#if you want to dismantle those things you can go about it in a more above-board way

[i-do-not-even-know-why]

Some people were talking about Vi's "hypocrisy"...

(Spoilers below. Read at your own risk.)

And nope. Those are lies. Slander. And here are receipts proving the same...

Saw a few folks calling Vi a hypocrite because she prevented Caitlyn from taking the shot at Jinx. Since there was a kid in the way. Even though, APPARENTLY, Vi was all for it during season one when Jayce was concerned.

Jayce didn't want to kill the boy. He was aiming for someone else. The shot hit the little man because Jayce didn't even notice him there. He thought there was no one in the way.

That's why it hurts so much. That's why it stings and breaks Jayce's resolve. That's why he is disillusioned. He just wanted to do magic. Make the world a little better than before. And instead, he is now playing politician and soldier. And claiming lives.

This is Jayce's reaction when he sees the boy who died because of him...

And this is Vi, realising how much it's affecting him...

It's the intent that matters here.

Jayce didn't mean for the blow to land on the boy. If he knew the kid was there, Jayce wouldn't have taken the shot.

Caitlyn on the other hand wanted to shoot at Jinx while knowing Isha was in the way. She wanted to do it despite a kid literally acting as a human shield for Jinx.

I don't care how great of a shot Caitlyn is. When you risk a child's life, even if it is for the greater good, that's already taking it too far. And considering the fact that Vi clocked Caitlyn going in for the kill, you really think Isha wouldn't have?!

Once the bullet is out, no one can control it. Not even Caitlyn. And that very well could have led to Isha's death.

That kid wants Jinx around. And she is willing to die in the process.

Another point to note is the context.

Vi and Jayce were trying to dismantle the distribution of Shimmer. And when Jayce saw what it took, he pulled away. Vi didn't want to.

Silco's death was important to her. But it was now even more imperative because a kid died in the process. His demise would have been in vain if they didn't finish what they set out to do.

Vi and Jayce almost come to blows over it. And once Jayce lets her keep the gauntlets and walks away, there is Vi mourning the needless loss of a life...

I don't really understand what part of all this is hypocritical on Vi's end.

In the first instance, the kid had already died. In the second, Vi was making sure that didn't happen again.

And you know what? Even if it was hypocrisy, people are allowed to alter their motivations and decisions in the face of such fucked up and traumatic experiences.

Or in general, even! That's essentially the whole point. It's the push and pull of everyday occurences which help us evolve. Either for the better, or the worse.

Here's Jayce. Broken over the life he took...

Vi sees it. And of course she wouldn't want for it to happen to someone else. Especially Caitlyn.

Vi knows Cait is not the kind of person who would go through with it in her right mind. And that's the thing. She isn't in her right mind. Grief has overtaken her and now she will make sure it becomes everyone else's problem.

Also, if not being hypocritical is so important to you... How can you still stand with Caitlyn? What she is doing goes against not only who she is as a person, but also what she set out to do.

And that's the kicker, isn't it? Change is the whole point. They are undergoing tremendous amounts of irrevocable damage that will leave lasting impressions.

Caitlyn is so blinded by her desire for revenge that she doesn't even register any remorse. She is adamant on going after Jinx, no matter the cost. Even when it's at her own expense.

And for the people limiting Caitlyn's arc to nothing more than a sexy lady telling the world to go to hell...

Please open your eyes, or at least allow the others, to understand the layers of oppression she represents now. Not only to Zaun and the people of the Undercity, whose only fault was being born in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also for Vi.

That blorbo has gone through so much already. And obviously she has made mistakes. The whole premise of the show revolves around this facet. 'Cause that's what people do.

However, it's how you deal with it that counts more. And maybe it's just me, but holding your favourite characters and people accountable does not really lessen your love for them. Being blind in your devotion will definitely. 'Cause the disillusionment which follows is not pretty.

Know that I don't mean to offend anyone. Nor do I wish to criticize your perspective. If you feel attacked by my points because you made a joke or something over the issues I talked about here, that's not my fault. Nor my intent. Don't take it personally.

At the end of the day, it's just a show. You do you. I just cannot sit back when people spread misinformation or make baseless ignorant comments that are NOWHERE close to the truth.

It just takes a few minutes to fact check yourself. Seconds even, if you know how to do it. Maybe it's my fault for expecting better.

Anywho, that's it on this from me. Enjoy the show! And live and let live!!!

[valenshawke]

In Defense of Caitlyn Kiramman

No, this is not a defense of any of her actions or decisions she made after she donned the beret. This is a defense of the writing of her character and what (I believe) the writers are trying to do. With only one act down, there’s many ways the writers can take this. They could very well fumble it. However, I will give the writers the benefit of the doubt. With that out of the way…

The descent into darkness and the corruption arcs are classic storytelling. Where the protagonist, hit with so many traumas and setbacks, gives into her darker feelings, sometimes aided by a more devious figure in the background.

Given all the traumas that Caitlyn has experienced as explained by @bramblebeau, something was going to happen. Without Ambessa Medarda being that devious figure, would Caitlyn have gone full authoritarian at the end of episode 3? Maybe. I still think she would have, but perhaps not as far. But to argue that this is bad storytelling because Caitlyn did not keep her idealism and morality is… horrible missing the point. 

What are the points? When faced with trauma and the desire to retaliate and seek revenge, it is very easy to manipulate those who want those two things. And, in the world we actually live in, we have seen this time and again. Need I bring up the US War on Terror? Whether directly or indirectly, the cultural impact of the 9/11 Attacks, second Iraq War, and the US War on Terror has been and will continue to do so (and if you want a less subtle commentary on that, check out Naoki Urasawa’s Pluto also on Netflix). 

Ambessa Medarda not only manipulating Caitlyn, but the Piltover Elite, was masterful because it showed how easy it is when you can control the flow of information, control the rhetoric, and eventually dehumanize your “enemy” as something less than human. It’ll be fascinating to hear how Caitlyn’s speech changes and what type of language she uses when talking about Zaun.

At this point, we don’t know exactly what the writers are going to do. But it does raise some intriguing and exciting questions from a storytelling perspective. Caitlyn, right now, is at the edge of (the heart) of darkness. Is her blood-lust for revenge going to cause her to fall in? Will someone be able to talk sense into her? Can anyone in Piltover talk any sense into her? How, if at all, can Vi be the one to help/save her? Or will they save each other? How can Vi be that tiny light in the darkness when she has her own trauma to deal with? (There’s another point to examine how both dealt with the trauma by the end of Act 1. Vi went inward and, based on the trailers, went full self-destructive mode. Caitllyn went outward and became the public face of a fascist regime). 

Caitlyn already started taking steps to that darkness after she got the Kiramman key and decided that GASSING ZAUN (and all the implications THAT brings)  was the best option for her strike team to open its mission to capture Jinx, dismantle shimmer, neutralize any agents loyal to Silco. Whatever justification given, especially by Vi, is naive at best and delusional at worst. Vi might have gone along simply because she feels some blame and wants to support Caitlyn. But what Caitlyn did was unjustifiable. The moment you simply accept “collateral damage” as simply being a Tuesday, your moral dipstick is bone dry (credits to Fox Mulder for that one). But that isn’t bad storytelling. I’m supposed to feel that way.

Caitlyn’s descent, as it stands, allows the writer to either give her something of a redemption arc where she realizes the horrors of what she has done and what has to be done to fix it. 

This is classic storytelling 101.

And I am fucking here for it.

Thanks to @caitlyn-kirammans for listening to me ramble this out first.

