#para: a mothers touch

[honeybearee]

A Mother's Touch

By the time Cameron found his way back home, the sky had dimmed enough to spark the streetlights to life, and he found no trace of Anna's car. Or Hanna or Jesse's for that matter. He breathed a sigh of relief as he neared the house, slowly climbing the front steps as he was suddenly aware of how heavy and sore his legs felt.

He'd long since worked off the anger and irritation that kept winding itself into his brain, like a fly that kept buzzing around his head. Now, he just felt exhausted and sad, and he desperately wanted to shower and climb into bed, where he could scroll endlessly online until he passed out.

However, once inside, he noticed his mother sitting cross-legged on one end of the couch, a crochet needle in hand as she worked through whatever project she had going currently. He could hardly remember a time when she wasn't crocheting in the evening -- and he'd had countless blankets and winter hats and scarves to prove it.

His father sat quietly at his desk, clacking away at the keys, and Cameron honestly had no clue what he was doing -- only that he was a million miles away and completely oblivious to his son's presence. All the more convenient for his mother, he decided, as she beckoned him to sit next to her on the couch.

"The kettle is still warm, if you want some tea," she offered as he sat down beside her, groaning softly as he did so. She smiled sympathetically as she continued to crochet.

"No, thanks. I'm probably just going to shower and head to bed."

"Well, why don't we talk for a little bit?" Mel asked, trying to keep her tone casual but Cam knew that she was far more invested in this conversation than she wanted to admit. Cameron glanced back at his father, whose gaze remain fixed on the computer screen in front of him, keys clicking rhythmically as he wrote. What on earth was he up to? Nevermind, he thought as he looked back at his mom.

"Yeah, sure. What do you want to talk about?" Cam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew, of course, but he was going to make her ask him.

"Seems like things maybe didn't go so well with you and Anna earlier." Mel said, but she kept her eyes fixed on her project, only glancing up at the TV screen every now and again.

"No, I guess not..." Cam sighed, and he felt overwhelmed all over again. He had gone over it again and again, and he just couldn't make sense of what she had said. He never would have ignored a text from Anna. Never would have left her on read. He could see not taking a call in certain situations -- namely if Cristina was around, if he was being honest with himself -- but not outright ignoring it.

But if she said he had, then he had. Anna wasn't a liar, he knew that much hadn't changed about her.

He wound up circling back to the thought that maybe something was wrong with him. Was he suffering some weird sort of memory loss? Had he just straight up ignored people and not realized it? He had even gone through his messages and phone logs as he walked, trying to find any evidence of what she was saying, but he came up empty.

He felt like he was losing his mind.

Cam sucked in a deep breath and sighed heavily before saying, "Mom, I think I'm going crazy."

Mel's hands stilled, her hook halfway through a stitch, but she set it down in her lap, her place completely forgotten.

"What do you mean?" She asked, eyes narrowed.

"I just mean like. I must be forgetting shit or just. I don't know. Anna said that I've ignored her for years and then suddenly I just want to act like everything is normal, but like. I never really got anything from her after Cristina and I got married. She just. Stopped messaging or calling me... but maybe she did, and I just deleted them and forgot about them?" He settled back into the couch and rested his head on the back, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. "Maybe I've just hit my head too many times."

"I guess that's one explanation," Mel said slowly, absently picking her hook back up and then placing it back down. "Have you been having other memory issues?"

Cam shook his head slowly from side to side.

"No, not really... I have some trouble focusing, but you know, that's the norm," He smiled as they locked eyes, and Mel nodded, a grim smile on her face. He could vividly remember the way that she'd struggled to get him to sit at the kitchen table and work through his homework, and he felt guilt creep in, thinking about how difficult it must have been to have to try to understand a hyperactive child like he had been.

"So then what are some other ideas you might have?" She asked him as she picked her project back up, examining it closely to try and ascertain where she had left off.

"What do you mean?" Cam asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Like, what are some other explanations you can think of for why this might have happened?" She asked as she expertly dove back into her stitches, crocheting with quick, fluid movements that looked so subtle he didn't know what she actually did to get it to fit together so neatly. He had never been able to sit still long enough to pick it up -- unlike Anna.

"I don't know," He sighed, frustration creeping in as he suddenly felt like he was being led to a rationalization he hadn't yet figured out. He'd done it enough times, guiding his students to the correct answer through thinking out loud. He might as well play along if he had any hope of getting her to say whatever it was she was hinting at. "Maybe she messaged and called me somewhere that's not my phone number?"

"That seems easy enough to check," She answered, nodding her head toward his cellphone. Ah, true, he realized, and he quickly dove into the various apps on his phone, daunted by the sheer amount of "connection" focused apps that really just gave you another place to log in and forget about.

He'd gotten so lost in sorting through the various emails and messenger apps and social media and whatever else he could think of that people liked to use to chat these days that it was finally dark by the time he looked up from his phone. His father paused as he walked back into the living room with a fresh glass of iced tea, eyes locking with Cameron from over his phone.

"Hey kid."

"Hey Pops."

He walked past Cam and sat back down at the computer, keys clicking away once again.

"Did you find anything?" His mother side-eyed him from the end of the couch, and he shook his head at her, sitting up from the slumped position he'd sunken into as he scrolled and swiped through is phone.

"No, nothing... I mean, I guess the phone could have eaten the texts and stuff, but then why would it be working now? We were just texting a couple of days ago, no problem." He asked, brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to puzzle his way through.

"Do you think..." Mel paused, her hands suddenly still as she chewed on her bottom lip, before darting her eyes back to her son, her face apprehensive as she cleared her through before asking, "Is it possible that maybe they were deleted by.... someone that's... not you?"

"What?" Cam asked, cocking his head to look at his mother.

"Does anyone else have access to your phone?" She suggested, trying again to feign nonchalance, but it was the anyone else that suddenly called Cristina's face to Cameron's mind.

"Well, yeah, but-" Cam's tone was immediately defensive.

"I'm not saying anything. I'm just throwing ideas out there." Mel cut in, raising a hand to try and pacify her son before they wound up in an argument, too. Cam let out a heavy breath as he crossed his arms back over his chest, sinking further back into the couch.

"I guess if I... if I'm hypothesizing, then maybe it's possible that," He stopped, suddenly feeling a stab of guilt creep in, but he pushed through, nearly hissing her name as he continued, "Cristina could have deleted them."

"Do you really think she'd do that?" The question fell out of her mouth before she realized how dismissive it must have sounded -- she was just so flabbergasted by the idea, even though she herself had been somewhat pushing him to think in that direction. Cam even uttering the words almost felt like confirmation of what she'd suspected since he'd been home -- this marriage was probably over. "I'm sorry, I just mean that it's such a... mean-spirited thing to do."

Cameron almost burst into laughter at the words mean-spirited because it was such a simple small town and yet devastating way to describe someone -- but maybe also because it really felt like a fitting way to describe who Cristina had become over the course of their marriage.

Mean-spirited.

Could she really have stooped so low as to do something so abhorrent? Of course, he'd have to confront her, and what a horrible terrifying notion to consider. He would just as soon quietly pack his things while she was at work and simply serve her papers from afar. If this was something that she'd actually done, he didn't know if he'd ever even be able to look her in the face again.

"I don't know, Mom," Cam said honestly, pushing himself to his feet. "But thanks. You've given me a lot of stuff to think about. I'm gonna shower and head to bed, though."

He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head and mumbled goodnight as he dragged himself up the stairs and into a hot shower where he could stand and hopefully not think for a while.

[diejager]

I'm back with my guilty taste (not so guilty actually) stepdad! König and dbf! Horangi....I like to swim in deep and dangerous waters. I'm sorry.

¡Sí, padrastro! König hierve crudo cuando salimos con Horangi sin él... Lo puedo adivinar. Tenemos una pijamada/fiesta con un amigo, que realmente lo es, con el consentimiento de nuestra madre. Ella conoce a nuestro amigo, confía plenamente en él, sin ningún motivo para decir que no a querer pasar la noche en su casa. Incluso admite que con nuestro regreso haríamos una linda pareja, en comparación con König y Horangi.

I leave the idea there.

(Tiemblo de sólo imaginarlo, ¡Dam! No puedo tener suficiente, ayuda)

I’m gonna be honest with you, I had to use google translate for this and the translations were uh… going left and right, but I think I understood the gist of it. cw: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, rough sex, manhandling, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, blood kink, marking kink, wound, jealous stepdad!könig, tell me if I missed any.

König saw red when he heard that you were sleeping at a friend’s house, a boy’s house at that. Childhood friends, your mother told him, growing up together and having shared the same class until college when you went your separate ways while still keeping in touch since he lived right across the streets.

He knew the boy, he’d seen Kevin wave at your mother and you when he saw you, strutting up for a quick conversation; he’d heard Kevin talk to you on the phone and saw the smile growing on your lips and that bubbly laugh he wanted to own; and he’d seen you hang out with Kevin, waving him goodbye from your doorstep.

His blood boiled the whole night, making dinner with his wife awkward and his bedroom more heated, fucking up your mother with rough and mean sex, taking out a part of wrath on her until he had his hands on you.

He kissed his wife goodbye that morning, watching her limp out to her car and hiss as she sat down, but he didn’t feel guilty, anger still simmering under his skin. He waited for you in the living room, seating in the recliner that faced the door with his arms crossed and face scrunched up.

The moment he heard the knob turn, he surged forward, gripping you by the wrist and pulling you to your room, over the stairs and down the hall, shutting the door behind him loudly. He tore through the your clothes, ripping your panties with a shift of a hand and had you spread open for him. He was less than lenient with you, spitting on your hole and fingering you roughly, thick fingers pumping in and out of you and rolling your clit with his thumb.

He only did the minimum, stretching you out slightly so that you could feel every inch of him when he pushed in, wanting to hear whine and cry as he fucked you. He wasn’t teasing or playful like he usually was, in his haze of anger and jealousy, König was rough, domineering and mean. He split you in half on his cock, pounding into you with loud and hard thrusts, his balls slapping loudly against your slick-coated ass.

He had you folded in two, legs pressed to your chest, feet hanging off his shoulders as he towered you, his shadow looming menacingly over you. He bent forward, lips wrapping around your neck and shoulders, teeth biting into your skin, digging into your supple flesh and bleeding it, rivulets of ichor rolled down your fresh bite. He hissed and growled, spitting degrading insults, names, in your ear, relishing in the tears that fell from your lashes, sweet and salty drops that he lapped up with a bloody tongue.

He fucked you until he grew oversensitive, the leaky tip gushing ropes of cum inside you and his blood pumping through his bulging veins. He shuddered every time he came, watching your stomach bloat with his cock and cum, your pleasure painting a thick, white ring around the base of his shaft. Your room smelled of sex and sweat, your near unconscious form laying limp on the bed, fingers still grasping onto the sheets and legs spread over his elbow, eyes zoned to your heat.

“No more sleepovers, understood, Schatz?” Your stepfather growled, hand tilting your chin up to stare into his red-rimmed eyes.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[leclercsredhelmet]

Enchanted ✧ Franco Colapinto

A/N: Hello! Back with another blurb for you all, this time it’s Franco themed because I’m just so happy that one of my f2 faves is on the f1 grid! (I’m still so sad about Logan) anyways here’s Enchanted with a Hispanic reader! I hope you all enjoy reading this one <3

“These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you”

Being back in Italy has you buzzing with happiness, it’s been quite a few years since you’ve been back in the country. Yesterday you’d spent the day sightseeing and doing light shopping in Milan. This is your first big job opportunity fresh out of university and you’re extremely excited for what lies ahead. Once your alarm rang you leapt out of bed and opened the curtains. Music plays from the phone that sits atop the dresser, as you pass by the window you smile at the crowd of Tifosi chanting and you notice Charles signing their things. Smiling, you walk towards your suitcase and take out the outfit you had laid out last night.

Heading to the bathroom you change into a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a white and blue embroidered vest paired with your usual gold jewelry and white sneakers. Applying the last touch-ups to your makeup you grab your brown Longchamp bag and check that all the contents are there before grabbing your passes and the room key from the dresser. Locking the door you head towards the elevator. Looking around the hotel lobby you notice the flurry of staff getting ready to head out. You spot some drivers heading out and want to ask for pictures but you’re nervous and want to remain professional.

Briefly, you catch a glance of Franco Colapinto as he passes by in front of you and he offers a small smile once you lock eyes. Shyly you smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Noticing your phone is starting to ring, you pick it up. Your mother’s face greets you on the other line with a proud smile. Smiling you lift the phone to an appropriate angle so she can see your face.

“Hola mi amor, ¿qué tal te va el primer día de trabajo?” she asks and you smile.

(Hi my love, how is your first day of work going?) “Hola ma, muy bien hasta ahora, estoy esperando a mis compañeros para tomar la guagua al circuito” you reply.

(Hi mom, very good so far, I’m waiting for my coworkers to take the car to the circuit)

“Bueno espero que todo te vaya muy bien y voy a estar al pendiente de las redes a ver si te veo entrevistando a alguien!” she beams and you giggle.

(I hope it goes very well and I’ll be tuning into social media to see if you interview someone!)

“Oye y no has visto al chico de Argentina que sustituye a Sargeant? (Oh, have you seen the young man from Argentina that’s substituting Sargeant?)

“Acabo de ver a Franco hace algunos segundos, no hablamos pero me sonrió ,” you reply. (I just saw Franco a few seconds ago, we didn’t talk but he smiled at me)

“Esperemos que te toque entrevistar a Franco, se ve como un chico adorable y se que es de tus favoritos,” she says. (Let’s hope that you get to interview him, he seems like a charming young man and I know he’s one of your favorites)

Smiling you reply, “Eso espero mamá bueno te voy a dejar porque ya vienen los compañeros de trabajo, hablamos luego. Te amo!” you say. (I hope so, mom. I’ll have to leave you because my coworkers are arriving, we’ll talk later. I love you!) “Yo tambien amor, exito hoy!” (I love you too, good luck today!)

