#so i’m actually not that surprised by this devastating news
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So every year or two, I go through a period of reconnecting with my high school Trekkie interests, rewatching some Star Trek clips, episodes, and movies, and during this particular period, I have to voice my main criticism of the reboot films: namely, the treatment of the Enterprise.
To be clear, I think the reboot Enterprise had a nice redesign. She looked very clean and futuristic while capturing the original design in broad strokes. The lens glare is certainly annoying, and it doesn’t have the same heart and retro feel as the original, but I feel they generally did a fairly decent job with the design. I’m talking about how she is treated throughout the films, namely, how she’s treated effectively like just another ship.
In the original series, the Enterprise has a certain heart coming across almost like a character in of herself. You get a clear feel from the characters that they consider the enterprise almost to be home, and Kirk and Scotty in particular see her almost like an actual woman, one who they cherish and will protect at all costs. This sentiment is magnified in the first three movies, particularly in the motion picture and in the search for Spock. When Kirk first sees the refit Enterprise, you can see how much he loves the ship, and when the Enterprise is plunging to her final resting place, the mourning on all of their faces, especially Kirk, makes this moment particularly powerful and truly hammer home that the Enterprise was a character in and of herself. The original Enterprise felt like a character fans had grown up with, and her destruction felt almost like the loss of an old friend. And at the end of the voyage home, when the crew has that last-minute surprise reveal of the Enterprise-A, the triumph and homecoming feeling is so clear that even the audience shares the sentiment, almost as if the character has been reborn.
The enterprise in the reboots was never portrayed this way. She was treated like just a ship, one that might’ve been nicer and fancier and more advanced than the others, but not really all that special beyond that. In the first movie, that’s acceptable, as the focus is on bringing together the crew and getting them where they need to be for the start of their journeys. The second one focuses more on the captaincy, and what it means to really earn that seat, so it’s excusable that this one focused more on Kirk and how seriously he took his responsibilities, though they could’ve put more emphasis on the ship as part of that arc. Yes, the ship almost crashing was an emotional scene, but that had everything to do with the characters aboard and nothing to do with the ship beyond it being the place where the characters were and it’s damage being the reason that they were about to die.
And then in the third one, they just blow up the ship in the first 30 minutes and try to portray it with the same sentimental weight as the destruction of the Enterprise in the search for Spock. Which would’ve been fine, if it weren’t for the fact that they spent the last two movies treating the enterprise like just a thing, just another tool in the characters belt. She had no heart, no soul, no feeling that she was a home, or that she was the thing that brought the crew together, and kept them together, the thing that made them a family. She was basically just a big car, there to get them from point A to point B and occasionally shoot at some bad guys, and then, we’re supposed to feel devastated when she goes down for the final time.
The reveal of a reboot version of the Enterprise A was a nice surprise, but it lacked the emotional payoff of the original version, largely because of how ordinary the first Enterprise had been in this timeline. You can’t really celebrate the revival of a lost character when the character was never really there to begin with. They might as well have put the crew on an entirely new ship, like maybe a rebooted version of the Excelsior, and it would’ve had the same basic impact.
My point is that classic trek, as well as the next generation and DS9, did an excellent job of portraying the dynamic between captain and ship to the point where the ship felt almost like a real character. And that worked really well. It made the crash of the Enterprise D in generations a shocking scene, and it made her surprise return in season 3 of Picard a heartfelt and deeply nostalgic scene (Even if I wanted the Enterprise E, sorry but she’s my favorite). It made the loss of the Defiant in season seven of DS9 a powerful and emotional moment. I haven’t watched a lot of Voyager, so I can’t comment on that, but I can say with decent confidence that they couldn’t have done worse than they did in the reboots.
#star trek#star trek the original series#star trek the next generation#star trek reboot#star trek ds9#ds9#deep space nine#star trek into darkness#star trek beyond#uss enterprise#ncc 1701#enterprise a#enterprise d#enterprise e#james t kirk#mr spock#dr mccoy#tos scotty#mr scott#star trek the motion picture#star trek ii: the wrath of khan#star trek iii: the search for spock#star trek iv: the voyage home#star trek picard#star trek generations#jean luc picard#kobayashi maru#uss defiant#uss voyager
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We get it, Disney. We get it.
Star Wars is not for women.
Star Wars is not for Black people.
Star Wars is not for Asian people.
Star Wars is not for Queer people.
Star Wars is not for anyone who is marginalized and has different lived experiences.
Nope. Star Wars is ONLY for cishet white men. We hear you loud and clear. We know you don’t care about us at all.
#the acolyte#oshamir#qimir#the stranger#osha aniseya#fuck you disney#fuck you lucasfilm#as someone who is a reylo shipper and a rose tico fan i’ve been disappointed by these a$$holes before#so i’m actually not that surprised by this devastating news#words cannot express how sad i am to see more amazing potential go to waste#having said that i’m still really grateful this show was even made and that at least we darkside girlies won at least once#oshamir is canon ❤️#it’s rare for me to have a canon ship that has a hopeful/happy ending#qimir is the best male star wars character ever and he will continue to live on in my wounded heart#we will keep these characters alive through the love and creativity of fans
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The Dog House
summary: leah misses date night, she tries to make it up to you
warnings: leah being leah i guess…
a/n: based off this request !
word count: 1.2k
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Leah’s been distracted lately. It’s not that you’re not important to her—you are—but there’s a lot going on. Training, media obligations, a sudden obsession with learning to bake sourdough bread for reasons you don’t quite understand. And her house is full of these massive jars of starter that she’s named things like “Gertrude” and “Stephen” and “Samantha.” Stephen’s the strongest one, apparently. Not that you care.
You’re trying to be supportive. Really, you are. But it’s getting weird.
So when you text her a gentle reminder about date night, you’re half-expecting a response that sounds like it’s written by one of those clunky bots—like, “Of course, darling! Can’t wait to see you tonight! ❤️❤️❤️” That’s what she’d usually do. Instead, you get nothing.
Hours pass. You start to get annoyed. Then you get anxious. Then you start wondering if maybe Leah’s planning some big surprise and that’s why she’s not responding. You imagine her secretly arranging a rooftop dinner with fairy lights and a string quartet, where she’ll confess she’s been so preoccupied because she’s actually writing a book about how incredible you are.
But then you come back to reality and grasp she probably just forgot.
By 7 PM, you’re pacing around the flat, wearing the outfit you picked out two days ago—a dress you specifically bought because Leah said you looked “so fucking sexy” in red, even though it’s so tight you can’t even breathe properly. Your makeup is perfect, your hair is styled, and you’re sitting on the couch, stewing in a potent cocktail of Chanel No. 5 and disappointment.
Finally, you text her again.
> Hey, you on your way?
Nothing.
Ten minutes later, still nothing.
By 8 PM, you’re starting to wonder what the protocol is for someone forgetting a date night. Do you call? Do you show up to their house with a “We need to talk” face? Do you… dump them? No, that’s too extreme, even though it would make a great story for your friends.
Finally, at 8:13, your phone buzzes.
> Shit. Be there in 20. Promise. Don’t hate me
You almost laugh, except you’re too irritated to find anything funny right now. Twenty minutes? Twenty minutes is nothing. She probably still smells like whatever alien protein shakes she drinks after training, which you pretend to like but secretly think taste like a mix of chalk and regret.
But you wait. Because you love her. Or because you’re a sucker. Or both.
Leah arrives at 8:42, disheveled and clearly not sorry enough. She’s holding a Tesco bag, which is never a good sign. Tesco bags mean last-minute attempts at forgiveness, and you don’t care how cute she looks in her sweats.
Okay, you care a little, but still.
“I’m so sorry,” she says as she bursts through the door, dropping the bag for life onto the floor like she’s just run a marathon. “I lost track of time”
You cross your arms and give her a look. The kind of look that says, Really?
“I know, I know,” she continues, talking at a speed that suggests she’s trying to cram a day’s worth of apologies into the next thirty seconds. “I’ve been so caught up with—”
“—Stephen?”
Leah blinks. “Stephen?”
“Your sourdough. Stephen”
“Oh. Right.” Leah runs a hand through her hair, which only makes it messier. “I might’ve forgotten to feed him, too”
“I’m sure he’s devastated,” you say, deadpan.
“I’m devastated,” Leah says, doing her best impression of someone who’s sincerely regretful. She takes a step closer, giving you that puppy-dog look that normally melts you but tonight just feels like she’s trying to disarm a bomb. “But I have a plan”
You raise an eyebrow. “A plan?”
“Yeah. A plan to make it up to you.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s about to reveal a new Tesla or something.
You stare at her, unimpressed. “Does it involve anything that’s not in that bag?”
She laughs, and you can’t help but soften a little. She’s got this laugh that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay, even when she’s screwed up royally.
“Come on,” she says, grabbing the bag and heading to the kitchen. “Trust me. You’ll love it”
You don’t follow her immediately. You want to see how this plays out before you commit to pretending everything is okay. So you stand there in the doorway, watching as she pulls out ingredients that don’t really go together.
“Leah, what exactly are you planning to do with pickles, chocolate syrup, and a single red onion?”
She grins at you like she’s just cracked the code to the universe. “It’s a surprise”
“I’m surprised you even made it here alive if that’s what you’ve been eating lately”
Leah’s grin doesn’t waver. She’s on a mission now, and there’s no stopping her. “Look, just sit down. I’ve got this”
You sit, but mostly because your feet hurt in the heels you’re wearing and the sofa is closer than the bedroom. Leah’s bustling around the kitchen, and you can’t tell if she’s actually cooking or just making noise to buy herself more time.
Minutes later, she emerges with a tray. The tray has candles on it, which is at least a step in the right direction. Then you see what she’s made.
Two plates of what can only be described as… nachos. But they’re not nachos. They’re a weird interpretation of nachos where the tortilla chips have been replaced with some kind of protein bar, the cheese is… okay, there’s no cheese, and the toppings are just random things she found in your fridge.
She sets the tray down in front of you with the pride of a five-star chef presenting their signature dish.
“Voilà!” she announces, beaming.
You stare at the concoction in front of you, then back at her. “Leah, what the hell is this?”
“It’s my way of saying sorry”
You look at her, then at the nachos again. “You could’ve just said ‘I’m sorry’ like a normal person”
“But this is better,” she insists, her enthusiasm unwavering. “It’s like, an experience”
“Yeah, I’m experiencing regret,” you say, eyeing the “nachos” with suspicion.
Leah laughs again, this time a little sheepishly. “Okay, so maybe the food’s not great. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“You’re seriously expecting me to eat this?” you ask, poking at one of the protein bars with your fork like it might bite back.
Leah’s face falls just a little, and suddenly, you realise that she’s actually trying. She’s terrible at this—so, so terrible—but she’s trying.
And that’s why you love her.
“Fine,” you say with a sigh. “But if I get food poisoning, you’re sleeping on the couch”
She grins, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. “Deal”
You end up eating the nachos. They’re awful, but Leah’s so happy you’re eating them that you can’t help but smile. She’s sitting there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and you can’t help but remember that this is her way of showing she cares.
After dinner, she pulls out a bottle of wine—an actual, normal bottle of wine—and the two of you sit on the sofa, talking and laughing until you’re both too tired to keep your eyes open.
She falls asleep first, her head on your shoulder, snoring softly. You’re still a little annoyed at her, but you know she’ll make it up to you in other ways. And tomorrow, you’ll probably laugh about this whole thing.
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc#awfc x reader#engwnt#engwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community
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Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi is, by some measures, the most popular leader in the world. Prior to the 2024 election, his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) held an outright majority in the Lok Sabha (India’s Parliament) — one that was widely projected to grow after the vote count. The party regularly boasted that it would win 400 Lok Sabha seats, easily enough to amend India’s constitution along the party's preferred Hindu nationalist lines.
But when the results were announced on Tuesday, the BJP held just 240 seats. They not only underperformed expectations, they actually lost their parliamentary majority. While Modi will remain prime minister, he will do so at the helm of a coalition government — meaning that he will depend on other parties to stay in office, making it harder to continue his ongoing assault on Indian democracy.
So what happened? Why did Indian voters deal a devastating blow to a prime minister who, by all measures, they mostly seem to like?
India is a massive country — the most populous in the world — and one of the most diverse, making its internal politics exceedingly complicated. A definitive assessment of the election would require granular data on voter breakdown across caste, class, linguistic, religious, age, and gender divides. At present, those numbers don’t exist in sufficient detail.
But after looking at the information that is available and speaking with several leading experts on Indian politics, there are at least three conclusions that I’m comfortable drawing.
First, voters punished Modi for putting his Hindu nationalist agenda ahead of fixing India’s unequal economy. Second, Indian voters had some real concerns about the decline of liberal democracy under BJP rule. Third, the opposition parties waged a smart campaign that took advantage of Modi’s vulnerabilities on the economy and democracy.
Understanding these factors isn’t just important for Indians. The country’s election has some universal lessons for how to beat a would-be authoritarian — ones that Americans especially might want to heed heading into its election in November.
