#they’re looking for all the security they can get with no home to go to at the end of the day
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headfullof-ideas · 1 month ago
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Due to having no village or bed to go back to at the end of a long day of adventuring and traveling, the Riders have gotten accustomed to sleeping out under the stars. Lean-to’s, camps, caves, cuddle piles, and other sleeping arrangements have all been implemented in various different ways, but everyone LOVES sleeping with their dragon. However. This is a competitive bunch, and arguments have been had over whose dragon is the best to sleep with. No one is able to come to an agreement on which dragon is the best to cuddle with, because everyone is incredibly biased toward their own dragon. After a week straight of heavy arguing and debating that was getting to the point of impeding their ability to do regular chores and tasks, a compromise was made where everyone was allowed to agree to disagree, but everyone had to agree which dragon was best at certain snuggle factors.
The end verdict was this: Hookfang was the warmest to cuddle with, which means he’s perfect for doggy piles in the middle of winter or a cold night, or after a sudden dip in cold water, and as the largest dragon was the best for group cuddles. Meatlug is the gentlest to snuggle, in that she won’t jostle you a lot as she shifts in her sleep, and she has the best bedside manners and personality. Barf and Belch are the best to actually snuggle, as they are the easiest to actually hold on to while sleeping, and he has the added benefit of snuggling you back with his necks or using them to make a makeshift sort of nest to sleep in, so he feels the most secure to snuggle with. Ardyn however is the comfiest to sleep on because she has fur, but that’s only if you sleep on her back. She’s a bit slow to get comfortable, but she’s very lax once she is and the least likely to get annoyed if you accidentally kick her in your sleep. Toothless is the cuddliest, but only if he’s comfortable with you, and he has the added advantage of purring and biscuit making, which he is very gentle in doing with whoever (almost always Ant) he’s snuggling, so he’s basically a giant cat. He’s also the easiest to get comfortable with, due to having no protruding spikes or bumps for someone to fight against.
However, everyone is able to agree that snuggling with your dragon after a long day is the best thing ever
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Was this an excuse to draw the Riders snuggling with their dragons?…maybe. I was gonna already but I also needed an excuse to share this tiny debate I pictured the Riders having in my head. So no complaining, I give you dragon snuggles!
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bravevolunteer · 1 year ago
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breaking my silence. i really do not like the idea of the sister location warehouse being underneath the afton house
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yanderenightmare · 13 days ago
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Can you write more for naoya zenin? Your writting is soo good omg, i was thinking about ex husband naoya
Naoya Zenin
♡ TW: toxic relationship, toxic family, arranged marriage, obsessiveness, possessiveness, denied divorce, abuse, kidnapping
♡ FEM reader
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Ex-husband Naoya, who refuses to sign the papers as there’s no such thing as divorce in the Zenin clan—who says it’s shameful and that you should know better than to think you can just walk away from him just like that.
Ex-husband Naoya, who is very clear about it—how if you leave, it will be with nothing to your name—nothing but the clothes on your back, and barely even that—because everything you have is owned by him—and the only reason he’s ever been willing to share it is because you’ve paid for it in his bed.
Ex-husband Naoya, who can’t believe it when you leave him anyway—who’s certain he’s coming home to a dutiful wife, all silly ideas put to rest, sweetly apologetic for ever having raised the thought—but instead comes home to a quiet, cold, and empty house—divorce papers the only trace you’ve left behind.
Ex-husband Naoya, who immediately has the Zenin clan shun your clan and makes sure all other clans do the same, completely cutting you off—telling your clan leaders that until they deliver on their side of their alliance and have you return to your rightful place, their clan is to be held in contempt.
Your family begs you to go back to him, to stop this rebellion you’re so childishly insisting on. Your father even commands you, but you’re done taking orders from men—and their brainwashed wives. You don’t owe them anything—they’re the ones who sold you off to that misogynistic madman in the first place. Serves them right to suffer the way you have.
And so, you go off on your own. 
But with his resources, ex-husband Naoya’s always able to find you—and make your life hell. Any job you manage to get fires you only a few weeks later for reasons unknown—encouraged by a silent donation—and realtors will suddenly tell you that the apartment you’ve been interested in is off the market.
Ex-husband Naoya, who comes to collect you from the woman’s shelter you’ve taken refuge at, fed-up and beyond ready to put an end to whatever it is you think you’re up to.
“I don’t have any more time for this nonsense of yours,” he says— patronizing tone making him look ugly and nothing like the great man he thinks he is. “You’re out of money, and you’re out of places to run. Come with me now, and I will still allow you a gracious return.” 
Ex-husband Naoya, who really must be the most entitled man in the world.
“Make me waste any more time, and I’ll—”
“Fuck your gracious return,” you cut him off, continuing with a sneer, “Only way I’m going anywhere with you is kicking and screaming. Now get the fuck out before I call security and have you arrested.”
Ex-husband Naoya, who looks at you as if you’ve gone mad, then proceeds to feel driven insane himself—laughing at your threat like it was all a really funny joke.
“I’ve been lenient enough with you, humoring this little rebellion of yours, allowing you to come home on your own,” he says, his voice whispy with breath, just shy of unhinged—then dead and cold come his next words, “But I see now… I’ve been too indulgent.” 
Ex-husband Naoya, who meant it when he said he was done playing games.
Ex-husband Naoya, who doesn’t have an issue with your kicking and screaming.
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♡ NAOYA ZENIN masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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reidalert · 5 months ago
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IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY | spencer.reid
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| spencer reid & fem!reader 3.1k words
| content: a case has you feeling helpless and guilty, and no matter who consoles you, nothing helps. maybe all you need is to take a break, but what if the break is being risky with dr. reid?
| warnings: mentions of death/kidnapping, flashback to the case, reader feeling vulnerable
| author’s note: i haven’t written in a longgg time and boy does it feel good to finally get these words out of my head. it feels like a privilege to get my writing spark back & i can’t wait to share all my ideas with you. i hope you enjoy reading <3
| masterlist
feedback and comments are highly appreciated!
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You have thick skin.
Well, that’s what you say to anyone who asks if you’re okay.
But after today? After this case? You’re not sure if that’s true anymore. You don’t get affected easily, not when it comes to blood and gore. You’ve homed in on keeping your reactions and feelings at bay when it comes to that… but what happened out there? It’s made you feel helpless.
You knew from the minute JJ briefed you back at the BAU that this case was something you hadn’t dealt with before. Even Agent Hotchner had asked if you wanted to sit this one out.
But you said no. You wanted to get more experience to become a better profiler and a better agent. And it came at a cost.
You feel like an outsider. Like you’re watching yourself from an outside perspective as you go through airport security. The endless whir of machines and planes landing and taking off in the background do nothing for the thoughts racing in your mind.
You’re the last to be cleared and you know the others are watching you. Their eyes burning through your skin and doing what they do best. Profiling.
You don’t meet their gaze. You know as soon as you make eye contact with one of them, they’ll be asking you questions and it’ll make you torture yourself about whether you’re fit for this job. So, you make your way through the long and endless corridors until you’re at the gate for the jet.
The dull whirring of the jet engines helps you zone out. The leather seats are a cool comfort to your heated self.
Logically, it would make sense to let them know you’re not doing okay and that you need some time to yourself. But who are you kidding? You’re a thick skinned woman who can do anything… so you’ve made them believe.
You’re sitting on the farthest seat in the jet, right in the corner away from everyone else. You can’t deal with the questions you know they’re going to ask you.
But apparently, that doesn’t stop Agent Hotchner from taking the seat opposite you.
“I know what you’re gonna say.” You break the silence but continue staring out the oval window. The city lights below turn smaller and smaller as you progress through the flight.
“And what’s that?” Agent Hotchner asks. You’re not happy he’s here, invading your little self-pity bubble, but you do appreciate the way he keeps his voice quiet.
You shrug. “That something has upset me. Or that I’m too in my head about this case. Along those lines, anyway.”
Agent Hotchner regards you for a moment. You can feel his eyes staring at the side of your face as you purposefully stay looking out the window.
Because you know the second you make eye contact with him, he’ll see what’s going through your head. And he can’t.
“I gathered something was wrong.” His voice is low, a nice baritone that doesn't annoy you. “I know when someone in my team is different. And you’re different.”
You fight back the scoff that’s threatening to spill. “And what is that supposed to mean, Agent Hotchner?”
“Just…” he sighs. You’re very similar to Spencer Reid; in a way that you both struggle to admit when you need help. “If something is bothering you, I am here to listen.”
“Who says something is bothering me?” You kind of regret asking that question as you know damn well he’s about to go into an explanation of how he can see you’re upset.
He sits up a little straighter, hands clasped over his crossed knees. “You’re avoiding eye contact with me, your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the arm rests—”
“That’s nothing—”
“You’re interrupting me. You don’t like being analysed as it makes you vulnerable. You haven’t eaten anything in the past,” Agent Hotchner checks his watch. “Six hours. Your stomach is warring against your emotions and you don’t like that. You’re sitting in a corner trying to push yourself away from other people.”
“Okay.” You bite out, now finally giving in to looking him dead in the eyes. “You’re a great profiler. No need to showboat.”
“I’m not showboating.”
You roll your eyes, “Sure seems like it.”
A minute or two pass in silence. Agent Hotchner is still staring at you and you feel incredibly small under his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything.” He fixes his shirt cuffs, acting so nonchalant as if he didn’t just profile one of his team members.
You grit your teeth. “Fine. Today messed with my head. That case was… it was wrong. So wrong that I can’t stop thinking about how I could have helped that family.”
Agent Hotchner leans forward, gently placing his hand upon your own on the arm rest. You feel your grip loosen and you fight back a grimace at how cold his hand feels against your warm one. “It’s not your fault. We all know we could have done something different out there, but sometimes the unsub takes a surprise route. Things like this happen and it’s unfortunate, but don’t blame yourself.”
You shrug again, avoiding eye contact once again. “Yeah.”
He stands, pulling his suit jacket to fit more comfortably. “If you need to talk to someone, come to my office.”
You only offer a silent nod in answer.
“Oh, and Agent L/N? Stop calling me Agent Hotchner, Hotch is just fine.” He offers a small smile and you shake your head, going back to staring out the window until your eyes feel too heavy to keep open.
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“Why is there so much paperwork?” Your voice comes out all agitated as you rifle through a stupid amount of folders and loose paper.
Emily peeks over the cubicle dividing and raises an eyebrow. “You okay there?”
You sigh, slumping down onto your desk chair, spinning until you’re facing her side of the cubicle. “Do I sound okay to you? Who in their right mind decided to give me the goddamn paperwork for that goddamned case?” You glance around the wide room, trying to find JJ; this has to be her doing.
Emily purses her lips, “Doing paperwork isn’t that bad, Y/N. I mean, I guess there’s a lot but it’ll make the day go by quicker.”
“Oh, please.” You scoff, feeling yourself grow more annoyed by the minute. You know you need to get yourself in check, but the past 24 hours have ridden you like the Grim Reaper is taking jockey lessons in Hell.
“What’s got Little Miss Thick Skin so angry today?” Derek Morgan walks up to your desk, a hot mug of coffee in his hand. A brief thought had you biting your lip— it’d be wrong to spill it on him.