Putting your phone away you stand up and introduce yourself to the rest of the crew that hasn’t met you yet. Smiling, they start chatting with you as you walk towards the van that’s already waiting for everyone. Climbing in you take a seat by the window and adjust the passes around your neck, you run your thumb over the black and purple media pass supplied by Formula One and look at your picture and credentials before smiling. “The first day on the job is a little overwhelming but you’ll be fine,” one of your coworkers says. You smile, “Yeah it’s starting to feel like it,” you say with a little chuckle. Everyone smiles, “Lucky for you, we’re not leaving you to your own devices on the first day so the nerves will ease,” someone else reassures.

“It’s more like anxiety but thank you. I just want to be great at the job and have fun. It’s a little hard to believe this is happening and it’s not a dream,” you add with a little chuckle. “It’s pretty surreal but you’re going to enjoy it,” the woman says. “I’m Christine by the way,” she says, outstretching her hand for you to shake. Smiling, you shake it, “Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve seen you race in Dakar,” you reply. Quickly you fall into conversation with everyone and get to know them. Fans line the sides with merch and excitedly wave to every car that passes, there’s a lot of Tifosi and you smile.

“Are you hoping to meet any specific driver?” Roldán asks you. “Honestly mostly everyone but especially Charles, Lewis, and Franco,” you answer. “You should ask them for a signature or picture once you can, they’ll be happy to do it,” he says and you smile. Once the car parks you gather your things and leave the car. Adjusting your passes you walk with them and greet the workers in Italian.

Deciding to film such an important moment for you, you put an Airpod on and open Tiktok. Filming your feet heading towards the paddock, you pan up, show the entrance, and film the moment you scan your pass and walk in before capturing your reaction. Quickly you save the video and press play on one of your playlists. There’s press so of course some pictures of you are taken and you smile at the cameras. The nerves have eased significantly and now you’re just happy to be here. Picking up your pace you join Christine and Melissa and resume the previous conversation.

The paddock is quite busy but it’s all team staff, drivers, media, and other personnel. Given the news that broke earlier this week about Franco replacing Logan in Williams, everyone wants a shot at interviewing the young driver from Argentina. Making it into the media room you sit next to your coworkers and immediately begin to work. Sipping some water from your bottle you review your notes and wait for the assignments to be handed out. “And this next one is for Y/N, you have Franco in the media pen,” Melissa says. Feeling your cheeks flush, you smile and nod, “My very first interview with and it’s with one of my favorites this is crazy,” you comment and everyone chuckles.

Quickly you start to prepare by jotting down a few questions and getting into the work mode headspace. When it’s time to start heading to the paddock everyone filters out towards the media pen. At the media pen, you get settled with the in-ear monitors and microphone. Christine decides to film the moment which makes you chuckle and wave at the camera. “You got this, you look great” she encourages and you thank her. The drivers start to come out and you ask questions to a few such as Max Verstappen, Alex Albon, and George Russell. You spot Franco approaching you and you discreetly adjust your shirt.

“¡Hola, ¿qué tal Franco?” ”Soy Y/N y estoy con DAZN!” you say in your native language and he smiles. (Hi Franco, how are you? I’m Y/N and I'm with DAZN) “Hola, muy bien ¿y vos?” he replies smiling. (Hi, I’m very good and you?) You smile back, “Todo bien,” you reply. “Es un gusto conocerte, tenés un acento bonito, ¿de donde sos?” he asks. (It’s a pleasure to meet you, you have a pretty accent, where are you from?)

The question makes you blush a little and you chuckle, Franco smiles. “¡Puerto Rico!” you reply. “Ah! Muero por visitar, es un país muy bonito,” he replies. (I'm dying to visit, its' a pretty country)

“Lo es, bueno primero que nada ¿cómo te sientes al debutar en la fórmula uno?” you ask. (It is, first of all, how do you feel about your formula one debut?) “Gracias por la pregunta, estoy en una nube todavía, es una gran oportunidad y estoy muy feliz y emocionado” you smile at him and continue to ask questions. (Thank you for the question, I’m still on a cloud, it’s a great opportunity and I’m very happy and excited)

He’s been a little flirty but you chalk it up to be the Argentinian charm and once the interview ends you thank him again and he chats with you off-camera before going off. Being busy with work makes the day roll by and when it’s time to get some lunch you decide to go off on your own and join everyone else later. Heading out of the media room you walk around and pass the Ferrari motorhome, smiling you decide to take a picture of it and marvel at how amazing and fulfilling it feels to finally see all your hard work pay off.

The years away from home, while you studied to chase your dream, are finally paying off. It happens to be your lucky day because you spot Charles and Lewis walking. Politely you go over to them and ask for pictures and signatures, “You must be new, I haven’t seen you before,” Lewis comments. Smiling you nod, “Actually, I’m fresh out of university!” You beam and they smile kindly. “In that case welcome to the paddock Y/N,” Charles says. “Hopefully we see more of you in the media pen,” Lewis adds and you smile and nod. “Thank you both for the pictures, I can’t wait to see you both in red next year,” you say. Grinning, they bid goodbye to you and you head in search of food.

Spotting a stand making pasta you stand in line and once it’s your turn you order and pay. With your food in one hand and phone in the other you reply to some messages from friends. As you reply to the messages you lose sense of direction and collide against someone’s chest. Your phone, bag, and sadly your food all fall to the ground, and embarrassment floods over you since a few passersby witness the incident.

“Disculpame, no me di cuenta,” a familiar voice says. (Sorry, I wasn't aware) You lock eyes with Franco, “No, discúlpame tú, fue culpa mía. Estaba en el celular y no estaba al pendiente” you apologetically say. (No, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I was using my cellphone and wasn’t aware)

The young driver chuckles and bends down to help you pick up your things. His fingers brush yours as he hands you back your phone, “Escuchás a Taylor Swift?” he asks. (Do you listen to Taylor Swift?)

Smiling you nod, “Si, soy swiftie,” you say. (Yes, I’m a swiftie!)“¡Yo también! ¿Pudiste ir a algún recital?” he asks you. (Me too! Did you manage to go to a concert?)

“¡Si, fui a la última noche de Londres!” you reply. (Yes, I went to the last London show!) ¿Cómo te sentiste sin tener el anuncio de Reputation?” he asks with a laugh. (How did you feel about not getting the Reputation announcement?) Giggling, you adjust your bag, “Me sentí como toda una payasa,” you reply and he laughs. (I felt like a total clown)

Fran walks with you to a nearby bin and you toss the pasta and napkins. “Me siento re mal que perdiste toda tu comida por mi culpa, dejame comprarte otra,” he offers. (I feel so bad that you lost all your food because of me. Let me buy you another one.) “No, está bien no te preocupes,” you reply. (No it’s fine don’t worry)

“Por favor déjame hacerlo, me siento mal que ya en mi primer día acá accidentalmente le he tirado la comida a alguien al suelo,” he says. (Please let me do it, I feel bad that on my first day, I already dropped someone’s food by accident) You giggle, “Ay no te sientas mal, son los nervios del primer día,” you say. (Oh no, don’t feel bad, it’s the first-day jitters)

Franco chuckles in agreement, “Es tu primer día también?” he asks. (Is it your first day too?)“Ajá, me gradué hace unos meses,” you reply. (Mhm, I graduated a few months ago) “Felicitaciones, con más razón tengo que pagarte la comida,” he says and you laugh. (Congratulations, with all the more reason I should pay for your food)

Franco looks over at you and smiles, you smile back and tuck a rogue curl behind your ear. As you stand in line you chat and your stomach flutters every time you catch him looking at you. Both of you order food and he pays for your meals, walking back you’re careful to not drop it or bump into each other again. “Gracias por la comida pero probablemente debo ir a sala de medios,” you say as you start to walk away. (Thanks for the food, but I should probably head towards the media room)

Franco reaches for your hand and stops you, “Quizás esto es muy atrevido pero podés conmigo acá en el motorhome de Williams,” he pauses and looks at you. (Maybe this is a little too bold but you can eat with me at the Williams motorhome)

“Solo si quieres, si no pues esta bien,” he quickly adds. (But only if you want to) You smile at his sweet demeanor and he nods, “Okay, acepto la invitacion Colapinto,” you say and he laughs. (Okay, I accept the invitation Colapinto) “Franco por favor,” he sweetly says. (Franco, please) “Acepto la invitación, Franco,” you add and he laughs. (I accept the invitation, Franco)

Franco leads the way and you go up to the floor in the motorhome reserved for the staff and into his driver's room. “Bueno, almuerzo de primerizos entonces,” he says and you laugh. (Well then this is the lunch of first-timers) “Primerizos que se tropezaron en el paddock,” you joke and he laughs. (First-timers that stumbled upon each other in the paddock) You eat in comfortable silence and after you finish you talk and joke around. He’s made you laugh so much you started to cry and your stomach hurts.

“Me di cuenta de que tenés buen italiano, ¿viviste en Italia?” he asks. (I noticed that you have great Italian, did you live in Italy?) “Solo unos meses, hice un internado en Italia y regresé a España,” you say. (Just for a few months, I did an internship in Italy and returned to Spain) “También lo estudié un poco en secundaria y seguí practicando por mi propia cuenta,” you answer. (I also studied it in high school and kept practicing it)

“¿Cómo es que ambos somos tan parecidos ya?” he comments and you nod in agreement. (How is it that we already have so many similarities?) “Lastima que España es tan grande, si te hubiera conociera antes, habríamos salido o algo,” he adds and you blush. (It’s a shame that it’s so big, if we had met before we would’ve gone out or something) “Quizás hubiese sido una probabilidad,” you say with a little laugh. (Perhaps it could’ve been a probability)

You continue talking and decide to exchange numbers, Franco insists on walking you to the media room. Once you reach it he stops and turns to you, “Fue un placer Y/N, espero no volver a tirarte la comida,” he comments and you laugh. (It was a pleasure Y/N, I hope to not be the cause of you losing your food again)

“Bueno, pero si no pasaba entonces no hubiésemos tenido el almuerzo de primerizos juntos,” you reply attempting your best to flirt back. (But if it hadn’t happened we wouldn’t have eaten lunch together) He smiles, “Tenés razón, esperemos que no sea la última,” he says. (You’re right, let’s hope that it’s not our last time) “Hagamos algo, yo pago el almuerzo en la próxima semana de carrera,” you propose while stretching out your hand. (Let’s do something, I’ll pay for our lunch on the next race week)

Franco shakes it and little jolts run up your body, “Trato hecho, nos vemos pronto Y/N” he says. (It’s a deal, we’ll see each other soon Y/N) Hearing him say your name delicately makes you smile and blush, “Buena suerte mañana, se que vas a demostrar lo bueno que eres en pista,” you say. Franco blushes and gives you a friendly wink and hug before walking away. (Good luck tomorrow, I know you’re gonna prove just how good you are on track)

Blushing, you head inside and greet your coworkers, they notice your blush but don’t ask anything until Melissa points it out. You tell them a little about the encounter and continue to work until it’s time to go.

Once in the hotel room, you call your mom to debrief before showering and after you come out you find a text from Franco and decide to reply. This leads to you two talking for a few hours until you have to call it a night and get some much-needed rest for the hectic weekend that awaits you both.

You were absolutely enchanted to have met him after a slight mishap but it proved to be quite a turnaround.

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

[piristephes]

Prayer for the guidance of Hekate

Mãe Hécate, senhora das tochas brilhantes, Entoo o teu nome na encruza da vida e da morte, Convoco sua presença sabendo que auxilias todos. Hécate portadora de luz, rainha dos finados, É teu o caminho pelos reinos entrelaçados, Olha por teu devoto, como guiaste Deméter. Hécate das estradas, que fende o escuro, Orienta para a harmonia e virtude divina, Ergue minha mão, guia minh'alma pra luz sublime.

Hécate dos três caminhos, saúdo tuas faces! De como te mostra, céu, terra ou mares! Vem gentil hoje, com toque af��vel, e o coração, acalmes.

english:

Mother Hekate, lady of the bright torches, I chant your name at the crossroads of life and death, I summon your presence knowing that you help all.

Hekate, bearer of light, queen of the dead, Yours is the path through the intertwined realms, Watch over your devotee, as you guided Demeter.

Hekate of the roads, who cleaves the dark, Guide to harmony and virtue divine, Lift my hand, guide my soul to the sublime light.

Hekate of the three paths, I greet faces thine! As you show yourself, heaven, earth or seas! Come gently today, with soothing touch, calm my heart.

[tarjapearce]

Grandma's Visit.

Warnings: Drama, mild angst, Strained Relationships. Comfort towards the end. No proofread

Summary: Conchata wants to meet Benji.

A/N: There might not be updates, but have this little piece as an offer :')

Hey

Gabriel's leg bounced as the main door was closed, a bit of a slam on it. His hands immediately fetched his phone.

Migue

Busy right now.

Drop that shit and listen

?? ¿Qué pasó?  (What's wrong?)

Mamá va para allá, cabrón.

The fuck you mean she's on her way? Did you tell her where do I live?

Miguel, it's mom we're talking about.

The eldest O'Hara sighed and raked a hand over his hair. He was definitely not prepared for what laid ahead.

She wants to meet Benjamin.

Miguel's body tensed as his muscles flexed so tightly, one would think he'd break. And it wasn't far from the truth.