-via Vox, June 7, 2024. Article continues below.
A new (and unequal) economy
Modi’s biggest and most surprising losses came in India’s two most populous states: Uttar Pradesh in the north and Maharashtra in the west. Both states had previously been BJP strongholds — places where the party’s core tactic of pitting the Hindu majority against the Muslim minority had seemingly cemented Hindu support for Modi and his allies.
One prominent Indian analyst, Yogendra Yadav, saw the cracks in advance. Swimming against the tide of Indian media, he correctly predicted that the BJP would fall short of a governing majority.
Traveling through the country, but especially rural Uttar Pradesh, he prophesied “the return of normal politics”: that Indian voters were no longer held spellbound by Modi’s charismatic nationalist appeals and were instead starting to worry about the way politics was affecting their lives.
Yadav’s conclusions derived in no small part from hearing voters’ concerns about the economy. The issue wasn’t GDP growth — India’s is the fastest-growing economy in the world — but rather the distribution of growth’s fruits. While some of Modi’s top allies struck it rich, many ordinary Indians suffered. Nearly half of all Indians between 20 and 24 are unemployed; Indian farmers have repeatedly protested Modi policies that they felt hurt their livelihoods.
“Everyone was talking about price rise, unemployment, the state of public services, the plight of farmers, [and] the struggles of labor,” Yadav wrote...
“We know for sure that Modi’s strongman image and brassy self-confidence were not as popular with voters as the BJP assumed,” says Sadanand Dhume, a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute who studies India.
The lesson here isn’t that the pocketbook concerns trump identity-based appeals everywhere; recent evidence in wealthier democracies suggests the opposite is true. Rather, it’s that even entrenched reputations of populist leaders are not unshakeable. When they make errors, even some time ago, it’s possible to get voters to remember these mistakes and prioritize them over whatever culture war the populist is peddling at the moment.
Liberalism strikes back
The Indian constitution is a liberal document: It guarantees equality of all citizens and enshrines measures designed to enshrine said equality into law. The signature goal of Modi’s time in power has been to rip this liberal edifice down and replace it with a Hindu nationalist model that pushes non-Hindus to the social margins. In pursuit of this agenda, the BJP has concentrated power in Modi’s hands and undermined key pillars of Indian democracy (like a free press and independent judiciary).
Prior to the election, there was a sense that Indian voters either didn’t much care about the assault on liberal democracy or mostly agreed with it. But the BJP’s surprising underperformance suggests otherwise.
The Hindu, a leading Indian newspaper, published an essential post-election data analysis breaking down what we know about the results. One of the more striking findings is that the opposition parties surged in parliamentary seats reserved for members of “scheduled castes” — the legal term for Dalits, the lowest caste grouping in the Hindu hierarchy.
Caste has long been an essential cleavage in Indian politics, with Dalits typically favoring the left-wing Congress party over the BJP (long seen as an upper-caste party). Under Modi, the BJP had seemingly tamped down on the salience of class by elevating all Hindus — including Dalits — over Muslims. Yet now it’s looking like Dalits were flocking back to Congress and its allies. Why?
According to experts, Dalit voters feared the consequences of a BJP landslide. If Modi’s party achieved its 400-seat target, they’d have more than enough votes to amend India’s constitution. Since the constitution contains several protections designed to promote Dalit equality — including a first-in-the-world affirmative action system — that seemed like a serious threat to the community. It seems, at least based on preliminary data, that they voted accordingly.
The Dalit vote is but one example of the ways in which Modi’s brazen willingness to assail Indian institutions likely alienated voters.
Uttar Pradesh (UP), India’s largest and most electorally important state, was the site of a major BJP anti-Muslim campaign. It unofficially kicked off its campaign in the UP city of Ayodhya earlier this year, during a ceremony celebrating one of Modi’s crowning achievements: the construction of a Hindu temple on the site of a former mosque that had been torn down by Hindu nationalists in 1992.
Yet not only did the BJP lose UP, it specifically lost the constituency — the city of Faizabad — in which the Ayodhya temple is located. It’s as direct an electoral rebuke to BJP ideology as one can imagine.
In Maharashtra, the second largest state, the BJP made a tactical alliance with a local politician, Ajit Pawar, facing serious corruption charges. Voters seemingly punished Modi’s party for turning a blind eye to Pawar’s offenses against the public trust. Across the country, Muslim voters turned out for the opposition to defend their rights against Modi’s attacks.
The global lesson here is clear: Even popular authoritarians can overreach.
By turning “400 seats” into a campaign slogan, an all-but-open signal that he intended to remake the Indian state in his illiberal image, Modi practically rang an alarm bell for constituencies worried about the consequences. So they turned out to stop him en masse.
The BJP’s electoral underperformance is, in no small part, the direct result of their leader’s zealotry going too far.
Return of the Gandhis?
Of course, Modi’s mistakes might not have mattered had his rivals failed to capitalize. The Indian opposition, however, was far more effective than most observers anticipated.
Perhaps most importantly, the many opposition parties coordinated with each other. Forming a united bloc called INDIA (Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance), they worked to make sure they weren’t stealing votes from each other in critical constituencies, positioning INDIA coalition candidates to win straight fights against BJP rivals.
The leading party in the opposition bloc — Congress — was also more put together than people thought. Its most prominent leader, Rahul Gandhi, was widely dismissed as a dilettante nepo baby: a pale imitation of his father Rajiv and grandmother Indira, both former Congress prime ministers. Now his critics are rethinking things.
“I owe Rahul Gandhi an apology because I seriously underestimated him,” says Manjari Miller, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.
Miller singled out Gandhi’s yatras (marches) across India as a particularly canny tactic. These physically grueling voyages across the length and breadth of India showed that he wasn’t just a privileged son of Indian political royalty, but a politician willing to take risks and meet ordinary Indians where they were. During the yatras, he would meet directly with voters from marginalized groups and rail against Modi’s politics of hate.
“The persona he’s developed — as somebody kind, caring, inclusive, [and] resolute in the face of bullying — has really worked and captured the imagination of younger India,” says Suryanarayan. “If you’ve spent any time on Instagram Reels, [you’ll see] an entire generation now waking up to Rahul Gandhi’s very appealing videos.”
This, too, has a lesson for the rest of the world: Tactical innovation from the opposition matters even in an unfair electoral context.
There is no doubt that, in the past 10 years, the BJP stacked the political deck against its opponents. They consolidated control over large chunks of the national media, changed campaign finance law to favor themselves, suborned the famously independent Indian Electoral Commission, and even intimidated the Supreme Court into letting them get away with it.
The opposition, though, managed to find ways to compete even under unfair circumstances. Strategic coordination between them helped consolidate resources and ameliorate the BJP cash advantage. Direct voter outreach like the yatra helped circumvent BJP dominance in the national media.
To be clear, the opposition still did not win a majority. Modi will have a third term in office, likely thanks in large part to the ways he rigged the system in his favor.
Yet there is no doubt that the opposition deserves to celebrate. Modi’s power has been constrained and the myth of his invincibility wounded, perhaps mortally. Indian voters, like those in Brazil and Poland before them, have dealt a major blow to their homegrown authoritarian faction.
And that is something worth celebrating.
-via Vox, June 7, 2024.
#india#narendra modi#pm modi#modi#bjp#lok sabha elections#rahul gandhi#democracy#2024 elections#authoritarianism#anti authoritarian#good news#hope
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— sunday x gn reader
In which no one believes you and Sunday are actually dating.
crossposted on AO3 ft. gallagher, aventurine, firefly, robin, sunday fluff, established relationship, everyone thinks reader is just being parasocial about sunday lmao, not a lot of sunday screentime for an x sunday fic oops
You took a sip of your drink, leaning on the bar. “So…” Gallagher started, getting you to look in his direction. “Anything happen with you and your ‘boyfriend’ lately?” The sarcasm in Gallagher’s voice didn’t evade you, but you chose to ignore it and answer in earnest.
“Yes, actually. We had a lovely dessert date the other day. Sunday got a strawberry sundae—heh—and I got a banana split. It was really good, actually. We were thinking of visiting again,” you smiled, thinking about your recent date. You chuckled a bit, remembering how Sunday flustered when you wiped a bit of ice cream off of his cheek.
“Uhuh.” Gallagher looked at you with clear disbelief with an undercurrent of… was that pity?
You deadpanned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Gallagher sucked in a breath and set his drink down. He leaned in like he was about to deliver some devastating news to you. “Listen, bud—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“—I hate to break it to you, but just because you happened to be in the same restaurant as Sunday does not mean you were on a date.”
You stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”
Gallagher’s face contorted. “What’s that supposed to—No way you actually think that constitutes a date.”
“Wha—no! What do you take me for? I’m saying I’m telling the truth about us being on an actual, normal date. Not that…stalker stuff you’re insinuating.”
Seemingly giving up, Gallagher leaned back. “Whatever you say.”
You grumbled, “I’ll prove it to you, I swear!”
“His hair is so fluffy, Aven. I want to fluff his hair so badly.” You held your hands in front of you, mimicking patting the soft, blue hair of your boyfriend. “Ugh, and his wings! They look so soft.”
Aventurine nodded along. “They do, don’t they?”
You put your head in your hands. “I miss my wife, Aven. I miss him a lot.”
Aventurine laughed and pat your shoulder. “If you miss him that much, maybe you should start taking fancams or something.” You snickered. “Maybe I should.”
“Here’s a start for your fancam adventures,” Aventurine leaned in with a sly smirk. “Did you see that interview he appeared on recently?”
“Yes I did!” You clasped your hands together, stars in your eyes. “Whoever was in charge of lighting really knew what they were doing! He was practically glowing,” you gushed.
Aventurine grinned. “Right?”
You dramatically leaned into his side, pulling a hand to your forehead. “He’s just so pretty, Aven! I can’t take it.”
Aventurine chuckled. “He is rather handsome.” Deciding to match you in your theatrics, he put a hand to his heart with a little flourish. “I envy whoever manages to score him. Why, I might just keel over from heartbreak at the loss!”
“Well, I guess you should get ready, then.” You crossed your arms, shooting a smug look at your companion.
He sputtered and looked at you incredulously. “I—pardon?”
“I’ll have you know that Sunday and I have been dating for—” Aventurine cut you off, putting his hands on your shoulders.
He muttered something along the lines of, “not this again,” before saying your name somewhat solemnly, his brow slightly creased in concern. “Do you really think Sunday’s your boyfriend??”
You gave him an indignant look. “I don’t think, Aven, I know.”
Aventurine wiped away an imaginary tear. “Damn, I didn’t know you were parasocial like that.”
“I will punch you.”
You skipped down the streets of the Golden Hour, Firefly trailing after you.
“I’m so excited for tonight!” You beamed.
Firefly looked at you inquisitively. “Oh? What’s happening tonight?”
You did a giddy little hop and spun around to face her, “I get to spend time with my lovely boyfriend!”
Firefly’s eyes slightly widened in surprise as she gasped. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend! Who is it?”
At this point you both had stopped walking, pausing in some random street. You tilted your head and asked, “Eh? I didn’t tell you?” You put your hands on your hips with a proud smile. “Well, I’m dating Sunday!”
Firefly’s expression immediately changed to one you were becoming annoyingly familiar with. She opened and closed her mouth like she was trying to figure out how to break something to you.
Your tone turned flat. “What is it? What’s with the face?”
“I…” Firefly tried a few more starts before landing on, “Listen, I know you walked next to him that one time but I don’t think that means you’re dating…” She trailed off, chuckling nervously.
You slumped, Firefly letting out a little “ah” at the motion.
“Oh come on, I’ve walked—and talked!—with him on multiple occasions. Wait, that’s not the point. Do you not believe me either?” You frowned, beginning to resemble a kicked puppy.
Firefly waved her hands around slightly panicked, “Well, it’s not like I don’t believe you!” She paused and mumbled, “Actually I guess it is…” Shaking her head, she turned back to you. “It’s just… I know you and Robin are friendly and all—”
“What.”
“—but I don’t think that automatically extends to Sunday, y’know? Especially to the degree of a romantic relationship.”
You stared at Firefly incredulously. Bringing your hands up to your face, you sighed. “Why does no one believe I’m being genuine when I say Sunday and I are dating?”
“Maybe because it just sounds so unbelievable?”
You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “But why though??”
Firefly simply gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder.
You were practically draped over Sunday, lamenting over the fact that no one believed you when you said Sunday was your boyfriend, even after all this time. Sunday pat your head in consolation as Robin tittered. “Well, on the bright side, they’ll have to believe you after tonight!”
You sunk into Sunday’s shoulder. “I guess…”
Sunday pressed a kiss to your head. “Look alive, dear. Like Robin said, they won’t be able to refute it next you see them.” He paused. “Well, I suppose that depends on if they’re watching or not.”
You perked up at that. “Actually, I told them to watch this interview, so they should see it. I expect at least 10 texts the second I show up on screen.” You held your phone up and waved it. “And if they don’t watch it live, I’m gonna send them a recording. That way they have to acknowledge our relationship!”