“Don’t start, please.” You rest your elbows on your desk, hands holding either side of your face as you stare at the paperwork. The names of the family you couldn’t save stare right back at you. Your stomach drops and you’re not sure how long you can stay in this office.
“Hey,” Derek places his mug on your desk before crouching down to your eye level. “What’s wrong, girl? If you don’t want to do the paperwork, I can take it off your hands. No big deal.”
You shake your head, “Don’t bother. I’m fine.”
Derek watches your face and you turn your head to look at him. “If you start profiling me, Morgan, I swear to God that coffee mug will end up in a place you really don’t want it.”
Derek chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, girl. Just tryna help ya out.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t need help. I’m fine.” You scoot your desk chair closer and grab the closest pen, tapping it against the top of your desk to distract you from the fact you have to relive this case just a day later.
You don’t catch it, but Derek and Emily share a knowing look. They’ve seen this before. It’s not hard to notice someone you spend days on end with is struggling.
Derek grabs his mug and pats you on the shoulder. Emily sinks back into her cubicle and makes sure to keep an eye on during the day. If she finds you with smoke coming out of your ears, she’ll go get the fire extinguisher.
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Your hand cramps as you write your final notes. The computer screen has turned too bright for your eyes and a headache begins to form behind your eyes. It’s been a long day.
Clicking the pen closed, you lean back against your chair with a deep sigh. You close your eyes just to rest them for a brief moment and scenes from yesterday plague you.
It’s like you can’t escape.
Your heart rate picks up speed. You’re not sure how it turned into a game of cat and mouse, but you’re adamant on putting a stop to it.
“What does he think he’s doing?” You’re standing with your palms pressed against a conference table in a police station in Washington. The projector casts a live shot of the news— a helicopter is chasing after the unsub in a car. The family you’re trying to protect is with him.
“He’s trying to flee.” Agent Rossi says, so matter of factly that it has you turning your attention to him instead.
You squint at him. “You saw this coming, didn’t you?”
He gestures to the screen. “You didn’t?”
“No, I did not.” You grit your teeth, moving so you’re now standing up straight. “I predicted he’d do something out of the blue. We all did. But we didn’t know he was going to kidnap them. That wasn’t part of his game.”
Rossi shrugs, “I’ve been in this job longer than you have, kiddo. It takes experience to know something like this. Don’t blame yourself.”
“What?” You let out a disbelieving scoff. “Listen here old man—”
“That’s enough.” Agent Hotchner cuts through your words, ending your little spat with Rossi. “We’re all here to do a job. So let’s do it.”
Faint footsteps sound behind you. You’re not sure who’s still in the office, but considering how late it is, there’s only a few people that come to mind.
“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” That all too recognisable voice makes your heart swoop. Spencer appears in your line of vision, his man-bag crossed over his torso. He looks ready to leave. “It’s nearly 7PM.”
“Oh.” You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. You didn’t realise that you were doing the paperwork for the Washington case for nearly 10 hours. “Guess I lost track of time.”
Spencer regards you for a minute. “Everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You offer a weak smile, not trying to be bitchy to him like you were to the others earlier. You make a mental note to apologise to them tomorrow.
“It’s just— nevermind.” He shakes his head.
Your brows furrow, “No, what is it?”
“Ever since we got on that plane yesterday, you’ve been hostile.” Spencer rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know you don’t like to be profiled, I don’t either, but I know something is wrong.”
You twist in your chair, facing your computer screen with your hands hovering over the keyboard. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to figure it out on your own.
“Y/N?” Spencer says your name and you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes all sparkly, his cheeks smooth, his lips… perfect.
You blink slowly. Your head isn’t in the right place, but your heart (and hormones) are.
You internally say fuck it and reach for the strap of his man-bag to pull him down to your level. Your breaths mingle and your eyes dart in a triangle from one eye to his lips to his other eye. And lo and behold, the triangle method actually works because Spencer leans in and you feel his lips ghost over your own.
And nothing.
He just stays in that position. Hunched down in your grip, lips mere millimetres away from your own and he doesn’t finish the job.
You breathe in a deep sigh, your senses being filled with his scent. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”
“I— I think it’s because I know you’re not yourself. It feels wrong.” Spencer's breath is minty as it fans over your cheeks and neck. You want to say something snarky, but you know he’s right. “I do want to kiss you, though. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”
You lean back a little, your eyes staring into his pretty brown ones. You don’t see a sign of a lie and your heart skips a beat. “Would it help if I admitted what’s going on? Would you kiss me then?” God, are you really that desperate to get kissed by Spencer Reid? Yes. Yes you are.
Spencer lowers into a crouch, one hand grips the armrest of your desk chair, whilst the other splays across your knee with a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’ll help me. Talk to me. Let me inside your pretty head.”
You reach out for his tie, fiddling with it to help your nerves. “You know I don’t like talking about how I feel, but this is something I can’t keep to myself anymore.”
Spencer nods, his hand on your knee giving you another squeeze. But this time in a reassuring way. That’s your go ahead sign to lay it all down.
“That case we did. The family where we couldn’t save them, where I couldn’t save them, keeps replaying in my head and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” You take a breath, your fingers still playing with his tie. “If we got there sooner, I know we could have stopped him from hurting them. From killing them. I feel like if I did or said something right or helpful, I could’ve saved them. I hate feeling like this because I know it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t help but feel guilty.”
Spencer stays quiet, letting your words sink in. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault.”
You sigh, dropping his tie and moving your attention to his face. To his lips.
“I wish I could go back in time and help.” You admit, feeling a small weight lift from your shoulders.
“I wish for that, too.” Spencer admits as well. Both of you find comfort in knowing you feel the same. It makes feeling like this just the little bit easier to deal with. “Thank you for sharing how you feel.”
You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for not dismissing me.”
“I could never dismiss you.” Spencer’s voice is soft and warm. His fingers slowly trail up and down your calf, sending a shiver through your body. “Would you like that kiss now?” The smirk on his lips has your stomach flipping and you want nothing more than for his lips to be on yours.
“I would very much like that kiss now.” You smile at him, leaning in and already feeling your body succumb to him. When your lips meet, you sigh. You’ve missed being able to be physical with him; it’s hard trying to stay colleagues when all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms.
Spencer lets his hands travel— up your thighs, round your back, cheekily up the hem of your dress. You moan lightly into his mouth and he swallows it.
Your hands grab for his collar to deepen the kiss. “More.” You mumble against his lips and he complies. Spencer bites your bottom lip to elicit a gasp from you so he can dive his tongue down your throat with ease.
You feel yourself involuntarily squeezing your thighs to quell the ache forming between your legs. God, you’d do anything to take him home with you right now.
Before you get a chance to start undoing his tie, a loud and clear cough comes from your right.
You stop moving but Spencer keeps going. Trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you now get a perfect view of Hotch standing outside his office with his arms crossed. You can’t make out what his face is portraying.
“Spence.” You tug on his collar, but he thinks you want him to go further. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up the column of your neck and you have to fight back a whimper.
You’d die on the spot if you let Aaron Hotchner hear you moaning.
“No. Spencer.” This time you push at his shoulders and the look he gives you makes you feel bad. But if you let him carry on, both of you would never be able to be in Hotch’s presence. Ever.
“Are you okay?” Spencer brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”
You shake your head, your fingers quickly straightening out Spencer's tie. “I loved it. You were good, but, um…” your eyes drift off to where Hotch is still standing.
It’s as if Spencer was zapped by lightning. He shoots back away from you, and somehow manages to hit every piece of furniture around him. You want to laugh but this situation doesn’t call for laughing. You’ve been caught by your boss making out in the middle of the BAU.
“Reid, L/N. Care to explain?” Hotch moves slowly down the stairs, his aura too strong for you to look him in the eyes right now.
You twiddle your thumbs. “He was just helping me finish this file report from the case yesterday.”
Hotch looks at Spencer, knowing that he’ll blab the truth. “She was upset about not being able to save them and I wanted to help ease her pain and—”
“That’s enough.” Hotch raises a hand. “Since it’s past working hours, I’ll make a one time allowance for this behaviour.”
You have a big sigh of relief and Spencer lets out an audible groan of embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right. It won’t.” Hotch checks his watch and frowns. “I’m late for something. Finish that report and I’ll see you both tomorrow. Behaving correctly.”
You nod your head and Spencer keeps his head down staring at the floor. You watch Hotch leave the office and you finally let out your cringing grimace. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was here. I thought he left already.”
“I can’t be mad. I got to kiss the prettiest girl in here.”
“Shut up.”
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Copyright credit to @reidalert as of 2024-present.
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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago
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Pocket Money Pt 2 | Lance Stroll x Reader
Summary: After some time apart, you and Lance realise your love and future mean more than fans' hateful comments
Warnings: Swearing. Sexual innuendos? Hateful fans
Female reader. All pics found on Pinterest.
prev.
F1 Masterlist
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astonmartinf1 just posted
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liked by chloestroll, scottyjames31 and others
astonmartinf1 fighting for points in imola. lance brings it home in P9, securing valuable points for the team #imolagp
5,396 comments
user1 lance stroll domination might bore some people
lance_stroll the car felt good this weekend. let’s keep it up, team
user2 just me or was lance looking a little happier this weekend than he has recently? 
YourUserName wonderful race result
liked by lance_stroll
→ user3 the first social media appearance we’ve had from y/n in weeks and it was in support of lance?!?! what does this mean
user4 does this mean they’re still together?
→ user5 nah he definitely dumped her ass and now she’s just trying to get him back
user6 y/n commented and lance liked it! please tell me they’re back together. most underrated but cutest couple on the grid
user7 @ YourUserName talk about trying too hard. he broke up with you, sweetie. let it go
user8 i know they’re more private but i need them to confirm they’re still together so i can sleep easy
astonmartinf1 @ YourUserName fancy paying us a visit in canada?
liked by YourUserName 
user9 not a bunch of you switching up like you weren’t calling for her head on a pike
→ user10 literally, you guys are probably the reason they broke up but now you’re acting like it’s not what you wanted, and the end of the world
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astonmartinf1 just posted
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liked by YourUserName, lance_stroll and others
astonmartinf1 all ready for race day tagged: lance_stroll, fernandoalo_official, YourUserName
4,889 comments
user11 omg lance looked so happy this weekend and i bet it was because y/n was there
fernandoalo_official y/n looks far better in lance’s helmet
→ YourUserName should put me in his seat next time
→ astonmartinf1 deal
→ lance_stroll my father will hear about this
→ YourUserName okay draco malfoy
chloestroll okay but i think i just fell in love with those eyes
→ scottyjames31 why are you never this publicly obsessed with me
→ chloestroll because you’re not y/n
→ danielricciardo she is the moment
BestFriend do NOT put her in the car. girly barely passed her driving test the second time
→ YourUserName you can shade me in our messages but publicly, you’re supposed to support me
→ lance_stroll you told me you did pass the first time
→ YourUserName no, i told you i tried really hard. and you claim to listen to me
→ lance_stroll i do! 
→ YourUserName it’s okay. i’m still proud of you
→ lance_stroll and i’ll still let you behind the wheel so long as the drive is less than 10 minutes
user12 is this confirmation that they’re back together!!
