#this looks like a lot of books (and is actually a lot of books) BUT

[plutotheplum]

chapter one | the proposal

multi x fem!reader

chapter summary: the spring season seems to have brought on an unrelenting case of baby fever. being single is a problem though... so who better to ask than your five, handsome friends?

cw: modern au, fluff, kissing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex

wc: 1.7k

a/n: first chapter is here! something short and sweet before we get into the smut teehee ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

also on ao3!

series masterlist | next up: the magician

“I want a baby.”

Usually you’d be sitting across from your head-over-heels, doting, caring husband that would be willing to do anything for you whilst having this conversation. It’s an important decision after all, having a baby and taking care of it, having the finances to dote on your child. It’d be nice… except for the fact you don’t have a husband, or a boyfriend for that matter.

Instead, you’re sitting across from five men, currently lumped together uncomfortably on your couch, staring at you with slight bewilderment in their eyes. It was your best shot, inviting them over. 

Besides, you’d decided that it was the spring season that had caught you in its snare. Going out to a cafe, taking a stroll in the park, perusing a bookstore; babies were everywhere. It hadn’t bothered you so much until you’d set your eyes on one of the cutest, chubbiest babies you’d ever seen, its little hand curling around your finger when you’d been waiting in line to buy your book. 

Yeah… you’d gotten baby fever.

“A baby?” Rafayel asks, his brows raising, “are- are you even ready for a baby?”

“I’ve thought about it,” you reply, fingers fidgeting nervously in your lap, your eyes drifting across each of them, “a lot. I even made a short presentation if any of you would like to-”

Zayne shakes his head subtly and you sink back down into the chair, having gotten up half-way.

“I am ready,” you breathe out finally, “I’m not getting any younger and I just think it’d be nice, y’know? I wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore.”

“Why’d you invite all of us over at once?” Caleb asks, his hands folding behind his head, drawing a sound of annoyance from Xavier who he elbows in the process.

“I didn’t want to have the conversation five times,” you sigh, “besides, I figured none of you would actually agree to this. I mean, it’s sort of crazy. Do I sound crazy?”

“Maybe a little frantic,” Sylus muses, propping his elbow up on the armrest of your couch, his head tilting lazily to watch you.

“There are other options,” Zayne offers, “other than what you’re proposing. I could help you look, if you wanted. I know someone I went to medical school with, maybe they could help?”

You flush lightly, shaking your head. “I um- I want to do it naturally,” you squeak out, cheeks growing hotter when you spy the grin on Caleb’s face. “Less- less complications that way, which is why I decided to ask all of you.”

“Well,” Caleb yawns, stretching his arms above his head, managing to knock one against Xavier’s head again, “I’m in.”

“What?” you sputter, staring at him with wide eyes. “You- you can’t just agree! I had a whole thing planned and we still need to go over agreements about how this is going to work.”

“I’m not just going to disappear once you have the baby,” Caleb sighs, staring at you, his gaze never wavering. “If we do this, we’re doing it together.”

“Oh,” you say, sitting back in your chair, “well if that’s what you’d like, but I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything.”

“Obligated?” Sylus interrupts, raising his brows, “Sweetie, if you decide to have one of our kids, we aren’t going to abandon you to handle everything on your own. It’s as much of our decision as it is yours.” He pauses for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “With that being said, I also accept your proposal.”

“You do?” you ask, your head tilting. “Wouldn't the two of you be overkill? I really think one of you agreeing is enough-”

“It wouldn’t be fair,” Xavier pitches in finally, having had enough of being squished on the couch as he stands up, sending a brief glare towards Caleb. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he repeats, shifting on his feet, “if only the two of them got to have you. Besides, you said it was up to us to decide.”

Was he jealous? Maybe you’d dug yourself in a little too deep. You’d had fleeting moments with each of them, shared lazy kisses every now and then, had a few of their heads buried between your thighs on some nights, but nothing serious… especially not this serious.

“So all three of you,” you look pointedly at Caleb, Sylus and Xavier, “want to help?”

“Yes,” is the unanimous reply.

“I can’t have sex with all three of you!” you protest, looking at each of them, “I mean, I could but that’s besides the point!”

“You’ll have to alternate between us,” Zayne supplies, adjusting his glasses, his lithe fingers pushing them up to sit more securely on the bridge of his nose. The action distracts you for a moment, your mind conjuring up the memory of those very fingers sinking inside of your pussy only a few weeks ago when he’d been pent up and you’d been eager to help.

“Right,” you reply as though the situation made complete sense and nothing about this entire thing was crazy. “Alternate- wait,” you pause, your eyes flicking over to meet Zayne’s. “Us?” you echo, “what do you mean ‘us’?”

“Us,” Zayne says simply.

“Us- us as in you included?” you ask, voice pitching upwards with how incredulity takes hold of you, part of you hoping that your faith in the english language was now failing you.

“Yes,” he replies, his head tilting to take in your expression. “I am the most… qualified for this position.”

“This isn’t a job interview!” you snap, glaring at him, before pointing at the others accusingly, “and you are all way too eager to agree!”

“We’re helping you out,” Caleb counters, turning his attention to Zayne, “and what do you mean by qualified? You just have to cum inside of her.”

You wince at his crude words.

“I often see children during my rounds in the wards,” Zayne says coolly, “I don’t see you handling any children while you fly your plane around.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Caleb mutters, sending Zayne a glare.

“Okay,” you pitch in, hoping to ease some of the tension. “Rafayel?” you say, eyes focusing on the purple-haired man who’s been watching the situation unfold with amusement, “I’m glad you haven’t said anything, because four is more than eno-”

“Who said I didn’t agree?” he asks, raising his brows, “I’d be the odd one out, wouldn’t I? As Xavier said, that’d hardly be fair.”

“So what you’re all telling me, is that you’re all ready for a baby?” you ask bluntly, tilting your head skeptically. “Because I feel like none of you have thought this through.”

“We’re just giving you the best chance of having a baby,” Xavier says, meeting your skepticism with his own bluntness.

“Fine,” you breathe out, your eyes flitting across each of the handsome men. You’d be lying if you weren’t somewhat excited about the idea. “You’re all accepted.”

“Great,” Sylus says, standing up.

Your eyes widen when he approaches you, his arm tugging you to your feet, before wrapping around your waist.

“What are you-”

Your voice is muffled when he slots his lips over yours. You make a noise of protest until he presses closer, your eyes fluttering shut at the soothing stroke of his thumb against your cheek. A soft whine escapes you, arms sliding up to wrap around his neck, your lips working against his eagerly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Caleb snaps.

You squeak when you’re pulled away from Sylus, arms reaching out to grab for him, only for Caleb to swat your hands away, sending you an equally harsh glare.

“I thought we were getting started,” Sylus drawls, his eyes flashing with a hint of disdain. “I’m not one to sit around and watch.”

Caleb snaps out a retort and your shoulders sag as you watch the two men begin to argue.

“Are you sure you wanna have a baby with one of them?” Rafayel asks, his voice hushed as he sidles up to you. “They seem awfully… ill-tempered.”

You blink up at him, face falling. “Do you think that’ll affect the baby?”

Rafayel nods, putting on a grave disposition until you see Zayne roll his eyes.

“We’ll alternate,” Zayne says, rubbing his temples, “like I said. It’s the fairest way and none of your egos will get hurt in the process. We can draw numbers to figure out the order.”

You end up scrawling the numbers one to five on a piece of paper, ripping them up before scrunching them, so they can’t see what’s written on the paper.

“Take your pick,” you offer, opening your hands up for each one of them to choose a crumpled piece of paper.

You stare at each of them expectantly as they open up the pieces of paper, rocking up on your toes to peek over Xavier’s shoulder. 

Two.

Well, you could handle that. You smile up at him and he smiles back, dipping his head quickly to kiss your cheek.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Caleb groans staring down at his paper.

“Did you place last?” Rafayel asks smugly, waving his paper around as though he had won the lottery. “I’m first!”

“Asshole,” Caleb grouses, ripping up his paper agitatedly, “third.”

You turn your attention to Zayne and Sylus, raising your brows.

“Fourth,” Zayne says, tucking his paper away neatly into the pocket of his trousers.

You swallow nervously, glancing towards Sylus. He gives you a devilish grin in return, flipping his paper to show you the messily scribbled five. 

“You’re not… mad about it?” you ask tentatively.

“Why should I be?” Sylus asks, running a hand through his snowy hair, the strands falling across his forehead prettily, “It just means that I get to spend the longest with you.”

Well, that sounds more like a threat than anything. You weren’t a stranger to Sylus’ ways, you’d spent a few nights in his bed, face shoved into the pillows while you’d sobbed and cried pathetically with every snap of his hips against your ass. 

“Right,” you clear your throat, hoping your voice doesn’t betray your nervousness.

Your gaze drifts over each man. Smug Rafayel, mellow Xavier, disgruntled Caleb, stoic Zayne and devilish Sylus.

Yeah, you think, you were definitely in for it.

taglist >///<

@serenitymaria @kreishin @qyuin @wegottastayfocus @novthirty @syluslittlecrows @blorbohunter @luvleixo @crimsonmarabou @skylaryoung2002 @multisstuff @chirikoheina @supermissnkta @serenity-loves-red @shi-thats-kiera @froleineeeee @jaynawayna @schooki @minyoongi-pouts @mizienjoyer @isagistar @zaynesnowflake @athena-portgas @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @cutelittlesugarfairy @pookiei-bookie @dooopiee @rafshottestgf @thetimetravelernightmare @slytherin-min99 @envy-of-greed @paninisstuff @h0ngh0ngh0ng @nezuswritingdesk @teeheeheartless

[seumyo]

Kuroo had imagined that if he ever had a meet-cute with his future girlfriend, it would be something out of a rom-com.

Maybe she’d bump into him in the hallway and drop her books, and their hands would brush as they both reached down. Maybe they’d get locked in the school’s storage closet and have no choice but to talk, discovering they had an undeniable connection. Maybe he’d do something particularly cool in front of her—like nail an impossible volleyball save—and she’d be so impressed that she’d fall for him on the spot.

You know, a great story to tell his future kids later on.

What he did not imagine was this.

He had barely settled into his seat in chemistry lab class when the teacher rattled off instructions about the elements they’d be working with today. Kuroo, who had only half-listened, glanced at the laminated periodic table on their lab station. There were a lot of elements, and he was already regretting not paying closer attention. With a sigh, he turned to the girl beside him.

“Hey, can you check which elements we’re supposed to—”

He paused.

For one, you looked a little startled, like you hadn’t expected him to speak to you so soon. Your lips parted slightly, and your fingers thrummed against the edge of the table, but you didn’t immediately respond. Kuroo furrowed his brows.

Maybe you didn’t hear him?

Before he could repeat himself, you blinked a few times and slowly turned to the periodic table. Your expression shifted into something that could only be described as deep concentration, like you were trying to decipher some ancient text rather than a chart of chemical elements.

Seconds passed.

Then a full minute.

Kuroo’s eyebrows inched up.

Still, no answer.

“Give me a second.”

Ah, there it was.

He could see your eyes darting over the periodic table, and every few moments, you squinted slightly, as if you were trying to bring the tiny printed words into focus. Another thirty seconds passed. He tilted his head, watching as you leaned forward a little, your eyes locked on the chart like your life depended on it.

You would probably set it on fire at this point from how intense you were looking.

“…You good?” he finally asked, unable to stop the curious edge in his voice.

You straightened up so fast it was like you had been caught doing something embarrassing. Which, judging by the way you suddenly looked anywhere but at him, you probably had.

“I, um—” You hesitated, biting your lip. Then, after what seemed to be an internal debate, you let out a small sigh. “I actually, uh, forgot my glasses at home.”

Oh.

Oh.

Kuroo blinked, his amusement only growing. That explained a lot.

“That bad, huh?” he asked, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand.

“Not terrible,” you muttered, though the way you still weren’t looking at him suggested otherwise. “I can still see—just not, you know, well.”

That made him chuckle.

“Well, that’s going to be a little problem, isn’t it?”

You let out a small, almost defeated laugh. “Probably.”

Kuroo grinned and turned his attention back to the chart, skimming for the elements the teacher had mentioned. “Alright, let’s see… We’ve got—” He rattled off a few element names and their symbols, glancing at you to make sure you were following along.

Then, as if remembering you had an actual task to contribute to, you quickly dropped your gaze back on the textbook for reference. “You don’t have to—”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he interrupted smoothly. “What were the elements again? Aluminum, zinc, and—what was the last one?”

Still looking a little overwhelmed by the sheer speed at which this whole interaction was happening, you answered, “Um. Magnesium.”

“Magnesium, got it.” Kuroo tapped the page, making sure you could at least see where he was pointing. “Here, let’s work on this together. I’ll read it out, and you can double-check if I’m not mistaken.”

You let out a small, barely-there laugh—so quiet that if Kuroo hadn’t been paying attention, he would’ve missed it. But he was paying attention.

He had been ever since you sat next to him, really. He realized that he paid attention to you more than the teacher himself.

Kuroo read the information to you, sometimes exaggerating just for fun—“And this here, my dear lab partner, is the majestic zinc, element number 30, the unsung hero of batteries everywhere”—which earned him an amused shake of your head. You weren’t exactly talkative, per se, but he caught glimpses of amusement in the way you entertained his nonsense.

This must be the manifestation of that one tweet he posted, “My future wife is probably fake laughing at her boyfriend’s lame jokes rn. Be patient, Queen; a true clown is on the way.”

Now that you weren’t caught off guard, you nodded along, quickly jotting things down in your notes. It was then that Kuroo realized something else.

You hadn’t even introduced yourselves.

“You know,” he said, smiling a little, “I think we skipped a step.”

You paused, looking at him curiously, then back at your worksheet. “What?”

“The whole name thing.” He tapped his pen against the worksheet. “I asked you to do something before I even said hi. That’s pretty rude, huh?”

For the first time since he spoke to you, you actually met his gaze. And then, to his surprise, you cracked a small smile.

“A little, yeah.”

Kuroo chuckled. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”

You tilted your head slightly, and then, like you were amused at how backwards this whole conversation had gone, you finally replied, “[Last Name] [Name].”

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “And don’t worry—I’ll be your eyes for today. And for as long as you’d like.”

“Are you this flirty with every person you meet?”

“Only the ones that know their way around a calculator despite not even looking at it directly.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but he could see how his jokes were getting to you. By the time the teacher walked around to check your progress, Kuroo had already decided that this was way better than any cliché shoujo manga meet-cute.

Because really, what could be more romantic than offering to be someone’s eyes for the day—and maybe even for forever?

BONUS:

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[goron-king-darunia]

Story time! I thought writing and essays especially were stupid for most of grade school. Teachers would "correct" deliberate choices I made for creative writing and spelling was my absolute nemesis because we didn't exactly have dictionaries in class let alone the internet so I couldn't figure out how to spell words I'd heard and got marked down for using them.

When it came to essays on reading comprehension the questions seemed... How do I put this. I understood solving equations in math. They put a bunch of similar questions to make sure you could get consistent results so they knew you knew the process and not just that you memorized that 2+2 was 4 but weren't grasping somehow that 2 was a unit of two ones each so that 1+1+1+1 also equaled 4. But with reading questions they always seemed... like they weren't testing consistent things? Some questions would make sense like "Why do you think character did X? (Though my ass would get so mad if I got marked down on those because like "You're asking my opinion? You're asking me to interpret the text, the answer should vary?!" Even though I didn't have the language for that.) And then the other half of the questions were the questions I also hated on history tests where it was just memorizing pointless trivia that no human being would need to know like "what color were the curtains in the MC's bedroom?" which is the same shit as like "what happened on the 4th Thursday of May in 1411?" Like bitch, why would I know that? The date isn't as important to history as the actual events so ask me "what was X historical event about?" instead. I can tell you what the Boston Tea Party was about but why the fuck would I memorize the date? "What happened on page 12?" JUST ASK ME WHAT THE INCITING INCIDENT IS INSTEAD, I CAN GIVE YOU THAT ANSWER!

So I grew up putting minimal effort into English class for a while because a lot of the questions were some form of "what is the title of the book" levels of dumb, "give us your pre-approved opinion" frustration questions or the goddamn trap questions of "what was the MC's cousin's name that gets mentioned once in the entire book?" type questions. So I just phoned a lot of stuff in. Made my essays the bare minimum so I could move on to stuff I liked more.

Until about 7th grade when my English teacher made us do daily writing exercises. You had to write 5 paragraphs at least on any topic you wanted and it had to be 5 good paragraphs every day, around 5 sentences per paragraph. And I HATED it. "What do you MEAN I have to write an ESSAY every day?! This sucks!"