[jaaklops]

so. the s2 intro sure is something huh

i was rewatching it and i found a LOT of symbolism in just the shots alone and im not good at analyzing so be warned

spoilers for s2 act 1 ahead! now you’ve been warned for that too

so first we start off with vi and jinx. vi rubs off the tattoo on her cheek or smudges something on it; she’s losing herself/her real self is buried in the grief and anger she feels after losing jinx during the battle, and now losing caitlyn. vi remains sitting, lingering in her emotions, while jinx stands up, and i read this as her standing up to be the new symbol zaun needs like sevika told her. vi, with her head down, is left behind while it focuses on jinx

new shot to ekko. he’s still. not moving. he’s off in the distance, not really involved at the time. he is standing in the other side of where jinx was,, maybe this signifies how far apart they are now??

second picture, he’s more active, he’s up front. it doesn’t seem like hes a major part right now but when things start to pick up he’s going to be involved

i honestly don’t know about this one but if you have any clue than do assist

cut to viktor. he’s in a cloak, picking up and holding a plain white mask. he’s becoming this god like figure who can heal the suffering (those who don’t show their true faces..the mask?) and he believes this is his new destiny. there’s light from above

later in the intro he is about to put on the mask/looking more closely at it. by now the light is gone, and it’s only coming from the mask. maybe he puts all his motivation into taking the suffering away from these people and that’s all he can see..and then jayce steps in.

(jayce/viktor’s arcs are still gonna be close together even though viktor leaves)

cut to ambessa. her face is covered by darkness and its overall just a bit dim. she’s holding a black rose and black petals are behind her. she makes no move to pick them up, instead leaving the mess for someone else. she planned the attack at the memorial in secret, and she gives power to caitlyn when in reality she’s the one pulling the strings.

in this she’s relaxed, and it looks suspiciously similar to a painting i’ve seen before but i DON’T KNOW WHICH ONE omg

cut to caitlyn. she’s almost entirely shrouded in darkness, with the exception of a bit of light in front of her face. she looks down, away from it, and she looks almost annoyed by it—her spiral into madness(i think we can call it that?)

her back is facing what looks like a curtain, and then she looks up, as if facing an unseen crowd, much more pulled together than what she was just a second ago. signifies her pulling herself together to lead piltover.

assuming it’s a stage though, shouldn’t she be at the front?

it’s very…very. that the shot of ambessa and this shot of caitlyn were put right next to each other ykyk

gonna be so honest i have no idea what this one could mean…very vague

intimidating shot of ambessa holding a black rose—the rose is the focus, while ambessa’s face is blurred. perhaps symbolizes piltover and how they’re in ambessa’s hands, not whoever the piltovians think is leading them. of course they don’t really know that, and they probably won’t until later in the season

MELLL ok for a while i too wondered what some of that even meant but then i was like WAIT.

in the first picture mel is surrounded by hands we only see in shadows. this is maybe to communicate the pressure mel feels from her mother and how it’s closing in on her all at once/she’s struggling to come to terms with everything thats happened, and now she has to deal with ambessa scheming and she wants to dismantle it, since she knows first hand just how ambessa is and she doesn’t want piltover to face the same fate

in the second picture, she’s breaking free from the hands around her and standing up for herself/fighting back

in the third picture she finds herself where ambessa once was. there’s much more light here, and the black rose (maybe still symbolizing piltover?) lays beside her. the black petals ambessa left behind are going away with the wind..l ambessa is defeated

cut to jinx again. she’s becoming fully realized as the new symbol of zaun, one that neither vander nor silco could be. waving the flag even though it looks just a tad too big for her

pretty self explanatory. caitvi’s arc

unless?

in the first picture it almost looks like vi’s staring into a mirror but no, they’re standing right in don’t of each other. neither vi nor caitlyn can see each other eye to eye, with both of each other’s emotions flying

they come to embrace but they almost seem to be thrown apart by an invisible force or pulled away from each other. so close to understanding each other but so far at the same time

ok now this i LOVE this one. see on another post that the second picture is a reference to macbeth and i just MWAH.

also pretty self explanatory..caitlyn’s arc

first picture, she’s spiraling absolutely losing her shit. pretty close to what we saw in act 1 except we were never showed it to this degree. a mental picture. she’s trying to pull everything together so she can be the leader she’s been appointed to be but she just can’t

second picture is said macbeth reference. also symbolic to her being blinded by her tunnel vision of revenge. she’s grieving you guys :(

third picture, her eyes are open and she’s looking at us like she knows something she didn’t before. it’s a realization and it’s definitely gonna be something surprising

—

hoo boy that was a doozy

honestly guys i do not know how to analyze well so i will say now that this sucked☠️but its been bouncing around in my head for a little so maybe someone can see this and make something wayyyy better with it

and besides its early in the season so this is probably all wrong😭

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Can’t tell you guys how irritating it is to have an idea of what is going to be in a given source for my research and then I go to source and it does Not Say what I want it to say

Of course if I were a literature scholar or someone more invested in “theory” I could just write whatever I wanted regardless

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[hug-your-face]

Insight today while washing the lettuce and thinking of my friend who doesn't want to vote.

They are an otherwise intelligent, responsible, generous person, who appears to be socially conscious. They have worked hard and long for their position in their profession. They express concern for the planet. They get twitchy if you use too many paper towels.

But they don’t want to vote for Biden for reasons, and quote "doesn't like the whole system where the parties take turns swinging things back and forth" unquote.

I have been dumbstruck at their attitude for about two months now. I've been thrashing back and forth trying to reconcile this person I love with their attitude:

If you care abt the planet enough to conserve paper towels, don’t you care enough to stop a Repub administration from raping the land?

If you don’t like how things can swing back and forth, don't you want an administration that's going to work to shore up, rather than dismantle, more lasting democratic systems of governance?

If you understand the value of the long game, why are you only satisfied with instant results from a single election rather than viewing that election as a single move in an ongoing process?

The insight came to me as I used an extra set of paper towels to dry my lettuce:

These people are not motivated by outcomes. They are motivated by how their choices make them FEEL.

Not how the outcomes of their choices will make them feel. But how the action associated with their choices makes them feel.

In terms of outcomes for the environment, saving paper towels doesn't do shit compared to pushing for restrictions on oil companies. But using half a paper towel is an instant dopamine hit: "Ahhh, I am caring for Mother Earth. I care. I am a good person. Ahh yes that's the stuff."

This model fits for voting too. We know that The Only Votes That Count Are Those Cast. We know that Dems Go Where The Votes Are Not Where The Votes Aren't. We know that voting in every election, every time, in numbers, is a very low-effort way to contribute to moving the Overton window farther left.

But in the moment, for people who are motivated by how their action associated with their choice makes them feel... the absolute best move for their dopamine supply is to abstain: "I am NOT supporting an old fart; I am NOT supporting genocide; I am Challenging The System; I am a good person. Ahh yes, that's the stuff."

At the time, when I challenged my friend on their position, they held up their hands and said "look, I'm not saying I have any answers, I'm just saying I don’t like how the system works."

They didn't like how participating in the system made them FEEL in the moment.

For those of us who think this is madness, hey, we aren't off the hook entirely. We are basing our choices and actions off of outcomes, true. But there's probably a feeling/dopamine component in there too. "I am holding my nose and voting Blue; I am doing my part to actually affect the future even if I hate some things abt my choice; I am a good person. Ahh yes, that's the stuff."

So maybe the difference isn't in the motivation (my feelings and self-image) but in what motivates us (my action vs the outcome of my action).

I don't have an answer to the question at this time and this post is already long enough. But I'll think on it. And I invite you to do so as well:

For these people (who seem to be a sizable part of the population), how to outweigh the choice where their action preserves their self-image, doesn't cost them dopamine for having to take a "bad" action, and maybe even gives them a happy boost for "not being part of a flawed system?"

For these people, how to help them connect more to the outcome?

Off the cuff, I can't think of any means other than cognitive-behavioral therapy. :/

EDIT: Apparently there's a term for this and it's called Emotivism -- ethics isn't abt effects but abt feelings.

[leqonsluv3r]

good girl

re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader

— a oneshot

warnings: MDNI, 18+, inappropriate use of handcuffs, unprotected sex, use of nicknames (babygirl, baby, etc), praise, porn with literally no plot, mentions of raccoon city & leon being a lil rookie, reader has hair that can be tugged on but no other physical appearance mentioned, use of female pronouns (she/her), established relationship.