→ user13 it has to be. not only is she in the paddock but she’s on an official post AND lance commented in response to her
user14 so you’re still trying to tell me she’s NOT a fame whore? she vanishes from social media after being found out as a gold digger to come back on an f1 page
→ user15 seriously, what is your issue? lance looked happier this race than he has in weeks, and he scored some points. there’s obviously only one reason for that
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user1 agreed with @ daddynando. when you search her business, she is literally like second face you see after the ceo. she worked hard and deserves to flaunt it
→ user2 honestly. everyone talks about her being with lance for his money like she’s not loaded herself, and earnt it
→ user3 lance stroll wins for #1 wag because he’s always been so supportive of her and proud 
user4 funny how many of you have switched your opinion since finding out y/n is in charge of running a pretty wealthy company, and has enough money to keep herself comfortable without lance
user5 i also really miss y/n and lance. they were a more lowkey couple but he was always caught in the background of driver clips staring at her
→ user6 i won’t believe in love until they get back together 
→ user9 @ user6 you’re such a hypocrite. you literally have rts from two months ago of hateful tweets about her
user7 i’m so happy other people are finally being supportive of lance and y/n
user8 the way the two of them used to gush about starting a family and growing old together but the internet had to make her feel horrible about being in love 
user9 not that i’m not happy to see all this support for y/nance. i’m just wondering where you were when she was getting death threats?
user10 omg guys, lance just posted! 
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user11 aston martin reposted this as well
→ user12 so did f1
→ user13 and mclaren, redbull and mercedes
→ user14 and danny ric, charles leclerc and a whole bunch of the grid
→ user15 they really said, we’re fed up with all of you
user16 people who have actually met her in the paddock say she’s the nicest person ever so idk why all you keyboard warriors thought you knew better
user17 the grid really said “not our y/n”
user18 anyone else feel like that last sentence was a bit of a threat? 
→ user19 it’s because aston martin’s legal team located one of the women who was sending the most threats and served her 
→ user20 i love that the official F1 website did an article about this because it serves as a warning to others
→ user21 lance stroll will find you lol
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by lance_stroll, danielricciardo and others
YourUserName here’s what you missed on glee 
3,115 comments
user1 omg welcome back. we’ve missed you 
user2 excuse me but all the lance pictures. my favourite f1 couple are back together! 
lance_stroll my pretty girl 💚 but why did you have to post the ice-cream pic?
→ YourUserName but i also posted that hot pic with the chain 🤤
→ lance_stroll i thought we talked about that emoji
→ danielricciardo don’t try and change her
user3 woof woof (i can’t tell which of them i want to sleep with more)
user4 okay but the black shirt and the chain. i’m starting to see what miss y/n sees him in
YourBrother dude, i do not need to see your underwear on this app. please do not post what are clearly post-sex pics
→ YourUserName they were not! we did that the night before. this was me begging him not to leave for a meeting and get back in bed. he declined :( 
→ BestFriend how dare he! 
→ lance_stroll it was an important meeting! 
→ BestFriend and she’s an important person! 
estebanocon at least lance will stop moping now
→ lance_stroll i think i was allowed to mope! the love of my life was sad and in another country 
→ user5 ladies, get a man who simps over you like lance stroll  
chloestroll um, why am i not included in this photo dump? do i mean nothing to you?
→ lance_stroll how many times do i have to tell you that you’re not her favourite stroll
→ YourUserName it’s actually lawrence 
user6 do you know what i like seeing more than happy y/n and lance? no hate comments on y/n’s post. our queen is being respected and loved as she should be 
user7 excuse me, are those wedding pics in the background
→ YourUserName oops
lance_stroll just posted
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liked by alex_albon, fernandoalo_official and others
lance_stroll 💚🤍
4,006 comments
astonmartinf1 everybody stay calm! We are totally normal about this! 
→ user8 admin is all of us 
astonmartinf1 a huge congratulations to the newlyweds but we’re still disappointed that you didn’t have an aston martin themed wedding :( 
→ YourUserName we had an aston martin as our wedding car?
→ astonmartinf1 keep talking
→ user9 not admin acting like they didn't know this prior to y/n spilling on her recent post
YourUserName i love you, my darling husband
→ lance_stroll i love you more, my breathtaking wife. thank you for marrying me
→ user10 get someone who THANKS you for marrying them
danielricciardo what a beautiful day, mate. and what a gorgeous bride 
→ YourUserName no amount of compliments will make me forgive you 
→ danielricciardo i didn’t mean to! i was drunk
→ YourUserName you still kissed my husband
→ lance_stroll you promised you wouldn’t tell the internet! 
→ YourUserName i lied!
→ landonorris this marriage is off to a great start. nice work, ricciardo 
chloestroll have i stopped crying? not really. my baby brother and perfect sister-in-law
→ YourUserName i’m so lucky to call you my sister-in-law. although i think you’d do better as my wife ;)
→ chloestroll there’s still time
→ lance_stroll stop
→ scottyjames31 agreed
user11 i don’t understand how anyone could deny that these two truly love each other. the way they look at each other 
landonorris could you go be ridiculously in love somewhere else?
→ lance_stroll this is my instagram?
user12 omg they still got married on their original date
YourBrother nonna says it’s time for babies now
→ lance_stroll i’m trying my best
→ danielricciardo don’t tell the internet that you’re raw dogging every night
→ YourUserName that’s it. you’re blocked
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
YourUserName just posted
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liked by lance_stroll, georgerussell63 and others
YourUserName say hi to baby stroll
3,421 comments
lance_stroll my amazing family 🥰 y/n, you have given me the best gift by being my wife, and then by being my partner in parenting. i love you 
→ YourUserName why do you insist on making me cry, my heart. i love you and our family more than anything
user13 excuse me but where was the pregnancy announcement!
chloestroll baby and the bear
→ YourUserName baby stroll loves his bobo bear more than anything 
→ chloestroll what can i say, i’m the ultimate gift giver
→ lance_stroll you gave me an old vogue magazine for my birthday last year 
→ chloestroll yes but for your 18th, i got you a hot date who eventually turned into the love of your life so i think i’m off the hook until the end of days 
→ YourUserName i only agreed to it because i thought i would be YOUR hot date @ chloestroll 
→ lance_stroll i have feelings 
user14 we get their wedding and then we get nothing until they announce a whole ass baby 
scottyjames31 am i still banned from the stroll household?
→ lance_stroll idk will you stop bringing red bull baby stuff into my house
→ scottyjames31 but then how will he show that he’s uncle scotty’s #1 supporter
→ danielricciardo and uncle danny’s 
→ lance_stroll because he’s his dad’s #1 supporter 
→ danielricciardo @ scottyjames31 this is uncle erasure 
user15 when lance told us y/n wasn’t at races for the past 5 months because she was swamped at work, what he really meant was she was hiding a baby bump from us
user16 i knew her showing up in a different team hoodie every race was more than just a running joke! 
→ landonorris she wore those because she loves mclaren! she loves us! 
→ YourUserName debatable
→ landonorris i thought being a mum was supposed to make you nicer
→ YourUserName it did but you’re not my child 
user17 i know this is gross but from doing the math, he got her pregnant on their honeymoon
→ user18 faster than he is on track 
user19 um, mr stroll, we weren’t familiar with your game. those back muscles
→ YourUserName they’re what got me pregnant 
→ user20 um, hello mrs stroll. PR might be after you now 
→ astonmartinf1 she’s off the hook for now. we’re kind of hoping for them to make a grid’s worth of babies
→ user21 lawrence stroll ghost wrote this 
→ lance_stroll sounds like we need to get started on baby #2, sweetheart 
→ YourUserName only if you push this one out 
→ lance_stroll deal
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Hands up if you were shocked by Lance’s contract announcement today 😂 Never saw that coming
Baby Fever Angst Series
F1 Request are open! (They might just take some time)
Tag list
@callsignwidow @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @lav3nder-haze @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @lemon-lav @minkyungseokie @bibissparkles @peachiicherries @rosecentury @exotic-iris13
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itsallyscorner · 7 months ago
Text
Like Father, Like Son | CL16
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
summary: Leo is just as clingy as Charles. Some cute little fluff moments
warnings: none! Italics are flashbacks, if there’s any spelling errors pretend you didn’t see them x
author’s note: A little all over the place, but I hope you guys enjoy the read! First time writing for Charles, so I hope it’s decent :)
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Charles was a clingy boyfriend.
He knew it, you knew it, and everyone else who’s witnessed him practically attached to you knew it. But he couldn’t help it, Charles loved and adored every single part of you. Which was why he somehow needed to always be attached to you.
Whether you guys were at home, at the paddock, or just out and about, Charles always had to have you close. Majority of the time, he can be seen having his hand interlocked with yours or walking about with his arm around your waist. On rare occasions, fans have even spotted the Ferrari driver walking around while hugging you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder and hands connected at the front of your waist.
Fans melted at the sight of Charles being so clingy. His friends on the other hand—along with some fellow drivers on the grid—found Charles’s little habit as the perfect opportunity to tease him until he was as red as his race suit.
The Miami sun beamed on you as you and Charles entered the paddock. Immediately, fans recognized your boyfriend, calling him for his attention to sign merch and take pictures.
You gently released his hand, causing him to look at you with a pout, “Bébé, hold my hand.”
“Cha, they’re calling you and I know you want to go say hi.” You insisted, encouraging him to greet the fans by nudging him towards the barricades.
With a pout still on his face, Charles looked around, “You might get lost, it’s your first time here.” He knew you were fully capable of finding your way around the paddock and locating the Ferrari motorhome, but he just didn’t want you to leave his side. The moment he’d step into the Ferrari hospitality, he’d be pulled away from you to film content and do media. Which meant he wouldn’t see you till a couple of hours later. So basically, he was shamelessly finding excuses for you to stay with him.
“I’ll be fine, Joris is here and he’s going to hospitality too, I’ll just go with him.” You assured your boyfriend, motioning to his best friend behind you.
Charles’s brows furrowed together, his hand finding yours and tangling them together.
“Joris doesn’t know where the hospitality is.” Charles reasoned, obviously lying. Joris opened his mouth to object but quickly shut his mouth once his friend shot him a look.
“Please bébé, just come with me. They’re going to make me do media once I get there and I won’t see you till after.” Charles tried again to make you stay, slightly tugging on your hand. Joris shook his head at his best friend.
“Charles, your fans want to see you, they don’t want to see me. Just have some one on one time with them.” You encouraged him again, a slight smile on your face at how clingy your boyfriend was being.
“Nonsense, I’m sure they have some of those friendship bracelets you like so much. They’re always telling me to share them with you.” Charles said, dragging you along with him to the fans.
Once you get to the barricades, you’re approached by Lando and Fernando, who are already smirking at the both of you.
“Morning love birds!” Lando greeted you both, shifting his eye from Charles to you, “Is he holding you hostage again? Blink if you need help (y/n), security’s right there.”
Charles rolled his eyes at his friend, signing posters for a couple of fans and taking selfies with them.
“Pretty sure it’s going to take more than security to get him off of me.” You teased, raising your interlocked hands up and shaking it in the air. Charles paused the selfie he was about to take and turned to you with a feigned look of offense.