But the more I had to do it, the easier it was. Especially when the teacher realized that my handwriting was just not going to improve so I was allowed to write my entries during class but then type them at home and paste them into the book. So then I could actually look up words I wanted to use and learn to spell them correctly instead of having to guess or flip through a big ass book that at best the class had to share during school hours. (Electronic Pocket dictionaries of the 2000s my beloved. I carried mine everywhere when I finally got one.)

And for once I wasn't being graded on if my opinions on fucking Sonic the Hedgehog were valid or not. I wasn't being graded on whether Sonic being blue is actually deep symbolism or if blue is just a neat color. I was being graded on tangible qualitative skills like whether I could construct a good argument and whether my sentences were full sentences and whether all 5 paragraphs related to each other.

And suddenly writing was fun. And when we had free reading periods and could read for pleasure instead of "Okay, pick one of these pre-selected books so you can do a report on it later" I started to enjoy reading too. Enough that by the time I reached high school, I'd picked up Dante's Inferno at the nearby public library and read it on my own only to get excited when the next year it was required reading and I was ahead of the curve because I'd read it once before.

I get it. School is fucking terrible and the measures they use to test when you're "good" at something or not are fucked.

But if I decided to phone it in forever, I wouldn't be able to read through a full news article today or read through contracts and insurance benefits. I would have to trust strangers to tell me the truth on current events and business things. I could be fed easy-to-read lies and swallow them hook, line, and sinker because lies can be as short as you want but the truth is rarely brief.

If I kept phoning things in, I wouldn't have enjoyed half the stories and games that I do, met the friends that I've met, or made the art that I've made.

Having to write 5 paragraphs every day for a year taught me that... 5 paragraphs isn't much at all. Nowadays when I write a "short" story, it's 5,000 words or more. For fun.

I wouldn't know the things I know or how to find out the things I've learned if I just gave up and let the Liar Box with the Fake Answers write all my papers.

I get why it's tempting. School is awful if you're a normal kid, let alone a special needs kid like my ADHD ass. But not only will you not learn very useful and necessary skills by asking the liar box to write your papers, but you're setting yourself up to trust and rely on the liar box, and by direct extension, setting yourself up to forever rely on and trust strangers to give you "correct" information without having any of the skills to learn for yourself if their information is correct.

600 words is not that much. It's a chunk to be sure. But it's not that much.

This is already 1000 words. It doesn't take that long and I promise it's so worth it to be able to express your thoughts in your own words and learn things with your own power instead of having to trust a machine and the strangers that lie for fun to give you the stuff you want to know.

[loafysainz]

STOP STEALING | LN 4

lando norris!dad x fem!reader!mom

no warn

happy reading!!!

Lando Norris was a lot of things—an F1 driver, a McLaren superstar, a grown man who played way too much golf—but above all else, he was the clingiest husband on the planet.

Unfortunately for him, ever since they had two adorable little monsters named Noah and Leo, Lando had dropped from First Priority to Third Place in Y/N’s heart. And he was absolutely not okay with that.

So, as usual, the war between Father and Sons continued.

It started at breakfast.

Y/N was sitting at the dining table, feeding Leo tiny bites of his pancake while Noah sat beside them, swinging his little legs and rambling about the dinosaur book he was reading. Lando was right across from them, sulking dramatically, watching his wife and kids like a sad puppy.

Y/N, of course, didn’t even notice her husband’s suffering.

“Mamaaa, more pancakeee,” Leo mumbled, blinking up at her with big, sleepy eyes.

“Awww, my baby is still sleepy, huh?” Y/N cooed, ruffling his soft curls before bringing another bite to his mouth. “Here you go, bub.”

Lando gasped. Out loud.

“Oh? So he gets fed, but I don’t?”

Y/N finally looked up, raising an amused brow. “You have hands, babe.”

Lando placed a hand over his heart, looking absolutely wounded. “I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own wife.”

Noah giggled, chewing on his pancake. “Daddy, you’re not a baby. You can eat by yourself.”

“But I wanna be a baby,” Lando shot back, pouting.

Noah made a face. “But you’re old.”

Lando dramatically clutched the air. “I’m Y/N’s baby, actually. Right, babe?”

Y/N snorted. “You were my baby. Then we had actual babies.”

Lando gasped again. “So that’s it, huh? Used and discarded. Thrown away like an old toy.” He wiped an imaginary tear.

Noah laughed, and Leo, still chewing, tilted his head. “Mamaaa, Daddy cryin’?”

Y/N leaned over and kissed Leo’s forehead. “No, bubba, he’s just being dramatic.”

Lando narrowed his eyes. “You love them more than me.”

Y/N smirked. “Obviously.”

“WHAT—”

“Daddy, share Mama,” Noah said, giggling.

Lando scowled playfully. “You share Mama.”

“Nooo, she’s my mama!” Noah argued, wrapping his little arms around Y/N’s waist protectively.

Leo, not understanding but wanting to be included, immediately clung to Y/N’s other side, glaring at his dad. “Mineee!”

Lando gaped at them. “EXCUSE ME. That’s MY wife.”

“OUR Mama,” Noah corrected.

“MY wife,” Lando argued.

“Mamaaa, tell Daddy stop,” Leo whined.

“Tell them to stop taking my wife!” Lando shot back, crossing his arms. “She was mine first!”

Y/N, now laughing, leaned into her giggling sons. “Sorry, babe. Looks like I’ve been stolen.”

Lando huffed, narrowing his eyes at his children. “You two little thieves.”

Noah stuck his tongue out. “Hmph! We win.”

Lando grumbled under his breath, stabbing his pancake with unnecessary aggression. “I’m calling the police.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “For what?”

“To report two tiny criminals who stole my wife.”

Noah and Leo giggled uncontrollably.

But Lando wasn’t done.

If they were going to steal Y/N, then he was going to steal her back.

***

Later that afternoon, Y/N was sitting on the couch with both Noah and Leo snuggled up beside her. Leo was sleepily sucking his thumb, curled up on her lap like a little kitten, while Noah rested his head against her shoulder, humming quietly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Lando stood by the doorway, watching with pure, unfiltered jealousy.

No room for him. Again.

Enough was enough.

With a determined look, he marched over, squeezed himself onto the couch, and shoved Noah aside—gently, of course, but enough to make space.

“Daddy!” Noah whined.

“Shhh. I’m taking my wife back.”

Lando wrapped his arms around Y/N and dramatically buried his face in her shoulder. “I miss you.”

Y/N, amused, simply ran her fingers through his curls. “I was literally with you all morning.”

“Not enough.” Lando lifted his head, glaring at the two small humans beside her. “They hogged you.”

Noah pouted. “Mama is ours.”

“No, she’s MINE,” Lando corrected, tightening his grip around Y/N like an overgrown koala.

Leo, still sleepy, mumbled, “Daddy…no fight Mama…”

“I’m not fighting Mama, I’m fighting you two,” Lando muttered.

Y/N laughed, wrapping an arm around her overly clingy husband. “Aww, my poor baby.”

Lando peeked up. “Am I your baby again?”

“Always,” she assured, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Lando smirked victoriously at Noah. “Ha. Told you.”

Noah huffed. “Hmph. Mamaaa, don’t kiss him.”

“I’ll kiss Daddy if I want to,” Y/N teased, pressing another kiss to Lando’s cheek.

Lando grinned like a little kid. “Heard that, Noah? Mama wants to kiss me.”

Noah made a face. “EW.”

Leo, still sleepy but watching everything, suddenly declared, “Mama kiss Leo too.”

Y/N cooed, immediately showering kisses on Leo’s chubby cheeks. “Of course, my love.”

Leo giggled, satisfied.

Noah gasped. “ME TOO, MAMA.”

Y/N laughed and kissed Noah too, making him giggle and hide his face in her shirt.

Lando watched in horror. “Wait, what about me?!”

Y/N smirked. “You already got yours.”

Lando gasped dramatically. “But I need MORE.”

Noah smirked. “Daddy, you said we were stealing Mama, but you are the clingiest.”

Lando blinked.

Noah grinned.

Y/N burst into laughter.

Leo, still sleepy but wanting to participate, softly mumbled, “Daddy lose.”

Lando groaned, slumping against Y/N. “I hate it here.”

Y/N kissed his cheek again, making him perk up instantly. “Better?”

“Hmm. Maybe one more.”

Y/N laughed but obliged, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

Noah and Leo groaned in unison. “EWWWW.”

Lando smirked at his sons. “Heh. MY wife.”

And with that, the war for Y/N’s attention continued.

Lando may have lost some battles, but he would never surrender.

END

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 19

Summary: Wanda plans a proposal.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

It’s hard to believe what you’re hearing.

“I’m sorry, just one more time. I want to make sure I’m getting this right” you plead, trying really hard not to scream.

“I cut my finger in a broken glass” the man explains, calmly. And then he adds the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. “I cauterized it with a lighter”

Of course! Why would anyone go to the ER when they can just burn their skin off.

“Right. So… let’s try to not do that when medical care is nearby. I’ll apply a bandage and give you a cream”

You work in silence, until he speaks again.

“While I’m here, could I get circumcised?”

With a sigh, you stand up, asking Bucky to finish off for you. Tale as old as time, people thinking that the ER is open for anyone with a strange mole or pain that is not life threatening.

Your phone rings and your shoulders relax immediately.

“Hey, love”

“Hi. Boy, you sound tired” Wanda says, surprised that you’re so defeated after a few hours into your shift. You rarely complain.

“I’ve had the weirdest day, that’s all. People testing my patience, putting nail glue instead of eyedrops”

“Yikes”

“Guys asking if we perform circumcisions”

“Gross. But do you?” she jokes and you laugh.

“Dear God, no. As a lesbian, I’d rather not deal with that area unless it’s truly an emergency”

“Mmhm, and yet you’re so good when you’re wearing the strap” she teases, making you crash against the vending machine. Fortunately, the force knocks a bag of chips and you smile, picking it up.

“Number one, tease. You still owe me over that lap dance. And two, wanna go out tomorrow?”

Wanda’s entire demeanor changes after that, and it’s really hard not to get worried. She’s been like this ever since you mentioned Sokovia.

“I have a lot of work to finish, you know the book release is soon, plus Wendy…”

“Yeah, no. I get it. That’s fine. Maybe I can take the kids out to give you some peace and quiet”

“You know what, my mom loves bowling. Why don’t you all go?”

“Sure” you say, agreeing to anything Wanda suggests. “Alright, I’m getting paged. Hope it’s an actual emergency this time”

“I hope so too” Wanda says, smiling,

“Love you” you say, a bit worried she won’t say it back, but she does and there’s nothing different about the way she replies, adding a soft “my love” before hanging up.

So, maybe it’s all in your head.

Right?

—

Wanda hates lying to you.

The thing is, she still has to figure out a way to propose. It’s technically not hard to get everything ready without you noticing, considering your shifts can take more than a day. If she only knew exactly what to do.

She’s looking around her studio, thinking about the things you like. Her eyes eventually settle on a copy of her latest book. Thankfully, Laura never had the dedication changed, so she could still give it to you.

Or, she could give you a special copy with something entirely different.

As her mind begins to come up with a plan, Wanda smiles to herself.

Finally, she knows where to start.

—

It feels weird to have the entire Maximoff gang, minus your beautiful, stunning, out of this world girlfriend.

Darcy would call you a simp if she could hear all your thoughts.

But you miss Wanda and even if you knew she wasn’t joining you tonight, you’re still following her like a lost puppy.

“You’re absolutely sure?” you say, your hands around her waist.

“Yes, detka. I’m sorry. But we’re going to the wedding tomorrow and that’s going to be fun, right? You’ll have me all to yourself”

“Ok” you sigh dramatically, sinking your face in the crook of her neck. “I just miss you”

“Me too. If I’m not too tired we could watch an episode of The Golden Girls when you’re all back” she promises and you squeeze her waist, kissing behind her ear.

“Maybe I can persuade you with my very charming personality…” you place another kiss in her neck, sucking lightly on the skin. “Or with my very skilled fingers”

Wanda moans your name, melting in your arms and you are about to call victory when her mother opens up the door, shouting that it’s time to leave.

“I may have left out a very important piece of information” Wanda stops you before you go out to the foyer to meet her mother. “She gets very competitive…”

“So that’s where you got it from”

“Hey!”

But Wanda can’t continue the argument as Ekaterina walks in, handing you what looks like bowling uniforms. You’re surprised to see it has your name embroidered, and the Maximoff name on the back.

“How did you get this made so soon?”

“I know a guy” she replies cryptically, and you gulp.

Will she scream at you when she sees you know nothing about bowling?

“Come on, we’re going to be late, girls!”

“Oh, I’m staying. I have work to do” Wanda explains, lowering her voice when her mother gives her a stern look.

“Then the teams will be incomplete!”

“I don’t have to play” you jump, hoping that this can be your out.

“You have hands?”

“Y-yes”

“Then you play. Let’s go. Pietro’s meeting us there”

Billy and Tommy are excited as they follow their grandmother out, and you stall in the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t need someone to clean your brushes? Sharpen your pencils?”

“Detka, go” she says, laughing.

“I’m scared” you whine pathetically. She kisses you, her lips moving against yours. It’s so good it makes you forget the reason for your little meltdown.

“I’ll see you later”

—

Pietro is already waiting for you, knowing that his mother loves to jump right into the game. He’s set two bowling allies, and you split into teams.

You’re pleasantly surprised to see Bucky approaching you.

“Pietro promised me a beer if I joined so you could complete the teams”

Everyone takes a couple of shots to practice and you try to follow their movements. Bucky notices how lost you are, offering his guidance here and there. Your shots are not particularly powerful and the ball leans towards the gutter more often than not.

The point system is beyond your comprehension so you can only nod and cheer when Bucky completes a strike.

Beyond that, the doctor in you is looking at everything in the space (heavy objects, lots of movement, oily floors) and considering the possible injuries.

This is why, when Billy walks past the lane line, you go after him, afraid that he’ll fall. But you’re the only one on your ass as he lets go of the ball a second later, smiling.

“Y/N! That’s not how you play!” Ekaterina admonishes, and you sigh, crawling back to them.

“I’m going to get us more food”

Bucky is right behind you, chuckling as the woman keeps her winning streak.

“Is she a pro?”

“Seems to me” you say, ordering more fries and another soda for you. “Hey, can I ask you about Darcy? Do you have something against her or…”

“I like her”

“See, I told her she was just imagining things and… wait. Like her how?” you realise he’s looking away, a soft blush tinging his cheeks. Your hand flies to his arm and you jump around excited. “You have a crush on Darcy”

“I don’t”

“Nu-uh. You do. Why didn’t you tell me? Or better yet, her”

“I don’t know what to say when she’s around. I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t speak a lot and she does”

“Right” you nod your head. Truthfully, Bucky is different than the guys Darcy dates (in the best possible way) and it’s been a while. “Well, do you want a wingwoman?”

“Not really” he says, almost looking mortified. “It’s better if she thinks we’re enemies, honestly”

“Sure” you nod, pretending you’ll let the subject go. Bucky’s too naive, though, if he believes you won’t do anything about it.

For a bit, you watch the kids play in silence, while Pietro chats with a woman, obviously flirting while he pretends to correct her posture. Ekaterina, unaware that he’s flirting, comes over and scolds him on his bad technique.

Bucky and you laugh as he comes back to her side, and she forces him to do a couple of exercises.

When you get your orders of fries, you walk back to the group, smirking at him.

“Mama’s boy got cockblocked” you whisper.

“Hey, сука!”

“Pietro!” Ekaterina turns to glare at him, and you poke your tongue out as he gets an earful for the second time in the night.

This is a lot more fun than bowling.

—

Best part of coming back is that the kids are pretty tired, so they head straight to their room. When you go check on them, they’re both fast asleep, and Sparky pushes the door open a bit wider so he can jump on Billy’s bed.

“Better that than you sleeping with my girl” you say, closing the door.

You think it’s strange that Wanda hasn’t shown up to greet you, so you walk up to her study, knocking once. After the second time, you worry and open the door just a tiny bit.

“Wands? You ok in there?”

“Oh, hey! You scared me!” you notice she’s wearing your headphones, and you smile, opening the door wider.

“We just got back, the kids are asleep already”

You try to step inside but Wanda’s quick on her feet, standing right in front of you.

“Good to hear that. Was Mom good? Didn’t yell at you too much?”

“Nah, she was fine. Pietro got the short end of the stick. What you working on?” you smile, trying to get a look at her sketches.

“Nothing. Are you tired?”

“Not really. I could sit around while you keep working if you haven’t finished yet…” you say, approaching the table. One more step, and the surprise will be ruined. So, Wanda does the only thing that comes to mind.

“Why don’t you fuck me, then?”

That makes you turn.

“Say that again”

“If you’re not too tired, why don’t you fuck me?” Wanda smiles, amused at how easy it was to get your attention.

