#that is literally all his life has been up until this point

[tealvenetianmask]

I want to talk about a kind of troubling reaction I've been seeing to both Apology Tour and Ghostfuckers among parts of the fandom. The person is usually a reaction youtuber but sometimes someone writing on tumblr or twitter. They say something along the lines of "oh, I'm glad Blitz is being forced to confront his crimes/traumas/pain. This is the only way he will finally heal."

That's not how healing works.

I know that reaction youtubers don't always have the most developed takes because they're . . . you know . . . reacting in the moment. But I think it's still worth talking about.

I'm going set aside the people who seem to believe that Blitz needs to be punished for his crimes, and address those who genuinely think that getting a tidal wave of his own trauma in his face is what he needs to heal.

There's an attitude in contemporary culture that traumas are something people need to confront. As in, put on a brave face and dive in like a big boy. I blame capitalism, rugged individualism, and all the pieces of media that tie up a character's arc neatly by having them confront their darkest fears and insecurities. It can put a nice bow on things, but it isn't really how healing from trauma works.

Apology Tour:

Blitz gets confronted by a shit ton of people who hate him, at least some of whom are his exes, who he feels he's personally damaged. The decor and party games are all about killing and torturing him. Verosika confronts him about how much he hurt her. Oh, and then he sees the love of his life, who he's just recently pushed away, making out with another guy- proof, in his eyes, that Stolas is happier without him. And this all reflects the underlying fears he already has about who he is as a person (shown to us by Truth Seekers).

So what was the takeaway? Blitz came to the conclusion that he doesn't always want to be like this (good, but like . . . worth this much pain?). He flops on his steering wheel (relatable). He stops trying to reach out to Stolas (uh oh . . . ). He spends A MONTH spiraling in his own misery and making a mess of all aspects of his life until he's dragged out of it by a caring friend.

The party doesn't empower Blitz to change. It knocks him down and fucking traumatizes him (seriously, images of Stolas from the party show up later in his trauma reel) too much for him to be able to do actually work toward said change. I suspect that if left to his own devices, he would have kept spiraling for quite a while longer. It's one thing to want to change, and another to try to do so alone in the aftermath of a pile-on.

Ghostfuckers

After Blitz drags himself out of his hole of cheesy ice cream and despair to "play sex ghosts" (escapism, again, still knocked down by Apology Tour), infester demon Rolando picks him out as an easy target and assaults him, yes, assaults, with horrific images of his worst traumas and fears.

Not to state the obvious, but Rolando isn't interested in helping Blitz heal. He's trying to kill the guy. He wants to engulf Blitz in his trauma to the extent where he's consumed by it and loses the will to fight back. And as some excellent posts by others have pointed out already, he very likely would have succumbed if not for Millie's support.

Millie helps Blitz get through the onslaught by telling him about what makes him great and how he's improved her life and showing him love and care. And by literally beating the fucking infester out of him. Because there's someone in him who's hurting him, who's re-traumatizing him against his will. She takes him away from the reel of horrible memories.

So . . . do I think that confronting traumas can play a role in healing? Sure. But only if it's consensually (which neither of these situations are) and when the person trying to heal is ready. And most likely in small doses. No one's going and successfully confronting every horrible thing that's ever happened to them in one go.

And in my humble opinion, it's not going to work (for anyone, but especially not for Blitz) alone and without a healthy dose of kindness and compassion (both external and internal).

Blitz has a long road ahead of him toward healing, and it's going to be hard work on his part but also require love and support from the people in his life.

In a wonderful moment near the end of Ghosfuckers, Blitz and Millie work together to get Blitz's wrecked van unstuck and push it back through the portal into Hell. I love it because it's so simple and it kind of tells us everything we need to know. This sweet and salty gremlin has a lot of work ahead of him, but he doesn't have to do it alone.

[writtingsomestuff]

Can the hate towards Lando stop? Honestly, it's ridiculous at this point. Like I don't get it, don't you guys have a life or something to do in general? I am involved in social media but I don't dedicate my time to hate on a driver.

Lando, especially Lando, has been open about mental health and I think that we all know how much he suffers from it and regardless of this he still gets hate.

First of all, the "famous" line on Max's luck was taken out of context and I blame this on both journalism and fans who like to take everything out of context for the sake of... drama? I don't know what for but I surely don't get the reason.

Second of all, going to his Instagram profile and literal ruin his last post with a high percentage of hate comments is pathetic from you because it shows your immaturity, but the worst part is how aware he is of it- like he reads them. And it gets even worse when he is being sent de@th threats. People who are hating on him openly need psychological attention rn.

He may not be your type of driver, you may not even like him, I also don't like certain famous people or other F1 drivers but I simply ignore them (try it. it's much healthier). If you don't like Norris then ignore him, don't go to his socials, don't send hate because what's the point? showing how awful of a person are you?

And lastly, the worst part is that probably the people who are hating on him are probably the same people who publish and speak up about mental health's importance until it is Lando Norris I guess. Also, don't get me wrong, I want and I think that Max will win his fourth, but Lando was not fighting for the wdc since the beginning either, so...

Enjoy the sport, ignore who you don't like and don't be a poisonous person.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Hey so to anyone whose ever wondered why I like Jaune I could probably give a good amount of reasons.

From his knight aesthetic, to him not being a Gary Stu, but a very flawed, believable character whose trying to improve himself. Hell I LOVE that he is a reference to Joan of Arc.

That he's not classically played masculine, but also isn't portrayed effeminate or flamboyant to oppose it either. I like that Jaune feels like someone who at a glance could be from a earth.

He feels like he was a Civilian, and you know what, I also have a weakness for blue eyed blondes... Maybe that's why I Love the idea of there being a whole family of them.

Heck conceptionally Jaune has a lot in common with the stereotypical Shonen protagonist... But then again so does Ruby and Yang. And Blake fit the more edgy manga Protags...

But if I had to name one thing I like about Jaune, even more then his determination/ Willpower (Stubbornness when it's misdirected like it was in Jaunedice)

I think what I like most is, well... That Jaune is arguably the bravest character in RWBY (Oscar could be argued to be that too though)

Let me explain, so... Everyone else in Beacon is different then Jaune mentally. And the reason is simple. a combination of their aura and training...

All the main cast besides Jaune were overpowered teenagers with strength like Captain America. And there in lies the reason.

They don't view things the same way Jaune does, in the Red Trailer, we literally see Ruby tear apart a horde of Beowulves in minutes on the way to visit her mother's grave. Which implies she does this regularly on said trek.

Now for those watching we gain the same mentality and understanding as the girls of RWBY. Beowulves aren't that strong, their mobs... Weak, easy to beat and need big numbers to be even a bit challenging.

But if you simply look at them, compare them to Ruby... Every Beowulve is a freaking WEREWOLF!!!

That is fucking terrifying, take away the aura and that is a brickshitting situation Ruby is in. But to her it's really not, because she has spent her whole life killing these things to the point where she can do so effortlessly.

Hell we see this again in Yang when she literally doesn't just enter a fight with a gang of known armed criminals but starts it! Literally grabbing the kingpin by the balls.

Which, why wouldn't she, she punches fucking armored Grizzly bears to death. And so everyone one of JNPR and RWBY outside of Jaune look at Grimm and Criminals in the sense of...

Oh neat, a bad guy, let's kill/ beat them up...

When their being fired at their not thinking they could get shot, NO! Their thinking it's okay to get shot a few times cuz they have aura that'll protect them.

And that's why Jaune is so brave, he went to Beacon as a civilian, unaware of aura. Now stop and think about how far behind Jaune was actually in his own mind.

Because remember, he didn't know about aura, the stuff that lets everyone else be so OP. Jaune fought a Ursa Major and killed it without prior training and wasn't using aura techniques, he had enough physical prowess and strength to cleave through it in a single shot...

A literal Marine couldn't do that... But Jaune did, if it were a world without aura, Jaune would've easily been one of the physically strongest people. But because aura existed, people who were trained their entire lives with it are worlds apart above him.

But my point is this, everyone else isn't so much brave as confident and in Yang and Weiss's cases moreso arrogant. Ruby looked at a Goliath while she was in Mt. Glenn and her first thought was to go and kill it... That thing was a fucking Kaiju. And she wasn't scared of it, oh no she was excited to kill it!

Initiation was literally fun for Yang, she had a blast during it, Nora too, Blake wasn't concerned and until she was forced to ride a Nevermore Weiss was so at ease that she was willing to strike out on her own instead of teaming up with someone else, not once but twice.

But Jaune is different, to him, a Beowulf is a monster that can kill him in a single strike...A Ursa is a beast that could kill the strongest men... A single attack could end you life...

And yet he was still willing to take initiation, there was no second chances, or magic barrier to protect him, hell he didn't even have a gun.

Dude was gonna fight bears and Werewolfs with a sword and shield. In his mind a single blow would kill him, this wasn't fun, this wasn't exciting or something to be taken lightly.

It was a life or death struggle, and just because Pyrrha gave him aura doesn't mean that mentality magically goes away. No to Jaune Grimm still are threat, it why he shows nervousness when fighting them unlike everyone else.

But he still does... everyone else fights Grimm like it's a game or chore. But to Jaune he is actually fighting for his life, these things scare him, fighting scares him, and mentally he is still very much leaning more towards civilian.