“I’m kidding, babe.” You smiled at him, rubbing your thumb over his hand. Fernando tsked at Charles playfully, “Ai, Charles no one is going to steal her away from you!”
A couple of the fans caught on with the banter you were all having and decided to join in.
“WE’LL STEAL HER!” A fan screamed.
“CAN WE HAVE (Y/N)?” Another fan from the back chimed in. Charles’s eyes widened at the crowd in front of him, a slight blush on his cheeks from all the teasing.
“You guys are all mean!” He jokingly yelled at the fans, pulling you away with him as he ran towards the garages.
While your boyfriend was clingy, you did not hate it one single bit. Majority of the time, you weren’t in the same time zones, so all the cuddling and hand holding made up for lost time.
Charles hated being away from you. He hated it even more when you were at his apartment in Monaco, sleeping in your shared bed without him after admitting how much you missed him. He knew you understood why he had to travel so much, it came with his job, but he still felt guilty leaving you alone so often.
Which is how you both ended up with sweet Leo.
Charles watched through his phone as you adjusted yourself in bed. You were in your pajamas, your nightly skin routine was done, and you were ready for bed. Before you can settle, you grabbed Charles’s pillow and cuddled it.
“I miss you, Cha.” You hummed quietly. You looked so cuddly, the blankets were pulled up to your chin and the pillows looked so fluffy around you. He wished he were there to snuggle up beside you and hide his face in your neck, basking in the scent of you.
“I know mon cœur (my heart), I miss you too, so much.” He was currently in Australia for the third race of the season. He wanted you to be there, but too many things were happening at your job for you to travel this weekend.
“It’s so quiet, I miss hearing you just yap and play piano.” You pouted, eyes beginning to feel heavy.
“I don’t yap.” Charles’s disagreed, his nose wrinkling.
You huffed out a laugh, “Yes, you do! Sometimes you’re just as bad a Max!”
Charles gasped at you, “That is a strong accusation, bébé. I am not as bad as Max, he never stops.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cha.”
Charles went quiet for a bit, causing you to look at him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked him through the phone. You see him shrug, “Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry.”
“So what is it?”
“What if we got a dog?” He suddenly suggested. The thought of a dog made your sleepiness go away. You weren’t against getting a dog, but with how busy you and Charles got, you weren’t really sure if now was the right time.
“A dog?” Your eyes squinted at your boyfriend. Charles hummed and nodded at you, “Yeah. I think it would be nice, no? You could have company whenever I’m away and we’ll be our own little family.”
Your heart swelled at Charles, the thought of having a family together one day was definitely something you both saw in your futures. But again, you were both too busy to start one, so maybe a dog would suffice.
“You’re right.” You began, “But having a dog is a big responsibility, Cha. Who’s going to watch them if we’re both away?”
“We can always take them. If we can’t, I’m sure maman wouldn’t mind.” Charles suggested, running a hand through his hair. He began to go through the other logistics, but sleep was beginning to take over you.
“I guess, baby. Let me sleep on it and I’ll let you know tomorrow, okay Cha?” You tell him, rubbing your eye. Charles smiled at you and blew you a kiss through the phone, “Don’t worry too much, mon chéri (my darling). I love you, sleep well.”
You mirrored his smile, “I love you too, Cha.”
After having a conversation about the responsibilities of having a dog, you and Charles decided that you were ready. So he reached out to a couple of breeders and some pet shops in Monaco until you guys found the right pup fit for you and Charles.
Leo was like the missing piece of you and Charles. You didn’t feel it before, but after seeing the small pup nuzzling between you and Charles you felt complete.
The English cream miniature dachshund was a bundle of joy and full of energy despite his small size. Leo’s daily schedule consisted of him eating, sleeping, playing, cuddles, eating, and more sleeping. He demanded both yours and Charles’s attention, though he demanded yours more. It was like he was in his own little world and the two of you were living in it.
Charles and Leo were like two peas in a pod. While one was a dog and the other was human, the similarities in their personalities were uncanny. They were the biggest sweethearts around you, constantly cuddling into your side and pressing kisses (or in Leo’s case—licks) onto your face—the two adored you and always wanted to be in your space. Wherever you went, they followed. But whenever you were gone, they were miserable.
Which brings you to today.
Leo whined as he sat beside the front door of Charles’s apartment. He pawed at the door, the sound of his tiny nails filling the room. You had gone out to have a girls day, visiting your favorite cafe with a couple of your friends and getting your nails done. Which left Leo to his own devices at his dad’s (Charles’s) apartment.
Charles was in the living room, going through a couple of emails from the team and his engineers about data from recent races and about the car. Though, he wasn’t able to focus since the six pound dog you both shared was constantly whining at the door waiting for you to come home.
Getting up from the couch, Charles made his way to the entrance of his apartment. Leo jumped up at the sight of Charles, immediately approaching his giant feet.
“Mon cœur, maman will be home soon.” He crouched to pick up Leo, who climbed up his chest and began licking his face. Charles let out a chuckle, “You’ve been acting like I was chopped liver for the past two hours, Leo. Don’t act so surprised to see me.”
As if Leo understood him, the dog nipped at his nose, making Charles yelp, “Ah! Leo!”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Holding the dog against his chest, Charles made his way back to the couch. He moved his laptop aside, already knowing he wouldn’t be getting any work done anytime soon. He laid horizontally on the couch with Leo sat on his chest, the dog still nipping and licking at him excitedly.
“Do you miss maman too, Leo?” He softly asked the dog, petting Leo’s head and smoothing the soft fur of his ears. The dog let out a small sound, as if he agreed with his dad.
Still stroking Leo’s head, Charles continued to talk to the dog, “I always miss your maman, Leo. Whether she’s gone for a couple of hours or when I’m away overseas, she’s always on my mind. Just like you mon cœur.”
Leo had settled on nuzzling himself into the crook of Charles’s neck, similar to how you would, and laid down against his chest. Charles soothingly rubbed Leo’s back as his eyes began to feel heavier.
“We’re very lucky to have maman, right Leo? She’s perfect for us and she takes care of us all the time. I know you like to cuddle with her more, that’s okay though, she gives very nice cuddles.” Charles could feel himself doze off. The afternoon sun was shining against the windows of his living room and the couch was incredibly comfy—it was perfect for an afternoon nap.
Before he can completely fall asleep, Leo suddenly whipped his head away from Charles, making the man groan at the dog. Leo’s tail began to wag excitedly, his paws tapping on Charles’s chest, begging to be let go.
Leo barked at the sound of your keys turning in the lock. Instead of placing Leo back on the floor, Charles picked him up and walked towards the entrance to greet you once you’ve come in.
Leo’s tiny body shook even more as he watched you walk through the door. You beamed at the sight before you, your boyfriend dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, cradling your extremely hyper dog.
“Aww, hi babies!” You cooed, dropping your bag to the side and gently taking Leo from Charles. You giggled as Leo covered your face in kisses, sniffing at your hair, and nudging your face with his cold wet nose.
Charles softly smiled at you and Leo, “Hey, I missed you too, bébé.”
“I know you did, Cha.” You hummed, walking into his waiting arms and pressing a kiss onto his cheek. Charles made a sound of disapproval, “You missed, mon chéri.”
You chucked at your boyfriend, “Oh, I’m sorry.” You pressed a tender kiss onto his awaiting lips, a hum of satisfaction coming from Charles. His arms tightened around you as he led you to the couch, only letting you go so you can settle onto the cushions.
Picking up your hand, Charles inspected your nails, “I like them, they look good on you.”
“Thank you, Cha. How was your day with Leo?” You sat back into the couch with Leo still cuddled into your chest. Charles sat beside you, wrapping his arms around you and placing his chin on your shoulder.
“I tried to get work done but Leo kept crying, so we decided to cuddle and talk about how much we missed you.” Charles answered, feeling the sleepiness come over him again.
“Oh, really?”
Charles nodded, “Yeah, our child’s a boy of many words, mon chéri.” You looked down at the pup to see him dozing off like Charles.
“Can we take a nap?” Charles asked, moving the both of you so you were laying down on the couch. You laid beneath Charles and Leo, your two boys nuzzled into your sides.
“Of course we can, Cha.” You hummed, pressing a kiss to his forehead and another onto Leo’s.
“I love you.” You whispered to Charles, you felt him smile against you, “I love you always, Mon cœur (my heart).”
You watched the two of them as they fell fast asleep on you. Your boys were clingy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Like father, like son, I guess.” You whispered before falling asleep yourself.
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gor3sigil · 4 months ago
Text
I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.
[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]
“Are you sure ?” she asked.
I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.
“Why do you ask ?” I say.
“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”
That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.
I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:
There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.
I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.
And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.
Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.
Or did it ?
Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?
But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?
“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”
Neither do I, RIGHT ?
Oh
Or do I ?
Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?
How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?
And what do we say to that ?
Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.
Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?
All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.
No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.
No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.
And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.
If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.
To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.
And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.
So I’ll explain very carefully.
See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.
And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.
I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.
Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.
Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.
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the-original-skipps · 10 days ago
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|| Yandere Hacker!Scaramouche x Reader ||Headcanons || Genshin Impact ||
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so I was watching hoyofair and this came up so I thought I’d do a quick something mehehe I mean I did spy scara before so might as well continue the tradition
cw: mentions of cyber stalking. privacy breach. slight mention of violence involving firearms.
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Hacker!Scaramouche has your phone and laptop/computer bugged with his own personally made virus, which basically acts as a listening device. He can also remotely access both devices without you even knowing.
Hacker!Scaramouche who basically knows everything about you. He can hack into the government database to find out any personal information you have. Any records, all the names of your family members; he can just find out with a tap of his finger.
Hacker!Scaramouche knows your whereabouts at all times, a tracking software installed into your phone which you’ll never find. You can be in any part of the world and he’d still be able to find you. You don’t have your phone with you? Not a problem, he’ll just assess the satellite and look for you.
Hacker!Scaramouche who because of the virus on your phone, he pretty much listens to you go about your day. In this day and age, a person’s smartphone is an essential tool after all and he knows you’d always have it with you. He can be going about his day and your voice would be heard from this headphones. What you’re saying as you browse the internet, your personal mumblings - he hears them all. Especially the phone calls you have with other people.
Hacker!Scaramouche knows your current interests and wants. He knows you have that item in your basket on your shopping app that you’re putting off buying. So, he makes things easier for you and buys it for you. He’ll have it delivered straight to your house. A little gift from him.
Hacker!Scaramouche who has access to your phone’s photo gallery. He saves all the pictures you’ve taken into his own personal computer and phone. The pictures of the food you’re about to eat, the pretty scenery of the sky - they’re all backed up and saved. Though, he has a special folder for pictures with you in it.
Hacker!Scaramouche can hack into any security camera in any part of the world. He has a live stream of the security camera feed running in front of your house/apartment so he’d know when you’re home. He also keeps watch in case you bring any visitors home. If you do, a simple facial recognition program is all he needs to know who they are and if they’re a threat to him.
Hacker!Scaramouche who spends majority of his time behind a screen but isn’t afraid to come in person when needed. This new person you’re seeing? He already knows who they are and where they live. He’ll ruin them - drain them of their assets, enter false criminal records; anything to get them away from you. If they don’t get the message, a gun to the face will be sure to change their mind. 