“Well, I definitely can do that” you walk back to her, carrying her bridal style. “Since you asked so nicely”

—

The big day is finally here.

One of the brides is not.

Or so Darcy says when you walk into the venue, hours before the ceremony. You’re wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking as people finish decorating and setting up everything.

Your friend shows up, wearing one of those radio earpieces.

“Nice one, Britney”

“Bitch” she snaps, but then closes her eyes, breathing in and out. “I need you to go get Carol”

“Sure, is she in the dressing room?”

“No. She is at the hospital. Working”

“What? The wedding’s in four hours, she should be getting her hair and makeup done” you look at your phone, thinkig maybe there was an emergency and you had to be at work too.

“Just bring her, please. Abduct her if necessary” Darcy changes into the earpiece, shouting. “No, I requested mauve. Mauve!”

You wished Darcy had told you to get Carol before you even got here. Now you’ll have to drive all the way back to the city, as the wedding is happening at a small inn close to the mountains.

Racing against time, you walk in to ask around for her.

“She’s in OR 3” one of the nurses tells you, with a loaded look. “Doing a carpal thunnel decompression”

“Thanks”

You scrub in as fast as you can, pushing the door to the OR. Everyone stares at you, clearly on edge over Carol’s presence. She’s acting like it’s just another day, and like she’s not two hours behind on Darcy’s very detailed, strict schedule.

“Hey, bride to be” you greet, hoping she stops what she’s doing. With a sigh, you stand up next to her, smiling. “Are you excited?”

“Nope, it’s just another day”

“Well, I call bullshit”

One of the nurses laughs and the rest of the surgical team visibly relaxes.

“You’re getting married today. We still need to do your hair and makeup and a shower wouldn’t hurt either”

“Hey!”

“As maid of honor it is my duty to tell it like it is. Now, let someone else close up, and let’s go”

“I was supposed to do an arthroscopy after this”

“Darcy’s waiting in the car” you lie, knowing fear will be the only driving force to make Carol change her mind.

Sure enough, her eyes widen and she gives instructions to the rest of the team. When she’s washing her hands and scrubbing out, you join her, smiling.

“You ok?”

“I… it’s all so real. For months, we were planning and picking cake and decorations but it’s happening today and it feels like… a part of me is excited, another part of me is scared. Like really, truly terrified. And I don’t know what to make of it”

“It means you have something to lose” you say softly. “But a lot more to gain. It’s gonna be fine. You’ll forget all about it when you see Maria, I promise”

Finally, you get her to leave the hospital. A couple of people wave as you walk back to the parking lot, some of them saying they’ll see you at the party. Carol rolls her eyes when she realises you lied about Darcy, but you just shrug your shoulders.

“I guess I deserve it for being difficult”

“Yeah, you do” you laugh, driving back.

Of course, Darcy ushers you to the room to get hair and makeup, glaring at Carol and asking you to not leave her alone.

“I feel guilty for making Darcy help with everything” Carol says, and you let out a laugh. “What?”

“Did you actually ask her to do anything? She loves bossing everyone around. Should be taking Fury’s job at this point”

“Why are you still here? Makeup, go, go!” Darcy appears behind you a second later, making you yelp.

“Tyrant”

“Lazy ass”

Of course you do as she says, mainly out of fear.

Wanda arrives a little early, checking in as you had decided to stay at the inn instead of driving back home when the party was over.

“Finally, someone who understands the importance of punctuality!” Darcy says as she runs into your girlfriend. “I barely finished and I have to get my makeup and hair done”

“Would you like some help?”

“It’s fine, I’m low maintenance” Darcy declines, but Wanda’s not having it.

“I actually have something I want to ask you… so we could talk while I help”

“Mmm, I do love an efficient approach. Come on then” Darcy says, ushering Wanda into her own room.

She’s wearing a low cut burgundy dress that displays her very generous assets.

“Eyes are up here, Maximoff” Darcy jokes when Wanda’s stare travels a bit lower.

“Right. Let’s begin”

Wanda tells Darcy everything. How she found the ring, but decided to keep it to herself instead of putting pressure on you.

Your casual mentions of a wedding, the trip to Sokovia.

“Finally, she told you. She was terrified you’d be mad” Darcy comments.

“Well, that’s when I realised. Maybe it’s my turn to take the lead. Ask her to marry me” Wanda says, and she can see Darcy’s a bit shocked.

“Interesting. So why do you want to talk to me?”

Wanda smiles, telling her the proposal idea she came up with it. It’s simple, it’s unique, but she has a feeling that it’s something you’ll love.

“Honestly, Wanda? You could get down on one knee while she’s in the toilet and she’d be giddy about it” Darcy says, making Wanda laugh. “But I do think it’s cute and she’ll never ever shut up about it. Was that all?” she says after Wanda stays silent.

The woman sits in front of your friend, checking her makeup one last time, and with a sigh, asks the final question.

“I need your blessing”

“What am I? The Pope?”

“Darcy!”

“The lesbian godmother. First Carol and Maria with their wedding planning and now you…” she rambles, clearly amused.

“Darcy!” Wanda interrupts her, trying to keep it serious. “We both know her mother is the worst person. She’s starting to connect with her siblings. You’re her real family. The one person who’s stood by her through everything. So, it would mean the world to me, to at least know you’ll think of me as worthy of Y/N”

Darcy leans back, eyeing Wanda up and down. It’s hard not to feel intimidated, but the woman holds her ground, staring back.

“Fine, the Lord be with you or whatever it is you want me to say”

“Thank you” Wanda hugs her, excited.

“If you hurt her…”

“I know” Wanda says.

“As long as we agree. Now, let’s get out and see who’s already here so they can get seated”

Wanda helps out as much as she can with incoming guests, showing them where they can grab some refreshments while the ceremony begins.

She’s so focused that she misses an arm around her waist, until she hears your voice, happy as always when you greet her.

“Hey, love”

“Detka, hi…” she turns, but whatever she was about to say next is forgotten when she takes in your beautiful appearance.

Unlike most of the time, your hair is flowing down your shoulders and back in waves, framing your face perfectly. You’re not wearing a lot of makeup, but it’s enough to make your beautiful eyes stand out in contrast to the pink dress you’re wearing.

Don’t even get Wanda started on the dress. There’s a slit on the side that shows your leg everytime you take a step.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a dress”

“Not my style, but I’ll take one for the bride” you joke, adjusting the straps. “Heels too, I’m in agony”

“You look stunning” Wanda says, unable to look away.

The way you blush makes her bite her lip.

“Thank you, baby. Though I can’t wait to take it off”

You mean you’re eager to go back to wearing comfortable clothes, but Wanda’s eyes darken.

“Yeah, I can’t wait either” she says with a playful look, which makes you blush again.

“Hey, quit flirting and get on your spot. Music is about to start” Darcy says, nudging you at the begining of the aisle.

“Damn, Lewis, you’re taking the girls for a walk” you point at her rack, and she flips you off.

“Sorry, I'm late!” someone says behind you and you turn at the familiar voice.

“Belova!”

“Hey, you!” she pulls you for a hug that is much too strong for someone so little. “Missed ya”

“Missed you too. Go, find your seat before Darcy goes insane” you point at Kate, who’s looking around, impatient.

You’re supposed to walk down the aisle with Carol’s older brother, and he joins you a second later, bossed around by Darcy.

“She’s a firecracker” he comments. You nod, standing still and waiting for the music to begin. He leans forward, smiling. “I hear weddings are a great place to meet people”

“Really? I wouldn’t know. I met my girlfriend when I crossed the street to check on her son” you joke, sparing him from taking the flirting any further.

“Right”

“Maybe a lesbian wedding isn’t going to be for you, mate. Well, the firecracker over there is definitely straight, but I’m trying to set her up with someone else”

“Shall we?” we offers his arm, and you accept it with a nod.

Both brides look stunning, and though it’s a very short ceremony, everyone’s crying or at the very least, moved by their vows.

Wanda can’t keep her eyes from you, though. She can’t help but imagine you in a white dress, probably sneaking a very corny joke as you promise to love her for the rest of your lives.

It isn’t long before the drinks start to pour, the food served and the brides take their place at a special table, chatting and laughing.

By the time they have their first dance as a married couple, you’re at the edge of the dance floor, clapping when some fireworks and confetti are set off. The light glow reflects in your eyes and once again, Wanda is enthralled by the view.

Which is why, when more people begin to dance, she approaches you, offering her hand.

“A dance, m’lady?”

“Why, I couldn’t possibly say no” you smile, allowing her to lead.

“Have I mentioned you look beautiful, detka?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again” you blush, your hands going around her waist. “Now, I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but have you given any thought to that trip to Sokovia?”

“Well, I… I’m not sure yet” Wanda lies, but almost gives in when she catches the disappointment in your face. But if she tells you the answer, it will ruin the surprise. Instead, she does something that will surely distract you.

Bumping her nose against yours, Wanda leans forward to kiss you. You smile against her lips, pulling her closer. The both of you are so caught up in your own little world that you don’t notice the bouquet that is flying in the air and crashes against your heads.

“Aww” Wanda laughs.

“What the fuck?” you turn around, noticing everyone’s clapping as Wanda takes it in her hands, admiring the flowers.

“Looks like we have two future brides” Carol says, smiling as she waves at you. “Now move so Maria can toss her flowers”

“Wait! I need to get Darcy! Be right back”

To your surprise, she’s still wearing her earpiece, arguing with catering about things no one really cares about.

“Hey. You’re not enjoying the party” you say, trying to take the earpiece away from her.

“I’m working”

“You’re a surgeon, not a party planner. And I don’t see anyone needing a limb removed, or anything of the sort. Come on” you take her hand, leading her to a table. You tap on Bucky’s shoulder, and he pales when he sees Darcy right behind you.

“Please tell me you didn’t”

“Darcy, why don’t you and Bucky dance?” you cut him off, smiling innocently.

“Pass” Darcy says, but you shove her right into his arms, stealing her earpiece. “Hey!”

But you walk away before she can chase you, going back to Wanda. She waves the bouquet and you accept it. Your girlfriend has taken it as a sign to set a date for her plan.

“Hey, there’s a private party for the book release next Friday. Are you free to go?”

“Absolutely, anything for you, my love” you pull her close, kissing the tip of her nose.

You keep talking and drinking, catching up with Yelena and you also notice that Darcy is still dancing with Bucky. They’re actually talking, and you hope that Darcy can at least let go of the idea that they are enemies.

Most people leave to drive back to the city, but you hang around until Carol and Maria are ready to leave for their very short honeymoon in Cabo.

“Wear lots of sunscreen and drink margaritas” you say goodbye to them. “And don’t think about work. We’ll be just fine”

“Oh, trust me, our phones will be off” Maria says, smiling as you hug her. “Thanks for everything. Have you seen Darcy? We want to say goodbye to her”

“She’s… huh” you turn around, looking as she’s chatting with Bucky in the bar. “Busy, I guess?”

“Someone just lost five dollars” Carol makes fun of Maria.

“I won’t pay until we settle that other one”

“What other one?” you ask, curious.

“If your wedding will be the next one we attend” Carol laughs.

“Well… yeah, no comment. Come on, leave before you miss your flight”

Luckily, you have a room at the inn because you absolutely don’t feel like driving back to the city.

“Did you hear from your mom? Are the kids doing ok?” you ask Wanda, sittig on the bed and removing your shoes with a sigh. “I am never wearing heels again”

“Yes, detka. Relax, everything’s fine” she says, coming back to the room wearing a bathroom robe that looks beyond comfy.

“Help me with the zipper, please?” you say, pushing your hair out of the way. She pulls the zipper down, releasing you from the fabric until the dress is pooling at your feet.

“Not so fast” she says, hands around your waist.

You laugh when she kisses the spot between your neck and shoulder, tickling the skin.

“Had fun?” you sigh, melting in her arms.

“Yes. I drew us a bath, come on”

When you’re finally in the bathtub, Wanda goes in, relaxing against your front.

“I like weddings” she says suddenly, and you chuckle.

“Yeah? Were you dreaming about your wedding when you were little?”

“Oh, I used to do this ceremony with my teddy bear. He was real handsome. We got married a couple of times” Wanda says, smiling at the memory.

“Guess I’ll have to fight Mr. Bear to set the record straight” you mumble, struggling to keep your eyes open. Between Wanda’s warmth, the water and the candles she lit, you could pass out any minute now.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you ever think about your wedding? As a kid, I mean”

“Not really. My parents weren’t married, so I guess I only thought that people had kids. Learning what being married meant came later. But I like it. As a concept, I mean. Having someone to be your partner, through everything… it doesn’t sound bad”

“Right” Wanda agrees, smiling as she imagines what the future holds for you two.

“Surgeons are terrible spouses, though” you warn her, which makes her laugh.

“I don’t believe that. Not from you, at least”

“Mmm, time will tell” you yawn, making Wanda turn. “Sorry. Just tired”

“Come on. Let’s get to bed”

Just as Wanda thought, you’re asleep the minute you settle in bed. As she watches you dream peacefully, her heart beats faster at the prospect of the future.

She can’t wait to propose.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

i've seen a lot of discussion of the issue with the book "daddy's little toy" and how the author was arrested in australia for csam. i haven't read it but it seems like a fictional romance novel based on grooming/pedophilia. from what i can tell, the romance takes place after the girl turns 18 but that the man had been interested since she was a toddler. to me, it doesn't seem like it qualifies as csam (since it's fiction) but the snippets have read def make me uncomfortable (not that that warrants being illegal or arresting someone...)

i've seen some arguments that the book goes too far and isn't pedophilia kink, and was wondering if you had resources on this kind of kink? i've done a lot of unpacking and educating over the past few years regarding kink, erotica, porn and censorship and i want to make a decision for myself, but i haven't researched pedophilia kink specifically.

since you're my most trusted sex educator on here, wanted to know if you had an opinion or had heard this story or any resources you have.

I'm gonna be super honest: this is the first I'm hearing of this book, so I really don't have much to say about it that's going to be interesting or insightful. the book also seems to have been pulled from any sellers' sites due to the legal controversy, so I can't even find a blurb to tell me much more; all I've got to go on are articles informing me that it's about a "barely legal" 18 year old and her father's friend.

not my cup of tea, if I may be honest. even if it weren't looking pretty impossible to get ahold of a copy now, I can't say this is a book that I'd have been seeking out to read for fun; an older character hooking up with someone they've known since that person was very young is a big ol' squick for me. (I mean, frankly, I can't even really handle romance novels about college undergrads, since I work with undergrads constantly in my day job and they seem So Incredibly Young to me. those are kids, they're not sexy.)

re: the author's legal trouble, I know very little about Australian law as it pertains to this. in America, sure, works of fiction don't qualify as child sexual abuse material, but I have no idea what the standards in Australia are, and since it seems the author has in fact been charged possessing, producing, and disseminating child porn I have to assume there's a difference, since there's been no mention of the police finding any actual material of real children being sexually abused in the author's possession.

I hope I've made clear on here that I'm staunchly in favor of prison abolition and against so-called carceral justice; I genuinely don't see what problems the author's arrest is meant to solve in this situation. she wrote something that I think is kind of yucky, sure, but yucky isn't a crime, or at least it shouldn't be.

I have very little to offer you in the way of information about actual child sexual abuse and grooming as a kink; understandably, I think, the spaces where that's discussed are not particularly public or open spaces, and I don't want to find them! where I'm comfortable is much more in the realm of age play and related kinks, where everything is taking place between adults who are solidly of the legal age of consent and everyone involved is well aware that they're playing a silly little game of make believe, which is, obviously, a very crucially different thing than child sexual abuse

[domoz-writes]

Am thinking about non transmigration au where SY discovers his sexuality via 400k of unposted Mobing...

My thoughts are as such:

Right before the end of PIDW Airplane posts an update that basically says "Hey due to a mix of health and personal reasons I won't be able to post for a while sorry!!"

SY, who is in the hospital with horrible food poisoning isn't happy about this!! Something like this right after a cliffhanger??? Really??? And he's not got a lot else to do In the hospital, so he kind of... accidentally... doxxes Airplane...

He was just looking for an account that he thought that hack author would check since he's obviously not looking at zhongdian, honest!!! But it turns out that this person lives somewhat nearby where SY does and is much cuter than he expected some hack author to be

So he maybe goes to wander around the area (its nearby!! He's allowed to go on walks isn't he!!) And as a matter of fact finds Airplane!! Right on the sidewalk!!!

And starts off with a rather aggressive introduction before realizing that his favorite shitty erotica author 1) has obviously healing electrocution burns, 2) is?? Way too skinny? Like on par with SY himself and hes chronically ill, 3) is standing outside a social services office and 4) appears to be carrying everything he owns with him on his back

He immediately feels so guilty that he pivots from angry ranting to guiltily offering him a place to stay or, he can at least pay for a hotel room?? SQH does a very brief amount of mental calculus on if he'd rather deal with government bureaucracy or getting kidnapped and axe murdered by a crazy fan, shrugs, and chooses the latter.