“she smirks at the handcuffs, “never been arrested before…” she says with a small chuckle as she swings the handcuffs around her finger, looking up at him. “not those kinds of handcuffs, babygirl.” he says with a small grin, looking over her face as her smirk stalls a little bit. letting herself realize what he really meant, her mouth becoming dry. she was deep in it now.”

—or reader finds leon’s handcuffs and he shows her what he uses them for

when she met leon, it was hard for her to believe that he even looked her direction. not because she wasn’t his type, he loved any kind of woman, no matter how she looked.

she was just not use to someone who looked the way he did to talk to her, or even ask for her phone number. it was bizarre in her eyes, like hell had frozen over in the best way possible.

she knew he was different from other guys right from the get go, he opened the car door for her and payed for her meals. he held respect for her in the way that most men hadn’t.

and it made her like him much more then she anticipated.

they continued to go on dates, hang out at each others places and then eventually they had sex.

she had never had a guy…who felt and gave like leon did. he would gladly go down on her, no questions asked. he ate her out like she was a meal, making her back arch and her hands fist at his hair.

no man had ever made her feel like that before.

he shared everything with her, what he did before and why he was here in the city. he even shared some of his embarrassing stories from when he was a kid. they talked about everything.

and as time grew on and they became more serious, leon asked her if she wanted to move in together. get a place and be in one spot, which made her happy, but she had never lived with a man that wasn’t family before and it did make her a bit nervous at first.

leon reassured her that everything would be fine though, he knew how nervous she was. he could read her like a book after all the months they had been together.

and she said yes, which led to her packing all of her one bedroom apartment into boxes. stuffing clothes into garbage bags and dismantling furniture. she was stressed but it was definitely worth it at the end of the day.

this led her to now, currently moving all her boxes into their new place together. she was sweaty, exhausted and stressed but she had the biggest smile on her face and nothing could take that away.

she was finally in her own place with leon, nothing could be better.

“settling in? i just moved all my shit in two days ago, haven’t unpacked a single thing.” he says with a wipe of his forehead with his bicep as he walks into their practically empty kitchen.

she chuckled, “yeah, all my stuff is scattered around. i have to go pick up the furniture that i’m keeping tomorrow. didn’t have enough energy to get to it today.” she says as she sips on her plastic water bottle that she brought with her, moving some hair out of her eyes.

he smiles at her and comes over, wrapping his arms around her waist. “it’s all worth it though right?” she hears him mumble into her ear, pressing a small kiss on the shell of it. she bites her lip, trying to fight back a stupid lovesick grin, “yeah, definitely.” she says softly as she looks over her shoulder and up at him.

he was worth it, the stress of packing and unpacking was definitely worth it. being with him was worth it, all of it was. she wouldn’t trade it for anything, no matter how stressed and strung out she was right now. nothing could beat the look on her face.

leon could see that.

“do you wanna try unpacking the bedroom first? i already built the bed.” he says with a small smirk into her hair, holding onto her waist with hands that could easily crush her, but didn’t. she fights another grin, “mhm…” she hums.

they unpack the bedroom, what they can of it. she becomes exhausted after about 10 boxes. moving was clearly not her favorite task, that was apparent.

if anything she despised it, but she’d do anything for him. even if it meant packing her entire apartment into boxes just for him. she’d do just about anything for him. even this.

he sighs and looks at her, “you feeling okay?” he asks softly as he rubs his hand over her shoulder. she sighs and nods, rubbing at her eyes. “i’m just tired. today was a lot. i just…moving has never been fun.” she says with a weak smile as she looks up at him next to her.

he nods, chuckling, his hand still squeezing and rubbing at her shoulders. “but you like it right?” he asks with a teasing raise of his brow. she grins; lovesick just by his eyes on hers. “absolutely.” she responds without hesitation.

“good, thought i had something to worry about baby.” he says with a small laugh, moving to grab the last box of the bed. it was his, the messy scrawl of his handwriting on the side was barely legible. she laughs softly and sits on the side of the bed, watching him tear open the cardboard box with ease.

she looks at the decor of their room, the black iron headboard and large queen bed that had dark green sheets and a duvet to match, their photos and books, little knickknacks from life spread together throughout the room. she really was home with him.

it sunk into her exhausted bones that moment as she looks over at him, watching him unpack stuff from the box. “what’s in there?” she asks with a small looking from the box label to him.

he sighs and lifts out a picture frame, showing her a picture of him. he was definitely younger in the picture, maybe 21. he was in his police uniform, smiling widely at the camera. she smiles softly, “aww! look at you!” she says with a teasing smile as she moves over on the bed and towards the box.

she knew he was a cop at one point in his life. something unfortunate happened that made him disband from that and go to his current job. he never really spoke of it, saying that he couldn’t technically. she didn’t mind, she knew he was only following orders and doing what he needed to.

he rolls his eyes, “i wasn’t expecting that much of a reaction.” he says with a small blow of his lips. handing the framed picture towards her. she takes it and traces her fingers over the frame. “how could i not? you looked so cute in your little uniform!” she says with a small giggle as she showcases the photo in his direction again.

he rolls his eyes again, “shut up.” he chuckles lowly as he continues to pull stuff out of the box. loving his girlfriends teasing on the matter, he would agree that he was cute back in his day. back when he was a bright eyed cop, eager to protect and serve. but he had no idea what was in store from him that day in ‘98 when he went to raccoon city.

he pulls out his uniform, the spare one that they gave him to commemorate his service to the force when he first graduated the academy, holding it in his hands. a myriad of emotions crosses over his eyes and she doesn’t miss it.

“you miss it?” she says with a small curious expression over her face. her tone gentle as she analyzes the mixed look over his face. he sighs, “i only did it for one day, but i miss the idea of it.” he says as he glances over at her on the bed.

she nods in understanding, “i’m sorry, honey. i really am. i know what it’s like…in a sense to have something that you wanted ripped away from you.” she says softly as hers brows dip in sympathy. “i don’t know what happened,” she pauses and takes a small breath. “but whatever did happen that day. doesn’t mean that you aren’t still that person inside.” she whispers softly.

he smiles at her, so grateful that even if she doesn’t fully understand. she’s willing to try for him. he knows that, knows how caring, loving and understanding she is. she’s been that way since they started dating.

he dug into the box again, pulling out some handcuffs and holding them up. “i forgot all about these.” he says with a small smirk as he looks over at her. she tilts her head and her eyebrows furrow, “they’re just handcuffs…” she says with a small chuckle.

he shakes his head, “we got two pairs of them. i used one for my uniform and my other pair…these pair of handcuffs i used personally.” he says with a small smirk as he holds them up.

“personally?” she says in confusion, the dots weren’t connecting in her brain and she had no idea what he was even talking about. “i used them on the girls i dated before you.” he says as he holds up the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger with ease.

they were just a normal pair of handcuffs, normal metal ones that looked like anything a police officer would carry. that was until the dots connected and her eyes widened, realization dawning on her when she figured out what he truly meant by using the handcuffs.

her cheeks flushed red, her wide eyes blinking at him from where she sat on the bed. “really? i didn’t know you were into that.” she says and it’s not all shock, it’s curiosity and something else entirely.

he chuckles lowly, he sets the handcuffs on the bed. then moves the half empty moving box off the bed. “i am, i haven’t done it in a long time. haven’t been willing to find someone to try it again with.” he says with a small tilt of his head as he runs his fingers over the clasp of the handcuffs.

she doesn’t know what within her makes her open her mouth and say, “i’d try it with you.” she says softly as she looks at the large pads of his fingers running over the metal surface of them. as if he’s in contemplation, he looks up at her. “really? you’d be handcuffed, wouldn’t be able to touch me and i know how you like to touch me.” he says with a small quirk of his lips.