Sunday chuckled. “That’s so like you.”
At that moment, someone in the film crew alerted you all to get ready. Sunday gave you a squeeze, leading you over to the filming area, Robin walking at your other side. The three of you smiled (yours a little less practiced) at the interviewer as you approached. After exchanging pleasantries, the film crew started the countdown to go live.
“Three!” Robin gave you a soft smile and a nod, which you returned.
“Two!” Sunday adjusted his hold to your waist, pulling you a bit closer.
“One!” You turned your gaze to the camera.
“And we’re live!”
The interviewer immediately greeted the camera. “Good evening, Penacony! Thanks for tuning in for today’s exclusive interview! Today I have with me everyone’s favorite pop star, Robin!”
Robin gave a charming smile and waved at the camera. “Hello everyone! I’m so glad to be here!”
“Charismatic as always! Along with her, we have the esteemed head of the Oak Family, Sunday!”
Sunday nodded and gave a placid smile. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
“The pleasure is all mine! And last but not least, we have a special guest! Care to introduce yourself?”
You greeted the camera and stated your name. “Nice to meet you!”
“How charming! For those of you wondering, if you haven’t guessed their identity already… Why don’t you introduce them, Sunday?”
“With pleasure.” Sunday pulled you in and kissed your cheek. “They’re my significant other.”
As expected, your phone started buzzing incessantly, making you grin. You glanced at the screen, seeing glimpses of texts along the lines of ‘YOU’RE ACTUALLY DATING???’ and ‘NO WAY YOU WERE TELLING THE TRUTH’ before they were quickly replaced with more texts and even a few calls (mostly from Aventurine). You smirked, silencing your phone and returning your attention to the interview.
#lunecosm#tales from the library🌙#sunday x reader#sunday x you#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#sunday honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail
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taylorswift: In summation We have officially wrapped the European leg of The Eras Tour. With it came the most passionate crowds I’ve ever played for, new traditions in the show, and an entirely new era added in. It was a more hectic pace than we’d done before, and I’m so proud of my crew/fellow performers for being able to physically perform that show and build our massive stage, take it apart, and make magic with so few days in between for recovery and travel. They’re the most impressive people I know and I’m so lucky they gave The Eras Tour their time, their energy, and their expertise. Walking onstage in London was a rollercoaster of emotions. Having our Vienna shows cancelled was devastating. The reason for the cancellations filled me with a new sense of fear, and a tremendous amount of guilt because so many people had planned on coming to those shows. But I was also so grateful to the authorities because thanks to them, we were grieving concerts and not lives. I was heartened by the love and unity I saw in the fans who banded together. I decided that all of my energy had to go toward helping to protect the nearly half a million people I had coming to see the shows in London. My team and I worked hand in hand with stadium staff and British authorities every day in pursuit of that goal, and I want to thank them for everything they did for us. Let me be very clear: I am not going to speak about something publicly if I think doing so might provoke those who would want to harm the fans who come to my shows. In cases like this one, ‘silence’ is actually showing restraint, and waiting to express yourself at a time when it’s right to. My priority was finishing our European tour safely, and it is with great relief that I can say we did that. And then London felt like a beautiful dream sequence. All five crowds at Wembley Stadium were bursting with passion, joy, and exuberance. The energy in that stadium was like the most giant bear hug from 92,000 people each night, and it brought me back to a place of carefree calm up there.
We had some EPIC surprise performances from my long time friends teddysphotos, florenceandthemachine, and jackantonoff. Performing ‘Florida!!!’ with Flo for the first time was unforgettable and Ed took me right back to our old Red Tour memories. It was the most dizzying honor to become the first solo artist to play Wembley 8 times in one tour. To the fans who have seen us this summer, you’ll always have the most sparkling place in my memories. You were a dream to perform for, dance with, and share those magical moments with. We’ll see you all again when we resume The Eras Tour in October, but for now we get to take a much needed rest. Thank you for the adventure of a lifetime. May it continue… 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍
(August 21, 2024)
#taylor swift#the eras tour#instagram#august 21#taylorswift#the eras tour europe#the eras tour london
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Love and beauty
Summary: A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.
Musings on beauty, love and death.
Word count: 1.3k
Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Non-ascended Astarion. References to bereavement.
AO3 link
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You are lying on your side, looking at Astarion. Here at the Elfsong Tavern, morning is rousing from its slumber. You are cocooned in the bed you have shared with him since the night he took you to his grave. The sheets are warm and soft beneath you, and in their burgundy shadows, his skin glows like porcelain. He lies on his back, his silver eyelashes fanning out below his closed eyes like silk. His crown is a white maze of waves. Just recently you have noticed the faint threads which form around his mouth and eyes when he laughs, slight indents where his eyebrows meet his nose when he is focused. And sometimes, barely perceptible dimples dance on his cheeks.
You never tire of looking at him. There is always something new to see, and you never know how long you have left to see it.
“I can feel you staring at me.” A lazy eye opens and fixes on you. “Has no one ever told you that it’s rude to stare?”
There is mischief in his smile, and you return it. You run your fingers over his collarbone. He shifts his chin closer to your hand.
“I can’t help it.”
He stretches, long and languid, a fang peeking out on his lower lip.
“I know, darling.” He turns onto his side to face you. “It’s why you’re here. You can’t get enough of my devastating beauty.”
The words carry no edge. He is still himself, not the masked imitation. He twirls his fingers around a strand of your hair as it caresses your shoulder.
“You are devastatingly beautiful, it’s true.” You play with a curl at his temple, tracing the edge of his ear. You consider for a moment. “But you know, all of that… it only goes so far.”
“Oh?” He regards you quizzically.
“Well…” You turn the thoughts over in your mind. “I’m human, Astarion. Even humans blessed with devasting, soul-crushing beauty, like yours – most of us don’t live that long. We get old and grey. We get wrinkles.”
He scrunches his nose. You laugh.
“I know, disgusting, those wrinkles. But when you have to contend with ageing, and with death… it’s different.”
You are not sure he understands what you are saying. You yourself are not entirely sure.
You nuzzle your nose into his. He slides his arm under your head, circling it around your shoulder. You curl into his chest. There is a silence, but it is so light, like being bathed in morning sun.
Maybe it is because every day draws you closer to the Netherbrain. Or maybe it is because he has shown you where he died, and has shared with you his rebirth. Now, you feel the last bastion inside you can come down. This last pearl you have hidden from him, you can now give, trusting he will not cast it away.
“I had a husband once,” you say.
You have not spoken about him for a long time. It surprises you that it does not hurt anymore to mention him. To remember.
“It was a lifetime ago now. He was beautiful too, when we met. Though nowhere near as beautiful as you.” You brush your lips across Astarion’s skin. “He was smart. He had a way with words. And he was kind.”
You are relieved that Astarion does not say anything. He does not tense in shock or anger. There is no judgment. He only listens, holding you.
“He actually looked a lot like Gale. Sometimes when he speaks, Gale even sounds like him.”
Astarion bristles at this. “So you’re telling me that one of our travelling companions, one of our closest allies and friends, is the spitting image of the love of your life? And you’re telling me this, why?”
You are not entirely surprised by his reaction. And maybe you find it endearing that Astarion could feel even a prickling of jealousy about a man you loved and lost so long ago. You chuckle, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the curve of his jaw. He eases with a huff.
“This isn’t the point of my story.”
“Well, you best get to it soon,” he shoots back, but he does not pull back his embrace.
There is a softness, a playfulness, to his irritation. You nibble his ear lobe gently and he sighs. He waits. You go on.
“He was a lot older than me. When he got sick, I took care of him. He died in his sleep. I laid him to rest. By that point, he was an old man. And he’d lived a good life.”
You remember your husband’s face through a haze. His papery skin, so thin you could tear it by mere touch. Frosted hazel eyes, and snaking veins on hands that you clasped so tightly against your wet face after he had breathed his last. The years of love that had filled the hole he left, buoying you through the grief.
“There’s something about that kind of love. Through age, and sickness, and everything in between. The long and boring days. The petty arguments. The stupid things we joked about. Everything we shared together.”
You heart fills as you speak of him. There is no more sorrow when you think of him now, only gratitude.
“I loved him till the end. That kind of love - it went well beyond his beauty.”
Astarion is quiet and still for a long time. When he moves back to look at you, you cannot read his gaze.
“But I won’t age,” he says. “I won’t die.”
You nod.
“I’ll be like this forever.”
“Forever beautiful, forever young.” You glance at the scars and ripples of your flesh, and you cannot help but feel a pang of envy.
He frowns. In the pause that follows, you wonder where he has gone. You wish he could take you with him.
“How will I know, then?” he asks suddenly.
“Know what?”
“How will I know…” He struggles, as though each word is a heavy load. He clears his throat. “How will I know what kind of love it is?”
There is an emptiness in his eyes now, like a kind of sadness. A loss. You reach out and press your palm to his heart.
“Are you asking me whether I would still love you-“
“If I wasn’t beautiful.” He grimaces. “If I was old and grey, or sick, or…” He trails off briefly. “If I had wrinkles. Like Gale.”
You laugh, and you see that it gives him comfort. Because Astarion still cannot help but mask a plea with a jibe.
“What do you think?” you ask.
He hesitates. His eyes caress your face, drinking in every detail, every line and curve, every shadow and blemish. A balm spreads through you as he sees you, just as you see him, since the very first time you promised to be his mirror. You know he can see your answer.
But he is uncertain, and he is still afraid.
“Without a doubt, Astarion,” you breathe.
He turns away. You wait. It no longer weighs on you when he withdraws. You know now that he will always return. You will give him time, now. You will give him space. He will come back when he is ready.
But then, so abruptly, he clasps you against him. You are enveloped in the coolness of his skin, the warm wetness of his mouth, the blanket of his body around you. The moment is a world in itself, swirling and gathering and expanding, holding you fast.
It ends as it began. You lie there, tracing circles in each other’s souls. Morning has broken, and muffled voices are bustling through the bedroom walls. Slowly, you edge to the side of the bed, and he rises to join you.
“I don’t think he was the love of my life, by the way.” You say it like an afterthought, but it is not.
“I damn well hope not,” he counters, sharp and fast.
But the gentleness in his gaze tells you all you need to know.
---
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#astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion fic#astarion x reader#astarion x female tav#astarion romance#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#astarion x tav#astarion one shot
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I need to rant about the Fallout show
Because this is the person I am. Full spoilers, so I’m putting it behind a Keep Reading:
I’m a huge sucker for Fallout (yes even 3&4). And I went into the Fallout show with some… trepidation. Amazon has been a mixed bag on adaptations, we could have been blessed with a Good Omens, or cursed by a Rings of Power. But early buzz and reviews seemed positive, so I slammed the whole thing in one night with my spouse (we were staying at my in-laws house and they have Prime. Time was a factor.)
And y’know? I was really enjoying it! The characters were fun, the plot was engaging enough, and the costumes and visual design were extremely on point. There were some minor lore quibbles to be had: Ghouls needing some kind of medicine to not go feral. Really, more Enclave holdouts? Timeline and date whoopsies. Wait are they in California? Where the hell is the NCR?
I made a face at Shady Sands being bombed and the NCR collapsing. But I wasn’t completely out of the story. Based on what I had seen so far, I thought it was building to a reveal that the Brotherhood had done it. That the more zealous turn they took in Fallout 4, which has clearly carried to how they are portrayed in the show, lead them to bombing the NCR. War never changes, as they say. Maximus even says when asked what happened to Shady Sands: “The same thing that always happens.” Yeah, it leans into Bethesda’s weird desire to keep the Fallout world in a state of perpetual wastelands full of raiders and no civilization, but it wasn’t so terrible that I couldn’t still enjoy the show.
But then.
BUT THEN.
Episode 8, and the reveal of Vault-Tec apparently being the ones who dropped the first bomb in the Great War.
I was surprised to hear that some fans have apparently been debating over who fired first? Some even asked Tim Cain about it?
That’s really odd to me because, in the games, there is already a pretty definitive answer to which side sparked the Great War:
Who fucking cares?
The world ended. What does it matter who shot first?
There is no China, no United States, no communists or capitalists left to fight about it.
It's a powerful little bit of lore.
For all the posturing, all the promises from each nation that their way is the true way, all the nationalism, the militarism, and blind loyalty to flags over humanity, they both lost. Everyone lost. All that remains of the ideologies and nations that were so important to the people of 2077 is faint echoes over vast expanses of radioactive ash.
Who started the end?
No one knows. No one cares.
It only matters that their conflict was so bitter, so all-consuming, that one of them dropped their bombs, and the other dropped theirs in return.
The truest legacy of the old world is the devastation left by their final, most horrific war.
Can we do better?
Then the show says "Nah, Vault-Tec did it. It's not a commentary on human nature and the futility of self-destructive conflict, it was actually these guys, these mustache twirling villains huddled in a darkened room literally plotting to end the whole world so they can rule what's left."