But it's because of that that when he fights he is being braver then all the others. Not to say their cowards though.

I think ultimately that's why I like Jaune most, because I never stop realizing that he is fighting in a darksouls game while everyone else feels like their in DMC.

But despite that he doesn't hesitate to fight beside them, to try and help and is willingly putting his life on the line when everyone else is just having a easy run of it.

And I'd argue this is why Ozpin made him leader.

[austenpoppy]

Personally I DO think the way he acted in the Outsiders was completely, 100% OOC, didn't make sense if you look at the way he acted in the Nightwing run and other books from the Batfamily in which he appeared at the same time (the exclusions being a few mentions of Dick being in the Outsiders, and one or two team-ups with the Titans), and has a timeframe that, literally, is impossible to combine with the rest of what was going on. Plus it deconstructs everything Dick's tried so hard not to do and chose not to do over and over again, it takes years of character development and shoves them in the bin.

I don't understand how anyone could read Nightwing (1996), Robin, Gotham Knights or Detective Comics and Outsiders, think they happen in the same continuity and not get wild whiplash, or not think Dick's got some serious personality disorder.

When are we supposed to think that Dick started mourning Donna, exactly ? Considering Helena's presence and the way they implied Dick and her had history, I assume this is supposed to be set after "No Man's land". The problem is, we never see Dick being seriously depressed in the Nightwing run, apart from that time he beat the Joker so hard his heart stopped. And even then, Dick never mentioned Donna at the time, it really was all about how his actions didn't match with his perception of himself and how that made him feel like the worst person on Earth.

The rest of the time, Dick is shown to be pretty happy, or at least rather optimistic and open - pretty much the whole point of Chuck Dixon's run is that Dick builds his own thing in Blüdhaven and starts to find his footing. It culminates in Dick declaring in the beginning of Devin Grayson's run that he's "happy" and that he feels "good about what he's been doing for a while now". And considering how quickly Dick's life unravels in that run, Dick is "supposed" to be with the Outsiders at this point.

And even then, let's say he wasn't at the time he said that - why would he still act generally happy up until he gets fired from the B.P.D. ?

How do we reconcile the idea of a Dick who's optimistic and builds emotional connections with his neighbours and with his coworkers at the B.P.D. (Amy then Gannon Malloy) and brings people into his life (Dave and Kesia Toussaint being the most obvious example of this), while making effort after effort to be there for his friends and family, and has no problem teaming-up with others (Babs, Tim, etc., and that's without the consideration that one of one of Dick's first thoughts after meeting Tarantula is that she might become one of his allies), with a Dick who's so deeply mourning Donna he decides to become distant with everybody (yeah, if you read Outsiders: Secret Files and Origins, Dick is said to hold Raven and Dick at a distance and barely care about them (!!!!!!) and tells Tim they should be working on their own) and to be closed off and apathetic ?

Am I supposed to believe Dick's happy to have his little family in Gotham and his circle of neighbours, friends and coworkers in Blüdhaven, but somehow whenever he goes to New York he suddenly becomes an ice prince who closes himself in his tower ?

Here's a glaring example of how drastic the changes are : Dick is sympathetic toward Helena when they first meet, and he still has affection toward her in "No Man's Land". At the very end of Gotham Knights, Bane has a revelation (he thinks he's Bruce's brother) and the family works with him cautiously. Helena sees that and is understandably furious at the hypocrisy. And yet Dick runs after her to try to justify what's going on. And then we have Dick in the Outsiders, who is very hostile to Helena and hates her guts, while Helena says he secretely wants to sleep with her. And yet when Dick's Renegade in Nightwing (at this point he's already "left" the Outsiders, but I'll come back to that later), the first person he turns to when he doesn't know what to do with Sophia Travis and Rose is Helena, and there is no mention of any hostility between the two.

No matter if you place Dick's interaction with Helena in the Outsiders before or after their discussion in Gotham Knights, you'd have to wonder if Dick's taking crazy pills if you truly believe he'd go from being sympathetic to someone to hating their guts openly without reason, then go back to trusting them without apparent reason either.

The truth ?

Dick was never written as mourning Donna in his own run or any of the Bat-related comics, and it shows. Thus Dick was never mourning Donna in those issues.

Then there's his "departure" from the Outsiders, that should give everyone a headache. If we were to believe "Identity Crisis", Dick was still with the Outsiders during the Crisis. Also he was back on his feet and running everywhere without crutches...while in his solo run Dick will be using crutches for weeks at least.

And that means that everything that went on with Blockbuster and Tarantula happened before he left the Outsiders. Yet in his solo run, after the events of "War Games", Dick decides to "make things right" and turn himself in with Tarantula. So...am I supposed to believe Dick got raped by Tarantula, got shot in the leg, was back on his feet for the battle that led to Indigo's death, decided to leave the Outsiders saying it'd gotten "personal" though in reality he just wanted to turn himself in for murder, then slept with Starfire before confronting Tarantula and spending the next weeks with crutches ?

Reeeeaaally ?

And then you know why Dick's behaviour is OOC ?

Dick spends the first half of New Teen Titans deciding he wants to be different from Batman in the way he acts, leads, deciding he wants to be comfortable with strong emotions after he embraces Starfire's way of seeing things, and being clear on the fact he never wants to be this emotionally closed off person who holds people at a distance not to get hurt, tries to get away from all emotion, and doesn't trust anyone. And he works hard not to do that, all the time.

Are there moments he gets depressed ? Sure. But even when he isolated himself and lashed out at Babs after the Joker's death, he still cared very much about people (his looking for Kesia after reading her letter happened around that time). And after Blockbuster and Tarantula, in War Games and after he was shown to care so much about Tim, and Steph's death. And like, don't you think it's weird that if Dick was depressed since he started being with the Outsiders, Alfred only saw it after Blockbuster and Tarantula ?

The entire point of Dick's character is that he cares, he works on being a better person and strives to have a life on his own, can have setbacks but they don't define him, he wants emotional connections, and his goal is to uphold his idealistic ideal of being a hero and he puts a lot of burden on himself to achieve it - if he doesn't he thinks he's failed and goes right to self-loathing for a while before pushing to get up, and he's a leader who takes his teammates into account.

Precisely zero elements of that are present in Outsiders. Zero. Dick is portrayed as unemotional and uncaring (except in regards to Roy), who's given up on working on himself, who is very much defined by his grief (oh, does it start to ring a bell ?), who pushes everyone away, who treats his teammates like soldiers, who becomes utterly pragmatic and is ready to use any means he deems necessary to achieve his goals. The same guy who was ready to sacrifice the planet to save Vic and who spends his time lecturing people on unecessary violence was written by Winick as someone ready to sacrifice dozens of lives and who justified the use of torture to a teammate, telling her that if she hadn't tried to save the other lives there wouldn't be any need to do this.

?????????

At what point does a character start being OOC ? You can't make a character lose most of his personality, keep his skills, and call it a day.

Thing is, Winick just wanted to write Batman Jr. Dick is not Batman Jr. The entire point of Dick's character is that he's not Batman Jr.

And Winick does not know how to write Dick Grayson. It turns out most panels or issues I hate regarding the man he calls Dick have been written by this guy.

Also don't get me started on how Jade replaces Dick as the leader of the Titans supposedly because he doesn't care enough/is too detached, yet the only remarkable action Jade undertakes after that is bringing Kory, one of her teammates's ex - which will have zero impact on the narrative, by the way, except for Kory and "Dick" sleeping together after "War Games" (still wtf). After that she immediately tells Grace they don't have time to care about the sex trafficking ring Grace was used by as a child because there are more important things they could be doing (!!), they understand there's a mole, Indigo dies and after the destruction of their headquarters Jade decides there should be no headquarters anymore and that they should have their meetings in parks like fifteen-year old squatters, and reminds everyone they're only colleagues.

Attempt at being a better leader : failed spectacularly.

So why does Dick being leader of the Titans 1999 work ? Well, simply because his life in Blüdhaven and Gotham was acknowledged. We see Dick running not to be late to the preccinct, or coming back for an emergency in his police uniform, or being taken up in Gotham and unable to help with the search for baby Lian. Simply put, it's not incompatible, thematically or logistically, with what was shown in his own run.

But I don't like the idea that Dick was an asshole in Titans 1999 ? Like, that's very unfair as far as I'm concerned (though to be fair I'm not faliliar with "Graduation Day", because I know who wrote it and after Outsiders I decided I had enough). First, I agree with OP that Dick was guilt-tripped (in a way that would've made me angry, really; why would you say that Dick's dependent on friends not to become an asshole ? Sure, like everyone else, Dick needs to have supportive people in his life, but that's not the same thing) into joining the Titans, when he'd said he had too much on his plate already. And putting more burden and responsabilities on Dick when they could've just hanged out together wasn't a great idea, either.

It's even more tragic that other teammates/friends (Gar and Kory, who to be fair weren't at the initial reunion) lashed out at Dick that he wasn't present enough. Worse for Kory to say it, though; Kory knows how much guilt Dick can feel all the time, plus she started lashing out at Dick when Dick wasn't the one who started a fight - like, sure, he wasn't happy she killed Adeline (complicated stuff), but he wasn't being mean either. At least in Gar's case, Dick was the one who started the fight.

There are also at least three instances of Dick being considered in the wrong that I thought were very unfair.