Conchata. Or Connie for her friends, was the ever annoying stone on his shoes. Miguel had refused to have her in his wedding. Not out of spite, rather for the  notion he had of his beloved progenitor. He knew that trouble followed her everywhere and if it wasn't following her like an overly attached stalker, is cause she was the problem itself.

Conchata was anything but easy to be around. And things had gone even more acrid after the wedding. Miguel never told you about the fourty five minute call she made him just to say how much of a bad son he was for not inviting her over.

But Miguel knew better, if he'd had her, she'd either complain about everything, ruining the mood for everyone. Or she'd start making snide comments on you and he'd get pissed, some drama would ensue causing an even bigger and jagged rift between them and his wedding would be ruined.

"Hey"

Your gentle and soft touch grounded him, anchored his mind back to his body, as his attention snapped back at you.

"You ok?"

His eyes felt tired and heavy. Unable to meet your gaze completely.

"I'll be."

You cradled him in your arms and kissed the top of his forehead. The touch alone melted him. His own arms embracing your shorter form, that somehow did the perfect work of comforting him and ease his thoughts. But when it came to his mother, little good things came out from it.

"My... eh-" He cleared his throat, "My mother is coming for a visit"

Oh...

"What she could possibly want after so many years?"

"Meet Benjamin."

Even though his words seemed simple, the clenching of his fists until his knuckles turned white, only dictated it was far from being that. Miguel didn't fear his mother, but feared and hated the words that could possibly escape her mouth when things weren't her way.

His wellbeing would be the sacrifice for the visit, cause he'd do anything possible to avoid you or his children get hurt.

"I swear, if she says or does something stupid-"

"Mi reina, let me handle her, ok?"

Your lips pursed and your brows deepened in a soft furrow.

"I won't hesitate-"

"I know. But please. Just, let me, ok?"

Both of you knew that things weren't going to be easy, his distress was obvious, he knew you'd step in if necessary, but he had to face her, it was more like a closure for him than anything. His baby boy wouldn't suffer the dooming and cursing words she gave him so many years ago. Words he learned to loathe as he grew up.

"Alright."

----

Maybe Gabriel's heads up was a false alarm, because nearly a week had gone by. A week of pent up stress and anxiety from both sides. And you could tell from Miguel's demeanor changing.

Even though being loving and a great father remained on the top list, you knew better than that. He'd been found asleep in his office after dinner, or would shut out himself for some little minutes. You'd give him space, and when he needed you, he'd always know where to find you.

He didn't even required to say 'I need you' cause you knew. His body language over the years had been a great subject of study, specially when it came to anxiety and other negatives that always switched on whenever his mother popped up in a conversation, or when something didn't sit right in his gut.

He'd pace, pick at the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood, chew at the insides of his cheek, drink alot of more coffee to keep himself awake, grumpier than usual, irritated, short replies for everything outside his beloved family.

With you he'd be clingier than usual, he'd spoil Gabi over to avoid thinking too much. He'd pour himself into being that amazing and loving parent he never had, but at night, he'd just hold you until he fell asleep. He'd clutch onto you so tightly that sometimes you'd have little bruises, barely visible ones, in the places he'd hold.

Your comfort skills poured into his preferred love language. Physical touch. You'd play with his hair until he fell asleep, a little purr coming from him before giving into sleep, you'd caress his back in soothing circles, letting the steady beating of your heart lull him to calm.

You'd kiss his face, showering him in affection, as if with every kiss a bit of his worries would go away.

The knock on the main door however interrupted his train of thoughts. You had gone to the supermarket to get some stuff you had forgotten for dinner. Relief washing over him as you now we're home, or so he innocently had thought. All air was caught in his throat upon seeing none other than Conchata on the front door.

Even for her age, Conchata had some beauty reserved. Her skin tone same as Miguel's, soft curls that lingered above her shoulders, deep brown eyes that if one looked close enough, would see the deep red in them. Tall and seizing him with a look he also learned to master.

A scowl disguised as a smile.

"Miguel. "

"Mamá."

A too common and long pleasantries shared between the both.

She hasn't aged much.

Miguel's mind chanted.

"You're gonna let me in to meet my grandson, or what?"

A bushy brow of his quirked, blasé and bored, but he stepped aside. His whole frame had curbed her for long enough.

Here we go

Her scrutinizing gaze was unstoppable against the nakedness of his home. Her eyes raked in every little detail out of place, loading her verbal ammo with it.

"Where is the baby?"

"Asleep."

Monotone and monosyllabic answers that matched his expression was all she could pry from him. It was ridiculous the amount of pictures you seemed to have about Gabriella. She saw her when she was two, then six. Staying in Miguel’s life wasn't something she actually liked to partake on. Too busy with her own demons and new boyfriends to care.

Why would she? He was already a grown ass man.

A man that refused to have her at his own wedding. A past resentment that has lasted over the years and her own mind had been feeding the fester inside her heart. It didn't help you had one of the wedding pictures scattered around the living room.

The few proofs she  needed to see, to know she wasn't welcome, but knowing her son had his own now, was another excuse to see what kind of man and father Miguel had turned out to be.

His arms crossed on his chest as she sat down in one of the seats in the couch.

"Come."

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"I'm trying to be civil. The least you can do is obey your mother for once."

"Why you came?"

"I told you. I need to see my grandson."

"Whatever for?"

Her eyes hardened at his words, but a sigh escaped her lips.

"God, you're so like your father. Always mistrusting people."

"You need to leave."

Hearing her say such curse, made his heart beat even faster. Hands clenched tightly at his sides. Eyes away from her, like if the mere sight of her brought back so many unpleasantness he had fought hard to work them through.

"I won't leave until your... woman shows up and throws me away."

"She will."

"Of course she will. You're not man enough. Just look at this place. A mess."

"And?"

Miguel knew that paying and baiting into her games, would only hinder so. many years of progress he had done on his own. But would also mean to give her the attention she desperately seeked, even if it meant to do it the wrong way.

"What do you mean, and?! What does she does around all day?" Conchata huffed, " In my times the wife was the one that kept everything in check. I've seen nothing but a mess so far."

"Sorry for that."

Your tired and irked voice echoed from the kitchen's door. Miguel gave you a little smirk.

"Have been busy being a real mother this whole time. Miguel, mi amor can you defrost some vegetables, please?"

"Sure do. Found everything?"

You both were purposely ignoring her. A silent yet powerful statement.

You have no power here.

Conchata's eyes set like stone into you. How dared a tiny flea like yourself to speak to her in such way?. And even worse, how could his son be lenient in allowing you to be disrespectful towards her?

You had entered quietly, the heavy and draining aura could be felt even from outside. You had told Gabi to wait outside and rearrange the groceries in the meantime.

" Oh, I didn't know you had returned."

Your name rolling off her tongue felt wrong.

" It's my house too."

"Ah, of course. You didn't do a pre-nup. Te va a dejar en la calle, Miguel." (She'll leave you bare)

Conchata's gaze never left you, it only turned even more intense as her pupils followed you every step.

"I came here to meet my grandson. Where is Gabriella? "

Said precious child helped you to get the bags from your car, while Conchata opened her arms for Gabi to cuddle her. But everything that came out was her hiding behind you, while looking between you and her, as if asking permission.

"Do you want to greet grandma, baby?"

Gabi only recoiled back, hiding further from you.

"Guess not."

You shrugged and instructed Gabi to go to her room, your eldest baby ignored her grandma.

"Muy chistosa tu mujer, enseñándole a mis nietos a irrespetarme ." (Your woman is so funny by teaching my grandkids to disrespect me.)

Miguel had to roll his eyes and stare at her boringly as he pulled out the vegetables and put them to thaw while you clenched your jaw by the sudden resented babbling that came from your mother in law.

"Where is Benjamin? I came here to see him. And I'm sure you'd love to have me here again."

"He'll be up in a minute. Would you like a a glass of water?"

Miguel offered but Conchata was already set in making you as uncomfortable as possible. And when Benjamin was brought in, rubbing his sleepy and baby face, looking for you, Conchata stood and took Benji from Miguel's arms. Holding him with such disingenuous affection it made Benji to reach for Miguel instantly.

You tensed, and so did Benjamin as Conchata admired him. If it wasn't for the skin tone matching Miguel’s, one would think that Benjamin wasn't his. Benjamin had your curls. And not Miguel's soft waves. Benjamin was the splitting image of you with a bit of Miguel's DNA painted in a few selected places. Like his eyes and height.

"I'm actually surprised you managed to pop out his children. Miguel is... big. Got it from his father."

"Didn't care much about that, ma'am."

"No se parece en nada a ti, Miguel. ¿Estás seguro que es tu hijo?" (He doesn't look like you. Are you sure he's your son?)

You didn't know what infuriated you more. The fact that she hinted that Benjamin wasn't his, a shallow and not so subtle hint at Miguel's past, or the pleased smirk her mouth turned into after spilling out the venom and seeing Miguel's discomfit grow.

Some people couldn't be helped. And Conchata truly couldn't help but love hurting her son. But you weren't having it. Not when Miguel's eyes turned away from her, not in hurt but in such anger that even you knew things wouldn't end up good for neither. And still, he regarded her with uninterested eyes.

His lack of engagement at her taunts, made her even more lashing. Like a little child that refused to have her whims met.

Even worse when Benjamin started to fuss and reach for him with a nervous cry. Even he felt odd and icky around her. You took Benjamin from her, cooing and soothing him, but he wanted Miguel. Who gladly took his precious baby, away from Connie. Inspecting him for any damage to finally kiss the top of his forehead, reassuringly.

You're safe.

"Si ya terminó de incomodarnos, creo que se puede ir, señora." (If you're done making us uncomfortable, you may go, ma'am.)

Her eyes widened at your spanish. It was clear that you had understood everything she had said, but were wise enough to not lose your temper, yet you fought back.

"Remind me to never visit you again, please."

"As if you ever do that. And no, it's not an invitation."

"Escúchame bien, chamaco ingrato-" (Listen to me you ungrateful brat)

"Ma'am."

You weren't one for yelling, but your voice was firm enough to have three pair of eyes set on you, Benjamin's fussing stopped. Conchata's lips turned into a scowl at your words.

"Thanks for your visit."

"You know, you could've settled for something better-"

"Así estoy bien, gracias. Now, if you excuse us, We've got dinner to make. The door is right there." (Im just fine. Thanks)

She left with a slam that had Benjamin cry out of the jumpscare.

Miguel hushed and rubbed his baby's back in little circles to keep him calm before giving his pacifier.

" You ok? "

Your hand squeezed Miguel's for a moment while he kissed your temple gratefully.

" Yeah. She's gone. That's why exactly I didn't invite her to the wedding or meeting you."

"It's alright. God... she's-"

"Annoying. I know. Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Nah. I'm glad you taught me cause, damn... Her face upon hearing me speaking it, was priceless. And just for you to know, I was about to explain how we almost made Benji on the car."

Miguel snorted and nodded, knowing you would. You had each other's back and that wasn't up for discussion.

" Te amo."

You mumbled in his ear before stealing a kiss from his lips.

" También te amo."

[dogbites-puppylove]

Hello! I hope you're well.

Can you do a Damian Wayne x Male reader oneshot? Based on the song "Stacy's Brother" by Mad Tsai.

Damian finds out that Male reader is the little brother of [Big! Sister].

Then Damian decides to approach [Big! Sister], in jobs, projects, etc. All this to get closer to Male reader.

Maybe a sporty, extroverted and clumsy Male reader?

I can't get it out of my head that Male reader is somewhat nervous about being around Damian due to Damian's personality and the fact that he is taller than M!r doesn't help.

Also, Can I be anon 🛸?

Male! Reader x Damian

TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)

Tags: Yandere! Damian Wayne x Reader

Solitude is preferable to irritants for Damian, so to prove useful enough to be a contact of his is difficult. He’s an heir first and a human second,this is fact, every thought he has is spent towards a goal, and every goal to another's gain - this is the natural state of his operations. Much like a king's pristine puppet he is a glorified prize that must maintain itself. If he meets his darling through a sister or really any family member not of his own, the darling has no backing to stand. Simply and utterly he is beneath nothing to Damian - and maybe that's how he got trapped. 

Contacts from his mother provide lethal abilities, contacts from his father are useful and cut throat -expectation and criteria create his world brick by brick - everything has its place of necessity. A contact form outside this world is easy to push off - it's useless and creates nothing but problems for him - but his Darlings sister is needed and to maintain relations he must come to know Darling - so he takes to this as a bat. The Darling is a lesion, a bleeding pus addled wound in his world of rules and he must get you to heal - it's a clinical and medical perspective. He is his own greatest triumph and Darling are the termites that are picking at his puppet strings. 

Diagnosis comes from close observation- and he needs to be perfect to complete his tasks. You are stalked and detailed without mercy - without decorum, for the first few months you aren't even human. Damian takes a while stalking him, perching on the ceiling and staring through windows - devouring every image with curiosity. Like a dog lapping at its bleeding wounds - Damian tends to him with hypothesis and obsessiveness  - laving over him with his tongue until he’s all that he can taste. Every detail is crucial - every twitch of his muscle under his skin and every time his drops of drool on his pillow in the throes of the Darlings sleep. 

It begins with details and ends with praises and reverent prayers - what used to be details of something he needed to heal became the height of his worship. Damian slips from the king's grasp and becomes a tumbling mess of flash and singing blood  - the para social relationship nurses itself into an infection. 

Sporty? Good, keeping himself in shape is the least of the training that his Darling needs to do in order to stay safe in Damian’s own shadows. Not to say he’d ever let anything touch his darling but it's crucial to keep him in good shape. Paranoia runs in his blood - it's how survival is formed, it's passed on heirloom. 