his eyes gleaming with something predatory and exciting, igniting her bones into flames. her core throbbing as she shifted on the bed under his gaze. she tucks some hair behind her ear. “yeah…” she breathes slowly, “i’d do it.”

he smirks and shakes his head, chuckling. “are you sure? you seriously wanna go down that road, baby?” he says with a grin, still holding the handcuffs in his hands. hands that could swallow her whole and easily break her in half, she feels her core throb again. that familiar feeling resurfaces in her underwear.

she nods slowly, licking her lips. she felt saliva leave her throat. she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to try it. wanted to give him what he wanted. he nods slowly and gestures to her clothes. “strip.” he says with a small demand, not even a question. something she can’t even argue against if she wanted to.

she slid off of the bed under his gaze, as she strips off her clothes one by one until she was completely bare. he feels himself get harder at everything that’s transpiring right in front of his eyes. her naked for him has never failed to make him hard, make him want to devour her whole and take her.

he goes over to the half unpacked box on the floor and gets the keys for the handcuffs, unlocking them and walking back to where she stood on the opposite side of the bed, waiting for him. he licks his lips, unlocking the handcuffs with a small clink.

she feels her arousal pooling between her legs at his gaze, blue deep pools of his irises that are almost dark with lust. he sweeps his eyes over her bare frame in front of him, “turn around, baby.” he says softly and lowly at the same time.

the gruff of his voice making her erupt in goosebumps as she turns around, putting her hands behind her back without him even having to ask. he chuckles lowly, “eager to be handcuffed, very naughty babygirl.” he hums lowly as he clamps the handcuffs around her wrists, locking them and making sure they fit comfortably around her wrists.

she feels his words wash over her, feeling the cold metal clink over her wrists behind her back, the cold feeling making a shiver crawl up her spine. he backs up, licking his lips from behind her, admiring her handcuffed and naked.

she can feel his eyes boring into the skin of her back, making her bite her lip. her core was throbbing for him, wanting him more then anything. the exciting prospect of what was to come seeped through her pussy.

he strips off his shirt and pants, tossing them to the floor by her clothes on the floor. she swallows as she hears each drop of his clothes to the floor behind her, her heartbeat accelerating in her bones as he drops his boxers.

he was just as bare as her now, he takes a couple steps closer and leans over her back, running his fingers over her stomach from behind. “all naked and dripping for me baby, i can practically smell it on you.” he says lowly as his hot breath drifts over her neck.

she swallows and her eyes flutter open and shut, “i’ll tell you what’s going to happen now, okay?” he says softly, his voice was so familiar yet raspy and full of desire for her. she nods slowly as he presses a kiss to her neck, making her bite her lip. if she bit it any harder blood would draw from the anticipation.

“your gonna get on the bed, bend over and i’m going to fuck you until your crying on my cock. sound good?” he says with a small raspy chuckle as she draws his fingers from her stomach up to her breast, lightly squeezing it. a small whine escapes from her lips as she nods. he presses another kiss to her neck, he motions for her to do what he says.

she manages to crawl onto the bed, it was more difficult without her hands. he grabs a pillow and puts it under her hips keeping her somewhat comfortable and propped up. her cheek pressed into the new sheets that covered their bed.

she feels the bed dip with his weight as he kneels behind her on the bed, running his large hand over the dip in her ass. his dick was standing at attention now, hard and leaking precum as he grabs it.

she wiggles her ass a little in his direction, “please leon, cmon.” she whines as she tries to get some kind of friction from the pillow underneath her hips. he chuckles lowly, running his hand slowly over his shaft, “patience babygirl.” he says with a small squeeze of her ass, she whimpers softly

he lets go of his cock and runs his fingers into her leaking core, putting two fingers inside of her to stretch her out. he always did this before, just to get her ready for him. no matter how many times they had sex, she still was never prepared for his size.

she moans softly into the duvet cover on their bed, trying to push back against the two fingers stretching her out. “please…” she whines as she tries to pull at the handcuffs, her pussy swallowing his fingers as he stretched her out.

“you’ll get it, like i said, patience baby. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he says in a low tone as he kneads her ass with his free hand. she whimpers and clenches around his fingers, her arousal sucking his fingers into her entrance. he continues to knead her ass and stretch her out, “sucking my fingers in princess, jesus.” he says in a small groan.

she whimpers at his words, trying to chase his fingers again but he pulls them out and she sighs at the loss. he chuckles at her small sigh, “i’m sure you’d rather cum on my cock, right?” he says with a small little smack to her ass cheek he was kneading.

she nods into the duvet her face is half buried in, her wrists aching a little from the handcuffs. he sighed softly, “don’t worry princess, i’ll give it to you. give you anything you want.” he says with a small smirk on his angelic features.

he grabs his cock and runs it through her soaked slit, whimpering trying to get friction against the head of his cock. the tip hitting her clit a couple times, making her bones ache and her core pulse.

“so wet and needy, just needed some dick.” he says in a mocking tone as he lets out a half groan, his hard erection covered in her release. she felt her pussy throb and her hole clench around nothing at his words, “well, here you go baby.” she heard him say before he shoved himself into her soaking entrance.

she moaned loudly, her body automatically reacting. she felt so full of him, her bones in her center accommodating him and his size. she felt her bones in her wrists ache as he kept one of his large hands steady on her ass, letting her get adjusted before he started moving.

“breathe, baby.” he says in a soft but low rasp of his voice from behind her. she nodded and did as she was told, breathing in and out slowly, trying to think about anything else other than the sheer size of how he stretched her out.

“good girl.” he praised when he saw her take some deep breaths. he saw her relax a little as her hips adjusted on the pillow that propped her up. he slowly flexed his hips back and pushed in a little, starting to slowly thrust.

she released small noises into the duvet on their bed, tugging at her wrists on the handcuffs. he eventually started to pick up his pace, a little faster as he grabbed onto her handcuffed wrists behind her back and tugged her up.

she gasped, him still fully sheathed inside of her. her back was now pressed to his chest, her knees shadowing his on the bed. he held one hand on her stomach and another on her breast, kneading slowly as he began thrusting deeper at this new angle.

she moaned loudly and canted her head back, tears welling in her eyes, “leon…” she moaned as she felt her hands form fists behind her back. his hands keeping her steady as he fucked into her from behind, his his snapping against her ass. “good girl…” he groans into her ear, “fuck…so fucking…god—tight…christ.” he manages to get out between moans and groans that escaped his lips.

his touch to her chest and his words, she felt that familiar feeling bubble in her lower belly. “harder…” she whined as she tried to move against her handcuffs on her wrists. he obliged, bending her back over the pillow and putting his hands on her hips, snapping into her with such force that their bed shook.

her eyes went crossed and she felt tears leak out of her eyes, almost drooling on the sheets as moans leaked from her mouth. chants of his name, curses and screams of pleasure. sex with him never disappointed, ever.

“gonna…cum…” she managed to get out in between the cries of pleasure and the sound of his hips against her ass. he just kept pounding into her, like a wild animal. she pulled at the handcuffs on her wrists again, clenching her fists as she felt herself becoming closer and closer to the end.

“cum for me, princess. scream my name.” he says lowly as he keeps snapping his hips, making curses fall from their mouths in a chant. he could feel himself getting closer, his hips starting to stutter but so determined to deliver what she needed.

she felt the blissful end, her eyes fluttering shut and then lined with tears. “leon!” she screamed as she came, releasing all over his cock as she melted into the mattress. the clenching of her around him, her walls sucking him in was enough for him to release a low groan, “princess…”

his end came too, shooting thick ropes of cum into her womb, painting her walls white with him. she could feel him filling her up, feeling so dazed and full. just so satisfied that her body and arms felt like jelly.

he breathed heavily as he reached away on the bed, grabbing the handcuff keys, unlocking the handcuffs and tossing them on the floor by their clothes. she felt her arms collapse down to the mattress.

he pulled out of her, their mixed fluids leaking out of her. he leaned down a ways on the bed and licked the dripping fluids from her entrance, causing her to shiver and her thighs to tremble a little from her intense orgasm.