1) Dick and Vic's falling-out

The first has to do with Vic, when Dick explained to Vic he couldn't leave Titans Tower after what had happened when Vic'd turned into a toughtless killer machine, because he'd convinced the JLA not to bring Vic into custody and to leave him with the Titans instead.

Like, has everyone forgotten what happened ? Vic was creating earthquakes and floods, the JLA wanted to eliminate Vic, and Dick was the one who kept arguing with Bruce that Vic was a great man and that no sacrifice was ever acceptable (take that, Outsiders). Then he had a plan to bring back Dick and had the original Titans talk to him, and it was found that only the ship could be used to host Vic but that if the team chose to have Lilith do that they would probably not survive, since Lilith had come to get them in the first place. And without any hesitation Dick told Lilith to do it, because if she didn't all they'd done would be in vain.

And then Dick manages to make sure Vic isn't treated like a prisoner by the JLA, but can have time with his friends instead. How was Dick a bad friend at any point ?? He's not even the one who first mentioned Vic's name when they reformed the Titans, or the one who convinced Vic to rejoin.

Now I see people saying he should've talked to Vic about it. But frankly, was there any way Vic would've taken it well ? No, and we know it. He would've felt like a prisoner from day one. I'm not saying not talking about it was necessarily the best choice, but I'm saying it wasn't as easy and clear-cut a choice as some people make it out to be, and that considering everything Dick had done he deserved a lot more grace than he got. Truly throwing in Dick's face that the team he's responsible for was built for Dick so that he "wouldn't become like Batman" but implying he did anyway is one of the lowest blows you could throw at Dick.

And it certainly was not manipulative (the word's too strong). Dick didn't want Vic to react or behave a certain way. He wanted to protect Vic, wanted him to rebuild his life in a loving environment, while making sure everyone would be there if things went south (which...like...again Vic had created earthquakes and natural disasters ??).

It grinds my gears even more that Gar and people said that when you remember that in NTT, at Donna's wedding Gar had asked someone to create a special device to show "the true Victor Stone" without the cyborg part, without telling Vic, after Vic expressed he was afraid people would recognize him as one of the Titans and Gar said he'd found a solution, that it wouldn't be a problem. Personally I would've found that a lot more hurtful than what Dick did, but somehow Vic apologized to Gar ten minutes after lashing out at him, and told him he understood Gar only wanted the best for him and wanted Donna's wedding to run smoothly.

Well Vic was angry/moody at Dick for months. And all this time Dick worked tirelessly instead to provide Vic with a more human body, which is like...everything Vic ever wanted, after expressing multiple times he was very uncomfortable with his new body.

And yeah, okay, after Dick found out it could be done he could've explained the situation beforehand (yeah because mentioning it before he was sure would've been like getting Vic's hopes up and perhaps crushing them after). But it's such a minor detail compared to the effort and care Dick put into helping Vic all this time ??

But Vic lashed out again. And instead of being defensive Dick let it slide to let Vic vent and listen to him and reassure him that it was going to be okay.

I would seriously give half of my liver to get a friend like Dick. And saying Dick's manipulative is so freaking unfair. Dick can dupe criminals alright, but manipulating friends isn't something he's prone to do - the closest thing I can remember in NTT is Dick telling Gar not to go to Russia to help Vic the walking robot (they already had a team going) and telling him he needed him in the US instead, because he thought Gar was too unstable in regard to the situation (see the difference with Vic's situation ? There Dick said something to Gar to make him behave a certain way).

2) Dick not telling Jesse Quick his secret identity

For reasons unknown, this was framed as Dick not being trusting enough. And sure, there's a panel in a team-up between the Titans and the Outsiders in which Dick criticized Batman for not telling his team his secret identity. But the point was that no one in the Outsiders knew who Batman was. In Dick's case, most members of the Titans knew who he was.

When Terra came on the team in NTT, several members of the team including Wally didn't tell her their secret identities. The entire plot revolved around that; and Terra, much like Jesse later on, complained that she wasn't being trusted. It took months for the team/the members of the team who had secret identities to tell her their names. And like, okay, Terra had a bit of a strange story from the start; but she too was known by another hero (Geo-force).

The difference was that back in NTT, this was framed as a team issue; it was about Terra earning the team's trust and the others being comfortable enough to reveal their secrets to her. In titans 1999, it became solely Dick's problem, as if Dick was too secretive. Why was it acceptable for Dick to protect his identity in NTT but not in Titans ?

The point has always been that Dick's more secretive about his identity than others because it's not just his secret he'd be revealing. Back in NTT, he was worried about people knowing Bruce was Batman. In Titans, he was worried about that, and he was also worried about Tim.

3) Dick hiding an investigation he was doing

This was again presented as Dick hiding secrets and the others not liking it. And in some ways, I can get hiw Dick not telling the team about several things might make them feel that way. But you do have to consider the individual circumstances in which Dick did what he did.

In this case, he had suspicions a team member/guest wasn't saying the truth, which proved true later on (he was actually a kid possessing a body, and unfortunately the body belonged to a psychopath), and led an investigation.

But there was no good choice there. Either he raised his suspicions to the team and if he was wrong he'd be considered an asshole, either he waited until he had concrete evidence he was right and told them after (which is what he chose) - problem was he didn't have the opportunity to tell them until the occasion forced his hand

Generally people prefer the second option, but somehow it's only a problem when it's Dick doing it. In the same story arc, Argent had actually noticed "Epsilon" acting weirdly and conducted her own investigation without telling anyone anything (except Lilith because she wanted Lilith to probe "Epsilon"'s mind), yet you had Donna go on Dick's case about keeping secrets, while Dick reassured Argent (Toni) that her head had still been in the game when she blamed herself, and talked about Donna saying he should've said something when Toni said she should've warned him.

And Titans Tower got destroyed. And, right, okay, Dick was the one who started to lash out at Gar when Gar dismissed it as being funny (his joke was, anyway), telling Gar he never took anything seriously, bringing up a past decision he'd made in regard to the kids, and Dick doing that wasn't okay (and as usual, he hated himself afterward for doing that). But did Gar have to say Dick had let a maniac live with the Titans, implying it was his fault the tower was destroyed and he endangered everybody ? Of course, Dick got defensive too, and told him it was easy to judge when Gar was so far away. And then Gar told Dick people talked and he knew Dick wasn't present enough.

People say Dick's prone to self-blame and it's partly Bruce's fault, and they'd be right. But though his friends are great for him, they sometimes put waaaaayyyy too many expectations on Dick, too.

But I truly don't get it. You can't tell me Dick wasn't a great leader after what happened on the planet where everybody was addicted and basically mind controlled. Dick was dealing with Jess hating him, Argent thinking he didn't trust her because she'd taken drugs to enhance her powers (the same drugs fed off to human beings who were taken on the planet) and he'd asked her to do a drug test, Donna hanging up on him because Garth was hurting himself holding open a portal, Wally calling because he was worried, his own guilt in regard to the mission... And yet this man didn't lose his mind (I would've) analyzed Argent's drug test to see what it was about to protect her, managed to feed himself an antidote quickly, and saved everybody from killing Toni. And then he still had time to talk to Roy and check up on him twice while in the middle of a civil war, telling Roy he was still in control, still clean, and when Roy asked him angrily why Dick didn't give Roy the antidote to him (there was only one dose), Dick told him Roy would've killed him (he would've).

Half my liver, I'm telling you.

Hey, do you think everything about Outsiders vol 3 (Dick’s run as the leader) was completely in character? I personally see his asshole behaviour as extremely in character and wouldn’t expect anything else, but...not his leadership.

I think he would not take on any team, regardless of them being strangers, and that if he did he would be MORE careful and not less. (Mostly because he’s been a leader for a long time, great at compartmentalising and has always been stressed about being responsible for others lives and I don’t think those things would just disappear when people he cares for die). Like, he would still be a jerk and isolate himself but also plan ahead more and take the least risks possible (which would make him a worse leader than usual but not a downright bad one).

Idk just wondered how you see it.

Yeah, I actually view BOTH his time with the Outsiders and his time with the 1999 Titans lineup as being a case of like....characters configured into situations the editors and writers want them in, regardless of whether that makes sense for them at that particular point in time.

Tbh, I hate Dick being leader of both those lineups, and don't think he should have been on either team at those times, period. And I agree that his behavior in those periods made sense for all the shit he'd been through and was currently going on in his life, and like most importantly....

HE DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE.

He repeatedly kept TELLING people he didn't want to be there, and that it wasn't a good time for him at EITHER point, and people who claim to know him best kept GUILTING and flat out manipulating him into being there, insisting they were doing so because it was for his own good, and they knew what he needed to snap him out of his funks, etc, etc....

EXCEPT THEN THEY KEPT GETTING MAD AT HIM FOR BEING MOODY AND AN ASSHOLE AND Y'KNOW.....NOT WANTING TO BE THERE.

Its like....hey guys, HE TOLD YOU. What did you expect? Its the same issue I have with the classic fight with Donna in NTT #19, where even if you leave aside the fact that he was brainwashed at the time, something that's always grinded my gears is how their fight takes place at Dick's apartment and before it escalates, Dick REPEATEDLY asks Donna to leave, and even tries to leave HIMSELF - from his OWN apartment - because he KNEW he wasn't in the right frame of mind to have the conversation or argument she wanted to have at that particular time.