Extroversion is hardly a trait he is foreign to - in fact it's perfect that his Darling seems to seek out others in social situations. As his other half, his humanity given flesh - it's obvious he would have the skills to express it. 

So what if he’s clumsy? It's simply the innocence of untarnished life showing through - Damian has none left - not even in the hollows of his bones - but his darling can make up for it. To him it's an even trade - like heaven and hell to the spirits that pass. 

After sufficiently gathering all he can from the window - it's only so long before he reaches in. He needs you - from the wound is born an infestation and Damian is sick with it - it fills his orifices and body and mind until Darling infect his brain. He won’t blame you for it - how could he - but you’ll have to take responsibility. 

Your sister is a means to an end - from the beginning of her contact to the time he uses her as a ticket into your life. He blows up her phone, her email, her everything - it's intensive and consuming and he won’t stop even if she answers. He needs you awfully, horribly to the point he might bleed out if he doesn't have his hand on your skin. She tries once to pull away - for her youngest brother's sake - she wakes up with a katana and a whispered warning to her ear. She does not try again. Sometimes you can see her eyeing you from the other side of the room with something like an apology on her face. 

Sharing a gender orientation gives him easier access to you - into bathrooms, locker rooms, and a sort of social intimacy that society gives leeway. It's not overly suspicious as he leaves an arm on you - seeks you out - it's what friends do. You're both boys so there's nothing to be shy about Darling. 

Of course he makes you nervous - ha can’t blame you - he's a trained assassin and you're all but a civilian but he’d never harm you. Never dream of it, even, to harm you would be his death. But it doesn't stop his eyes that are far too familiar for a stranger, nor the offsetting way he accommodates you so easily - as if he knows you better than yourself. As if he’s a worm in your brain and was wriggled so far it's made its home - a parasite. It sets you on edge - pulls at your skin until your organs and bones and he still needs to go deeper. 

Author's Note: Hi anon! I don’t actually have a cohesive list of anons but if you want to identify yourself with emojis i'm all for it :)). Also - my writing in general doesn’t incorporate gender a lot but I hope this is ok. 

[all444miles]

hi this is my first time requesting! can you do e42 miles and his girlfriend on her quinceañera please and ty <3

— PRINCESA

pairing: earth 42!miles x fem!afro-hispanic!reader genre: fluff summary: it's your quince, your big day, and your boyfriend is right there with you, dancing with you (and shi, he can dance) reveling in your beauty ‹3 a/n: this is your first time requesting? this is my first request, so, im honored!! this was acc like, really fun to write 😭 the fact this isnt even long but i still took so long is SILLYY, im rlly rlly sorry for that.. + if these translations r wrong PLEAAASEEE CORRECT ME bc ion wanna mess up on this at all

a/n 2: anything underlined with probably have a link to give you a ref to wtv the context is, (e.g, your makeup), the nails, dress, n bouqet are in the three pics above!! also, the large spaces between paragraphs is js basically a lil skip to the next part (like the entrance to the last doll !) please do listen to the song shown in the fic when the waltz happens to feel how the reader did, n i tried my best to describe what was happening but this quince vals kinda shows it best, js imagine more men around em n the start of this for the surprise dance, i think its called wepa? (MILES HAS A COWBOY HAT ON AGGGHHGHH) 😭 enjoy!

It was your day. the day you turned 15, the day you transitioned from girlhood to womanhood, and God, you were estatic. It was all planned perfectly.

You were outside the hall, and it was time for your entrance. Your mother and Rio were adding the finishing touches to your hair, while your lover carefully put on your necklace for you, as you didn’t want to mess up your nails. He paid for them, after all.

“Mi amor, you look like proper royalty right now, y’know that?” he says to you, making your heart feel warm as he speaks. You smile at him, “Thank you, Miles. Ma, are you sure everything is gonna go okay?” you look at your mother with slight concern, fidgeting with your fingers. “¡Cálma, cielo! Te ves goregous, y me he asegurado de que todo salga perfecto, ¿de acuerdo?” (take it easy, angel! You look gorgeous, and i’ve made sure everything goes perfectly fine, alright?). You nodded your head, as Rio motioned you to take two deep breaths, Miles chuckling in amusement.

Your father stepped in and announced, “Es hora princesa, ¿estás lista?” (it’s time princess, are you ready?). You smiled, your nervousness fading and your excitement overtaking as you quickly fixed your dress. “Mhm!” And with that, you walked into the court as Lo que paso, paso by Daddy Yankee played, your left hand in your mothers and your right in your fathers, as four of your cousins, as your chambelanes, (including Miles, the chambelan de honor), danced behind you as the three of you danced into the court, the MC announcing your arrival.

You sat down on your “throne” as your little sister came up to you, twirling before stopping to face you and handed you your last doll, a smile on her face. “Gracias, hermanita” (Thank you, baby sister) you whispered to her as you kissed her forehead and she hugged you, giggling before walking off back to your mother.

After your crowning, changing of shoes and your father daughter dance, it was time to do your waltz. The setting faded as a light shon on you and Miles, a smirk on his face, Golden Hour by JVKE playing in as your chambelanes moved around you two.

She’s got glitter for skin, my radiant beam in the night..

Your boyfriend had your hand in his, close to eachother, a loving smile imprinted on the both of your faces. “Ya sabes, cariño, puedes bailar bastante bien.” (You know, baby, you can dance pretty well.)” He chuckled and slightly put his head down and shook his head, “Por supuesto que puedo, ma, lo aprendí de y para mejor.” (Course I can, ma, I learnt from and for the best.)

As the incoming line came in, Miles spun you three times, then your primos (cousins) and your boyfriend circled around you before lifting you up and spinning you, your dress flowing.

It’s your golden hour..

A grin from ear to ear, you watched everybody around you looking up at you astonishment as you spun, hearing cheers from your aunties and your mother (Rio included). They put you down, as the song continued, your chambelanes on one knee around you, you in the middle taking a curtsy, before continuing your dance.

The song faded, it had ended, but it was time for your surprise dance. The loud blasts of el mariachi and fizzing of the indoor pyrotechnics could be heard from every angle of the room; the boys on stage as you stood back till it your signal to come in.

Your primos and Miles’ stomps echoed through the court—holding onto their hats as their body’s moved, to the flow of the music. Miles was actually better than you expected at this, and he looked quite fine with that hat on too, you thought. You heard whistles coming from your tios, and a small shout of encouragement from Rio to her son, which make you chuckle. She patted your back and motioned you to step in.

You walked into the middle as the boys stepped back, sprinkling roses onto you as you spread out your arms. As you stepped in and stepped out, Miles on one knee as you circled around him, your cousins stomping once again to the beat of the sound. He stood up as you held your dress to dance along with them, them picking you up one last time, earning trills and cheers from the people sitting down.

The very last song came in, and it was just you and Miles, dancing cumbia together, your cousins stepped back hyping you two up. You kicked forward as he kicked back, you two dancing in pure sync, the whole court cheering your names while you two tried to hide your laughs. It was one of the best nights of your life, a smile on everybody’s face the entire time.

At the end of your quince, you and Miles were talking in a corner. You looked up at him, pupils dilated “Te ves muy guapo con ese sombrero puesto.” (You look pretty handsome with that hat on.)

He laughed to himself, shaking his head. “Oh, word? Aight, i’ll keep it on then.” You pressed your forehead with his, “Gracias por hacer que esta noche sea tan divertida para mí, cariño.” (Thank you for making this night so fun for me, baby). He kissed your forehead, “No hay nada que agradecerme, mi reina, fue muy divertido ser promocionado por tus primos.” (There is nothing to thank me, my queen, it was a lotta fun to be cheered on by your cousins.)

He planted a kiss to your lips, “I love you, mami.”

“You know I love you too.”

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[gutsondisplay]

"go tell your parents that your transID!"

My mother just admitted she wish she was thai, not to mention she already knows I'm in this community

"go to a therapist!"

I have one, they see nothing wrong with how I identify nor are they concerned about my para's

"no one irl would be your friend"

I would argue I have too many friends, and yes they know I'm transID + my para's (and they aren't even radqueer)

"well what about your partners huh?"

My partners are also radqueer / adjacent, also have para's, and transIDs

"go touch grass!"

Oh go outside? Like this?

"you just wanna fetishize minorities!"

Oh no, I am *bodily* a minority. I am Jewish, black, and I am disabled

That's a metal bar and screw in my leg, that will never come out and it's the only way I can walk, it hurts like a bitch daily

"you wanna minimize harm!"

I come from a family who was jewish in Poland during WW2, and I myself was trafficked when I was younger. I out of anyone don't wanna minimize harm, I want people to understand what harm is and give autonomy to everyone, and autonomy sometimes means letting people hurt themselves if they really want that, they understand what they want more than you do.

"You wanna hurt others!"

You cannot prove a negative, only a positive, come back to me about the harm I specifically caused when you get proof.

So, any anti stalking, I encourage you to give me a genuine argument for your side

[veinsfullofstars]

for your childhood friends au, do the kids have any favorite foods?

Ooooh, okay okay, so this is something I’ve actually given a fair bit of thought to (maybe too much thought given how long this thing got, haha). I love little details like this in character writing - it makes them feel so much more alive and well-rounded, y'know? The kiddos have preferences as varied as their personalities, and I’m just itching to get into it, so… let’s get into it! (Also, just to be clear, I did pull some of my food headcanons for MK and DDD specifically from source material and the wiki, but most of this kinda just comes right off the dome.)

When it comes to food, Para Dee is probably the most milquetoast of the bunch (though that’s hardly a bad thing). Neither a voracious eater like Dedede nor an avoidant one like Meta, he enjoys food about as much as the average Waddle Dee, more than fine with his three square meals a day (maybe a snack if he’s good). His tastes primarily lean towards savory or bitter flavors, anything from a warm bowl of stew to a nice crisp salad depending on his mood (meaning that, of the four of them, he’s the most likely to eat his veggies... and enjoy them). He’s not the biggest fan of sweets (probably due to that fact that his father is a baker and routinely saturates their home with the heavy scents of vanilla and mixed fruit), but he does have a soft spot floral teas and hot chocolate, especially during the colder seasons. He doesn’t mind sour flavors in small amounts (meaning if someone gets pickles with their meal, you know they’re going onto Para’s plate), but spicy foods? Forget about it. His poor little stomach has no tolerance for spice, to the point where even a little too much pepper has him breaking out in a sweat (something Bow teases him about mercilessly).

If you asked him what his absolute favorite food is, he’d have a hard time choosing... but he'd probably say his father’s caramelized onion soup, a much-beloved dish at their dinner table and a favorite at every community potluck. It’s never quite the same when Para makes it (many years into the future with a family of his own), but it still sparks warm memories of holidays and togetherness with each cheese-laden spoonful.

Then, on the opposite side of the spectrum, we have Bow Dee, our tiny terror with a metabolism and appetite to rival those of her bigger buddies. If left alone and unoccupied for too long, she’s been known to sneak into locked pantries or climb high, off-limits shelves looking for any snacks she can get her grubby little mitts on (a habit she probably learned from watching Dedede). That said, she can be rather picky about which foods she’ll scarf down, especially in her youth when she would literally pick through her meals for the bits she liked and ignore the rest (much to her mothers’ chagrin).

If asked about her favorites, she’d say she likes protein-packed foods the most (omelets, jerky, trail mix, whatever will fuel those boundless energy reserves of hers in the saltiest, most flavorful manner possible) but refuses to touch veggies, pickles, and bitter flavors in general (at least in her childhood, growing a little more adventurous about food during their time overstars). She likes sweets as much as the average high-energy kid, partial to citrus fruits and sour candies especially (she likes how it stings a bit when you eat it, almost like it's fighting back). And, beyond all that, Bow loves spicy foods. Full stop. If it ain’t spicy - or spicy enough - she’ll find a way to make it so. Chili flakes, hot sauce, whole peppers, whatever she has on hand - it’s going in there, and Nova help anyone who tries to stop her. A bit ironic given her natural affinity for Water, though maybe that’s what gives her such a high tolerance for capsaicin. Or maybe she’s just that badass (as she likes to brag to her buddies, watching them steam out the ears from a single jalapeño while she’s already chomped down seven). And before you ask, yes, this has landed her in village clinic on more than one occasion. High tolerance or no, she definitely does not have Dedede’s cast-iron stomach… or Meta’s self-restraint. (We don’t talk about the Ghost Pepper Fiasco.)

Speaking of picky eaters, Meta has a… complicated relationship with food. He’s never had much of an appetite, often going (unsettlingly long) stretches of time without feeling the need to eat, only doing so if someone reminds him to (or if he gets too woozy, whichever comes first). He does need to eat, of course… just not nearly as often as everyone else does, it would seem (a byproduct of his peculiar biology, perhaps?). It’s an excuse he’s used often to get away with skipping meals, sometimes substituting in lighter foods like breakfast bars or Energy Drinks to keep his strength up (though this is hardly a long-term solution). He also finds certain textures and tastes difficult to deal with, even turning down entire meals if just one bite feels off. It makes eating with company - already an awkward experience thanks to his introversion - that much more uncomfortable, sitting there with a full plate while everyone else chews and chatters around him, wishing he could disappear as swiftly as his hunger (a habit that still crops up even in adulthood, though he has learned to push through it for the sake of politeness). Honestly, he could write a whole dissertation on how the act of consumption is a burden upon the living and no one should be subjected to it… and then he remembers chocolate exists and takes it all back for a while.