“you did so good, so fucking good baby. c’mere.” he says softly as he leaned back and moved to the headboard. she weakly raised her body from the kneeling position on the bed, moving her shaking and sweaty body to lay beside him.

he wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her sweaty hairline. his hands rubbing up and down her spine. “so proud of you.” he whispers into her hair. she smiles lazily as she looks up at him from her head on his shoulder.

she blushes from his praise, the tiredness from the day of moving and the sex sweeping over her. “sleep now, we’ll deal with all the other shit tomorrow.” he says calmly, running a hand through her hair and holding her naked body close to his.

and she did, her eyes fluttering shut. his heartbeat against her ear pulling her into sleep. their heartbeats in sync as they held each other, promising not to let go.

taglist: @heartsforvin

an: hope you guys enjoyed, please interact if u did :,) my asks and requests are open in my bio. my taglist and masterlist are linked at the beginning if u wanna interact. i love you all sm <33 kisses, xx

[feminine-obedient-alexandra]

First Times

For a long time, i didn't understand what Men find hot about this. A girl licking a toilet or other non-sexual but icky things. But nowadays i know that it isn't about sex, it is about dignity. A normal person wouldn't lick the toilet, but a dirty whore would. That means by licking the toilet the girl admits to being a dirty whore. She shows that she has no boundaries, that she will do anything for him. Often it does not even matter what it is she does, as long as she does it because he wants it (and would never do it without him demanding it). And the more repulsive the action is, the more turned on the Man gets.

By debasing ourselves, by lowering ourselves to toilet licking whores, we can attract male attention. Every girl can look pretty in a dress, it is not that difficult. And while it is also not technically difficult to lick a toilet, most girls get stopped by their pride and dignity. Only by being able to overcome those burdens, we can show Men that we are worth their time. We can show them that we don't act inside the normal morals, that we are not like all the other girls, we are better, more fun. Of course, toilet licking is here just an example, not every Man will be into this particular action, but what they are into is into pushing the boundaries of what is considered "normal".

In that sense, it is kind of a test. A test if we are ready to submit or if our pride and dignity have ruined us. When it comes to sex Men have a very dirty and creative mind. There will always be new things that they invent. Just look at the porn industry. One would assume that by now every kind of porn has already been shot but yet the industry is booming with more and more videos coming out each day. Men don't want to let their sex life get stale, they need new things. So while it might have been enough to show some ankle 150 years ago, today Men need more. They need dirty sluts. They need us to throw away the "morals" of society and go the extra mile. Where it once has been showing some ankle, then maybe some knee and now we are in a time where clean-shaven pubic hair and anal sex is expected.

It won't stop. It will keep going. Men will need more and more, we can't just sit back and relax on the basis that we once licked a toilet. No, Men need more and need it repeated. You cannot do things for the first time twice. Once you degraded yourself in a certain way, you can repeat it but you can never make happen for the first time again. With each repeat, it will get easier and more normal. That is why morals shift - there will always be people on the edge of what is "normal" and push the boundaries a little further. And after a while, it is not seen as weird anymore and a new normal gets created.

So keep in mind that with every degrading action, with every defiance of your pride and with every renouncing of your dignity, you shift what's normal a little bit further. And every first you give your Man just ingrains you in his brain. A Man will not remember the 10th blowjob he got, but he sure as hell still knows everything about the first time he came into a girl's mouth. Do your research and check the porn sites for new stuff. Look at what is trending, those are the videos Men are watching. Watching something is the first step. After they have seen plenty of it, they will want to experience it. So prepare by watching the same videos and get used to the ideas in porn. Over time even the most degrading actions can appear normal to us, use this to your advantage and always be one step ahead :)

Of course, this does not mean that this is all Men want. Men want a variety of things, they are quite complex beings. But porn, sex, and degradation go hand in hand. Every Man is influenced by them to some extent. Some more and some less. But it never hurts to dismantle any pride you might feel. Pride never helped anyone, it is poisonous. With dignity it is the same. No girl ever got her prince charming because she was the most dignified. No Man ever had an orgasm from respecting a girl.

[yesimwriting]

Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

[angelsndragons]

okay so as a federal worker, i tell you this not to make you panic but to give you time to do what you need to do:

it's the holiday season. in addition to the federal holidays, federal workers build up leave throughout the year. the longer you've been with the federal government, the more leave you accumulate. this time of year, many federal workers will be taking their "use or lose" leave, aka the leave they've accumulated that's over the 240 hour cap you can carry into the next calendar year.

that means if you have any renewals or want to apply to anything that requires the federal government, DO IT NOW. many departments are already understaffed but this time of year? yeah, skeleton crews are the norm.

please be patient. you can check in every week or two to see where your stuff is but please be patient. many of us are going to be working our butts off in the next three months to ensure your stuff gets done. but we're only human. if you have an agency number, calling is often better than emailing. yes, even if you have to wait on the line for a while.

notaries can be extremely backed up. if you have an appointment which requires a notary's signature, make sure that you have every single thing ready the second you walk in. you don't want to have to come back.

understand that the ship of state turns slowly. we do have a lot of mechanisms in place to keep things from falling apart completely HOWEVER this time the Executive Leadership is directly coming at us with the intention of fully dismantling certain departments. chief on their list that i've seen is the department of education. if you have a special needs child in a special ed program or are one yourself, check to see who's funding the program (feds, state, local, etc) and plan accordingly. if the feds pull out their money, you need to know who's handling the gap and what happens if it can't be filled. that goes for other programs like housing.

if the republicans control the house, senate, and white house, expect them to defund everything you care about. the only spending i can see them increasing is the department of defense and border patrol. everything else? huge budget crunch. if you think the government is slow now, is unresponsive now, oh boy, just you wait. this will send a shock wave through the economy - the feds are huge spenders in many areas (sometimes the only thing keeping places afloat). much of the government is too big and unwieldy to dismantle all at once (particularly the pieces entwined with big business) but that doesn't mean they can't launch giant holes into the things they really hate. plan accordingly.

the fda director will try to ban sending abortion pills in the mail. plan accordingly. does this step on the usps' toes? yes. do they care? nope, republicans have been trying to privatize them for years. plan accordingly.

if you want to know the baseline fuckery you'll be expected to deal with, the department of veterans' affairs was shadow run by marvel executives for two years last time. i'm not joking. the white house is going to bypass any pretense of confirming executive leadership by making every single one of them "acting director of such and such." those don't require congressional approval.

if you're a dreamer and you've applied for some kind of federal relief, i would advise you to be extremely careful. your information is in a federal database and the republicans want to round up everyone of latino descent. they've already confirmed that they want to deport whole families irrespective of citizenship to "stop family separation."

stay calm and plan accordingly.

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Star Wars, friends. I know this is not why you follow me, but please make this my most shared post.

You are here.

We're living the lead-up to Revenge of the Sith, and it scares me so much a) it feels like there is so little we can do, and b) young people are acting as if there is nothing we can do.

If you don't know what's going on, I need you to wake up and get engaged.

I have two history degrees. My whole life I've always been the person saying, "When people say, 'This is the most important election ever," it just shows how little they know about history.'"

So please believe me when I tell you that THIS is the most important election (cycle, not just presidential race) that you will likely ever be a part of.

Trump is not Hitler. He's too stupid to be Hitler.

But our democracy only held together in 2020 because of a few people like Mike Pence who were willing to stand up against Trump when it was truly the last line of defense. I know that's hard for some of you to hear, but whatever you think of his beliefs, Pence showed he has integrity and stands by the Constitution.

There will be no Mike Pences this time around. Trump will not make the mistake of surrounding himself with those who are not fully committed to him.

Trump is a convicted felon. He is running to avoid his convictions and likely jail time more than anything else. If he wins, he will be able to pardon himself of his federal crimes, but he's going to keep acting like Donald Trump. If he's still alive in 2028, do you think he will leave the White House peacefully and just submit to further cases against him?