And people NEVER listen to him! They never let him like have the definitive word on what HE needs, WHEN he needs it and what his needs look like.

And that bugs sooooo much, especially when coupled with how much flack he gets for being manipulative like Bruce or doing what he thinks is best without regard for what others are feeling or want.

Its like....if you're going to hold that against him, it needs to be acknowledged that people do this to him too, like ALL THE TIME. Including his closest friends like Donna, Wally and Roy.....with Wally being the one who pressured Dick to join back up with the Titans, after he'd literally been FORCED OUT of the group before the disbanding of the previous version, and like, still very much was not over all the deaths and injuries that had occurred during Titans Hunt, so reminiscent of previous disastrous events like Judas Contract and the Church of Blood......but Wally was CONVINCED that what Dick needed was to be back with the team again, back where he belonged, and he refused to listen when Dick repeatedly said he was under too much stress and pressure as is.

And like, Wally's intentions were good, but they have very different views of their times with the Titans because Wally has NEVER been in a position of leadership there! There's always been someone else to pass the buck off to when things go wrong, but there isn't that possibility with Dick! It stops with him, and he's always owned that.....which means like....joining back up with the Titans isn't a fun stress relief adventure time with old friends like Wally was picturing it as.....its stressful! Its life or death! Its the lives of his friends in DICK'S hands with nobody else to blame when shit goes south, as it always does.

And Dick KNOWS that, AND he knows his limitations, and so he tried to bow out gracefully from all that, but Wally kept pressuring him, made a big deal about only joining the team himself if Dick joined back up and acted like HE needed it for himself, and even though Dick CALLED him on this being bullshit and a blatant manipulation tactic, Dick still eventually joined up.....and just as he knew, Wally quit to focus on his family and the JLA within like ten issues, the second he was confident that Dick was at this point too INVESTED in the team to bail on it once Wally was gone.

And that's really shitty, tbh. And its not on Wally the character in the sense that they played it that way - the writers - because they wanted Dick back in the driver's seat of the Titans, but like.....the end result is still the end result, y'know? The takeaway is still that Dick was basically manipulated into taking up a job he no longer wanted, BECAUSE of how shit had blown up in his face with it before, and BECAUSE of how much else he had going on, and he KNEW it wasn't what he actually needed....but everyone else made it about what THEY decided he needed instead of listening to what he actually was saying and like....working with that instead.

Like, god bless the collective reasoning skills of Dick's friends and family who keep looking at everything the dude habitually keeps on his plate at his LOWEST settings, and thinks okay, what this guy really needs, I feel, is MORE responsibility.

Instead of like, trying to figure out how to help him take on LESS.

And then it all blew up in Dick's face exactly as he knew it would, and when more Titans died - Donna and Lilith this time - of fucking course Dick blamed himself for it, like literally anyone who knew him should have seen coming. But what were his friends and loved ones' reaction this time? What did they decide he needed?

The same thing they always do! More responsibility!

And again Dick tried to tell people this wasn't going to end the way they wanted it to - mostly Roy this time, as now it was Roy trying to get him to join up with the Outsiders using the specific pitch of them NOT being a family, like ENCOURAGING Dick to not get himself emotionally attached to the team so it didn't hurt as much if things went south with them -

Except again, this was blatant manipulation of the very same variety everyone gives Dick shit for, because in Roy's own words, the entire reason he did things this way was because he was convinced based on how well he knows Dick Grayson, that Dick wouldn't be CAPABLE of staying so unattached, and that he'd eventually invest in his new teammates despite his best efforts not to, and thus 'snap out of' his self-imposed isolation and like....form new connections via them.

But like....shockingly, it didn't play out that way? Dick deliberately tried to do exactly what he'd said he was going to do, KEEP himself from getting attached emotionally, with this being a very bad idea and absolutely something that led to teammates getting hurt, and yes that is on him and decisions he made out of an effort to focus on what HE needed rather than what was best for them - but like.....the problem I have here is like....this is precisely WHY Dick should NOT have been in a leadership position at this time, like you said!

And Dick was like the literal first person to make that argument?!??!

fahsklfhalfhalkfha

Roy was the one who pushed past it and said no I get it, and its okay, which HE shouldn't have done EITHER, not because Dick's choices were on Roy - they weren't, to be clear - but because Roy wasn't being straight forward about what his own intentions were. He wasn't ACTUALLY okay with Dick's approach to leadership of the Outsiders, he just didn't think it would ever actually get as far south as it went, because he was convinced it wasn't going to matter, because Dick was going to 'snap out of it' long before it became an actual problem. And THAT'S the part that's on Roy, because like....Dick TOLD him this wasn't a good idea, and WHY. And like, Dick literally just did exactly what he said he was gonna do, and that doesn't make it right, especially as a leader, but like......if people had actually listened to what he was SAYING rather than what they believed they KNEW about him and 'what he needed' then like.....they would have backed off and validated his concerns that he wasn't a good fit for a team right now and found some OTHER way to help him, rather than like...try and force it on their terms.

And so that's the part that bugs. Like, I don't think Dick's behavior during a lot of the team stuff of that period - even if it wasn't pretty - was like, out of character or even unreasonable - he was fucked up! He KNEW he was fucked up! He kept TELLING people, like hey guys, just FYI, I'm kinda fucked up at the moment.

But nobody would just....accept that. He's never allowed to just be HUMAN. Its the same thing with Dick as Batman and everything during Red Robin, like....other characters are so ready to jump on him for not being perfect the second he starts fucking shit up because he's reeling from stuff that hits EVERYONE hard, and him even more than most specifically BECAUSE of how much responsibility he normally shoulders (as well as how much blame others usually heap on him).....we barely ever see other characters being like okay, what do YOU need, how can we HELP.....

Instead of just....impatiently waiting for you to 'get back to normal' and be the Golden Boy we all both resent you for being while simultaneously EXPECTING you to be at all times, no matter what.

So no, I don't view his behavior with the Outsiders as OOC unfortunately, but I just think like....it would have been so different if he'd just been allowed to grieve in his own way at that time instead of being pushed and guilted and manipulated into getting back in the saddle right away or what the fuck ever, lol. Even his leadership fuck-ups at the time weren't out of character so much as they were proof that he SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN LEADING ANYONE at that time....

The trick of it is just like....he was 100% of that same opinion himself! Its just the writers wanted him as a leader anyway, and the characters were shoved into positions more about getting him to lead than getting him support.

[idksmtms]

Plié, Jeté, Relevé (Ballet Master!Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!reader)

A/N: Here you go my lovelies! I have literally never done ballet in my entire life, so any knowledge of this has come from watching tiktoks of ballerinas, movies with ballerinas in them, or my best guesses… anywaysssss, I hope you enjoy it! 

Also, would highly recommend watching the performance of Still Life at the Penguin Cafe on youtube, the music and the dancing is *chefs kiss* 

Summary: You were ready to admit that you hadn’t been at your best the past week or so, but surely you hadn’t been so bad as to deserve this much wrath from Mister Murphy… 

Word count:  3,750 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, mean!Cillian, SMUT, dub-con bc of the power imbalance (?), fingering (technically?), humiliation (not as a kink tho), only reader orgasms, depiction of toxic teaching environment, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

If anyone out there believed in the stereotype that all Irish people were happy and jovial then they clearly hadn’t met your ballet master. The man may speak with a lilting musical accent but there was not a thing jovial or happy about him. The master was harsh, verging on cruel. If anyone was caught slacking even the littlest bit, something that would go unnoticed by the rest of the troupe, his voice would crack like a whip through the studio. 

Recently, that whip had been directed at you. You knew you weren’t doing your best. You had hit a rough patch in your entire life. You had been late more times than ever before, more times than you ever would usually be, more times than you would like. And your dancing had been affected as well. Your posture wasn’t straight enough, your pliés weren’t deep enough, your toes not pointed enough. Everything was going wrong, and while you had hoped it wasn’t noticeable, Mr Murphy never failed to find every SINGLE one of your mistakes. 

Today differed in no way. You had dilly-dallied a little too long while getting ready in the morning, only to end up running late for rehearsal. It was no more than five minutes, but from the start of training it was the rule that all ballerinas must be lined up by the barre at exactly ten o’clock every day. For every minute you were late, the worse your punishment got. Usually if someone hit the five minute mark, they went home and sprained their ankle on purpose for an excuse. 

At four minutes, you had run into the hallway outside the studio and thrown your bag onto the ground, disregarding the sound of your water bottle rolling away and one of your keychains cracking under the weight of your things. At five, you were throwing the door open and running inside, slipping into the back of the line and getting into first position. 

Mr Murphy paused in his speech to gaze at you. You stared straight ahead, refusing to look directly at him. Slowly, his eyebrow rose, scrutinising you with a frown that made shame curl in your stomach and tears make themselves known behind your eyes. He slowly brought his hands together, rubbing them as he sighed and began shaking his head. 

“Kind of you to join us,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he made his way closer to you, stepping leisurely, dragging out the fear that made your throat hurt. He stood a few feet away, staring at you in that impenetrable way of his, ice eyes sharp and painful wherever they gazed. He clapped his hands once. “Girls, turn and look at Ms. Y/L/N.” He waited until each of them had turned in their spots, some craning their heads to the side to make sure they were looking at you lest they somehow disobey him. You could see the pity, the sympathy, the smug triumph in each of the girls’ eyes, the frowns and subtle smirks, and you could do nothing other than keep staring ahead of you as your hands and knees suddenly began to tremble. “What is wrong with her?” 