That’s really the one exception to his food trepidation: sweets. Perhaps it comes from living in Dream Land where sugary foods are so plentiful, the forests rich with apples and berries, the scent of pies and pastries wafting from windowsills, even the lands themselves named after foods of all sorts. Or perhaps it stems from his earliest memories, a helping hand and a bar of something indescribably sweet and rich, the first he’d ever tasted… Whatever the case, it’s stuck with him, a livelong love of sweets and sweet-adjacent foods, one that narrows, refines, and changes over time into preferences for chocolate, coffee, and other foods with light but flavorful consistencies. Not that this stops his friends (and later his crewmates) from hounding him into eating more nutritious meals once in a while, too. It's frustrating, but he knows they mean well, and he gets better about listening to their advice with time.

And finally, whipping to the other side of the scale once more, it’s Dedede, the penguin equivalent of a vacuum, willing to eat literally anything you put in front of him (including things you probably should not eat). He wouldn’t say he has many strong preferences - all food is good food in his eyes - though he does appreciate a good bone-in steak or similarly hearty dishes like seafood or pasta, and he could never pass up a nice rich dessert (especially cakes).

More than the taste, though, it’s really the act of eating - a pastime even more beloved than sparring or sleeping - that brings Dedede comfort, whether it’s through cozy communal meals with neighbors, the thrill of food-based competitions with friends (ones that will later inspire Dream Land’s famous Gourmet Races), or just to deal with the boredom (and loneliness) when he’s stuck on his own. It’s possible he gets this behavior from his mama, a little on the heavier side herself and known for her own cast-iron constitution back in her wrestling days (not to mention prone to spoiling her “darlin’ baby bird” and his friends with extra treats all the time). Meanwhile, his papa - a stickler for decency and discipline - is constantly reminding his son to slow down during meal times, wondering if he’s even tasting the food he’s shoving down his gullet (a blunt but well-intentioned criticism given the many, many tummy troubles Dedede suffers in his younger days). He never manages to fully tame his massive appetite (certainly not helped by the more decadent lifestyle he later adopts as a king), but he does at least refine it over time, learning from Para of all people about the joys of savoring meals rather than always inhaling them outright.

Phew, alright, I think that’s about it. Thanks for the question! Hopefully I didn't go too in-depth for such a simple one - I was having fun with it and might've gotten carried away again, haha. Well, at the very least, it'll give you guys some nuggets to chew on in the meantime (pun super not intended).

Sketches started 06/25/24, finished 06/27/24.

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Home (Camila Montes X Reader)

“Get Out!”

You were tossed on the small lawn in front of your house, your father standing above you seething and throwing a suitcase next to you clothes scattered everywhere.

“Where am I supposed to go?”

A car slowly came to a stop as a familiar face from school peaked at you.

Your tears were endless as you looked to your mom for help. She simply shook her head stepping back into the house, before she came back out your journal clutched tight in her hands. You glanced at the book and her, eyes widening in mortification at what she could’ve read. Your deepest thoughts were laid bare in that book: every good day, bad day, significant event, such as you realizing your crush on your long time best friend and many others to follow. You wondered why you’d get so upset when they’d discussed their crushes on boys or when they’d talk about first kisses.

“Mom..” you spoke shakily a hand raised and before you knew it that same hand smacked you. Leaving behind a sharp sting. Her eyes were watering as if she were the one in pain.

“We won’t have you in our house with these disgusting thoughts.”

She tossed the book at you and went back inside her husband following. You sniffled calmly picking up your clothes and throwing them in your suitcase.

“Mija que esta sucediendo?”

“Espera mama.”

Platform boots came into your line of vision and you found yourself looking up into the brown eyes of your classmate.

Camila Montes was notorious for her explosive attitude.

She’d sent a boy to the hospital just because he was staring at her on her first day.

To see her standing before you at the moment worried you. According to most that knew her, (not any friends she didn’t do friends) she was a “cold hearted bitch”.

“You good?”

You gulp trying to fight back more tears as you nod beginning to scramble quickly when you hear another noise come from your home. No, not your home anymore your mother and father made sure the whole neighborhood knew this.

Camilas dark eyes glanced to the house, her car and then you. Her mother watching with interest as she knew her daughter had a tendency to keep to herself. She felt a smile form when she watched as the teenager helped pick up your clothes.

“What happened?” Her voice was gruff as if she were trying not to yell.

“I uh..” you took a deep breath. “I just got kicked out of my house.”

The girls eyebrows furrowed she knew better than to ask anything else, everyone had seen exactly what happened. She picked up the suitcase and tilted her head towards her car.

“Come on.” You stood quickly confused as she took your suitcase to her car placing it in the back seat. You sat down quietly as the older woman began to speak.

“Quien es?”

“Y/n mami”

Camilas eyes shift to yours through the rear view mirror. You sat quietly confused as to why she was telling your mother your name and how she knew it.

“Ella necesita un lugar para quedarse”

Before you knew it, you were bought to a small house Camila going around to assist her mother. You stood by the car unsure of what to do making the girl roll her eyes.

“Come on I already have my hands full, I don’t have time to hold yours.”

You follow and help her get her mom sat down on the sofa in the living room.

“Gracias Nina linda.” She patted your cheek eyes closing as she went to put her head back and rest a moment.

“She said thank you pretty girl.”

You jump forgetting she was there with you.

“You can put your stuff in my room, and sleep on the futon,” she turned abruptly looking up to you slightly finger raised.

“But don’t touch my shit you’re not special.”

You nod following and placing your suitcase to the side. You went to take a shower.

Camila waited until she was sure you were in the bathroom to snoop through your wallet she’d opened it to find your ID, a few bills, and a small picture of an older woman with a young girl sitting on her lap. She looked closer at the date squinting before she looked at her phone.

When she heard the shower shut off she put everything back where it was and went to tend to her mother.

“Mami?” Her mom snored from her spot making the girl smile a bit, she kissed her forehead placing the blanket over her.

After you showered and gotten dressed you followed the path to the kitchen smelling food. You were surprised to find Camila standing by a few containers of food and a small box.

“They didn’t have a lot of options since it’s late but..” painted nails pulled back the lid and revealed a small cake. You looked to the girl surprised.

“How did you-“ She scoffed.

“You’re seriously gonna ask questions right now?” You gulp nodding and sit down the both of you eating in comfortable silence. Camilas mom walking in with a cane.

“Mami-“ the older woman cut her off with a wave of her hand before she lit a candle and placed it on the cake as she began to sing

“Cumpleanos Feliz”

.

.

You’d been at Camilas for a few months. Her mother adored you and was determined to teach you Spanish, Camila herself was a lot nicer than she was at school. Still stoic most times but she was helpful and considerate without thought. She had gotten you a job at the bodega and helped make the futon more comfortable, it almost felt like home.

Her mother would sometimes speak a lot faster in Spanish whenever Camila was around smirking each time her daughter would dismiss her or change the subject.

“What Camila it’s true are you really going to defend that Fag-“ the sound of a body being slammed to the lockers.

“If I were you I’d shut the fuck up.” You ran to see a crowd forming in the hallway, Camila holding your old “friend” Gabby against the locker. You cautiously walked up placing a hand on Camilas shoulder.

“Camila come on I don’t want you to get in trouble.” The other girl laughed.

“Is that why you’re defending her?” She turned her head to you. “News flash Camilas just a hopped up slut who’ll-“

Everyone gasped at the sound of a punch being landed but it wasn’t Camilas hand it was your.

“Oh shit.” You whimpered shaking your hand. You didn’t mean to punch her but you didn’t like how she was talking to Camila, she wasn’t a slut she was nice and took you in when you needed help without question.

You were in the nurses office getting your hand wrapped as Camila sat nearby. Luckily Gabby was also 18 and there were witnesses that stated she instigated the fight, the principal decided detention after school would be the best punishment for you.

Camila stood up to look at your hand. Her dark eye liner making her brown eyes even deeper somehow.

“I could’ve handled it.”

You shrug.

“You’re not a slut, even if you sleep with everyone in town that’s your business.”

“I haven’t, that rumor started because I was stupid enough to sleep with ONE guy after I broke up with my girlfriend.” You nod.

“Kind of makes me feel better not liking men.” You joke weakly. The girl smiles slightly at you nudging your shoulder.

“I’ll see you later yeah?”

You got back to Camilas late, her mom on the couch watching some new telenovela.

Camila already filled her in that you’d be late.

“Tu comida esta en la estufa.”

“Gracias senora Montes.” She smiled happy you were learning but quickly frowned.

“Solo llamame mama o mami por favor.” Your eyebrows furrowed you knew parts of what she said but not all of it.

“SHE SAID CALL HER MAMI OR MAMA!” You nod.

“Mama.” She smiles patting your cheek and shooing you to the kitchen.

Camila sat at the table eating a plate already ready in front of her.

“Thank you.” You said softly sitting across from her.

“QUE?!” Her mom yelled. You both laugh.

“Gracias Camila.” Her mom cheered going back to her show as the two of you ate in silence.

It was late for some reason and you couldn’t sleep.

And apparently neither could Camila.

“Y/n?” She whispered.

“Yeah?” A soft hand grabbed yours making you sit up as you were dragged to her room.

She shut the door behind you gesturing towards her bed.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” She shook her head one of her hands inching towards yours.

Your eyes scanned her head to toe. Her usual make up gone nothing but freckles and fair skin covered by a giant t-shirt.

Her hand slowly made its way to your shoulder making you shiver.

Dark eyes searched yours before leaning in.

“GET DOWN!”

“Y/N!” There was glass everywhere a sharp sensation on the back of your skull.

“Y/N!” You struggled against the strong body against you as you watched Camila kick and scream. Her mothers voice also ringing out in the distance.

.

.

.

“So I either go to the nursing home or go to jail for being an accomplice to an accomplice to an “illegal” immigrant?”

You tilted your head at the lawyer who hummed.

“I know it’s hard but if you cooperate you’ll free not only Camila but her mother as well.” You bit your lip looking at the pamphlet. You owed them everything, working with the elderly was the least you could do.

“Ok I’ll do it.”

After a series of questions and a long drive in a school bus, you’d finally made it to the nursing home. Next to you a curly haired girl with glasses.

“I’m Lily.” She whispered.

“Y/n.” You whispered back offering a small smile, it dropping as a man in the corner looks to you intently. “Is it just me or is that guy staring?”

Lily subtly looks around the room before her eyes land on James. “No girl he’s staring at you real hard, be careful.”

You nod.

It feels almost like prison with how the cycle works. You eat, work, sleep and repeat. For some reason you’re the only one who can remember going to bed and what day it is. The other three besides Lily really don’t talk much. James seems to be nice though always having you help with simpler tasks and even bringing you things that only the staff have access to.

You try to take comfort in seeing some kindness here but you find yourself constantly missing a certain brunette wondering if she’s ok and if she was going to do what you thought she was that night in her room. You look to see Lily being taken somewhere and go to follow only to be stopped once again by James.

“You should get back to the garden, the new groups coming in and we need the hall cleared for the tour.” You nod as he puts his arm around your shoulder leading you away.

Camila steps off the bus and into the building eyes scowling at everything in sight until they widen at the sight of familiar hair.

“Y/n?” She goes to walk towards you but is quickly stopped by another guard. He points back to the group and moves them further into the hall.

It’s when you get to the garden and look around you see none of your group with you. Shyly you ask James if he knew anything of this but the man just redirects your attention to another task at hand. It’s when his walkie talkie goes off that there’s an issue in the cafeteria that runs him off. You looked down seeing a flash of silver smiling, you make sure no one notices by pretending to tie your shoe.

It’s late, it smells weird and Camilas pretty sure some of the old people next door are getting freaky either that or dying, she rolls her eyes to herself. She can’t sleep as she thinks of you and her mother, praying you’re both safe. The group she came with, misfits at best, weren’t horrible. Micah seemed decent she supposed, JP obviously having the biggest hard on for her, Chris was a pussy and Big Mac was just an idiot, an entertaining idiot but still an idiot.

A quiet knock shook her from her thoughts and she almost stayed in her bed until she heard it again. She got up to toeing to the door swinging it open.

“Y/n?” A small smile makes it way to your face as you look at her in the shorts and tank top provided by the facility.

“Cam-“ your relief was short lived as your dragged into the room. You’re pulled into the room abruptly by the collar of your shirt.

“What are you doing here?” You both ask at the same time.

You laugh softly. “They told me if I cooperated that they’d let you and your mom go.”

She scowled crossing her arms. “They told me the same thing.”

“I’m glad you’re ok though.” The shorter girls eyes softened as she uncrossed her arms. “I was worried about you.”

Dark brown eyes continued to stare at you and you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

“How’d you find me?”

“Would you believe me if I said I went knocking on every door down this hallway?” Camila continued to stare at you as you rubbed the back of your neck.

She stepped closer to you. “So you turned yourself in for a girl you met a few months ago, risked getting caught sneaking around to find her in the same place not knowing what might happen after?”

You flush a bit. “Well when you say it like that it sounds crazy.”

She deadpans. “It is.”

You laugh. Damn I missed her. A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. Those same brown eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back again. Unconsciously, you both lean in, you dipping slightly to help her reach. Soft plush lips press to yours softly at first before they grow in intensity. Short black fingernails dig into your shoulders as you place yours around her waist, hands grazing the exposed skin eliciting a soft moan. You feel yourself stumble as you’re pulled more towards the bed, Camilas hand reaching back until she feels the soft surface.

She turns pushing you on the bed aggressively. The mattress spring making you bounce a bit. She wastes no time climbing on your lap as you sit up, hands greedy to feel more of her as they travel up her back. Hers tugging your hair as your lips slide against one another. It’s when her tongue licks your lips begging for entry that your breath hitches. You both groan when there’s another knock on her door she signals for you to stay as she goes to answer.