And I can see the attempt to make this a critique of capitalism. I actually paused the show to praise a bit of writing when Coop is talking with Charlie before the war, when Charlie tells him that the “cattle ranchers are in charge” to illustrate how capitalism and corporations hold too much sway over the government, it felt very in line with how in New Vegas one of the recurring critiques of the NCR is that all the real power is in the hands of the “brahmin barons.” Nice parallel, spot on!
But “we’ll set off total thermonuclear war so we can rule the ashes and have a True Monopoly” isn’t capitalism. It’s just dumb “we’re the baddies” writing.
And then Shady Sands was also Vault-Tec?! Forget any meaning in the NCR falling to the same corruption and/or factional fighting that consumed the old world, they were literally just bombed by the evil shadow conspiracy that apparently also killed the old world. Hank gives this speech about factions fighting and the futility of it all while we see the Brotherhood fighting Moldaver’s NCR remnant, and like, no! You can’t say that when you’ve made it so neither the old world or the NCR fell to war with another faction! It was you! You and your band of cryogenic supervillains!
I don't care that they changed it. Timelines and dates and little retcons don’t bother me all that much. I care that they changed it to something so much worse.
#fallout#fallout tv show#fallout spoilers#nerdy rant about shit that doesn't actually matter but has been stewing in my head for a week now
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hate that I love you II Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader
masterlist I word count: 1759
a/n: we hope you enjoy reading the oneshot, we'd love to hear your thoughts on it. <3
warnings: slight smut in the middle, a bit of angst, but with a happy ending.🖤
“Ana!”, Keira shouted the name of your former Barca teammate, after the English midfielder has spotted the Swiss woman in the crowd.
The Champions league final was over, your team has won the title a second time in a row. But the celebratory mood you were in just a few seconds ago was gone at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. It made your blood turn cold.
“Ale, what the hell is Ana doing here? Who even invited her?”, you asked your captain furiously.
In an instant, she noticed your change of mood, that was why the midfielder replied cautiously:” I think some of the girls did or she just came to visit.”
“Oh, wow.”, you huffed, trying to get as far away from your former lover as possible. Seems like you weren’t that lucky this evening in Bilbao, she already had set her eyes on you, calling your name.
“Hi, y/n.”
“Ana. Sorry, but I got to go.”, you lied, while walking into the direction to the changing rooms.
“Where’s she going?”, Ana questioned as she was slowly following you..
“Isn’t that obvious? You broke up with her.”, Alexia reminded the taller woman.
“She still didn’t have to run away.”, the Swiss player mumbled, the hurt was written all over her face.
Meanwhile Keira who has been quiet after hugging her enthusiastically, joined their conversation with a low voice:” No but you ran away first, remember?”
“I didn’t. It was better that way.”, Ana corrected the English woman, before she headed into the changing room where you were standing all by yourself. The party was heading somewhere else already.
You heard her last words loud and clear: ”No, it wasn’t, you’ve chosen the cowardly way after almost four years of being together. You acted like that time meant nothing to you.”
Finally, you got the chance to tell her how devasted you were about her sudden move to Madrid.
“That’s not true. It wouldn’t have worked out long distance and you know that.”, the Swiss player disagreed.
“No, I don’t know that actually, because we never tried it!”, you protested.
“Yeah, sure. You were pouting because I left the team.”, Ana rolled her eyes annoyed at you.
Her behaviour only fed the anger you felt inside.
“Yes, because you told me those transfer news a day before you left for the capitol.”
“Because I knew you’d be pouting.”, she shot back, almost stumbling over the empty champagne bottles which were left on the ground.
This moment felt almost like a symbol of your failed relationship as it started golden, perfect even, with your first ever champions league win during the covid period, and the following wins, which abruptly ended in shattered hopes and dreams.
You tore your gaze away from the champagne bottles and looked straight at Ana.
“Oh.“, you said, your jaw set. “Sorry that you meant something to me. What a fool I was. Hope you’re happy now.“
Anas face changed from a slight moment to confusion to immediate annoyance: “Oh my god, you can be so damn dramatic!“
“Why are you even here? You ruined a perfect final with your presence.“, you spat back.
Anas eyes sparkled with furiousness: “Oh I’m sorry. Sorry that my friends are still here and that this team still means something to me!“
You were taking aback by how loud her voice had gotten but you kept glaring at her: “Fine. Go and celebrate with them. But leave me alone!“
All of a sudden, you felt Anas weight on you as she pinned you against the wall of the changing room. You had to suppress a surprised shriek.
Ana tilted her head, her lips curved in the smallest hint of a smirk: “Or what?“
“Get your hands off of me!“, you said through gritted teeth.
“Make me.“, your ex-girlfriend challenged you.
In a heartbeat you leaned forward, pressing your lips onto Anas. Just when she started to return the kiss, you bit down hard on her lower lip.
She pulled back: “Hey!“
“Can I go now?“, you asked impatiently.
“No.“
You locked eyes with her again. Your voice was pure ice when you replied. “I hate you so much…“
Anas hand found its way into your ponytail, pulling on it roughly.
You hissed.
“Say that again.“, Ana ordered.
“What? I hate that I still love you…“
Anas grip on your hair loosened. “I know you do.“
“What about you?“, you asked. You hated that your voice still sounded so hopeful when you only wanted to despise the woman in front of you.
Your ex ignored your question deliberately. “You need to shut up now.“
“Go on.“
“I’ll.“
And suddenly, her lips were on yours again. Her body pressed so hard against your own that you could feel her heat on your skin. You kissed back with hunger while Ana shoved her thigh between your legs. Biting back a moan, you began to move against her.
Anas hands, in the meantime, had slipped under your jersey, exploring your skin with the lightest touch.
You knew you should not but you could not stop yourself. It was as if your body had taken control, taking what it had craved for so long.
Ana was in the motion of finally pulling your jersey over your head and your body tingled with excitement, when the door to the changing room was opened.
“Girls, we’re going to party!“, Keiras voice announced, before stopping herself. “Oh, seems like you already started.“
“Come back later.”, the Swiss woman told the midfielder in a casual tone as if the redhead couldn’t see the messy state, you two were in.
“See you girls.”, she muttered and closed the door again much to your own relief.
“Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”, you mumbled against the older player’s chest.
“Whatever. As if she cares.”, Ana shrugged.
“Right, Laura will distract her from what she just saw.”, you smirked while you thought about the happy couple.
“I’m sure.”, the blonde nodded.
“Thank god.”, you sighed, forever gratefully for the Austrian footballer.
“She came in at the worst time though. I was just getting into it.”, the older woman whispered into your ear, although you couldn’t see her face you could hear from her voice that she was smiling.
“Need a reminder where we stopped?”, you looked up to her, eyes sparkling.
“No. Come here.”, Ana shook her head, before continuing what she started, her touches even hungrier than before.
In between you put your hand on her body middle to stop her, asking the one question which was burning hot on your tongue:” Did you miss me in Madrid?”
“Of course. Every day.”, the Swiss player answered truthfully.
“When why didn’t you say everything? You were multiple times in Barcelona.”, you pressed on.
“You know why.”, she responded quietly, while tucking in a loose string of the hair behind your ear.
“Because it would have made it worse.”, you replied.
“But it was worth to wait.”, Ana said winking, alluding to the fun you had only minutes earlier.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”, you laughed at her playful mood.
“Maybe I’m.”, she admitted seriously.
“To be fair so am I.”, you confessed, remembering how the blonde was till able to make your legs go weak.
“Looks like we both are.”, the Swiss woman smiled sadly. There was a melancholy air surrounding your ex-lover and you which couldn’t be waved off.
“Yes, seems like it.”, you agreed.
“So.. want to continue making out or..?”, Ana quickly distracted you from the thoughts which tinted everything sepia coloured like it was a moment from the past, but actually everything what happened was in the present.
“No, let’s stop talking and continue kissing.”, you decided, while turning your words into actions. She gladly obliged to your decision.
In the morning you awoke to Alexia’s cheerful voice, of course your captain was already up:” Y/n, wake up, we got to go!”
Your heart sank when you turned your head to Ana whose eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around you:” Ana? I’ve to leave.”
“Okay, Barca needs you, I understand that.”, she responded, although the older woman hasn’t let you go yet.
The light of the sun fell through the curtain and gave everything it touched a warm glow including her.
“You can sleep a little longer.”, you offered her heavy-hearted.
“No.“, Ana said. Her voice was still a little hoarse from the sleep but she sounded determined.
“No?“, you echoed.
Ana pulled you closer, whispering into your ear: “I’ll think that I only dreamed this.“
“But it was real.“, you replied, studying her face thoroughly.
With a sigh, she finally let go of you. “Visit me in Madrid.“
A slight smile tugged on your lips as you crawled out of bed: “I’ll. See you there.“
Ana watched you while you got dressed: “Hopefully soon.“
“Promise.“, you said before you grabbed your bag and were out the door.
You could feel her gaze linger on your back as you left.
Alexia was already waiting for you. You were unable to interpret the look on her face but she was eyeing you cautiously as though she was searching for a hint.
When you approached her, she only let out a breath: “You girls.“
You rolled your eyes: “Don’t say anything, Alexia.“
Your captain remained unimpressed by that. Instead, she shrugged with a smirk: “I have to.“
“Fine but quick.“, you gave in. All you wanted to do was go home to Barcelona and sort your thoughts.
Alexias smile grew wider: “You’re the same kind of idiots.“
“Rude.“, you said, more amused than offended.
“It’s true.“
“Maybe a bit… She asked me to visit her in Madrid.“, you admitted quietly.
Your teammate nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised: “She means it. You two miss each other.“
“I hate that I love her…“
“You can hate it all you want but you need her.“, Alexia replied calmly.
“You’re right.“
You had to finally admit it, your captain knew you better than anyone else on the team. Maybe she was right. Maybe all the hatred and pain you had felt had been unnecessary. Maybe there was an easy solution to this ache you felt in your chest.
That was how you found yourself in Madrid on your next free day. Your heart thumped against your chest as you waited on Anas door step.
Finally, the door opened and her face appeared in the gap.
“Hi.“, you said softly.
A smile of pleasant surprise appeared on Anas lips. “Hi. Come in.“
#ana maria crnogorcevic imagine#ana maria crnogorcevic x reader#ana maria crnogorcevic#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#woso community#woso one shot#woso oneshot#barca femeni#keira walsh#alexia putellas#woso smut#atletico madrid femenino
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High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 11.1k
Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex
Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.
Co-written with @pedropascalsx
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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.
The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.
Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.
The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar.
The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him?
After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.
****
Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.”
“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.
“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.”
Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door.
“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.”
The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.
“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”
“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.
You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.”
Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.
Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.”
Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.
You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”
Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”
“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”
He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.
“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’
“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”
“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”
Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”
“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”
“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”
“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”
“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”
He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.
“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”
“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”
“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”
Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”
“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”
He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.
“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.
****
Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.
“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”
“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”
“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”
“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”
“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”
He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”
“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”
Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.
“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.
“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”
“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”
“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.
“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”
Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.
The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.
“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”
“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.”
“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”
“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.
“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”
Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”
“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”
He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”
“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies�� Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”
“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”
Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”
“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”
“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”
“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”
“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.
“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.
“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”
He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”
“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”
“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.
“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”
“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.
“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”
“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”
“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.
“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.
“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”
You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”
“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”
“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.
****
“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.
“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”
“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”
“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”
“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”
“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”
“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.
“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”
“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.
“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door.
“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.
“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.”
“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”
“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”
Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.
Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs.
You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening.
‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’
Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’
You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’
Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’
‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’
‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.
‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.
****
The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.
You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.
Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”
“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”
“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”
“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”
“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”
“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”
“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.
“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.
“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.
“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”
“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.
“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”
“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.
“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is.
“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”
“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”
“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”
“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”
“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”
“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”
“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.
“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.
“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”
“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”
“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.”
Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”
You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.
****
The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”
“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.
Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”
“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”
“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”
“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.
****
“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast.
“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink.
“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.
Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.
You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.
Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”
“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night.
“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”
The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.
“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”
“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”
Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”
“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”
Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.
You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard.
‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”
“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”
He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.
You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look” around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”
“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.
“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”
Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”
“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”
“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”
“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones.
‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it.
Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”
Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”
You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys.
“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.
Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”
“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.
“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”
He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”
“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.
“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”
“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.
Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”
“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”
“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”
“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.”
Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"
“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”
“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”
You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him.
“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”
You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.
“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.
Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.
You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.
Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”
Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.
“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”
You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”
Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.
“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”
“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”
“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.
"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."
“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”
"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."
“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.
“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.
“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.
He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.
You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.
Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.
With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.
Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.
It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.
Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.
“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”
“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.
“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”
“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.
“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.
Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”
Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.
He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.
You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”
The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.
You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”
“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”
“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.
He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.
It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.
His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.
“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.
"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"
“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.
"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."
“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.
You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.
With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.
One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”
You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.
Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.
“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.
There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.
The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”
“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.
With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress.
Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.
“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.
“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.
“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”
Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.
You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.
“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”
“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”
Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.
“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.
“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.
You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.
Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”
You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”
“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back.
“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”
“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”
You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.
He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.
“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.