He didn’t ask it in a rude or incredulous way, but as if you were a diagram in a textbook, and this was simply an exercise the students were completing. You were sure your shame was visible on your face, the embarrassment turning your spine to liquid. One of the girls put her hand up, near the front of the room, and you only recognised her for the little kiss-ass she was once she spoke. She had always been that way, desperate for Mr Murphy. Always at the front of the line, always gleeful at the downfall of others, always ready to point out any mistakes. And you were always happy to watch her desperation help her in no way whatsoever. A lot could be said about Mr Murphy, but favouritism was not something he had ever displayed. Whichever ballerina was doing well, recognisably well, was given her dues, and it was left at that. 

“She’s not wearing her tights and leotard, or at least, she’s wearing sweatpants over them. Her pointe shoes are dirty, and her hair isn’t in a bun.” You could almost imagine her satisfied little smirk when she finished speaking, that evil little smile that you had always wanted to punch off her face. One swing, you thought, just one swing… 

“Correct,” he simply responded, threading his fingers through each other and raising his eyebrow at you again, as if confused and annoyed at you for not doing something. “Leave, get your shit together, and then come back inside. If you have not returned within ten minutes, don’t bother returning to rehearsal ever again.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the door and you nodded obediently, eyes downcast as you stood up straight and slowly walked back out. 

When the door was closed behind you once more, you stood silently for a minute, eyes clenched shut and hands curled into fists at your sides. You pressed out a scream behind your pursed lips, teeth clenched so hard your jaw began to hurt. You slammed the heel of your hand against the side of your head again and again and again until your shoulder hurt a little from the motion and your brain felt sufficiently jumbled. Your chest was heaving and you were overwhelmed with rage. You wanted to kick something, to throw something, to go back in there and rip that bitch’s hair out of her bun. You resolved to pulling your pointe shoes off and lobbing them across the hallway as hard as you could, letting out another clenched scream before walking all the way down to pick them up and bring them back. 

You stood in front of your bag and took three deep breaths. You picked up your water bottle from where it had rolled between another two of the ballerinas’ bags, and took huge gulps of water until you felt a little less sweaty with anger. You checked the time on your phone to make sure you hadn’t wasted your ten minutes, then set about carefully pulling off your joggers, folding them up, and placing them inside your duffel. You pulled out a new pair of pointe shoes, cursing yourself for not having prepared them in time and preemptively wincing at the blisters you knew you were going to get by the end of rehearsal. You walked down to the bathroom at the end of the hall in the pointe shoes, hoping to at least break them in a little bit with the short time you had, and used the mirror to quickly pull your hair into a bun, securing it with pins in a practised dance you had learned from years of repetition. You checked yourself once more in the mirror and then looked down at your phone before sprinting full on back to the room and sliding through the doors. You made it just in time. 

Mr Murphy glanced at you as you slipped into position at the back of the line, following the exercises he had been calling out to the ballerinas while you had been out. He methodically looked at every inch of your body, from your pointe shoes to your pink tights and black leotard, from the careful set of your bun to the determined set of your brow and sheen of sweat on your temples. He didn’t say anything directly to you, and you took it as a win. 

At the halfway point, you were all allowed a little break to drink water and have a rest before you switched from exercises to rehearsals for your next performance. You were all practising for your various roles in a performance of ‘Still Life at the Penguin Cafe’, and though you would have to wear a huge mask of a ram on your head, you were ecstatic for the performance. While it wasn’t technically a solo, you were the centre of the piece, being the only one not dressed as a penguin. Now, everything felt so precarious. You couldn’t quite be sure Mr Murphy wouldn’t take the role from you after the past two weeks spent in a slump, and the worry was becoming your ever-present companion. 

Just as the girls were all leaving the room to get water and lounge around on the floor of the hallway, Mr Murphy cleared his throat and snapped his fingers at you. 

“Ms. Y/L/N,” and he pointed at the spot right in front of him. It took everything within you not to sprint to the spot. You took careful, measured, steps and stopped a few feet in front of him, spine straight and head held high. You weren’t sure where to look. You could never meet his eyes, something in your soul was opposed to it, so you chose a spot on the wall just next to his head. 

“You will stay for another hour at the end of the session to make up for your failures this morning, understood?” He raised both his eyebrows, hands on his hips. You closed your eyes, trying not to burst into tears like a child throwing a tantrum on the spot. You nodded, whispered a ‘yes, sir’ in a clogged voice, and waited until he dismissed you to walk out of the room. 

You sat down by your bag with a sigh, arms slung over your knees as you cradled the water bottle close and pressed your face to it. You closed your eyes and allowed your head to dip down as some of your friends came to sit around you, offering pats of sympathy and words of comfort. You tried to smile, nodded in thanks, but you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never get back up. 

The next few hours were spent going through each section of the dance. You felt lucky that you didn’t get to the Ram piece, you were sure you couldn’t hold it together long enough for that, only to be doused with cold water at the thought that you needed to stay longer afterward. 

When rehearsal was over, Mr Murphy dismissed everyone right on the dot. He didn’t acknowledge you as the girls started leaving, the chatter slowly beginning to rise as they reached the door. For a moment you wondered if you could get away with leaving with everyone else, but just as you reached the door he called out “ten minutes at most, Ms Y/L/N, then I want you back in here.” Your bones seemed to disappear and you thought you would collapse to the floor in a heap of mushy flesh. Instead you nodded and wobbled your way outside to chug what was left of your water bottle, refill it, then chug the contents again as tears of exhaustion slipped from the corners of your eyes and mingled with the sweat dampening the hair by your temples and ears. 

The ten minutes were up far too quickly and you stood with a groan, heading to the door once more. You gazed at the room from the door, the light hardwood floors, the wall of mirrors and the bar spanning the length of the room, the huge windows letting in swaths of natural light. You often forgot how beautiful the space was. 

You walked slowly to where Mr Murphy stood, typing something on his phone and moving the speaker to face the room again. You stood before him, hands clasped and eyes downcast, waiting for instructions. For a while, he didn’t say anything. He was no longer on his phone, his hands hanging by his sides, and he stared at you. Every few seconds you glanced, trying to glimpse what was going to happen, but he just continued watching you, stoic as ever. 

You could never tell what he was thinking. Never once had you been able to guess at his thought process, to figure out what was going on in his head. Maybe that was one of the reasons he intimidated you so much. 

He walked closer, so close the toes of his shoes almost touched the toes of yours and you gulped, staring at the contrast, the black and the pink, the background of wood. His hand came up and he tapped up under your chin with the side of his index finger, waiting for you to lift your head. When you did, your entire face felt hot under the skin. He was so close, you could see the freckles splashed on his skin, the careful set of his cheekbones and jaw. You gulped. His eyes were so much more terrifying up close. 

“You’ve been given a gift,” he began, slow and firm, “your ability, your natural rhythm, that is a gift. Unless you put in effort to finetune this gift, it goes to waste. Do you understand what I’m saying?” You nodded but he shook his head once. “Speak.” 

“Yes sir,” you breathed out quickly, gulping when your mouth was closed again. 

“I’m not sure you do, though,” and it felt like the hammer falling. His eyes seemed to harden a little, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “The past two weeks all I have seen is a sloppy, unprincipled, uncommitted dancer who deems merely showing up a success.” Each word was a stab to some part of you, and it took everything not to wilt completely to the floor. “You have been given one of the more difficult roles in the performance, and I once believed you deserved it. For the life of me, I cannot remember why.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you closed your eyes, throat bobbing as the despair that felt inevitable finally began to land. 

He went silent, and that felt worse somehow. The backs of your eyelids began to burn and you clenched your hands tighter around each other, hoping the little pain it brought would distract from the tears. You berated yourself in your head. You yelled in your mind that this was a pathetic display, that it would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done if you began to cry in front of him. He would think less of you, it would only confirm what he believed; you were weak. When you opened your eyes again, one traitorous tear slipped out and down your cheek. You could feel the hot, ticklish track it made down the skin. If you didn’t know better, you thought you saw Mr Murphy’s eyes soften. 

He breathed out, long and tired, and reached up to gently wipe the tear away with his thumb. Your breath caught in your throat. His hand was warm. Your chest felt tight. His skin was soft. You stared into his eyes. He left the side of his hand against your face, as if allowing himself to feel the skin. Something in your stomach writhed impatiently. Everything seemed to have changed within a second. Some deep seated urge whispered in your ear to open your mouth and lick his thumb. You shivered. 

“Turn around,” his voice was low, rough, and you almost moaned at the sound. You gulped again, but obeyed almost instantly. You heard some shuffling, and then the music started, the slow long notes interspersed with the quick little strums, a beautiful, almost joyful piece of music. Then Mr Murphy was pressed right against your back, and suddenly the music was secondary. His chest, firm, solid, was moulded to your back. You could feel the soft fabric of his black shirt, the puffs of his breaths against the back of your neck. Your entire body shivered. He was warm, like a heater on a middle setting, and if you weren’t so tense, you would melt against him. You could feel his nose against your head as he bent slightly. You could feel his lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispered “relax.” You tried, forcing your muscles to loosen like you would before a performance. 