When SQH point out that he can't pay SY back in any way SY tells him that he can pay him back by writing a better novel!!! SQH teases him about being a devoted fan and offers to let him read some unpublished extras and backstory stuff (like SJ & YQY backstory, that sort of thing). Predictably, SY likes this a lot more and complains that it wasn't in the novel, in turn Airplane laments that if more readers were like SY he wouldn't be in this situation in thr first place.

Related: SQH can't update because his laptop is fried. SY claims "to know a guy". SY does not know a guy, but he has money, so... (the files are fine and saved in like 3 different cloud locations, Airplane already learned that lesson)

But PIDW ended on a cliffhanger! SY doesn't want to wait!!! So he bothers Airplane until he finds out that Airplane actually haS two endings waiting in the wings and he still hasn't decided which one to post. Reason being: he's kinda 80% done with writing a sequel of sorts, but he knows if he posts it it will basically get his zhongdian account nuked and remove his chances of making money from it ever again, because the current readers of PIDW would HATE IT

Sy eventually argues that *he's* a reader and that Airplane should let *him* read it and if he deems it good then it's certainly good enough to post!! SQH finds this very funny because SY is not the average PIDW at all, but decides to allow it

The sequel in question is a slow burn romance from Mobei-Juns point of view that leans heavily into drama and political intrigue. He stands by Binghes side and quietly pines and remains loyal and Binghe slowly discovers that devoted loyalty and understanding is actually the thing that makes him happy (vs empty relationships with his many wives)

(Mobei Jun is written in a very grey-ace way, not understanding the carnal desires of other demons but would do anything for Junshang if asked etc etc)

SY ADORES this book and thinks that if it were posted online it would be his #1 favorite. He really relates to MBJ as a protagonist and Binghe is still the best!! And then he is completely blindsided when the two of them have tender emotional gay sex

Being SY, he absolutely tries to justify this to himself as like, aha,what a clever subversion...! You can tell because this sex scene was way better written then all the ones in PIDW, but obviously they aren't gay (He is too flustered to bring this up to Airplane in person despite having no problem doing so with the het stuff)

The novel ends with, like, Bingge sealing away Xin mo and promising to be just as loyal to his general as MBJ is to him, and is very obviously romantic to the point that even SY can't miss it. So he goes back and rereads it to make sure it was actually meant to be a romance (...danmei) novel all along. And then again just to make sure and he's kinda losing his mind a little because he really related to MBJ in this book and... MBJ had gay sex??

Of course you also have the "and they were roommates" situation going on at the same time. The rituals are intricate. Airplane is aware that's he's giving SY some kind of sexuality crisis but he has no idea how intense! He's genuinely fine having an unrequited crush on SY. Homoerotically teasing him is fun and it doesn't have to go further than that! Hes not really in a place to be doing any dating anyways and bro-cuddles have him covered!

Side note: I like the idea of SY being very proud when Airplane gains weight bc its Physical proof that he's taking good care of his friend and also maybe catering to what he finds attractive

When SY finally gets to the point where he asks about his sexuality, Airplane pretty much gives him the "I don't see a point in labels, I just like who I like" speech.

SY who loves categorizing and labeling things: can you do that?? Is that allowed??????

He then gets pointed to Baby's First LGBTQ resource website, and after determining that he's maybe not gay but maybe is something else immediately jumps into googling "how to date your best friend who is also your roommate"

[cosmerelists]

If Cosmere Characters Were Given Three Wishes From a Genie...

As requested by anon. :)

[A few of the jokes in this are WAT spoilers! They are marked in the entry title in case you need to skip 'em]

Cosmere characters have just rubbed a magic lamp and now they're being offered three wishes by a genie! How will that go for them?

1. Steris

Genie: There are three rules! Genie: I cannot kill anyone, I cannot bring anyone back to life, and I cannot make anyone fall in love. Steris: (Taking notes) Can I wish for more wishes? Genie: No. Steris: Can I wish for someone else to have more wishes? Genie: Also no. Steris: Can I cancel a wish in the future if I no longer want it? Genie: ...no. Steris: Can I modify a wish after wishing it? Genie: ...no. Steris: I see. Steris: My first wish, then, is to help you create an actual Wish Rule Handbook because that, I'm afraid, is a lot more than three rules. Steris: Let's get drafting! Genie: Why am I afraid

2. Kelsier

Kelsier: Three wishes? Amazing! Kelsier: First, I'd like to finally obtain the exact physical body I've been dreaming of all these years! Kelsier: Second, I'd like Scadrial to be utterly protected from the nefarious designs of Odium or any other hostile Shard. Kelsier: And third, I'd like Hoid to stub his toe every day for the rest of his life. Kelsier: Phew! That was way easier than what I've been doing! Kelsier: I can't believe I wasted hundreds of years on machinations, ha ha! Genie: ... Kelsier: What?

3. Szeth [Mild WAT spoilers!]

Szeth: (suspiciously) Wishes? Szeth: As in, things that I personally want? Szeth: What is this, some kind of therapy? Szeth: Away with you! Genie: H-Hey, if you want to wish for some therapy, it sounds like that might be kind of helpful for you? Szeth: Away, I say! Genie: Well, I tried.

4. Taravangian

Taravangian: [slams a 400-page tome down on the table] Taravangian: This is my first wish--it includes caveats for every possible loophole, bad faith interpretation, and/or unintended consequence. Taravangian: I declare that this whole book constitutes the sum total of Wish #1. Genie: ...Which is? Taravangian: I'd like Hoid to stub his toe every day for as long as he lives. Genie: ... Genie: That wish required 400 pages?! Taravangian: I like to be thorough.

5. Vin

Vin: I would like to always have the exact metal or metals I desire in my flask as soon as I desire them. Vin: I'd also like Elend to feel a surge of reassurance that yes of course I love him whenever he feels doubt. Genie: Two very fine wishes. What is your third? Vin: Hmmm.... Vin: Honestly, I just keep thinking that I'd like to be faster than a horse. Genie: ...Like, horses in general or one specific horse? Vin: Just...horses in general. Genie: ...It's not the weirdest wish I've heard today.

6. Adolin [WAT SPOILERS!]

Adolin: Oooh, I've always wanted the ability to point at an outfit in a fashion magazine and instantly have that outfit in my perfect size. Genie: Granted! Adolin: I'd also like Shallan to be brought here safely to Azimir if that's what she wants--like, please ask her first just in case. Genie: Granted! Adolin: ... Adolin: I would also like everyone to think I gave those wishes in the reverse order. Genie: Granted! Adolin: Wait, does that count as a wish?? Adolin: ... Adolin: No, actually I'm okay with that.

7. Azure

Azure: I would like to know where Nightblood is, please. Azure: I've been looking for so long! It's IMPOSSIBLE to find! Genie: [silently hands her a map] Azure: ... Azure: IT'S BEEN ON ROSHAR THE WHOLE TIME?!

8. Lightsong

Lightsong: You grant three wishes, huh? Lightsong: I can only grant one wish. And I have to die to do it. Genie: That's a tough break. Lightsong: Well, to be fair I live a life of luxury and worship, rather than being trapped in a tiny lamp. Genie: I appreciate that. Many people treat my abilities as frivolous, wishing for things they could obtain for themselves if they tried or for things they should never truly have. Genie: It is a genuine relief to meet someone who understands the true import of wishes. Lightsong: ... Lightsong: I was gonna wish for you to hand me that glass so I don't have to get up, but now it feels awkward. Genie: ... Lightsong: I'm just really comfortable right now.

9. Kaladin

Kaladin: [muttering to himself] Can't wish for all of my friends to be safe. They'd probably be magically locked in a room forever or something. Kaladin: I could wish for Oroden to grow up happy, but what if that means he dies if he gets sad or something? Or like loses the ability to feel things? Kaladin: I could wish for Moash to go back to how he was, but how could I take away his ability to make choices? Kaladin: It's too much! I don't want any wishes! Genie: Uh....granted? Kaladin: Did that count as a wish???

10. Venli

Venli: I wish for your freedom. Genie: ... Genie: As your first wish? Venli: Yup. Genie: Not as, like, your third wish after you obtain two other wishes? Venli: Nah. Genie: W-Who are you?? Venli: I'm a Willshaper, baby. Tumi: [hums contentedly]

[bizzytriumph]

There’s a lot to unpack about Hector and King’s designs and how both their god and mortal forms contrast and parallel eachother but I do think the usage of their glasses is the most interesting to me personally.

In my opinion, Hector’s most defining trait are his great big glasses. They’re huge and colored and nearly take up his entire face. He’s got that signature dot eyed glasses look going on so they’re practically his eyes (it also makes him look even more like Anthy…)

In contrast, Inspekta lacks glasses completely. He’s got big, shiny and adorable eyes. I think that this serves as a symbol (only clear to those who have finished the game) that his worldview and perception of himself and godhood is very, very flawed. He literally doesn’t have his glasses. He can’t see the world clearly.

King, on the other hand, has sunglasses! They’re similarly big and cover a good portion of her face. However, the presentation of her glasses is the opposite to Inspekta’s lack thereof. It’s the *only* thing we can really discern from her face until we meet her ingame. Maybe to portray that she can, unlike Hector, see the world clearly and isn’t the villain? When we do finally meet King, we CAN see her eyes proper under her sunglasses!

However, her god form actually has that signature sunglasses look her posters and props have! We’re back to how she initially looked but with added eyes and lips under her face and next to the hat- likely to symbolize her perception and eloquence.

Yugo states in the art book her god form holds this appearance since the Grove already idolized her, but I think it also goes to show how her presence -even as a strawman for Inspekta’s plan- did alter the circumstances of the game, like when we use Razz’s imitation of her voice to help Mitternacht, the bizzyboy fight in Buzzhuzz, and her real words to help Hector at the end of the game. Also it makes her look pretty handsome

[ailelie]

So much of the meta (and a lot of fic) written while JKR was publishing engaged in this kind of discourse. For example, while I studied Orientalism in college, I first learned about it from an essay about the Weasleys. I resolved before the final book ever came out that I was never buying the HP books for my niephs because I knew they wouldn't have the same community to read alongside and process with.

The books are full of poorly thought out worldbuilding and problematic elements, but that made them interesting to discuss and fix. In some ways, they were a great testing ground. But back then, I thought JKR was just a clueless author.

Then she got on Twitter. At first her posts were just adding lore, but nearly every addition was bad or a complicated nice to know. And then she got actively harmful.

Like, you could previously have discussions that were basically is JKR actually a fill-in-the-blank-ist, or is she just evidence of a pervading -ist culture and an example of what happens when one doesn't reflect or think through tropes and biases? Which led nicely into the discussion of the assumptions underlying tropes and stereotypes and whether or not we personally are perpetuating -ist ideologies thanks to a lack of examination and reflection.

Back then it felt like everyone had read the Harry Potter books. The community was huge and active. That meant that not only did we have a vast array of viewpoints, but we also all had the same shared ground for discussion. Everyone knew the canon and so had a shared understanding. That's the first step of a complicated conversation out of the way. Since we didn't have to establish baseline knowledge, we could move directly into the trickier subjects.

It wasn't all highbrow of course. But I genuinely don't remember if I knew about the Barnum Effect before or after engaging in Sorting Hat discourse. I definitely know that much of my first exposure to anti-racist ideas and basic resources like Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack were from the HP community. (Should I have found them on my own? Maybe, but that would have required knowing they existed and knowing to look. I cannot change where or how I grew up).

Death of the Author-style discourse with the HP books built a vibrant community of people who discussed casual racism, white privilege, classism, basic human psychology, antisemitism, story structure, homophobia, and more alongside arguments over whether Harmony or the Good Ship was endgame. (And that's not even getting into the meta based on fics).

I do miss that community. Of course I do. But I know now that JKR wasn't a clueless product of her environment. She is a malignant perpetuator of harmful ideas and policies. That changes everything.

[liberty-barnes]

to the girls made of glass

Arthur Leclerc x Female!Reader

Part 2 to you will not always want to shatter

Summary: The next day. (In hindsight, he doesn't know why he told his family anything) 

Warnings: mostly fluff but also this turned out sadder than i expected it to? but happy ending dw, lorenzo has eldest child syndrome, mentions of masculinity and its expectations in our patriarchal world, mentions of the media being dicks (specifically about a child being born out of wedlock)

Word Count: 2.5k words + however many are in the texts

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: i don't know how but i ended up making a part two so. enjoy, i suppose! don't forget to add yourself to my taglist if you wanna be notified in the future <3

the purse mentioned in this fic is the Multitaker Bag in Blush by Poppy and Peonies aka my dream bag (and the essentials is indeed all of my essentials...might have a problem)

Title from Shelby Leigh's book girl made of glass

Masterlists | Formula One RI Masterlist | Taglist

Arthur took a deep breath, shaking his hands at his side, trying to shake off his nervousness as well. 

07:58.

He rang the doorbell.

There was some shuffling on the other side of the door before it opened and he was face to face with her again.

(Y/n).

“Hi, love, come on in, I’ve just gotta get my purse, which is… somewhere, surely.”

Embarrassingly, he was frozen in place. 

“Arthur?”

“You look really pretty.”

He could feel his cheeks heat up as soon as those words made it out of his mouth. That was supposed to be an inside thought. Was it too much to ask for the ground to swallow him whole?

She smiled at him, eyes going all soft and shiny and… wow. Just wow.

“You’re cute.”

She grabbed the front of his sweater and dragged him inside. He really should try to care more about her manhandling him. Surely, normal people would feel disgruntled by it, right?

Meh, who cares? Not him.

A loud skidding sound made him snap his head to the ground, right before Circe collided with his shins.

“Oh, hello there.”

She made a sound which he could only described as an impatient scream, rubbing herself all over every part of him she could reach, stretching her paws as high as they could go. He crouched down to pet her, although frankly, it felt a lot more like she was the one headbutting his hand hard enough that he feared there would be bruises.

“Yeah, fun fact, she’s actually an absolute menace and she missed you a lot. She tends to scream if we don’t immediately give her attention.”

He frowned.

“But she was so calm yesterday.”

(Y/n) only cackled loudly, clipping on her earrings. 

“Yeah, cause she was on her absolute best behaviour until she was sure you were infatuated with her. That’s gone out the window now, I’m afraid.”

She looked around her, huffing loudly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, where did I put that damned purse? I swear my things always decide to disappear the moment I need them.”

Arthur looked up from Circe’s very soft fur to where (Y/n) was standing right in front of him, hands on her hips.

Huh. Nice view.

Shut up, Arthur.

“What does it look like? I’ll help you find it.”

“It’s a blush pink bag from Poppy and Peonies, it’s got black edges, and creases on the sides from the amount of times I’ve managed to overload it.”

He nodded and got up, moving along with her while looking for the bag. There was a bag on her kitchen counter. Pink. black edges. Creases on the sides. “Um, is this… is this the bag?”

He pointed at it, and (Y/n) looked up from her spot near the couch in the living room.

“Yes! You found it! Thank you so much, angel, can you bring it to me?”

He lifted it up, surprised at the weight of it. She walked over and took it from him effortlessly.

“Um… Are you sure you’re gonna need all that?”

She nodded, putting on her shoes.

“Of course, it’s only the essentials.”

He blinked at her. His essentials were his phone, wallet, and keys. Those fit in his pockets.

“Essentials?”

“Yeah, you know. Phone, keys, wallet–”

Okay, so, much the same.

“A small first aid kit, small water bottle, chapstick–”

That was understandable.

“Phone charger, a bag of period essentials, pen, tiny notepad, chewing gum–”

Right, it was starting to sound like a bit much for a trip to the bakery.

“Makeup wipes, tissues, hard candies for if my sugar drops, a pill organiser with all the tablets needed in case of an emergency, headphones–”

She was still going?

“Sunglasses, mirror, portable toothbrush and paste, tiny makeup bag with my essentials, mini deodorant, mini perfume, mini hand lotion, mini sunscreen–”

Arthur didn’t even know so many miniatures existed.

“Nail file, fidget toy, and a Swiss army knife. The essentials.”

Arthur thought back to his mother and the giant purse she carried everywhere. And how Charlotte and Alexandra always had an extra ‘big’ purse that they left in the car when going out in addition to their ‘small’ purse that they took outside with them. Wisely, he decided it was best not to comment.

“Makes sense.”

The smile he got in return was definitely worth his silence.

“Alright, let’s go then.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the flat, leaving a disgruntled Circe behind.

He couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but smile about it.