“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”
“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.”
“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”
“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”
“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”
“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”
“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.
“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”
“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”
“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”
“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.
“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.
“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.
Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.
****
[A year later]
Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.
He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.
The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.
It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.
#pedro pascal#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x f!reader#dave york smut#dave york fanfiction#dave york imagine#dave york fic#dave york equalizer 2
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taylorswift: In summation We have officially wrapped the European leg of The Eras Tour. With it came the most passionate crowds I’ve ever played for, new traditions in the show, and an entirely new era added in. It was a more hectic pace than we’d done before, and I’m so proud of my crew/fellow performers for being able to physically perform that show and build our massive stage, take it apart, and make magic with so few days in between for recovery and travel. They’re the most impressive people I know and I’m so lucky they gave The Eras Tour their time, their energy, and their expertise. Walking onstage in London was a rollercoaster of emotions. Having our Vienna shows cancelled was devastating. The reason for the cancellations filled me with a new sense of fear, and a tremendous amount of guilt because so many people had planned on coming to those shows. But I was also so grateful to the authorities because thanks to them, we were grieving concerts and not lives. I was heartened by the love and unity I saw in the fans who banded together. I decided that all of my energy had to go toward helping to protect the nearly half a million people I had coming to see the shows in London. My team and I worked hand in hand with stadium staff and British authorities every day in pursuit of that goal, and I want to thank them for everything they did for us. Let me be very clear: I am not going to speak about something publicly if I think doing so might provoke those who would want to harm the fans who come to my shows. In cases like this one, ‘silence’ is actually showing restraint, and waiting to express yourself at a time when it’s right to. My priority was finishing our European tour safely, and it is with great relief that I can say we did that. And then London felt like a beautiful dream sequence. All five crowds at Wembley Stadium were bursting with passion, joy, and exuberance. The energy in that stadium was like the most giant bear hug from 92,000 people each night, and it brought me back to a place of carefree calm up there.
We had some EPIC surprise performances from my long time friends @ teddysphotos, @ florenceandthemachine, and @ jackantonoff. Performing ‘Florida!!!’ with Flo for the first time was unforgettable and Ed took me right back to our old Red Tour memories. It was the most dizzying honor to become the first solo artist to play Wembley 8 times in one tour. To the fans who have seen us this summer, you’ll always have the most sparkling place in my memories. You were a dream to perform for, dance with, and share those magical moments with. We’ll see you all again when we resume The Eras Tour in October, but for now we get to take a much needed rest. Thank you for the adventure of a lifetime. May it continue… 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍
📷: TAS Rights Management
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hits different — ethan landry
word count: 1,464
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: ethan starts to feel insecure in his relationship with y/n so he breaks up with her, leaving her a mess for the first time.
author’s note: i literally wrote this in ten minutes. i don’t know why i write faster when it’s not a request 😫 i hate myself. i promise i’m working on the requests but i’m having writer’s block with them 😬.
Y/N HAD A REPUTATION THAT PRECEDED HER. She only had had one boyfriend, and moved on pretty quickly with another guy. She hadn’t been in a serious relationship since, just mere casual Kens she would switch and then ghost after a couple of weeks of dating.
Hence why Chad was so hesitant when the girl told him her and Ethan were going on a date. “Y/N, why him? He’s the sweetest guy ever, I don’t want you to break his heart”
“Chad, he’s not a baby” Y/N laughed. “He knows how this works, and he was the one who asked me out. So, relax”
“Fine, just be nice” Chad warned her.
“I’ll be extra nice” she winked, making him do a face of disgust.
“Ready?” Ethan asked nervously as he walked down the stairs. He was wearing one of his adorable collared shirts, jeans and a jacket. “You look beautiful”
“Thanks, Eth” she blushed, and Chad looked at her in surprise. Y/N blushing? That was new. “You look very handsome, as always”.
“Okay. Bring him before curfew, okay?” Chad said jokingly.
“Of course, sir. I’ll bring him before midnight” she followed the act.
“Stop it you two. Let’s go, Y/N/N” Ethan grabbed his date’s hand and led her through the door.
Soon after their date, they started dating. Everyone noticed there was something different with Y/N this time, she actually seemed invested in the relationship. No one could deny that sparks flew around the couple every time they were together.
As it had always been before, people still flirted with Y/N—only she didn’t seem to be interested. She would always brush everyone off. Yet, Ethan couldn’t help but feel insecure. In his eyes, everyone was a better match than him and he was waiting for the time Y/N would walk towards him and tell him their time was over. So, instead of being brave and express his fear, he chose the cowardly route and broke things off before she could.
Gossip travelled fast, and no one could believe it until Y/N’s appearance pretty much gave it away. No one had ever seen her in such devastating demeanour after a break-up.
“It’s okay, Y/N. Love is a lie, anyways” one of her friend told her. “There’s a party tomorrow, why don’t you come? It could help you get your mind off… things”.
Y/N sighed “I’ll think about it”.
SHE DID END UP GOING TO THE PARTY, ONLY TO WASH HER HANDS OFF THE MEMORIES OF THE FAILED RELATIONSHIP. She planned on gluing herself to the drink table and drown in alcohol until she could forget about the tall boy with brunette curls that haunted her mind all day.
“Oh, okay. Holy shit” Chad said when he caught her drinking a can of beer in one sip “He really made a mess of you” he whispered.
“What?” Y/N shouted, not being able to hear because of the music. “Wait… Chad! What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming”
“Oh, you’re very drunk, jesus” he muttered. “Yeah, I came with E-“ Chad stopped himself, definitely not a good idea to say his name.
But Y/N wasn’t dumb, she knew exactly what he was going to say “With Ethan. Where is he? No! Actually, please don’t tell me. I don’t want to know if he’s with other girl… but is he? Oh god, I’m going to throw up”
Chad held her hair as she kneeled in front the nearest toilet. “I’ve never seen you like this… moving on was always easy for you”
Y/N started crying “Because they were not him, Chad. It hits different because it’s Ethan”
“Okay, okay. You’ll be fine” he hugged her as she sobbed. “Where are your other friends? The ones you came with?”
“They left me, said I was slurring his name too much”
“Do you want to go home?” Chad asked.
She was about to respond when the tune that started to sound caught her attention. It was Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by Abba. The song she and Ethan always sang their lungs out to while they drove around the city. “They’re playing our song, Chad”
“Oh, god. We’re definitely going”
“Nothing has ever felt so wrong. Why did he break up with me? I though he would be the one” her glossy eyes and crest fallen expression made Chad feel sad.
“I don’t know, Y/N. I thought the same thing” Chad said in all honesty as he guided her to his car. He laid her on the backseats and closed the door.
“Chad? What are you doing?” Ethan looked at him confused. “You forced me to come to this party and now you’re leaving?”
“It’s an emergency”
“What’s wrong? Who is in the backseat?” Ethan asked confused.
“Um… it’s Y/N”
Ethan froze, the mention of her name made him vulnerable “Is she okay?”
“She’s just drunk… she threw up. I’m taking her home”
“I’m going with you” Ethan said, walking to the passenger seat.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t know why you broke up with her, and is not the best time to discuss it, but she’s hurting a lot”
“She is?” his voice already unstable.
“Yeah. Look, if you are coming to fix things, then get in. If you plan on going just to leave again, please don’t” Chad said. “I’m just going to say this, pretty much everyone in college noticed it, but she loves you, Ethan”.
Ethan didn’t hesitate to open the door and get inside the car. He had been stupid, but he was going to explain himself and hope Y/N would take him back.
Y/N WAS SLEEPING ON HER ROOM, AND ETHAN WAITED ALONE IN THE LIVING ROOM, REHEARSING THE SPEECH HE HAD MENTALLY PREPARED. And then his attention was caught by an artifact laying on the furniture, next to the TV. It was the necklace he had gifted her on her birthday, it had a locket the shape of a heart and inside was a picture of them. He took it in his hands delicately and cried. He cursed the space he thought he needed—he missed her more than words could describe.
“I cried over your hat the other day” Y/N’s voice resonated in the room. Ethan brushed the tears off and looked at her, even with her mascara all smudged and her messy hair, she was still the most gorgeous girl he had set his eyes on. “I suppose you’re here to talk… and although a part of me is just in desperate need of kicking you out, I want to know what went wrong. Because I’ve been trying to make it make sense ever since you walked out from here that night, but I just can’t”.
“That’s because you did nothing wrong. It’s all me, in my head” Ethan finally said, putting his hand on the cushion next to him, signalling her to sit down.
“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting next to him. It had been so long since they were this close. She missed those eyes and hair she had only been seeing in her dreams.
“I got insecure… every popular, handsome guy would flirt with you and I just thought… that’s it. Y/N is going to realize she’s out of my league and leave me. And I couldn’t bare to listen to that…”
“So you broke up with me?” Y/N asked in disbelief.
Ethan nodded, absolutely embarassed “I know I basically put you in jail for something you didn’t do. But the voices in my head were so loud… I’m sorry about how I handled things”
“I understand” she said after a while.
“You do?”
Y/N nodded “I just wished you’ve talked to me, so I could tell you that you’re the one that I want. I would’ve fought your doubts and show you that I love you, only you”
“I’m sorry that I hurt you” his voice broke. “Will you forgive me?”
“Only if you promise me you’ll come to me when you have these thoughts” she said, grabbing his hand.
“I promise” Ethan intertwined their fingers “Are you still mine?”
“I’m still yours” Y/N smiled and climbed onto his lap to give him a hug. They both cried in each other’s arms. “I love you, Eth”.
“I love you too” he smiled against her chest. “Not that I don’t enjoy your hugs, but why aren’t you kissing me right now?”
“Because I threw up a couple of times” she laughed. “I’m going to take a shower”.
“Okay, I’ll make you something to eat” Ethan smiled, not getting the hint.
“Babe, I’m kind of inviting you to join me”
And then Ethan took her hand and dragged her upstairs so fast they almost tripped.
#ethan landry#ethanlandry#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry drabble#ethan landry fic#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x reader#scream iv#scream fanfic#scream 6#scream movies
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A Baker's Dozen - One
Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.
Hello!
This is my first original fic after The Pilot and his Girl and it will be a very different read (just in case you're totally traumatised by The Pilot...😬)
Twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery. The plan is to post one chapter every Sunday night so hold me to that schedule when my procrastination kicks in!
Warnings won't be very serious, just lots of fluff, lots of food, some mention of drugs because you know some of these Pedro boys are just like that.
Series Master List
@harriedandharassed tagging you in this because you said you wanted to read anything new ❤❤❤
The drawback of being a baker is that your working day starts when others are still tucked in bed with hours left to sleep. Or just coming home from a party. But you don’t mind all that much, there’s a certain tranquil peace to being awake and working in the bakery while the rest of the world sleeps.
In the warmer months you prop open the back door so that you can hear the birds starting to sing as the sky slowly grows lighter outside, today is just one of those mornings.
The early morning radio show is on low in the background as you prepare the day. Yesterday's loaves have proofed overnight in the cold storage and are ready for the oven, the pie doughs taken out and softening while you prepare the cookie doughs.
People don’t often knock on the bakery's back door before you open for the day, but it happens, so when you suddenly hear someone shuffle and knock, you’re not surprised. Wiping your hands on your apron you turn the corner into the small back room. A man is leaning on the door frame, but not the sexy, romance novel leaning. No, this man is leaning in a ‘lean-or-fall-over’ kinda way. His eyes are covered by large black sunglasses that he pulls down as you spot him, a tired but cheeky smirk on his face.
“Hey, baker girl,” he grins, his voice gravelly like he’s chain smoked all night, “got any sna- oh whoops!” he giggles madly as he loses his balance and tumbles sideways, catching the other door frame before he grabs onto your arms and almost manages to stand up straight.
“You might need coffee, not snacks,” you say, holding onto him to stop him from falling face forward into your apron.
“I’m fine,” he grins, pushing himself upright again but still holding on to the door frame, “I just came from this party, were you there?,” he asks, giving you another over the glasses look, this time clearly checking you out as his eyes drag up and down your form, lingering on your pink crocs.
“Actually, I would’ve remembered if you were there, love the crocs,” he chuckles.
“What’s wrong with my crocs?” you ask, slightly offended, “They’re great for people like me, you know, people who actually work on Thursdays.”
“No, no, I mean it, I love your crocs!” the man says, wide eyed and shoving his glasses up in his wild curls, “I have like ten crocs, one pair is pink too.”
He furrows his eyebrows, giving you a confused look, “Wait, it’s Thursday?”
“Yeah, five am, Thursday morning,” you say, wondering how to get rid of this disheveled man so that you can get back to the cookie dough.
“Fuck, oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck….” the man groans, bending double and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I’m so fucked…I thought it was Wednesday.”
He stands up again and you can’t help but feel sorry for him, he looks devastated.
“I was meant to fly out to San Antonio yesterday and take my nice to Six Flags for her birthday, and I fucking missed it!”
He slumps against the door frame and thumps the back of his head against it repeatedly, moaning, “I’m such a fuck up, I’m such a fuck up.”