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quarterlifekitty · 1 month ago
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cooking was mentioned but I kind of wonder how the cod men would react to reader bringing them cookies/some sort of pastry they know they like. Ive also had the idea of price getting turned on watching reader knead bread dough stuck in my head for some reason.. or ghost coming home to the smell of freshly baked pie (or something similarly wholesome) with blood still caked under his nails.... wrapping those large hands around my waist while i'm making the crust.. ughhh..sorry just- housewife reader who bakes treats and takes care of and dotes on a big military man and gets fucked senseless in return is so stuck in my head.
So I’m going to use this opportunity to speak gratuitously about Ghost’s relationship to food. Others have spoken of it at length before, but hopefully I will be able to add something new!
So we all know that Ghost did not have a happy childhood. He did not grow up in a secure home. He did not grow up with means. He was not nurtured, nor was he nourished. He enlisted at the first opportunity, and I think he nearly cried from being able to eat three, full meals a day that weren’t even that bad.
The next section of his life is a bit better in regards to eating, but not great. He knows where his next meal is coming from, and he doesn’t have to worry about there being enough to eat. He’s a grown man with a paycheck, he can buy food if he likes. But we all know the cafeteria food and MREs are demoralizing. They’re edible, but nothing more than that.
The first time he has leave, has to stare at the walls of his own empty studio and live for himself with the means to go grocery shopping as much as he likes— he’s at a total loss. No one ever taught him what he should be eating. No one ever showed him how to wash mushrooms. How to cut against the grain of a cut of beef. How to separate an egg yolk from the white. How to reduce a sauce. How to make sure scrambled eggs don’t overcook by taking the pan off of the heat.
So he starts very small. Eats like a college student. Lots of microwave shit. Works up to cooking himself some eggs. Almost moans at how good they are when it’s freshly cooked, on toast, and there’s no eggshell in it, and no one is yelling at him while he eats, he doesn’t have to hurry and get moving— it’s a really beautiful feeling he’s never gotten.
And maybe he had a neighbor at this time. Some older woman who noticed that the apartment that sat dormant most of the year had an occupant. One that still looked like a kid. Wore fatigues. Clearly didn’t have a family to go home to, if he was hanging around here on his shore time.
So she starts feeding him. Giving him a portion of what she makes for her own family. Casserole, cakes, stroganoff— anything. And Ghost will never forget that. The unparalleled joy of being given food from someone’s own home. Something they made. Something good. The food always tastes better when it isn’t mass produced. It always tastes better fresh. And it always tastes better when it was made by someone who cares.
The trajectory of his life and career don’t afford him much time. He spends most of his leave time cooking. Experimenting with recipes and learning. But that’s still such a small minority of his life.
When you, the fresh face in the 141 start bringing in food regularly, Gaz jokes that you’re buttering them up— trying to get in their good graces. You’re warned that Ghost is a hard won man. The truth is that no one has really tried home made lemon bars on him before. And they work like a charm.
Maybe a year or two later, you’ve gone on leave for maternity. You’re moved in together. It’s his first deployment without you working at his side. His first time coming home, and actually having someone to come home to.
And the house is alive. He can smell the currant and blueberry pie in the oven. You’re playing music in the kitchen. The house is so warm. There’s an unfolded blanket on the couch. The couch has a spaghetti stain on one of the arm rests.
And you. In loose pants and an even looser shirt with your bump visible. There’s blood under his nails. He smells like sweat and hot old dirt. But here you are, making the perfect nest for him. Not minding when he lays his head on your shoulder, embracing you from behind while you idly check the sauce simmering on the stove.
So are you getting fucked tonight? Baby, you’re getting fucked while that pie is on the cooling rack. You are getting railed after dinner and then you’re getting railed after dessert. And then you’re getting pounded in the shower and then he’s taking you in your fucking bed. And if you weren’t pregnant before, you definitely would be now.
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babydollmarauders · 9 months ago
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PHASES — LUKE HUGHES
luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with
notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.
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Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.
he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.
but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.
her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.
“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.
“what do you need, doll?”
“you.”
and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.
her.
surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.
and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.
hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.
and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.
waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.
***
the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.
her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.
“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?
“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”
maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”
‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.
“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”
“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.
his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.
“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”
that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.
and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?
after all, it was Luke’s fault.
it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.
or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.
because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.
*
Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.
“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”
“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.
“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”
“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.
“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.
“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.
“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.
“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.
“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”
“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”
Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.
it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.
“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.
“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”
“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.
“i can’t say anyone has, no.”
“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”
“just keep talking, Lukey.”
“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.
“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.
“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.
“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”
“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”
“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.
“well you’re not much help.”
“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”
“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.
“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.
as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.
he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”
“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”
“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”
“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.
“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.
“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.
“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”
“yeah.” no.
“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”
“any time. goodnight.”
as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.
“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”
the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.
“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”
***
the game was an absolute shit show.
Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.
it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.
and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.
her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.
it was always someone else.
never him. never Luke.
he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.
and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.
is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.
“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.
turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”
“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.
and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.
“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”
his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.
“yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.
“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”
her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.
with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.
and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
*
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.
Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.
“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.
“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”
“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”
Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”
“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”
“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”
Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.
well, without the ‘something something’s.
“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”
with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.
reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.
the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.
truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.
she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.
the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.
“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.
“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”
“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”
“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.
“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”
“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”
“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”
y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.
“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.
“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.
“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”
Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.
“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.
“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.
that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.
hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.
“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.
his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.
“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.
that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.
her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.
“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.
“i love you, sweet girl.”
“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.
a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.
“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.
it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.
and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?
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help-itrappedmyself · 11 months ago
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Danny Punches a Clown Pt. 4
Previously in Part 3:
“I’m Red Robin, how long have you been in Gotham?”
“That really depends, Red Robin.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“On what?”
“What time it is.” Danny states. Red Robin lets out a concerned sounding chuckle.
“Probably not long then, I take it? It’s almost 3:00 am.” 
Danny nods, but on second thought this does little to help him. He doesn’t know what time it was when he got here and considering the new dimension bit he doesn’t know the time difference from his home dimension in the first place.
“Are you hurt?” 
Taking stock, Danny knows he isn’t fully recovered from his last fight in his dimension. He got hit with a few blasts that he knows are currently burns and he whacked his head either during the fight, after, or both but the headache is negligible at this point and he is not letting anyone take him to a doctor.
“I’m fine.” Danny hefts the backpack onto his shoulders and looks around. The alley is a dead end, so he’s going to have to get past Red Robin if he wants to leave. Despite all his questions he doesn’t seem to want to hurt him yet, so hopefully they can do this nicely. 
“What’s your name?” Red Robin has opened what seems to be a computer on his wrist.
“Danny.”
They look at each other for a moment before Red Robin nods.
“Okay, Danny. Why are you in Gotham?”
Danny shrugs. He is not particularly aware of Gotham and he didn’t have a destination in mind when he was running anyway. 
“Is your family here?”
Danny flinches and backs up a step at the mention of family, but Red Robin just puts up his hands again.
“Whoa, it’s okay. I’m sorry. No family, that’s fine.”
Then there are two more figures in the alley, someone in blue and someone in a leather jacket with a red mask covering their whole head jumped from the roofs behind Danny, and he doesn’t want to put his back to Red Robin, but he has seemed pretty nice and these guys are bigger and more of an unknown so he turns quickly to keep his eye on them.
“It’s okay,” Danny can hear from beside him. “This is Nightwing and Red Hood. They’re friends, I work with them.” 
Danny backs up to the wall of the alley near Red Robin, able to see everyone, but as he presses back against the wall his backpack presses up against one of the burns and he hisses involuntarily, flinching back forward a little. This is not a good situation to be in, Danny thinks as he looks around. He makes sure his backpack is securely on his shoulders before turning towards Red Robin.
“Sorry.” He mutters before quickly reaching out and grabbing him. He uses the momentum, and a little ghost strength, to toss Red Robin right into the other two and he doesn’t stick around to see what happens. He is running and he can hear footsteps behind him, and he doesn’t know where he is so he does the only thing he can think of.
He turns a corner, and then quickly, before any of them can catch up, walks himself right through the wall of the building to his left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag List: @that-random-fangirl, @sebas-nights, @whataspectaclebear, @wolf-iz-2000, @bl-webtoonweeb @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @molasses-being-slow @kiana996
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adrixivy · 2 months ago
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People think that turning off super strength is easy or that it can even be turned off. Peter is the physical evidence and spokeperson that it is NOT easy to do so.
He wakes up, grumbling about school one day since it was the day of his Spanish quiz and accidentally breaks the doorknob off the door as he dreaded the day. He panics about it and hesitantly told Tony about it and was on the verge of tears, scared Tony is going to shout at him. (Tony hugs him and coos “It’s fine, Bambino. It’s okay, it’s just a doorknob”)
Another example, he’s in PE class. The whole class has to do 50 pushups since the class was abnormally louder than usual. Everyone is grumbling or falling over, finding it impossible to complete.
“Good job there Peter. Everyone better hurry up or I’ll dismiss Peter only for lunch!” His PE teacher announces. His whole class is staring at him wide eyed. Flash is screaming he cheated and he winces and looks over to Ned for help, only to see him lying flat on the ground, knocked out. Damn it. His PE teacher expects more from him now and he internally groans. He’s definitely ranting this to his dad when he goes home.
Whenever he’s carrying something like helping his teacher with carrying stacks of assignments, he has to act like he’s struggling a little and it’s more exhausting than you think to act like you’re struggling to carry a tall stack of thick papers when you can easily carry the hulk. He probably could if he wanted but Tony’ll probably get a heart attack.
Even in patrol, he has to hold back his strength so that he doesn’t fatally injure criminals that their hospital bills are through the roof. He’s using around 20% of his strength when he punches. He’s always holding back his punches that it’s physically draining him. So imagine he faces a villain where he doesn’t have to hold back his punches. Like Juggernaut.
Instead of his usual favorite Russian Rhino appearing in Manhattan central, it’s his favorite American giant that rarely appears because he’s always under confinement. It’s unusual that he somehow broke out of his containment but Peter’ll gladly send him back to it. He lands a punch and it does basically nothing to the man. It became some sort of cat and dog fight in cartoons like Tom & Jerry with Peter landing hits on the giant that does basically nothing to him and the Juggernaut trying to grab him as he swings around and shoots his quips.
Peter, groaning and his frustration growing: God, why isn’t anything working on you!
Juggernaut, unamused: Your hits are weak. You are holding back your potential, Spider.
Peter pauses, realizing that Juggernaut is infact not like normal people. He doesn’t break under Peter’s punches. He’s not fragile. He drops down and punches Juggernaut with slightly more strength than usual which makes the giant stumble back a little and scoffs in disbelief and he looks at his hand then Juggernaut then his hand again and he squeals in excitement, jumping happily that he can for once punch with his full strength. Juggernaut nods, having a worthy opponent that can finally damage him.
Peter is incredibly excited as he lands hits on the giant that does actual damage to him, making him stumble back and actually groan from pain. He’s landing punches and kicks with laughs and tires Juggernaut out, where he finally webs the man up and wait for SHIELD to appear and take him back to where he came from with even more improved security
The Avengers are on the Quinjet, about to help Peter but they stayed in the Quinjet watching Peter punch the giant with a little too much glee that he almost seems like a maniac. Bruce didn’t have to jump in and be the green guy to help. The others did even need to restrain Juggernaut or anything. If anything, they should restrain Peter from going a little too overboard. They’re all suddenly very painfully aware that Peter can destroy the whole Avengers with his full strength if he wanted to.