—

The bakery was really nice. (Y/n) ordered a hot chocolate, despite the weather being nowhere near cold enough to warrant it. They sat outside, on a little two-person couch, facing the water.

It was nice. Peaceful. Comfortable.

He brought the cappuccino he ordered to his mouth.

“So, what did you tell your family about me?”

His guardian angel must have been watching over him because he narrowly avoided choking on his sip of coffee.

He looked at her, wide-eyed.

“How did you know I told my family about you?”

She smirked mischievously and he felt a chill go down his spine.

“I didn’t.”

He blinked at her.

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I expected you to. So, what did they say?”

She ‘expected him to’? 

Maybe his mom and sisters-in-law were right when they said she knew how pathetic he was.

“Well, Lorenzo’s convinced you’re secretly an axe murderer.”

She laughed loudly, eyes crinkling shut.

“Fortunately, he’s alone in that thought. Everyone else was just happy I met someone…”

He hesitated, deciding to keep the rest to himself, but something must have shown on his face because she suddenly turned to him.

“There’s something else.”

He avoided her eyes.

“Come on then, out with it. There’s nothing you can say that I’ll take offence to.”

“Well, um… They just said that uh… They kinda… forgot? That your dad had an older daughter. Since you didn’t go to races a lot, but your siblings showed up every now and then when Kimi was still racing.”

It felt awkward to say. Uncomfortable. But she surprised him yet again by not appearing the slightest bit offended, only smiling in a bittersweet way.

“Yeah. Dad learned early on that it was safer for me to stay out of the public eye. I went to races almost all the time, actually, people just never saw me cause I stayed out of the way.”

“But your siblings–”

“Were born of a happy, loving marriage. Whenever they’re mentioned, the media just focuses on how well-raised they are, and how sweet it is to see them support their father. As for me… It didn’t quite work the same way. Whenever people were reminded of my existence, they just wanted to see how bad of a fuck-up Kimi Räikkönen’s bastard daughter would grow up to be. Dad didn’t want people talking about me that way, so he made sure they never talked about me at all.”

She stared out at the horizon, only a small hint of sadness present in her voice.

“That must have been hard.”

She pursed her lips.

“It was, at first. It took me a while to understand why I couldn’t be in the garage with everyone else, watching the race, hugging him for good luck before he went out. But the older I got, the more I came to appreciate it. Even though he couldn’t show it to the world, I never doubted that Dad loved me. I didn’t get to be my father’s daughter in the way my siblings do, but I got to be myself in a way they likely never will. I got to grow up without cameras in my face, without people gasping whenever they heard my name. I could go out with my friends and make mistakes without fear of the consequences. I got to choose what I wanted to do with my life without the general public’s opinions clouding my judgment. That’s a luxury people like me don’t often get.”

He couldn’t help but imagine a little (Y/n) in the Ferrari garage, wanting to wish her Dad good luck but being unable to because of the cameras around.

“You’re very strong, you know? I don’t know if I could be as understanding about it if I’d been in your shoes.”

She shrugged.

“It is what it is. No point in crying about it.”

She looked back at him with an easy smile on her face.

“What about now, though? Do you still have to hide?”

She tilted her head to the side.

“I mean, I don’t have to, I just don’t have a reason to change. The media would probably focus on all the wrong things in my life, only thing they’d care about is that I don’t have a job that makes money.”

“How so?”

“I got a Bachelor’s in business and comp sci, but I never wanted to just work for a greedy capitalistic company. It’s just not me. I’m lucky that my dad has more than enough money to provide for our family for generations to come, so I wanted to give back, in a way. I work as a web manager for a few charities around the globe, all non-profit, and do a ton of volunteering in my free time. But that means that my only source of income is my trust fund and the money my dad sends me.”

He looked at her with barely concealed awe in his eyes.

“(Y/n), fuck… That’s amazing, that you’re doing all this.”

She shrugged.

“I like it. And Dad supports me wholeheartedly. But if the media knew–”

“They would just paint you as another spoiled nepo baby who refuses to get a job.”

“Exactly.”

He felt–

Honestly, he couldn’t fully describe what he felt. Anger. Sadness. Righteous fury. The sudden and overwhelming urge to wrap himself around her like an octopus and shield her from the media’s eyes.

“Are you done with your drink and food?”

He blinked at her.

“Um… Yes?”

She smiled mischievously again, like the previous conversation had never happened.

“Good. Because we have reservations in thirty minutes.”

“Wait, what?”

“What is this place?”

He looked around in wonder. Everything was so colourful, so big. He could practically feel his body buzzing with energy.

“Trampoline park. Usually it’s full of people, but on a Tuesday at half nine in the morning? I’d be surprised if we weren’t the only ones here.”

She walked over to the reception desk, leaving Arthur to look around in wonder. There was a foam pit, rope ladders, and was that a climbing wall?

“Come on, pretty boy, leave your stuff in the locker and take off your shoes, time to have some fun.”

He felt his cheeks heat up at the nickname. He practically tripped over himself to get ready.

“Off we go.”

She took his hand and started to run in the direction of the trampolines.

He looked at the smile on her face and had the sudden thought that, so as long as she kept smiling at him like that, he’d follow her to hell and back.

—-—

Arthur was asleep on her couch. After two hours spent at the trampoline park and a hearty meal of lasagna and steamed broccoli, he seemed to have fallen into a coma, head pillowed on her thighs and arms hugging Circe to his chest.

She ran her fingers through his scalp absentmindedly. She’d changed the channel as soon as he’d fallen asleep, continuing her rewatch of Bones. There was no work to be done today, so she could afford to relax.

Her eyes were starting to get heavy when her phone beeped with a notification.

By the time she put the phone down and looked back at Arthur, he was awake and staring at her with sleep-filled eyes.

“Hey, baby boy. How you feeling?”

He hummed, nuzzling into her hand.

“Still tired?”

He nodded, eyes fluttering close when she hit a spot on his scalp that practically made him purr.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

His voice sounded hoarse from sleep, but oh so adorable.

“Yeah, love?”

“Why do you do that?”

She furrowed her brows.

“Do what?”

It seemed to take an eternity for him to voice out what he was thinking.

“The nice things. You made me food, and paid for our breakfast, and you drove and opened the door for me. Why?”

She shrugged minutely.

“I don’t know. I guess I just enjoy taking care of you. Do you not like it?”

“No, I do!”

He looked like he was afraid she’d stop if he didn’t get the words out fast enough. To be honest, it was quite sweet.

“It feels nice…”

She traced the blush on his cheeks with the pads of her fingers, feeling her carefully guarded heart want to burst out of her chest and hand itself over to Arthur.

“Well, good. You deserve to be taken care of.”

He kept looking at her while she gently ran her fingers all over his face, feather-light, tracing constellations in the barely-there freckles.

“I wanna date you. But I don’t think we should.”

She fought against her every instinct to bristle and lash out. It felt awfully familiar to be told she “shouldn’t” date someone. But what was it this time? Was it the money? The fame? The media?

Or was one day enough for Arthur to realise she was simply not good enough? 

That no matter how hard she tried, she was still nothing more than a bastard child, abandoned by her mother, abandoned by the world, never deserving of anything more than she was already lucky enough to have?

“If you date me you’ll be back in the public eye. People are gonna take pictures of us everywhere. And they’ll tear you apart just for being with me. But you’ve worked too hard to create a safe life. I’m not worth you giving that up.”

She locked eyes with him.

“You should not be trusted to make decisions if you’re gonna be self-deprecating about them.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” she ran her thumbs under the dark circles that still stained his eyes. “But shouldn’t that be my choice to make?”

“You’re too good for me anyway.”

She laughed ruefully, heart starting to beat a bit faster.

“Many people would disagree.”

“Many people would be wrong.”

“I disagree.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

He said it with such conviction, such absolute certainty, like he was shattering years upon years of her feelings of inadequacy.

“Where did you even come from?”

He blinked innocently up at her.

“My mother’s vagina.”

She pushed him off the couch.

translations for the finnish (which i got off google so pls forgive any mistakes)

I love you, dad

I love you too, snowflake

tadaaa! hope you guys enjoyed that! before you ask, no, i do not have any plans to make a part 3 to this for two reasons: first is because idk what i would write, and second is because the quote that these fics were named after (to the girls made of glass / you will not always want to shatter) was a two-part one and i don't know what i'd name the third. so it will stay as a duology.

Don't forgot to comment and reblog, asks and DMs are always open!

-Love, Miah <3

For the people that wanted part 2:

@aykxz98 @camelliaflow3r @sarah-thatstings-ann @sinofwriting @mountainshuman

[compress1repress]

why didn't you stop me?

art donaldson x patrick zweig (sfw, 1.8k words)

---

After Art's grandma had died he got sent a box of his stuff that had been left there. It wasn't much, some old books, a few toy cars from when he was really young, a pair of pyjamas that wouldn't fit how broad his shoulders are now.

Then there was his stuff from the academy, a lot of it. His grandmother lived closer to MRTA than his parents did so he often stayed there for the shorter breaks. It was mostly just school books and random scraps of paper. He found it sweet that his grandma has bothered keeping it.

He knew looking through it would be hard, that it would make him think about you-know-who, but he wasn't prepared for the way he was there, all over everything.

Art thought it would be safe to look through one of his old chemistry books but there on almost every page were these obnoxious doodles. So many cartoon dicks, some of them actually so obscene it was sort of impressive. He smiled despite himself.

Patrick.

They used to do this in every lesson, Patrick would always start it, where he'd scribble on Art's book so that he'd retaliate and they'd end up with pages covered in stupid drawings. The teachers would try to split them up but Patrick would just get worse, trying to throw pencils at Art's head to get his attention.

Art thinks he'd act out even more when they were separated so the teachers would be forced to let them sit together.

Patrick had a way of getting what he wanted. Of pushing things and never shutting up. Like when Art would say he couldn't go drink stolen beers in one of the guy's dorm rooms because he had homework to do. And Patrick would tease him, prod him and push him until he was convinced.

He knew that Art did want to go, he just had to pretend like he didn't. Then the next day he could blame Patrick for how rushed his homework was, and Patrick would just smile knowing that Art wasn't actually mad.

Because Patrick never let Art tell him what to do. He never did what he was supposed to. He never listened to Art. Until he did.

Until Art told him to fuck off. And Patrick did.

Art expected Patrick to come back the next day like nothing happened. A week later. A month. But no, he well and truly fucked off.

Patrick had texted a bit, and tried to call, but he got the idea when all Art's responses were dry and he didn't pick up the phone.

How was Art supposed to know that Patrick would actually do what he was told for once?

That he wouldn't just come back, tell Art he was being a fucking idiot, fight him on it. Art would get all serious and tell Patrick to leave him alone but he'd just keep teasing until Art couldn't help but smile.

Patrick was supposed to smooth it over, just paint it over like every other argument they had.

It was for the best. Patrick was an asshole, he reminds himself. He was smug and mean. He had a fucking ego and didn't care who he pissed off. Probably kept Art around to make himself look better. Because he enjoyed mocking him.

Because Art was the only one that could handle him.

Everyone else liked Patrick in short bursts but no way they could take sharing a dorm with him. Not like Art could. Art actually liked Patrick. Or he was patient, and enough of a pushover that their friendship worked. Yeah, that was it.

Art just kept him around because he was too pussy to get rid of him. Patrick kept him around because nobody else could stand him that long.

He wonders if Patrick has many friends now.

It doesn't matter. He doesn't care.

Patrick was always a fucking selfish jerk.

Rooting in the box deeper Art finds a sheet of paper and immediately recognises the hand writing. The messy uneven scrawl that he sometimes had to translate for teachers.

It's an A4 sheet of lined paper, with the same sentence copied on each line.

Art remembers what this is.

One time during practice, when he was fourteen, Art had been walking backwards to the baseline when he tripped on a rogue tennis ball, landing on his ass.

One guy, Alex, had yelled out, "maybe you should look where you're going, Art!"

It didn't even hurt that bad, but the shock of it and the way everyone laughed, including Patrick, got to him for some reason. His eyes welled up and he didn't even really cry, but it was enough that Alex had snorted.

"Jesus Christ, you don't have to be a fucking baby about it," he'd called out.

Art couldn't even respond because he was scared that his voice would shake if he did. He remembers looking up at Patrick, helpless.

Next thing he knew, Patrick was launching a tennis ball at Alex, hitting him square in the back with a loud thud.

"Maybe you should look where you're going, Alex," Patrick had shrugged.

Before Alex could say anything, Patrick launched another tennis ball at him, this time Alex managed to duck out of the way but he let out a high pitched yelp.

"At least Art doesn't scream like a girl," Patrick laughed.

Then their coach was yelling, "Zweig, over here, now!"

Patrick had been given a detention, sent to a classroom to write three pages of lines.

I must not hit people with tennis balls.

I must not hit people with tennis BALLS.

I must not hit people with tennis balls.

Over and over again. Occasionally the word 'balls' was in all caps, which he guesses was Patrick's small way of rebelling. Another was the fact that he'd managed to sneak this one sheet of paper out. That's why Art even had it, why he was able to keep it.

After the last line Patrick had put in brackets (even if they deserve it). At the bottom of the page he had signed it, like an autograph, with a smiley face and simple message: no regrets!

Art had tucked it into his English book for safekeeping, a reminder of his friend standing up for him.

It's nothing. It's stupid. Patrick was always looking for excuses to get in trouble, it was hardly an act of love friendship.

If he thinks hard enough he could probably come up with an entire list of incidents like that.

He doesn't think about it.

In his head when he thinks about Patrick, he always imagines his arrogant face. The smirk he would get whenever he beat Art, at tennis or with girls. He imagines Patrick's stupid grin when he was telling Art that him and Tashi had fucked.

Patrick was a piece of shit, with a smug piece of shit face to match.

The last thing he sees in the box is a small white square, it takes a moment to realise it's a Polaroid. His grandma had one of those cameras for a while, until it broke. He feels scared to flip the picture over.

When he does he almost drops it. He can vaguely remember it being taken, his grandma standing there, calling out 'cheese!' from behind the camera.

It was them on her sofa, both under the same blanket, one that his grandma had knitted. They must've been thirteen or fourteen there. His grandma has labelled the picture at the bottom: Artie & Patrick.

Patrick had his arm slung around Art's shoulder, his head tilted to lean into Art properly. Patrick was smiling big, and Art could tell it was sincere. Art himself looked a little embarrassed, slightly pink in the face, but he was smiling all the same.

She had kept the photo proudly on her fridge for a while, and Art had liked it. Then he got to fifteen and everyone at the academy was in a phase where everything was 'so gay'.

Your shoes are so gay! Your hair is so gay! Your backhand is so gay!

And when Patrick would sling his arm around Art's shoulder like in that picture: Patrick is so gay!

The phase didn't last long, and Patrick was always so unbothered by it that the insult wasn't thrown their way that often, because it was no fun if Patrick just laughed along with them. Art would always shrink at the name calling but Patrick just laughed loud enough for the both of them.

Still, he remembers telling his grandma to get rid of the photo. He's glad she didn't. He's also struggling to breathe.

He keeps playing Patrick's arrogant smirk in his head. Yeah. That's the real Patrick. Of course he looks all innocent in this photo, he's a child there.

Then he sees another Polaroid, stuck to the side of the box so that he almost missed it.

He wishes he hadn't realised it was there.

He'd never seen this one before, didn't even know it was taken. Wouldn't know when if his grandma hadn't dated it at the bottom. July 2006. Less than a year before the last time he'd seen Patrick in person.

He hadn't known it was taken because he was asleep. They both were.

It was him and Patrick in the double bed in his grandma's guest room, the one they'd always share when they stayed over.

The picture is mostly of Patrick, with Art only barely visible, mostly just by his mop of blond curls.

Art's hand starts to shake.

Patrick's laid on his side, legs half stuck out of the duvet and his head smushed against the pillow in deep sleep. His face completely relaxed, mouth slightly agape.

He looks small here somehow. Even though he's eighteen.

He looks sweet.

Not like a smug piece of shit at all.

A million images of Patrick sleeping fill his brain.

He looks between the two photos. He reaches his finger to trace each picture lightly, then he rubs at them hard. As though it will reveal the real pictures underneath. The ones where Patrick is actually sneering at him, puffing his chest out and laughing at how much better he is than Art.

Nothing happens. The pictures remaining sweet and innocent.

Then the memory that Art has been trying to push away. Patrick's face after he told him to fuck off. The way it had collapsed. The way Art felt if he listened hard enough he would physically hear Patrick's heart break.

He shakes his head trying to get it out.

Patrick was never sweet.

(He was.)

Patrick never listened to Art.

(He did.)

Patrick never actually cared about anything, especially not him.

(He did. He did. He did.)

Art can't fucking stand it. He flips the photos over so they're just white squares again, shoving them back in the box. But he can't bare to throw the box away so he just shoves it into the back of one of his and Tashi's closets.