“Hey, take it easy, I’m sure it’ll be fine, just apologize and take her another day,” you say, putting your hand on the man’s arm to stop him from giving himself a concussion in your bakery, “I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“You think?” he says, “I’m not the best at remembering birthdays, I may have missed a few in the past.”
“Well, then she’ll be mad at you, but all you can do is apologize right? And try to make it up to her as best you can.”
“Yeah…yeah…maybe you’re right, thanks baker girl.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you notice the smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes, “How about those snacks? I’m fucking starving.”
You can’t help but laugh, the man’s a mess but somehow adorable at the same time with his wild hair and stained t-shirt.
“Sure, I’ll get you something, what do you like?”
“Do you have sausage rolls?” he asks, following you into the kitchen, “I fucking love sausage rolls.”
“What, like those things they made on the Great British Bake Off?” you reply, opening your walk in fridge to survey the snack options.
“Yeah, I did this movie once, in England, and there was a bakery next to my apartment and whenever I got back from a party, early morning, I’d knock on their back door and they’d sell me these fat sausage rolls, fresh from the oven, fucking amazing.”
“Sorry, no sausage rolls in this bakery,” you say, “but my cookies will be done soon, if you can wait.”
You turn back to the man and realize he’s wandering around the kitchen, sticking his nose in your bowls, sniffing loudly.
“Hey, don’t stick your finger in that,” you say, “Health and Safety are going to have my license if they catch you.”
“Sorry, I’ve just got the munchies, I’ve been high for like, two days,” he says, waving his arms around, “this place is torture for a high pers-OH! Do you know what I love?”
“No,” you sigh, exasperated, “I don’t know what you love.”
He completely misses your tone as he spins in a circle around the kitchen and you realize that he’s wearing what looks like very expensive pajama pants and no shoes, just socks.
“I love those…what do you call them, like…millionaire’s something?”
“Millionaire's shortbread?” you ask and he spins around to you with a big grin.
“Yes! Those! With like the chocolate and the peanut butter and they’re like the best Reese’s ever, only even more fucking amazing. Can you make those?” “I don’t know, maybe,” you begin and the man actually falls to his knees, shuffling over the floor to you.
“Please, I’ll do anything, I’m dying here, beautiful baker girl, make me happy!”
“Are you asking me to bake for you or proposing?” you laugh, this man is too ridiculous as he grins up at you.
“If you make them for me, I won’t marry you, but there are many other things I can do,” he says, pulling down his dark sunglasses from his head and winking at you from over the edge, his cheeky grin making it impossible to scowl at him.
“Fine, I’ll make them for you, just get up from my floor, please,” you say, reaching for his hand. He takes yours with a bright smile, kissing the back of it, before he stumbles to his feet and follows you over to your big workbench.
“I’m Dieter, by the way. Can I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the stool that stands next to the bench.
“Nice to meet you Dieter,” you say, “sure, go ahead, it’s got wheels on it though so be careful.”
“Awesome,” Dieter says and sits down, immediately speeding across the floor with a kick of his socked feet. He stops himself from crashing into the fridge door by grabbing on to the handle before he shoots off again, rolling all the way over to the open back door.
“Don’t fall out through the door please,” you call after him and you hear him giggle, a second later he comes spinning into the kitchen again.
“This thing is awesome, I need to buy one for my house.”
“Happy you’re enjoying yourself,” you laugh and walk to where yesterday’s bakes are stacked on trays. You’d made a layer of shortbread yesterday, you were planning on making lemon bars but Millionaire’s shortbread will work too. As you bring it over to your work station Dieter rolls past you and stops by the bench. “Can I help?” he asks, looking up at you, his sunglasses back in his messy hair. He’s kinda cute when you think about it, gorgeous brown eyes, and the smile he’s giving you is open and curious with an adorable dimple.
“Yeah, sure, you can be in charge of peanuts,” you say, walking over to the dry storage, “They need to be bashed into chunks with a rolling pin, something tells me that’s something you can probably handle.”
“That sounds fun, please, direct me,” he says, kicking himself over to the storage cupboard on the stool.
“Oops, sorry,” he giggles, grabbing hold of your hips to stop himself from crashing into the storage door, “I kicked too hard that time.”
“Go easy there, Dieter,” you laugh as he untangles himself from the stool and stands up. You get on your tiptoes to grab the peanuts and suddenly realize he’s still holding on to your hips, standing close behind you. You swear you feel his nose brush the side of your head, a quick inhale from him, and then he steps back, letting go.
“Peanuts?” he says, leaning past you and reaching up to grab the bag sitting just out of your reach. His arm brushes over yours and he’s suddenly very close again, his citrusy after shave, mingling with the heady sweet smoke of weed, fills your senses.
“Uhh…y-yeah,” you stutter, “thanks. And the dark chocolate if you can reach it.”
“Sure, this one?” he asks, grabbing the bag of Valrhona from the shelf. This time his chest is pressed against your back, you really should move out of his way, but he’s right behind you, almost pinning you in place, as he has to stretch to his full length to reach. And you find that you don’t mind at all, he’s warm and solid behind you, and this is more action than you’ve had in months.
“That’s the one, thanks,” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral.
Dieter brings it down to your level and you take it from him, expecting him to step back and give you room to go back to the work bench. But instead he stays right behind you, and this time you really do feel him bend down and brush his nose over your cheek, down to where your neck meets your shoulder.
“You smell delicious, like a cookie,” he mumbles and your heart literally skips a beat.
“Th-thanks,” you splutter and when Dieter steps back, letting you move, you avoid his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn.
“S-so the…umm…rolling pin is on that shelf there,” you say, pointing down to your right, “and there’s a measuring cup too, just…umm…just get a cup of peanuts, and put them in a plastic bag and bash away. Just wash your hands first.”
“Ok, I can do that,” he says with a grin and he walks behind you to the sink in the corner while you measure out the peanut butter into a sauce pan.
Dieter gets to work on the peanuts with great enthusiasm until you tell him they’re broken up enough.
“Just leave them there, you can come here and stir the peanut butter while I get the caramel ready,” you instruct him and he ambles over in just his socks.
“What happened to your shoes? If you don’t mind me asking,” you point at his stripey, multicolored socks.
“I’m not sure,” Dieter glances down at his feet, “I had shoes when I left home, I’m sure of it, but after that it gets a bit hazy.”
“You’ve really been partying since Tuesday?” you ask and he nods.
“Yeah, it was a good party so we just kinda kept going,” he grins, “there was a huge pool and we all went in. Actually, maybe that’s where I lost my shoes?”
“Maybe, you could go back and look for them?”
“And miss out on baking with a pretty baker girl? Never!” he chuckles and you’re not totally sure he’s being serious or not, but the grin he gives you makes you hope he is.
“I think this is melted,” he says, draggin the spoon through the silky smooth peanut butter, showing you the bowl.
“Yeah, that looks done. Just pass me that tray of shortbread and I’ll pour the caramel on top.”
“Can I lick the bowl?” he asks, looking over your shoulder as you let the thick golden liquid pool on top of the shortbread.
“I’m pretty good at scraping, there’s usually nothing left to lick,” you say, dragging the spatula around the edge.
“Can’t you be a bit sloppy, just for me?” Dieter grins, standing entirely too close, “It smells so good, I wanna taste it.”
This time he’s definitely flirting, the salacious smile on his face while he winks at you, makes you both roll your eyes and squash down butterflies on the inside.
“Fine, I’ll leave some for you,” you smile, looking back at the shortbread again and scraping out caramel, leaving the last of it on the spatula. Putting the bowl to the side, you hold out the spatula for him. But instead of taking it, he grabs hold of your hand, and licks the caramel off the spatula with a long swipe of his tongue. His eyes don’t leave yours and the whole thing is so over the top you burst out laughing.
“Jesus fucking Christ, tone it down maybe?” you snort, as he abruptly stops licking, letting go of your hand.
“What?” he blushes, “I saw it in this movie, it looked sexy.”
“Yeah, in a porno maybe!” you say, handing him the spatula, and only the spatula.
He takes it with a sheepish look, “Sorry, that usually works.”
“Not in this bakery, I have to work with that spatula when you’re gone, I can’t have it being used as a porno prop, Dieter.” You grab a new spatula from the holder on the counter and start smoothing out the caramel.
“You do smell good though,” Dieter says, still looking sheepish, “that wasn’t just a line.”
“Thanks,” you shoot him a quick smile, working over the caramel, “you smell good too, underneath all that weed funk.”
At this he grabs the front of his t-shirt and sniffs it, wrinkling his nose, “Yeah, it’s kinda obvious, huh.”
“Can’t believe you partied for forty-eight hours, I’d be dead on my feet,” you say, mixing the peanut butter into the caramel layer, sprinkling in some of the crushed peanuts, “Do you want coffee or something while we wait for this to set?”
“Fuck yes, coffee sounds amazing!” Dieter exclaims, dropping the spatula from his mouth, “And this stuff is amazing too, I’d eat a bowl of just this.”
“You’d die of a sugar rush if you did,” you laugh, sliding the tray into the large fridge and setting a timer on your phone, “C’mon, the coffee machine is out front.”
One of the advantages of being the sole owner of the bakery was that you got to decide what to skimp on, and what to splurge on. And the espresso machine was something you’d really splurged on. For a shop that mainly sold take out baked goods, it was way over the top, but it meant you always had great coffee on hand for your early mornings. The machine was already up and running, humming quietly as you started preparing two shots.
“How do you take it, Dieter?” you ask and he winks at you. “Anyway you wanna give it to me, baker girl,” he grins and when you sigh loudly, he laughs and holds up his hands in defense. “C’mon! I had to! You set it up perfectly!”
“How do you take your coffee?” you emphasis and glare at him, but your smile is breaking through and he gives you a playful poke as he comes up and stands next to the machine.
“Extra everything, cream, sugar, any of those coffee syrups if you have ‘em.”
“Why am I not surprised?” you smirk, “A guy who loves Millionaire’s Shortbread, of course he wants extra everything. I bet you’re lining up outside your local Starbucks the morning they start selling Pumpkin Spice.”
“I would never drink Starbucks!” he protests, “Fucking vile coffee and the worst of corporate America. But you can’t beat a good pumpkin spice if you’ve got quality coffee.”
“I’ve only got great coffee here, but no syrup, you want a latte? Double shot espresso?”
“Please,” he says, leaning against the counter next to the espresso machine as he looks over the front of your little shop, crossing his arms. You can’t help the glance up at his arms, the t-shirt hanging on for dear life as it clings to his biceps and broad shoulders. The many rings on his fingers look tiny on his large hands as he grips the outside of his arms, and you’re temporarily distracted by them, and his close proximity.
The hiss of the machine pulls you back to reality, coffee sputtering out of the spouts into the cup. You glance back up at Dieter and find him watching you with a crooked smile, a dimple in his cheek.
“What?” you say, looking back at the machine and begin to steam the milk.
“You really are beautiful,” he says, almost matter of factly, “especially when you zone out.”
“It’s early, and I’ve been up since two am, but thanks, I guess,” you reply, handing him the latte and pointing to the sugar bowl on the counter next to the till.
“I wasn’t trying to make a move or anything,” he says, sounding slightly hurt, “I just wanted to tell you I think you’re gorgeous.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you say, immediately regretting your tone, “I’m just not used to compliments I guess, I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I should’ve just said thanks,” you look over at him and give him a smile, “Thanks Dieter.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, smiling back.
You knock out the used coffee grounds and fill it up again to make your own coffee. Dieter reaches over and grabs four sugar cubes and drops them in the latte, stirring while he watches you work. He’s watching you closely again and it makes your cheeks heat up. He’s got a strange energy of childish mayhem and intense magnetism, chaos that’s either going to make you laugh until your sides hurt or fuck you until you can’t walk straight for a week. And you’re not sure which one you want.
Your coffee done, you add a splash of milk and lean against the counter opposite Dieter, taking a careful sip. He’s wrapped both his large hands around the thick glass and is delicately licking the foam, drawing a pattern in it with his tongue. You watch him for a few seconds until he notices you and gives you a sheepish grin.
“What?” he asks, copying your tone from earlier.
“You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, immediately regretting your filterless mouth.
But he gives you a disarming smile, “Gorgeous. Gorgeous baker girl that smells like cookies and caramel and chocolate.”
“You’re just high,” you can’t help but scoff at him, but he just shakes his head.
“No, not at all.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you, the silence stretching between you until you think something will have to snap and it’s probably going to be you.
The phone saves you, the timer going off just as you don’t think you can stand another second of his chocolate brown eyes looking at you like you’re the snack he’s been asking for.
“Thecaramelisset,” you rush out, breaking eye contact and hurrying back into the kitchen as if another second in the fridge would ruin the whole thing. Dieter comes in behind you at a slower pace, still drinking his coffee.
You pull out the tray and set it down on the workbench before turning on the burner under a saucepan of water, setting up a water bath.