JP stands at the door smile on his face as he wiggles his keys.

“Employee swim?”

Camila tilts her head. “Didn’t take you for the bad boy type…” she pauses “I wonder why or should I say who?” She quirks an eyebrow.

The boy sputters.

“I’m just kidding bro, I get it. She’s hot if she were into girls I’d hit that.”

You felt yourself slowly start to stand up. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea you winced.

“Then again maybe I could change her mind.”

Definitely a bad idea. You look around to see if there’s another way out of her room but sigh when you see it’s only the door you sit at the desk and wait.

You hear more laughter before the door closes. You stand as Camila makes her way back to the bed.

“So where-“

“I think I should go.” Her eyebrows furrow.

“Wait what I thought-“ You quickly make your way to the door.

“Yeah I’m tired anyway but it was good seeing you.” The door slams shut making Camila huff.

What the fuck just happened?

As you make your way back you see Micah following JP and Big Mac to the pool. Your eyes widen as you realize you haven’t seen your group in a week and Micah is the last person you spoke with. You quickly turn back to Camilas room knocking urgently. She opens the door glaring.

“What? You gonna throw mixed signals again?”

“Shut up and listen. Everyone in my groups disappeared, everyone except me and Micah.”

“…Micah came with us.”

“Exactly somethings wrong here, Lily and I would stay close but one day she asked a question and I just haven’t seen her. I thought maybe they were just keeping us separate but-“

“Y/N! Relax it’s an old folks home you’re just being paranoid what if Micah has family too and they just look alike?”

“With the same name?”

The girl shrugs. “I think you’re looking too deep into it.”

You scoff. “Fuck it, good luck with the white girl I hope you get to “hit that”.”

You slam the door once more putting the keys in your drawer after getting to your room the ankle bracelet secured the minute you crossed the threshold.

Camila lays down agitated. At you, at this place, and especially at JP for interrupting. All because he wanted to impress Micah.

It’s in the garden when they find a mark on Camilas neck.

“What’s that?”

“Hey watch it creep!” JP rolls his eyes before Big Mac helps.

“There’s something on your neck girl.”

“Something weirds going on.” JP catches sight of something familiar.

“Hey Greta, you know my sister loved making those too..” the woman begins to freak out making James and another staff member step in pushing aside JP who clutches the forgotten cootie catcher between his fingers. Big Mac appearing next to him.

“Yeah definitely something weird.”

Camila looks around the garden, the pool, and the cafeteria before she finds you in the common area helping someone play bingo.

“Y/N!” You spin to her in surprise eyes going over her to make sure she’s ok before going back to the task at hand.

“What camila?” She sits next to you attempting to control her breathing.

“You we’re right somethings going on and-“

“Great I was right!” You smile sarcastically. “You can go now.” The girl stares at you incredulous.

“We have to get out of here-“ she whispers urgently.

“So now you want to listen to me.” You scoff. “Look Camila I did this for you and your mom I can’t go, I have nowhere else I belong.”

You lower your voice to whisper. “The ankle monitor key is in my drawer room 10. Take it and run.”

You sit back up with a smile and return to stamping bingo slots for the man next to you.

Camila stared for a moment. “Y/n-“

James appeared next to placing a strong hand on your shoulder.

“Everything ok here y/n?” You nod and smile politely.

“Yeah James I was just telling Camila they could use more hands in the cafeteria.” He smiles back at you before sneering at Camila.

“Well?” She gets up huffing.

.

.

.

A weird bird sound hits your ears before a big man drops from the ceiling.

“You y/n?”

You nod eyes widening as he shows the key you only told Camila about. “Camila said I can only trust you.”

“Where is she?” You sit up.

“I cant find her or JP.”

“Ok we need a plan.”

“Right. But first things first….you single?”

.

.

.

James laid unconscious on the floor by your feet as you snuck further into a testing lab. A quiet whisper yell filling the room.

“Camila?”

“Camila!” A small groan responds you find her strapped to a bed next to the nice elderly woman Greta. The longer you’d stare at her the more familiar she’d look.

“Y/n?” You turned back to the small girl clutching her had and looking over her features they hadn’t gotten to her yet. You tugged off the restraints as she went to help the girl.

“Lily you have to wake up.”

Lily? You looked again feeling your eyes widen, the boy was her brother JP. You almost smacked your forehead not realizing you should’ve made the connection sooner.

“What a shame.” James limped towards you. “I really did like you Y/n, we still have a chance to make this right between us.”

You yelled running towards him trying to tackle him he hit you in the back making you fall to the floor in a heap. He went to inject you with a needle when Camila jumped on his back. Lily in a wheelchair looking for a nearby weapon. She tossed you a bed pan as you got back up. James throwing Camila off him, when he turned you smacked him across the face with the metal.

“We gotta go.”

The doors opened revealing Big Mac and a giant group of old people.

“LETS GO!”

You, Lily and Camila went to find JP and Big Mac distracted the guards and find an exit. You all stopped when you’d seen him tied to a chair being circled by Micah and Eddie (the founder of the nursing home). Around you were meat grinders and body bags, you felt yourself grow nauseous as you realized what was actually being put into the meat.

“And this is why I’m a vegan.” You gave a dirty glare to Camila as you tried to find a way to help JP. She shook her head at herself. “You stay with Lily I’ll help JP.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“No”

“Yes! FUCK Camila why can’t you just-“

Soft lips pushed into yours once more before the girl took off towards Eddie, you followed after when you saw Micah reaching for her. Lily slowly rolling to get JPs ropes loose.

Eddie had tossed Camila aside breaking your concentration. Micah took advantage and tased you. She knelt by you a small sadistic smirk on her face.

“You were right Camila is cute too bad you won’t live to ask her out.”

A body slammed into her pushing her onto the meat grinder. As she went to get up her hair got caught on the belt.

“EDDIE!” The man in question was in no better predicament. Lily not only released her brother but a pent up Chris who was sitting in a cage ready to be the next burger for Dennys. Chris slammed himself and Eddie onto the belt wrapping his legs around him and holding him still as he ripped out his throat. The sound of the trios bones and flesh permeating the factory.

You walked over to Camila who was grabbing her side.

“You good?” The angry teen gave you a grin as she pulled you into her for another kiss. it took a moment before you finally responded but once again got interrupted by JP.

“Not to cockblock but we should probably get out of the old people meat kitchen.”

You both nod exiting the facility and meeting up with Big Mac.

“MAMA WE MADE IT!”

You look down to Camila who shakes her head at him. You dip down to place a kiss in her cheek making the girl smile and look up at you.

“Let’s go home mi amor.”

“Oh shit y’all lesbians?”

[owl-falls-au-gravity-falls]

Inktober Challenge Day 2 - darkness | Día 2 - oscuridad

IN ENGLISH

After seeing his brother, Stan couldn't feel worse, of course, he could finally apologize, but now he felt like he had lost any reason to return to the human world, besides wanting to meet Dipper and Mabel, as well as bring Luz home

Although he had goals that he still had to complete, he couldn't help but feel his heart breaking after all the things Ford told him

He couldn't hate his brother, he had thought that he would look for him in some way, even if that wasn't the case, he wouldn't have cared as long as he knew that at least he was okay, that was all he needed to know, because thanks to that certainty, he could die in peace...

Even so, he couldn't die yet, not with promises to keep

It doesn't matter if the world is now blue and gray, he had to stay standing, those children depended on him, and he wasn't going to let them down...

Although the darkness would never stop trying to consume him...

...

Your little brother never tells you, but he loves you so

You said your mother only smiled on her TV show

You're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope

I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise

You're spilling like an overflowing sink

You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece

And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink…

Everything is blue

His pills, his hands, his jeans

And now I'm covered in the colors pulled apart at the seams

And it's blue, And it's blue

Everything is grey

His hair, his smoke, his dreams

And now he's so devoid of color, He don't know what it means

And he's blue, And he's blue

You were a vision in the morning When the light came through

I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you

You said you'll never be forgiven 'til your boys are too

And I'm still waking every morning but it's not with you

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise

You're spilling like an overflowing sink

You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece

And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink…

Everything is blue

His pills, his hands, his jeans

And now I'm covered in the colors pulled apart at the seams

And it's blue, And it's blue

Everything is grey

His hair, his smoke, his dreams

And now he's so devoid of color, He don't know what it means

And he's blue, And he's blue

You were red… and you liked me 'cause I was blue…

But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky…

And you decided purple… just wasn't for you

Everything is blue

His pills, his hands, his jeans

And now I'm covered in the colors pulled apart at the seams

And it's blue, And it's blue

Everything is grey

His hair, his smoke, his dreams

And now he's so devoid of color, He don't know what it means

And he's blue, And he's blue

Everything is blue

Everything is blue

Everything is blue

Everything is blue

EN ESPAÑOL

Después de ver a su hermano, Stan no se pudo sentir peor, claro, por fin pudo disculparse, Pero ahora sentía que había perdido alguna razón para regresar al mundo humano, además claro de querer conocer a Dipper y Mabel, así como llevar a Luz a casa

Aunque tenía objetivos que aún debía completar, no pudo evitar sentir como su corazón se rompía después de todas las cosas que Ford le dijo

No podía odiar a su hermano, había pensado que el lo buscaría de alguna forma, incluso si no fue ese el caso, no le habría importado con tal de saber que al menos estaba bien, eso era todo lo que necesitaba saber, porque gracias a esa certeza, podría morir en paz…

Aún asi, no podía morir todavía, no con promesas que cumplir

No importa si el mundo ahora es de colores azules y grises, tenía que mantenerse en pie, esos niños dependían de él, y no los iba a decepcionar ...

Aunque la oscuridad jamás dejaría de intentar consumirlo...

...

Tu hermano nunca te lo ha dicho, por ti siente amor

Luego tu madre actúa falsa al ver televisión

Eres feliz cuando te ahogas en drogadicción

Realmente espero que vivas lo suficiente, amor

Empapado como un húmedo amanecer

Como una batería en agua se siente

Aunque hecho trizas, él una obra maestra es

A otro nivel sentir más que tinta y papel

Todo es azul

sus jeans, pastillas y

Sus manos me cubren de colores, que me matan sin fin

Ese azul, ese azul

Luego todo es gris

su pelo y humo vi

Que le faltaban los colores que me hacían morir

Él es azul, él es azul

Maravillosa luz que entraba y se posaba en ti

Yo conocí la fe contigo, empecé a vivir

Decías que nunca serías perdonado y

No necesitas del perdón si te quedas aquí

Empapado como un húmedo amanecer

Como una batería en agua se siente

Aunque hecho trizas, él una obra maestra es

A otro nivel sentir más que tinta y papel

Todo es azul

sus jeans, pastillas y

Sus manos me cubren de colores, que me matan sin fin

Ese azul, ese azul

Luego todo es gris

su pelo y humo vi

Que le faltaban los colores que me hacían morir

Él es azul, él es azul

Eras rojo… yo azul y te gustaba que fuera así…

Me tocaste y como un extraño atardecer lila me volví…

Luego decidiste que ese color no era para ti…

Todo es azul

sus jeans, pastillas y

Sus manos me cubren de colores, que me matan sin fin

Ese azul, ese azul

Luego todo es gris

su pelo y humo vi

Que le faltaban los colores que me hacían morir

Él es azul, él es azul

Todo es azul

Todo es azul

Todo es azul

Todo es azul

[thottie777]

birthday sex

matt sturniolo.

(family friend, smut, matt x fem reader)

*writer’s note- skim through the first couple paras, they’re corny and just for context*

your family have been best friends with the sturniolo’s ever since your mother and mary-lou were in high school. nick, matt and chris have been your close family friends your whole life, it was hard watching them move to la after you had grown up in boston together, you missed them everyday and seeing them live their new ‘influencer’ lives was exciting but you couldn’t help but miss how things used to be, when you would spend every night watching movies with them and staying up until the morning chatting shit

for your 20th birthday they surprised you with flight tickets to la, so you could have a whole weekend with them for the first time in ages.