Please watch John Oliver's recent expose on Project 2025 and Trump's Second Term. It is linked in a comment below.

Trump and his administration are already putting in place plans for sweeping reforms that truly will make America look like The Handmaid's Tale. Presidents usually will push for more when they're in their second term because they don't have to worry about another election campaign, but this is different. This is about dismantling the democratic system so that it only benefits the most radical conservatives and Christians.

Christians, I am one of you. I was raised Evangelical (capital E meaning politically motivated culture warrior), and I am still evangelical (lower-case e, referring to theological beliefs). This is not the posture of Christ-followers. There is no good that comes from state-mandated religion, which both coerces people to claim that they are believers for social and cultural clout AND waters down the true religious fervor of the church because most people are only nominal believers.

There is NOTHING about Christian Nationalism that is in the best interest of Christians or in the best interest of the neighbors Christians are called to sacrificially love. If you need a reminder of who your neighbor is, read Luke 10:25-37.

Please start talking with your friends. Young people, please register to vote and bring your friends to do the same.

I know so many of you are disillusioned. I am too. Things that are going on in Palestine and Ukraine and so many other places make it very hard to vote for people with "D"s behind their names (especially after the recent presidential debate).

But punishing Joe Biden is not the revenge you want to pursue here. Are you unhappy with him giving Israel $12.5 billion? I am too, but do you think that number won't be repeated multiple times under Trump? Again, I was raised Evangelical. A staple of (politically-focused) Evangelicalism is that Christians (and thus America) must support (the modern state of) Israel no matter what because they have a hyper-literal understanding of the verse where God tells Abraham that he will bless those who bless him (including his descendants who became Israel).

Do not underestimate the importance of that view in their ideology. Nearly every member of my biological family has shunned me for suggesting that this is not a blanket endorsement of every action the modern state of Israel takes.

Trump is a criminal running for president to save his skin. He supports Benjamin Netanyahu, the prime minister of Israel who is now himself wanted for war crimes. Trump has aligned himself with the authoritarian leaders/dictators of Hungary, China, North Korea, and Russia. He is open about his love for Russian president Vladimir Putin's authoritarian regime and stands against Ukraine's democracy and national sovereignty.

This is what happened before World War I and World War II.

I know this isn't what you follow me for.

But George Lucas was showing the dangers of authoritarianism. He shows that democracy is hard. It's frustrating trying to negotiate with people you disagree with vehemently. It may seem like nothing gets done.

Go and watch the Naboo picnic scene. Go and do it. And after chuckling at all the funny memes it's given us, let me tell you why it scares me so much.

Because Padme laughs.

Anakin tells her who he is, and she laughs.

She passes it off as a joke, or as flirting, or maybe even as just the ignorant views of a boy who views life as far more black and white than she knows it to be.

But the alternative to all of that frustrating democracy, all that gridlock in the Senate, all those choices and compromises you have to make in order to benefit the people at all ... the alternative is a dictator who says, "I will make all the decisions for us."

That's why there are people who applaud Palpatine. That's why we as viewers see Bail and Padme as the reasonable ones and think it's crazy that anyone would applaud, but they do.

The applaud because Palpatine says, "You don't have to be frustrated anymore. You don't have to be worried about those who disagree with you anymore." Safety and security and ease are powerful temptations when you live in a polarized society, and Palpatine offers them all of those things.

That's why many people applaud Trump, too.

There were also people who applauded Palpatine who did see the danger of what he was doing. But they applauded because it was easier to do so. He had already amassed power because they didn't stand up to him before. They applaud him now because standing against him now would have dire consequences they wouldn't have faced if they had stood against him before.

So vote. And get your friends to vote.

If there is any part of you that believes Star Wars has important things to tell us about real life, then I need you to fan that flame into a fire.

Otherwise, you won't be living in the prequels anymore. You will be living in the time of the Empire.

Vote.

[pedrospatch]

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these damn things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but heartache this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 11 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 (here) — Part 12 — Part 13

Like dominos, one thing led to another as predicted

With Alastor motivated to do his absolute to please you, Husk’s hellish training and push to be a worthy Overlord reached its heights. Though, to not cause suspicion to the other residents of the hotel, namely Angel, Husk made appearances here and there just so no one would claim that Alastor was being unreasonable

As for Velvette, she was being mentored by Rosie and Carmilla. It started with just exploring her new title as a ‘Threater Demon’. Her eye in fashion, her want to command, and her presentation skills were strong. Her role in your collection was to project information and messages you want Hell to know about

Because with Hell’s win over Heaven, big changes were bound to come. Not to mention, Trick would be wanting some action on their side and not just to watch their realm fret over yours. You understand the sentiment, after all, you enacted the system for Overlords for that sole purpose in the first place

Now, it was a lucky thing that the Vees actually divided territories before Velvette went solo, because those served as her base of operations and her new home. With Carmilla’s help in construction, Velvette has her own building to call home and workplace. With Rosie’s pointers, Velvette was capable of recruiting talents of worth to her growth

As an Overlord should, Velvette gathered souls to her side through contracts and slowly started to build her own base and support. Just as Alastor was supporting Husk in such a task, albeit it was more complicated since Husk was still under Alastor’s leash at the moment

Her souls comprised of individuals from the fashion and entertainment industries, not too different from her former work associates, so she was able to handle things all on their own. However, there was one thing that she made clear to her people or demons, which is; she was no long part of the Vees and when they sign a contract with her, it’s only to her service

That was something you’re quite proud to hear her say. Even when she is technically starting from rock bottom, she is not using anyone’s name to give herself a boost to start strong and fast, she was using her own. Granted that you allowed Carmilla and Rosie to help, but they were only serving as guidance and giving her advice on what direction to go in. After all that, they took a backseat and watched

To see her rise from the ashes of her own burnt flame was a spectacle and what you have been aiming and doing with your Overlords since the beginning. It was what you have designed when you took initiative to lead a group of overpowered Sinners. They were more than souls doomed to suffer in Hell

In your dark and cruel eyes, they were so much more. While around the majority of the deceased are destined for Hell, their crimes when living define their powers in Hell and their authority in a sense. You being the puppeteer behind your Overlords shows their potential but also their limits because they can never amount to anywhere above Hellborns of great destruction

You have your Overlords their domain of special title. Zestial of Fear, Carmila of War, Rosie of Dismantlement, Zeezi of Violence, Alastor of Domination, and now Velvette has joined their ranks. Velvette of Recreation. So you never let anything destroy or interrupt Velvette’s growth

It’s funny to watch was Vox’s panic over Velvette’s absence and silence. You had given Alastor a power boost to interfere with Vox’s persistent surveillance. The last thing you wanted was for your two new rising stars to have a stalker that will ruin plans and hard work. So now all Vox could do was try to make more public appearances to hypnotize others into staying relevant

Though it wasn’t like you were going to do anything about it. You did, however, receive information from your other Overlords that Vox has been asking around as to where Velvette was. Well, you have to give him credit of being bold enough to ask others where his former associate was at, even though it showed his stupidity

“M’re tea, mine own Liege? (More tea, My Liege?)” Zestial offered with the hovering items. 

“Zestial, this is a redemption lesson.” You politely and indirectly declined his offer.

“Th’re is barely anyone h’re. (There is barely anyone here)” Zestial laughed, still offering you your drink to which you accepted. “And I am listening to the princess’ lesson, m’rely… multitasking. (And I am listening to the princess’ lesson, merely… multitasking.)”