“I’m just gonna melt this chocolate, and then I’ll spread it on top, it’ll set pretty quickly. And then it’s done.” You work quickly, too flustered to look at him and he hoovers just to your side, watching your movements.
The chocolate melts fast, you only need a thin layer, and then you pour it over the caramel. You scrape the bowl clean but leave a generous amount of chocolate on the spatula, giving it to Dieter.
“Don’t burn your mouth, it’s still warm”, you say when he takes it. He doesn’t grab your hand this time, but his fingertips brushes over yours as he nods, and it sends a sharp little jolt through you.
You turn back to the almost finished shortbread but can’t help glancing over at him. His pink tongue comes out and licks the chocolate, this time it’s not over the top, nothing provocative about it, he’s not even looking at you. But you swear you can feel every stroke of his tongue on your own skin, burning hot and wet.
You swallow and tear your eyes away, blindly reaching for the crushed peanuts, taking a handful and scattering it across the chocolate. The Millionaire’s Shortbread is done and you slide the tray back into the fridge, it only needs a few minutes. Dieter remains by the counter, finishing off the chocolate on the spatula as you start to clean up the kitchen and bring out the cookie dough that still needs to be taken care of. You see Dieters eyes widen as he sees the first scoop of dough land on the baking tray.
“Is that chocolate chip,” he almost whispers reverently, spatula forgotten, as he slowly comes over to stare down into the bowl.
“You want to try it? It’s double chocolate chip with browned butter.”
He makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head back before he looks at you and nods, “Please, it smells so good.”
You grab a tasting spoon, giving him a generous scoop and watch with a smile as he puts it in his mouth. His eyes close of their own volition as he moans, far too enticingly, around the spoon.
“Oh my god…” he sighs, slowly chewing the dough, “This is like heaven, better than sex, better than fucking coke.”
“Knock yourself out,” you chuckle, “it’s not healthy but it’s sure as hell better for you than coke.”
“And sex?” he asks with a wink, still rolling the dough around his mouth.
“They’re probably on par, but this is tastier than cum.”
Dieter nearly chokes, coughing loudly as you giggle. Between repeated attempts at clearing his throat he points his finger at you accusingly, trying to grin between his coughing.
“You’re…” he coughs again, “You’re a dirty baker girl!” he finally manages, grinning widely as you go back to scooping dough, still giggling.
“I can’t believe I said that, but you did serve it up perfectly.”
“I did, but I never thought your mind was that filthy, I’m appalled” he laughs, placing a hand on his chest in a mock gesture of shock. “Better than cum huh? You have a lot of experience in that department?”
Now he’s winking again, poking to get more details out of you. So instead you take another tasting spoon, scoop up more dough and put it straight into his mouth to shut him up. It works, he grins around the spoon and smacks his lips at the taste.
“So fucking good, definitely better than cum,” he smirks, earning an eye roll from you. “Do you wanna taste it?”
“I’m good, I’ve already tasted the dough many times,” you reply, careful to specify that you’re talking about dough.
“Maybe not like this though,” Dieter says, suddenly bending down and pressing his lips against yours. It almost makes you jump, his soft lips against yours, his aftershave, it all envelops you in an instance. He’s not touching you anywhere else, just your lips, and you can’t taste him, his mouth is still closed. Maybe you should push him off, the thought flits through your mind for a split second. But you want to taste him, taste the cookie dough you know is delicious, mingled with him, so you part your lips, your tongue coming out.
Dieter lets a quiet groan slip out as he part his lips, letting you in, opening his mouth and tilting his head to come closer. You hear the spoon clatter to the floor as his hand comes up and cups your cheek, his big hand reaching behind your neck, another stifled groan from him. He tastes of sugar, coffee and chocolate, all flavors mingling into something enticing that pulls you closer.
There’s nothing delicate about this kiss now, you lick into his mouth, and he offers you all the space you want, holding you close and moaning softly as your tongues tangle.
“Touch my hair,” he mumbles, breathing into your mouth, “I want to feel your hands in my hair.”
“They’re all sticky, Dieter,” you protest but you feel him shake his head, his lips brushing over yours.
“I don’t care, touch me, hold me, I want to smell like you when I leave,” his tongue slips between your lips, and you run your hands through his hair. You can feel it sticking, tugging at his wild locks but he just groans, his hands holding you tighter and, encouraged, you let your own hands run across his body, eliciting another loud groan from him.
Tension is building between the two of you, he is growing hard against your belly, unmistakably turned on and doing nothing to hide it. You can feel heat radiating from your own core, so scorching he must feel it too through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. If this doesn’t stop soon he’ll have you bent over the workbench in a minute, and Health and Safety would definitely have something to say about that.
With a groan and tremendous effort, you put your hands on his chest and push him away. His lips chase yours for a few seconds, eyes closed, a protest coming from him, before he looks down at you with a sigh.
“You taste even better than you smell,” he says, not letting go of your cheek, his other hand still around your waist.
“The cookie dough goes really well with the coffee,” you reply, your mouth quirking up in a smile and he matches it, a dopey look on his face.
“Amazing,” he breathes, "you're amazing, baker girl.”
His adoration makes you tremble, you feel the heat in your cheeks, and he sees it, leaning into your lips. He stops and looks at you for a beat, to ask for your permission, and when you don’t pull away he presses a soft kiss to your warm mouth, so different from the hasty, heated kiss you just shared. This one lasts only for a few seconds, gentle, before he pulls back, his hand slowly trailing along your check.
“I should probably call for my ride,” he says softly, “it’ll take a while to get here.”
“Ok,” you nod, “the shortbread should be done too.”
“Ok,” he replies, but he doesn’t make a move to leave and you can’t seem to take your eyes off him.
“I really should…” he sighs, tracing his fingertips over your cheek again, “call that ride.”
“Go, do that, I’ll cut the shortbread, we can have some while we wait for your ride.” You lightly put your hand on his warm chest and push him away, smiling, but you really want to bunch your hand in the soft t-shirt and pull him closer.
“Ok,” he says, louder this time, as if making up his mind. He shoves his hand in his pocket, miraculously finding his phone intact as you bring the tray out of the fridge.
The whole thing has set into layers, so you take a sharp knife and start cutting rectangles, slipping them up and onto the tray that goes in your display case, some go into a take away box, two you put on a separate plate and then look around for Dieter, spotting his broad back out by the back door. Just as you come over to him he ends his call, turning around to you with a smile.
“My ride will be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, following you to the doorstep and sitting down. You sink down next to him, maybe a little bit closer than necessary, but he’s wide and takes up almost the whole door frame. Your cookie dough is still waiting for you, you’ll be playing catch up with your baking for the rest of the morning, but it’ll be worth it. This chaotic, disheveled man has made your morning a lot more exciting than usual and you’re a little bit sad to see him go.
“Here, what you came for,” you say, holding out the plate, and Dieter takes one of the Millionaire’s Shortbread.
“I can’t believe you made these just for me,” he grins and bites into it. You watch his face, this is your favorite part of baking, watching people when they taste the finished thing. And Dieter doesn’t disappoint, he groans, loudly, grabbing onto your arm and leaning his forehead against your shoulder, his whole body reacting to the flavors in his mouth as he chews.
“I Iive here now,” he moans, “I’m giving up my career, I’m going to live in your bakery and pay you to feed me for the rest of my life.” He lifts his head up and takes another big bite of the shortbread, groaning again as he looks at you, his eyebrows pulled together, big brown eyes pleading. “How is this so good?” he moans, his tongue coming out to catch an errant peanut crumb, “you’ve got to taste this.”
He holds up the last bite of the shortbread to you, and you open your mouth, letting him place it between your lips. You feel his fingers brush over them as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to swipe over your bottom lip.
“It’s really good, I’m pretty happy with this,” you say, trying to not chew with your mouth open as Dieter looks at you, his eyes on your lips.
“Do you want another one?” you ask, holding up the plate and Dieter nods fervently and groans again as he takes a bite.
“I can’t decide, this or sex, which is better,” he chuckles, and you nod. You know the cake is good, but you can’t help but wonder if sex with Dieter might not be even better.
You sit side by side in the early morning sunshine, eating the cakes. Dieter soon finishes his second one and cracks the lid on the take away box you’ve given him, sneaking a third one with a childish grin that makes you happy to see.
“Seriously, I live here now, I’m moving in tomorrow,” he mumbles, moaning between bites, leaning on you, his head on your shoulder.
“You do that Dieter, I might even let you lick the bowl once in a while,” you say, patting his messy hair.
“Lick the bowl or lick your bowl, baker girl?” he giggles and you give him a light smack, shaking your head.
“Enough with the porn jokes,” you scold him, no menace to your words, he can hear the smile in your voice and giggles again.
“Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, “Nothing weird, I promise, I’m just really tired suddenly.”
“Ok, sure, but your ride should be here soon.”
“Yeah, I just wanna relax my eyes for a while….” Dieter yawns and slips down the stairs to sit on the last step, hooking his arm around your hips and putting his head on your lap. The warm weight of him on your legs is actually comforting, his arm a steady hold behind you. Without thinking about it you start carding your fingers through his hair, adding to the sticky mess, making it stand on end, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It takes him minutes to fall asleep, a low rumbling snore coming from him.
You keep stroking his head for a few more minutes before you carefully lift his head up and slip out from under him, letting his arm be his pillow. You need to go back to baking, your first customers will be arriving soon and you haven’t even put the cookies in the oven, you want them fresh and warm when the early morning commuters arrive.
Back in the kitchen you quickly scoop the rest of the dough on the trays and get them in the oven and start stocking the display case out front with what’s already done. You’re just sliding the last croissants into the tray when the opening hour strikes and you flip the sign on the front door. You’ve been listening out back for a car to pull up but you haven’t heard anything and once the morning rush starts, you’re swamped and a couple of hours pass before you even realize. When it finally calms down you wipe down the counter and clean your hands before checking out by the back door. It’s still open, but Dieter is gone, as is the take away box, not a trace of your chaotic, magnetic early morning visitor.
Hours later, as you’re about to close up for the day, a delivery van pulls up in front of the shop. A man in a uniform jumps out and comes rushing in with a box and an extravagant bouquet of flowers with a vase. “Delivery for you, miss,” he says, handing you a device to sign your name on, and then the flowers and the box.
“Thanks,” you say but the man is already halfway out the door.
The flowers fill the small shop with their scent, and you place them on the counter, next to the till, stopping to stick your nose into the white lilac and breathing deeply before getting the shop closed up.
You flip the sign and take the box into the kitchen, the back door is still open to let the warm spring air in. Sinking down on the stairs where you sat with Dieter just this morning, you open the box. It contains another box and inside that, a note. But there’s also a mouth watering, rich, smell of pastry and meat coming from the box. Intrigued, you open the lid, only to find a thermal container inside, like a small version of the ones used to keep delivery pizza warm. Inside are six fat, delicious looking sausages rolls. Your stomach gives a hungry grumble and you immediately grab one, laughing as you remember Dieter’s first request this morning; sausage rolls, like the ones he bought in England after party nights.
The sausage roll really is as delicious as it looks and you grab a second one before you pick up the note that came with them.
It's a double folded piece of paper, so thick it almost looks like part of a canvas. On the inside a note is scribbled in a looped, flowing handwriting.
“Next time I’m asking you on a date, baker girl /D”
Part Two
If you want to make Dieter's Millionaire's Shortbread, here's the recipe I used.
#dieter bravo#pedro pascal character fanfiction#a bakers dozen#pedro pascal#dieter bravo fluff#the bubble
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AITA for breaking up with my boyfriend because I caught feelings for someone else? Context: I (26 F) had a boyfriend (28 M) of nearly 5 years. We met at the end of my college career and instantly hit it off. We moved in together not that long after we started dating, and things were great. A bit over a year ago, my boyfriend got a new job that requires him to travel a lot. We managed fine for a while, but him being gone for long stretches of time did put a bit of a strain on our relationship. I feel the need to clarify now that I have never had any suspicions of him being unfaithful during his travels. Despite the distance, he continued to be as sweet to me as the day we started dating. We used to do a lot of face time calls when able to, and he would take me out on date nights when he was home. So, at first, it wasn’t too bad. But as time continued, he got busier and busier with his job and had less time to face time me. Well, around 6 or 7 months ago, I ran into an old friend from high school. She (27 F) and I were practically inseparable in high school, but we’d grown apart after we both left for college. It was such a pleasant surprise to learn that she’d recently moved to my area. We’ve spent a lot of time catching up and hanging out in my free time, and she fit in with my friends super well. It was nice to have her as a friend again, especially when I was dealing the physical distance of my boyfriend. She’s honestly so incredibly wonderful and amazing. I really do care deeply about her. Back in high school when we were both single, we were far more affectionate with each other, but since we’ve reconnected she’s actually been super respectful of my boundaries as someone in a relationship. I know that’s the bare minimum but it really does make me happy that she was conscious of that. About a month ago, I got hit with the realization that, somewhere along the line, my feelings for my boyfriend had faded, and I had developed feelings for my friend. The moment I had this realization was when I was sick with a pretty bad cold, and she came over to my place to drop off soup to make sure I had at least something that would make me feel better. After she left, I was left with an immense feeling of guilt. Because suddenly I realized that I had very strong feelings for her, and because I suddenly realized that I may have unknowingly been emotionally cheating on my boyfriend. Of course, the next time he came home from work, I broke the news to him that I felt like we weren’t working out. He was devastated, and I feel really bad, but I feel like it would’ve been worse if I had stayed in the relationship even knowing I had feelings for someone else.