(fast forward to you being there lol)

you 4 had been watching films for hours, just like old times, you and matt were sat next to each other whilst chris and nick were laying on the other side of the sofa, everyone chilling in sweats and hoodies eating popcorn.

once it got to 2am chris and nick both gave in to their tiredness and headed to bed, leaving you and matt with a film on, sat next to one another hardly paying attention to what was going on and chattering away, you were sat in the corner of the sofa with your legs crossed, matt close beside you, you were playing with his hair, twirling it in between your fingers “your hair is getting so fluffy” you giggled, twisting his brown locks “yeah i know” he replied, sleepily. the sensation of your hands in his hair made his cheeks heat up as he was staring into your eyes.

you leant your face closer into his so that your noses were touching and your lips were inches away from brushing each other “you need to get a haircut soon” you said softly, moving away from his face and turning away to continue watching the film.

by the middle of the movie you both were almost half asleep and accidentally spooning on the sofa, matts head leant against the back of your hair. a loud noise from the film made you open your eyes and you quickly noticed how numb your body felt after laying there for so long, you wiggled a bit and ended up scooching closer, accidentally pressing your ass against his dick, keeping your bodies in close proximity. matt was glad you were facing away from him so you wouldn’t see the blush on his cheeks from the sexual thoughts that were racing around in his mind, he used your ass as relief for his semi, slightly rubbing himself against it to help soothe the ache.

you guys have been best friends for so long and usually cuddle so this time it felt no different for you, but matt felt like he was about to melt into you, this time it felt different.

as the movie drew to a close matt found his way underneath your hoodie and began to trace lines across your waist area, it was delicate and affectionate so you didn’t protest, you hummed at the sensation and let him continue, his hands very slowly made their way up near your ribcage, stroking gently. you turned to lay on your back and looked up at him as he continued, you reached up and rested your right hand on the back of his hair, as you let it brush between your fingers. “does that feel good?” he asked, and for the first time in your friendship matt was giving you butterflies, making you feel hot and horny. you nod and let out a quiet “hmm” as you smirk at him. his fingers had grazed the bottom of your tits multiple times at this point making the throb between your legs intensify and your lips part from the sensation, you turned your body again so that you were laying down facing him, so close you can feel each others breath.

he traced his fingers from your hip to your side, up to the curve of your right tit stroking it gently as he reached it. “do you like it when i touch you?” he questioned smirking instantly as you respond with slight whimpers and heavy breaths from his gentle brushes.

he carried his smirk downwards as you felt his lips graze the crook of your neck, his fingers left your hoodie and traced their way down the seam of your sweats, as he ran his fingers around your hip he noticed your lack of underwear and felt himself harden even more “no thong? you’re making this very easy for me y/n” he said through a satisfied grin. he reached his hand down your right thigh and stroked it causing your breathing to become heavier and your pussy to become almost embarrassingly wet.

his hand lingered around your inner thigh, tracing as if there was a long string around your body that he was following.

you moaned quietly and he let out a soft laugh. after what felt like hours of sexual torture (20 seconds) his hands became bored of your thighs that were practically shaking and he began to explore more of your body. his fingers found their way to the soft lips of your pussy and he gently pushed them so that he could feel your clit that was practically throbbing, your eyes closed from the intensity of the sensation and you bit your lip so that he wouldn’t hear your immediate moans from such simple touching.

he delved his fingers deeper feeling your whole cunt, almost slipping from how wet you are “oh fuckkk y/n, so fucking wet” he said staring at you with eyes that felt ten times darker than usual, “is that all for me y/n” he asked tenderly rubbing his middle and pointer finger up and down your pussy, you nodded your head, feeling incapable of saying anything that wasn’t moans, whimpers or expletives. “hmm use your words baby” matt said, lowering his head, leaving kisses on your neck, “all you-ohhhh fuckkkk-all you matt” you said practically gasping for air as your eyes rolled back and your lips parted from how good his fingers felt.

he played with your clit until he could feel you almost about to finish, he pulled his fingers away and you let out a pained whimper, narrowing your eyebrows at him, he looked down at you and laughed, bringing his fingers up to your mouth “spit” he demanded, you obeyed, looking up at him with such innocent eyes that almost made him explode right then and there. he took his fingers out of your mouth, dragging down your bottom lip in the process, finding his way back to your sensitive, wet cunt. you moaned loudly as he stuck his two digits inside you, pumping them in and out roughly as he used his thumb to play with your clit, making you thrust your pussy towards him and grip the back of his hair so tightly.

your eyes were so tightly shut that you were completely caught off guard when his entire hand left your sweats and he shifted his body so that he was by your feet, eyes looking needy and desperate. “legs up” he said, with so much dominance, you had no idea this side of matt existed. you lifted your legs and he quickly pulled down your sweats and threw them to the ground, before you could even process what was happening you felt his lips graze kisses starting from your ankles making his way up to your thighs, he licked the inside of you thigh, and looked up at you smirking as he could see the frustration form on your face “stop teasing matt” you begged, panting and throwing your arms up so that they were almost cradling your head.

he lowered his face down to your pussy, using his nose to trail down from your clit to your flaps, he looked up and kept eye contact with you as he placed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking it from top to bottom, making you lose eye contact and tighten your eyes again from pleasure, “eyes on me y/n” he ordered and you followed, struggling to keep them open from the pleasure he was giving you. he licked and sucked your clit, beginning gently and speeding up as he heard your pants quicken, he used his fingers to open your lips up, exposing your clit and sucking it so well you knew you were about to cum on his face. “MATT……oh fuck i’m gonna cum fuck baby i’m gonna cum” you moaned, and he raised one of his hands to shush you so that you wouldn’t wake chris or nick, he stuck his two digits inside you and fingered you roughly as he flicked your clit with his tongue and continued to suck on it until he felt your hands grip the back of his hair tightly, your thighs squeeze around his head and your pussy finish on his face.

you were both sweaty messes and he sat up resting on his knees, throwing his hoodie off leaving him with just his boxers and sweats off, “tits now” he demanded, you sat up and pulled off your hoodie, leaving you bare with your legs still spread, perfect round tits bouncing and long hair down framing your pretty face

”god you’re so fucking hot y/n, i need you” he said smirking, his eyes travelled from your wet cunt to your tits to your eyes, you smiled at him and he stood up quickly, holding eye contact, and took off his bottom half.

his big cock sprung out from his boxers and slapped his stomach in the process, he came back to the sofa and placed himself on top of you, holding himself up with his knees as he straddled you and using his right hand to trace lines down your body, reminding you how the night started.

you looked up at him and pulled him closer with one arm, your hand tugging on the back of his hair, “fucking kiss me then” you said with a sexy smirk as you wrapped your legs around him, your naked bodies pushing against eachother. he didn’t hesitate for a second as he grabbed your face and kissed you like he needed you to breathe, you grinded against eachother and kissed passionately, after 20 years of friendship it was worth the wait. you bit his lip and he let out a soft moan, following by moulding your tongue with his own, after making out for a while he sat up placed one arm up to keep his balance, he used his other hand to stroke his cock and rubbed ur throbbing cunt with it, using his tip to tease ur clit, you moaned loudly, panting, waiting for him to finally fuck you. “yeah?” he said, responding to your moans with a patronising comment that frustrated you even more, you needed him inside you.

“you better take it like a good girl” he said as he placed his tip at your entrance, immediately he pounded it into you, “FUCK!” you screamed, feeling both pain and pleasure from matt simultaneously, he thrusted into you, hard and fast, giving your pussy no time to adjust to his length.

he placed his hand around your tits, sucking at your nipples, and using his other hand to play with your clit as he fucked the shit out of you. he panted and moaned at how tight and wet your pussy was, letting out a moan with every other thrust he gave you. “you feel so good baby” he panted as his eyes rolled back, clearly on the cusp of finishing. “your cock is so big matt fuckkkk” you moaned, almost seizing up around his dick and cumming for your best friend the second time this evening.

“you can take more” he said, as he pulled out briefly “bend over” he ordered, you did as he said and flipped over, putting your face in the couch cushions, arching your back and sticking your ass out for him, wiggling it so that he would give it a good spank. “yeah i’m definitely not done with you yet” he said with a raspy, dominant voice, burying his face in your ass and kissing it all over. he spanked it multiple times, leaving a handprint mark and earning gasps and moans from you, he shoved his cock deep inside you, you took his whole length and bounced your ass up and down as he filled you up, he used one hand to gather all your hair and pull at it, and his other hand roughly placed on your hip, helping steer him into your tight cunt that he had made so sloppy.

“c-c-cum inside me baby” you beg, stuttering due to the harsh thrusts that matt is giving you, he’s hitting your g spot which no other guy has ever hit before, you feel yourself tense up around his massive dick and release with the next couple thrusts he gave you, you moan so loudly, almost screaming his name, he quickly threw a hand over your mouth “shhhhh y/n, i know you wanna scream but you have to keep quiet”.

his pants intensified and the next second you felt his warm cum shoot inside you, lots of it. he whimpered and slowly pulled out, flipping you back over onto your back, he stayed balanced on his knees, looking down at you with his cum oozing out of your cunt, your tits covered in spit and your hair all messy and frazzled. he placed two digits up your pussy and scooped out some of his jizz onto his fingers, “taste me” he demanded, sticking them into your mouth, you looked up at him with your big doe eyes, sucking the cum off his fingers and licking them dry. you smirked and he lowered his face down to yours, noses brushing “i’ve wanted to fuck you ever since i’ve know what sex is”, he placed a soft kiss on your lips, holding your chin with his hand, “happy birthday y/n” he said as he removed himself from the sofa, picked up his clothes and walked to his room.

you were left stunned, but physically too tired to follow him so you threw your sweats and hoodie back on and fell asleep on the sofa.

the next morning-

“morning y/n sleep ok?” chris asked in a sleepy voice as he entered the living room, you nodded, yawning and walked over to the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal, legs hurting with every step you took. you and chris sat at the kitchen island peacefully eating your coco pops as matt emerged out of his room, hair messy and ruffled. “morning” he said, leaning against the fridge, hardly being able to keep his eyes open.

“jesus what time did you guys go to sleep last night?” chris asked innocently, noticing how disheveled and tired you both looked “it was a long film” you replied looking up at matt with pornstar eyes, chris didn’t seem to care and kept his eyes glued to his phone, matt looked over at you and mouthed “legs hurting?” smirking and laughing to himself.

[egginfroggin]

To the Anon who sent me an ask requesting more little Emmet content: I am so sorry, I started to answer and then Tumblr ate it when I tried to save it to my drafts.

That being said, here is the requested content:

After Emmet gets shrunk from Rift energy, Arceus quickly sees the issue with this situation and tampers with its mark on him -- rather than a subtle mark that designates their connection, visible only to the Nobles and Legendaries, Arceus adjusts it so that most pokemon are able to see that Emmet is Arceus's Chosen, and will leave him alone accordingly. This doesn't always work, but it helps make sure that the Staravias don't try to peck his eyes out, at least. Its effect is flaky when it comes to Paras.

As a continuation of the above point, this makes it slightly worse in some cases, as the frenzied Nobles can see his designation plain as day. Due to Giratina's wrath being the source of their frenzy, this makes them pursue him with single-minded intent. Additionally, some alphas choose to ignore Emmet's mark and all it entails.

Typhlosion mothers Emmet already, but she truly leans into her broodiness in this variant. Do Not Touch. Emotional support fire weasel will bite.

Akari and Rei are well aware of the fact that Emmet is possibly not supposed to look like this, but they frequently forget about this during the process of Sibling Adoption.

The Ride Pokemon (which are considered Nobles in most, if not all, of my works) are very, very protective of this little bean chosen by Arceus. He is tiny! He must be protected!

Jubilife generally treats Emmet more warmly than they do in the original fic. Most people don't know about the theory that Emmet is, in fact, a grown adult who somehow got shrunk. Those who do know about that theory nevertheless treat him more gently because he is still physically, and to some extent mentally, still a child in a very unfortunate situation.

This does not stop a sort of banishment from occurring during the red sky, but rather than chucking the boy out on his ear, Kamado outright orders Akari and Rei to go with him.

(They would go anyway; even if they were to be ostracized, by this point Emmet is their tiny brother, and they would be willing to deal with it)

Palina is not happy with the fact that the Galaxy Team is okay with this tiny child running around fixing problems.

Emmet and Vessa get along great, frankly, once they get past Vessa staring him dead in the eyes and telling him that he is a mess and his soul is blinding and wrong. After that, hijinks ensue.

Emmet is not above using his cute little face and big, shiny eyes to manipulate Akari and Rei into giving him sweets.

Akari and Rei hate distortions with a passion because they're dangerous, but also because whenever they show up, Emmet just up and freaking runs into them and then they have to go drag him back. It's exhausting.

Emmet is very good at escaping whatever measures are instated to keep him contained.

Due to Emmet's tininess, things like stun spore and sleep powder affect him more severely. He will catch a whiff of sleep powder, sneeze, and get verrrry sleepy verrrrry fast.

Akari and Rei learn sign language very fast because it is the only way to tell what the heck Emmet is saying without writing utensils, and in the field, writeable dirt is not common, nor is sand, and they don't usually carry around much spare paper.

On the plus side, Emmet can get tuckered out pretty quickly due to the aforementioned tininess, and he's not very good and pushing on after that point.

On the down side, Emmet can get tuckered out pretty quickly due to the aforementioned tininess, and he's not very good at pushing on after that point.

So, that's all for the moment! I hope this answered your question if you're seeing this, Anon, and that you have a good day. ^^

[cagenewman]

NOVEMBER 20, 2024 SELF PARA

Cage & Cordelia are honeymooning in Wyoming from November 16th through 22nd when they receive a phone call on the 21st from Colton that changes their lives forever. Gentle warning that the self para contains brief mentions of death and parental loss, as well as anxiety. Written with @cordelianewman!

He had heard it a hundred times: there were always going to be little moments in your life that defined who you were. What kind of husband, father, lover... man. Good things and bad things that happened to you, around you, shaped you in ways that you couldn't have ever imagined, and whether or not you saw them coming, they were still going to happen.

Cage just hadn't expected it to happen on his honeymoon.

Life since the wedding had been a delightful combination of 'bliss' and 'as you were.' Cordelia had resumed classes, that delicate balance between student, mother and wife, and Cage had gone back into the folding, working diligently in the shop at orders that they needed to get done by Christmas time, visiting the job site that they were currently working on, barking orders and picking kids up after various practices and school hours. Colton and Shawn were busy prepping for playoff football, and Rosalyn... well, she would always rule the house. By the time that Saturday morning had rolled around and Cage found himself setting down his suitcase, nearly tackling his wife onto the oversized bed with a rumbling laugh that matched her giggle... 'as you were' had melted away completely into bliss.

And the week had been good to them so far, spending their time adventuring through wildlife tours, spending quality time in their private hot tub, long walks in Grand Teton National Park, horseback riding, and of course, most importantly, spending time with each other. Those might have been his favorite moments, waking up next to her, a leg thrown loosely over his, delicate fingers tracing shapes through the sparse smattering of blonde hairs on his chest, that familiar scent of her shampoo connecting past and present in his brain. Every morning, he woke up grateful, basked in the glow, the golden warmth; every morning, he made love to her like it would be the first and last time that he ever had the chance to touch her, kiss her, be with her.