Currently, you were sitting in a lesson of the Princess in her endevours to make her hotel a success. While you admire her dedication, you can hardly see her plans succeeding and that’s what you show her despite knowing of Sir Pentious’ arrival to Heaven

As you were attending her class, it just so happened that Zestial was stopping by for tea with you and joined you when you said you were busy attending Charlie’s little class. Needless to say, Zestial saw no use in such efforts, labelling Charlie’s dream as ‘flight of fantasy’ rather than a goal to strive towards

Zestial taken great offence when Charlie was promoting her aim to him when he first passed through the doors of the hotel, claiming that he never wish or dreams of leaving Hell so long as you permitted him to stay by your side. He saw Charlie’s gracious offer to be good as an insult to him and his devotion to your services, going as far as to see it as a betrayal of your mercy had he paid half a mind to Charlie’s words

It was only because you’d be free after Charlie’s lesson does he stay at the hotel. As for why he was also attending the lesson? It was because it didn’t want to waste a second away from you when he can. Unlike the other Overlords, Zestial was the one to have known you the longest and that has given him some unique privileges 

For example, he could contact you physically or mentally while others have to wait for you to contact them. That was why he suggested for Carmilla to contact you about the matter of the angel’s death instead of waiting for your summons

Another was his authority to stand in as you to a certain degree while you were absent among the gathering of Overlords, that’s why he had that level of say and respect from the others (apart from the Vees, it would seem)

“Hey, Princess!” Vox’s robotic voice boomed through the doors to the room’s doors behind they slammed open unceremoniously to reveal a frantic technology demon. “Princess! I know you’re a good and kind person, er, demon, so I want your help—”

“Help in what?” You questioned but your tone made it sound like a challenge in it of itself.

The moment Vox heard your voice within the room behind him, he froze and like the technology he is, he robotically turned around to meet your eyes. “Ma- I mean… You’re here…” His eyes looked away then back to you and away again, repeating this as though it was a shy schoolgirl with their crush in a love confession. “What a coincident… Haha…”

“Charlie dear.” You got up and Zestial follow suit, indirectly sending a chill down Vox and everyone else’s spine.

“Yes?” Charlie tried her best to keep an unaffected expression, but the way her body trembled and her hands gripped at her sheets of papers till they were all wrinkled up was evident that even she was shaken up.

You smiled back with a small tilt of your head, “I’ll be leaving my leave and bringing Vox along, do continue your lesson on boundaries.”

Zestial followed behind you, “I too shall beest taking mine own leaveth, has’t a pleasant day, princess. (I too will be taking my leave, have a pleasant day, Princess.)”

Vox grudgingly followed along behind the two of you with his head down.

While walking down the halls of the hotel, the mere appearance of Zestial made any demon near you fear for their lives and left with screams and shrieks. Some wondering why such a fearsome character was even in a hotel for redemption and some wondering if such an irredempable demon can be sent to Heaven with Charlie’s help

At those demon’s whispers, Zestial was quick to show why he was still feared even after the emergence of newer and powerful demons that joined the ranks of the Overlord. You reminded indifferent as you continued onwards to your room while Vox held himself back from flinching at Zestial’s more violent and unseen side

Your head turned to the side as you stole a glance at Vox. He was still straightened up, but that was all a facade to hide his fear and anxiety. You internally sighed while Zestial was quick to make work of the disgrace he faced from the shadows and joined her side once more

As clear as day, you recall when there was a time where Alastor spoke praise of Vox and his powers. How he captivated your interest with the potential growth and rise his powers could bring, the thrill you felt when Alastor listed out all the things that he saw Vox could do

The only reservations Alastor had with Vox was his dependence on Alastor as they were sharing a partnership. While Alastor took credit for what he has down, Vox was eager to share his achievements and accomplishments with Alastor’s name, advertising that he was nothing without the help of Alastor who was already an Overlord

Alastor did tell you that Vox wanted and aimed to be an Overlord, but it was to be on the same level as Alastor. As anyone could see, Vox was doing his all to be on Alastor’s equal and to you, that was disappointing. Here Alastor was, recommending Vox to be within your collection when all Vox wanted was to be by Alastor’s side

Oh how you wanted to crush Vox and stuff him into one of your Cages. But you held back, instead, it was more pleasing to see him suffer and rise from the ashes of pain and torture. You gave Alastor a simple suggestion

Break ties with Vox and let him tred his own path

Followed your indirect order Alastor did. Within the minute Alastor broken any and all relationship with Vox, a battle broke out. One where Alastor showcased his power and strength to be leagues above what Vox had in mind

You were perched atop your throne while your other Overlords watched Alastor’s victory and Vox’s defeat within the space you’ve created for them all. The smile you had on you was so wide that your cheeks hurt afterwards when Rosie pointed it out

Then it wasn’t long before Vox seemingly bounced back from his reality check and came back into the spotlight. To your disappointment, Vox used the media in a poor attempt to push Alastor out of power. The little cat and dog fight was entertaining for only a moment’s time as Vox was biting out more and more of Alastor’s time and attention from his rightful duties

The excuse for your intervention only came when Vox claimed to have an Overlord title. Immediately, you brought him into your domain for such a daring claim. Contrary to your expectations, he fell a few feet down, but out of your favouritism for Alastor and trusting in him, you gave Vox a chance. You did need someone to fill in Husk’s place after all

While his offer to share his Overlord status was a unique and intriguing one, his choices were poorer than a human’s foolishness. At the time, there was promise in Velvette, but Valentino was another matter entirely. Still they did work well together, you’ll give them that. So for the first time ever, there was a group of three sharing the title of Overlord

Now that you look back on it, it was a misjudgment on your place. Trusting in Alastor’s words when vouching for Vox was one thing, trusting in Vox’s choice of companionship was another. Still, you see the issue and that somethings could never be changed no matter what

You lost counts on the chances you gave the Vees. If they were any other Overlords in your collection, they’d be long disposed off, but you let them stay out of the goodness of your nonexistent heart

It was a lie

Within your collection, you needed someone at the bottom to be the receiving end of your fury and for someone to be an example to when things don’t go as you please. There needs to be a system of rewards and punishments and who better than the Vees? They have their uses and they wanted to stay. Whether or not they see through your intentions is another story, but you like that they were naive

Before the Vees was Husk who was royally kicked out and still suffering today. Of course he’s aiming to change now with the help of Alastor. Before Husk was a few others not even worthy of your memory. Though the first and successful one? 

Zeezi, your perfect stress toy

It was through her that you realized the need for a bottom rank within your collection. What better to have something dull and trashy to better showcase your most prized ones? Just like now, Vox compared with Alastor. It’s obvious who’s better. The comparison and competition made you ever more pleased with your top favourites

So far, Velvette has been the only one that seeked help to break away from her consequence. You would bet Valentino still sees nothing wrong and would continue as he always had. The question remains… Will Vox change too?

In doing so, put Valentino up for elimination?

You chuckled darkly as you entered your room, taking a seat by the window. “Come on in.”

Vox followed in with a shiver while Zestial closed and locked the doors behind them. The room thrusted into darkness before their surroundings resembled the galaxy appeared before their eyes, something a Sinner can never witness again after their fall. 

“Now,” You smirked, Zestial taking his place by your side and poured you a cup of tea he magically made appear. Your melodious voice played like a record but your words were sharp as knives. “Why did you seek out the dear Princess of Hell?” Vox gulped as much as he wanted to stare at anything by you, he knew it was a death sentence. “Instead of looking for my assistance?”

Note: Been a while since this series was updated. Not sure how many of you still read this. I thought of dropping this series a lot of times because of the writer's block, but here's the next part. I enjoy the asks, ideas, and trivia you guys sent me! What you think would happen now?

Hope you enjoyed this one~

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @snowy-violet @charlottesskiss @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203 @hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft @lousypotatoes @crazysuityouth @jellyedkazoo @wat4r @kiraisastay @thealienartist @chefysawesomeideas @wtvbabes @patronizingbitch @koshi-kazu @craftyperfectiontragedy @scr4luv @chrollobb @mysterypotatoink @callmefe @dokukg69 @ratchetprime211 @freejayde @prettyprincess-ily @cgmajor @mook14 @ace-spades-1 @yuuandtheghost @abbiesxox @martinys-world @kiraisastay

[yan-lorkai]

Since I checked that suggestive fic are fine could you write one for Jamil where reader has been pining for him for a long time but he is hesitant since he has Kalim to take care off and can't slack off or smth

Ignore if you want :) and sorry if I overlooked a rule!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I've made you wait quite a bit, darling, but I finally finished writing this ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾. Though I let it end in a happy ending, originally it was going to end in a more bittersweet way. Either way, I hope you like it!