His hands trailed down your arms, his fingertips running down your biceps, then your forearms until you shivered against him again. When he reached your wrists, he hooked his own hands under them and began raising them in time with the music. You turned your head to the right, watched his hand raise your own, your lips parted and breaths heavy. You couldn’t move past the feeling of him pressed to your back. 

You almost missed the cue to move, almost, and pulled away from him slowly, carefully, using the measured steps required by the music. You left your right hand in his, just the barest touch of your fingertips against his, the illusion of contact as you moved to the left, feet lifting high. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, and suddenly you enjoyed the feeling in a sick, scary way. You walked forward until you were in line with Mr Murphy, still an arm’s length away before he stepped forward and your arms moved to a waltz position. He settled into the space, gripping your hands firmly in his. He was pressed as close as he could be, closer than your actual partner would be for the dance, and you set your eyes on his face. Your pulse thrummed in your ears, you were in your element. 

You went through all the steps of the dance like you had been born knowing it. Your bodies were like water as they moved, smooth, graceful. You hadn’t felt this intune to the music in a long time, hadn’t felt this much like a dancer in a long time. You could almost see the crowd in front of you, the blinding lights, the smooth fabric of the dress. 

At the final step, Mr Murphy gripped your hand and spun you into him, changing the ending of the dance. You gasped as you leaned back into his chest. His head was bent down, pressing his face into your hair. You were panting, torso moving up and down quickly but trapped in the confines of his arms crossed over you. You leaned your head back a little, pressing the curve of your skull into the curve of his neck as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. The music was fading out, and the only sounds in the room were your mingling breaths, heaving into the air of the room. 

His left palm pressed against your stomach, firm and insistent, but you couldn’t be bothered to look down. It seared into your already boiling skin and you closed your eyes. You tuned into the sensation of his hand slowly sliding down, bit by bit, inching down over your stomach then pressing against your pelvis. You gasped as you felt his fingertips brush over the leotard just at the top of your pussy. Your hand moved behind you, gripping his sides, clenching into the soft fabric of his shirt. 

He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against the side of your head, and you didn’t stop him. His hand moved farther down, pressing against the softness atop your core. Gently, his index finger moved to the centre line and began pressing in. You lifted up on your toes a little when you felt the pressure through the fabric, the indent of his finger pressing against your clit. You were hot and wet, he could feel the heat emanating from your core against his hand.

He kept his finger pressed there until you became restless, impatient, pressing your hands a little harder against his ribs. Slowly, keeping the pressure, he moved his finger down until he was pressing against your hole. The warm tendrils of pleasure slowly undulated up your insides. He repeated the motion, up then down and pressing a little harder against your hole. 

You breathed out heavily, shakily, and bent your knees to press a little harder into the feeling. 

Up, down, press. Up, down, press. He circled your clit through the fabric, pressing against the pulsing little bud. Up, down, press, drag up, drag down, press. You were panting into the air, face contorted, mouth up and head tilted up, resting against his shoulder. Your eyes were screwed shut, hips moving to chase the motions. He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against your ear, held you tighter against his body. 

You were both standing in the middle of the large studio, bathed in the early evening light. Your hands clenched a little harder against his sides. The warm tendrils were lasting longer, becoming more frenzied, curling up into your stomach and making your hole flutter. His right hand moved up and cupped your breast, gripping firmly and burning the heat of his hand into the flesh. 

You were engulfed by him, wrapped up in both his arms as he pressed his fingers harder and quicker against the seam of your core, moving up and down, pressing and releasing. He ran the edge of his thumbnail against the fabric over your nipple and your pelvis shook. You writhed in his arms at the spark it shot to your core, at the electric pulse it created and ultimately pushed you over the precipice. A moan, a high-pitched whine shot from your mouth, echoing in the room. You pressed yourself so hard against him he almost lost his balance, moving one foot back to keep the two of you upright. Your hands hurt from how stiff they became clenched into the fabric of his shirt. 

Slowly, he released the pressure against your core. He grazed his finger up until he could press his hand to your stomach again. He left it there and the two of you heaved breaths in sync. You began to flutter your eyes open, still lost in the blood rushing through your head. His right hand came up and gripped your chin, pushing it so you faced to the left where his head had dropped down. He leaned back a little, you tilted forward a smidge, your eyes met. Your lips were still parted, his mirrored. Then he surged forward, pressing his mouth to yours, his nose sliding into the crease between your cheek and nose. He tasted warm and minty. His lips were plush and cushiony soft. He pulled away and you looked into his eyes again. 

Neither of you said a word.

Taglist: @4ria790

[cynifer]

So one of my mutuals put a bug in my bonnet, and I'm not going to be able to write about anything else until I get this out, so...strap in.

One of the things that stuck with me from yesterday's panels was Jared blaming The French Mistake for why people ask Google if J2 are still friends.

As someone pointed out to me, throughout the run of SPN, there were always fan theories/conspiracies about J2 either not actually being friends or just not getting along. I mean, that is literally why they included it in The French Mistake, right? They added all kinds of nods to the fandom and in-jokes only people who worked on the show would get...that's what they told us. So, yeah, it isn't 'new' to the fandom.

But The French Mistake aired almost fourteen years ago. I promise you, and Jared knows this as well, that no one is Googling "Are Jensen and Jared still friends" because of a repeated line in a fourteen-year-old episode of Supernatural.

You know what is more current? Prequelgate. (Not the best name but definitely one folks remember. And I guarantee J2 know the word.)

With his drunken twitter rants attacking Jensen and Robbie, Jared made sure his rabid fan base was put on alert...and they answered the call. As far as I'm concerned, he helped put a nail in the coffin of The Winchesters before there was even a draft of the first script - yet still painted himself as the victim.

And this was merely months after he very vocally and repeatedly reminded people that in spite of how it affected Jensen, the finale, in his eyes, was perfect because Sam got his. Which is to say, post-finale, Jared wasn't exactly being the supportive friend you'd expect to Jensen after fifteen years of "brotherhood."

So, Jared and Jared's fans, let's not pretend what happened didn't happen. Jared won't bring up prequelgate because he knows how bad it makes him look. He knows that reminding people that Jensen trusted him so little that he didn't tell him about it is a reflection on him, not Jensen. He knows his drunken twitter rants make him look like a thin-skinned, spineless, baby instead of a forty (plus)-year-old adult who has been in the industry half of his life.

So because he can't bring that up, he insults the intelligence of the fans (well, the fans who weren't sitting in that audience eager to lap up whatever bullshit he fed them) by bringing up a fourteen-year-old episode and using it to mock fans who know what happened and know what we saw.

It's just another chapter in the book of how shitty Jared is. And once again, while most of us see him out there with his whole ass hanging out, his fans will cling to it because, without Jared's gaslighting, all they have is a man-child desperate for validation from the guy standing next to him who seems to only give it to him when Jared's fans push him to do so.

And what kind of existence is THAT?

[o0anapher0o]

Okay, I know I’m late to the party and this has probably been discussed to death, but I have thoughts and they need out.

I’ve been a Star Trek fan all my life so I’m very familiar with writers on a show going “You know what would be a cool idea? A surprise reveal that retroactively changes everything. Plot holes? What do you mean plot holes? It’s called texture.” But even with that background the Iris is Carlos’ secret wife plot was one of the dumbest, least well thought out reveals I have ever seen and that includes Spock getting a surprise secret sibling twice.

It’s just created this weird Discworld-logic phenomenon where Carlos in season 4 has been married to Iris for nearly ten years, but they definitely weren’t married last season (or at least in 1&2). And here’s the thing that bugs me so much: I understand why they wrote it and it works for the characters, it just makes absolutely no sense within the established canon of the show. Like, do I believe Carlos is the type who would get hetero married to his best friend to placate his parents and then not tell his boyfriend about it until he absolutely had to? I love Carlos, but yes, 100% he would do that. Unfortunately we have absolutely no indication that he so much as met Iris before 4x01. The way Carlos story had been told before it makes no sense narratively or emotionally.

In season one Carlos is introduced explicitly as Michelle’s friend and it’s heavily implied they only met through the investigation of her sister’s disappearance. While that is never explicitly stated and I’m willing to suspend my disbelieve here, the fact is that Carlos is involved in and contributes significantly to the investigation, an investigation he wouldn’t get anywhere near if he was Iris’ husband, in fact he would likely be a main suspect (from a police perspective the situation is that a (white) woman, married to her (latino) husband disappeared after a fight with her boyfriend. Once she was presumed dead the most likely scenario is that either the boyfriend or the husband did it).

But even if we neglect realism in proceedings (which, fair in a show that has a fucking volcano in the middle of Austin), Carlos being best friends and married to Iris would have had a different emotional impact. For one thing his relationship with Michelle would be different. As we see him, Carlos is a friend to Michelle, supporting her in her loss, but there is no indication that they share that loss. And if Iris had been Carlos best friend you cannot tell me Michelle wouldn’t have thrown that in his face everytime he tried to get her to accept that Iris might be dead. Michelle is not one to refrain from a little guilt tripping if it gets her what she wants. But she is also an empathetic person, who would have told her friend when they found Iris alive. (Technically the hospital would have probably called him that they had his wife but) there should have at least been an attempt to contact him when she does find her. As it is we don’t even see Carlos find out about Iris being alive and Michelle literally tells Owen before she even considers telling Carlos (literally she doesn’t even look at him when he comes to the firehouse to pick up TK).