Tony: We’re lucky he’s a kind-hearted and soft person or the entire world will be in chaos by now.
The Avengers nods along mindlessly as they close into the spider kid who is waving at them cheerfully with a big grin, who is obviously not aware of how dangerous he could possibly be.
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dekariosclan · 1 year ago
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Allow me to rave for just a minute about Gale’s kiss scene in the epilogue.
First, there’s Gale’s gentle teasing of Tav, which we can all universally agree is magnificent, outstanding, exceptional, top-notch.
Then there’s The Boop™️. Something so perfect you could show it to an alien life form with absolutely zero understanding of human emotions or love, and it would still say, '…that’s the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.’
But the part that I truly love the most (and that I don’t see mentioned often) is this right here:
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I love that after Gale’s tease, Tav leans in for what they think will be a quick little kiss, but the minute their lips touch Gale’s, he’s so completely love-drunk he’s pulling them in for a makeout session.
Words aren’t necessary. Gale doesn’t feel like he has to ask or flatter or charm Tav first; he knows he can just reach out and his love will be reciprocated.
This is the result of Gale finally having a partner that lets his needs and his wants and his desires be met. He’s confident and secure enough in Tav’s love to know that he can just kiss them with a defenseless, honest passion, and he’ll get the same in return, because they love him for him.
Plus, the little sway/dance he does while kissing Tav!? He’s bursting with so much happiness he can’t contain himself.
I just. Love it. SO much.
And I am 100% sure this happens ALL THE TIME.
Professor Dekarios is late for his morning class again? He hasn’t even left his home yet, he’s still kissing his spouse goodbye.
Gale’s spending an evening with his friends at the Yawning Portal and suddenly they’re wondering where he went? He spotted Tav doing some shopping nearby and left to give his love a “quick peck on the cheek.” It’s been 40 minutes.
Elminster himself stops by to meet Gale to go to lunch? He finds Tara waiting for him, tail swishing in annoyance as she says, “Please do sit down and get comfortable. Gale will be awhile.”
Elminster just laughs. Is Gale caught up working on a spell? Got his nose in a book? He’s used to waiting on the boy, he’ll probably just be a few minutes more.
Tara: “He’s saying goodbye to Tav.”
Elminster: Sighs, takes off his hat, sits down.
And one final observation that sets my heart ablaze: remember when Gale told Tav at the Netherbrain battle, “I hope that wasn’t our last kiss. I’d take a thousand more if I could.” Just look at Gale pulling Tav in for those extra kisses; he’s already started counting. ❤️
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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hey lovely! I was wondering if I could request a remus or poly! marauders where the boys (or just remus) are keeping his werewolf thing a secret from whimsical!reader bc remus is scared she’ll be scared of him, but she secretly already knows. I feel like she’d just KNOW(you know? lol) and one day hints that she does to Remus saying that it’s going to be a full moon soon as like a warning or something and he and the boys kinda look at her like….what does she mean by that? lol idk I hope that makes sense.
Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3
poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1k words
They’re all always on edge as the full moon grows closer, but James thinks Sirius might be faring the worst. Two days out, he won’t let Remus so much as make his own tea, and when you’re still not home a couple of hours after you’re supposed to be, James has to talk him down from calling the police. 
Now, Remus is comforting him, though neither of them will admit it, the ailing boy’s arms banded securely around Sirius’ midsection where they lie on the couch. Every now and again, Sirius turns his head to kiss Remus’ chin as if to make up for it. James watches them both from the kitchen, wondering if he could get away with slipping some of the anti-anxiety tea you got Remus into Sirius’ brew. 
When they hear your key in the front door, he thinks he hears a relieved sigh go up from the couch. 
“Hi, angel.” James arrests you at the door, beckoning you into the kitchen. “Been missing you.” 
“Hey Jamie.” You set a couple of bags on the counter, letting him pull you in by the waist for a kiss. “Whatcha making?” 
“Lentil soup,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close. “Be extra nice to Sirius,” he whispers near your ear. “He’s been worrying himself crazy about you.” 
You pull back to look at him, lips parting bemusedly, but James just pecks you on the side of your head. “Go,” he urges. 
You do as he says, padding over to the couch. “Hi, Siri,” you say, kneeling by the couch. “How’s your—day been?” Your words become muffled halfway through when Sirius wraps his arms around you, pressing your face to his shoulder despite the awkward angle. 
“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, worry inlaid with fondness. Remus’ hand migrates to the dip of his waist, pacifying. “You didn’t leave a note or anything.” 
“Sorry,” you say, slipping free of his grip so you can see him. Your fingers find a piece of his hair, running the satiny tress through your fingers distractedly. “I didn’t expect to be so long, but I couldn’t find Remus’ chocolate anywhere. I think it must be the holiday.” 
Sirius pauses. 
“You were gone all that time getting the chocolate Rem likes?” James asks. He peers inside the bag you’ve left on the counter, and sure enough—bags and bags of it, enough to last for months. 
“Mhm, I had to go to six stores. I saw you were getting low,” you say, now to Remus, “and I thought you might be wanting it.” 
James lowers the heat on his soup, setting a lid on the pot so he can join you all in the living room. Remus’ expression is wavering somewhere between guilty and lovestruck. Sirius looks plainly besotted.
“You didn’t have to do all that,” Remus says, reaching over Sirius to stroke at your cheek. “Thanks, dove.” 
You lean into his touch, cheeks dimpling. “It’s no problem,” you promise. Sirius has a look on his face like he wants to eat you. James feels similarly. “Oh,” you say abruptly, “I set up my diffuser in the bedroom earlier, but since it looks like you’re going to be out here for a while, would you mind if I brought it out?”
Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other. “Course not. But what did you have it in my room for?” 
“I put some rosemary oil in it.” You get up, aiming for the bedroom. “I thought it might be good for your headaches.” 
When you return, Sirius apparently decides he can’t contain himself any longer. He sits up on the couch, opening his arms for a proper hug. You set up the diffuser hastily and go to them, letting him squeeze the life out of you without complaint. Your eyes slip closed. 
“Sorry I scared you,” you say softly. 
“You’re forgiven.” Sirius stamps a kiss on the side of your head, rubbing your back roughly. “You’re pretty hard to stay mad at, you know that?”
“That’s the goal,” you reply breezily. James laughs. 
“How’d you know I had a headache today?” Remus asks, watching you and Sirius amusedly. 
You hum into Sirius’ shoulder, not opening your eyes. “Well, it’s only two days until the full moon.” 
Remus goes shock still. So does Sirius, cutting a look James’ way over your shoulder. What the hell is that supposed to mean? 
James shakes his head, shrugging. He hasn’t let anything slip, though he does think it’d be easier if you knew. He and Sirius have tried to coax Remus into telling you a few times now, but the other boy is obstinate. He’s been spurned too much in his life to willingly open himself up to the possibility of it, even if they all know you could never be afraid of him. He’s just not ready yet. 
Still, James thinks sitting here in petrified silence is as likely to give him away as anything else. 
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” James asks you. 
“Mm, nothing,” you hum blissfully, seemingly too content in Sirius’ hold to think about much else. He thinks he can hear Remus’ breath shake a bit on the way out. 
“Right,” James says. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen for a bit? I could use someone chopping while I stir, or the other way around.” 
“Sure.” You open your eyes, gently easing yourself from Sirius’ clutches. The raven-haired boy eyes you curiously as you go, quirking an eyebrow at James like What do you think she’s on about? James can only shrug again, putting a hand on the small of your back while he follows you into the kitchen. 
As he goes by, he looks again in the bags you’ve brought home. 
“Angel, why did you buy so many bandages?” 
You shrug, taking up a paring knife and beginning to chop celery with careful, even strokes. “We were running out of those, too. Usually you and Siri are more on top of this stuff, but I figured it’s time I started pitching in. I know it’s a difficult time of the month.” 
There’s a dull slapping sound from the couch, and James looks over to see Sirius with one hand covering his mouth, the other stroking soothingly at Remus’ hair. 
“Right.” James swallows. He glances back at you, but you’re just chopping celery, placid as can be. “Thanks for, uh, taking up the mantle.” 
You toss him an easy smile. “Anytime.”
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wosoamazing · 5 months ago
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More Than Football?
Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leòn x Teen!R
Warnings: Celiac Disease (if that counts)
Notes: Just an idea that popped into my head and I ran with it. I hope you all like it 1.5k words
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“What time is it?” Ingrid asked her girlfriend as they waited at the private arrivals gate, you hadn’t even met any of the team, yet here you were needing security to escort you through the airport and being picked up at the private arrivals gate. You were a powerhouse and your transfer was major news, something that meant you were no longer a low level footballer.
“She’ll be okay, they’re escorting her, it’s okay,”
“She is going to be so nervous, and the media and fans are just going to make it worse,” Ingrid rambled, she knew you from the National team, but also because your Dad’s were friends, having worked together for many years, you'd received many Jerseys from Ingrid over the years.
-
“Thank you for picking me up,” you mumbled slightly embarrassed by the amount of security you had with you.
“You’re living with us of course we’d pick you up,” Ingrid replied and you nodded. You tried to convince the club to let you have your own place, there was an apartment two floors above Mapi and Ingrid’s for sale, but they said no. It’s not that you didn’t want to live with someone or that you didn’t like Mapi and Ingrid, you just felt bad. Knowing they would have to buy a whole new set of cooking utensils, more pots and pans, and even new versions of every sauce and spread. They would have to have two of everything, to reduce the chances of you being exposed to gluten. You and your parents had offered to pay for the additional expenses but they refused, it was their choice for you to live with them so they would pay.
“Did you eat on the plane?” Ingrid asked, as Mapi took your bags from you. Ingrid was pretty sure that your answer would be no, you didn’t like flying and she knew you felt like you could never trust plane food to be gluten free, but she still wanted to ask.
“No, but I’m not hungry,” you replied, as you climbed into the back seat of the car.
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“Frido no, that one can’t be used,” Mapi exclaimed as she snatched the tub of butter out of the Swedes hands before it could be opened.
“It’s just butter?” Frido shrugged as Ingrid handed her the other tub, the swede had decided she was going to go to training with the three of you and seemingly she had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning.
“What Mapi means is that tub is Skatt’s, because it’s got pink tape on it. It’s gluten free,”
“Aren’t all butter’s gluten free?”
“Not, when you put the knife you’ve used on the bread back in the tub, isn’t it obvious,” you snarked back quietly, thinking no one heard you.
“Skatt, manners and go get your training bag,” Ingrid told you, before turning to apologise to Frido.
“Sorry,” you grumbled back, before going to get your bag.
-
Frido was taken aback by your extreme personality change from when you were at Ingrid and Mapi’s to now. You were standing outside the training centre, looking at the doors hesitantly, there was no sign of you from before, your entire personality and demeanour was overtaken by nerves.
“You’ve got this,” Ingrid said as she squeezed your hand slightly, sensing how nervous you were.