You had always known there was something about Jamil that captivated you, pulling you in with each passing day. He was more than just the stoic and responsible figure that stood in Kalim’s shadow. He was hardworking, kind and always reliable, traits that only made your heart ache with longing. For so long, you kept your feelings hidden, knowing he carried more responsibility than anyone should, but tonight, something in you snapped.

You watched Jamil move through the courtyard, his shoulders slightly hunched from the weight of the day. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to tell him how you felt, even if you knew there was a risk he might push you away. He needed to know that there was he could lean on.

"Jamil," you called out softly, your voice barely carrying across the courtyard. His steps slowed, and he turned toward you, his usual unreadable expression in place.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice steady but his eyes filled with that quiet exhaustion you had come to recognize.

You swallowed, nerves threatening to choke your words. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Jamil raised a brow, stepping closer. “I’m listening.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you gathered your courage. “I, uh… Well, Jamil, I like you. A lot. I know you’re always busy, taking care of Kalim, and I know how hard you work, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way. I've been holding onto those feelings for a very long time.”

For a moment, there was silence. Jamil blinked, visibly taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to hesitate, his brows furrowing in deep thought.

You pressed on, feeling your chest tighten. “I just wanted you to know. I know you have a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to be a burden, but I had to tell you how I feel.”

Jamil exhaled slowly, his eyes softening as he watched you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but again, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to pull him back.

“It’s not that I don’t…” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t afford to get distracted right now. Kalim needs me. I can’t let my guard down, even if it’s for something — someone — I care about.”

Your breath hitched at his words but before you could respond, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

“Oh, come on, Jamil!” Kalim’s voice rang out from behind the nearby fountain, startling both of you. He stepped out from behind the marble structure with a wide grin, looking between you and Jamil like this was the best thing he’d ever witnessed. “I knew you liked them too! You don’t have to worry about me so much!”

Jamil’s eyes widened in shock, a flush creeping up his neck. “Kalim — what are you — how long have you been listening?”

Kalim waved off Jamil’s question with a laugh, completely unbothered. “Long enough! I wasn’t spying, I promise, but I heard some of what you said. Jamil, you work so hard, but you’re allowed to be happy too! I can take care of myself sometimes, you know.” He grinned, glancing at you. “And besides, I think they’d make you really happy, they always looked at you with such adoring eyes!”

Your heart fluttered, unsure of what to say. Kalim, in his usual cheerful way, had just dismantled all the walls Jamil had carefully built around himself.

“Kalim, it’s not that simple,” Jamil muttered, still looking flustered.

Kalim crossed his arms, his grin never fading. “It is that simple! You deserve to have someone who cares about you. I’ll be fine! And, you know, I kinda already figured you liked them.”

Jamil looked down, clearly battling with himself, but Kalim’s words seemed to have chipped away at his resolve. He glanced back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and… something else.

After a long pause, Jamil let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… I do like you. More than I’ve wanted to admit,” He finally said, his voice soft but sincere. “But I’ve always been worried that if I let myself have something for me, it’ll somehow mess everything up.”

You stepped closer, your heart swelling with hope. “You won’t mess anything up, Jamil. You deserve to have something for yourself, too. I’m not asking you to change anything — I just want to be there for you, like you’re always there for everyone else.”

Jamil looked at you for a long moment, and finally, his tense posture relaxed. He exhaled deeply, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe… you’re right.”

Kalim clapped his hands, clearly thrilled with the way things were unfolding. “See? This is great! I’ll be fine, Jamil. You two go ahead and be happy together!”

Jamil shot him a look, but there was no real bite behind it. Instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes softening in a way you’d never seen before. “I can’t promise I’ll always get it right,” he murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “But I’ll try. If you’re willing to put up with that.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth as you took his hand. “I’m more than willing.”

As you stood there, hand in hand with Jamil, Kalim grinning like he had just orchestrated the happiest ending possible, you couldn’t help but feel that, maybe, everything had finally fallen into place.

[spacelazarwolf]

Hi, I was going through some of your old posts and wanted to clarify something. Do you think transfems can have internalized misogyny? Are they in your experience especially prone to sexism from having grown up as someone assigned male at birth?

weird vibes from this ask, i can’t tell if you’re trying to bait me or genuinely curious. if it’s bait, get fucked. in case it’s not, here’s my answer:

i think anyone can struggle with internalized misogyny or internalized patriarchy, especially women or people who are expected to be women. and, as the name would suggest, trans women are women. when a woman is told by society that her worth is in her appearance, and she internalizes that and starts judging herself based on those patriarchal expectations, that’s internalized misogyny. this is especially compounded for trans women and trans femmes, whose identity is already questioned by society. they face extremely intense scrutiny to look or act a certain way, to hold a certain societal role to “prove” their womanhood or femininity, so it’s not surprising that many struggle with internalized misogyny and judging themselves on the patriarchal norms that are violently forced on them. so yeah not only do i think they can have internalized misogyny, i think it’s inevitable for them to struggle with at some point on their transition journey simply because of how inescapable misogyny is in our society.

in terms of “socialization” based on agab, i think the entire concept is flawed. we’re all socialized to act a certain way based on our upbringing and environment, and very often our agab influences that, but there is no universal “afab/amab experience” and simply being raised as a boy or a girl doesn’t make you inherently more or less prone to sexism. i’ve known cis men who are staunch feminists because of their upbringing, who always work to dismantle patriarchal norms in the spaces they’re in. i’ve also known cis women who were deeply misogynistic and deeply harmed the people in their lives because of their insistence on forcing patriarchal norms onto them.

i’m not going to pretend i haven’t had bad experiences with individual trans women being sexist or misogynistic, but that’s because trans women are in fact people and people aren’t perfect. i have experienced misogyny from many different kinds of people, and the thing it always has in common is an attempt to make sure everyone’s staying in their patriarchy-prescribed box. we’ve all grown up in a sexist and misogynistic society that impresses on us how important it is to stay in our box and make sure others stay in their box.

we all have things to unlearn, including trans people. being trans doesn’t magically absolve us of doing that work. unfortunately that means there are going to be instances where trans people, including trans women and trans femmes, perpetuate misogynistic or sexist rhetoric. but i have found that offline the vast majority of my conversations with trans women and trans femmes about my experiences with misogyny and sexism go something like this:

“i face this as a trans man.”

“woah i had no idea, thanks for telling me. i relate to this tangentially because of the way trans people often have multiple gender roles forced on us at once.”

“wow i love connecting with other trans people through common experiences even if they might not be 1:1.”

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

hi! felix here. i have very important things to talk about todayyy

as many of u probs know i am not an adult. i am under 16, i am not eligible to vote, and i wont be for quite some time. and so those of you who are eligible to vote in the united states i am BEGGING YOU: please vote for biden.

i dont' care if you think he sucks. i don't care if you think he's ruining the country. trump is worse.

you hear that?

TRUMP IS WORSE.

this isn't about "lesser of two evils". this isn't about that. cos at the end of the day: u want a president who's pretty shit, or u want a president who is actively trying to dismantle the last semblances of democracy we have in this country, demonize being queer, remove all resources that have to do with sex health, put women's rights back as far as he can get them, make it more dangerous than ever for poc, and probably fund israel even more than the money that's already going into it?

yeah. yeah, that's what i thought.

vote biden, because otherwise the entire world fucking ends. and no, that is not hyperbole. if the USA falls, i fear that britain is not far behind, and then every european republic falls, and just. think about it. do you want the shit president or the crazy bastard who wants to be a dictator?

if you are 18+ and in the united states of america i am begging you unironically:

vote biden.

please.