He tries to picture those photos as blank white squares instead, rewriting the memory as if painting over any evidence. Getting rid of any proof of this version of Patrick.

Instead he thinks about the Patrick in his head, the one that makes his blood boil. Yeah, that's better. Angry. He can do angry.

He hates Patrick. Hates him for many reasons.

Mostly hated that he actually listened to Art for once. That he didn't stop him.

Sometimes he gets face to face with Patrick in his dreams, ready to yell and let him have it, but all that spills out is: Why didn't you stop me?

[trashfr0g]

Have any headcanons about the Tourney team boys?

Herkie.

Aziz.

Ben.

Chad.

Jay.

Carlos.

Failed Tourney Team Member:

Bash.

I love talking about the lesser known characters.

YES I DO THANK YOU FOR ASKING I had a mini phase where I really wanted to see more of the tourney squad interactions - I even drew some comics!

Granted these are a BIT outdated (I have different number HCS for the boys too since I thought Carlos being 101 for the dalmatians was too cute!)

From left to right they're Herkie, Aziz, Jay, Chad, Ben, Taylor (son of Tarzan) on the floor, and Carlos waaaaay in the corner lol.

Now to get to the real meat! I'll keep it under the cut for dash clutter lol

First thangs first! The guy who made it into the pic despite not having speaking lines or book presence.

Taylor

- Son of Tarzan and Jane Porter, like I mentioned before, but he always introduces himself as the son of Jane (and grandson of Archimedes Q. Porter) because he genuinely believes that she's the famous parent. She's the one with a degree and book and college presentations after all! He gets seriously confused when people have no idea who he's talking about and laughs when they recognize Tarzan's name over hers. No matter how many times people tell him Tarzan's his actual famous parent he thinks it's a joke.

- He speaks the animal language, like his father. It gets him a few Disney Princess jokes from the rest of his teammates but it's all lighthearted! He's also really good at mimicking sounds like Tarzan. If Coach Jenkins ever loses his whistle he just has Taylor mimic the sound lol

- because he usually talks to animals he never realized that Dude started speaking English LMAO

- he has a sister named Janice who is EXTREMELY tech savvy and is basically the 'you don't UNDERSTAND ME' teen archetype who butts heads with her environmentalist hippie family. They both have 'K' as their middle name initial, Taylor's is for Kerchak and Janice's is for Kala.

- he won't put on a shirt unless absolutely necessary. He hates clothes in general but he keeps his pants on for everyone else's sake. His jersey number is 24 in reference to the original 24 books in Tarzan's series!

Herkie

- son of Hercules and Megara, of course. He's got the superstrength of his dad and the weak ankles of his mother 💔 his real name is Herakles, because that's less personally offensive to me and the nickname still works!

- he's not as witty as Megara but he has her sass in SPIRIT. He can pull a face and pose that conveys sarcasm better than any wisecrack could and it makes people remark that he's a lot like her, even though he doesn't have the vocab to back it up

- Phil is banned from Auradon Prep because of him. He would keep showing up at Herkie's games to heckle and ended up hurting a lot of fragile teen boy egos.

- he's got his own Pegasus named Peggy-Sue. Yes it's horrific, yes I think it's too descendants-core for me to change my mind about it. He and Aziz like to compete in flying races, horse vs carpet, and have exactly zero concepts of 'fear of heights' or 'motion sickness' between them.

- he and the rest of the Olympians figured out that Hades was Mal's father before she even knew he was her father. They just thought it was common knowledge, her outbursts and fake personas were too Hades-like for them NOT to connect the dots. Because of this personal villain connection he was one of the AKs that took a little longer to warm up to the VKs, but nobody else could figure out where his attitude was coming from lol

- his jersey number is 12, for the 12 Olympian gods and for the original Herakles' 12 tasks

Aziz

- son of JALADDIN *Lego spin* and one of the most easygoing guys on the team

- in my heart of hearts Jay ends up getting adopted by Jasmine and Aladdin so Aziz ends up as his adoptive brother

- Jordan is his absolute bestie and their ringtones for each other are Friend Like Me

- he LOVESSSSS stargazing! He's part of the astronomy club at AP but his favorite way to look at stars is to drag Carpet up as high as it'll go at night and just lay back in it. Herkie, as the only one with a height tolerance like his, likes to join him sometimes to see Hercules's constellation up close!

- he is EXTREMELY organized but not in, like, a purposeful way. Aladdin and Abu like to play little pranks on him and 'steal' his things without telling him (just to not lose their street rat edge) so he'd never know if he genuinely lost or forgot something or if his dad and monkey were messing with him. He now keeps a really detailed mental list of his stuff so if something's gone he knows they were behind it. This also meant that when Jay showed up at AP he was the first to notice that someone was snatching their things lol

- his jersey number is 40, for the 40 thieves

Tyrone

- son of Terpsichore from Hercules, the muse of dance! Like his mother and aunts he can travel through artwork, but usually stays away from it cuz he doesn't like the feeling of switching art styles lol

- he and Herkie are familiar with each other from growing up on Olympus together and also being the only dudes on the team to wear togas. It's STILL manly 💪😤

- in a meta sense, he's the one responsible for all the spontaneous dance numbers in Auradon working so well. His mom's the muse of dance so he always has the guys ready for when Ben wants to declare his love to random villain girls in song form after games

Li

- son of Chef Louis, and, since I hc him as being Best Bro from the School of Secrets web series, also Smee's great nephew! His mother is Smee's niece and she and Louis bonded over their sea-adjacent backgrounds. Mermaids stress them both out.

- He's always complaining that there's not enough Seafood in the cafeteria but Mrs. Potts won't hear it

- despite his parents' iffiness over sea creatures, he's good friends with Akio!

Akio

- son of Aquata, Ariel's nephew.

- too many of his cousins went to seaside academy so he decided to branch out! He always gets extra rough with training when he knows they're about to go up against the Mermen.

Emir

- son of Amal, Aladdin's ex-best friend from the Aladdin cartoon.

- After traveling the world on his journey of redemption, Amal settled near Auradon, so Emir has never been to Agrabah, much like Jay. He uses this as a point to relate to him when Jay admits knowing that it's where he's from, nationally, but not feeling particularly connected to it due to growing up on the Isle

- Emir and Aziz knew absolutely nothing about Aladdin and Amal's past but still ended up really close. It was due to their sons' closeness that Amal and Aladdin eventually discovered the connection and rekindled their friendship :)

William

- grandson of Wilhelmina Packard from Atlantis

- the other guys on the team try to bond with him but every second when he's off the field or out of class he's chatting loudly on the phone with his out-of-auradon buddies

- despite this, he's a really great team player and is super reliable! He does join their hangouts from time to time but is usually on the phone in the background yapping away (like his grandma lol)

Other Jersey number HCS

Jay - 03, for three genie wishes

Ben - 21, for the age his father was when the beast curse was lifted (/how old he would've been when the curse was sealed if Belle never showed up lol)

Chad - 00, midnight in military time but doubles as a laugh about his loserness

And that's all I got! The main guys are pretty fleshed out characters so I don't think they need my support haha. Thanks for the ask! This was really fun to do :D

[noctiva]

I’m back!! I’m super curious do you have a list of general Toby Headcanons posted anywhere or am I just entirely blind? Lmao I’m super curious what your HCs for the man are like.

- 🐼

you’re not blind!! I’ve been meaning to post a general hc list for AGESSSSS you just gave me to push to do it hehe here it is!

-

Toby Rogers - General Headcanons

CW for: mentions of violence, cannibalism, self-destructive tendencies

-

Visual/Appearance

Toby is a tall, lanky mf. Standing at about 6’1 but appears shorter because he’s got horrible posture.

The CEO of having a sleeper build tbh. He looks skinny, especially under all the layers of sweaters and jackets he likes to wear, but don’t let that fool you. He’s scary strong, with a mean right hook.

Mousy brown hair that’s long enough to cover his ears. Shaggy, choppy, and uneven because he cuts it himself.

Has a ton of freckles that show best when he’s gotten some sun

Crooked, chipped teeth from one too many blows to the face, with uncannily sharp canines.

Dark, dark brown eyes with even darker circles under them.

Wardrobe

The midwest emo type

Flannels, ripped baggy jeans, jackets with patches that he sewed on himself

Either wearing a beat up pair of sneakers or more sturdy hunting boots when he’s out on a mission

Wears a ton of layers (as mentioned before) because he always feels cold even if it’s warm outside

I’m talking like; a t-shirt, under a hoodie, with a flannel over top, topped with a big comfy jacket

Personality

Sarcastic motherfucker. Even in times that definitely don’t warrant it al all.

Pretty scarred mentally from being bullied ruthlessly as a kid, so he’s actually really closed off. Pretty reluctant to get close to or open up to people because he’s convinced he’ll just end up being the butt of the joke again.

HATES being around aggressive, violent men. Reminds him too much of his father, and he’ll genuinely just freeze up completely as a trauma response.

Same goes for people who drink. He can’t stand that shit either. (He will smoke weed though, but alcohol is a complete no go).

Absolute jokester once you actually do get him to open up. Pretty carefree and funny, despite it all.

Chronically bottles up his emotions. Would much rather just slap on a smile and push everything down than actually confront them. (Leads to pretty nasty breakdowns more often than not.)

Shit disturber. Will stir drama and start fights just because he’s bored.

Swears like a sailor.

General

Chronic nail biter and skin picker. It’s partially an oral fixation type thing so if it’s not his fingers in his mouth it’s a toothpick, or gum, or the drawstrings of his sweater orrrr…

…A cigarette. Because this man smokes like a chimney. Tim isn’t fully to blame for why he got into it, but he is the one Toby stole smokes from when he first got the urge to try it.

Now it’s a constant thing. Half a pack a day on a good day. He’s always got one tucked behind his ear, and he constantly reeks of the smell of it.

Has a ton of scarring from piercings he did on himself and then decided he hated a few months later. (The only ones he kept being a septum and a pair of snakebites, but he sucks at taking care of them so they’re infected like ALL the time)

He’s flip floppy like this in a lot of aspects of his life. Constantly hyperfixating on things just to decide he hates them a few weeks later.

Also does stick n’ poke tattoos on himself like all the time. Dumb little chicken scratch doodles on his arms and thighs.

Loves sour candy like CRAZY.

A huge nerd deep down. Used to collect comic books and figurines when he was a kid, but lost them all when his house burnt down. (If he breaks into someone’s house and finds some nowadays he’s stealing them. IMMEDIATELY. Especially if it’s anything X-Men.)

Speaking of stealing, he’s a klepto. If he wants it, he’s just gonna take it. And lord knows the proxies don’t get paid a living wage so it’s not like he’d be able to afford it anyway.

Big forager. Likes to look for animal bones and pretty rocks while out in the woods. Cleans them and decorates the shelves of his cabin with them. Also likes to carve things as well. Making knives out of sticks and bones. Little figures that he whittles to keep his hands busy.

Is fluent in German, and slips back into it when he’s really pissed or annoyed (or when… yk..). His mother spoke it a lot at home when he was growing up.

Has cannibalistic tendencies and pretty nasty intrusive thoughts. Almost always bites a chunk out of his victims before disposing of their body. Has a hard time not getting a taste of the living people he knows.

Chews on his own skin because of this, gnawing at his palms to satiate the craving for blood.

Pyromaniac (duh) always has a lighter or matches on him. Sets fires just for fun, and could sit and stare into the flames for hours on end.

He hates his tics :( It’s deep seated trauma from the kids at school and shit his dad used to say to him. To the point where he’s grown a habit of hitting himself whenever he does tic, like if he punishes himself for doing it, maybe one day his body will stop (it hasn’t)

Verbal and physical tics. Often mimicry of words and sounds he hears often (common ones include whistles that mimic bird calls)

Low-key a sadist. Because he can’t feel pain himself, watching people react to being in pain is morbidly fascinating to him. Really takes his time with his victims because of it.

Virgin teenage boy levels of hormones LMAOOO. The type to have a bikini model poster plastered on his bedroom wall.

Sucks at talking to girls irl though. Puts on a way too confident facade and makes a total fool of himself more often than not.

—————————————————————————☆

yaaaay! I’ve been meaning to post this for ages

let me know if you guys want relationship hcs too (sfw + nsfw)!

[sourcherrybites]

Till time breaks apart. (1 out of 2, probably)

Character: Dick Grayson x Tamaranian! Fem! reader

Submission by @mourakitana "Please do if you are Starfire's sister and you love Dick very much and he is her ex, (if on one of the missions Dick and y/n's son come from the future)"

Disclaimers: Sorry for the sloppy ending. I imagine Reader being black (like Kory). Sweariing. Probably two chapters cuz I want to explore this reader more. DICK IS ROMANI RAAAAGHHH!!!!!!! (This is not relevant to the story but yes)

a/n: Chapter one of legally binding affairs is almost done, babes. I post this, and maybe in one or two days I'll post the chapter one.

Word count: 1,179

Masterlist

You were never quite like your sisters (also not planned, ijbol). Of course, being the youngest meant you had traits of both of them. Komand'r had taught you her ambition and Koriand'r her curious nature, but there was also something really weird about you. You were just too quiet. You lived in your own world, unbothered by your older sisters' doings, but you still had some special spark.

But let's talk about your time on Earth, that's what matters, after all.

Earth was fascinating, in your eyes, those childish, big and curious eyes, the soft warmth of the sun, the fields of grass, the melodic sounds of the countryside your new earth friends sometimes took you and your sister to, the stupid romance movies you saw to which everyone fell asleep to halfway, but not you, you saw them from beginning to the last credit rolling in the big screen of the titans' tower... and you were also fascinated by the smiley dark-haired boy who your sister fell for, but human movies and books had told you humans only loved one person for all their life (you were so young that you just rolled with it, slowly losing the free nature of Tamaran to the human culture) so you weren't even in the picture in your head.

So you kept the smiley face, teased and laughed as Koriand'r told you about her 'boyfriend', never telling her how much you wanted to be in her place, because he was just a boy and Earth had a lot of boys, and Kory was your sister, and you loved each other more than either of you would love anyone else, your love for Dick would never overcome your love for your sister. But Kory knew, and it pained her so much to see her little sister suffer for something normal in their homeland to human taboos.

As your friends turned into adults, you slowly drifted away from the superhero lifestyle, focusing on your studies of human art and music, though you still helped the Titans from time to time. You explored your curiosity with the help of your outworld gaze and became a renowned historian half the time and a bar singer the other half, living away from the public spotlight.

It was during one of those friendly reunions, the ones in which you just talked about your lives and catched up, at Wally's place that it was brought up a weird ancient dungeon found on the outskirts of Central City by a construction group.

"That's your Major, right?" He had inquired. "Actually, it isn't; my major is in art., so I don't think I'd be of much help," You chuckled nervously, sipping on your drink.

"Out of all of us, you are the one who understands this the most, Sweetcheeks." Garfield ruffled your hair. "Touch me again and I'm burning off your hand." You raised your fist before letting out a soft laugh and looking at your sister, who had placed her warm hand on your shoulder, making you sigh. "But...I guess I can give it a look." You reluctantly gave in, making the team cheer and clap and earning you a playful nudge from Grayson, whom you had, in fact, not forgotten in all these years, not even after his breakup with Kory.

The next morning you had all gotten into a jeep and driven over the said location, a drive during which Dick had sat incredibly and uncomfortably close to you, and during which his hand seemed hesitant to touch yours, you hated it, in every single one of your partners.

Luckily, your Stanford ID came in handy to allow you and the crew in the cave once you arrived. It was a big space, with long, thick pillars made of dark stone and a big platform right at the end, pretty similar to every ritual room you had seen during your college years. It is left unsaid that you warned the group not to touch anything.

It wasn't Something you'd recognise, even when you pulled out your phone to check for similar constructions on your university's database you found absolutely nothing. The architecture and the engravings on the walls weren't Native American, not pre-hispanic, not even Nordic or anything that made sense in this specific zone!

"Any ideas in that big brain of yours?" Dick said from behind you, making you squeak and jump in surprise. "Don't- do that, Grayson." You huffed, making him chuckle as you attempted to focus back on the room ━That's when Garfield, ever so smart, shouted, 'Check this out!' While pointing at a weird artefact that looked spot on like an hourglass.

"Looks like an hourglass," Wally murmured.

"No fucking shit, Sherlock." You huffed as you bent over to look at it closely. It was made of pure stone, and the crystal looked pretty much clean, but the thing that caught your attention was not only the weird appearance of the sand, like small stardust that produced UV light just by existing.

"There's something written on the edges, but I don't know what it means..." you mumbled, looking back at the group, accidentally meeting Dick's eyes, the same pair of sapphire eyes that had haunted your life since the first time you saw them. "Sorry. As I said, my major is not in ancient caves." You smiled sheepishly before the sound of the stone turning snapped your head right back to the hourglass.