I haven't even brought up my feelings to my friend yet. Because I feel like it would be unfair to my ex-boyfriend to immediately get into another relationship, and also because I think maybe I should allow myself to be single for a while. But I still can’t help but feel like I’m the asshole for essentially emotionally cheating on him. So, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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Superweapon Surprise
Gemilin bounds into the cafe, practically skipping. Their tail swishes and their ears and eyes are roving the crowd, looking for someone. Finally, the K’laxi sees who they’re looking for.
“Lina! Lina! I need your help!” Without waiting to be invited to sit, she joins Lina at her table.
“What is it you need, Gem?” Lina is pretty sure that she’s Gem’s only human friend, so she tends to find her when she has a question about humanity. She’s also pretty sure Gem has a crush on her, but she tactfully doesn’t mention that part.
“Can you design a weapon for me please?”
Lina almost chokes on her coffee. The cafe is one of the few places the popular stimulant is allowed, and all other sapient species have to sign a waver to enter. Lina is one of the humans who visits every day for coffee. “Gem, I work on thrusters all day long. I don’t design weapons!”
Gemilin nods excitedly, her ears flicking. “Yes, yes, I know, but you’re also a human. You are practically predisposed to designing weapons that would make the rest of the Galaxy splorch their vivnax!”
Lina turns her head to the side. “What was that Gem, I don’t recognize those words?”
“I know! Isn’t it neat! Hari over in Environmental Processing said it would sound ‘cute’ if I colored my speaking with words from my birth language. Is it cute?” Gem’s fur ripples a blush and she is practically vibrating with excitement.
“Gem… did you drink any coffee? You are sure… animated today.”
“No, silly! That level of stim would kill me. So, a weapon?”
Lina puts down her coffee cup and busies herself putting her silverware and napkin on her now empty tray. “Why though? Why me? Why a weapon?”
“I already said! Humans are great at weapons. As for you, well-“ Just for a little bit, Gemilin looks down at the floor. “-You’re the only human I know that would actually try and come up with an answer instead of just brushing me off.”
“Hmm. Okay then. Walk with me.” Lina stands up and makes her way to the bussing table. She drops off her tray and coffee cup and starts down the hall. Gem follows, trotting just a bit to keep up with Lina’s long strides.
“Okay, so the thing that I’ve been thinking about is the fact that we’ve had the wormhole generators for hundreds of years, and haven’t really tried to weaponize them yet, right?”
Gem stops, but Lina doesn’t notice. She bounds to catch back up. “The… wormhole generators? How would you weaponize them.”
“Well, they take the ship and open a wormhole and the ship moves through the wormhole to any other part of the galaxy pick right? So long as we have the energy and the navigation solution, it works. What if we didn’t use a ship.”
“What would you use instead Lina?”
“Well, like a bomb for example. Or!” Lina is becoming more animated. She’s looking up as she thinks and walks. “Okay, try this. We take a stardrive from an old Starjumper, stick it on a few thousand tonnes of tungsten, then accelerate it up to around 80% C.”
“Yes, a relativistic impactor. You used them against New Wellington.”
Lina’s head snaps down to Gem. “That was Parvati, not me, I’m from High Mars Lilac. Anyway, how did you know about that?”
Lina’s reaction causes Gem to flinch. “Sorry! I forgot that it was Parvati. I learned it when I was looking up human weapons.”
“Anyway. Yes, like a relativistic impactor, except this one also has a wormhole generator. Now, once it’s up to speed you link a few thousand feet over the surface of a planet.”
“Not to strike the planet?” Gem’s bouncy nature is gone, and she is giving Lina her full attention.
“No, that’s too wasteful. Send it over the city you want to destroy. The wormhole link will open, and the impactor will scream into the atmosphere. At 80% C it would generate all kinds of wild particles and interactions with the atmosphere. With those speeds any atmosphere would be like hitting a wall. The impactor would still be destroyed of course, but the devastation would be so much greater! With good enough maps, you could set it to strike multiple cities just by virtue of the size of the explosion. It would be like a lance of gamma radiation and exotic particles stabbing multiple cities instantly.”
Gem stops walking. Lina notices this time and stops along side her. They’re both at one of the large windows that are along the promenade. Gem’s ears are flat against her head and her tail is limp. “You… you did it. Lina, that weapon would kill millions.”
Lina nods. “Hundreds of millions depending on where and when you struck. And, I haven’t heard of it being done before. So there, I made you a weapon.”
The small K’laxi looks around for a bench and flops into it. Lina sits down next to her and looks down at her friend. “What’s the matter? You asked for a weapon.”
Gem looks up at Lina’s kind face. “I didn’t think you could do it though. And so easily… and with such destruction. If someone asked me to come up with a weapon I’d probably say something like ‘a human slug thrower but bigger.’ You thought of a way to destroy civilizations… off the cuff. Do all humans think like you?”
Lina looked out the window. Space was large enough that one really could not see the traffic around the station, but she knew it was there, circling like shoals of fish. “I don’t know, Gemilin. I haven’t met every human. Lots do though. We’re pretty good at thinking of unusual ways to use things, especially when it comes to fighting and weapons.” She turns back to Gem. “Now, will you tell me why you wanted me to come up with a weapon?”
Gem’s shoulders fall. “I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you. I couldn’t think of anything else, and Pen in traffic control said that humans are good at weapons. They thought that it might be a line of conversation.”
“Oh, Gem.” Lina smiled sadly. She reached down and ruffled the fur between Gem’s ears. Her head moved slightly to get a better angle from the touch. “You didn’t need to make up an excuse to talk to me. I’m always happy to talk to my friends.” Lina’s pad chimes angrily at her. She glances at it. “I have to go back to work, but I’m free tonight. Do you want to get dinner? We can talk about whatever you want, just… no superweapons, okay?”
Gem’s fur rippled a blush. “I’d… I’d like that Lina. I’ll see you tonight.”
#writing#humans are deathworlders#sci fi writing#humans and aliens#humans are space australians#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#humans are space capybaras#jpitha
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Buggy & The Roger Pirates Thing (maybe even a little Corabug!?)
Buggy always feeing like he doesn’t belong on Rogers crew. Like he was just brought on to be a playmate for Shanks (practically a pet). He’s not entirely wrong either most of the crew shows unintentional favoritism to Shanks and don’t really remember that Buggy’s there half the time.
The next island they visit they actually forget Buggy. Buggy himself doesn’t even realize until hours later, Roger Pirates far away and still unaware of their mistake. Buggy’s devastated, he kinda wanders around the islands small town and into its forest in shock and despair before coming upon a familiar face. A blond marine who he’d met in the town earlier who was now running through the woods. They had a good conversation earlier and all Buggy had really learned was the boys name. Rosinante.
Rosinante takes Buggy back to Sengoku who goes “WAIT A MINUTE” and then declares that Buggy’s been taken in for ransom. Buggy tells them that nobody is going to come for him.
They wait a couple days, then a week, then a couple weeks, finally two whole months go by and nobody’s showed up for Buggy. Sengoku is disturbed by this and does some digging. Apparently a vote to retrieve Buggy was placed and the majority thought it was too much work for the second cabin boy (the add on, the spare, the unpromising backup). There was also info that Roger and the losing side were upset with the polling results but weren’t going to do much about it.
Sengoku decides right there and then he’s gonna see why Roger let Buggy onto his crew in the first place and why they don’t want Buggy back.
And…..
Sengoku has no clue why they wouldn’t want Buggy to return to them. He’s crafty, smart, loyal. He’s a good kid by pirate standards. Clearly a trouble maker but the passion he has for chemistry and science is unmatched. The way he solves puzzles and can worm his way out of any situation socially is insane. His treatment of people around him and of Cora himself (even if it’s special treatment😉) is admirable. Not to mention the boys luck.
Sengoku suspect it’s cause of Buggy’s less upfront way of fighting and actually assessing situations is what put The Rogers off. Buggy may be cowardly but if he really is needed he’ll do his part. Plus his long range weapons (bombs, altered guns) are nothing to sneeze at.
Buggy ends up staying with the marines for a really long time even if in the beginning he said he was going to escape and get far far away from them. Instead staying, training and getting stronger.
Decades later Red Haired Shanks comes face to face with a marine with long blue hair and the nickname Ringmaster.
Okay first of all thank you for writing this.
now right now I’m crying because that’s just fucking sad.
them leaving buggy there and how they decided is disgusting and I’m literally devastated. Poor buggy wanna hug him so bad.
For me Roger here failed as the captain bc who tf cares what the crew thinks. He is the captain and he should have been defending Buggy but he didn’t. In here Ace was right Roger was a monster bc left a child who looked up to him like no one else ever did in a town from nowhere behind. I wonder how shanks reacted.
I kinda wished that- I don’t know if you watched the LA but there Garp is on the Plattform where Roger gets killed. I wish that buggy would arrive the Plattform when Roger finished his speech him thinking he will die with no regrets and with starting the new era but the moment he saw buggy his smile vanished and he knew he could no longer die at peace.
I have two things in mind of what buggy could say
He would smile at roger with a trembling body saying something like: “I hoped you lived a good live “captain”
or
2. He would be cold and saying shit like: “That’s it Gol D. Roger. You and your loved one will pay for your crimes” and he would mean it bc with people who believe in him he would get stronger and have more determination
I’m kinda surprised that Sengoku would take with if we think about what he did to Ace considering that wanted to execute him for being roger son not being the second commander of Whitebeard who was equal to roger. But I do not complain. If I think about it Buggy could be trained by Sengoku and Garp and Tsuru. Sengoku and Garp were also equal to roger. And while Sengoku could teach him to be smarter fight smarter, Garp could train him in strength combat and haki. Tsuru could help him to calm himself down and always keep his cool. So he could be powerful yonko level bc that what actually oda said. If Buggy would take effort he would be yonko level.
You know what a sad part of this is Buggy is the kind of character who gets treated bad by the “good” ones (in here the goal of the main character) but he would not get justice. He would die and maybe the others would regret it but probably not the same episode one person would say “he would want that you hate yourself…” like BITCH OFC HE WOULDNT BUT YOU SHOULD BC YOU DESERVE THAT.
anyways I’m getting of the topic I think Buggy is smart and a sweetheart if you treat him well. He maybe loves treasure in an unhealthy amount and can be a little arrogant but it’s like he is be mean but still would do everything for you if you treat him right. (I also believe that he would not have a pride problem to apologize if he did something wrong but that another thing).
again with the Plattform (I hope it’s Plattform English is not my native’s language) the thing is Shanks would see it. And I think no matter if choice one or two you choose he would be angry…even though he has no right too. But Buggy doesn’t care about shanks…well not anymore bc he has Rosi. While he hadn’t a bad relationship with Shanks his relationship with Rosi is much better. Shanks if not meant to be mean only teased him which lead to the whole crew teasing him and Buggy didn’t like that. I mean I don’t think he had a problem with some teasing bc that normal and fun you know? Everyone does that but they teased him about everything and it kinda hurt bc it gave off the feeling he wasn’t taking seriously at all. That he couldn’t be allowed to be sad or scared…genuinely.
With Rosi it wasn’t like that he got comforted motivated. Instea if being told that “a pirate isn’t allowed to be scared” or “are you hiding again” or “you wouldn’t be scared if you trained harder like shanks” he gets “it’s fine I protect you” or “don’t be scared buggy! Your strong and if anything happens I’m right here” and it helps bc it motivates him and them saying that they believe he is strong wants him to prove that and he doesn’t and he makes mistakes and learns from them and gets better bc that how it should be done
So if Buggy and Shanks would meet after decades Shanks would be furious at Buggy for doing this to their captain. But with just a few sentences Shanks anger turned into guilt
“Roger didn’t want me. He left me and abandoned me. No one wanted me”
So I think Shanks would withdraw and just go with it. But now he would feel emptier. It was one thing not having seen buggy and him officially cutting of the relationship was hard for Shanks but he shouldn’t complain he didn’t say anything when they voted to leave him even if he didn’t want that he could do more. Bc they would listen to him.
Buggy himself would live a good life being a very much known marine (vice admiral) having Rosi by his side (this is a Corazon lives AU) and be happy.
I even think that Luffy would be on Buggy’s side if he heard that story. But still would not stop being a pirate
#one piece#buggy#buggy the clown#op buggy#shanks#buggy x corazon#corazon#donquixote “corazon” rosinante#sengoku the buddha#monkey d. luffy#monkey d garp#buggy deserves better#gol d roger#roger pirates#the roger pirates are dicks#shanks is not bad but naive#buggy and his luck
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