“You’ll stay with me?” you asked tentatively.
“Of course, our lockers are next to each other. Let’s just go in and see how we feel, we can go from there,” Ingrid reassured you and you gave her a small nod, before you began to walk in.
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You were sitting on Alexia’s couch when you started to feel off, your head started to ache slightly and your abdomen cramped ever so slightly, the tale-tale signs you’d been exposed to gluten. It was team bonding and they ordered in, you said you were fine bringing something from home but they insisted they had scouted the restaurant and that if was safe, however you could never really trust someone.
“Ing, I don’t feel good, can we go home? I think I accidentally had some gluten” you asked, thankful you were sitting next to her, meaning you didn’t have to make too much of a scene, she nodded before she said something to Mapi. Ingrid knew how quickly your symptoms could progress and she wanted to get you home as soon as possible.
“Let’s go to the car,” Ingrid said standing up, helping you to your feet, before guiding you out the door, ignoring everyone’s eyes on you both, “Mapi is just seeing if Ale has a sick bag or something,”
“We’re going to go to sleep now. If you need anything just call out for us or message us, I’ll leave my phone on for tonight,” Ingrid told you, and you nodded in reply, she placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You’d changed into an old pair of training shorts and a singlet when you arrived home, before taking your tablets, having spent the rest of the afternoon in your bed, curled up with a heat pack.
Ingrid woke up later that night to the sound of sobbing, she sat up and checked her phone, she had several messages from you, the first having been sent 45 minutes ago. The last message caused her to feel physically sick.
It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just a teammate I understand, you don’t have to look after me, sorry if I woke you. 
-
Ingrid rushed around the apartment Ingrid wordlessly walked into your room and handed you two tablets along with some water, which you took before she handed you a new heat pack to replace the now cold one. She laid down next to you and you instinctively curled into her side, her arms wrapping around you.
“Ing, it hurts,” you whimpered out as you tried to find a comfortable position, your insides were cramping like there was no tomorrow, whilst also feeling like they were on fire.
“I know Skatt, I’m so sorry,” Ingrid said as a tear rolled down her cheek, “my phone must’ve turned itself off, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you and I would never ignore you, you’re like a little sister to me, and I care about you, so does Mapi and the team, we would never not help you, I promise,” she paused before continuing “Do you need anything else?”
“Stay?” you quietly asked, scared she would get mad.
“Of course, I’m not leaving again,” she said as she started to run her fingers up and down your back, helping you relax.
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“Princesa,” Mapi said softly as she pushed some of Ingrid’s hair out of her face.
“Mapi?” Ingrid mumbled, before rubbing her eyes, and sitting up, willing herself to wake up completely.
“I’m just about to leave for training, I’ve already called Pere and told him you both aren't coming in today. She is doing okay, she is out on the couch, we’ve had breakfast and there is some there for you, she isn’t mad at you, I promise, she feels bad for making you upset, we’ve talked about it. Just take it slow today, promesa,”
“She’s had breakfast?” Ingrid asked checking she heard right, knowing you must be feeling at least slightly better if you’ve eaten.
“Sí, call me if you need anything, I need to go, te amo,”
“Jeg elsker deg,” Ingrid replied, before getting up out of your bed, going to get her phone before walking into the living room.
-
“God morgen,” you said as you saw Ingrid walk into the living area.
“God morgen,” she replied as she sat down on the couch, “your bed makes it so hard to wake up,” she groaned as she rubbed her eyes, and blinked harshly, trying to wake up more.
“See, it’s not me, I think it’s problem is that it’s too comfortable,” you quipped, as you laughed at her slightly.
“Do you want anything? Need anything?” she asked, getting up to fetch her breakfast.
“No thank you,”
“You sure? You don’t need more meds?”
“Mapi gave me some, it doesn’t really hurt anymore anyway,” you said as she spooned some of her breakfast into her mouth, meaning she could only raise an eyebrow towards you. “It doesn’t hurt as much as last night,” you replied and Ingrid nodded, having gotten the reply she wanted out of you. You hated the concept of pain, you’d always struggled with accepting you were still in large amounts of pain. In your brian the pain you were experiencing now was nothing compared to last night, meaning you weren’t really in pain, however your parents, and now even Ingrid and national team coaches (and most likely soon the Barça coaches) were trying to challenge that idea, you were in pain, it was pain, no matter whether it was less than before.
“About last night-” Ingrid started, however you cut her off, “I’m sorry for upsetting you, it’s not your fault, and I do know you care about me, and sorry for making you feel guilty for your phone not going off,” you blurted out.
“Skatt, it’s not your fault either, I need you to know that. They only wanted you for football and that’s how they treated you, it’s going to take time for you to let go of that. But I want you to know, you are so much more than football to us. You come first, not football. I promise,”
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crowdedimagines · 21 days ago
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Last Christmas - Bradley Bradshaw
4k of fluff and a little horniness ❤️‍🔥 masterlist
summary: Bradley gets a 12-month assignment before he can secure a title with the hot bartender he’s been spending the past few weeks going home with… will she still be there waiting next Christmas?
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Last year.
“I don’t know you guys, it’s just too early to expect anything of her.” Rooster shakes his head with a sigh. It’s heavy on his mind how soon the holidays are and how few days he actually has left here in San Diego.
Phoenix nods her head sympathetically, while Hangman is more focused rolling his eyes and his aim towards the dart board.
“It is early, but also in all the years I’ve known you I’ve never seen you obsess over a girl this much.” Phoenix admits.
“Just say he’s whipped, Nix.” Hangman interjects while launching another dart at the board.
“It’s a twelve-month deployment. I’ll be gone for a year.” Rooster has to fight the urge to put his head down on the table to show how utterly defeated he feels, “That’s a lot for any relationship let alone one that’s less than two months old and technically doesn’t even have a title.”
“Yeah, whose fault is that on the title.” Phoenix kicks his shin.
“I could get a girl to wait a year for me.” Hangman smirks, his eyes still never leaving the dart board.
“Hangman, you couldn’t get a girl to wait a week for you.” Rooster jabs.
“No, don’t get it twisted.” He smirks while tucking the toothpick back between his lips, “I won’t wait a week for anyone, but I could get a girl to wait for me.”
On that disgusting note, Hangman leaves the two of them at the hightop close to the darts in favor of the pool table that has the rest of their group surrounding it.
“Speak of the devil.” Phoenix teases catching sight of Y/n as she finally leaves the bar with a tray in hand. She stops briefly when a guy asks for a refill and she nods before continuing over to their table.
“Why do you look like someone kicked a puppy?” She asks with a pout in her lips, she sets down a new beer for each of them and takes their old bottles.
“Hangman is an ass.” Rooster defends, glancing to Phoenix for a brief second to remind her to go along with it.
“Awe, do you need me to take away his toys?” She says with a smirk and a squeeze of his bicep before she makes her way back behind the bar still wearing a grin. It’s a Friday so the bar is busy and they’re doing their normal routine.
Y/n has been bartending at the hard deck for two months and she's been hooking up with Rooster for nearly two months. Bradley had to chase her for a few weeks before she finally let him take her home and they’ve kept it up ever since.
She’s quick witted and isn’t afraid to tell anyone off which he likes a lot. He’s witnessed her ring the bell more times than he can count, but he always notes how smug she is to put a man in his place. Hangman has been on the receiving end of the verbal lashings a couple of times, which had Rooster dragging her home early with a proud grin.
“Let me just say this, the longer you wait to tell her the harder it’ll be. Get it over with so you can enjoy the next few days.” Phoenix advises.
“What if once I tell her and then it’s done right then and there?”
He panics thinking about the possibility. It’s why he’s procrastinated telling her since he found out. He knows it’s more than just sex when they hang out, but there haven't been any real serious dates. He knows how she likes her coffee in the morning, and which movies she’s never seen that he tries to push that night. His weekends off they’ll spend the whole day leading up to her shift together, mostly in bed. Then he takes her to work and the whole group comes out to drink, and he spends the night pretending not to count down the minutes until she’s off again.
She’s very quickly become the entire center of his focus.
“Y/n is not like that.” She shakes her head, “You two are feral for each other, and as much as she loves to tease you, it’s obvious she likes you too.”
Rooster nods, drinking down a few more big gulps of his beer. He catches Y/n’s eyes from behind the bar and she throws him a wink not even faltering while pouring a mixed drink. Eventually he pulls himself out of his mopey mood when they join the rest of the group. It’s a good distraction from the upcoming deployment. Some of the group will be going with him too, so they’re trying to enjoy their night too. Last Friday of freedom. He joins for a couple rounds of pool, still nursing the same beer so he can drive later.
“Your girl is making googly eyes at you.” Javy nods his head in the direction of the bar behind him.
Rooster turns to look and catches her eyes and this time it’s his turn to smirk, but Y/n doesn’t look away. Her stare calling him over to the vacant stool in front of where she pours.
“Hey Sailor.” She greets with a name she calls him frequently, “Long time no see.”
“I saw you half an hour ago.” He smiles, “You getting lonely over here?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say lonely.” Her cheeks dust pink as she drags out the last word. She walks around to the other side of the bar to bring the drink she had just made.
“Do you have to close tonight?”
“Bradley, are you trying to take me home?” She whips around with a grin. She’s bantering with him per usual, as if they don’t always go home together at this point. And by home, they mean her tiny apartment. Rooster is living on base in the barracks for the time being as it wasn’t known how long he would be stationed at Top Gun. Ironically Bradley had been looking at apartments on his phone the last few weeks before he found out about the long-term deployment he would be stuck on.
“I’m always trying to take you home.” He admits.
“Well it must be your lucky day, Sailor. I don’t close, I’m off at eleven.”
Rooster looks down at his watch to see it’s a quarter past ten. He was hoping you didn’t close since he knew you were here well before him and the rest of the squad.
“I’ll be waiting.”
He gives her a knowing smile, backing away from the bar and she gives him a rare soft look. He returns to the group, knowing that since he’s leaving shortly he needs to hangout with them until it’s actually time to go. He waits until she starts to untie her apron and talking with Penny before he stands and starts his goodbyes.
Y/n makes her way out the back door after bringing some more stock up just in case. Rooster is leaning in the same spot as always, insisting on walking her to her car. She reaches out a hand for him to take but she’s surprised when they go down the stairs and he tugs her harder in the direction of the bronco.
“We can get your car tomorrow.” Bradley insists.
“Oh, is that so?” She lets him lead her anyway.
“Yes ma’am. I’m requiring a car ride because I don’t think I can spend another twenty minutes apart.” He leads her right over to the passenger side of the Bronco, swinging the door open for her. Instead of getting in she turns around, trapping herself between him and the car.
“Well, when you put it like that.” She pulls down on the back of his neck so their lips would meet for the first time of the night. She hums in satisfaction and he lets out a groan as she pulls on the curls on the back of his head. They give it a few minutes to get more intense before Bradley is pulling back. He’s got her pushed against the side of the car, both of them out of breath.
“This is gonna be a long twenty minutes.”
“Drive fast.”
They both get in the car after that, his hand glued to the top of her bare thigh. Even with Christmas only being a few days away, the air is warm in the sixties. The windows are cracked bringing a welcomed breeze for the two that are too hot to handle in the moment. Rooster keeps glancing to see how swollen her lips are and Y/n can’t tear her eyes from his messed up curls.