The scripture on the hourglass and the walls started glowing far too brightly, cycling through every colour under the visible spectrum. The hourglass started spinning, gaining speed with each passing second.

"Out. Out. Out, " Dick grabbed your wrist; the rest of the group followed and quickly began sprinting away from the cave as the time seemed to slow down. Why was he touching you? Why did he look so concerned? Why did your heart flutter and your stomach spin? And why did you hear a sound similar to an arrow's whistle approaching you?

And then there was pain... Like a stab on your heart.

It was hot... Like you were in a sauna for far too long

And then there was light... Flashes of scenes that seemed oddly familiar.

And then silence and quietness... Before you felt the familiar warmth of your sister's hands pressing down on your chest over and over, you turned your head slowly to look at the man next to you, his hand still tightly wrapped around your wrist and a young, black-haired teenage girl doing chest compressions on him as well until he coughed out and gasped to which the girl threw one of her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly and the other went to grab your arm.

Between the blurred sounds of the chaos and the paramedics rushing into the space, you managed to make out.

"I thought I had lost you and mom..."

Mom? Mom!? This was worse than any low-budget drama you had ever seen. You had a daughter with Dick Grayson! And the little shit looked just like her father.

©sourcherrybites 2025

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Lights, Camera, Colombia

💫  Chapter One 💫 

Summary: Ten years after he quit the DEA Javi gets approached by a production company, asking if he would like to be involved in the production of a documentary about Pablo Escobar and the drug war. When he agrees, he meets you, one of the producers of the documentary and the woman who he will spend the next months working with on the documentary and travel back to Colombia, the woman who will get to know about the side of him that he never wants anyone to see, the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Chapter Summary: Javi and you finally meet when you pick him up at the airport in Colombia and you get to know each other. And oh boy you just know the next couple of weeks are gonna be trouble....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 7.4k

Rating: T (for some flirting)

Warnings: angst, fluff, a look into Javi’s head, Javi's anxiety, food mentions, flirting so much flirting

A/N: I am so excited to finally get the first full chapter out! I tried to do as much research as possible but we all know this is fictional so just roll with it lol

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist // Lights, Camera, Colombia Masterlist

Flying was not something Javier particularly enjoyed. 

It wasn’t even the flying part about it, but all the rest. And most of it, the waiting. He hated to sit around and just do…. Nothing. Hell, he even brought a book with him that he attempted to read on the layover in Houston. Instead he went to the bar to have a beer.

He had been okay in the planing of this trip to Colombia. He had checked in with you, made a couple of suggestions, even though what you had planned out was already close to perfect. 

The two of you had talked quite a lot through email and through phone to get to know each other a little before spending so much time one on one. 

He knew a little about your family and that you had been working with TC production for a little over five years now. The last documentary you had worked on had won a couple of awards and after finding out about that Javier had asked you to send a copy of it to him so he could watch it. 

And you did. 

It was a documentary about how the drug war affected the whole of the United States.

And Javi had loved the way it was put together. He could only hope that this one would be just as good. 

He knew that you already had been in Colombia for the last couple of days to prepare. It was quite the schedule you worked out, but you always left enough time to relax for a day or two before moving on to the next location to shoot. 

Only last week you had gotten the confirmation that you’d be able to shoot in what was left of La Cathedral, which apparently had been bought by a benedictine order to be turned into an actual cathedral with time. And you’d also be going to Hacienda Napoles. Something he found himself excited about, since he didn’t have the chance to go there back then. 

Yet overall what he felt about going back to Colombia was anxiety. 

In the week leading up to his flight even his nightmares returned. He had to schedule an extra appointment with Margery and she taught him some breathing exercises to calm himself down. Sure, he could have taken anxiety meds, but there were better times to start looking into that then when he was about to leave the country for six weeks. 

And so he took those breathing exercises and a big glass of whiskey instead of anxiety meds. A combination that would hopefully get him over the next couple of weeks. 

His CIA contact had informed him that he indeed was still on some kill lists in Colombia. But he was told not to be too concerned, the cartels had other issues to figure out at the moment. That, and he was traveling under a wrong name. 

Also set up by his CIA contact. 

Maybe if he hadn’t been a mess back then (well… he is still kind of a mess) things with Heather, the CIA contact, could have worked out. She was pretty, super intelligent and had a killer smile. They had met shortly after he came back from Colombia and had to get to one last DEA hearing where she was sitting in. 

It was a short but intense fling they had. And thankfully they parted ways as friends which was why he could reach out to her for a favour like this. 

She also took care of the gun permit for the journey for both him and you. 

„Flight 405 to Bogota, Colombia is now ready for boarding. Please proceed to your gate“

He took a deep breath before he emptied his glass of beer. Closing his eyes he counted down from ten as he took some deep breaths, before he grabbed his backpack and walked out of the airport bar and towards his gate. 

He gave the flight attendant a small smile, her cheeks flushing as she handed him back his boarding pass before he proceeded down towards the plane, pleasantly surprised that he would fly first class. 

Not that he had much from it. 

He was asleep before the plane was even up in the air. 

Maybe the next time you were considering a new project it should be somewhere more up north. Like…. Canada or…. The north pole. 

You had been in Colombia for four days and even though people around you were telling you that this weather was completely normal and actually quite cold for the season, you were sweating like crazy from the moment you got out of bed. The humidity was not something you were used to or fond of. 

You were more of a rainy day under a blanket type of girl.

Though you could admit that there were worse ways to spend a sunset than on a hotel balcony facing the ocean with a glass of white wine while only wearing your underwear. 

You had spend the day meeting up with the film crew who would already be busy tomorrow with scenery footage and interviewing some of the locals while you would go to the airport to pick up Javier. He had told you he could rent a car but you had waved him off, telling him that you had to get used to driving in this city anyway. 

If you were honest with yourself, you were excited to meet him. 

You had talked quite a lot in the last weeks and you got to know him a little. He had opened up a little about how Colombia had changed him and that while part of him was looking forward to see how the country changed, there was also the lingering anxiety about what had went down there all those years ago. 

You were pretty sure that only a fraction of the things that happened while they were working in Colombia had been made available to the rest of the world and you hoped that you would learn a little more. Sure, there would be things he could not talk about but the journalist in you wanted to at least try to get something new out of him. 

And, of course, you knew that he was an attractive man. 

Even if he aged very poorly, which you don’t think he did, you did see the ID of his DEA badge and ID that he sent to you via mail, he would still be just your type. 

Something you hoped would not disturb your work. 

Then again, a little flirting never hurt nobody, right?

But you were going to far ahead. You hadn’t even met in person yet and here you were already flirting with him in your mind. 

You sighed, watching the sun disappear into the ocean. 

In four days you would take him to the old search bloc building and after that to one of the drug labs that he had taken down that was now a restaurant. 

You had high hopes for the next weeks and you were excited to start working. 

His plane had touched down almost 45 minutes ago and you were growing a little anxious. You hoped that there were no issues with him traveling under a cover name or with his gun. 

You were pleasantly surprised that the permits had been dealt with so quickly. 

Just as surprised as when you learned that he was still on four kill lists from new cartels that had formed in the wake of Escobars death and the downfall of the Cali cartel. 

You hadn’t told Javier yet that depending on how good this documentary did, you might get the chance to do one on the Cali cartel too. 

But that was not something you were concerning yourself about now. 

There would be a time for that in the future. 

Now, you were excited and a little anxious  as you waited for Javier to walk out of baggage claim. 

And you didn’t have to wait for that much longer, the doors opening and there he was in the flesh. 

Carrying a big brown suitcase in his left hand, his eyes hidden behind some dark sunglasses as he walked out. Since he didn’t know what you looked like, it gave you some time to take him in. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome and if you thought yesterday that he could become a problem, you were now downright fucked. 

There was the hint of grey in his otherwise dark brown temples, his moustache trimmed to perfection. Dark, full brown hair that looked perfectly messy, as if he walked right out of a photoshoot. His pants were tight, his baby blue dress shirt, the first couple buttons open and revelling his chest, tucked into his jeans, a leather jacket covering his broad shoulders. 

If he was only half as a flirt now as he was back when he was working here, things were going to be interesting in the next couple weeks. He came to a stop, taking his glasses of and let his gaze wander through the crowd, most likely trying to find you. 

You took a deep breath, suddenly not the humidity being at fault for making you sweaty. 

„Javier?“ You asked as you walked towards him, his head turning as he heard you, a small smile sneaking to his lips as he said your name. 

„Yeah, that’s me,“ you couldn’t help but grin, stopping when you were in front of him, holding your hand out for him to shake. 

He took it, his hand enveloping yours completely as he shook it and you gulped. 

„It’s so nice to finally meet you in person,“ you said.

Going through security was surprisingly easy considering he was traveling under a false name. They checked the documents, asked what he was doing here and how long he would be staying and if he had a ticket for his return flight. 

The long part was waiting for his suitcase. It gave him time to get to the restroom to pee and then throw some cold water into his face after he looked at himself in the mirror. 

He really was back in Colombia. 

Giving himself twenty seconds to freak out about it, he threw another hand of cold water into his face before he used a shitty paper towel to dry himself up. Walking out to the baggage carousel the suitcases were finally getting thrown out, yet it took another ten minutes for his to make an appearance. 

With his backpack over his shoulder and his suitcase in his hand he finally made his way out onto Colombian ground. The airport looked a little different from how it did the last time he was here. 

Apparently Starbucks had also finally made its way to Colombia. Something he found quite weird with how good the local coffee was. 

He was still wondering about that, when he took his sunglasses off to let his gaze wander over the people who were waiting. He never saw a picture of you so he had no idea what you looked like. 

Yet for some reason pretty came to his mind when he thought of you. Even though he only knew your voice. 

He heard his name being called from his left side and he turned his head just in time to see a woman approach him. 

You. 

He said your name and you smiled and fuck if he thought you were pretty, actually seeing you with his own eyes and seeing how pretty you were? Well, fuck. 

He took your hand, shaking it once, seeing your smile light up your whole face. 

„It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!“ You said and he nodded. 

„Likewise,“ he said, cringing internally. Likewise? Really Javier?

„Was your flight okay? I had the worst turbulences on my way here. Almost kissed the ground when I made it out of the plane,“ you joked and he smiled. 

„I slept all the way through. I think the realisation that this was really happening caught up with me there,“ he said, nervously rubbing his hand over his neck. 

„I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling. Only reading about everything that happened and knowing that you were there for almost everything? Unbelievable,“ you said in awe and he was sure he was blushing. 

„Yeah. The last time I’ve been to this airport I had just been fired,“ he snorted and you huffed a laugh, starring at him. 

„Are you ready to get to the hotel?“ You asked him and he found himself nodding. 

„Follow me,“ you said and turned around and Javier found himself falling into step next to you as you led him out of the airport. 

„The car rental gave me a super tiny car but I am supposed to get a new one tomorrow. So…. I hope you fit into the seat,“ you joked and he found himself grinning. 

„I am sure I’ll make it,“ he said, winking at you as you looked up at him. 

He caught himself looking over his shoulder, seizing up every person around him, looking for a potential threat. He felt his hands getting sweaty and he reached for his sunglasses, putting them back on his nose while he took a calming breath. 

For the first time in a long time he felt the need for a cigarette.

The humidity outside was like running against a wall as they made it out of the airport building. You slowed your steps, noticing Javier was looking around, his sunglasses back on his nose. 

„It looks different,“ he said after a moment, looking back at you. 

„Yeah?“ You asked and he nodded.

„Also feels fucking different,“ he chuckled a little uneasy, trying to work through his anxiety. It had been a long time since he felt like this. You gave him a small smile, fighting down the urge to take his hand or touch him, feeling like you wanted to comfort him. 

„We’re almost there. I hope you like the hotel. It just opened this year,“ you said as you stepped inside the car park, leaving Javier to feel like he could finally take a breather, a lot less people now around him. 

„I’m sure it will be fine. As long as I get a bed and a beer I am happy,“ he said, adding „I think I underestimated how being back here would have me on edge.“

You stopped walking and looked at him.

„If at any point it gets to much, please tell me. I know you said you’d be fine, but being back here must be a lot for you. I’d never judge you if you ask for a break or even stopping this whole thing. I don’t want this documentary and being back here to be a reason that you end up hurt in any way, okay?�� You asked. 

He took a deep breath after he listened to you, exhaling with a sigh. 

„I’ll be fine,“ he said and you narrowed your eyes and he found himself smiling. 

„I’ll tell you if anything gets too much, I promise,“ he added and your eyes softened, before you nodded and turned away from him to continue to lead him to the rental car. 

And if Javier found himself checking out how great your ass looked in the jeans shorts you were wearing? Well he had to get the thoughts in his head to focus on something else than being back in Colombia now, right?

The drive towards the hotel was quiet. 

Javier was busy looking around and noticing all the changes in the city and you were busy, well, driving. 

It’s not like you can’t drive. But with living in New York City you don’t get to do it much and definitely not with being yelled at in a language you understand but never felt really confident to speak. 

Javier on the other hand was surprised how much he recognised as you drove. Then again he did spend many years driving these streets. There was something different though. There were a lot more people out on the street. No buildings were damaged from gun holes or explosions. 

It seemed…. Happier. Brighter. 

„The hotel is actually on the ground where the old embassy building was,“ he heard you say and was reminded that he wasn’t alone. He had completely zoned out. 

He looked at you, seeing how you were gripping the steering wheel tightly, muscle tensed. There was sweat running down your temples even though the A/C of the car was running on full speed. 

He got the impression that driving was not your most favourite and he made a mental note to ask and offer to drive himself later on. 

„They relocated the embassy?“ He asked and you nodded, changing the lane, blinker set to drive to the right. 

„They didn’t need a big building like that anymore and they wanted higher security, so they moved to a new build building around twenty minutes from here,“ you explained, releasing a sigh of relief as you finally saw the hotel right at the end of the street. 

Javi on the other hand was impressed by the big building in front of him that had no resemblance to the office building he had spend countless hours chasing after cartels and making numerous, oftentimes questionable decisions. 

The whole area around where he used to spend his everyday life for years was completely transformed, nothing reminding him of the familiarity he felt walking these streets everyday. The café he used to get his coffee from was gone, replaced by a flower shop. The little empanada shop he used to get 80% of his dinners from gone, the whole building transformed into what looked like apartments. 

There were big trees lining up the street. 

If Javier didn’t know that he had been driving this street daily for two years he would never think this was the same place. 

You drove around the hotel and down the street until the car stopped in front of the entrance. You turned of the engine and let your head fall back against the headrest, closing your eyes as you released a long breath. 

„Not the biggest fan of driving?“ Javier asked softly. You shook your head. 

„Not the biggest fan of driving,“ you said, before you looked at him with an exhausted smile. 

„I’m sure you want to freshen up and relax. I made a reservation at the hotel restaurant for later today so we can talk through some of the things I have planned for this week. But we only start the day after tomorrow, so… there’s no rush, okay?“ You said and he nodded at you. 

„Great,“ you nodded back before you took a deep breath and got out of the car. Javier did the same, walking towards the trunk to retrieve his suitcase and backpack. Before that though, he took his leather jacket off, the heat outside being really unbearable. 

Was this the climate change bullshit he had read about? He didn’t remember it being that fucking hot in this country apart from the time he was forced to spend time with Stechner in the jungle. 

You on the other hand schooled your face into what hoped look like expressionless once he was out of his jacket. It definitely wasn’t the jacket that made him broader, it was just… him. 

You turned towards the hotel and the valet who thankfully would park the car for you before Javier could catch you starring. You were still mezermermised by the foyer of the hotel, a chandelier that was bigger as the car that you had just driven hanging over the desk, hundreds of lightbulbs artfully arranged. 

You smiled at the woman behind the desk, having talked to her for a while the day before to get some recommendations for restaurants and bars in the closer area. You more felt that saw Javier as he followed you, a shiver running up your spine, the hairs on your neck standing up. 

It was like you could feel his eyes on you and you fought the urge to turn around to confirm it for yourself. 

In broken Spanish you asked for the keys to yours and Javier’s room and she gave them to you with a kind smile. Turning around you indeed caught Javier starring at you, sunglasses back in his chest pocket, eyes snapping up from what you were sure was your ass as he looked at you. 

„You got the room next to mine. Both are facing towards the ocean more or less,“ you said, handing him the key to his room and he nodded. 

The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet one, both of you in your thoughts, the ding of the elevator arriving making you jump. You glanced up at him, finding him already looking at him before he stepped out and walked down the floor, you following him. 

„I made the reservation for 7pm, is that okay?“ You asked. 