And it continues in season two. If Carlos was married to Iris (and his parents canonically know about it, which is of course the point) then his relationship with his parents in season 2 doesn’t make any sense.

Carlos is estranged from his parents because he believes they don’t accept him being gay and them not having talked about it since he came out to them means they’re still hoping it was just a phase and he would change his mind. The thing is if Carlos came out as gay to his parents at 17 and then married a woman 2-3 years later that hope/opinion would be entirely justified because to them that would have been exactly what happened. Even if they know the marriage is basically over, he still married a woman after he told them he never would so he must have changed his mind, right? How are they supposed to know the marriage was the error and not the coming out, especially if they never talked about it. There is a huge difference between ‘I don’t want to rub their noses in [something they might not like me for]’ and ‘they think I’m not actually gay because I went so far as to marry a woman to make them happy’. One is not advertising your queerness were you think it’s not welcomed the other is deliberately stepping back in the closet. In the latter case it makes no sense for Carlos parents to accept his sexuality and relationship with TK without at least asking about Iris and confusion at meeting Carlos ‘friend from work’ would have been justified.

Tl:dr Carlos being best friends with and married to Iris doesn’t make sense with anything established in seasons 1 and 2. It doesn’t work for his relationships with the people who would have known about it and it doesn’t work from a purely practical this-is-how-the-world-works standpoint either. Carlos in the early seasons did not know Iris and had no relationship with her beyond her being his friend’s missing sister.

[lesbiansforboromir]

oh OH hO spicey ohhh having a spicey little tantrum about the boromir tag don't listen to me at all do NOT listen I mean it I mean it this is so petty

[lesbiansanemi]

I am so fucking sick of living with my roommate and his fuck ass boyfriend. Also watching my roommate burn every single one of his (already rather minimal, I might add) bridges for this guy is also kind of painful but also his relationship with me is one of said bridges so I'm almost past the point of even feeling bad for him lmao

[cherryys]

seeing people say megumi is treated as an object in the entire series and he only exists to give sukuna the 10S like... Ok way to just tell me you've been reading the manga with your eyes closed

[orchideae]

1) Opens up drafts with my head empty, ready to be flooded, not knowing where I'll go. 2) 30 seconds later: Okay but I will go feral any day of my life over Perilous Trail, and the fierce dichotomy of Xiao and Yelan. While they're far from being 'the same', they both view themselves as soldiers in one way or another (it's a very difficult word to use for Yelan, so I'm using it very liberally and very loosely), they have both suffered losses on the 'battlefield' and carry the burden thereof in their own ways. And yet they stand so firmly in opposition throughout the entirety of that questline up until the very end of the 'the end of the line' conclusion of the quest. Yes, I know that she offers him her gratitude in its aftermath and it is genuine, but she still never agrees with him and the decision that he made moments earlier. It simply 'worked out' because of Zhongli's interference, he's the only reason it worked out. And it's because of that, that she doesn't give him a hell of a hard time (obviously she can't go down there, but imagine the inner frustration of severe extents; when you condemn someone who you can't even see anymore). In the same way that she would do to anyone who would sacrifice themselves for others, but in this case, I think it's 'beautiful' that it's to Xiao; the one who seems most adamant to do so (which honestly, fits into the contract that the Yakshas chose to sign with Morax; 'the ultimate sacrifice' to protect for Liyue; 'for Liyue', and Liyue has always centered itself around its people), the one who everyone reveres (and so does she, as she notes in her voiceline, 'if I ever have the honor to fight alongside') and respects for good reason, she stands against him, because in that moment, regardless of his status, he makes a call that she considers wrong. And he doesn't even... fight her on it very fiercely, and that's what actually hurts me the most, it's as if the following line hit the nail directly on the head?

"Besides, if you were really so determined to end it all, you wouldn't have given us the opportunity to share our opinions."

[lem-argentum]

playing ff.xiv blind as a th.ancred fan from the beginning is so funny. “hmm i wonder where than is- WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE WAS POSSESSED BY ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL BEINGS IN THE UNIVERSE….....” “hmm i wonder what happened to than after he was teleported from the- HIS ABILITY TO INTERACT WITH THE NATURAL ENERGY OF THE WORLD WAS SEVERED AND HE HAD TO FEND FOR HIMSELF FOR MONTHS IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE????” “yaay than gets to help us with planning our defenses :D- DID HE JUST DIEoh he’s not dead his soul was just RIPPED AWAY TO ANOTJEJR WORLD????!?!?” “ohh he gets to fight r.yne’s awful guardian figure i wonder what he’s gonna- DID HE JUST DIEoh he’s fine nevermind he gets to have resolved character development now :)” “aww okay we get to go to the end of the universe together, and he’s already gone through so much so clearly nothing bad will happen to hDID HE J

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty

[elfindreams]

I am a normal person with a job and various normal hobbies but also if you sliced open my brain you would find a region which has existed for years and is singularly dedicated to storing my needlessly overspecific post-OOT / MM Zelda headcanons covering the span of several in-universe decades and in fact aren’t headcanons because they are all completely correct and accurate and ~thematic~

[astonmartinii]

little lion | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem young mum!reader

journalists go digging in max's past and think they've found f1's next big scandal - but they underestimate just how protective max is of his little lion

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1tea

liked by user5, user6 and 23,095 others

f1tea: this is y/n y/ln the supposed baby momma of max verstappen. not much is known about her, with her only going back to work recently as a therapist in monaco.

her and max had their baby, a girl, back when they were 17 in 2015. max has never been seen in public with the child and has never publicly claimed her either.

will we see her in the paddock now all the news is out?

view all comments

user7: holy shit this is insane

user8: this poor girl doesn't deserve this

user9: literally, either max is a present father and is just private or he doesn't have anything to do with them? but it coming out like this is probably stressful regardless

user10: also by my calculations, the baby will be nearly nine, so probably has a concept of fame and celebrity and if they haven't gone to a race it's probably for a reason

user11: i mean the way people are already talking about them proves them right already

user12: ted kravitz telling it like it is 🤲

user13: no he's not ??? he basically went on broadcast to call y/n a slut and try and say that he was 'always right about max because this proves he is reckless'

user14: once again, this child is eight and could understand some of this if they see it

user15: also the incidents ted is bringing up happened EIGHT YEARS AGO stop bringing a child into your weird agenda

user16: if he's not careful red bull will ban sky from their media run again

user17: i found her instagram and max, alex and daniel all follow her so it's defo legit

user18: i also found it but it's private :(

user19: i tried to follow but got blocked :/

user20: do you people have rocks for brains if it's private it means we're not meant to find it, if she's not spoken about it in eight years that means IT'S NOT OUR BUSINESS

user21: someone tell max to get a DNA test asap, gold diggers will do anything for money and fame

user22: what fame? she's got like 400 followers and has never spoken about max to any media outlet

user23: the way you people jump to gold digging allegations kill me

user24: also if max is the dead beat that sky are trying to make him out to be and y/n is a gold digger then why haven't we seen some child support claims and whatnot

user25: you have no shame posting this, if she didn't want to be found she doesn't want to be found

user26: f1 vultures at their best

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,389,774 others

maxverstappen1: i've seen a lot of journalists and 'professionals' trying to point score with the 'big revelation' of my daughter. sydney is the love of my life and for someone who grew up in the public eye i thought it would be best to keep my daughter away from the circus. not that i owe it to any of you people, but i see syd as much as i possibly can and i didn't want to post her or bring her to the paddock until she could make that choice for herself. y/n is a wonderful mother and is the exact support system i would want for my daughter.

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user27: MAX IS A GIRL DAD?

user28: congratulations media and internet you forced him to expose his kid

user29: the way they probably see this as a victory annoys me to my core

yourusername: you're an amazing father max, don't let them tell you anything else. sydney loves you and that's all that matters.

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n, i miss you both - see you this weekend!

yourusername: we look forward to it! x

user30: she didn't say that she loves him too so they're defo not together

user31: will you people ever learn to read the room?

user32: oh wow so max does see his daughter - watch sky still run with the deadbeat angle

user33: they were so shameless about his SLEEP SCHEDULE i cannot imagine the shit crofty is going to throw at him over this

danielricciardo: i'm sorry for how this has all come out max but i'm so glad i can publicly express my love for my god daughter!

maxverstappen1: this might mean that you can give her all of your gifts in person (if she wants to come) lord knows i can never fit them back in my suitcase

user34: you literally have a private jet?

maxverstappen1: you underestimate how seriously daniel takes being a god parent

danielricciardo: i think i'm singlehandedly keeping jellycat in business tbf

yourusername: and ikea, i have to buy a new shelving unit every couple of weeks daniel

danielricciardo: SYD IS MY BEST FRIEND LEAVE ME ALONE

user35: drop 💥 the 💥 daniel 💥 and 💥 sydney 💥 photos 💥 now 💥

user36: actually don't i don't think my baby fever can take it

alexalbon: you're an amazing father max and sydney is the coolest girl in the world!

maxverstappen1: thank you alex 😊

alexalbon: also if you ever convince y/n to come to races PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make her bake me some of her iconic brownies

yourusername: alex you know i can just bake you some and send them to you via max

alexalbon: please 😫😫😫

yourusername: no worries albono, you're a growing boy you need the nutrients

maxverstappen1: they're brownies

alexalbon: i need y/n's brownies to deal with YOU

maxverstappen1: ok maybe this is why i don't want to introduce you all :(

yourusername: don't worry maxie i'll make you some goodies to go

maxverstappen1: thank you :)

user37: she makes him to-go goodies 🥹

yourusername

liked by feranandoalo_oficial, danielricciardo and 319,506 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm not very happy that i have to make this statement like this because people couldn't respect the boundaries max and i have set as parents but alas: max is the loveliest man in the world and the best father sydney could ask for. he has a very busy life but he still makes as much time as possible for syd and she loves him very much. max has been in the spotlight from a very young age and did not want that pressure and spectacle on his own daughter. we may have never been together, but max has never been the monster you're trying to make him out to be. please respect my daughter's privacy. thank you.

