymous hero, one in almost pristine condition. A first edition.Â
Inside the cloche with the Gray Ghost gun is a miniature version resting just beside it. The RC car also has a miniature version perched next to its front wheel. Between the trilby and the goggles lay two hands and a miniature case of the first DVD release.
He tilts his head, feeling his eyebrow raise and a smile crawl up as he picks up the action figure to inspect it. It looks old, but clean. Not quite used, but not sitting on a shelf eitherâthereâs little knicks here or there. Perhaps found in a garage sale somewhere? Itâs not even his birthdayâstill, the gift warms his heart as anything involving his children does.
Now, which one of his kids did this, he wonders?
No matter, heâll find out soon enough. His children are terrible at keeping secrets, and he isn't Batman for nothing.
He places the figure gently back down in its place, and settles in for the long haul.
===
Talia sits, straight backed with her legs crossed in a highly uncomfortable chair.
Next to her, her Beloved looks lovely in his turtle neck and slacks, comfy, even.
She looks around the room, noting the whiteboard and assortment of small desks behind them,
There are motivation posters, and informational ones with equations listed upon them.
Talia refrains from scoffing, but really, what is the point of putting the answer up on the wall? How will they learn if they have such a crutch?
"Now," The portly man sitting across from them behind a large desk coughs to clear their throat, "Damian has shown high intelligence, his grades are top of the class and he has shown such high promise that the other teachers and I have discussed whether or not it would be beneficial for him to move up grades."
"I believe the principal and I already had this conversation, Mr. Porter." Bruce smiles, but it isn't the nice one, "Dami has always been a smart boy, but he was home-schooled, and we were more concerned about his socialization."
"Ah, yes. Well. The girls in the class seem to find him charming, albeit stoic. He is gentlemanly for his age, and doesn't really participate inâŠ" Mr. Porter coughs once more.
Talia rolls her eyes. "In idle immaturity?"
"Well, yes. It's justâwell," Mr. Porter tugs at his collar, "It's just boys being boys really."
"Has he made any friends? Of either gender?" Bruce asks, giving Talia a warning look. She shrugs, putting on her best innocent smile.
"Oh! Yes, one boy, Colin Wikes." Mr. Porter takes out a handkerchief to wipe his brow, "They seem to get along, in their own quiet way."
"That's lovely!" Talia's voice goes high, fake. Bruce winces, but she ignores him, "So his grades are up, he's made a friend, and overall he's popular with the ladies!"
"W-well, yes, but the other boysâ"
"Now, now. Bruce is a lady-killer himself, and he managed to figure out male friendships eventually!" Talia simpers,"He had such a close friendship with Harvey Dent after all, before that whole...fiasco."
Bruce sighs, but again, Talia ignores him. "Now, I hear that my son has a talent in art? I see that none of them are hung upâ"
This is very important business after all.
No-one can stop her from achieving her mission.
===
Jason opens his door carefully, quietly.
His traps have been disabled and reset, and Jason can only think of two people who would do that.
Both of them came from the League, and both of them don't take kindly to being startled.
He drops his work bag, the one for his mechanic's job, down in the entrance way. He takes of his heavy boots and treads silently through the apartment to find out which sibling came to visit.
He's greeted by Damian, asleep on his couch with an open and currently in danger of falling copy of Pride and Prejudice.
Jason quickly tiptoes over, grabs the book before it can fall to the ground, grabbing the kid's bookmarkâa pressed flower that Cass made for himâand placing it to the side.
The fact that the kid hasn't woken up is testament to their time in the League.
Jason's been getting bits and pieces back, ever since he got shot and saw double vision of Damian and a younger version of the kid administering first aid to him.
Talk about shock therapy.
It's not all that pleasant, the memories.
He remembers the grueling training, the pain and anguish and fear of not remembering. Not knowing who he was, knowing Robin was important, not knowing what to do.
But not all of them are bad.
He remembers forcing Damian to brush his teeth for longer than 2 minutes, remembers tucking the tyke in with the bear, even the figure.
He remembers various missions, where he would pick up Damian and carry him to the nearest food stand to make him try an assortment of street foods with a series of flailing movements. Remembers the feeling of accomplishment and pride whenever the little guy would express it was adequate, because that was as good as a 5 star rating.
He remembers carrying him, hastily packed duffle bag and all, and thinking Gotham, Gotham is the safest place to be but not knowing why.
Mostly he remembers watching Damian sleep, peacefully, like he is now.
Because it's novel, then and now, how Damian trusts him enough to do it.
He sits himself down for a moment, always a little woozy when memories come surfacing up, breathing deep and leaning back. It's getting easier to remember, and Leslie had said it would stop eventually, so he weathers it out.
A second later, something warm thumps into his lap.
Damian has his head there, hands fisted like kitten's paws, curling up like a little ball.
Jason sees double, triple, memories and memories of watching this boy sleep and feeling honored and responsible and attached to him.
Brothers in arms, Talia had said, back when he wasn't quite himself, but wasn't Damian's Robin anymore either. You have a brotherâ
Jason had cut her off then, yelling that no replacement could ever be his brother.
He had eaten his words then, and he's eating them now too.
He lays a hand on Damian's back, rubs up and down his tiny shoulder blades, the way Bruce did when he was first adopted.
Brothers indeed.
He shuts his eyes, just for a moment, to breathe in the peace.
He falls asleep like that, dreaming of teddy bears and robins, and deadly, deadly assassins.
some jasons and damians thats been piling up :]
(and tim and alfred the cat)
#i can finally rest#dc#damian wayne#damian al ghul#talia al ghul#jason todd#dcu#my writing#batsiblings#batfam#batfamily#batkids#cassandra cain#dick grayson#tim drake#bruce wayne#duke thomas#alfred pennyworth#outsider pov#family feels
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