„Perfect. I hope they got some good tamales. Otherwise we have to check if the place Steve and I used to get ours is still there in the next days,“ he said and you smiled a little, nodding. 

„I would love that,“ you said, stopping front of your room. 

„I’ll see you later?“ You asked, Javier nodded. 

„If you need anything, just call or knock. I’ll be researching for another project, so I’ll be awake,“ you said, opening your hotel door and looking at him. 

He just nodded again, giving you a small smile as he walked past your room and towards his own. You took a step inside, letting your head rest against the door as you heard a click when his door closed. 

Yeah. 

You were in trouble now. 

Even though he had slept through the flight, the moment he got out of the shower in his hotel room he fell asleep again. And surprisingly he hadn’t dreamed of anything. It was just a blissful two hour long nap he woke up from once he got cold, having fallen asleep with just a towel around his hips. 

With a groan he turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

If he felt anxiety about being here when he first got here this morning, his feelings now where…. Different. He just didn’t know how exactly yet. 

Then again he didn’t know how he felt most days. Now only the added confusion about being back in a place that plagued his nightmares came on top of it. 

And then there was you. 

When he talked to you on the phone leading up to this stay in Colombia he felt himself more and more looking forward to talking to you. The phone calls to you being the highlight of his day. He found himself thinking about what you were doing through certain times in the day and he questioned if he could be attracted to someone he had never met before. 

But then today you had met and fuck if Javier thought he was in trouble on the phone with you, right now, knowing you were just on the other side of the wall of his hotel room was a whole different story. 

You were beautiful. 

In every single way possible and he had only spend an hour with you. Part of him was scared to find out what would happened once you spend every single day with each other, but there was also a part of him, a part he forgot existed, that was excited. 

Excited to get to experience this new version of Colombia with you. 

Excited to get to know you.

He took a look at the clock on his bedside table, realising it was later than he thought. And maybe he spent a little more time getting ready, before he made his way towards your room to pick you up for dinner. 

You on the other hand did everything but research the project you had planned. Almost immediately after you took your shower you had called your friend in the states who knew about the documentary and about how much you already had started to like Javier during your phone calls. 

But now?

Holy crap this would either be a very long and exhausting six weeks or this would be the best six weeks of your life. And you needed to let all these thoughts out before you were going out with Javier to dinner. 

No. Not going out. 

This was just a work dinner. 

A meeting. 

Going out sounded too much like a date, which it definitely wasn’t. 

Which is why you did not wear the little black dress that had somehow made its way into your suitcase. You chose the light green summer dress that made your ass look great instead. 

And if you spent more time on your make up and hair?

Well you were going out to a four star restaurant. That’s why you did it.

And you really didn’t do it for the look in Javier’s eyes as you opened the door, ready to join him for dinner. 

You sat outside in the lush parklike garden of the hotel, enjoying the last hues of the sun warming your skin. All the way from your hotel room, throughout the lobby and into the restaurant you could feel Javier’s warmth next to you. 

You didn’t know his hand had been hovering behind you all the way, 

Now you were sitting across from each other, both trying desperately not to ogle each other while waiting for the drinks you had ordered and reading through the menu. 

You had ordered a glass of white wine and Javier a glass of whiskey. 

„The menu sounds good,“ he said finally and you looked up at him, his eyes still reading the menu. 

„Yeah? I don’t think I ever had any of this except the salad,“ you said, pursing your lips. 

„Really?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„Even though I travel a lot for work I keep eating what I know like a true American tourist,“ you cringed and he chuckled. 

„I could order for you? I know my way around the local cuisine. Or at least I did,“ he offered and you set the menu down with a smile. 

„I would love that,“ you said, leaning back in your chair. He gave you a small smile before he continued to read through the menu. 

„Any allergies?“ he asked. 

„None that I know of,“ you said and he nodded. 

You used the time the waiter took to get your drinks to look around the beautiful property, your eyes seemingly always landing back on Javier as he still read through the menu. 

He had changed into a simple white polo shirt and some black jeans. You knew he must have showered, his aftershave filling the whole elevator cabin, making you positively dizzy. He smelled like he looked, sexy and a little dangerous. 

„You sure?“ He asked once the waiter brought your drinks and you just nodded, listening to him as he ordered for the both of you. 

Waiting until the waiter had everything written down and taken the menu’s back with him you reached for your glass of wine, bringing it up to smell it, closing your eyes. 

You may not know your way around food, but wine? Yeah. You knew enough. 

„Can’t believe what this place turned into,“ Javier said after a while and you looked at him as he looked around. 

„In my research I learned that the old building had so much asbestos in the basement, that the renovation would have cost more than just to tore it down. That’s probably why the hotel chain got the property pretty cheap. And the location is really great. I walked toward the presidential palace earlier this week, it was so close,“ you smiled, finally taking the first sip of your wine. 

„I had a lot of meetings in there,“ he sighed and you tilted your head in interest. 

„What if I said we’re going in there next week?“ You pursed your lips and he raised both eyebrows.

„Really?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„I haven’t told you yet but I do have some meet ups arranged throughout our time with people you have worked together. And from what I gathered from talking to them before hand you were all friendly with each other,“ you explained and he narrowed his eyes. 

„I didn’t make any friends here,“ he said slowly. 

„Now I know that that isn’t true. Steve Murphy and you seemed like friends,“ you said and he rolled his eyes, picking up his drink.

„He’s a fucking pain in my ass, that’s what he is,“ he snorted before he drank from his glass. 

You chuckled. 

„I bet the two of you were nothing but trouble working together. From what I gathered from our phone calls….“ 

„Honestly, and don’t tell him that. He was the best partner I could wish for out here. We went through a lot of shit out here. But he always had my back, even when I fucked up. And I really fucked up,“ he sighed.

„What did you do?“ You whispered and he looked at you, setting his glass down. 

„I’m afraid, that’s classified,“ he winked and you laughed. 

„Of course it is. I hope I can get some insider scoop out of your on our little journey through the drug history of this country,“ you said and he hummed, lips twitching into a grin. 

„Guess you have to find a way to get your inside scoop out of me,“ he winked. 

„Oh I have my ways, Agent Peña, don’t you worry,“ you winked back before you both laughed. 

„We’re gonna start with you showing me your favourite places, or what’s left of them,“ you explained after you had the best empanadas you ever tasted as a first course. Javier, or Javi as he told you repeatedly to call him, told you a little about the work he was doing now, working as a consultant for the DEA in San Antonio.

He also told you he kind of hated his job, but had been doing it all his life and didn’t really know what else he could be doing instead. 

„I’ve been working on movies all my life really,“ you said with a shrug after he asked how you got into your job. 

„Really?“ He asked with a grin, you nodded. 

„First movie I made was to blackmail my sister after I found her kissing Jimmy Miller in our garden when our mom was getting groceries,“ you said proudly and Javier laughed with a shake of his head. 

„Remind me to never get on your bad side,“ he chuckled.

„It was her fault really, she broke my favourite toy,“ you chuckled too. 

„God, sometimes I’m really glad I don’t have any terrorising little siblings,“ he sighs, still smiling. 

„None?“ You asked, and he shook his head. 

„I was a miracle baby more or less. Mama tried for a while to get pregnant and once the doctors said it was better to stop, boom, I happened. But she was already in her mid thirties which back then was… ancient to become a mother so both her and papa decided I was enough,“ he explained. 

„Well, you haven’t missed anything without siblings. They’re kind of annoying, honestly,“ you say. 

„You and your sister not on the best terms?“ He asked and you sighed. 

„I wouldn’t say we’re on bad terms but… she’s the poster child. She went to college, married her high school love and had a baby. And because of all of that she sometimes does this thing where she tries to  tell me how my life should be going. Because that’s what’s expected, right? You get married, you have the child, or children, and you life happily ever after while your husband brings home the money so you can have your picture perfect life, right?“

„If that makes someone happy, sure,“ Javi shrugged. 

„Exactly. If that makes someone happy, they should do it. But I am not like that. I love my job. And if I end up falling in love and having kids, that man would have to deal with that. Cause I can’t see myself quitting my job go become a housewife,“ 

„I think I could become a stay at home man,“ Javi mused and you were so stunned after your little rant you could do nothing but laugh, enjoying the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. 

„What? Don’t I seem like the type to stay at home, take care of the house, maybe the kids? All of that of course only after I trick someone into marrying me,“ he joked and you smiled softly. 

„I think you’d make a great stay at home husband for a very lucky lady some day. Or man. Whatever you’re into,“ you added quickly and he laughed. 

„Woman. Just women,“ he clarified quickly and you raised one eyebrow. 

„Really?“ You asked and his eyes narrowed. 

„What’s that tone supposed to mean?“ He wanted to know and you just hummed. 

„Nothing… Just…. Surprising. I would have bet you’re into men too,“ you shrugged, and he pursed his lips, bringing one of his hands up, his fingers rubbing over his perfectly groomed moustache. 

„Are you?“ He asked.

„Into men? Oh yeah,“ you winked and he huffed a laugh before he shook his head. 

„Into women,“ he clarified. 

„I think so. Like, I’ve never been with one, but if I end up meeting a woman and fall in love with her? Who am I to run away from that?“ You asked and he hummed. 

The waiter came and took your empty dishes, informing you that the main course would be served in a couple of minutes. 

„Do you…. Do you have someone at home waiting for you?“ Javier asked and you couldn’t help but smile. 

„I do,“ you said seriously and you might have imagined it, but Javier’s face fell for a moment. 

„His name is King George and he’s currently staying with my best friend,“ you said, his face changing into confusion. 

„He’s my cat,“ you clarified and Javier released a breath he was holding in a chuckle. 

„So no. No one waiting for me at home Javi,“ you smiled, „What about you?“

„No,“ he shook his head, „I think I have some issues letting people in,“ he confessed, eyes widening as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

„But that’s not something I should talk about with anyone else than my therapist or my fictional future wife with,“ he added and you smiled softly. 

„It’s okay. I have the same problem. When you’ve been on your own for so long, it’s hard to do this step of letting someone in. Not just in your head and heart. But in all your routines, your house, your life, your  family. It’s….. The person has to be worth it,“ you said and he nodded. 

„Yeah, It’s…. It’s sometimes easier being alone than opening up to someone only to get hurt in the long run, a sentence no one at home would believe I just said,“ he chuckled to himself, picking up his drink. 

„Well I get what you mean. I rather be happy alone, than miserable in a relationship. Though I have to admit there are some things I miss about it,“ you hummed, resting your arm on the table.

„Like what?“ Javi asks, interested.

You hummed. 

„I miss cooking for someone. Which sounds dumb, but cooking for yourself feels like a chore. If I get to do it for someone else? Well that’s something else entirely,“ you said and Javier smiled a little. 

„Yeah. I hate eating fucking microwave dinners on the couch by myself,“ he said and you chuckled. 

„Exactly. Like…. I am good most times, I am happy with how my life is. I just ask myself sometimes if there’s more? Like am I going to stay alone until the day I die or is someone out there who can handle my crazy ass?“ You asked and he hummed. 

„You don’t seem so crazy to me,“ he said with a small grin and you raised one of your eyebrows, challenging. 

„You’ve meet me what? Six hours ago? Give it time,“ you nodded with confidence. 

„I’ve known you for a couple of weeks and from what I know? I think you’re an intelligent woman that loves her job and is good at it. You’re funny and between us, you’re fucking sexy as hell,“ he said like it was the most obvious think while your eyes widened, warmth spreading over your cheeks. 

You were trying to come up with a response to his words when the waiter approached, serving the main courses. Javier winked at you and you suddenly felt so hot, you were sure he could see it. 

You took a deep breath, reaching for your glass of water to take some sips. 

„This looks good,“ you finally said, picking up your fork. 

„Yeah,“ Javi said, eyes still on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. 

„Shall we eat?“ You asked and he nodded before he picked up his fork too. 

You continued to talk all throughout your dinner, though you made an effort to talk more about the trip and less about your personal lives. You were not sure why, but you felt way to comfortable with Javi and opening up to him about your life. 

Not that this was bad, you just didn’t want to dump everything on him. This was a job and once this was finished you would most likely never see him again. You would move on to other projects while he moved on doing god knows what. 

Sighing you picked up you new drink, looking up into the by now dark night sky, Javier having left to look for the restroom some time ago. 

Why were you freaking out right now?

This was a dinner. Technically a dinner with a client. 

A very attractive client who kept looking at you with his big brown eyes that seemed to hold so much longing and hurt in them that you felt like you wanted to hug him and never let go of him. 

There was so much more to Javier Peña that you thought in the beginning. From interviewing people in preparation for the documentary the people seem to respect him for the work he had done and was still doing, but were judging him harshly for everything else he did. Be it how he got the work done or how he spent his private life. 

More than once you had heard the word manwhore when talking about him and frankly?

If you would look like him, you would be one too. 

„Penny for your thoughts,“ you jumped when you heard his voice behind you, a plate of what looked like cake in his hand that he set down in front of you. 

„What’s that?“ You chose to ignore his questions as he sat down across from you. 

„This is Postre de natas. It’s a kind of milk pudding and it’s maybe my most favourite dessert on this planet,“ he said and you nodded.

„Where is yours then?“ You picked up your spoon.

„It was the last one, you should have it," he said with a warm smile and you found yourself smiling back. 

„That’s… That’s very sweet Javi," you said softly before you brought the spoon to your lips, eyes widened when the sweetness exploded in your mouth. 

„Oh this is fucking delicious,“ you hummed happily, loving the was Javi’s eyes lit up as he smiled at you. You ate almost half of it, before you sat your spoon down and pushed the plate towards him. 

„You take the rest, or I will have a sugar shock that won’t let me sleep,“ you joked and he laughed quietly before he started to eat, a long moan escaping his lips as he tasted the first spoon. 

He closed his eyes in complete bliss while you schooled your whole demeanour to not react to how watching Javier eat his dessert felt like watching porn. 

He licked his lips, humming to himself, sighing at every taste. 

„I feel like I should give you two some privacy,“ you finally found the words to tease him and his eyes dropped open, looking at you before you saw his cheeks flush a little. 

„I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. This might be the closest I got to having sex in a long time,“ he said, chuckling and your eyes widened, before you laughed. 

„Guess I gotta find myself a desert that’s that good, huh?“ You joked and he licked his lips, having finished the dessert. 

„Or someone to have sex with,“ he shrugged and you rolled your eyes. 

"Like it’s that easy,“ you said and he pursed his lips, eyes playful.

„The guy at the bar has been eyefucking you all night,“ he said and you were about to turn your head to look when he stopped you. 

„Don’t look. He’s not worth your time,“ he said and you titled your head. 

„And how do you know that?“ You asked and he smirked. 

„Saw his dick in the bathroom, he was next to me. Trust me, he is not worth it,“ he said seriously and your lips parted in shock before you giggled. 

„Oh my god,“ you shook your head and he grinned. 

„This is the weirdest business dinner I’ve ever had in my life,“ you still laughed, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. 

„Well this has been the best dinner I’ve had since I can remember, so thank you for that,“ he said and your smile at him softened. 

The waiter approached, asking if you wanted to order anything else but you shook your head, much like Javi before you asked him to bill the dinner to your room. 

Both Javi and you emptied your drinks before you both decided it was time to head back to your rooms. 

You walked through the restaurant back towards the elevators, walking close by each other. You couldn’t help sucking your lip in to hide your laughter when you past the man Javi had talked about sitting at the bar, nodding at you with a grin. 

Even if he was attractive, all you could think about was what Javier had said about him and you had a hard time not bursting out in giggles all the way to the elevators. When you risked a glance at Javier he was grinning too and you both chuckled as the elevator door opened. He waited for you to step in, following you, standing beside you as you pressed the button to the floor. 

You didn’t know if it was seeing the guy, being so close to Javi or the three drinks you had but you found yourself asking „So if he’s not worth my time, how do you compare to him?“ 

You saw him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, before his tongue dared out to lick over his bottom lip. 

He was about to answer when the elevator doors opened, having reached your floor. This time he put his hand on your lower back as he led you out of the elevator, slowly walking up the hallway towards your room. 

You were already fiddling with your key when he stopped in front of your hotel room door. 

„I’e be definitely worth your time,“ he finally said and you looked up at him. 

„Yeah?“ You asked, voice just above a whisper. He nodded. 

„And not just because my dick is bigger than his,“ he said, before he slowly leaned down to kiss your forehead. Your eyes widened, processing his words as he reached for your room key, unlocking the door for you. 

„I’ll see you at breakfast?“ He asked and you dumbly nodded, before you slowly walked into your room. 

„Sweet dreams," he winked as he pulled your door closed and only then did you realise that you had held your breath. 

„I am in so much fucking trouble,“ you mumbled to yourself with disbelieving laugh, looking forward to what the next few weeks would bring. 

next chapter

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