Until the phone rang on Wednesday, before either of them had woken, before the sun had even finished rising, before they were ready for what was to come.

Groaning, pressing up from her stomach, blonde hair cascading over her face, brushing it out of the way. “I swear if that’s a telemarketer I will absolutely instill the fear of everything into them.” Leave it up to Cordelia willing to threaten someone just doing their job, but she really was just tired from being up far too late. Those late nights in the hot tub and lost bikinis that turned into nights in bed were really catching up.

"Hopefully just a wrong number," he murmured, pushing himself up, onto his arm to lean over his wife, picking up his phone and squinting in the dark. But the name rang alarm bells, and Cage found himself sitting up quickly, his voice hoarse with leftover sleep, "it's Colton -- hey, kid, everything okay?"

"Can you come home?"

The panic that ran through him was sudden, heavy, a vice grip around his heart, squeezing in his chest, holding tight. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Is your sister okay?" His siblings, Cordelia's siblings, the barn, the house, his business, had something happened in town, were the animals okay -- he was reminded of the time that he had taken the call from the home nurse, asking him to come home from his trip with Colton, to be there for his father, to spend some time at home.

When he mentioned that it was Colton, she squinted to look at the clock, it was super early there in Jackson Hole, Wyoming but that meant it was still early-ish in Merrock. Shifting onto her side she brushed her hair back again and shifted to sit up, pulling the sheet tight around her slim frame as she leaned over pulling on her nightgown. Furrowing her brows she shifted to move closer to Cage and leaned her head in, trying to hear the conversation and what was going on. By the way Cage was acting it wasn’t good.

"I'm okay, Rosalyn's okay, Shawn -- it's, his parents, dad."

It came pouring out of his son then; Shawn's parents were gone. The details, in that moment, didn't matter. Cage wanted to feel relief, he wanted to feel at ease that Colton, Rosalyn and Shawn were okay, that it wasn't his brothers or sisters, but it didn't come when everything flowed through his mind -- playing football with Travis, sleepovers for his birthday, Cordelia and Maddie hanging out after practice as kids. Colton growing up with Shawn, just a grade behind, following in his footsteps. Cook-outs and movie nights once they had gotten back together. They were friends, they had been friends for so long... his stomach rolled, bringing a hand up to his face, covering his mouth, unsure of what to say as Cordelia took the phone, speaking quietly to his son.

As the phone was handed to her she took a breath, eyes filled with tears, her chest tight, feeling like she couldn’t expand her ribs big enough to take a full breath but she did anyway, forcing herself. Keeping her voice steady even though she could feel it shake in her throat. Cordelia was off the bed before her legs could even understand and stumbled slightly. “I promise, we’re going to be home as soon as we can, I’m going to get the first flight home, okay baby?” Her voice soothing, trying to quell any fear in Colton’s voice. Obviously she could hear his fear with his voice, Shawn’s parents had been traveling, and now they would be. “We will be home okay? Repeat what I said, okay? I need you to hear it.” Letting him say it. After a short time phones were exchanged and now it was Cordelia roughly packing things into bags, and grabbing things. She didn’t care other than getting home to their kids. Their kids. It hit her, these were their kids. Shawn was their kid, he had been since the beginning of the school year, and now — well, was there any denying what this would be? Her fingers worked furiously on the phone to get tickets, hell she’d drain their bank account for a private jet that you could rent for a few hours just to fly if she had to. Thankfully they didn’t have to come to that as she was able to secure the first flight in less than two hours, tossing more things into bags just wanting to get home. Cordelia needed to get home to see them safe, to hold them, to hold Shawn, to make them as safe as possible.

And Cage needed a plan, needed to figure out what they were supposed to do next, where they were supposed to go. He was vaguely aware of voices as he picked himself up from the bed, beginning to throw clothes in the suitcase, joined by Cordelia a few moments later, Colton on speaker phone as she set it on the edge of the night stand, where they could both hear him. There was a nervous edge to his voice, a certain pleading that he hadn't heard from his son before, not for a long time, something he didn't want to hear again, anytime soon. He tried to soothe him, reminding him that he could call Kellan or Lucie, one of them would come over if his cousin wasn't enough to keep them comfortable, if they needed extra support, assured him that Cordelia was on her phone booking a flight, and then Shawn's voice cut in, the deep timbre he had gotten used to hearing over the past few months since he had come to live with them.

"My sister, Cienna. She's in Minnesota."

At the mention of the sister their eyes met, and she knew, she didn’t need to say anything, he didn’t, she knew what she would do, just as much as he would do the same thing. They’d keep them a family, they’d be their family, they’d do whatever Shawn needed, but first things first, they needed to get them home.

It was just a moment of silence, but a thousand things were said between them in that one glance. Cage's fingers reached out to find Cordelia's, curling around her hand and giving it a squeeze. This must have been what they were talking about, one of those moments, one of those times that made you who you were, that defined who you were going to be. She didn't need to ask him, and he didn't need to say that they would, because they both knew where they were going, and they knew what they were going to do, and it didn't matter if they hadn't seen any of this coming, it didn't matter that it was going to change their lives forever. When he spoke, it was as much to himself, to Cordelia, as it was to the boys.

"We'll get her home."

[ultravioletqueen]

I love cute ships between people who didn't have an easy life, and I didn't miss the opportunity to make this type of ship with Elin and Ford, that's how FORLIN was born.

They met thanks to Hector becoming friends with Dipper and Mabel, Elin was definitely very curious about Ford during this time but Ford wanted to keep his distance because 1) he wanted to focus on other things and 2) he hadn't interacted with a normal woman for years so he was afraid of looking strange in front of this sweet lady.

Although sooner or later they ended up interacting more when Hector began to spend more time with the pines, they both began to talk about the children and the strange things in the town, this made them start to be friends.

Now talking more in depth about the relationship!

Elin may not be as brilliant as Ford but she is the voice of reason (or the heart) when he needs it, she is something like the moral compass.

Elin often feels insecure about being a good mother but Ford often reassures her with facts about why she shouldn't doubt her motherhood since after all escaping a toxic relationship and taking her children to a safe place to start over already makes her a phenomenal mother.

They are both touch starved and a little nervous about it but Elin usually takes the initiative with the touch.

Ford is the more protective of the two, not only because Ford is generally like that with his loved ones but because Elin usually freezes in the face of fear or danger (especially if said danger is her ex) so Ford takes the initiative to protect her.

(Español)

Amo los ships tiernos entre personas que no tuvieron la vida facil, y no perdí la oportunidad de hacer este tipo de ship con elin y ford, así nació FORLIN.

Se conocieron gracias a que hector se hizo amigo de dipper y mabel, elin definitivamente sintió mucha curiosidad por ford durante este tiempo pero ford quiso mantener su distancia debido a que 1)quería centrarse en otras cosas y 2)no había interactuado con una mujer normal por años por lo que tenía miedo de quedar raro frente a esta dulce doña.

Aunque tarde o temprano terminaron interactuando mas cuando hector empezó a estar más tiempo con los pines, ambos empezaron a hablar sobre los niños y sobre las cosas raras del pueblo, esto hizo que empezarán a ser amigos.

¡Ahora hablando más a fondo de la relación!

elin no será tan brillante como ford pero ella es la voz de la razon(o del corazón) cuando el lo necesita, ella es algo así como la brújula moral.

Elin suele sentirse insegura sobre ser una buena madre pero ford suele asegurarle con hechos sobre porque no debería dudar de su maternidad ya que después de todo el escapar de una relación toxica y llevar sus hijos a un lugar seguro para empezar de nuevo ya la hace una madre fenomenal.

Ambos están hambrientos de contacto y algo nerviosos al respecto pero elin suele tomar la iniciativa con el contacto.

Ford es el más protector de los dos, no solo porque ford en general es así con sus seres queridos sino porque elin suele congelarse ante el miedo o peligro(sobretodo si dicho peligro es su ex) por lo que ford toma la iniciativa para proteger a elin.

[tarjapearce]

Could you elaborate more about the fight Miguel had with your family that was mentioned in the soccer family proposal imagine?

Ayyy! It's the perfect chance to get the angst out of me jsksj. And of course, no relationship is perfect 💔.

What caused the fight Pt3

Gabriel's eyes settled on the both as you entered Miguel's apartment. Solemnity and listless faces dragged inside.

Gabriel was as perspicacious as his elder brother. A habit rubbed on him through the years of sharing the apartment and drunk in mezcal and tequila talks.

You were teary eyed, unable to look him for more than a couple of seconds before acknowledge him with a lip tight smile and follow Miguel to his room like a scolded puppy. The room felt smaller, crumpling around you, almost suffocating. A couple of your belongings scattered around the place.

So far the only indicators that a woman occupied a spot in his life. Silence felt so deafening it crawled and bit on your tremorous skin. Dread had made itself comfortable in your guts along anxiety ever since you left your old house. Cause you'd certainly wouldn't able to call it home.

And after all these years the little to no improvement had only made you oath to yourself that you'd stay as far as possible from them.

You'd notice the white of his knuckles gripping so tightly at the wheel, that when you tried to get a hold of his hand, his hand recoiled from yours. An appalling contrast from hours ago where he'd held you and gave gentle touches to ease and relief your nerves.

You had warned him, and still the both got burned. Him specially. It felt like the person you had as a mother figure was doing it on purpose to upset you and him.

It couldn't be that bad between the both, right? If he was honest, at first he thought that nothing but a small fight had ensued and that you were a little immature about it. But as your relationship kept growing you'd tell him just the highlights of your mother's behavior.

Something that he actually related way too well. He knew that speaking of your family was still a sore point, something you were treating with therapy.

"What's wrong, Miguel?"

"Nada." (Nothing)

"Mentiroso. ¿Qué te pasa?" (Liar, what's wrong?

Silence. You were done with it.

"You haven't spoke much ever since we got back from my old house. You're not... even looking at me!"

"Your family thinks I'm a freak."

You frowned and shook your head.

"And I apologize for that. I warned you about them-"

"Thanks for the fucking late warning"

His massive back heaved with subtle anger as it turned to you. His hands in his waist.

"Miguel..." Your eyes went wide at his words, head buzzed with his hurtful words.

"I bet you didn't even tell them about me."

His accusing tone was certainly tugging too hard at your heart seams. "I barely keep communication with them, Miguel. You out of everyone knows it!"

"Are you ashamed of me?" His self doubt threw daggers at your heart with each syllable that formed the question.

"W-What?"

"¿Qué no oyes? Te avergüenzas de mí o qué?! (Didn't you hear, are you ashamed of me or what?!)

"Le bajas a tu tono que no eres mi papá. No le permití jamás levantarme la voz para que tú lo hagas ahora." (Chill your tone down, you're not my father. I never allowed him to do so for you to come at me like that now.)

"And now you're scared of me"

"Listen to yourself, Miguel! Pull your head out of your ass for a second and listen to how you're talking to me! Haven't I been there for you and with you since last year?"

Gabriel gave a silent whistle as your fight grew loud enough for him to hear everything outside Miguel's bedroom door. He retreated to his room out of politeness.

"Yeah, we've been-"

"Then why you act like I'm being a burden to you all out the sudden? Why are you acting like I'm the one that hurt you?! You know that I'd never do that!. I'm not my family, Miguel."

Your voice cracked.

He shook his head. He had seen the way everyone stared at him when he tried to open the beer with his teeth. Fearful, disgusted.

The exact way he was looking at you.

To say it hurt was an understatement. He was deliberately prying open your chest and ripping your heart out while showing off and marveling at the process of such act.

"You... You don't wanna be with me anymore?"

The question sent a painful jab to his chest, but his wounded ego had taken all the controls on his rational side.

"Maybe it's time for you to get someone that's fucking normal. I'm clearly not. So why staying?"

A hiccup.

"Because I love you, you fucking idiot!"

A sob, and his heart sunk deeper.

Apologize. Now.

His mind chanted but his pride joined in the maneuvering of his spilled and jagged emotions. Adding more dry bones to the fire.

"But clearly this... this isn't working out, isn't it?"

"Clearly."

Your head nodded as your arms braced your quivering form. A meek protection from his cutting words.

"Sorry to have wasted your time then." You spoke in between angry sobs as you removed the necklace he once gifted you and shoved it back to his hand.

His bottom lip pursed as he saw you picking up the little traces of you in a haste. He went for your shoulder gently.

"Mira, yo-" (Look, I-)

You recoiled away from him as silent tears kept rolling down your face. Some watered the carpet underneath your feet.

"You've said enough."

A way too polite 'Don't Touch Me"

You picked up your things in your arms, messily. The room was clutching at your throat, cutting bit by bit your breaths, but Miguel's indifference was the one that made your head spin from the sudden lack of air. He was killing you with his suffocating coldness.

You hadn't mind the little brostbites he'd gave you, but this one had been too bad for you to keep holding it up. The burn had been too much. Too fast and too deep for you to properly process. All you knew is that you needed to get out.

Now.

Bundling up the things in the cardigan, you went out his bedroom's door.

Stop

His steps followed you, but this time he was the one unable to catch up. You were already closing the main door with a quiet close.

His hands trembled as they found their way on each side of his hips. Gripping and provoking enough pressure to at least feel a fraction of the pain he just put you through.

The necklace in his hand still warm. His own heat dulling yours. Just like your smile. Just like you. Just like every damn thing that made him feel good and happy.

Self sabotage was his best trait. Something he clearly forgot to warn you. But it was late.

The texture of the metal chain crunched underneath his fist.

Too late.