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user41: once again, this is a very cute family but god this is a horrible way to find out about them :(

user42: i hope they know so so many of us are supporting them

danielricciardo: syd has grown so much i actually feel kind of sick

yourusername: i was a mess on her first day of school :(

danielricciardo: oh i can imagine ... max never told us but i'm sure he was his usual stoic self

yourusername: he tried, but we did both cry over a carton of ice cream for the whole morning

maxverstappen1: IT WAS A VERY EMOTIONAL MORNING

yourusername: it really was 🥺

user43: i'm sorry but why do two europeans have a daughter called SYDNEY?

maxverstappen1: she's nearly eight... i made my f1 debut in australia eight years ago... i can't hold your hand any more than that

user44: LMAOOOOOOO

danielricciardo: i am HURT i thought she was named after her beloved god father?

yourusername: if that was the case do you not think we would've gone for the more obvious option of DANIELLE???

maxverstappen1: also you were just an acquaintance and childhood crush at that point daniel

yourusername: omg childhood crush on daniel SNAP

danielricciardo: i'm not that old???

maxverstappen1: we have such good taste

yourusername: we REALLY do

user44: so like they're defo flirting right?

user45: ugh you people have no class (i hope so)

landonorris: i'm so sorry for you guys BUT THANK GOD IT WAS SO HARD TO KEEP HER A SECRET

maxverstappen1: i mean y/n and i kept her a secret for like nearly eight years 🤨

yourusername: i also 100% caught your slip ups you're just lucky there was never any rumour at those times

landonorris: I AM A BLABBERMOUTH PLEASE BE PROUD OF ME

maxverstappen1: fine?

yourusername: i'd be more proud but everyone else also kept the secret sooooo ???

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 894,503 others

tagged: lilymunhe, yourusername

alexalbon: with permission i am now allowed to post my bestest friend in the world!

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user46: god has heard my prayers and gave me my alex and sydney content

user47: i'd say what a random pairing but i think my brain just blocked out alex at red bull as a trauma response

alexalbon: lord knows i only got through being locked in the sim with y/n's brownies and hugs from syd

yourusername: syd asked for her favourite uncle to score more points so we can get ice cream again

alexalbon: i'll fix the damn williams myself

yourusername: hurry up she's getting impatient (i have no clue where she gets that from)

maxverstappen1: I AM NOT IMPATIENT I JUST LIKE THINGS BEING DONE IN A PROMPT MANNER

yourusername: is that what you tell the engineers?

maxverstappen1: ... something along those lines

yourusername: are you going to get more community service?

maxverstappen1: i don't think there were any cameras ???

user48: so max doesn't believe in not swearing around kids... how bad is it with sydney?

maxverstappen1: i am on my BEST behaviour for her

alexalbon: she's like a little sailor

maxverstappen1: in my defence she's much cuter when she swears than me

charles_leclerc: is this why she called me a wanker when i didn't bring leo to the house?

yourusername: i fear that has alex albon written all over it

alexalbon: whoops!

lilymunhe: we need another play date asap !! he goes so mushy i can get him to do all the cute dates i wanna do

yourusername: is that why i got given a badly painted mug?

alexalbon: hey! i worked very hard on that :(

maxverstappen1: i thought sydney painted it alex

alexalbon: can you guys stop ganging up on me :(((((

yourusername: no!

maxverstappen1: 😘

user49: feeling some ... tension here

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,450,987 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: guess who wanted to come see dad at work?

view all comments

user51: oh she really is max verstappen's daughter with that cold middle finger to ted kravitz

user52: are they going to make an eight year old do community service as well?

yourusername: great now she's attached to the engineers

maxverstappen1: oh noooooooooo how will we ever cope??? maybe we should all go to every race ???

yourusername: that would be very convenient, wouldn't it?

maxverstappen1: i can see you smiling while typing, i don't think you're as opposed as you say you are

yourusername: you got me! i like to see syd happy :(

maxverstappen1: and me...?

yourusername: and you, i guess 😚

user53: so like are we just going to ignore all of this ^^ and the second picture?

user54: it would be nice that through all the shit they've had thrown at them that they got together through it

danielricciardo: he's been waiting long enough

maxverstappen1: DANIEL???

danielricciardo: what ???

user55: daniel, thank you for your service

user56: i mean we've seen them at one race and it's crazy to think they're not together

alexalbon: why did i have to track my bestie down at the hotel? you verstappens too good for the williams garage?

yourusername: we were busy !!!

alexalbon: franco is distraught

francocolapinto: i am?

alexalbon: yes!!!!

francocolapinto: i am!

maxverstappen1: stop yapping for the love of god i was getting my shit together - something YOU told me to do

alexalbon: fine... i guess

user57: so like that's confirmation right?

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 2,349,855 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm still reporting all you journalists to the ethics boards but i guess something good did come out of all of this

view all comments

user58: FUCK SKY SPORTS BUT THANK THE LORD THIS IS SO CUTE

user59: a family that flips off ted kravitz together, stays together!

user60: y/n's dirty look at him will forever be legendary

maxverstappen1: i've always loved you, and i've loved playing the long game with you and prioritising syd !! here's to the rest of our lives xx

yourusername: i've always loved you too but as convoluted as it has been i think this has been the best way to be - all love to syd first

maxverstappen1: but now we can cut the shit and do all the cute things without it having to be a 'play date'

yourusername: i love you dummy, but your cats are mine now

maxverstappen1: they've always been yours, just like me

user61: okay fuck you guys this is too fucking cute

user62: no because i'm too chronically lonely to read this this morning

landonorris: FINALLY, I COULDN'T KEEP ANOTHER SECRET FOR MUCH LONGER

danielricciardo: booooooo, we've all kept this secret you're not special

landonorris: i thought i was the only one who max told about his feelings? like literally on the podium when he saw y/n and syd watching?

oscarpiastri: i think you just can't read people lando, even i knew max liked y/n and i've only seen them interact THIS WEEKEND

alexalbon: we've all known forever lando, you're not getting sympathy for keeping the secret for 12 hours

user63: the grid being so protective of the lil family is so cute

user64: i read that george got the GDPA to sign a petition that the media couldn't ask about syd before max was ready to start the conversation himself

user65: also by the sounds of it, they've been rooting for this relationship just as long as max and y/n

maxverstappen1: i'm so lucky to have two amazing girls in my life, i'll love you forever and as long as you'll have me

yourusername: now i have you, i'm never letting you go

maxverstappen1: right back at you

yourusername: you're the bestest father ever and the love of my life, never let anyone tell you anything else my gentle boy

maxverstappen1: i love you both more than anything ever, you're my guardian angel and syd is my favourite little lion

fin.

note: HAPPY MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN BIRTHDAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE !!!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Fever

Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK

A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met. 

His dark, curly hair. 

His mustache. 

His sweet brown puppy dog eyes. 

His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio. 

Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact. 

Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was. 

That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating. 

And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible. 

You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head. 

God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up. 

As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed. 

Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he- 

“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up. 

“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window. 

“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.” 

And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response. 

“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts. 

“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal. 

“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-” 

Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg

“Who the fuck is calling me this early…” 

Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer. 

“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.” 

“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment. 

“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.” 

“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yo prometo (I promise).” 

Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain. 

You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core. 

While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating.  You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you. 

After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent. 

Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me today…”  You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life. 

It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day. 

You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.  

As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance. 

Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath. 

“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!” 

Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it. 

Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome. 

“H-hi baby. Everything okay?” 

“Mhmmmmmm.” 

“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion. 

“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other. 

“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.” 

Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you. 

“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you. 

“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-” 

This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.  

As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first. 

“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft. 

“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?” 

Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 

For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust.  Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.” 

Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.  

“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension. 

“Fucking right it is.” 

His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him. 

You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved. 

“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.” 

And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-” 

In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. 

You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand. 

“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone. 

“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.  

“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” 

“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.” 

If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be. 

“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.” 

Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls. 

Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck. 

Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.  

“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours. 

Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him. 

As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses. 

The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.

“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he. 

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”  

 Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.” 

That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.

“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!” 

As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy. 

“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!” 

With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other. 

After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him. 

His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take. 

Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight. 

“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child. 

“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?” 

“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?” 

“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?” 

“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.” 

“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow. 

“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband. 

“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”  

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