The first parking spot in sight has Rooster throwing the car in park and they both quickly throw their doors open. He chases her up the stairs when she takes off with a laugh, it only takes a few strides for him to catch her and throw her over his shoulder.
“You’re telling me all of this muscle has a use, not just for looks?” She asks from behind him, his arm securing her on top of his shoulder. She traces the center line of his back, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“The Navy doesn’t do ‘just for looks’.” He reminds.
“That’s right, you are Navy property.” She reaches down to smack his ass, not noticing the pang Bradley felt at the reminder. He is Navy property and that’s why he has no say over leaving her for a year.
“Yeah, we actually need to talk about that.” He bends down to put her feet back on the ground. She didn’t even realize they were at her apartment door, but she just stands there with key in hand with her face pale at the serious tone of his voice.
“Bradley?”
“Let’s go in to talk about it.”
She doesn’t say anything in response, just unlocking her door and leaving it open for him to follow. She makes her way over to the couch and sets her keys and bag down on the coffee table. He sits down next to her, fully aware of the fact that he’s killed whatever high they were both on the whole way home.
“I got official orders for a new deployment.” He blurts.
“Oh, okay.” She sighs, “For how long?”
He gulps audibly which brings back her nerves. He turns fully to face her on the couch before answering her question and you could hear a pin drop with the silence that is met after.
“A year?” Her brows shoot to the top of her forehead in shock. The reality sinking in and he watches a dozen emotions cross her face before she looks up to him again.
“I don’t even know the details yet, but from what I know it’s far away and it’s pretty complex. Likely now that I’ve been training pilots at Top Gun, I’ll probably be involved with training too.”
“God, can you try sucking at your job so they don’t take you very long?” She jokes, trying to lighten the mood. She pulls her legs up on the couch to sit cross legged facing him, he reaches out a hand to her knee without a second thought.
“No, ma’am.” He sighs, pushing a strand that’s escaped her ponytail back behind her ear.
“How soon do you have to go?”
“Monday.”
“This Monday?” She shrieks, “That’s before Christmas!”
“I know.” He pushes his lips together in a straight line to show his own dissatisfaction with it. His fluffy mustache on prominent display.
“You’re gonna miss Christmas.” She says sadly.
“I’m gonna miss a lot more than that.”
He leans down to peck her lips, but it doesn’t wipe the slight pout from her face.
“I like where this was headed.” She interrupts him with a ‘me too’ that makes him grin, “But I can’t ask you to wait that long. I won’t be back until next December. I really like you, and I know I’m gonna spend all that time thinking about you, but-”
“But what?” She interrupts once again. She pushes the curls back off his forehead and lets her fingers weave through and Bradley has to fight the urge to close his eyes. “What if I want to wait?”
This has his eyes opening wider in shock of his own.
“What?”
She smirks at his reaction and climbs into his lap, no longer fighting the need to be close to him. Her fingers still running along the sides of his head mindlessly and his hands find her hips.
“What. If. I. Wait?” She presses a kiss along his jaw between each word, his fingers digging in a little harder.
“Are you serious?” He leans his head back to get a clear view of her face. She sits back a little so they both can actually focus on the topic at hand.
“Bradley, I like you and I guarantee in a year I still will. Does this mean you’re finally gonna make me a girlfriend?”
“God, please can I?” She nods excitedly and this time he leads the kiss, desperate to hold her as close as physically possible. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Yes.” She grins widely.
“Will you wait a year for me to come back?”
“Yes, baby.” He kisses her like his life depends on it. He likes the new nickname and she can feel just how much he likes it as he hardens under her. “Take me to bed, boyfriend.”
-
The two of them spend all day Saturday in Y/n’s apartment. Not even leaving for food, opting to order delivery and stay in the comfort of the warm bed. Penny gave her Saturday off when she found out about Bradley’s deployment and how soon it was. Sadly she had no one to cover her Sunday shift so their bubble had to come to an end when Bradley needed new clothes and she had to get ready for work.
They decide to meet at the Hard Deck a couple hours after her shift starts. The entire Dagger Squad makes a Sunday night appearance knowing it’s going to be a long time before they’re all back together again.
“God, I didn’t think you guys could get worse.” Hangman huffs rolling his eyes. Y/n pulls away from her boyfriend, who she had been leaning across the counter to kiss. There’s only one other group tucked away by the window otherwise the squad takes up all of the stools at the bar.
“Just wait and see how insufferable he’s gonna be without me.” Y/n teases, grabbing Jake’s glass to refill it.
“Yeah, leave me and my girlfriend alone.” Rooster joins in, putting an extra emphasis on girlfriend.
“That sounds so hot.” She grins wider.
“Okay, yeah now I’m with him.” Phoenix shakes her head agreeing with Hangman.
It’s safe to say the two of them have been soaking in every last second they can. The bar has been quiet enough with it being a Sunday that the whole group just stayed at the bar so Y/n could still be close by. They didn’t know however that it would mean witnessing kisses over the bar and a lot of googly eyes. Penny gave her the all clear to close early if it were slow, so she is all too happy to kick out the squad when they are the only ones left.
Bradley waits for her to finish cleaning up, leaving together hand in hand out the back door to the parking lot.
“Where’s the Bronco?” She asks, noting the empty parking lot aside from her car.
“I left it on base so we could ride together tomorrow morning.” He clears his throat, “Unless you don’t want to take me, I can get Phoenix to-”
“I’ll take every minute I can get.” She smiles, pulling him down for a quick kiss as they make their way over to her car. “As if I would pass up on dropping you off. I was just hoping I was finally gonna drive the Bronco.”
“Yeah, maybe next year.” He rolls his eyes, knowing that she knows he doesn’t pass off his keys too easily.
-
Knowing she had been working until close at the Hard Deck and he sure as hell didn’t let her sleep much, she looks surprisingly awake at 6:00 a.m. She looks more than awake, she looks perfect. Her hair is a mess that he knows a brush hasn’t met yet today, but it reminds him of himself pulling on it. The fact that they opted for one more round in bed rather than taking the time to actually get ready.
“What’re you looking at?” She teases, catching onto his stare while she looks ahead at the road. They are already on base, he gives her directions when needed for where to drop him off.
“You.” He admits, “Soaking up every last second I can.”
“You won’t have to rely too much on your memory, reach in the backseat.” Her all too familiar wicked grin makes an appearance.
He reaches in the back to find a Christmas bag with bright tissue paper sticking out. He cuts her a serious look, they hadn’t had time to do presents and figure that out before it was time for him to ship out. He tosses the tissue paper behind him and finds a small four by six tin and opens it to find a picture of Y/n, his dog tags on and nothing else.
“I didn’t have enough time to pose for a calendar, so these will have to do.” She laughs, struggling to picture him hanging one up where anyone can see. Y/n is pleased to see how pink his cheeks are turning.
“This is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.” He closes the tin without going through all of the pictures inside, opting to pull her in for a quick kiss now that they’re parked.
“Baby, I didn’t get you anything. I wasn’t sure what we-”
“Come back to me. In a year, I’ll be right here and you’ll be my gift.” She reaches out a hand just to hold his face. Her thumb brushes the edge of his mustache, he turns his head slightly to press a kiss to her thumb.
They get out of the car and Y/n sees a few other couples seemingly doing the same dance of dropping their partners off. Bradley sets down his overstuffed duffle on the ground and backs her into a hug against the car. He pulls her as tight as possible while she runs her nails back and forth on his back. He pulls back to look at her once everyone has gone inside and he knows he’ll be the last arrival.
“I’m gonna look so good for you when you get back.” She teases, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck while his hands grip her hips. She’s leaning against the hood of her car with him placed between her legs. It’s not the right height like the bronco, but it’s working plenty fine.
“Oh jesus.” Bradley sighs, already creating a picture in his head.
“You might wanna have the medical team close by, you might go into heart failure.” She presses a hand flat against his firm chest.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
One more kiss he tells himself, then he can go. Y/n opens her mouth wider to deepen the kiss and Bradley goes one step further by sliding his hands down from her hips to the back of her thighs and pulls her up into his arms. The kiss never breaks, the past few weeks have paid off as practice. She moans into the kiss more and he feels himself harden, he breaks off knowing they can’t go any farther if he’s supposed to walk onto a carrier in ten minutes.
“Bye, baby.” He plants her feet firmly on the ground again before letting go.
“See you in a year, Sailor.”
Hours later when he’s on the carrier and he’s already had three different briefings, he finally shuffles through the pictures back in the safety of his room. He’s still trying to wrap his mind around how she had the time to put this together in time for him to bring them, but damn is he glad.
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Next year. Xx
The second picture in the stack has her wrapped up in a stunning red set that he’s dying to unravel. If he had to guess that the real in person sight would’ve been his gift this year if he wasn’t deployed. Next year it is.
-
Waiting a year to see each other in person is easily the hardest thing either of them has had to face. Communication was sketchy at best for Bradley, but he called as often as they would let him. It’s hard for him to believe they’ve been apart longer than they’ve known each other.
His eyes scan all of the significant others waiting for everyone offloading from the ship. He takes a few steps closer, his duffle heavy in hand. The bright blue of the Bronco is familiar and like a beacon for him towards the back of the group of people, especially when he can see a familiar figure leaning against the front in a red floral dress. He fights the urge to sprint, but there’s an obvious pep in his quick steps.
“Hey, Sailor.” Y/n greets once he’s within earshot.
“Is that my girlfriend?” He asks with a bright grin. This is the first time he’s smiled that wide in nearly a year. He drops his bag at her feet and scoops her up, their lips meet and his hand is protective holding down the bottom of her dress while he spins. Finally, for the first time in nearly a year and it’s somehow better than all the build up that they had been waiting for. Worth the wait.
“That’s a hell of a welcome.” He huffs, slightly out of breath.
“I haven’t even started.” She smirks.
“Both my girls are here to pick me up?” He asks, looking behind her to the bronco he hasn’t seen in just as long. Last time he saw it, it was on base and he left Bob with the keys. He was the only one to be trusted.
“I pulled some strings.” She smiles wildly, “I did debate bringing a boombox to hold up over my head and play Last Christmas.”
He can’t help but throw his head back in a laugh.
“And why didn’t you?” He grins, taking another step closer to box her in against the hood. He needs to remember there are families around because the way she runs her hands up his chest has him ready to mount her then and there.
“They’re real heavy, baby.” She gives his arms a good squeeze for emphasis, “I’ll leave that for you and all those muscles for our next big gesture.”
“Noted.”
“You wanna open your gift early?” She asks, taking on her infamously wicked grin. He looks down her chest and can see a hint of red ribbon. It has to be the same set she took pictures in, pictures he became very familiar over the last twelve months. The pictures now well worn, but it doesn’t matter now that the real thing is back in his arms.
“God, I love you.” He sighs into her neck and she chuckles. It’s the first time she’s heard the words directly from his lips. Not in an email or the phone, directly from him.
“I love you, too.” She smiles, the soft look in her eyes that he only gets is fully on display, “Am I a bad girlfriend if I say I don’t want our first time back together to be special, and I’d rather you rail me in the car the second we’re out of view?”
“How fast can you get in the car?”
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